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The more shame for her Goody-fhip,
To give fo near a Friend the flip.
For Colon chufing out a Stone,
Levell❜d fo right, it thumpt upon
His Manly Paunch, with fuch a Force,
As almost beat him off his Horse.
He loft his Whinyard and the Rein;
But laying faft hold on the Mane,
Preferv'd his Seat: And as a Goofe
In Death contracts his Talons clofe;
So did the Knight, and with one Clw
The Tricker of his Piftol draw.

The Gun went off: And, as it was
Still fatal to ftout Hudibras,

In all his Feats of Arms, when leaft
He dreamt of it, to profper beft
So now he far'd: The Shot let fly
At random, 'mong the Enemy,

Pierc'd Talgol's Gabberdine, and grazing

Upon his Shoulder, in the pafling

Lodg'd in Magnano's brafs Habergeon,

Who ftraight A Surgeon cry'd, A Surgeon :

He

He tumbled down and as he fell,
Did Murther, murther, murther yell.
This ftartled their whole Body fo,
That if the Knight had not let go
His Arms, but been in Warlike Plight,
H' had won (the fecond time) the fight.
As, if the Squire had but faln on,
He had inevitably done:

But he, diverted with the care

Of Hudibras his Hurt, forbare

To prefs th' Advantage of his Fortune,
While danger did the reft difhearten.
For he with Cerdon b'ing engag'd
In close Encounter, they both wag'd
The fight fo well, 'twas hard to fay
Which fide was like to get the day.
And now the bufie Work of Death
Had tir'd them fo, th' agreed to breath,
Preparing to renew the Fight;
When the Disaster of the Knight

And t' other Party, did divert

Their fell intent, and forc'd them

part.

Ralphe

Ralpho preft up to Hudibras,

And Cerdon, where Magnano was;
Each striving to confirm his Party
With ftout Encouragements and hearty.
Quoth Ralpho, Courage, valiant Sir,
And let Revenge and Honour stir
Your Spirits up, once more fall on,
The fhatter'd Foe begins to run:
For if but half fo well you knew
Toufe your Victory as fubdue,
They durft not after fuch a Blow

As you have giv'n them, face us now;
But from fo formidable a Soldier

Had fled like Crows when they fmell Powder.
Thrice have they feen your Sword aloft

Wav'd o'er their Heads, and fled as oft.
But if you let them recollect

Their Spirits, now difmay'd and check'd,
You'll have a harder Game to play
Than yet y' have had, to get the Day.
Thus fpoke the ftout Squire ;
By Hudibras with fmall regard.

but was heard

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His Thoughts were fuller of the Bang
He lately took, than Ralph's Harangue;
To which he answer'd, Cruel Fate

Tells me thy Counsel comes too late.

The clotted Blood within

That from

my Hofe,
my wounded Body flows,

With Mortal Crifis doth portend
My Days to appropinque an End.

I am for Action now unfit,
Either of Fortitude or Wit.
Fortune my Foe begins to frown,
Refolv'd to pull my ftomach down.
I am not apt upon a Wound,
Or trivial Bafting, to defpond:

Yet I'd be loth my Days to curtail,

For if I thought my Wounds not Mortal

Or that we'd time enough as yet

To make an hon'rable Retreat,

'Twere the best Courfe: But if they find
We fly, and leave our Arms behind,
For them to feize on; the Dishonnur,
And Danger too, is fuch, I'll fooner

Stand

Stand to it boldly, and take Quarter,
To let them fee I am no Starter.
In all the Trade of War, no Feat
Is nobler than a brave Retreat.
For those that run away, and fly,
Take place at least o'th' Enemy:

This faid, the Squire with active fpeed
Difmounted from his bonny Steed

To feize the Arms, which by Mifchance
Fell from the bold Knight in a Trance.
These being found out, and restor'd
To Hudibras, their natʼral Lord,

As a Man may fay, with Might and Main
He hafted to get up again.

Thrice he affay'd to mount aloft,
But by his weighty Bum as oft
He was pull'd back, till having found
Th' Advantage of the Rifing Ground,
Thither he led his Warlike Steed,

And, having plac'd him right, with speed
Prepar'd again to scale the Beast.

When Orfin, who had newly dreft

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