Make former times shake hands with latter, 25
And that which was before, come after;
But those that write in rhyme still make
The one verfe for the other's fake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think 's fufficient at one time.
But we forget in what fad plight
We whilom left the captiv'd Knight
And penfive Squire, both bruis'd in body,
And conjur❜d into safe custody.
Tir'd with dispute, and speaking Latin,
As well as bafting and bear-baiting,
And desperate of any course,
To free himself by wit or force,
His only folace was, that now
His dog-bolt fortune was fo low,
That either it must quickly end,
*Or turn about again, and mend:
In which he found th' event, no lefs
Than other times, befide his guefs.
There is a tall long-sided dame— But wond'rous light-ycleped Fame, That like a thin cameleon boards
Herself on air, and eats her words;
Upon her shoulders wings she wears
Like hanging sleeves, lin'd thro' with ears, 50
And eyes, and tongues, as poets list,
Made good by deep mythologist:
With these she thro' the welkin flies,
And fometimes carries truth, oft' lies;
With letters hung, like eastern pigeons,
And Mercuries of furthest regions;
Diurnals writ for regulation
Of lying, to inform the nation,
And by their public use to bring down
The rate of whetstones in the kingdom:
About her neck a pacquet-male,
Fraught with advice, fome fresh, some stale,
Of men that walk'd when they were dead,
And cows of monsters brought to-bed:
Of hail-stones big as pullets eggs,
And puppies whelp'd with twice two legs:
A blazing star seen in the west,
By fix or seven men at least.
Two trumpets she does found at once,
But both of clean contrary tones;
But whether both with the fame wind,
Or one before, and one behind,
We know not; only this can tell,
Th' one founds vilely, th' other well,
And therefore vulgar authors name
The one good, th' other evil fame.
This tattling goffip knew too well, What mischief Hudibras befel ;
And straight the spightful tidings bears,
Of all, to th' unkind widow's ears.
Democritus ne'er laugh'd fo loud
To fee bawds carted through the crowd,
Or funerals with stately pomp,
March flowly on in folemn dump;
As the laugh'd out, until her back,
As well as fides, was like to crack.
She vow'd she would go see the sight,
And visit the diftreffed Knight,
To do the office of a neighbour,
And be a goffip at his labour;
And from his wooden jail, the stocks,
To fet at large his fetter-locks,
And by exchange, parole, or ransom,
To free him from th' enchanted mansion.
This b'ing refolv'd, fhe call'd for hood
And usher, implements abroad
Which ladies wear, befide a flender
Young waiting damsel to attend her.
All which appearing, on she went,
To find the Knight in limbo pent:
And 'twas not long before she found
Him, and his stout Squire in the pound;
Both coupled in enchanted tether,
By further leg behind together:
For as he fat upon his rump,
His head, like one in doleful dump,
Between his knees, his hands apply'd
Unto his ears on either fide,
And by him, in another hole,
Afflicted Ralpho, cheek by joul;
She came upon him in his wooden
Magician's circle, on the fudden,
As fpirits do t' a conjurer,
When in their dreadful shapes th' appear.
|