Wou’d often do to set him down. 440
We shall not need to say what lack
Of leather was upon his back;
For that was hidden under pad,
And breech of Knight, gall’d full as bad. 
His strutting ribs on both sides show’d 445
Like furrows he himself had plow’d;
For underneath the skirt of pannel,
’Twixt ev’ry two there was a channel
His draggling tail hung in the dirt,
Which on his rider he wou’d flurt, 450
Still as his tender side he prick’d,
With arm’d heel, or with unarm’d kick’d: 
For Hudibras wore but one spur;
As wisely knowing, cou’d he stir
To active trot one side of’s horse, 455
The other wou’d not hang an arse.

A squire he had, whose name was Ralph,
That in th’ adventure went his half: 
Though writers, for more stately tone,
Do call him Ralpho; ’tis all one; 460
And when we can with metre safe,
We’ll call him so; if not, plain Ralph: 
(For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which like ships they steer their courses.)
An equal stock of wit and valour 465
He had laid in; by birth a taylor. 
The mighty Tyrian Queen, that gain’d
With subtle shreds a tract of land,
Did leave it with a castle fair
To his great ancestor, her heir. 470
From him descended cross-legg’d Knights,
Fam’d for their faith, and warlike fights
Against the bloody cannibal,
Whom they destroy’d both great and small. 
This sturdy Squire, he had, as well 475
As the bold Trojan Knight, seen Hell;
Not with a counterfeited pass
Of golden bough, but true gold-lace. 
His knowledge was not far behind
The Knight’s, but of another kind, 480
And he another way came by ’t: 
Some call it gifts, and some new-light;
A liberal art, that costs no pains
Of study, industry, or brains. 
His wit was sent him for a token, 485
But in the carriage crack’d and broken. 
Like commendation nine-pence crook’d,
With —­ To and from my love —­ it look’d. 
He ne’er consider’d it, as loth
To look a gift-horse in the mouth; 490
And very wisely wou’d lay forth
No more upon it than ’twas worth. 
But as he got it freely, so
He spent it frank and freely too. 
For Saints themselves will sometimes be 495
Of gifts, that cost them nothing, free. 
By means of this, with hem and cough,
Prolongers to enlighten’d stuff,
He cou’d deep mysteries unriddle
As easily as thread a needle. 500
For as of vagabonds we say,
That they are ne’er beside their way;
Whate’er men speak by this New Light,