Am not I here to take thy part?

Then what has quail'd thy stubborn heart?
Have these bones rattled, and this head
So often in thy quarrel bled?

Nor did I ever winch or grudge it

For thy dear fake. Quoth fhe, Mum budget.
Think'ft thou 'twill not be laid i' th' difh
Thou turn'dft thy back? Quoth Echo, Pish.
To run from those thou 'adft overcome,
Thus cowardly? Quoth Echo, Mum.
But what a vengeance makes thee fly
From me too, as thine enemy?
Or, if thou haft no thought of me,
Nor what I have endur'd for thee,
Yet fhame and honour might prevail
To keep thee thus from turning tail:

For who would grutch to fpend his blood in
His honour's caufe? Quoth fhe, a Puddin.
This faid, his grief to anger turn'd,
Which in his manly ftomach burn'd;
Thirst of revenge, and wrath, in place
Of forrow, now began to blaze.
He vow'd the authors of his woe
Should equal vengeance undergo,
And with their bones and flesh pay dear
For what he fuffer'd, and his Bear.
This being refolv'd, with equal speed
And rage he hafted to proceed
To action ftraight; and giving o'er
To fearch for Bruin any more,

250

And feeble scoundrel, Hudibras,
With that more paltry ragamuffin,
Ralpho, with vapouring and huffing,
Have put upon us, like tame cattle,
As if they' had routed us in battle?

For my part, it shall ne'er be faid
I for the washing gave my head:
Nor did I turn my back for fear
O' th' rafcals, but lofs of my Bear,

255

Which now I'm like to undergo;

For whether these fell wounds, or no,

260

He

Ver. 258.] Of them, but losing of my Bear. 1674, and all editions to 1704, exclufive.

He has receiv'd in fight, are mortal,
Is more than all my skill can foretel;
Nor do I know what is become

Of him, more than the Pope of Rome:
But if I can but find them out
That caus'd it (as I shall no doubt,
Where'er they' in hugger-mugger lurk)
I'll make them rue their handy-work,
And wish that they had rather dar'd
To pull the devil by the beard.

265

270

Have left him where he 's fafe enough:

There let him reft; for if we stay,
The flaves may hap to get away:
This faid, they all engag'd to join
Their forces in the fame defign,

290

And

And forthwith put themselves, in search
Of Hudibras, upon their march :

Where leave we them a while, to tell
What the victorious Knight befel;
For fuch, Crowdero being faft
In dungeon shut, we left him last.
Triumphant laurels feem'd to grow
No-where fo green as on his brow,
Laden with which, as well as tir'd

295

With conquering toil, he now retir'd

300

Unto a neighbouring castle by,

To rest his body, and apply

Fit med'cines to each glorious bruise

He got in fight, reds, blacks, and blues;

To mollify th' uneafy pang

305

Of every honourable bang,

(For he, in all his am'rous battles,

No 'dvantage finds like goods and chattels),

Drew home his bow, and, aiming right,

315

Let fly an arrow at the Knight;'

The

Ver. 315, 316.] In the two first editions of 1663,

this and the following line stand thus :

As how he did, and aiming right,

An arrow he let fly at Knight,

The fhaft against a rib did glance,

And gall him in the purtenance:

But time had somewhat 'fwag'd his pain,
After he found his fuit in vain :

320

For that proud dame, for whom his foul

Was burnt in 's belly like a coal

(That belly that so oft did ake,
And fuffer griping for her fake,
Till purging comfits, and ants' eggs

325

Had almost brought him off his legs)

Us'd him fo like a base rascallion,

That old Pyg---(what d' y' call him) malion,

That cut his mistress out of stone,

Had not fo hard a hearted one.

330

She had a thousand jadish tricks,

Worfe than a mule that flings and kicks;

'Mong which one crofs-grain'd freak fhe had,

As infolent as ftrange, and mad;

335

She could love none but only fuch
As fcorn'd and hated her as much.
"Twas a strange riddle of a lady;
Not love, if any lov'd her: hey-day i
So cowards never use their might,
But against fuch as will not fight.
So fome difcafes have been found

340

Only to feize upon the found.

He that gets her by heart, must say her

The back way, like a witch's prayer.

Meanwhile

Ver. 338.] Hey-day!---Ha day! in all editions till

1704; then altered to Hey-day!