But fcarce had he a furlong on
This refolute adventure gone,

When he encounter'd with that crew 240 Whom Hudibras did late fubdue.

Honour, revenge, contempt, and shame, Did equally their breasts inflame. 'Mong thefe the fierce Magnano was, And Talgol, foe to Hudibras: 245 Cerdon and Colon, warriors ftout, And refolute, as ever fought: Whom furious Orfin thus bespoke :. Shall we, quoth he, thus bafely brook The vile affront that paultry afs 250 And feeble Scoundrel, Hudibras, With that more paultry ragamuffin, Ralpho, with vapouring and huffing, Have put upon us, like tame cattle, As if they routed us in battle? 255 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, Which now I'm like to undergo; 260 For whether thofe fell wounds, or no, 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. 265 But if I can but find him out

That caus'd it (as I fhall no doubt, Where-e'er th' in hugger-mugger lurk) I'll make thera rue their handy-work; And with that they had rather dar'd, 270 To pull the devil by the beard.

Quoth Cerdon, noble Orfin, th' haft
Great reason to do as thou say'st,
And fo has ev'ry body here,

As well as thou haft, or thy bear.
275 Others may do as they fee good;
But if this twig be made of wood
That will hold tack, I'll make the fur
Fly 'bout the ears of that old cur;
And t' other mungrel vermin, Ralph,
280 That brav'd us all in his behalf.

Thy bear is fafe, and out of peril,

Though lugg'd indeed, and wounded very ill :
Myfelf and Trulla made a shift

To help him out at a dead lift;

285 And having brought him bravely off,
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
290 Their forces in the fame design:
And forthwith put themselves in fearch
Of Hudibras upon their march.
Where leave we them a while to tell
What the victorious knight befel:
295 For fuch, Crowdéro being fast

In dungeon fhut, we left him laft.. Triumphant laurels feem'd to grow No where fo green as on his brow: Laden with which, as well as tir'd 300 With conqu'ring toil, he now retir'd Unto a neighb'ring caftle by,

To reft his body, and apply

Fit med'cines to each glorious bruise
He got in fight, reds, blacks, and blues,

305 To mollify th' uneafy pang
Of ev'ry honourable bang,

Which be❜ng by skilful midwife drest,
He laid him down to take his rest.

But all in vain. H'ad got a hurt
310. On th' infide, of a deadlier fort,
By Cupid made, who took his ftand
Upon a widow's jointure land,
(For he, in all his am'rous battles,

No 'dvantage finds like goods and chattles)
315 Drew home his bow, and, aiming right,
Let fly an arrow at the knight;
The shaft againft a rib did glance,

And gall'd him in the purtenance.
But time had fomewhat 'fwag'd his pain,
320 After he found his fuit in vain.

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;
325 Till purging comfits and ants eggs
Had almoft 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,

330 Had not fo hard a hearted one.

328 That old, etc.] Pygmalion, king of Tyre, was the fon of Margenus or Mechres, whom he fucceeded, and lived 56 years, whereof he reigned 47. Dido, his fifter, was to have governed with him, but it was pretended the subjects thought it not convenient: fhe married Sichaeus, who was the king's uncle, and very rich; wherefore he put him to death; and Dido foon after departed the kingdom. Poets fay, Pygmalion was punished for the hatred he bore to women, with the love he had to a ftatue.

She had a thousand jadifh tricks,

Worfe than a mule that flings and kicks;

'Mong which one cross-grain'd freak she had, As infolent as strange 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! So cowards never use their might, 340 But against fuch as will not fight. So fome diseases have been found Only to feize upon the found.

He, that gets her by heart, must say her
The back way, like a witches prayer.
345 Mean while the knight had no small task,
To compass what he durst not ask,

He loves, but dares not make the motion;
Her ignorance is his devotion :

Like caitiff vile, that for misdeed

350 Rides with his face to rump of steed :
Or rowing fcull, he's fain to love,
Look one way, and another move.
Or like a tumbler that does play
His game, and look another way,
355 Until he feize upon the coney:
Juft fo does he by matrimony,
But all in vain; her fubtle fnout
Did quickly wind his meaning out;
Which fhe return'd with too much scorn, -

360 To be by man of honour born :

Yet much he bore until the distress

He suffer'd from his fpightful mistress,

Did ftir his stomach, and the pain He had endur'd-from her disdain, 365 Turn'd to regret, fo refolute,

That he refolv'd to wave the fuit,
And either to renounce her quite,
Or for a while play leaft in fight.
This refolution b'ing put on,

370 He kept fome months, and more had done,
But being brought fo nigh by fate,
The victory he atchiev'd fo late
Did fet his thoughts agog, and ope
A door to discontinu'd hope,

375 That feem'd to promife he might win
His dame too, now his hand was in ;
And that his valour, and the honour
He'd newly gain'd, might work upon her:
These reasons made his mouth to water
380 With am'rous longings to be at her.

Quoth he, unto himself, who knows
But this brave conquest o'er my foes
May reach her heart, and make that stoop,
As I but now have forc'd the troop?

385 If nothing can oppugn love,

And virtue invious ways can prove,
What may not he confide to do
That brings both love and virtue too?
But thou bring'ft valour too and wit,
390 Two things that seldom fail to hit.
Valour's a moufe-trap, wit a gin,
Which women oft are taken in.
Then, Hudibras, why fhould'ft thou fear
To be, that art a conqueror?