Which ere he could atchieve, his fconce
The leg encounter'd twice and once;
And now 'twas rais'd to fmite agen,
When Ralpho thruft himself between;
He took the blow upon his arm,
To fhield the Knight from further harm,
And, joining wrath with force, bestow'd
On th' wooden member fuch a load,
That down it fell, and with it bore
Crowdero, whom it propp'd before.
To him the Squire right nimbly run,.
And fetting conquering foot upon
His trunk, thus fpoke: What defperate frenzy
Made thee (thou whelp of Sin) to fancy
Thyfelf, and all that coward rabble,
Tencounter us in battle able?
How durft th', I fay, oppofe thy Curship
'Gainst arms, authority, and worship,
And Hudibras or me provoke,
Though all thy limbs were heart of oak,
And th' other half of thee as good
To bear out blows as that of wood?
Could not the whipping-poft prevail,
With all its rhetoric, nor the jail,
Ver. 944.] The fkin encounter`d, &c. In the two first editions.
Ver. 947.] on fide and arm. Two editions of 1663.
Ver. 948.] To field the Knight entranc'd from harm.. In the two first editions.
He tweak'd his nofe, with gentle thump
Knock'd on his breast, as if 't had been
To raise the spirits lodg'd within:
They, waken'd with the noise, did fly
From inward room to window eye,
And gently opening lid, the cafement,
Look'd out, but yet with fome amazement.
This gladded Ralpho much to fee,
Who thus bespoke the Knight. Quoth he,
Tweaking his nofe, You are, great Sir,
A felf-denying conqueror;
As high, victorious, and great,
As e'er fought for the Churches yet,
If you will give yourself but leave
To make out what y' already have;
That's victory. The foe, for dread
Of your nine-worthinefs, is fled,
All fave Crowdero, for whofe fake
You did th' efpous'd Cause undertake
And he lies prifoner at your feet,
To be difpos'd as you think meet,.
Either for life, or death, or fale,
The gallows, or perpetual jail;
For one wink of your powerful eye
Muft fentence him to live or die.
His Fiddle is your proper purchase,
Won in the service of the Churches;
And by your doom must be allow'd
To be, or be no more, a Crowd:
For though fuccefs did not confer
Just title on the conqueror ;
Though difpenfations were not strong
Conclufions whether right or wrong;
Although Out-goings did confirm,
And Owning were but a meer term;
Yet as the wicked have no right
To th' creature, though ufurp'd by might,
The property is in the faint,
From whom they' injuriously detain 't;
Of him they hold their luxuries,
Their dogs, their horfes, whores, and dice,
Their riots, revels, masks, delights,
Pimps, buffoons, fiddlers, parafites;
All which the faints have title to,
And ought t' enjoy, if they 'ad their due.
What we take from them is no more
Than what was ours by right before
Ver. 1009.] It was a principle maintained by the Rebels of thofe days, that dominion is founded on grace, and therefore if a man wanted grace (in their opinion) if he was not a faint or a godly man, he had no right to any lands, goods, or chattels. The Saints, as the Squire fays, had a right to all, and might take it, wherever they had a power to do it.
For we are their true landlords ftill,
And they our tenants but at will.
At this the Knight began to rouze,
And by degrees grow valourous :
He ftar'd about, and feeing none
Of all his foes remain but one,
Than from your hand to have the honour
Of his deftruction; I that am
A Nothingnefs in deed and name,
Did fcorn to hurt his forfeit carcafe,
Or ill entreat his Fiddle or cafe :
Will you, great Sir, that glory blot
In cold blood, which you gain'd in hot?
Will you employ your conquering fword
To break a Fiddle, and your word?
For though I fought and overcame,
And quarter gave, 'twas in your name:
For great commanders always own
What 's profperous by the soldier done.
To fave, where you have power to kill,
Argues your power above
your will;
And that your will and power have less
Than both might have of felfishness.
This power which, now alive, with dread
He trembles at, if he were dead
Would no more keep the flave in awe,
Than 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 accrue,
Or honour from his death, to you,
'Twere policy and honour too
To do as you refolv'd to do:
But, Sir, 'twould wrong your valour much,
Th' honour can but on one fide light,
As worship did, when y' were dubb'd Knight;
Wherefore I think it better far
To keep him prifoner of war,
And let him faft in bonds abide,
At court of juftice to be try'd;
Where if h' appear fo bold or crafty,
There may be danger in his fafety
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