Hudibras in three parts.

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Title
Hudibras in three parts.
Author
Butler, Samuel, 1612-1680.
Publication
London :: Printed, and are to be sold by W. Rogers ...,
1684.
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"Hudibras in three parts." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A30770.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 23, 2025.

Pages

CANTO III. (Book 3)

The ARGUMENT.
The Knight and Squire's Prodigious Flight: To quit th' Inchanted Bow'r by Night: He plods to turn his Amorous Suit T' a Plea in Law, and prosecute: Repairs to Counsel, to advise 'Bout managing the Enterprize: But first resolves to try by Letter, And once more, fair Address, to get her.
WHo would believe what strange Bugbears Mankind creates it self, of Fears? That sprig like Fern, that Insect Weed, Equivocally, without Seed;

Page 174

And have no possible Foundation, But merely in th' Imagination: And yet can do more dreadful Feats, Than Hags, with all their Imps and Teats: Make more bewitch and haunt themselves, Than all their Nurseries of Elves. For fear does things so like a Witch, 'Tis hard t' unriddle which is which. Sets up Communities of Senses, To chop and change Intelligences: As Rosi-crusian Virtuoso's, Can see with Ears, and hear with Noses: And when they neither see nor hear, Have more than both suppli'd by Fear; That makes 'em in the dark see Visions, And hag themselves with Apparitions. And when their Eyes discover least, Discern the subt'lest Objects best. Do things not contrary alone To th' Course of Nature, but its own.

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The Courage of the Bravest daunt, And turn Pultroons as valiant; For Men as resolute appear With too much, as too little Fear. And when th' are out of hopes of flying, Will run away from Death by dying: Or turn again to stand it out, And those that fled, like Lions Rout. This Hudibras had prov'd too true, Who, by the Furies, left Perdue: And haunted with Detachments, sent From Marshal-Legion's Regiment; Was by a Fiend, as counterfeit, Reliev'd and Rescu'd with a Cheat: When nothing but himself and fear Was both the Imps and Conjurer: As by the Rules o'th Virtuosi, It follows in due Form of Posie.

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Disguis'd in all the Masks of Night, We left our Champion on his flight: At Blind-man's-buff, to grope his way, In equal fear, of Night and Day: Who took his dark and desp'rate Course, He knew no better than his Horse; And by an unknown Devil led, (He knew as little whether) fled, He never was in greater need, Nor less Capacity of Speed: Disabled both in Man and Beast, To fly, and run away, his best; To keep the Enemy, and Fear, From equal falling on his Rere. And tho with Kicks and bangs he ply'd The further, and the nearer side: (As Sea-men ride with all their force, And Tug as if they Row'd the Horse;

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And when the Hackney Sails most swift, Believe they lag, or run a-drift) So though he posted e'er so fast, His Fear was greater than his Haste: For Fear, though fleeter than the Wind, Believes 'tis always left behind. But when the Morn began to appear, And shift t' another Scene his Fear; He found his new Officious Shade, That came so timely to his Aid; And forc'd him from the Foe t' escape, Had turn'd it self to Ralpho's shape. So like in Person, Garb, and Pitch, 'Twas hard t' interpret which was which.
For Ralpho had no sooner told The Lady all he had t' unfold, But she convey'd him out of sight. To entertain the approaching Knight.

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And while he gave himself Diversion, T' accommodate his Beast and Person, And put his Beard into a posture, At best advantage to accost her: She order'd th' Antimasquerade, (For his Reception) aforesaid: But when the Ceremony was done, The Lights put out, and Furies gone; And Hudibras, amongst the rest, Convey'd away, as Ralpho guest: The wretched Caitiff all alone, (As he believ'd) began to moan, And tell his Story to himself; The Knight mistook him for an Elf. And did so still, till he began To scruple at Ralph's Outward Man; And thought, because they oft agreed, T' appear in one another's stead; And act the Saint's and Devil's Part. With undistinguishable Art;

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They might have done so now perhaps, And put on one another's Shapes; And therefore, to resolve the doubt, He star'd upon him, and cry'd out. What art? My Squire, or that bold Sprite, That took his Place and Shape to Night? Some busie Independent Pug, Retainer to his Synagogue? Alas, quoth he, I'm none of those Your Bosom-Friends, as you suppose; But Ralph himself, your trusty Squire, Wh' has drag'd your Dunship out o' th' mire; And from the Inchantments of a Widdow, Wh' had turn'd you int' a Beast, have freed you. And though a Prisoner of War, Have brought you safe, where now you are. Which you would gratefully repay, Your constant Presbyterian way. That's stranger (quoth the Knight) and stranger: Who gave thee notice of my danger?

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Quoth he, Th' Infernal Conjurer Pursu'd, and took me Prisoner; And knowing you were hereabout, Brought me along, to find you out. Where I, in Hugger-mugger hid, Have noted all they said and did: And though they lay to him the Pageant, I did not see him, nor his Agent; Who plai'd their Sorceries out of sight, T' avoid a fiercer, second Fight.
But, didst thou see no Devils then? Not one, quoth he, but Carnal Men. A little worse than Fiends in Hell, And that She-Devil, Jezabel; That laugh'd and tee-he'd with derision, To see them take your Deposition. What then (quoth Hudibras) was he That plai'd the Dev'l, to examine me?

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A Rallying Weaver in the Town, That did it in a Parson's Gown: Whom all the Parish takes for gifted; But, for my part, I ne'er believ'd it. In which you told them all your Feats, Your Conscientious Frauds and Cheats; Deny'd your Whipping, and confess'd The naked Truth of all the rest: More plainly than the Reverend Writer, That to our Churches veil'd his Mitre. All which they took in Black and White, And cudgel'd me to under-write. What made thee, when they all were gone, And none but thou and I alone; To act the Devil, and forbear To rid me of my Hellish Fear? Quoth he, I knew your constant Rate, And Frame of Sp'rite, too obstinate, To be by me prevail'd upon With any Motives of my own:

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And therefore strove to counterfeit The Dev'l a while, to Nick your Wit. The Devil, that is your constant Crony, That only can prevail upon ye; Else we might still have been disputing, And they with weighty Drubs confuting.
The Knight, who now began to find Th' had left the Enemy behind; And saw no farther harm remain, But feeble Weariness and Pain, Perceiv'd, by losing of their Way, Th' had gain'd th' advantage of the Day; And by declining of the Road, They had by chance their Rere made good. He ventur'd to dismiss his Fear, That parting's wont to Rant and Tear. And gives the desperat'st Attack To danger, still behind its Back.

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For, having paws'd to recollect, And on his past Success reflect, T' examine and consider why, And whence, and how, he came to fly; And when no Devil had appear'd, What else, it could be said, he fear'd? It put him in so fierce a Rage; He once resolv'd to re-engage; Tost like a Foot-ball back again, With Shame, and Vengeance, and Disdain.
Quoth he, It was thy Cowardise That made me from this Leaguer rise; And when I had half reduc'd the place, To quit it infamously base. Was better cover'd by thy New Arriv'd Detachment than I knew: To slight my new Acquest, and run Victoriously, from Battels won.

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And reck'ning all I gain'd or lost, To sell them cheaper than they cost, To make me put my self to flight; And Conqu'ring, run away by night. To drag me out, which th' haughty Foe, Durst never have presum'd to do. To mount me in the dark by force, Ʋpon the bare Ridge of my Horse. Expos'd in Querpo to their Rage, Without my Arms and Equipage; Lest, if they ventur'd to pursue, I might the unequal Fight renew. And, to preserve thy Outward Man, Assum'd my Place, and led the Van.
All this, quoth Ralph, I did, 'tis true, Not to preserve my self, but you. You, who were damn'd to baser Drubs, Than Wretches feel in Powd'ring Tubs;

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To mount two wheel'd Carroches, worse Than mannaging a Wooden Horse: Drag'd out through straiter Holes, by th' Ears, Eras'd, or Coup'd for Perjurers. Who, though the Attempt had prov'd in vain, Had had no reason to complain: But since it prosper'd, 'tis unhandsome To blame the Hand that paid your Ransome: And rescued your obnoxious Bones From unavoidable Battoons. The Enemy was reinforc'd, And we disabled and unhors'd: Disarm'd, unqualifi'd for Fight; And no way left, but hasty Flight. Which, though as desperate in the Attempt, Has giv'n you freedom to condemn't.
But were our Bones in fit Condition To re-inforce the Expedition,

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'Tis now unseasonable, and vain, To think of falling on again: No Martial Project to surprize, Can ever be attempted twice; Nor cast design serve afterwards, As Gamesters tear their losing Cards. Beside, our bangs of man and Beast Are fit for nothing now but Rest. And for a while will not be able To rally, and prove serviceable. And therefore I with reason chose This Stratagem, t' amuse our Foes. To make an Honourable Retreat, And wave a total sure Defeat: For, those that fly, may fight again, Which he can never do that's slain. Hence timely Running's no mean part Of Conduct, in the Martial Art, By which some Glorious Feats atchieve As Citizens, by breaking, thrive.

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And Cannons conquer Armies, while They seem to draw off and recoyl. Is held the gallantest Course, and bravest, To great Exploits, as well as safest: That spares the Expence of Time and Pains, And dangerous beating out of Brains. And in the end prevails, as certain, As those that never trust to Fortune; But make their Fear do Execution, Beyond the stoutest Resolution; As Earth-quakes kill, without a Blow, And only trembling, overthrow. If th' Ancients Crown'd their bravest men That only sav'd a Citizen, What Victory could e'er be won, If ev'ry one would save but one? Or Fight endanger'd to be lost, Where all resolve to save the most? By this means, when a Battel's won, The War's as far from being done:

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For those that save themselves, and fly, Go halves, at least, in th' Victory: And sometime, when their loss is small, And danger great, they challenge all: Print new additions to their Feats, And Emendations in Gazets; And when, for furious haste to run, They durst not stay to fire a Gun: Have don't with Bone-fires, and at home, Make Squibs and Crackers overcome.
To set the Rabble on a Flame, And keep their Governours from Blame, Disperse the News, the Pulpit tells, Confirm'd with Fire-works, and with Bells: And though reduc'd to that Extream, They have been forc'd to sing Te Deum; Yet, with Religious Blasphemy, By flattering Heaven with a Lie,

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And for their Beating, giving Thanks, Th' have rais'd Recruits, and fill'd their Banks; For those who run from the Enemy, Engage them equally to fly. And when the Fight becomes a Chace, Those win the Day, that win the Race; And that which would not pass in Fights, Has done the Feat with easie Slights. Recover'd many a desp'rate Campain, With Bourdeaux, Burgundy and Champain. Restor'd the fainting High and Mighty With Brandy-Wine and Aqua-vitae. And made them stoutly overcome, With Bacrach, Hocamore and Mum: Whom, the uncontroul'd Decrees of Fate To Victory necessitate; With which, although they run or burn, They unavoidably return: Or else their Sultan-Populaces Still stragle all their routed Bassa's.

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Quoth Hudibras, I understand What Fights thou mean'st at Sea and Land; And who those were that run away, And yet gave out th' had won the day: Although the Rabble souc'd them for't, O'er Head and Ears in Mud and Dirt. 'Tis true, our Modern way of War Is grown more politick by far; But not so resolute and bold, Nor ty'd to Honour, as the Old. For, now they laugh at giving Battel, Ʋnless it be to Herds of Cattel: Or fighting Convoys of Provision, The whole design of the Expedition. And not with down-right blows to rout The Enemy, but eat them out: As Fighting in all Beasts of Prey, And Eating are perform'd one way,

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To give defiance to their teeth, And fight their stubborn Guts to death, And those atchieve the high'st Renown, That bring the other Stomachs down, There's now no fear of wounds nor maiming, All dangers are reduc'd to Famine. And Feats of Arms, to Plot, Design, Surprize, and Stratagem, and Mine. But have no need, nor use of Courage, Ʋnless it be for Glory, or Forrage: For if they fight, 'tis but by chance, When one side vent'ring to advance, And come uncivilly too near, Are charg'd unmercifully i'th' Rere: And forc'd with terrible resistance, To keep hereafter at a distance; To pick out Ground to incamp upon Where store of largest Rivers run, That serve instead of peaceful Barriers To part th' Engagements of their Warriers.

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Where both from side to side may skip, And only encounter at Bo-peep. For Men are found the stouter hearted, The certainer th' are to be parted. And therefore post themselves in Bogs, As the ancient Mice attack'd the Frogs: And made their mortal Enemy, The Water-Rat, their great Ally. For 'tis not now, who's stout and bold; But who bears Hunger best, and Cold: And he's approv'd the most deserving, Who longest can hold out at starving: But he that routs most Pigs and Cows, The formidablest Man of Prowess. So, the Emperor Caligula, That triumph'd o'er the British Sea; Took Crabs and Oysters Prisoners, And Lobsters, 'stead of Curasiers; Engag'd his Legions in fierce Bustles, With Periwinkles, Prawns and Muscles:

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And led his Troops with furious Gallops, To charge whole Regiments of Scallops. Not like their ancient way of War, To wait on his Triumphal Carr, But when he went to Dine or Sup, More bravely eat his Captives up; And left all Wars by his Example, Reduc'd to vict'ling of a Camp well.
Quoth Ralph, by all that you have said, And twice as much that I could add, Tis plain, you cannot now do worse, Than take this out-of-fashion'd course: To hope by stratagem to woo her, Or waging Battle to subdue her. Though some have done it in Romances, And bang'd them into amorous Fancies, As those who won the Amazons, By wanton urubbing of their bones:

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And stout Rinaldo gain'd his Bride By Courting of her Back and Side. But since those times and feats are over, They are not for a Modern Lover: When Mistresses are too cross-grain'd, By such Addresses to be gain'd: And if they were, would have it out, With many other kind of Bout. Therefore I hold no Course's infesible As this of force to win the Jezabel, To storm her heart, by th' Antick Charms Of Ladies Errant, force of Arms; But rather strive by Law to win her, And try the Title you have in her, Your case is clear, you have her Word, And me to witness the Accord. Besides two more of her Retinue, To testifie what pass'd between you. More probable, and like to hold, Than Hand, or Seal, or breaking Gold

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For which so many that renounc'd Their plighted Contracts, have been trounc'd. And Bills upon Record been found, That forc'd the Ladies to compound: And that, unless I miss the matter, Is all the business you look after: Besides, Encounters at the Bar, Are braver now, than those in War, In which the Law does Execution, With less Disorder and Confusion: Has more of Honour in't some hold, Not like the New way, but the Old. When those the Pen had drawn together, Divided Quarrels with the Feather, And winged Arrows kill'd as dead, And more then Bullets now of Lead. So all their Combats now, as then, Are manag'd chiefly by the Pen. That does he Feat, with braver Vigours, In words a length, as well as Figures.

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Is Judge of all the World performs, In voluntary Feats of Arms. And whatso'ere's atchiev'd in Fight, Determines which is wrong or right? For whether you Prevail or Lose, All must be try'd there in the close. And therefore 'tis not wise to shun, What you must trust to, ere y' have done.
The Law, that settles all you do, And marries where you did but woo. That makes the most perfidious Lover, A Lady, that's as false, recover: And if it judge upon your side, Will soon extend her for your Bride; And put her Person, Goods, or Lands, Or which you like best int' your hands;
For Law's the Wisdom of all Ages And manag'd by the ablest Sages,

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Who through their Bus'ness at the Bar. Be but a kind of Civil War. In which th' ingage with fiercer Dudgeons Than e're the Grecians did and Trojans. They never manage the Contest, T' impair their publick Interest; Or by their Controversies, lessen The dignity of their Profession: Not like us Brethren, who divide Our Common-wealth, the Cause and Side, And though w' are all as near of Kindred As the outward Man is to the Inward; We agree in nothing but to wrangle About the slightest fingle fangle, While Lawyers have more sober sense, Than to argue at their own expence. But make their best Advantages, Of other quarrels, like the Swiss, And out of Foreign Controversies, By aiding both sides, fill their Purses.

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But have no int'rest in the Cause, For which th' engage, and wage the Laws: Nor further Prospect than their Pay, Whether they lose or win the Day. And though th' abounded in all Ages, With sundry learned Clerks, and Sages; Though all their business be Dispute, With which they canvas every Suit; Th' have no disputes about their Art, Nor in Polemicks controvert. While all Professions else are found, With nothing but Disputes t' abound; Divines of all sorts, and Physicians, Philosophers, Mathematicians; The Gallenist, and Paracelsian, Condemn the way each other deals in▪ Anatomists dissect and mangle, To cut themselves out Work to wrangle. Astrologers dispute their Dreams; That in their sleeps they talk of Scheme.

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And Heralds stickle, who got who, So many hundred Years ago.
But Lawyers are too wise a Nation, T' expose their Trade to Disputation: Or make the busie Rabble Judges, Of all their secret Piques, and Grudges: In which whoever wins the day, The whole Profession's sure to pay.
Beside, no Mountebanks, nor Cheats Dare undertake to do their Feats; When in all other Sciences, They swarm, like Insects, and Increase: 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 th' are Fools.

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And if you follow their Advice, In Bills and Answers, and Replies: They'l write a Love-letter in Chancery Shall bring her upon Oath to Answer ye. And soon Reduce you to b' your Wife, Or make her weary of her Life.
The Knight who us'd with Tricks and Shifts, To Edifie by Ralpho's Gifts: But in appearance cry'd him down, To make them better seem his own, (All Plagiary's Constant Course Of sinking, when they take a Purse) Resolv'd to follow his Advice, But kept it from him in disguise: And after stubborn Contradiction, To Counterfeit his own Conviction, And by Transition, fall upon The Resolution, as his own.

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Quoth he; This Gambol thou advisest, Is of all others, the unwisest; For if I think by Law to gain her, There's nothing fillier nor vainer. 'Tis but to hazard my Pretence, Where nothing's certain but th' Expence. To act against my self, and traverse My Suit and Title to her Favours. And if she should, which Heaven forbid, O'rethrow me, as the Fidler 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 scottish Chews. Who when a Thief has Rob'd his house; Applyes himself to Cunning-men To help him to his Goods again.

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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 desp'rate to recover. For bad Games are thrown up too soon, Ʋntil th' are 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 be avoided now, For Sidrophel resolves to sue: Whom I must answer, or begin Inevitably, first with him.

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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 averr 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 surprize. 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.

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And truly so, no doubt, he was, A Lawyer fit for such a Case.
An Old Dull Sot; wh' had told the Clock, For many years at Bridewel-Dock. At Westminster, and Hickses-Hall, And Hiccius-Dockius play'd in all; Where in all Governments, and Times, H' had been both friend, and foe to Crimes, And us'd two equal ways of gaining, By hindring Justice, or maintaining: To many a Whore gave Priviledge, And whip'd for want of Quarteridge, Cart-loads of Bawds, to Prison sent For b'ing behind a Fortnights Rent. And many a trusty Pimp and Croney, To Puddle-dock, for want of money. Ingag'd the Constable to seize All those, that would not break the Peace.

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Nor give him back his own foul words, Though sometimes Commoners or Lords: And kept 'em Prisoners, of Course, For being sober at ill hours. That in the Morning he might Free, Or bind 'em over, for his Fee. Made Monsters fine, and Puppet plays, For leave to practice, 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 Publick Ground: The Kennel and the King's High-way, 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 Chandellers. Made Victuallers, and Vintners Fine For Arbtrary Ale and Wine.

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But was a kind and constant Friend To all that Regularly offend: As Residentiary Bawds, And Brokers that receive stoll'n Goods; That cheat in Lawful Mysteries, And pay Church-duties, and his Fees; But was implacable and auker'd 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 Mony 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 the other courteously strain'd.

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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, t' have beaten me. Better, and better still, quoth he. And vows to stick me to a Wall Where e're he meets me—best of all. 'Tis true, the Knave has taken's Oath That I rob'd him—Well done in troth. When h'has confest 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, before hand Swear he rob'd me? I understand, Or bring my Action of Conversion And Trover for my Goods? Ah Whorson.

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Or if 'tis better to indite, 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 th' Action—better still. Then there's a Lady too.—I 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 the aforesaid Sidrophel, To tamper with the Dev'l of Hell. Who put me into horrid fear, Fear of my Life,—Make that appear. Made an assault, with Fiends and Men. Ʋpon my body.—Good agen.

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And kept me in a deadly fright And false Imprisonment all Night, Mean while, they rob'd me, and my Horse, And stole my Saddle, — worse and worse; And made mount upon the bare-ridge, T' avoid 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 th' have 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'ld make her kneel for bett'r or worse; For Matrimony, and Hanging here, Both go by destiny so clear,

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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 practice dare not own, The Law severely contrabands, Our taking Business off Mens hands; 'Tis Common barratry, that bears Point 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 Sommer-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:

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(I thank you, quoth the Knight, for that, Because 'tis to my purpose pat—) For Justice, though she's painted blind, Is to the weaker side enclin'd, Like charity, else right, and wrong, Could never hold it out so long, And, like blind Fortune, with a slight, Conveys Mens Interest, and Right, From Stiles's Pocket, into Nokeses: 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 others matters Pass, The Business to the Law's alone, The proof is all it look's upon. And you can want no Witnesses, To swear to any thing you please.

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That hardly get their meer Expences By th' Labor of their Consciences, Or letting out to hire, their Ears, To Affidavit Customers: At inconsiderable values, To serve for Jury-men, or Tales, Although retain'd in th' hardest matters, Of Trustees, and Administrators: For that, quoth he, let me alone, W' have 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 of Advantages. Your surest way is first to Pitch On Bougey, for a Water-witch: And when y' have hang'd the Conjurer, Y' have time enough to deal with her. In th' Intrim; Spare for no Trepans, To draw her Neck, into the Banes;

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Ply her with Love-Letters, and Billets, And Bait'em well, for Quirks, and Quillets, With Trains t' inveigle and surprise, Her Heedless Answers, and Reply's: And if she miss the Moustrap-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 Intrap her. 'Till with her worldly Goods, and Body, Spight of her heart, she has indow'd ye
Retain all sorts of Witnesses, That ply ith' Temples, under Trees. Or walk the Round, with Knights ot'h Posts: About the Cross-leg'd Knights, their hosts, Or wait for Customers, between The Piller-Rows in Lincolns-Inn.

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Where Vouchers, Forgers, Common-bayl, And Affidavit-men, ne'r fail T' expose to Sale, all sorts of Oaths, According to their Ears, and Cloaths. Their only Necessary Tools, Besides the Gospel, and their Souls. And when y' are 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 admirabler skill To Wind, and Manage it at Will: To Vere, 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 have earn'd (here 'tis) your Fee,

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I long to practice 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 humm'd upon it, thus he writ.
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