Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

"For what bigot durst ever draw,
By inward light, a deed in law?
Or could hold forth, by revelation,
An answer to a declaration?

For those that meddle with their tools,
Will cut their fingers, if they 're fools:
And if you follow their advice,
In bills, and answers, and replies,
They'll write a love-letter in chancery,
Shall bring her upon oath to answer ye,
And soon reduce her to b' your wife,
Or make her weary of her life."

The knight, who us'd with tricks and shifts To edify by Ralpho's gifts,

But in appearance cry'd him down,
To make them better seem his own,
(All plagiaries' constant course
Of sinking, when they take a purse)
Resolv'd to follow his advice,
But kept it from him by disguise;
And, after stubborn contradiction,
To counterfeit his own conviction,
And, by transition, fall upon
The resolution, as his own,

Quoth he, "This gambol thou advisest
Is, of all others, the unwisest ;
For, if I think by law to gain her,
There's nothing sillier nor vainer.
'Tis but to hazard my pretence,
Where nothing 's certain but th' expense;
To act against myself, and traverse
My suit and title to her favours;
And if she should, which Heaven forbid,
O'erthrow me, as the fiddler did,
What after-course have I to take,
'Gainst losing all I have at stake?
He that with injury is griev'd,
And goes to law to be reliev'd,
Is sillier than a sottish chouse,

Who, when a thief has robb'd his house,
Applies himself to cunning-men,
To help him to his goods again;
When all he can expect to gain
Is but to squander more in vain:
And yet I have no other way,
But is as difficult, to play:
For to reduce her by main force

Is now in vain; by fair means, worse;
But worst of all to give her over,
Till she 's as desperate to recover:
For bad games are thrown up too soon,
Until they 're never to be won.
But, since I have no other course,
But is as bad t' attempt, or worse,
He that complies against his will,
Is of his own opinion still,

Which he may adhere to, yet disown,
For reasons to himself best known;
But 'tis not to b' avoided now,
For Sidrophel resolves to sue;
Whom I must answer, or begin,
Inevitably, first with him;
For I've receiv'd advertisement,
By times enough, of his intent;
And, knowing he that first complains
Th' advantage of the business gains;
For courts of justice understand
The plaintiff to be eldest hand;
Who what he pleases may aver,
The other nothing till he swear;

Is freely admitted to all grace,
And lawful favour, by his place;
And, for his bringing custom in,
Has all advantages to win:
I, who resolve to oversee

No lucky opportunity,

Will go to counsel, to advise
Which way t' encounter or surprise;
And, after long consideration,
Have found out one to fit th' occasion,
Most apt for what I have to do,
As counsellor, and justice too.”
And truly so, no doubt, he was,
A lawyer fit for such a case.

An old dull sot, who told the clock,
For many years, at Bridewell Dock,
At Westminster, and Hick's Hall,
And hiccius doctius play'd in all;
Where, in all governments and times,
He 'ad been both friend and foe to crimes,
And us'd two equal ways of gaining,
By hindering justice, or maintaining
To many a whore gave privilege,
And whipp'd, for want of quarterage;
Cart-loads of bawds to prison sent,
For being behind a fortnight's rent;
And many a trusty pimp and crony
To Puddle Dock, for want of money;
Engag'd the constable to seize

All those that would not break the peace;
Nor give him back his own foul words,
Though sometimes commoners or lords,
And kept them prisoners of course,
For being sober at ill hours;
That in the morning he might free,
Or bind them over, for his fee:
Made monsters fine, and puppet-plays,
For leave to practise in their ways;
Farm'd out all cheats, and went a share
With th' headborough and scavenger;
And made the dirt i' th' streets compound
For taking up the public ground;
The kennel, and the king's highway,
For being unmolested, pay;

Let out the stocks, and whipping-post,
And cage, to those that gave him most;
Impos'd a tax on bakers' ears,
And, for false weights, on chandeleers;
Made victuallers and vintners fine
For arbitrary ale and wine;

But was a kind and constant friend

To all that regularly' offend;

As residentiary bawds,

And brokers that receive stol'n goods;
That cheat in lawful mysteries,
And pay church-duties and his fees;
But was implacable and awkward
To all that interlop'd and hawker'd.

To this brave man the knight repairs
For counsel in his law affairs;
And found him mounted, in his pew,
With books and money plac'd for shew,
Like nest-eggs, to make clients lay,
And for his false opinion pay:
To whom the knight, with comely grace,
Put off his hat, to put his case;
Which he as proudly entertain'd
As th' other courteously strain'd;
And, to assure him 'twas not that
He look'd for, bid him put on 's hat.

Quoth he, "There is one Sidrophel Whom I have cudgel'd”—“ Very well." "And now he brags to have beaten me""Better, and better still," quoth he. "And vows to stick me to a wall, Where'er he meets me"-" Best of all." "Tis true the knave has taken 's oath,

That I robb'd him"-" Well done, in troth." "When he 'as confess'd he stole my cloak, And pick'd my fob, and what he took;

Which was the cause that made me bang him, And take my goods again"-" Marry, hang him." "Now, whether I should beforehand, Swear he robb'd me?" I understand." "Or bring my action of conversion

And trover for my goods ?"-"Ah, whoreson." "Or, if 'tis better to indict,

And bring him to his trial?"-" Right." "Prevent what he designs to do,

And swear for th' state against him?"-" True." "Or whether he that is defendant,

In this case has the better end on 't;
Who, putting in a new cross-bill,

May traverse the action?"-"Better still."
"Then there's a lady, too"-" Aye, marry."
"That's easily prov'd accessary;
A widow, who, by solemn vows
Contracted to me, for my spouse,
Combin'd with him to break her word,
And has abetted all"-" Good Lord!"
"Suborn'd th' aforesaid Sidrophel
To tamper with the Devil of Hell;
Who put m' into a horrid fear,

Fear of my life"-"Make that appear."
Made an assault with fiends and men

Upon my body"-" Good again.”

[ocr errors]

And kept me in a deadly fright,

And false imprisonment, all night.
Meanwhile they robb'd me, and my horse,
And stole my saddle"-" Worse and worse."
"And made me mount upon the bare ridge,
Tavoid a wretcheder miscarriage."

"Sir." quoth the lawyer, “not to flatter ye,
You have as good and fair a battery
As heart can wish, and need not shame
The proudest man alive to claim:
For if they 've us'd you as you say,
Marry, quoth I, God give you joy;
I would it were my case, I'd give
More than I'll say, or you 'll believe:
I would so trounce her, and her purse,
I'd make her kneel for better or worse;
For matrimony and hanging, here,
Both go by destiny so clear,
That you as sure may pick and choose,
As cross I win, and pile you lose:
And, if I durst, I would advance
As much in ready maintenance,
As upon any case I've known;
But we that practise dare not own :
The law severely contrabands
Our taking business off men's hands;
Ts common barratry, that bears
Punt-blank an action 'gainst our ears,
And crops them till there is not leather,
To stick a pin in, left of either;
For which some do the summer-sault,
And o'er the bar, like tumblers, vault:
But you may swear, at any rate,
Things not in nature, for the state ;

For in all courts of justice here,

A witness is not said to swear,

But make oath; that is, in plain terms,
To forge whatever he affirms."

"I thank you," quoth the knight, "for that, Because 'tis to my purpose pat."

[ocr errors]

For Justice, though she 's painted blind,

Is to the weaker side inclin'd,

Like Charity; else right and wrong
Could never hold it out so long,
And, like blind Fortune, with a sleight
Convey men's interest and right
From Stiles's pocket into Nokes's,
As easily as hocus pocus;

Plays fast and loose, makes men obnoxious;
And clear again, like hiccius doctius.
Then, whether you would take her life,
Or but recover her for your wife,
Or be content with what she has,
And let all other matters pass,
The business to the law 's alone,
The proof is all it looks upon;
And you can want no witnesses,
To swear to any thing you please,
That hardly get their mere expenses
By th' labour of their consciences,
Or letting out, to hire, their ears
To affidavit customers,

At inconsiderable values,

To serve for jurymen, or tales,
Although retain'd in th' hardest matters
Of trustees and administrators."

"For that," quoth he, "let me alone; We've store of such, and all our own, Bred up and tutor❜d by our teachers,

The ablest of conscience-stretchers."

"That 's well," quoth he; "but I should guess, By weighing all advantages,

Your surest way is first to pitch

On Bongey for a water-witch;

And when ye 've bang'd the conjurer,

Ye 've time enough to deal with her.

In th' interim spare for no trepans

To draw her neck into the banns;

Ply her with love-letters and billets,

And bait them well, for quirks and quillets,
With trains t' inv. gle and surprise
Her heedless answers and replies;
And if she miss the mouse-trap lines,
They'll serve for other by-designs;
And make an artist understand
To copy out her seal, or hand;
Or find void places in the paper,
To steal in something to entrap her;
Till with her worldly goods, and body,
Spite of her heart, she has endow'd ye :

9 Bongey was a Franciscan, and lived towards the end of the thirteenth century; a doctor of divinity in Oxford, and a particular acquaintance of friar Bacon's. In that ignorant age every thing that seemed extraordinary was reputed magic, and so both Bacon and Bongey went under the imputation of studying the black art. Bongey also, publishing a treatise of natural magic, confirmed some well-meaning credulous people in this opinion; but it was altogether groundless, for Bongey was chosen provincial of his order, being a person of most excellent parts and piety.

Retain all sorts of witnesses,

That ply i' th' Temples, under trees,

Or walk the round, with knights o' th' posts,
About the cross'd-legg'd knights, their hosts;
Or wait for customers between
The pillar-rows in Lincoln's-inn;
Where vouches, forgers, common-bail,
And affidavit-men, ne'er fail

T' expose to sale all sorts of oaths,
According to their ears and clothes,
Their only necessary tools,

Besides the gospel, and their souls;

[ocr errors]

And, when ye 're furnish'd with all purveys,
I shall be ready at your service."

"I would not give," quoth Hudibras,
"A straw to understand a case,
Without the admirable skill
To wind and manage it at will;
To veer, and tack, and steer a cause,
Against the weather-gage of laws,
And ring the changes upon cases,
As plain as noses upon faces,
As you have well instructed me,

For which you 've earn'd (here 'tis) your fee.
I long to practise your advice,
And try the subtle artifice;
To bait a letter, as you bid."
As, not long after, thus he did;
For, having pump'd up all his wit,
And hum'd upon it, thus he writ.

AN HEROICAL EPISTLE

OF

HUDIBRAS TO HIS LADY.

I, who was once as great as Cæsar,
Am now reduc'd to Nebuchadnezzar;
And, from as fam'd a conqueror
As ever took degree in war,
Or did his exercise in battle,

By you turn'd out to grass with cattle:
For, since I am deny'd access
To all my earthly happiness,

Am fallen from the paradise

Of your good graces, and fair eyes;
Lost to the world and you, I'm sent
To everlasting banishment,

Where all the hopes I had to 've won

Your heart, being dash'd, will break my own.
Yet, if you were not so severe

To pass your doom before you hear,
You'd find, upon my just defence,

How much you 've wrong'd my innocence.
That once I made a vow to you,
Which yet is unperform'd, 'tis true;
But not because it is unpaid,
'Tis violated, though delay'd:
Or, if it were, it is no fault,

So heinous as you 'd have it thought;
To undergo the loss of ears,
Like vulgar hackney perjurers:
For there's a difference in the case,
Between the noble and the base;
Who always are observ'd to 've done 't
Upon as different an account;

The one for great and weighty cause,
To salve, in honour, ugly flaws;
For none are like to do it sooner,

Than those who 're nicest of their honour t
The other, for base gain and pay,
Forswear and perjure by the day,
And make th' exposing and retailing
Their souls and consciences a calling.
It is no scandal nor aspersion,
Upon a great and noble person,
To say he naturally abhorr'd

Th' old-fashion'd trick to keep his word,
Though 'tis perfidiousness and shame,
In meaner men, to do the same:
For to be able to forget,

Is found more useful to the great,
Than gout, or deafness, or bad eyes,
To make them pass for wondrous wise.
But though the law, on perjurers,
Inflicts the forfeiture of ears,
It is not just, that does exempt
The guilty, and punish th' innocent;
To make the ears repair the wrong
Committed by th' ungovern'd tongue;
And, when one member is forsworn,
Another to be cropt or torn.
And if you should, as you design,
By course of law, recover mine,
You 're like, if you consider right,
To gain but little honour by 't.
For he, that for his lady's sake
Lays down his life, or limbs, at stake,
Does not so much deserve her favour,
As he that pawns his soul to have her.
This ye 've acknowledg'd I have done,
Although you now disdain to own;
But sentence what you rather ought
Testeem good service than a fault.
Besides, oaths are not bound to bear
That literal sense the words infer;
But, by the practice of the age,
Are to be judg'd how far they engage;
And, where the sense by custom 's checkt,
Are found void and of none effect;
For no man takes or keeps a vow,
But just as he sees others do;
Nor are they oblig'd to be so brittle,
As not to yield and bow a little :
For as best-temper'd blades are found,
Before they break, to bend quite round;
So truest oaths are still most tough,
And, though they bow, are breaking proof.
Then wherefore should they not b' allow'd
In love a greater latitude?

For, as the law of arms approves

All ways to conquest, so should love's;

And not be ty'd to true or false,

But make that justest that prevails:
For how can that which is above

All empire, high and mighty Love,
Submit its great prerogative
To any other power alive?

Shall Love, that to no crown gives place,
Become the subject of a case?

The fundamental law of Nature
Be over-rul'd by those made after?
Commit the censure of its cause
To any but its own great laws?
Love, that's the world's preservative,
That keeps all souls of things alive;

Controuls the mighty power of Fate,
And gives mankind a longer date;
The life of Nature, that restores
As fast as Time and Death devours;
To whose free-gift the world does owe
Not only Earth, but Heaven too :

For love's the only trade that 's driven,
The interest of state in Heaven,
Which nothing but the soul of man
Is capable to entertain,

For what can Earth produce, but love,
To represent the joys above?

Or who, but lovers, can converse,
Like angels, by the eye-discourse?
Address and compliment by vision,
Make love and court by intuition?
And burn in amorous flames as fierce
As those celestial ministers?
Then how can any thing offend,
In order to so great an end?
Or Heaven itself a sin resent,
That for its own supply was meant?
That merits, in a kind mistake,
A pardon for th' offence's sake?
Or if it did not, but the cause
Were left to th' injury of laws,
What tyranny can disapprove
There should be equity in love?
For laws, that are inanimate,
And feel no sense of love or hate,
That have no passion of their own,
Nor pity to be wrought upon,
Are only proper to inflict
Revenge, on criminals, as strict:
Bat to have power to forgive,
empire and prerogative;
And tis in crowns a nobler gem
To grant a pardon than condemn.
Then, since so few do what they ought,
Tis great t' indulge a well-meant fault;
For why should he who made address
All humble ways, without success,
And met with nothing in return
But insolence, affronts, and scorn,
Not strive by wit to countermine,
And bravely carry his design?

He who was us'd so unlike a soldier,
Blown up with philtres of love-powder;
And, after letting blood, and purging,
Condemn'd to voluntary scourging;
Alarm'd with many a horrid fright,
And claw'd by goblins in the night;
Insulted on, revil'd, and jeer'd,
With rude invasion of his beard;

And, when your sex was foully scandal'd,
As foully by the rabble handled;
Attack'd by despicable foes,

And drubb'd with mean and vulgar blows;
And, after all, to be debarr'd

So much as standing on his guard;
When horses, being spurr'd and prick'd,
Have leave to kick for being kick❜d?

Or why should you, whose mother-wits
Are furnish'd with all perquisites,
That with your breeding teeth begin,
And nursing babies that lie in,
Ballow'd to put all tricks upon
Our cully sex, and we use none?
We, who have nothing but frail vows
Against your stratagems t' oppose,
VOL VIII.

Or oaths more feeble than your own,
By which we are no less put down?
You wound, like Parthians, while you fly,
And kill with a retreating eye;
Retire the more, the more we press,
To draw us into ambushes:

As pirates all false colours wear,
T' intrap th' unwary mariner;
So women, to surprise us, spread
The borrow'd flags of white and red;
Display them thicker on their cheeks,
Than their old grandmothers, the Picts;
And raise more devils with their looks,
Than conjurers' less subtle books:
Lay trains of amorous intrigues,
In towers, and curls, and periwigs,
With greater art and cunning rear'd,
Than Philip Nye's thanksgiving beard;
Prepost'rously t' entice and gain
Those to adore them they disdain;
And only draw them in to clog,
With idle names, a catalogue.

A lover is, the more he 's brave,
This mistress but the more a slave,
And whatsoever she commands,
Becomes a favour from her hands,
Which he 's oblig'd t' obey, and must,
Whether it be unjust or just.
Then, when he is compell'd by her
T' adventures he would else forbear,
Who, with his honour, can withstand,
Since force is greater than command ?
And when necessity 's obey'd,
Nothing can be unjust or bad:
And therefore when the mighty powers
Of Love, our great ally, and your's,
Join'd forces, not to be withstood
By frail enamour'd flesh and blood,
All I have done, unjust or ill,
Was in obedience to your will;
And all the blame, that can be due,
Falls to your cruelty and you.
Nor are those scandals I confest,
Against my will and interest,

More than is daily done, of course,

By all men, when they 're under force: Whence some, upon the rack, confess

What th' hangman and their prompters please; But are no sooner out of pain,

Than they deny it all again.

But when the Devil turns confessor,
Truth is a crime he takes no pleasure
To hear or pardon, like the founder
Of liars, whom they all claim under:
And therefore, when I told him none,
I think it was the wiser done.
Nor am I without precedent,
The first that on th' adventure went;
All mankind ever did of course,
And daily does, the same, or worse.
For what romance can show a lover,
That had a lady to recover,

And did not steer a nearer course,
To fall aboard in his amours?
And what at first was held a crime,
Has turn'd to honourable in time.

To what a height did infant Rome,
By ravishing of women, come?
When men upon their spouses seiz'd,
And freely marry'd where they pleas'd;

N

They ne'er forswore themselves, nor ly'd,
Nor, in the mind they were in, dy'd;
Nor took the pains t' address and sue,
Nor play'd the masquerade, to woo:
Disdain'd to stay for friends' consents,
Nor juggled about settlements;
Did need no licence, nor no priest,
Nor friends, nor kindred, to assist,
Nor lawyers, to join land and money
In th' holy state of matrimony,
Before they settled hands and hearts,
Till alimony or death departs;
Nor would endure to stay until
They 'ad got the very bride's good will,
But took a wise and shorter course
To win the ladies, downright force;
And justly made them prisoners then,
As they have, often since, us men,
With acting plays, and dancing jigs,
The luckiest of all Love's intrigues;
And, when they had them at their pleasure,
They talk'd of love and flames at leisure;
For, after matrimony 's over,

He that holds out but half a lover,
Deserves, for every minute, more.
Than half a year of love before;

For which the dames, in contemplation
Of that best way of application,

Prov'd nobler wives than e'er were known
By suit or treaty to be won;
And such as all posterity
Could never equal, nor come nigh.

For women first were made for men,
Not men for them.-It follows, then,
That men have right to every one,
And they no freedom of their own;
And therefore men have power to choose,
But they no charter to refuse.

Hence 'tis apparent that, what course
Soe'er we take to your amours,
Though by the indirectest way,
'Tis no injustice nor foul play;

And that you ought to take that course,
As we take you, for better or worse,
And gratefully submit to those

Who you,

before another, chose.
For why should every savage beast
Exceed his great lord's interest?
Have freer power than he, in Grace
And Nature, o'er the creature has?
Because the laws he since has made
Have cut off all the power he had;
Retrench'd the absolute dominion
That Nature gave him over women;
When all his power will not extend
One law of Nature to suspend ;
And but to offer to repeal
The smallest clause, is to repel.
This, if men rightly understood

Their privilege, they would make good,
And not, like sots, permit their wives
T" encroach on their prerogatives;
For which sin they deserve to be
Kept, as they are, in slavery:

And this some precious gifted teachers,
Unreverently reputed leachers,
And disobey'd in making love,

Have vow'd to all the world to prove,
And make ye suffer, as you ought,
For that uncharitable fault:

But I forget myself, and rove
Beyond th' instructions of my love

Forgive me, fair, and only blame
Th' extravagancy of my flame,
Since 'tis too much at once to show
Excess of love and temper too;
All I have said that 's bad and true,
Was never meant to aim at you,
Who have so sovereign a controul
O'er that poor slave of your's, my soul,
That, rather than to forfeit you,
Has ventured loss of Heaven too;
Both with an equal power possest,
To render all that serve you blest;
But none like him, who 's destin'd either
To have or lose you both together;
And, if you'll but this fault release,
(For so it must be, since you please)
I'll pay down all that vow, and more,
Which you commanded, and I swore,
And expiate, upon my skin,
Th' arrears in full of all my sin:
For 'tis but just that I should pay
Th' accruing penance for delay;
Which shall be done, until it move
Your equal pity and our love.—

The knight, perusing this epistle, Believ'd he 'ad brought her to his whistle, And read it, like a jocund lover,

With great applause, t' himself, twice over;
Subscrib'd his name, but at a fit
And humble distance, to his wit,
And dated it with wondrous art,

"Giv'n from the bottom of his heart;"
Then seal'd it with his coat of love,

A smoking faggot-and above,
Upon a scroll" I burn and weep,"
And near it-" For her Ladyship,
Of all her sex most excellent,
These to her gentle hands present ;"
Then gave it to his faithful squire,
With lessons how to observe and eye her.

She first consider'd which was better, To send it back, or burn the letter: But, guessing that it might import, Though nothing else, at least her sport, She open'd it, and read it out, With many a smile and leering flout; Resolv'd to answer it in kind,

And thus perform'd what she design'd.

THE LADY'S ANSWER

ΤΟ

THE KNIGHT.

THAT you 're a beast, and turn'd to grass,
Is no strange news, nor ever was,

At least to me, who once, you know,
Did from the pound replevin you,
When both your sword and spurs were won
In combat by au Amazon;

That sword, that did, like Fate, determine
Th' inevitable death of vermin,

And never dealt its furious blows,

But cut the throats of pigs and cows,

« ZurückWeiter »