To th' huffing braggart, puft nobility?

No, no; thou which since yesterday hast been
Almost about the whole world, hast thou seen,
O Sun! in all thy journey vanity

Such as swells the bladder of our court? I
Think he which made your waxen garden, and
Transported it from Italy, to stand

With us at London, flouts our courtiers; for
Just such gay painted things, which no sap nor
Taste have in them, ours are!

BEN JONSON.

(1573-1637.)

These two pieces are taken from Jonson's Epigrams. The first of them was exceedingly popular in the poet's own lifetime.

XII. THE NEW CRY.

RE cherries ripe, and strawberries be gone;

FRE

Unto the cries of London I'll add one; Ripe statesmen, ripe: they grow in ev'ry street; At six-and-twenty, ripe. You shall 'em meet, And have him yield no favour, but of state.

Ripe are their ruffs, their cuffs, their beards, their gate, And grave as ripe, like mellow as their faces.

They know the states of Christendom, not the places: Yet have they seen the maps, and bought 'em too, And understand 'em, as most chapmen do.

The counsels, projects, practices they know,

And what each prince doth for intelligence owe,

And unto whom; they are the almanacks

For twelve years yet to come, what each state lacks.

They carry in their pockets Tacitus,

And the Gazetti, or Gallo-Belgicus:

And talk reserv'd, lock'd up, and full of fear;
Nay, ask you how the day goes, in your ear.
Keep a Star-chamber sentence close twelve days:
And whisper what a Proclamation says.
They meet in sixes, and at ev'ry mart,

Are sure to con the catalogue by heart;
Or ev'ry day, some one at Rimee's looks,

Or bills, and there he buys the name of books. They all get Porta, for the sundry ways

To write in cypher, and the several keys, To ope the character. They've found the slight With juice of lemons, onions, piss, to write; To break up seals and close 'em. And they know, If the states make peace, how it will go With England. All forbidden books they get, And of the powder-plot, they will talk yet. At naming the French king, their heads they shake, And at the Pope, and Spain, slight faces make. Or 'gainst the bishops, for the brethren rail

Much like those brethren; thinking to prevail With ignorance on us, as they have done

On them: and therefore do not only shun Others more modest, but contemn us too, That know not so much state, wrong, as they do.

XIII. ON DON SURLY.

DON SURLY to aspire the glorious name

Of a great man, and to be thought the same, Makes serious use of all great trade he knows.

He speaks to men with a rhinocerote's nose,
Which he thinks great; and so reads verses too:
And that is done, as he saw great men do.
He has tympanies of business, in his face,

And can forget men's names, with a great grace.

He will both argue, and discourse in oaths,

Both which are great. And laugh at ill-made clothes; That's greater yet: to cry his own up neat.

He doth, at meals, alone his pheasant eat,

Which is main greatness. And, at his still board,
He drinks to no man: that's, too, like a lord.
He keeps another's wife, which is a spice

Of solemn greatness.

Blaspheme God greatly.

And he dares, at dice,

Or some poor hind beat,

That breathes in his dog's way: and this is great.
Nay more, for greatness' sake, he will be one
May hear my epigrams, but like of none.
Surly, use other arts, these only can

Style thee a most great fool, but no great man.

SAMUEL BUTLER.

(1612-1680.)

XIV. THE CHARACTER OF HUDIBRAS.

This extract is taken from the first canto of Hudibras, and contains the complete portrait of the Knight, Butler's aim in the presentation of this character being to satirize those fanatics and pretenders to religion who flourished during the Commonwealth.

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,
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,

And pulpit, drum ecclesiastic,

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
Intitle him, Mirrour of Knighthood;
That never bow'd his stubborn knee
To any thing but chivalry;

Nor put up blow, but that which laid
Right Worshipful on shoulder-blade:
Chief of domestic knights and errant,
Either for chartel or for warrant:

Great in the bench, great in the saddle,
That could as well bind o'er as swaddle:
Mighty he was at both of these,
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.
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
That knaves do work with, call'd a fool.
For't has been held by many, that
As Montaigne, playing with his cat,
Complains she thought him but an ass,
Much more she would Sir Hudibras,
(For that the name our valiant Knight
To all his challenges did write)
But they're mistaken very much,
'Tis plain enough he was no such.
We grant although he had much wit,

H' was very shy of using it;
As being loth to wear it out,
And therefore bore it not about
Unless on holidays, or so,

As men their best apparel do.

Besides, 't is known he could speak Greek
As naturally as pigs squeak:

That Latin was no more difficile,
Than for a blackbird 't is to whistle.
B'ing rich in both, he never scanted
His bounty unto such as wanted;
But much of either would afford
To many that had not one word.

For Hebrew roots, although they're found
To flourish most in barren ground,
He had such plenty as suffic'd

To make some think him circumcis'd:

And truly so he was, perhaps,
Not as a proselyte, but for claps,

He was in logic a great critic,
Profoundly skill'd in analytic;
He could distinguish, and divide

A hair 'twixt south and south west side;
On either which he could dispute,
Confute, change hands, and still confute;
He'd undertake to prove by force
Of argument, a man's no horse;
He'd prove a buzzard is no fowl,
And that a lord may be an owl;

A calf an alderman, a goose a justice,
And rooks committee-men and trustees,
He'd run in debt by disputation,

And pay with ratiocination:

All this by syllogism, true

In mood and figure, he would do.