And while the dogs ran underneath,
Escap'd, by counterfeiting death, 1120
Not out of cunning, but a train
Of atoms justling in his brain,[1]
As learn'd philosophers give out;
So Sidrophello cast about.
And fell to 's wonted trade again, 1125
To feign himself in earnest slain:[2]
First stretch'd out one leg, then another,
And, seeming in his breast to smother
A broken sigh, quoth he, Where am I?
Alive, or dead? or which way came I 1130
Thro' so immense a space so soon?
But now I thought myself i' th' moon;
And that a monster with huge whiskers,
More formidable than a Switzer's,
My body thro' and thro' had drill'd, 1135
And Whachum by my side had kill'd,
Had cross-examin'd both our hose,[3]
And plunder'd all we had to lose;
Look, there he is, I see him now,
And feel the place I am run thro': 1140
And there lies Whachum by my side,
Stone dead and in his own blood dy'd,
Oh! oh! With that he fetch'd a groan,
And fell again into a swoon;
Shut both his eyes, and stopt his breath, 1145
And to the life out-acted death,
That Hudibras, to all appearing,
Believ'd him to be dead as herring.[4]
- ↑ The ancient atomic philosophers, Democritus, Epicurus, &c., held that sense in brutes, and cogitation and volition in men, were produced by the impression of corporeal atoms on the brain. But the author perhaps meant to ridicule Sir Kenelm Digby, who relates this story of the fox, and maintains that there was no thought or cunning in it, but merely a particular disposition of atoms.
- ↑ See the scene of Falstaff's counterfeited death, Shakspeare, Henry IV., Part I. Act V.
- ↑ Trunk-hose with pockets to them.
- ↑ Shakspeare refers to this proverb in Merry Wives, II. 3. See also Bohn's Handbook of Proverbs, p. 187.
