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His knowledge was not far behind
The Knight's but of another kind,
And he another way came by't:

Some call it gifts, and some new light:

He could deep mysteries unriddle,

As easily as thread a needle.

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500

denominated a tailor, from the resemblance to a pair of shears, situate near his hand, as represented in

Fig. 11.

and formed by Hudibras's beard and the light in front of and upon Hudibras's face. The gold lace of 478 is made up of the marks in light on the neck and body of Hudibras; before conceived to be wheals arising from the blows of a cudgel.

500-558. Without stopping to point out all the likenesses referred to by the various passages put in italics from line 500 to 558, I will only observe, that in the letter

For as of vagabonds we say,

That they are ne'er beside their way;
Whate'er men speak by this new light,
Still they are sure to be i' th' right.
'Tis a dark lanthorn of the spirit,

Which none see by but those that bear it;
A light that falls down from on high,
For spiritual trades to cozen by;

An ignis fatuus, that bewitches,

And leads men into pools and ditches,

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R of Ralpho's name, as above explained, there is the likeness of a

parrot,

Fig. 12.

and there are other resemblances to birds towards the top of his head.

The hilt of Hudibras's sword, together with the shadows within which it lies, is like a three or four-legged hourglass, horacle, or oracle; and it may not be amiss to remark, as to the concluding lines of this passage, that the moon (our main subject) does, in fact, give a representation, at second-hand, of Phœbus, the sun; being, in truth, (528) point-blank opposite to it, and so reflecting its image.

To make them dip themselves, and sound
For Christendom, in dirty pond

To dive like wild-fowl for salvation,
And fish to catch regeneration.
This light inspires and plays upon
The nose of saint, like bagpige drone,
And speaks through hollow empty soul,
As through a trunk, or whisp'ring hole,
Such language as no mortal ear.
But spirit al eaves-droppers can hear,
So Phœbus, or some friendly muse,
Into small poets song infuse;
Which they at second hand rehearse

Through reed or bagpipe, verse for verse,

Thus Ralph became infallible,

As three or four legg'd oracle,

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The ancient cup, or modern chair

Spoke truth point-blank, though unaware.

He understood the speech of birds

As well as they themselves do words;
Could tell what subtlest parrots mean,
That speak and think contrary clean;
He'd extract numbers out of matter,
And keep them in a glass, like water;
Of sov❜reign power to make men wise;
For dropt in blear, thick-sighted eyes,

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555

They'd make them see in darkest night,
Like owls, though purblind in the light.

Thus was the accomplish'd squire endu❜d 623 With gifts and knowledge, per'lous shrewd. Never did trusty squire with knight,

Or knight with squire, e'er jump more right.
Their arms and equipage did fit,

As well as virtues, parts, and wit.
Their valours too were of a rate,
And out they sally'd at the gate.

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Few miles on horseback had they jogged,

But fortune unto them turn'd dogged;

For they a sad adventure met,

Of which anon we mean to treat.

But ere we venture to unfold
Achievements so resolv'd and bold,
We should, as learned poets use,
Invoke th' assistance of some muse;
However critics count it sillier
Than jugglers talking too familiar.

We think 'tis no great matter which;
They're all alike; yet we shall pitch
On one that fits our purpose most ;
Whom therefore thus do we accost.

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Thou that with ale, or viler liquors, Didst inspire Withers, Pryn, and Vickars.

645

645. When we consider the subject of the Poem, as

And force them, though it was in spite
Of nature, and their stars, to write;
Who, (as we find in sullen writs,

And cross-grain'd works of modern wits,) 650
With vanity, opinion, want,

The wonder of the ignorant,
The praises of the author, (penn'd
B'himself, or wit insuring friend ;)
The itch of picture in the front,
With bays and wicked rhyme upon't,

(All that is left o' th' forked hill,

To make men scribble without skill ;)
Canst make a poet spite of fate,
And teach all people to translate,
Though out of languages in which
They understand no part of speech :
Assist me but this once, I'mplore,
And I shall trouble thee no more.

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In western clime there is a town,
To those that dwell therein well known.

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coupled with this invocation, it will be readily admitted, I think, that the poet intended to call Withers, Pryn, and Vickars, lunatics; and that the Muse, whose aid he prays, is no other than the Moon herself.—The remaining part of this first Canto will be better understood presently, on entering upon the second,

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