Page images
PDF
EPUB

Valour's a mouse-trap, wit a gin,
Which women oft are taken in.

Then, Hudibras, why should'st thou fear
To be, that art a conqueror?
Fortune the audacious doth juvare,1
But lets the timidous miscarry.
Then while the honour thou hast got
Is spick and span new, piping hot,
Strike her up bravely, thou hadst best,
And trust thy fortune with the rest.

Such thoughts as these the knight did keep,
More than his bangs or fleas, from sleep.
And as an owl, that in a barn

Sees a mouse creeping in the corn,
Sits still and shuts his round blue eyes,

As if he slept, until he spies
The little beast within his reach,
Then starts, and seizes on the wretch;
So from his couch the knight did start
To seize upon the widow's heart;
Crying with hasty tone, and hoarse,
"Ralpho, dispatch; to horse, to horse!"
And 'twas but time; for now the rout,
We left engaged to seek him out,
By speedy marches, were advanced
Up to the fort, where he ensconced;
And all the avenues had possest

About the place, from east to west.

The enemy halted, called a council, and agreed to proceed by storm. They were drawn up to attack the fort, when Hudibras, ignorant of danger, sallied out to seek the Lady. Unexpected sight of the enemy startled the Knight; his bruises seemed to smart afresh; but he recovered courage and resolved to win new glory. It is the same crowd that he and Ralpho have already routed once.

"Then let us boldly charge them home, And make no doubt to overcome."

This said, his courage to inflame,

He called upon his mistress' name.

His pistol next he cocked anew,

And out his nut-brown whinyard drew; And, placing Ralpho in the front,

Reserved himself to bear the brunt.

The enemy advanced and had almost come to handy blows, when Orsin first let fly a stone at Ralpho, to whose aid came Hudibras. Again there is the mock heroic strain of war. A stone from Colon was so well levelled at Hudibras that it

thumped upon his manly paunch, with such a force, as almost beat him off his horse. He dropped his sword and the reins, held on by the horse's mane, and as he clutched he drew with one claw the trigger of his pistol.

The gun went off; and as it was
Still fatal to stout Hudibras,
In all his feats of arms, when least
He dreamt of it, to prosper best,

1 An allusion to Terence's "Phormio," i. 4, "Fortes Fortuna adjuvat." (Fortune favours the bold.)

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

"The knotted blood within my hose,
That from my wounded body flows,
With mortal crisis doth portend
My days to appropinque an end.
I am for action now unfit,
Either of fortitude or wit:
Fortune, my foe, begins to frown,
Resolved to pull my stomach down.
I am not apt, upon a wound,
Or trivial basting, to despond:
Yet I'd be loth my days to curtail :
For if I thought my wounds not mortal,
Or that we'd time enough as yet,
To make an honourable retreat,
"Twere the best course: but if they find
We fly, and leave our arms behind
For them to seize on, the dishonour,
And danger too, is such, I'll sooner
Stand to it boldly, and take quarter,
To let them see I am no starter.
In all the trade of war, no feat
Is nobler than a brave retreat:
For those that run away, and fly,
Take place at least of the enemy."

Ralpho dismounted to restore to Hudibras his arms; then

As a man might say, with might and main
He hasted to get up again.

Ralpho still struggled to remount, when Orsin, who had dressed with his Promethean powder a wound on Talgol's shoulder,

And now was searching for the shot
That laid Magnano on the spot,
Beheld the sturdy squire aforesaid

Preparing to climb up his horse-side.

Leaving his cure, Orsin rushed back to the fray and tumbled Ralpho from his beast again as soon as he was up. The Knight finding by eyes and nose that it was not blood "that from his wounded body

[graphic]
[blocks in formation]

"It was for you I got these harms,
Adventuring to fetch off your arms.
The blows and drubs I have received
Have bruised my body, and bereaved
My limbs of strength. Unless you stoop,
And reach your hand to pull me up,
I shall lie here and be a prey
To those who now are run away."

"That thou shalt not," quoth Hudibras; "We read, the ancients held it was

More honourable far, servare

Civem, than slay an adversary:
The one we oft to-day have done,

The other shall dispatch anon:
And though thou'rt of a different Church
I will not leave thee in the lurch."
This said, he jogged his good steed nigher,
And steered him gently toward the squire;
Then bowing down his body, stretched
His hand out, and at Ralpho reached;
When Trulla, whom he did not mind,
Charged him like lightning behind.
She had been long in search about
Magnano's wound, to find it out;
But could find none, nor where the shot,
That had so startled him, was got.
But having found the worst was past,
She fell to her own work at last,

The pillage of the prisoners,

Which in all feats of arms was hers;

Which fired it so, he raised his arm
Above his head, and rained a storm
Of blows so terrible and thick,
As if he meant to hash her quick.

But she upon her truncheon took them,
And by oblique diversion broke them,
Waiting an opportunity

To pay all back with usury;
Which long she failed not of; for now
The knight with one dead-doing blow
Resolving to decide the fight,

And she, with quick and cunning sleight,
Avoiding it, the force and weight
He charged upon it was so great,
As almost swayed him to the ground.
No sooner she the advantage found,
But in she flew; and seconding

With home-made thrust the heavy swing,
She laid him flat upon his side;
And mounting on his trunk a-stride,

Quoth she, "I told thee what would come

Of all thy vapouring, base scum.
Say, will the law of arms allow

I may have grace and quarter now?"

Hudibras admitted that Trulla and the stars had cast him down. His laurels were transplanted to her brow.

"My loss of honour's great enough,
Thou need'st not brand it with a scoff;
Sarcasms may eclipse thine own,
But cannot blur my lost renown.
I am not now in Fortune's power;
He that is down can fall no lower.
The ancient heroes were illustrious
For being benign, and not blusterous,
Against a vanquished foe: their swords
Were sharp and trenchant, not their words;
And did in fight but cut work out

To employ their courtesies about."

Trulla took the Knight's arms and clothes and liberty, but gave him his life. Hudibras pleaded that he had permitted her vanquished companions to run away.

Quoth Trulla, "Whether thou or they
Let one another run away,
Concerns not me; but was't not thou
That gave Crowdero quarter too?
Crowdero whom in irons bound,
Thou basely threw'st into Lob's pound,
Where still he lies, and with regret
His generous bowels rage and fret;
But now thy carcass shall redeem,
And serve to be exchanged for him."

This said, the knight did straight submit,
And laid his weapons at her feet.
Next he disrobed his gaberdine,
And with it did himself resign.
She took it, and forthwith divesting
The mantle that she wore, said jesting,
"Take that, and wear it for my sake;'
Then threw it o'er his sturdy back,
And as the French, we conquered once,
Now give us laws for pantaloons,

The length of breeches, and the gathers,
Port-cannons, perriwigs, and feathers;
Just so the proud insulting lass
Arrayed and dighted Hudibras.

Meanwhile the other champions, yerst

In hurry of the fight dispersed,
Arrived, when Trulla won the day,
To share in the honour and the prey,
And out of Hudibras his hide
With vengeance to be satisfied;
Which now they were about to pour
Upon him in a wooden shower;
But Trulla thrust herself between,
And striding o'er his back again,
She brandished o'er her head his sword,
And vowed they should not break her word:
She had given him quarter, and her blood
Or theirs should make that quarter good;
For she was bound by law of arms
To see him safe from further harms.
In dungeon deep Crowdero, cast
By Hudibras, as yet lay fast;
Where, to the hard and ruthless stones,
His great heart made perpetual moans:
Him she resolved that Hudibras
Should ransom, and supply his place.

This stopped their fury, and the basting
Which toward Hudibras was hasting.
They thought it was but just and right,
That what she had achieved in fight,
She should dispose of how she pleased.
Crowdero ought to be released;

Nor could that any way be done

So well as this she pitched upon :

For who a better could imagine?

This therefore they resolved to engage in.

So Hudibras and Ralpho were placed on their horses, with their faces to their horse's tails; Orsin led Hudibras's beast, and Talgol Ralpho's; Magnano, Cerdon, Colon, followed as a guard,

All ushering Trulla in the rear With th' arms of either prisoner.

So they advanced in a swift march of triumph to the stocks.

Magnan led up in this adventure,

And made way for the rest to enter;
For he was skilful in black art.
No less than he that built the fort;
And with an iron mace laid flat

A breach, which straight all entered at,
And in the wooden dungeon found
Crowdero laid upon the ground.
Him they release from durance base,
Restored to his fiddle and his case,
And liberty, his thirsty rage
With luscious vengeance to assuage:
For he no sooner was at large,
But Trulla straight brought on the charge,
And in the self-same limbo put
The knight and squire where he was shut;
Where leaving them in Hockley i' the Hole,
Their bangs and durance to condole,

Confined and conjured into narrow

Enchanted mansion to know sorrow,

In the same order and array

Which they advanced, they marched away.

But Hudibras, who scorned to stoop

To fortune, or be said to droop,

Cheered up himself with ends of verse,

And sayings of philosophers.

Hudibras and Ralpho side by side in the stocks, as Presbyterian and Independent, then hold high discourse; and when the book ends-the end of the section of the poem first published in 1663-thus they are left disputing, about "gifts" and "lights" and the vanities of human learning-vanities especially decried by Ralph the Independent. "What," he asks, "is human learning but a cobweb of the brain?

"A cheat that scholars put upon
Other men's reason and their own;
A fort of error, to ensconce
Absurdity and ignorance,
That renders all the avenues
To truth impervious and abstruse,
By making plain things, in debate,
By art, perplexed, and intricate:
For nothing goes for sense or light
That will not with old rules jump right:
As if rules were not in the schools
Derived from truth, but truth from rules.
This pagan, heathenish invention
Is good for nothing but contention.
For as, in sword-and-buckler fight,
All blows do on the target light;
So when men argue, the great'st part
O' the contests falls on terms of art,
Until the fustian stuff be spent,

And then they fall to the argument."

Quoth Hudibras, "Friend Ralph, thou hast
Out-run the constable at last :

For thou art fallen on a new
Dispute, as senseless as untrue,
But to the former opposite
And contrary as black to white;
Mere disparata; that concerning
Presbytery; this, human learning;
Two things so averse, they never yet
But in thy rambling fancy met.
But I shall take a fit occasion

To evince thee by ratiocination,
Some other time, in place more proper

Than this we're in; therefore let's stop here,
And rest our wearied bones awhile,
Already tired with other toil."

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][graphic][merged small][merged small]

All which appearing, on she went,

To find the knight in limbo pent.

And 'twas not long before she found

Him, and the stout squire, in the pound;

Both coupled in enchanted tether,

By further leg behind together:

For as he sat upon his rump,

His head like one in doleful dump,
Between his knees, his hands applied
Unto his ears on either side;
And by him, in another hole,
Afflicted Ralpho, cheek by joul;
She came upon him in his wooden
Magician's circle on the sudden,
As spirits do to a conjurer,

When in their dreadful shapes they appear.
No sooner did the knight perceive her,
But straight he fell into a fever,
Inflamed all over with disgrace,

To be seen by her in such a place;
Which made him hang his head, and scowl,

And wink, and goggle like an owl. He felt his brains begin to swim, When thus the dame accosted him:

"This place," quoth she, "they say's enchanted,
And with delinquent spirits haunted,
That here are tied in chains, and scourged,
Until their guilty crimes be purged.
Look, there are two of them appear,
Like persons I have seen somewhere.
Some have mistaken blocks and posts
For spectres, apparitions, ghosts,

With saucer eyes, and horns; and some
Have heard the Devil beat a drum:
But if our eyes are not false glasses,
That give a wrong account of faces,
That beard and I should be acquainted,
Before 'twas conjured or enchanted;
For though it be disfigured somewhat,
As if it had lately been in combat,
It did belong to a worthy knight,
Howe'er this goblin has come by't."

When Hudibras the Lady heard
Discoursing thus upon his beard,
And speak with such respect and honour,
Both of the beard and the beard's owner,
He thought it best to set as good
A face upon it as he could,

And thus he spoke: "Lady, your bright
And radiant eyes are in the right:

The beard's the identic beard you knew,

The same numerically true:

Nor is it worn by fiend or elf,

But its proprietor himself."

"O heavens!" quoth she, " can that be true?

I do begin to fear 'tis you:

Not by your individual whiskers,

But by your dialect and discourse,
That never spoke to man or beast
In notions vulgarly expressed.
But what malignant star, alas!

Has brought you both to this sad pass?"
Quoth he, "The fortune of the war,
Which I am less afflicted for,

Than to be seen with beard and face,
By you in such a homely case."

Then follows an ingenious dialogue between Hudibras and the Lady. Hudibras argues that sense is deceitful, and that bangs are gross phenomena which do not bruise the immortal intellect. The Lady suggests that honour is hurt. Hudibras accounts that honour to be very squeamish that takes a basting for a blemish.

"For what's more honourable than scars

Or skin to tatters rent in wars?
Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow;
Some kicked until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather;
And yet have met, after long running,

With some whom they have taught that cunning."

The old Roman gave freedom, our princes give worship, with a blow. Though thus in base durance, Hudibras holds that as beards grow more reverend

[blocks in formation]

"Love-passions are like parables,

By which men still mean something else.
Though love be all the world's pretence,
Money's the mythologic sense;

The real substance of the shadow,

Which all address and courtship's made to."
Thought he, "I understand your play,
And how to quit you your own way;
He that will win his dame, must do
As love does when he bends his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home."
"I grant," quoth he, "wealth is a great
Provocative to amorous heat.

It is all philters, and high diet,
That makes love rampant, and to fly out:
'Tis beauty always in the flower,
That buds and blossoms at fourscore:
"Tis that by which the sun and moon

At their own weapons are out-done:

That makes knights-errant fall in trances,

And lay about them in romances:

'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all

That men divine and sacred call:

For what is worth in any thing,

But so much money as 'twill bring?"

Now Hudibras tells the Lady that he is bewitched only by her fortune. Quoth she, "I like this plainness better than false mock passion, speech, or letter. The only way with me to break your mind is to

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »