THE
LUTRIN.
CANTO V.
OW had the Morn unbarr'd the Gates of Light,
And saw the Canons up, Surprizing Sight!
Aurora blush'd to see her self out-shone
By Florid Looks more ruddy than her Own.
Brontin to Sydrac speedily repairs,
And the Misfortune of the Desk declares;
Old Sydrac wept for Joy at his successful Cares.
In silent Raptures Building as he stood
A Thousand Law-suits on the ruin'd Wood.
The Youthful Sire grows vigorous and bold;
Age has no Ice, and Winter has no Cold.
A sprightly warmth quickn'd his Tardy Blood,
His Veins recruiting with a brisker Flood.
Streight to the Prelate he betakes his Flight,
And with loud Clamour opens to the Light
The Melancholy Scene, and Crimes of Night.
The Prelate, grieving to be rouz'd so Soon,
Impetuous Leap'd from his inchanting Down.
Gladly wou'd Gilotin his Stay detain
With a two-handed Goblet of Champaign;
The Graceful Bumper, wont to break his Fast,
With slighted Smiles Now lures his Master's taste
Unmoistn'd and Unbless'd, he Streight prepares
With Extricating Comb t' adjust his frizl'd Hairs.
Twice did the Ivory break, and twice the Box,
In hasty grapple with Confed'rate Locks.
So when Alcides Spun, Unbred to feel
A Weight so light, he broke the Spinning-Wheel.
Half-dress'd he Goes. When lo! before his Gate
An ardent Troop of Charch-Militia Wait.
Resolv'd, at their Affronted Lord's desire,
Unanimously to Desert the Choire.
But the grave Sire, appealing to the Laws,
Condemns a Project Useless to his Cause.
For Future Fate, Said He, we ought to look
In the Mysterious Sibyll's Sacred Book.
Not far her Cave; Come on, and let's Submit
To what Expedient She pronounces fit.
All with One Voice the sage Advice approve,
And tow'rds the Bar the Holy Warriours move.
Her Den groan'd horrible, while Echo round
Doubles th' affright, as She repeats the Sound.
Amidst those Gothick Pillars, which Support
The formidable Hall, and awful Court
Of Common Pleas; a Famous Fabrick's rear'd,
Ador'd by Lawyers and by Clients fear'd.
Here Fools and Knaves each Term in shoals repair,
Thin'd with the Diet of Litigious Air.
Beneath a Hill of Briefs, Green Bags, and Scrolls,
Here every Morn a Hectic Sibyll howls.
Vain are the Tears of Orphans, vain their Cries,
To that foul Monster, void of Ears and Eyes,
Call'd Chicanry, in learned Modern style,
Bulky with Ruin, and o'ergrown with Spoil.
While the wrong'd Widow want of Justice mourns,
And the vex'd Air each empty groan returns;
Pale Want and Famine, like some injur'd Ghost,
Stalk o'er the Ground, and weep their Treasures lost.
Infamous Poverty, Devouring Care,
And Everlasting Toil, and lean Despair,
And black Chagrin, Compleat the Mournful Part;
The wretched Off-spring of her Cursed Art!
Case-Books and Codes the Busy[errata 1] Hag Consume,
And Dies her self to dig another's Tomb;
At every Meal, the hungry Fury Eats
Fair Palaces, strong Castles, Country Seats.
The bubbl'd Suitors at their Fate repine;
Gull'd with Superfluous Reams for Solid Coin.
A Hundred times has Justice turn'd her Scales;
So oft her guilty Influence prevails.
Incessantly from Trick to Trick she Runs;
And sometimes, like an Owl, the Day-light shuns.
Now, like a Lyon Lashing his dull sides,
She stalks with fiery Eyes, and frightful Strides:
Now like a Serpent thro' the Herbage glides.
Long has the justest. Monarch Strove in Vain,
With Gordian Knots this Proteus to restrain.
Her Claws, by So———rs clip'd, increase in Strength?
With Ink discolour'd, and o'ergrown in Length.
Ramparts and Dykes of Law, too feeble Foes,
Resist th' Invasion, but in vain oppose.
With Creeping Guile she Saps the Easy Ground,
Or with High Torrent breaks th'Obstructing Mound.
Sydrac Salutes the Fiend, and bending low,
With distant awe reveres her wrinkled Brow.
Then Tempting Gold displays: She with delight
Views the bright Scene, and dwells upon the Sight.
When thus the SireContention's Mighty Queen!
Unquestion'd You o'er Kings and Peasants Reign.
Thro' Thee, Force useless is, and Laws are weak;
Statutes, like Cobwebs, You at pleasure Break.
For Thee the Hind Sweats at his drudging Plough;
For Thee his Flocks are fleec'd, his Meadows grow.
For Thee he Yearly reaps his Golden Fields;
To Thee his Rich Autumnal Labour Yields.
If from my Infant Years I've Thee ador'd,
And Seas of Ink on thy dread Altars pour'd,
Disdain not, Mighty Goddess! now to own
In his declining Years thy faithful Son.
Industrious Fautress of Vexation, Hear,
And Answer an imploring Prelate's Pray'r.
For on the Ruins of his Bright Renown
An envious Rival has advanc'd his own:
The Desk Destroying, with a forceful Band;
The Desk, late Re-erected by our Hand.
Exhaust thy Fatal Knowledge in this Cause,
Revolve the Books, Create Eternal Flaws,
And with Dædalean Wiles confound the Laws.
Be to thy Darling Sons those Arts display'd
Which puzzle [1]Themis in the Rules she made!
The Sibyll, wild with joy, thrice shriek'd aloud,
While her swoln Visage glow'd with pois'nous Blood.
Convulsive Agitations rack'd her Breast;
Full of the Daemon which her Soul Opprest,
Till in these Words the loud Tornado broke;
And eas'd her lab'ring Bosom, as She spoke.
My Friends, dismiss your Fears, You shall replace
On the proud Chanter's Pew that War-creating Mass,
Arms you must take; so Fate Ordains; To Arms!
Prepare; My Sons, for glorious loud Alarms:
May long, long Suits Ensue, and Oh! Beware
Never on any Terms your Cause Refer.
Let all Accommodation be Abhor'd:
Curst be the Slave who listens to Accord:
Curst be the Wretch that mentions but the Word.
She stop't, and foaming breath'd upon the Throng
The same Dire Spirit late her Breast had stung.
From the Wild Hag, The Dæmons disengag'd,
Entred the Herd, and like a Tempest rag'd.
Headlong he drives 'em to the Deep Abyss
Of Law, unmindful of the Precipice.
Demurrers, Writs, Injunctions, Outla'ry,
Errors, Eternal Bills in Chancery,
In each undaunted Champion's Front appear,
And obstinately Threat perpetual War.
All, flush'd with fansy'd Victory, return;
They quit the less'ning Cave[errata 2], and with new fury burn.
Mean Time, the Canons Far from Noise and Care,
Indulge their Senses with Delicious Fare,
The Servants under Thirty Chargers Sweat,
And the full Board groans with the Sav'ry Weight.
Each Glutton hunts, and garbles out Nice Bits,
And, as his Fancy dictates Dainties, Eats.
The Pasty's irritating Salt excites,
And kindles up their Thirsty Appetites.
When (Oh! Uncertain State of Human Things!)
Light-footed Fame Unhappy Tydings brings,
Reports with trembling Lips and visage pale
The Oracle, and all its Dire Detail.
The Chanter, warm'd with Muscadine and Rage,
Arose, resolv'd the Prelate to ingage.
He too the Sibyll will consult, and Try,
What is reserv'd for Him in Destiny.
Plump Ev'rard the Deserted Banquet Mourns,
And still, with strong Desire of Feasting, Burns.
But the regretting Epicure They tear,
Born off by Numbers, to the Dreadful Bar.
Thro' Various Paths, Oblique and Dark, they Draw
Near to the Clam'rous Market of the Law.
At length They reach the Celebrated Hall,
Where Mercenary Tongues unweary'd bawl.
In Om'nous Black, like Priests, Each Proctor plys,
And serves his Client up for Sacrifice.
Here the shop'd Syrens make a Busy Show,
But get their Bread by what they Vend Below.
Here crafty Bibliopole All Authors Sells;
Wit, Learning, Arts and Sciences retails.
Mingling, without Distinction, Good and Bad;
Here Dryden, Next him Ogilby is laid.
While Boyle and B———ly blended, well Accord;
And Row and Settle grace one common Board.
The Chanter Now with formidable Noise,
Exalts his shrill Ecclesiastic Voice:
Urging his forward wayWhen Oh Dire Chance!
The Prelate and his Myrmidons advance.
Each rugged Hero, with encountring Eyes,
His Rival's louring Front alternately Surveys:
Sullen and Dumb Disdainfully they Stop,
An Equal Madness Choaks and Swells 'em up.
So two fierce Bulls, who Rival-Passions share
For some lov'd Heifer, Meditate a War.
With jealous Rage fir'd at each others Sight,
They quit the Pasture and prepare for Fight;
Bowing their Necks, Each his curl'd Forehead shakes,
While from their Blood-shot Eyes their inward Fury breaks.
Ev'rard, by Boirude elbow'd, found his Spleen
Began to Swell, and Stimulate within;
To Biblio's shop he bent his hasty Course,
A Cyrus seiz'd, and with gigantic Force
Th' unweildy Volume, at the Sexton threw;
He politickly Judg'd it, and withdrew:
But hissing as it went, It Sydrac struck
Full on the Chest; who Sunk beneath the Shock:
The Sire, by [2]Artamene forc'd to yield,
Fell Breathless, the first Victim of the Field:
His Friends with pain beheld his Overthrow,
And Sympathizing Felt Themselves the Blow.
Now against Everard twenty Champions dart,
And all resolve to batter down a Part:
The Canons their Assaulted Brother Spy,
And forward, to sustain the Onset, fly:
Discord, Triumphant in the turbid Air
Gave a loud shriek, the Signal of the War.
Now Nothing's heard but Clank and Warlike Din;
All Mingling, Enter Biblio's Magazine:
Poor Ev'rard Sinks beneath a Booky Show'r;
Twelves, Quartos, Folios, and Octavos pour.
So when destructive Boreas Marches forth
With his Impetuous Forces of the North;
In Storms of Icy Rain he plows the Air,
Lays waste the Fields and makes the Orchards bare:
Throws down the blooming Honour of the Boughs,
The Promise of the teeming Year and Lab'ring Gardner's Vows.
All arm themselves with Ammunition Books,
Contract their Brows, and Threaten with their Looks:
One with vindictive Hand light Durfy shakes;
Another, Wycherly more weighty, takes;
A Third tore Westly from the Dusty Wood,
Where long untouch'd the Mouldy Epic stood;
A fourth Up-heaves a leaden Basnage high,
Stuff'd with Rabbinical Philosophy.
Lo, a tremendous Typhon Guards the Front,
With Enterprizing L———t's Name upon't.
Oh! had'st thou, Mighty Nurse of Dulness, liv'd
I'th' bright Augustan Age, we had receiv'd
The Bavian Works entire; Mævius by Thee
Had been Immortal as [3]The Hollow Tree.
The Absent Biblio's Prentice strives in vain,
Their more than Gothick Madness to restrain.
Volumes aloft, a Leathern Tempest, Fly;
And Clouds of rising Dust involve the Sky.
They Bruise for Bruise Exchange, and Wound for Wound,
And Heaps of Books and Bodies raise the level Ground.
Here Tuneful Waller on the Pavement lay,
And near him Quarles once more beheld the Day:
Here Aristotle Flew, Descartes There;
The Heroes met, and [4]Jostl'd in Mid-Air.
Numberless Books appear'd this mighty Hour,
Which scarce were seen, or ever known before.
Here Parthenissa and Cassandra flew;
Romantic Weight did Real Strength subdue.
John Dunton too was seen, A wondrous Sight!
To Dust retir'd, Revisiting the Light:
And Towring the [5]Dead Author took his Flight.
Next him, from its belov'd recess is Torn
An English Chevreau, dead as soon as born.
The Rights[errata 3] o'th' Church alone Unshaken stood,
And grinning smil'd at sight of Priestly Blood.
A Keeble's Statutes, with Unfriendly Weight
Of crabbed Law, bruis'd Girot's empty Pate.
When rough Alcippus felt a sudden Shock;
Th' Arabian Tales his wounded Shoulder struck.
Indolent Sheets! till now unus'd to bear
The rough Fatigues and barbarous Rage of War,
Supinely in soft Dreams You lull'd the Fair.
Some luckless Hand afresh Eliza throws
At Clotho's Head, and Smote him 'twixt the Brows;
When, Strange effect! the brawny Priest began
To Yawn and stretch; Lethargic Stiffness Ran
Thro' All the Magazines of Vital Heat;
The Veins no more Life's quickning task repeat;
The Soporiferous Rhimes benumb'd his Breast,
And with Strong Opiats forc'd him down to Rest.
Clelia wag'd Amazonian War Around,
And bore down many a Hero to the Ground.
'Twas by her Aid alone Gorillion's Name
Reap'd Glorious Laurels, and a Deathless Fame.
[6]Ten times by Her he signaliz'd his Arm,
And Murd'rous bruises dealt and Mighty Harm.
But to Stout Fabri's Virtue all must Yield;
Fabri the foremost Champion in the Field!
Hatch'd of a Sturdy Consecrated Brood,
Nurtur'd i'th' Church, And Cradle'd up in Feud.
Robust of Body, And of Mind as Hard,
No Danger his Intrepid Soul Debar'd,
And Equally for All Events prepar'd.
To Fight or Eat He never wou'd decline;
Nor knew the Use of Water with his Wine.
His Single Arm Whole Squadrons Overthrew;
He Guibert, Grasset, and Grangullet slew,
Beau Gervase, and insipid Guerin too.
And now the Prelate's Vanquish'd Forces Fly;
Renounce their Strength, and On their Speed rely.
Fabri as fast pursues the Scatt'ring Train,
Wounds 'em Behind, and Drives 'em o'er the Plain.
So have I seen a Tim'rous flock of Sheep
Affrighted Run, and in their Hurdles Creep;
When some Fierce Wolf, the Louis of the Wood,
Attempts the Fold, to Feast himself with Blood.
Or when Pelides shook his Thundring Spear
On Xanthus Plains, the Terror of the War;
The Ilian Troops struck with Imperious Dread,
Behind their Rampires in Confusion Fled.
When thus, to sinking Boirude, Brontin Spoke;
I see, Illustrious Sexton, in thy Look
Some Seeds of Ancient Prowess: Oh my Friend!
Let's to the last Our righteous Cause defend.
What shall One Canon over Us prevail,
And with his Single Weight thus turn the Scale?
Shall it be said One Warrior bore away
The Glory of the Cope and this Decisive Day?
No; Never let that Envious Babler[errata 4] Fame
Tarnish the Lustre of thy Dauntless Name.
Come, and Behind my Screening Body stand,
This Bastion shall secure Thee from his Hand.
Here, At his Head Fair Trotter[errata 5]'s Works let fly;
And may they prove as killing as her Eye!
Boirude recall'd his Spirits to his Aid,
And with Collected force th' Advice Obey'd.
By Brontin Cover'd, Takes delib'rate Aim,
And at the Warrior darts the Missive Dame.
The tender Auth'ress Softens on his Crown,
And Guiltless of a Wound fell Feebly down.
Ye Miscreant Pair, said Fabri, thus you see
My Front rebates your soft Artillery.
Think ye, that I, who like a Castle stand,
Can fall, the Conquest of a Female Hand?
Judge, if my Arm, with Mean exploits content,
Do's on it's Errand send an Innocent.
Lo! here! A Folio, swol'n with Floods of Gore,
Shall Crown the Carnage of this Bloody Hour!
With this, He Fox's Book of Martyrs chose.
Four ill-joyn'd Boards the Coverture compose,
Burrow'd by Worms, and Edg'd with Iron round;
And with an Old black Sheep-skin half way bound,
No Silken Tyes it had, but at each Hasp
Hung by three Nails a Remnant of a Clasp.
Firm as it Stood upon the bending Shelf,
No Humane Force cou'd Stir it, but Himself.
This Fabri seiz'd, and brandishing on High
A-tiptoe Stands, and Guides it by his Eye,
Then at the trembling Slaves, half Dead with Fear,
Flings with both Hands the Thunderbolt of War,
And home it went. With One disastrous Wound
Both Heroes fell, and Measuring Bit the Ground.
Torn with the Nails, and Pounded by the Wood,
The Pavement swam with gushing Streams of Blood.
They churn'd the Dust, and gnash'd their Teeth, and Howl'd,
And down the Stair-case o'er each Other rowl'd.
The Prelate saw their Fall with ghastful Eyes,
And sent to Heav'n a Scream that pierc'd the Skies.
Struck back with Horror and Appall'd with Fear,
He curses in his Heart the God of War,
With Silent Indignation he Retreats,
Yet still the Chanter in his Mind defeats.
Then rallying his lost Spirits, Makes a Stand,
And from his Cassock Draws his Vengeful Hand.
Yes, said the Mighty Chief; Tho' Armies fail,
These Blessing-giving Fingers shall prevail.
Forward he moves, and upwards turns his Eyes,
Then Stretch'd his Fingers forth in Holy-Wise.
Kneeling in heaps the Passengers Receive
The Benedictions He prepares to Give,
With politic design to turn the Rout
Upon his Foes, who durst not Stand him Out.
The Zealous Vulgar Force down All they Meet,
Nor will they Suffer One to keep his Feet.
Th' Out-witted Adverse Host, Confounded stare
At this unthought of Stratagem in War,
And dread the Storm approaching from afar,
Vainly the Trembling Chanter seeks for Aid
From his own Courage, or his Firm Brigade.
By Both Forsaken, He too now must Fly,
Or Fall before his Haughty Enemy.
The Consternated Troops Themselves Disband.
Yet None Escapes the swift-pursuing Hand.
Driv'n on each others Backs, and spur'd by Fear;
Still Hangs the Conquering Finger on their Rear.
Ev'rard, in Hopes to hide his threatn'd Head
From Holy Insult, to a Corner Fled.
The Watchful Prelate saw his close Retreat,
And strait March'd up, his Conquest to Compleat.
Then Turning to the Right, he wheel'd around,
And Bless'd the frightn'd Champion to the Ground.
Thrice he Erects his Rebel Head in Vain,
The lengthen'd Finger forc'd him down again.
Oblig'd to Kneel, because the Mob's so near;
And what he owes to Rev'rence Pays to Fear.
The Prelate to the Temple Makes his Way
To taste the Fruits of this Victorious Day.
The Chanter and the Canons too Return,
And Inly their defeated Project Mourn.
Vanquish'd by Pious Fraud, in Crouds they Prest
Thro' the throng'd Doors, at once both Maul'd and Blest.
Errata