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And tho' his countrymen, the Huns,

Did stew their meat between their bums

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And th' horses backs o'er which they straddle, And ev'ry man ate up his saddle,

He was not half so nice as they,
But ate it raw when't came in's way.
He had trac'd countries far and near,
More than Le Blanc the traveller;'
Who writes, he spous'd in India,
Of noble house, a lady gay,

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Live

And got on her a race of worthies
As stout as any upon earth is.
Full many a fight for him between
Talgol and Orsin oft had been;

Each striving to obtain the crown

Of a sav'd citizen: the one

To guard his Bear, the other fought

To aid his dog; both made more stout,

By several spurs of neighbourhood,

Church, fellow-membership, and blood;

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But Talgol, mortal foe to cows,

Never got ought of him but blows;
Blows, hard and heavy, such as he.

Had lent, repaid with usury,

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Yet Talgol was of courage stout, And vanquish'd oft'ner than he fought; Inur'd to labour, sweat, and toil,

And, like a champion, shone with oil,
Right many a widow his keen blade,
And many fatherless, had made.
He many a boar and huge dun cow,
Did, like another Guy, o'erthrow;
But Guy with him in fight compar'd,
Had like the boar and dun cow far'd.
With greater troops of sheep h' had fought,
Than Ajax, or bold Don Quixote;

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And many a serpent of fell kind,

With wings before, and stings behind,

Subdu'd, as poets say, long agone,

Bold Sir George, St. George, did the dragon.

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For he was of that noble. trade, !, !

That demi-gods and heroes: made,

Slaughter and knocking on the head, ma-
The trade on which they all were bred,
And is, like others, glorious when
'Tis great and large, but base if mean.
The former rides in triumph for it,

The latter in a two-wheel'd chariot,
For daring to profane a thing,

So sacred with vile bungling.

Next these the brave Magnano came, Magnano! great in martial fame.

Yet when with Orsin he wag'd fight,
'Tis sung he got but little by't.

Yet he was fierce as forest boar,
Whose spoils upon his back he wore.
As thick as Ajax' seven-fold shield,
Which o'er his brazen arms he held;

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But brass was feeble to resist,

The fury of his armed fist:

Nor could the hardest iron hold out

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Against his blows, but they would through't.'

In magic he was deeply read,

As he that made the brazen head!
Profoundly skill'd in the black art,

As English Merlin for his heart;

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But far more skilful in the spheres,

Than he was at the sieve and shears.
He could transform himself in colour,

As like the devil as a collier;

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As like as hypocrites in show,

Are to true saints, or crow to crow.

Of warlike engines he was author,
Devis'd for quick dispatch of slaughter;
The cannon, blunderbuss, and saker,
He was th' inventor of and maker:
The trumpet and the kettle-drum,
Did both from his invention come.
He was the first that e'er did teach,

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To make, and how to stop a breach.

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A lance he bore with iron pike,

Th' one half would thrust, the other strike;

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Through perils both of wind and limb,
Through thick and thin she follow'd him,

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In ev'ry adventure h' undertook,
And never him or it forsook.

At breach of wall, or hedge surprise,
She shar'd i' th' hazard and the prize;
At beating quarters up, or forage,
Behav'd herself with matchless courage,

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Their naked tools in open field

As stout Armida, bold Thalestris,

And she that would have been the mistress

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