Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A30743
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Hudibras written in the time of the late wars.
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Butler, Samuel, 1612-1680.
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1663
(1663)
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Wing B6296; ESTC R7750
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45,116
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128
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now fierce Colon 'gan draw on To aid the distrest Champion Him Ralph encountred and straight grew A dismal Combat 'twixt them two Th' one arm'd with mettle th' other wood This fit for bruise and that for blood With many a stiff thwack many a bang Hard Crab-tree and old Iron rang While none that saw them cold divine To which side conquest would encline Until Magnano who did envy That two should with so many men vye By subtle sâ—…ratagem of brain Perform'd what force could ne're attain For he by soul hap having found Where Thistle grew on barren ground Her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 underneath the Tail Of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as sharp as nail The angry beast did straight esent And feel regret on fundament 〈◊〉 to kick and fling and wince As if h' had been beside his sense Striving to dis-engage from thistle That gall'd him sorely under his tail Instead of which he threw the pack Of Squire and baggage from his back And blundring still with smarting rump He gave the Knight's Steed such a thump As made him feel The Knight did stoop And sate on further side a slope This Talgol viewing who had now By slight â—…eap'd the fatal blow He rally'd and again fell to 't 〈◊〉 catching ice by nearer foot He lifted with such might and strength As would have hurl'd him thrice his length And dash'd his brains if any out But Mars that still protects the stout In pudding-time came to his aid And under him the Bear convey'd The Bear upon whose soft fur-gown The Knight with all his weight fell down The friendly rug preserv'd the ground And headlong Knight from bruise or wound Like feather-bed betwixt a wall And heavy brunt of Cannon-ball As Sancho on a blanket fell And had no hurt ours fat'd as well In body though his mighty spirit B'ing heavy did not so well bear it The Bear was in a greater fright Beat down and worsted by the Knight He roar'd and rag'd and flung about To shake of bondage from his snour His wrath enflam'd boil'd o're from His jaws of death he threw the foam Fury in stranger postures threw him And more than ever He rauld drew him He tore the earth which he had sav'd From squelch of Knight and storm'd and rav'd And vext the more because the harms He felt were 'gainst the Law of Arms For men he always took to be His friends and Dogs the enemy Who never so much hurt had done him As his own side did falling on him It griev'd him to the guts that they For whom h' had fought so many a fray And serv'd with loss of blood so long Should offer such inhumane wrong Wrong of unsouldier-like condition For which he flung down his Commission And laid about him till his nose From thrall of ring and cord broke loose Soon as he sel himself enlarg'd Through thickest of his foes he charg'd And made way through th' amazed crew Some he o'reran and some o'rethrew But took none for by hasty flight He strove t' escape pursu'e of Knight From whom he fled with as much haste And dread as he thâ—… Rabble chas'd In hast he fled and so did they Each and his fear a sev'ral way Crowdero only kept the field Not stirâ—…g from the place he held Though beaten down and wounded sore I' th' Fiddle and a Leg that bore One side of him not that of bone But much its betters th' wooden one He spying Hudibras lye strow'd Upon the ground like log of wood With fright of fall supposed wound And loss of Urine cast in swound In haste he snatch'd the wooden limb That hurt in th' ankle lay by him And listing it for sudden fight Straight drew it up to fall on Knight For getting up on stump and huckle He with the foe began to buckle Vowing to be reveng'd for breach Of Crowd and skin upon the wretch Sole Author of all Detriment He and his Fiddle underwent But Ralpho who had now begun T' adventure resurrection From heavy squelch and had got up Upon his legs with sprained Crup Looking about beheld pernicion Approaching Knight from fell Musician He snatch'd his Whiniard up that fled When he was falling off his Steed As Rats do from a falling house To hide it self from rage of blows And wing'd with speed and fury flew To rescue Knight from black and blew Which e're he could atchieve his Sconce The Skin encounter'd twice and once And now 't was rais'd to smite agen When Ralpho thrust himself between He took the blow on side and arm To shield the Knight entraâ—…nc'd from harm 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 wâ—…h force bestow'd Oâ—… th' wooden 〈◊〉 such a load That 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 bore Crowdero whom it propp'd beâ—…re To him the Squire right 〈◊〉 run And seeing conquering â—…oor upon His 〈◊〉 thus 〈◊〉 What desp'rate frenzie Made thâ—… thou whelp of sin to fancy Thy self and all that coward Rabble T' encounter us in battel able How 〈◊〉 th' I say oppose thy Curship 'Gainst Arms Authority and Worship And Hudibras or me provoke Though all thy limbs were heart of Oke And th' other half of thee as good 〈◊〉 our blows as that of wood Could ot the whipping post prevail With all its Rhet'rick 〈◊〉 the Gaol To keep from flaying 〈◊〉 thy skin 〈◊〉 â—…nkle free from Iron gin Which 〈◊〉 thou shalt but first our care 〈◊〉 see how Hudibras doth â—…re This 〈◊〉 gently rais'd the Knight And 〈◊〉 him on hiâ—… 〈◊〉 upright 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 from 〈◊〉 dump 〈◊〉 weak'd nose with gentle thump 〈◊〉 on his breast as if 't had been 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 lodg'd within 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with the noise did slye From 〈◊〉 â—…oom to window eye And gently op'ning 〈◊〉 â—…he caâ—…ment Lookt out but yet with some amazement This gladded Ralpho much to see Who thus bespoke the Knight quoth he Tweaking his nose You are great Sir A self-denying Conquerout As high victorious and great As e're fought for the Churches yet If you will give your self but leave To make out what y' already have That 's Victory The foe for dread Of your Nine-worthiness is fled All save Crowdero for whose sake You did th' espous'd Cause undertake And he lies pris'ner at your feet To be dispos'd as you think meet Either for life or death or sale The Gallows or perpetual Goal For one wink of your pow'rful eye Must sentence him to live or dye His Fiddle is your proper purchase Wone in the service of the Churches And by your doom must be allow'd To be or be no more a Crowd For though success did not confer Just Title on the Conquerer Though dispensations were not strong Conclusions whether right or wrong Although Out-goings did not confirm And Owning were but a meer term Yet as the wicked have no right To th' Creature though usurp'd by might The property is in the Saint From whom th' injuriously detain't Of him they hold their Luxuries Their Dogs their Horses Whores and Dice Their Riots Revels Masks
Delights Pimps Buffoons Fidlers Parasites All which the Saints have title to And ought t' enjoy if th' had their due What we take from them is no more Then what was ours by right before For we are their true Landlords still And they our Tenants but at will At this the Knight begnn to rouse And by degrees grow valorous He stat'd about and seeing none Of all his foes remain but one He snatch'd his weapon that lay near him And from the ground began to rear him Vowing to make Crowdero pay For all the rest that ran away But Ralpho now in colder blood His fury mildly thus withstood Great Sir quoth he your mighty spirit Is rais'd too high this Slave does merit To be the Hangmans bus'ness sooner Then from your hand to have the honour Of his Destruction I that am A Nothingnesse in deed and name Did scorn to hurt his forfeit Carcasse Or ill intreat his Fiddle or Case Will you Great Sir that glory blot In cold blood which you gain'd in hot Will you employ your Conqu'ring Sword To break a Fiddle and your word For though I fought and overcame And Quarter gave 't was in your name For great Commanders alwayes own What 's prosperous by the Souldier done To save where you have pow'r to kill Argues your Pow'r above your Will And that your will and pow'r have lesse Then both might have of selfishnesse This pow'r which now alive with dread He trembles at if he were dead Would no more keep the slave in awe Then if you were a Knight of Straw For Death would then be his Conqueror Not you and free him from that terror If danger from his life accrew Or honour from his death to you 'T were policy and honour too To do as you resolv'd to do But Sir 't would wrong your Valour much To say it needs or fears a Crutch Great Conquerors greater glory gain By foes in Triumph led then slain The Lawâ—…s that adorn their brows Are pull'd from living not dead boughs And living foes the greatest fame Of Cripple slain can be but lame One half of him 's already slain The other is not worth your pain Th' Honour can but on one side light As Worship did when y'were dub'd Knight Wherefore I think it better far To keep him Prisoner of War And let him fast in bonds abide At Court of Justice to be try'd Where if h'appear so bold or crafty There may be danger in his safety If any Member there dislike His Face or to his Beard have pike Or if his death will save or yield Revenge or fright it is reveal'd Though he has Quarter ne'rethelesse Y' have pow'r to hang him when you please This hath been often done by some Of our great Conquerors you know whom 〈◊〉 has by most of us been held Wise Justice and to some reveal'd For and promises that yoke The Conquerour are quickly broke Like Sampson's Cuâ—… though by his own Direction and advice put on For if we should fight for the Cause By rules of military Laws And only do what they call just The Cause would quickly fall to dust This we among our selves may speak But to the Wicked or the Weak We must be cautious to declare Perfection-truths such as these are This said the high out ragious mettle Of Knight began to cool and settle He lik'd the Squire 's advice and soon Resolv'd to see the bus'ness done And therefore charg'd him first to bind Crowdero's hands on rump behind And to its sormer place and use The Wooden member to reduce But force it take an Oath before Ne're to bear arms against him more Ralpho dispatch'd with speedy hast And having ty'd Crowdero fast He gave Sir Knight the end of Cord To lead the Captive of his Sword In triumph while the Steeds he caught And them to further service brought The Squire in state rode on before And on his nut-brown Whyniard bore The Trophee Fiddle and the Case Leaning on shoulder like a Mace The Knight himself did after ride Leading Crowdero by his side And tow'd him if he lagg'd behind Like Boat against the Tide and Wind. Thus grave and solemn they march on Untill quite through the Town th' had gone At further end of which there stands An antient Castle that commands Th' adjacent parts in all the fabrick You shall not see one stone nor a brick But all of wood by pow'rfull Spell Of Magick made impregnable There 's neither Iron-bat nor Gate Port-cullis Chain or Bolt or Grate And yet men durance there abide In Dungeon scarce three inches wide With Roof so low that under it They never stand but lye or sit And yet so foul that whoso is in Is to the middle-leg in Prison In Circle Magical confin'd With walls of subtle Air and Wind Which none are able to break thorough Untill th' are freed by head of Burrough Thither arriv'd th' advent'rous Knight And bold Squire from their Steeds alight At th' outward wall near which there stands A Bastile built t' imprison hands By strange enchantment made to fetter The lesser parts and free the greater For though the Body may creep through The Hands in Grate are fast enough And when a circle 'bout the wrist Is made by Beadle Exorcist The Body feels the Spur and Switch As if 't were ridden Post by ' witch At twenty miles an hour pace And yet ne're stirs out of the place On top of this there is a Spire On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire The Fiddle and its Spoyls the Case In manner of a Trophee place That done they ope the Trap-door-gate And let Crowdero down thereat Crowdero making dolefull face Like Hermit poor in pensive place To Dungeon they the wretch commit And the survivor of his feet But th' other that had broke the peace And head of Knight hood they release Though a Delinquent false and forged Yet b'ing a Stranger he 's enlarged While his Comrade that did no hurt Is clapt up fast in Prison for 't So Justice while she winks at Crimes Stumbles on Innocence sometimes THE ARGUMENT OF THE THIRD CANTO The scatter'd Rout return and rally Surround the Place the Knight does sally And is made Pris'ner then they seize The Inchanted Fort by storm release Crowdero and put the Squire in 's place I should have first said Hudibras CANTO III. AY me what perils do inviron The man that meddles with cold Iron What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps Do 〈◊〉 him still with after-claps For though Dame Fortune seem to smile And leer upon him for a while She 'l after shew him in the nick Of all his Glories a Dog-trick This any man may sing or say I' th' Ditty call'd What if a day For Hudibras who thought h 'had won The field as suer as a Gun And having routed the whole Troop With Victory was Cock-a-hoop Thinking h 'had done enough to purchase Thanks giving-day among the Churches Wherein his Mettle and brave Worth Might