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Believ'd it now the fittest moment
To lhun the danger that might come on’t,
While Hudibras was all alone,
And he and Whachum, two to one:
This being resolv’d, he spy'd by chance,
Behind the door, an iron lance,
That many a sturdy limb had gor’d,
And legs, and loins, and shoulders bor'd;
He snatch'd it up, and made a pass,
To make his way thro' Hudibras.
Whachum had got a fire-fork,
With which he vow'd to do his work ;
But Hudibras was well prepar’d,
And stoutly stood upon his guard :
He put by Sidrophello's thrust,
And in right manfully he rusht,
The weapon from his gripe he wrung,
nd laid him on the earth along.

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Whachum his sea-coal prong threw by,
And basely turn'd his back to fly;
But Hudibras gave him a twitch,

As quick as lightning, in the breech,
Just in the place where honour's lodg’d,
As wise philosophers have judg’d';
Because a kick in that part more
Hurts honour, than deep wounds before. 1070

Quoth Hudibras, the stars determine
You are my prisoners, base vermine.
Could they not tell you so, as well
As what I came to know, foretel ?
By this, what cheats you are, we find,
That in your own concerns are blind.
Your lives are now at my dispose,
To be redeem'd by fine or blows :
But who his honour would defile,
To take, or sell, two lives fo vile ?



I'll give you quarter ; but your pillage,
The conqu’ring warrior's crop and tillage,
Which with his sword he reaps and plows,
That's mine, the law of arms allows.

This said in haste, in haste he fell

1085 To rummaging of Sidrophel. First, he expounded both his pockets, And found a watch with rings and lockets, Which had been left with him t erect A figure for, and so detect.

1090 A copper-plate, with almanacks Engray'd upon't, with other knacks Of Booker's, Lilly's, Sarah Jimmers, And blank-schemes to discover nimmers; A moon-dial with Napier's bones,

1095 And fev'ral constellation stones,


Engrav'd in planetary hours,
That over mortals had strange powers
To make them thrive in law or trade,
And stab or poison to evade ;
In wit or wisdom to improve,
And be victorious in love.
Whachum had neither cross nor pile,
His plunder was not worth the while ;
All which the conqu’or did discompt,
To pay for curing of his rump.


But Sidrophel, as full of tricks
As rota-men of politics,
Straight cast about to over-reach
Th’unwary conqu’ror with a fetch,
And make him glad at least to quit
His victory, and fly the pit,




Before the secular prince of darkness
Arriv'd to seize upon his carcass :
And, as a fox with hot pursuit,
Chac'd through a warren, caft about
To save his credit, and among
Dead vermine on a gallows hung,
And while the dogs ran underneath,
Escap'd, by counterfeiting death,
Not out of cunning, but a train
Of atoms justling in his brain,
As learn'd philosophers give out;
So Sidrophello cast about,
And fell to's wonted trade again,
To feign himself in earnest slain :
First stretch'd out one leg, then another,
And, seeming in his breast to smother
A broken sigh, quoth he, where am I-
Alive, or dead? or which way came I



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