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PDFIn soul and body, and instill
All future good, and future ill;
Which, in their dark fatalities lurking, 945
At destin’d periods fall a working;
And break out, like the hidden seeds
Of long diseases, into deeds,
In friendships, enmities, and strife,
And all the emergencies of life. 950
No sooner does he peep into
The world, but he has done his do;
Catch’d all diseases, took all physick
That cures or kills a man that is sick;
Marry’d his punctual dose of wives; 955
Is cuckolded, and breaks or thrives.
There’s but the twinkling of a star
Between a man of peace and war;
A thief and justice, fool and knave,
A huffing officer and a slave; 960
A crafty lawyer and a pick-pocket,
A great philosopher and a blockhead;
A formal preacher and a player,
A learn’d physician and manslayer.
As if men from the stars did suck 965
Old age, diseases, and ill-luck,
Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice,
Trade, travel, women, claps, and dice;
And draw, with the first air they breathe,
Battle and murder, sudden death. 970
Are not these fine commodities
To be imported from the skies,
And vended here amongst the rabble,
For staple goods and warrantable?
In th’ other world to be restor’d?
Quoth Sidrophel, To let you know
You wrong the art, and artists too,
Since arguments are lost on those
That do our principles oppose,
980
I will (although I’ve done’t before)
Demonstrate to your sense once more,
And draw a figure, that shall tell you
What you, perhaps, forget befel you,
By way of horary inspection,
985
Which some account our worst erection.
With that he circles draws, and squares,
With cyphers, astral characters;
Then looks ’em o’er, to und’erstand
’em,
Although set down hob-nab, at random.
990
Quoth he, This scheme of th’ heavens set,
Discovers how in fight you met
At Kingston with a may-pole idol,
And that y’ were bang’d both back and
side well;
And though you overcame the bear,
995
The dogs beat you at Brentford fair;
Where sturdy butchers broke your noddle,
And handled you like a fop-doodle.
Quoth Hudibras, I now perceive
You are no conj’rer, by your leave;
1000
That
And forg’d to cheat such gulls as you.
Not true? quoth he; howe’er you vapour,
I can what I affirm make appear.
Whachum shall justify’t t’ your face,
1005
And prove he was upon the place.
He play’d the Saltinbancho’s part,
Transform’d t’ a Frenchman by my art
He stole your cloak, and pick’d your pocket,
Chows’d and caldes’d ye like a blockhead:
1010
And what you lost I can produce,
If you deny it, here i’ th’ house.
