V. 609-10. The sun and moon, by her bright eyes Eclips'd and darken'd in the skies.] Shakespeare, in his Romeo and Juliet, has a thought similar to this. Rom. "But soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick, and pale with grief, That thou, fair maid, art far more fair than she, Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal liberty is but sick, And nought but fools do wear it-cast it off. V. 617. Her voice the music of the spheres.] Pythagoras was the first who taught the doctrine of the music of the spheres; he probably intended nothing more by it than to express by a metaphor, allowable in philosophy as well as poetry, the exquisite order and harmony of the celestial bodies. Apollo, the son of the Greeks, is the God of music as well as of day; and Christina, the Hindoo Apollo, is likewise the god of music as well as of astronomy. Milton applied the idea, with a sublime poetical in the fifth book of his Paradise Lost. "That day, as on other solemn days, he spent In Eccentric, intervolv'd; yet regular Then most, when most irregular they seem: And in their motions harmony divine So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear V. 625-6. That have the hard fate to write best Of those still that deserve it least.] Warburton (it is not safe to differ from the judgment of so accute a critic) is of opinion that our author alludes to Waller's poem on Saccharissa. Another conjecture is that he might likewise have had Waller's Panegyric on Oliver Cromwell in view, compared with his Poem to the King, upon his Majesty's happy return: the first of which was a nervous, animated piece, the last a dull and spiritless com position. When he presented his poem to the King, it is related that his Majesty said, "he thought it much inferior to his Panegyric on Cromwell."—" Sir,” replied Waller, with a great presence of mind and happiness of thought, "we poets never succeed so well in writing truth as in fiction." V. 642. With fulhams of poetic fiction.] High and low fulhams, were cant words for false dice; the high fulhams being dice which always ran high, and the low fulhams those that ran low. V. 693. How shall I answer hue and cry.] Hue and cry was the ancient and constitutional mode of raising the posse comitatus to pursue a felon; and Hudibras being incarcerated in the stocks by a body something like the posse comitatus, the lady demands how she durst venture to accept him, when found under such suspicious circumstances? without keeping this point in view, much of the humour of this and the following lines will be lost. V. 694. For a roan gelding twelve hands high.] This is a double stroke at the Knight's person. If he was no more than twelve hands, the Knight's stature must have been about four feet high, a hand in the manege being four inches. V. 695. — a lock on 's hoof.] Alluding to the Knight's durance vile in the stocks. V. 696. Sorrel mane.] Sandy, or red-colored hair. V. 699.-700. Or, should I take you for a stray, You must be kept a year and day.] Cattle that stray into another man's grounds, and are not soon owned, are proclaimed on two market days, in two several market towns next adjoining; and if the owner did not claim them within a year and a day, they became the property of the lord of the manor. V. 715. Semiramis of Babylon.] Semiramis, Queen of Assyria, is said to have been the first that introduced eunuchs. She was, notwithstanding, a woman of a most amorous complexion. V. 719-20. Look on this beard, and tell me whether Eunuchs wear such, &c.] Hudibras stoutly appeals to his beard as a test of virility, which, according to common fame, is wanting in eunuchs. In a former part of this Canto (line 135 et seq.) there is much discourse of his beard; and from what there falls both from the lady and himself, it appears to have been one of comely dimensions; no wonder, therefore, he should appeal to it in vindication of his insulted manhood, V. 725-6. For some philosophers of late here, Write, men have four legs by nature.] Had Butler lived to the times of Lord Monboddo, he would have seen a philosopher maintain, not only that men ought to go upon four legs, but that nature had originally furnished them with tails, which they would have continued to have worn to the present day, had they not been lost by some accident or deterioration of breed. V. 729-30. As 't was in Germany made good, B'a boy that lost himself in a wood.] The story to which Butler alludes was that of "a boy in the country of Liege, who, when he was a child, flying with the people of his village upon the alarm of soldiers, lost himself in a wood, where he lived so long amongst wild beasts, that he was grown over with hair, and lost the use of his speech, and was taken for a satyr by those that discovered him." It seems to have been the common belief of the philosophers of Butler's age, particularly of those who were sceptically disposed, that a human being (if left to himself at an early period of life, and by any means preserved) would, when he grew up, walk upon his hands and feet in the manner of quadrupeds, instead of using his feet only. The tradition of the most remote ages, and the conformation of the human body, are decidedly against the speculations of these philosophers. The best authenticated account of a wild boy, found in the woods, and to all appearance brought up from a very early period in a state of nature, is that of the Savage of Aveyron, a wild youth who was found a few years ago in one of the southern departments of France. According to the memoirs of this extraordinary youth, published by a member of the National Institute, he made no difficulty in walking in the usual manner, and though he used his hands with surprising activity in climbing trees, they did not appear of the same use to him as the fore-legs of a quadruped. The accounts we have of Peter the wild boy, and others found under similar circumstances, are so vague and ill authenticated, that no just conclusion can be drawn from them. V. 737. Quoth he, If you'll join issue on't.] Joining issue generally signifies the point of matter issuing out of the allegations and pleas of the plaintiff and defendant, in a cause to be tried by a jury. V. 741-2. That never shall be done (quoth she) To one that wants a tail by me.] Dr. Grey, in a note upon these lines, says they were designed as a sneer probably upon the old fabulous story of the Kentish long-tails, a name or family of men sometimes inhabiting Stroud, (saith Polydore,) who had tails clapped to their breeches by Thomas of Beckett, for revenge and punishment of a despite done him, by cutting off the tail of his horse." Ray says, (continuing Dr. Grey,) "That some found the proverb of Kentish long-tails upon a miracle of Austin the monk, who, preaching in an English village, and being himself and his associates beat and abused by the Pagans there, who opprobriously tied fish-tails to their backsides, in revenge thereof, such appendants grew to the hind parts of all the generation." All this is foreign to the purpose, and weakens the spirit of our author by excessive dilutation. The widow does not mean to have the Knight, but she does not choose to tell him so in express terms, and therefore she softens her denial, and at the same time indulges her satirical vein by proposing what she was certain he could not perform, namely, that if he could demonstrate he had a tail, she would consent to marry him. The humour of this is so palpable and pungent, and accords so well with the spirit of the preceding dialogue, and the situation and characters of the speakers, that it is surprising Dr. Grey should have gone so far out of his way as he has done, to give a laboured interpretation to the passage. V. 753. The Prince of Cambay's, &c.] In Purchase's Pilgrims there is an account of "Macamut, Sultan of Cambaya, who ate poison from his cradle, and was of that poisonous nature, that when he determined to put any nobleman to death he had him stripped naked, spit upon him, and he instantly died. He had four thousand concubines, and she with whom he lay was always found dead next morning; and if a fly did light upon his hand, it instantly died." The tales of one thousand and one nights were not known to the European world at the period when Butler wrote, or they would have proved a fertile source of allusion to his fertile and happy genius. V. 763. - by postulate illation.] That is, to draw an inference from a supposition. There is a double entendre in the following line, which, however suitable to the age of Charles II. is not of a nature at the present day to bear annotation. V. 765-6-7. But since y' have yet denied to give My heart, your pris'ner, a reprieve, But made it sink down to my heel.] The Knight, very characteristically, throughout the whole of this poem, shews self-interest to be his polar star. When he cannot prevail upon the widow to lend a favorable ear to his addresses, he determines to solicit her to extricate him from his bondage. He entreats her to compassionate his sufferings, and that if she will not take pity upon him as a mistress, at least she will exert her influence as a friend, to deliver him from his disgraceful bondage. V. 771-2. And by discharge, or mainprise, grant Deliv'ry from this base restraint.] That is, either by bailing him out, or by taking him into friendly custody (mainprise), he might be released from his ignominious prison. One of Dr. Grey's critical coadjutors observes, "Why does the knight petition the widow to release him, when she was neither accessary to his imprisonment, nor appears to have had any power to put an end to it? This seeming incongruity may be solved, by supposing, that the usher that attended her was the constable of the place; so the knight might mean, that she would intercede with him to discharge him absolutely, or to be mainprise for him, that is bail or surety. By this conduct she makes the hero's deliverance her own act and deed, after having brought him to a compliance with her terms, which were more shameful than the imprisonment itself." V. 781-2. Is that which Knights are bound to do By order, oath, and honor to.] Don Quixote, at the commencement of his adventures, accosting the two damsels who were taking the air before the door of the inn, where the blanketing adventure afterwards happened, says to them, Fly not, ladies; nor dread the least affront; for it belongs not to the order of Knighthood, which I profess, to injure any mortal, much less such high-born damsels as your appearance declares you to be." The sixth article of the oath of a Knight, (see Selden's Titles of Honor,) runs thus, Ye shall defend the just actions and querelles of all ladies of honour, of all true and friendless widows, orphelins, and maids of good fame." |
