Th' old Romans freedom did bestow, 235 Our princes worship, with a blow. King PYRRHUS cur'd his splenetic And testy courtiers with a kick. The NEGUS, when some mighty lord Or potentate's to be restor'd 240 And pardon'd for some great offence, With which be's willing to dispense, First has him laid upon his belly, Then beaten back and side to a jelly; That done, he rises, humbly bows, 245 And gives thanks for the princely blows; Departs not meanly proud, and boasting Of this magnificent rib-roasting. The beaten soldier proves most manful, That, like his sword, endures the anvil, 250 And justly's held more formidable, The more his valour's malleable: But he that fears a bastinado Will run away from his own shadow: And though I'm now in durance fast, 255 By our own party basely cast, Ransom, exchange, parole refus'd, And worse than by the enemy us'd; In close catasta shut, past hope Of wit or valour to elope; 260 As beards the nearer that they tend To th' earth still grow more reverend; And cannons shoot the higher pitches, The lower we let down their breeches; I'll make this low dejected fate 265 Advance me to a greater height. Quoth she, Y' have almost made me in love With that which did my pity move. Great wits and valours, like great states, Do sometimes sink with their own weights: Th' extremes of glory and of shame, 270 Like East and West, become the same: No Indian Prince has to his palace More foll'wers than a thief to th' gallows, But if a beating seem so brave, 275 What glories must a whipping have Such great atchievements cannot fail To cast salt on a woman's tail: For if I thought your nat'ral talent Of passive courage were so gallant, 280 As you strain hard to have it thought, I could grow amorous, and dote. When HUDIBRAS this language heard, He prick'd up's ears and strok'd his beard; Thought he, this is the lucky hour; 285 Wines work when vines are in the flow'r; This crisis then I'll set my rest on, And put her boldly to the question. Madam, what you wou'd seem to doubt, Shall be to all the world made out, 290 How I've been drubb'd, and with what spirit And magnanimity I bear it; And if you doubt it to be true, I'll stake myself down against you: And if I fail in love or troth, 295 Be you the winner, and take both. Quoth she, I've beard old cunning stagers Say, fools for arguments use wagers; And though I prais'd your valour, yet I did not mean to baulk your wit; 300 Which, if you have, you must needs know What I have told you before now, And you b' experiment have prov'd, I cannot love where I'm belov'd.