From the great vulgar or the small.

And having thus lived to a good old age, admired by all, though personally known to few, he departed this life in the year 1680, and was buried at the charge of his good friend Mr. Longuevil, of the Temple, in the yard belonging to the church of St. Paul’s Covent-garden, at the west-end of the said yard, on the north side, under the wall of the said church, and under that wall which parts the yard from the common highway.  And since he has no monument yet set up for him, give me leave to borrow his epitaph from that of Michael Drayton, the poet, as the author of Mr. Cowley’s has partly done before me: 

And though no monument can claim
To be the treasurer of thy name;
This work, which ne’er will die, shall be
An everlasting monument to thee.

PART I

CANTO I

THE ARGUMENT

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Sir Hudibras his passing worth,
The manner how he sallied forth;
His arms and equipage are shown;
His horse’s virtues, and his own. 
Th’ adventure of the bear and fiddle
Is sung, but breaks off in the middle.
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When civil dudgeon first grew high,
And men fell out they knew not why? 
When hard words, jealousies, and fears,
Set folks together by the ears,
And made them fight, like mad or drunk, 5
For Dame Religion, as for punk;
Whose honesty they all durst swear for,
Though not a man of them knew wherefore: 
When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded
With long-ear’d rout, to battle sounded, 10
And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick,
Was beat with fist, instead of a stick;
Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling,
And out he rode a colonelling. 
A wight he was, whose very sight wou’d 15
Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood;
That never bent his stubborn knee
To any thing but Chivalry;
Nor put up blow, but that which laid
Right worshipful on shoulder-blade; 20
Chief of domestic knights and errant,
Either for cartel or for warrant;
Great on the bench, great in the saddle,
That could as well bind o’er, as swaddle;
Mighty he was at both of these, 25
And styl’d of war, as well as peace. 
(So some rats, of amphibious nature,
Are either for the land or water). 
But here our authors make a doubt
Whether he were more wise, or stout:  30
Some hold the one, and some the other;
But howsoe’er they make a pother,
The diff’rence was so small, his brain
Outweigh’d his rage but half a grain;
Which made some take him for a tool 35
That knaves do work with, call’d a fool,
And offer to lay wagers that