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And that both are so near of kin,
And like in all, as well as sin,
That, put them in a bag, and fhake them,
Yourself o'th' sudden would mistake them,
And not know which is which, unless
You measure by their wickedness;
For 'tis not hard t'imagine whether
O'th' two is worst, though I name neither.
Quoth Hudibras, Thou offer'ft much,
But art not able to keep touch.
Mira de lente, as 'tis i’ th' adage,
Id eft, to make a leek a cabbage ;
Thou wilt at best but suck a bull,
Or shear swine, all cry, and no wool;
For what can Synods have at all,
With Bear that 's analogical ?
Or what relation has debating
Of Church affairs with Bear-baiting?
A just comparison ftill is
Of things ejufdem generis:
Ver. 851.] This and the following line thus altered
Thou canst at belt but overstrain
A paradox, and thy own brain. Thus they continued in the editions 1684, 1689, 1700. Restored in 1704, in the following blundering manner,
Thou 'lt be at best but such a bull, &c. and the blunder continued in all the editions till Dx. Gray's.
And then what genus rightly doth
Include and comprehend them both ?
If animal, both of us may
As justly pass for bears as they;
For we are animals no less,
Although of different specieses.
But, Ralpho, this is no fit place,
Nor time, to argue out the case:
For now the field is not far off,
Where we must give the world a proof
Of deeds, not words, and such as suit
Another manner of dispute :
A controversy that affords
Actions for arguments, not words ;
Which we must manage at a rate
Of prowess and conduct adequate
To what our place and fame doth promise,
And all the Godly expect from us.
Nor shall they be deceiv’d, unless
We 're flurr’d and outed by success;
Success, the mark no mortal wit,
Or sureft hand, can always hit:
For whatsoe'er we perpetrate,
We do but row, w' are steer'd by Fate,
Which in success oft disinherits,
For spurious causes, noblest merits.
Ver.860. Include, &c.] in the two first editions of 1663,
Comprehend them inclusive both.
Ver. 862.] As likely, in the two first editions.
Great actions are not always true fons
Of great and mighty resolutions;
Nor do the bold'st attempts bring forth
Events still equal to their worth ;
But sometimes fail, and in their stead
Fortune and cowardice succeed.
Yet we have no great cause to doubt,
Our actions still have borne us out;
Which though they ’re known to be so ample,
We need not copy from example;
We 're not the only person durft
Attempt this province, nor the first.
In northern clime a valourous knight
Did whilom kill his Bear in fight,
And wound a Fiddler: we have both
Of these the objects of our wroth,
And equal fame and glory from
Th' attempt, or victory to come.
'Tis sung there is a valiant Mamaluke,
In foreign land yclep'd ;
To whom we have been oft compar'd
For person, parts, address, and beard;
Both equally reputed stout,
And in the same cause both have fought;
Ver. 904.] The writers of the General Historical Dictionary, vol. vi. p. 291, imagine, " That the chasm “ here is to be filled with the words Sir Samuel Luke, “ because the line before it is of ten fyllables, and the " measure of the verse generally used in this poem is. I of eight.”.
He oft in such attempts as these
Came off with glory and success:
Nor will we fail in th' execution,
For want of equal resolution.
Honour is like a widow, won
With brisk attempt and putting on;
With entering manfully, and urging;
Not slow approaches, like a virgin.
This faid, as erst the Phrygian knight,
So our's, with rusty steel did smite
His Trojan horse, and just as much
He mended pace upon the touch ;
But from his empty stomach groan'd
Just as that hollow beast did found,
answer'd from behind,
With brandith'd tail and blaft of wind.
So have I seen, with armed heel,
A wight bestride a Common-weal,
While still, the more he kick'd and spurr'd,
The less the fullen jade has ftirr'd.
The catalogue and character
Of th' enemies belt men of war,
Whom, in a bold harangue, the Knight
Defies, and challenges to fight :
H' encounters Talgol, routs the Bear,
And takes the Fiddler prisoner,
Conveys him to inchanted castle,
There shuts him faft in wooden Bastile.
HERE was an ancient sage philosopher
And swore the world, as he could prove,
Was made of fighting and of love,
Just so Romances are, for what else
Is in them all but love and battles?
O'th' first of these w' have no great matter
To treat of, but a world o' th’ latter,
In which to do the injur’d right,
We mean in what concerns just fight,