"Enlightened self-interet.

What makes the breaking of all oaths A holy duty ?-Food and clothes.

What laws and freedom persecution ?

B'ing out of power and contribution.

What makes a church a den of thieves ?- 1285

A Dean and Chapter and white sleeves.

And what would serve, if those were gone,

To make it orthodox ?Our own,

What makes morality a crime The most notorious of the time; Morality, which both the Saints And Wicked too cry out against ?

L

1290

'Cause grace and virtue are within Because of

Prohibited degrees of kin;

And therefore no true Saint allows

They shall be suffer'd to espouse;
For Saints can need no conscience
That with morality dispense;
As virtue's impious when 'tis rooted
In nature only, and not imputed
But why the Wicked should do so
We neither know, nor care to do.

What's liberty of conscience,
I' th' natural and genuine sense ?.

"Spre ostination? Grace &

1295

Vitue

separate, then fore. 1300 Veitice (also) graceless.

'Tis to restore with more security
Rebellion to its ancient purity;
And Christian liberty reduce
To th' elder practice of the Jews
For a large conscience is all one,
And signifies the same with none.

1305

compliance

It is enough (quoth he) for once, And has repriev'd thy forfeit bones: Nick Machiavel had ne'er a trick

1310

(Though he gave his name to our Old Nick) But was below the least of these

That pass

i' th' world for holiness.

This said, the Furies and the light

In th' instant vanish'd out of sight,

And left him in the dark alone,

1315

With stinks of brimstone and his own.

1320,

The Queen of Night, whose large command

Rules all the sea and half the land,

And over moist and crazy brains,

In high spring-tides, at midnight reigns,

1325

Was now declining to the west,

To go to bed and take her rest;

When Hudibras, whose stubborn blows
Deny'd his bones that soft repose,

Lay still, expecting worse and more,
Stretch'd out at length upon the floor;
And though he shut his eyes as fast
As if h' had been to sleep his last,
Saw all the shapes that fear or wizards
Do make the devil wear for vizards,
And, pricking up his ears to hark

1330

1335

If he could hear too in the dark,

Was first invaded with a groan,

And after, in a feeble tone,

These trembling words: Unhappy wretch!
What hast thou gotten by this fetch,

Or all thy tricks, in this new trade,
Thy holy Brotherhood o' th' blade?
By saunt ring still on some adventúre,
And growing to thy horse a Centaur?
To stuff thy skin with swelling knobs

Of cruel and hard-wooded drubs;

For still th' hast had th' worst on 't yet,

As well in conquest as defeat.

Night is the sabbath of mankind,

To rest the body and the mind,

Which now thou art deny'd to keep,

And cure thy labour'd corpse with sleep.

1340

1345

1350

The Knight, who heard the words, explain'd

As meant to him this reprimand,

Because the character did hit

Point-blank his case so fit;

upon

Believ'd it was some drolling spright
That stay'd upon the guard that night,
And one of those h' had seen, and felt
The drubs he had so freely dealt ;

1355

1360

When, after a short pause and groan,

The doleful Spirit thus went on :

This 'tis t' engage with Dogs and Bears

Pell-mell together by the ears,

And, after painful bangs and knocks,

To lie in limbo in the stocks,

1365

which b

And from the pinnacle of glory

Fall headlong into purgatory.

it, limbo

(Thought he, This devil's full of malige, by?

That on my late disaster rallies ;)—

1370

Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd ́it,

By being more heroic-minded;

And at a riding handled worse,

With treats more slovenly and coarse;
Engag'd with fiends in stubborn wars,
And hot disputes with conjurers ;

1875

Elint's limbo of the
buddies world.

And, when th' hadst bravely won the day,
Wast fain to steal thyself away.—

(I see, thought he, this shameless elf

Would fain steal me too from myself,

That impudently dares to own

What I have suffer'd for and done)—
And now, but vent'ring to betray,

1380

Hast met with vengeance the same way.
Thought he, How does the devil know

1385

What 'twas that I design'd to do?

His office of intelligence,

His oracles, are ceas'd long since;

And he knows nothing of the Saints,

But what some treach'rous spy acquaints. 1390

This is some pettifogging fiend,

Some under door-keeper's friend's friend,

That undertakes to understand,

And juggles at the secondhand,

And now would pass for Spirit Po,

1395

And all men's dark concerns foreknow.

I think I need not fear him for't;

These rallying devils do no hurt.

With that he rous'd his drooping heart,

And hastily cry'd out, What art?

1400