Night is the sabbath of mankind,
To rest the body and the mind,
Which now thou art deny'd to keep,
And cure thy labour'd corpse with sleep."
The knight, who heard the words explain'd
As meant to him this reprimand,
Because the character did hit
Point-blank upon his case so fit,
Believ'd it was some drolling sprite
That staid upon the guard that night,
And one of those he 'ad seen, and felt
The drubs he had so freely dealt;
When, after a short pause and groan,
The doleful spirit thus went on;

"This 'tis t' engage with dogs and bears
Pell-mell together by the ears,
And, after painful bangs and knocks,
To lie in limbo in the stocks,
And from the pinnacle of glory
Fall headlong into purgatory:"

Thought he, "This Devil 's full of malice,
That on my late disasters rallies."
"Condemn'd to whipping, but declin'd it,
By being more heroic-minded;
And at a riding handled worse,
With treats more slovenly and coarse;
Engag'd with fiends in stubborn wars,
And hot disputes with conjurers;

And, when thou 'adst bravely won the day,
Wast fain to steal thyself away."

"I see," thought he, "this shameless elf
Would fain steal me, too, from myself,
That impudently dares to own
What I have suffer'd for and done."
"And now, but venturing to betray,
Hast met with vengeance the same way."
Thought he, "How does the Devil know
What 't was that I design'd to do?
His office of intelligence,

His oracles, are ceas'd long since;
And he knows nothing of the saints,

But what some treacherous spy acquaints.
This is some pettifogging fiend,

Some under door-keeper's friend's friend,
That undertakes to understand,
And juggles at the second hand,
And now would pass for spirit Po,

And all men's dark concerns foreknow.
I think I need not fear him for 't;
These rallying Devils do no hurt."
With that he rous'd his drooping heart,
And hastily cry'd out, "What art?"-
"A wretch," quoth he, "whom want of grace
Has brought to this unhappy place."

"I do believe thee," quoth the knight;
"Thus far I'm sure thou 'rt in the right:
And know what 'tis that troubles thee,
Better than thou hast guess'd of me.
Thou art some paltry, blackguard sprite,
Condemn'd to drudgery in the night;
Thou hast no work to do in th' house,
Nor halfpenny to drop in shoes;
Without the raising of which sum
You dare not be so troublesome
To pinch the slatterns black and blue,
For leaving you their work to do.
This is your business, good Pug-Robin,
And your diversion dull dry-bobbing,
T' entice fanatics in the dirt,

And wash them clean in ditches for 't;

Of which conceit you are so proud,
At every jest you laugh aloud,
As now you would have done by me,
But that I barr'd your raillery."

"Sir," quoth the voice, "ye 're no such sophi, As you would have the world judge of ye. If you design to weigh our talents

I' th' standard of your own false balance,
Or think it possible to know

Us ghosts, as well as we do you;
We, who have been the everlasting
Companions of your drubs and basting,
And never left you in contest
With male or female, man or beast;
But prov'd as true t' ye, and entire,
In all adventures, as your squire."

Quoth he, "That may be said as true
By th' idlest pug of all your crew:
For none could have betray'd us worse
Than those allies of ours and yours.
But I have sent him for a token
To your low-country Hogen-Mogen,
To whose infernal shores I hope
He'll swing like skippers in a rope:
And, if ye 'ave been more just to me
(As I am apt to think) than he,
I am afraid it is as true,
What th' ill-affected say of you-
Ye 'ave 'spous'd the covenant and cause,
By holding up your cloven paws."

"Sir," quoth the voice, "'tis true, I grant,
We made, and took, the covenant;
But that no more concerns the cause,
Than other perjuries do the laws,
Which, when they 're prov'd in open court,
Wear wooden peccadillo's for 't:

And that's the reason covenanters
Hold up their hands, like rogues at bars."
"I see," quoth Hudibras, "from whence
These scandals of the saints commence,
That are but natural effects

Of Satan's malice, and his sects',
Those spider-saints, that hang by threads
Spun out o' th' entrails of their heads."

Sir," quoth the voice, "that may as true And properly be said of you,

Whose talents may compare with either,
Or both the other put together:
For all the independents do,
Is only what you forc'd them to;
You, who are not content alone
With tricks to put the Devil down,
But must have armies rais'd to back
The gospel-work you undertake:
As if artillery and edge-tools,
Were th' only engines to save souls:
While he, poor Devil, has no power
By force to run down and devour;
Has ne'er a classis, cannot sentence
To stools, or poundage of repentance;
Is ty'd up only to design

T'entice, and tempt, and undermine:
In which you all his arts outdo,
And prove yourselves his betters too.
Hence 'tis possessions do less evil
Than mere temptations of the Devil,
Which all the horrid'st actions done
Are charg'd in courts of law upon;
Because, unless they help the elf,
He can do little of himself;

And therefore, where he 's best possest,
Acts most against his interest;
Surprises none, but those who 'ave priests
To turn him out, and exorcists,
Supply'd with spiritual provision,
And magazines of ammunition;
With crosses, relics, crucifixes,
Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes;
The tools of working our salvation
By mere mechanic operation:
With holy water, like a sluice,
To overflow all avenues:

But those, who 're utterly unarm'd,
T'oppose his entrance if he storm'd,
He never offers to surprise,
Although his falsest enemies;
'But is content to be their drudge,
And on their errands glad to trudge:
For where are all your forfeitures
Intrusted in safe hands, but ours?
Who are but gaolers of the holes

And dungeons where you clap up souls;
Like under-keepers, turn the keys,
T' your mittimus anathemas,
And never boggle to restore
The members you deliver o'er,
Upon demand, with fairer justice,
Than all your covenanting trustees;
Unless, to punish them the worse,
You put them in the secular powers,
And pass their souls, as some demise
The same estate in mortgage twice:
When to a legal utlegation
You turn your excommunication,
And, for a groat unpaid that 's due,
Distrain on soul and body too."

Thought he, ""Tis no mean part of civil
State-prudence to cajole the Devil,
And not to handle him too rough,
When he 'as us in his cloven hoof.-

""Tis true," quoth he, "that intercourse
Has pass'd between your friends and ours,
That, as you trust us, in our way,
To raise your members, and to lay,
We send you others of our own,
Denounc'd to hang themselves, or drown,
Or, frighted with our oratory,

To leap down headlong many a story;
Have us'd all means to propagate
Your mighty interests of state,

Laid out our spiritual gifts to further

Your great designs of rage and murther:

For if the saints are nam'd from blood,
We only 'ave made that title good;
And, if it were but in our power,

We should not scruple to do more,
And not be half a soul behind

Of all dissenters of mankind.

"Right," quoth the voice, "and, as I scorn

To be ungrateful, in return

Of all those kind good offices,

I'll free you out of this distress,

And set you down in safety, where

It is no time to tell you here.

The cock crows, and the morn grows on,
When 'tis decreed I must be gone;
And, if I leave you here till day,
You'll find it hard to get away."
With that the spirit grop'd about
To find th' enchanted hero out,

And try'd with haste to lift him up,
But found his forlorn hope, his crup,
Unserviceable with kicks and blows,
Receiv'd from harden'd-hearted foes.
He thought to drag him by the heels,
Like Gresham-carts, with legs for wheels;
But Fear, that soonest cures those sores,
In danger of relapse to worse,
Came in t' assist him with its aid,
And up his sinking vessel weigh'd.
No sooner was he fit to trudge,
But both made ready to dislodge;
The spirit hors'd him, like a sack,
Upon the vehicle his back,

And bore him headlong into th' hall,
With some few rubs against the wall;
Where, finding out the postern lock'd,
And th' avenues as strongly block'd,
H' attack'd the window, storm'd the glass,
And in a moment gain'd the pass;

Through which he dragg'd the worsted soldier's
Fore-quarters out by th' head and shoulders,
And cautiously began to scout

To find their fellow cattle out;
Nor was it half a minute's quest,
Ere he retriev'd the champion's beast,
Ty'd to a pale, instead of rack,
But ne'er a saddle on his back,
Nor pistols at the saddle-bow,
Convey'd away, the Lord knows how.
He thought it was no time to stay,
And let the night too steal away;
But, in a trice, advanc'd the knight
Upon the bare ridge, bolt upright,
And, groping out for Ralpho's jade,
He found the saddle, too, was stray'd,
And in the place a lump of soap,
On which he speedily leap'd up;
And, turning to the gate the rein,
He kick'd and cudgel'd on amain;
While Hudibras, with equal haste,
On both sides laid about as fast,
And spurr'd, as jockies use, to break,
Or padders to secure, a neck:
Where let us leave them for a time,
And to their churches turn our rhyme;
To hold forth their declining state,
Which now come near an even rate.

PART III. CANTO II.

THE ARGUMENT.

The saints engage in fierce contests
About their carnal interests,
To share their sacrilegious preys,
According to their rates of grace:
Their various frenzies to reform,
When Cromwell left them in a storm;
Till, in th' effige of rumps, the rabble
Burn all their grandees of the cabal.

THE learned write, an insect breeze Is but a mongrel prince of bees, That falls before a storm on cows, And stings the founders of his house,

From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed:

So, ere the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after every swarm its own:
For as the Persian magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way,
So Presbyter begot the other

Upon the Good Old Cause, his mother,
Then bore them, like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same;
And yet no natural tie of blood,
Nor interest for the common good,
Could, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard:
For when they thriv'd they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd;
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they 've none;
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack

Of zeal and plunder, to grow slack;
The cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to be out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' king's revenue, and the church's,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the cause,
To cross the cudgels to the laws,

That what by breaking them they 'ad gain'd,
By their support might be maintain'd;
Like thieves, that in a hemp-plot ie,
Secur'd against the Hue-and-cry;
For Presbyter and Independent
Were now turn'd plaintiff and defendant;
Laid out their apostolic functions
On carnal orders and injunctions;
And all their precious gifts and graces
On outlawries and Scire facias;
At Michael's term had many trial,
Worse than the Dragon and St. Michael,
Where thousands fell, in shape of fees,
Into the bottomless abyss.

For when, like brethren, and like friends,
They came to share their dividends,
And every partner to possess
His church and state joint-purchases,
In which the ablest saint, and best,
Was nam'd in trust by all the rest
To pay their money, and, instead
Of every brother, pass the deed,
He straight converted all his gifts
To pious frauds and holy shifts,
And settled all the other shares
Upon his outward man and 's heirs;
Held all they claim'd as forfeit lands
Deliver'd up into his hands,
And pass'd upon his conscience
By pre-entail of Providence;
Impeach'd the rest for reprobates,
That had no titles to estates,
But, by their spiritual attaints,
Degraded from the right of saints.

This being reveal'd, they now begun
With law and conscience to fall on,
And laid about as hot and brain-sick
As th' Utter barrister of Swanswick';
Engag'd with money-bags, as bold
As men with sand-bags did of old,
That brought the lawyers in more fees
Than all unsanctify'd trustees;
Till he who had no more to show
I' th' case, receiv'd the overthrow;
Or, both sides having had the worst,
They parted as they met at first.
Poor presbyter was now reduc'd,
Secluded, and cashier'd, and chous'd!
Turn'd out, and excommunicate
From all affairs of church and state,
Reform'd to a reformado saint,
And glad to turn itinerant,

To stroll and teach from town to town,
And those he had taught up teach down,
And make those uses serve again
Against the new-enlighten'd men,
As fit as when at first they were
Reveal'd against the cavalier;
Damn anabaptist and fanatic
As pat as popish and prelatic;
And with as little variation,
To serve for any sect i' th' nation.
The Good Old Cause, which some believe
To be the Devil that tempted Eve
With knowledge, and does still invite
The world to mischief with new light,
Had store of money in her purse,
When he took her for better or worse:
But now was grown deform'd and poor,
And fit to be turn'd out of door.

The independents (whose first station
Was in the rear of reformation,
A mongrel kind of church-dragoons,
That serv'd for horse and foot at once,
And in the saddle of one steed
The Saracen and Christian rid,
Were free of every spiritual order,

To preach, and fight, and pray, and murder)
No sooner got the start, to lurch
Both disciplines, of war and church,
And providence enough to run
The chief commanders of them down,
But carry'd on the war against
The common enemy o' th' saints,
And in a while prevail'd so far,
To win of them the game of war,
And be at liberty once more
T' attack themselves as they 'ad before.
For now there was no foe in arms
T'unite their factions with alarms,
But all reduc'd and overcome,

Except their worst themselves at home,
Who 'ad compass'd all they pray'd, and swore,
And fought, and preach'd, and plunder'd for,
Subdued the nation, church, and state,
And all things but their laws and hate;
But when they came to treat and transact,
And share the spoil of all they 'ad ransackt,
To botch up what they 'ad torn and rent,
Religion and the government,
They met no sooner, but prepar'd
To pull down all the war had spar'd;

W. Prynne, a voluminous writer.

Agreed in nothing, but t' abolish,
Subvert, extirpate, and demolish:
For knaves and fools being near of kin,
As Dutch boors are t' a sooterkin,
Both parties join'd to do their best
To damn the public interest,
And herded only in consults,
To put by one another's bolts;
Tout-cant the Babylonian labourers,
At all their dialects of jabberers,
And tug at both ends of the saw,
To tear down government and law.
For as two cheats that play one game,
Are both defeated of their aim,
So those who play a game of state,
And only cavil in debate,

Although there 's nothing lost nor won,
The public business is undone;
Which still the longer 'tis in doing,
Becomes the surer way to ruin.

This, when the royalists perceiv'd,
(Who to their faith as firmly cleav'd,
And own'd the right they had paid down
So dearly for, the church and crown)
Th' united constanter, and sided
The more, the more their foes divided;
For though outnumber'd, overthrown,
And by the fate of war run down,
Their duty never was defeated,

Nor from their oaths and faith retreated;
For loyalty is still the same,
Whether it win or lose the game;
True as the dial to the Sun,
Although it be not shin'd upon.
But when these brethren in evil,
Their adversaries, and the Devil,
Began once more to show them play,
And hopes, at least, to have a day,
They rally'd in parades of woods,
And unfrequented solitudes;
Conven'd at midnight in outhouses,
T appoint new-rising rendezvouses,
And, with a pertinacy unmatch'd,
For new recruits of danger watch'd.
No sooner was one blow diverted,
But up another party started!
And, as if Nature, too, in haste
To furnish out supplies as fast,
Before her time had turn'd destruction
Ta new and numerous production;
No sooner those were overcome,
But up rose others in their room,
That, like the Christian faith, increast
The more, the more they were supprest;
Whom neither chains, nor transportation,
Proscription, sale, or confiscation,
Nor all the desperate events
Of former try'd experiments,
Nor wounds, could terrify, nor mangling,
To leave off loyalty and dangling,
Nor Death (with all his bones) affright
From venturing to maintain the right,
From staking life and fortune down
'Gainst all together, for the crown;
But kept the title of their cause
From forfeiture, like claims in laws;
And prov'd no prosperous usurpation
Can ever settle on the nation;

Until, in spite of force and treason,
They put their loyalty in possession;
And, by their constancy and faith,
Destroy'd the mighty men of Gath.

Toss'd in a furious hurricane,
Did Oliver give up his reign,
And was believ'd, as well by saints
As mortal men and miscreants,
To founder in the Stygian ferry,
Until he was retriev'd by Sterry;
Who, in a false erroneous dream,
Mistook the New Jerusalem
Profanely for th' apocryphal
False Heaven at the end o' th' hall;
Whither it was decreed by Fate
His precious relics to translate:
So Romulus was seen before
By as orthodox a senator,
From whose divine illumination
He stole the pagan revelation.

Next him his son and heir apparent
Succeeded, though a lame vicegerent,
Who first laid by the parliament,

The only crutch on which he leant,
And then sunk underneath the state,
That rode him above horseman's weight.

And now the saints began their reign, For which they 'ad yearn'd so long in vain, And felt such bowel hankerings,

To see an empire all of kings,
Deliver'd from th' Egyptian awe
Of justice, government, and law,
And free t' erect what spiritual cantons
Should be reveal'd or gospel Hans-towns,
To edify upon the ruins

Of John of Leyden's old outgoings,
Who, for a weathercock hung up
Upon their mother-church's top,
Was made a type by Providence,
Of all their revelations since,
And now fulfill'd by his successors,
Who equally mistook their measures:
For, when they came to shape the model,
Not one could fit another's noddle;
But found their light and gifts more wide
From fadging, than th' unsanctify'd;
While every individual brother
Strove hand to fist against another,
And still the maddest, and most crackt,
Were found the busiest to transact;
For, though most hands dispatch apace
And make light work, (the proverb says)
Yet many different intellects

Are found t' have contrary effects;
And many heads t' obstruct intrigues,
As slowest insects have most legs.

Some were for setting up a king,
But all the rest for no such thing,
Unless king Jesus: others tamper'd
For Fleetwood, Desborough and Lambert:
Some for the rump; and some, more crafty,
For agitators, and the safety:

Some for the gospel, and massacres
Of spiritual affidavit-makers,
That swore to any human regence
Oaths of suprem'cy and allegiance;
Yea, though the ablest swearing saint,
That vouch'd the bulls o' th' covenant:

Others for pulling down th' high places
Of synods and provincial classes,
That us'd to make such hostile inroads
Upon the saints, like bloody Nimrods:
Some for fulfilling prophecies,
And th' extirpation of th' excise;
And some against th' Egyptian bondage
Of holy-days, and paying poundage:
Some for the cutting down of groves,
And rectifying bakers' loaves;
And some for finding out expedients
Against the slavery of obedience:
Some were for gospel ministers,
And some for red-coat seculars,

As men most fit t' hold, forth the word,
And wield the one and th' other sword:
Some were for carrying on the work
Against the pope, and some the Turk:
Some for engaging to suppress
The camisado of surplices,

That gifts and dispensations hinder'd,

And turn'd to th' outward man the inward;
More proper for the cloudy night
Of popery than gospel light:
Others were for abolishing
That tool of matrimony, a ring,

With which th' unsanctify'd bridegroom
Is marry'd only to a thumb;
(As wise as ringing of a pig,
That us'd to break up ground, and dig)
The bride to nothing but her will,
That nulls her after-marriage still:
Some were for th' utter extirpation
Of linsey-woolsey in the nation;
And some against all idolizing

The cross in shop-books, or baptizing:
Others, to make all things recant
The Christian or surname of Saint,

And force all churches, streets, and towns,
The holy title to renounce :
Some 'gainst a third estate of souls,
And bringing down the price of coals:
Some for abolishing black-pudding,
And eating nothing with the blood in;
To abrogate them roots and branches;
While others were for eating haunches
Of warriors, and, now and then,
The flesh of kings and mighty men:
And some for breaking of their bones
With rods of iron, by secret ones;
For thrashing mountains, and with spells
For hallowing carriers' packs and bells;
Things that the legend never heard of,
But made the wicked sore afeard of.
The quacks of government (who sate
At th' unregarded helm of state,
And understood this wild confusion
Of fatal madness and delusion
Must, sooner than a prodigy,
Portend destruction to be nigh)
Consider'd timely how t' withdraw,
And save their windpipes from the law;
For one rencounter at the bar

Was worse than all they 'ad 'scap'd in war;
And therefore met in consultation

To cant and quack upon the nation;
Not for the sickly patient's sake,
Nor what to give, but what to take;

To feel the purses of their fees,
More wise than fumbling arteries;
Prolong the snuff of life in pain,
And from the grave recover-Gain.

'Mong these there was a politician 2
With more heads than a beast in vision,
And more intrigues in every one
Than all the whores of Babylon;
So politic, as if one eye
Upon the other were a spy,
That, to trepan the one to think
The other blind, both strove to blink;
And in his dark pragmatic way

As busy as a child at play.

He 'ad seen three governments run down,
And had a hand in every one;
Was for them, and against them all,
But barbarous when they came to fall:
For, by trepanning th' old to ruin,
He made his interest with the new one;
Play'd true and faithful, though against
His conscience, and was still advanc'd:
For, by the witchcraft of rebellion
Transform'd t'a feeble state-camelion,
By giving aim from side to side,
He never fail'd to save his tide,
But got the start of every state,
And, at a change, ne'er came too late;
Could turn his word, and oath, and faith,
As many ways as in a lath;

By turning wriggle, like a screw,
Int' highest trust, and out, for new:
For when he 'ad happily incurr'd,
Instead of hemp, to be preferr'd,
And pass'd upon a government,
He play'd his trick, and out he went ;
But being out, and out of hopes
To mount his ladder (more) of ropes,
Would strive to raise himself upon
The public ruin, and his own;

So little did he understand

The desperate feats he took in hand,
For, when he 'ad got himself a name

For frauds and tricks, he spoil'd his game;
Had fore'd his neck into a noose,
To show his play at fast and loose;
And, when he chanc'd t' escape, mistook,
For art and subtlety, his luck.
So right his judgment was cut fit,
And made a tally to his wit.
And both together most profound
At deeds of darkness under ground;
As th' earth is easiest undermin'd,
By vermin impotent and blind.

By all these arts, and many more
He 'ad practis'd long and much before,
Our state-artificer foresaw

Which way the world began to draw:
For, as old sinners have all points
O' th' compass in their bones and joints,
Can by their pangs and aches find
All turns and changes of the wind,
And, better than by Napier's bones,
Feel in their own the age of moons:

This was sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, who complied with every change in those times.