For when a shin in sight is cropt,
The knee with one of timber's propt;
Esteem'd more hon'rable than the other,
And takes place, tho' the younger brother.
Next march'd brave Orsin, famous for
Wise conduct, and success in war;
A skilful leader, stout, severe,
Now marshal to the champion Bear.
With truncheon tipt with iron head,
The warrior to the lists he led:
With solemn march, and stately pace,
But far more grave and solemn face;
Grave as the Emperor of Pegu,
Or Spanish potentate, Don Diego.
This leader was of knowledge great,
Either for charge, or for retreat.
He knew when to fall on pell-mell,
To fall back and retreat as well.
So lawyers, lest the Bear defendant,
And plaintiff Dog, should make an end on't,
Do stave and tail with writs of error,
Reverse of judgment, and demurrer,
To let them breath awhile, and then
Cry whoop, and set them on again.
As Romulus a wolf did rear,
In public gardens at a blow,
And leave th' herbs standing. Quoth Sir Sun,
My friends, that is not to be done.
Not done! quo' Statesman; yes, an't please ye,
When 'tis once known, you'll say 'tis easy.
Why then let's know it, quoth Apollo.
We'll beat a drum, and they'll all follow.
A drum, quoth Phoebus, troth that's true,
A pretty invention, quaint and new;
But tho' of voice and instrument
We are th' undoubted president,
We such loud music don't profess;
The Devil's master of that office
Where it must pass, if 't be a drum
He'll sign it with Cler. Parl. Dom. Com.
To him apply yourselves, and he
Will soon dispatch you for his fee.
They did so; but it prov'd so ill,
Th'ad better let 'em grow there still.
But to resume what we discoursing
Were on before, that is, stout Orзin;
That which so oft by sundry writers
Has been apply'd t' almost all fighters,
More justly may b' ascribed to this,
Than any other warrior, (viz.)
None ever acted both parts holder,
Both of a chieftain and a soldier.
Who, that their base births might be hid,
(Knowing they were of a doubtful gender, And that they came in at a window,)
Made Jupiter himself and others
O' th' gods, gallants to their own mothers,
To get on them a race of champions,
(Of which old Homer first made lampoons.) Arctophylax in northern sphere
Was his undoubted ancestor ;
From him his great forefathers came,
And in all ages bore his name.
Learned he was in med'c'nal lore;
For by his side a pouch he wore,
Replete with strange hermetic powder,
"That wounds nine miles point-blank would solder,
By skilful chymist with great cost
Extracted from a rotten post;
But of a heav'nlier influence
Than that which mountebanks dispense;
Tho' by Promethean fire made,
As they do quack that drive that trade.
For as when slovens do amiss
At others' doors, by stool or piss,
The learned write, a red-hot spit
Being prudently apply'd to it,
Will convey mischief from the dung
Unto the part that did the wrong:
So this did healing, and as sure
As that did mischief, this would cure.
Thus virtuous Orsin was endu'd
With learning, conduct, fortitude
Incomparable; and as the prince
Of poets, Homer, sung long since,
A skilful leech is better far
Than half a hundred men of war;
So he appear'd, and by his skill,
No less than dint of sword, could kill.
About his neck a threefold gorget,
As rough as trebled leathern target;
Armed, as heralds, cant, and langued,
Or, as the vulgar say, sharp-fanged.
For as the teeth in beasts of prey
Are swords, with which they fight in fray;
So swords, in men of war, are teeth
Which they do eat their vittle with.
He was by birth, some authors write,
A Russian, some a Muscovite;
And 'mong the Cossacks had been bred,
Of whom we in diurnals read,
That serve to fill up pages here,
As with their bodies ditches there:
Scrimansky was his cousin-german,
With whom he serv'd, and fed on vermin:
And when these fail'd, he'd suck his claws,
And quarter himself upon his paws.
And tho' his countrymen, the Huns,
Did stew their meat between their bums
And th' horses backs o'er which they straddle,
To aid his Dog; both made more stout,
By several spurs of neighbourhood,
Church, fellow-membership, and blood;
But Talgol, mortal foe to cows,
Never got ought of him but blows;
Blows, hard and heavy, such as he
Had lent, repaid with usury.
Yet Talgol was of courage stout,
And vanquish'd oft'ner than he fought;
Inur'd to labour, sweat, and toil,
And, like a champion, shone with oil,
Right many a widow his keen blade,
And many fatherless, had made.
He many a boar and hugh dun cow,
Did, like another Guy, o'erthrow;
But Guy with him in fight compar'd,
Had like the boar and dun cow far'd.
With greater troops of sheep h' had fought,
Than Ajax, or bold Don Quixote ;
And many a serpent of fell kind,
With wings before, and stings behind,
Subdu'd, as poets say, long agone,
Bold Sir George, St. George, did the dragon.
'Tis great and large, but base if mean.
The former rides in triumph for it,
The latter in a two-wheel'd chariot,
For daring to profane a thing,
So sacred with vile bungling.
Next these the brave Magnano came,
Magnano! great in martial fame.
Yet when with Orsin he wag'd fight,
'Tis sung he got but little by't..
Yet he was fierce as forest boar,
Whose spoils upon his back he wore.
As thick as Ajax' seven-fold shield,
Which o'er his brazen arms he held;
But brass was feeble to resist,
The fury of his armed fist:
Nor could the hardest iron hold out
Against his blows, but they would through't.
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