Though he has quarter, ne'ertheless

Y' have power to hang him when you please;
This has been often done by some

Of our great conqu'rors; you know whom ;
And has by most of us been held
Wise justice, and to some reveal'd:
For words and promises, that yoke
The conqueror, are quickly broke ;
Like Samson's cuffs, though by his own
Direction and advice put on.

For if we should fight for the Cause
By rules of military laws,

And only do what they call just,
The Cause would quickly fall to dust.
This we among ourselves may speak;
But to the wicked or the weak
We must be cautious to declare
Perfection-truths, such as these are.'
This said, the high outrageous mettle
Of Knight began to cool and settle.
He lik'd the Squire's advice, and soon
Resolv'd to see the business done;
And therefore charg'd him first to bind
Crowdero's hands on rump behind,
And to its former place and use
The wooden member to reduce,
But force it take an oath before,
Ne'er to bear arms against him more.
Ralpho dispatch'd with speedy haste,
And having tied Crowdero fast,

in the Parliament army, that he was notable for having killed several after quarter given by others, using these words in doing it; Cursed be he who doth the work of the Lord negligently.'

He gave Sir Knight the end of cord,
To lead the captive of his sword
In triumph, whilst the steeds he caught,
And then to further service brought.
The Squire, in state, rode on before,
And on his nut-brown whinyard bore
The trophy-Fiddle and the case,
Leaning on shoulder like a mace.
The Knight himself did after ride,
Leading Crowdero by his side;

And tow'd him, if he lagg'd behind,
Like boat, against the tide and wind.
Thus grave and solemn they march on,
Until quite through the town they 'ad gone
At further end of which there stands
An ancient castle, that commands
Th' adjacent parts; in all the fabric
You shall not see one stone nor a brick,
But all of wood, by powerful spell
Of magic made impregnable:
There's neither iron-bar, nor gate,
Portcullis, chain, nor bolt, nor grate,
And yet men durance there abide,
In dungeon scarce three inches wide;
With roof so low, that under it
They never stand, but lie or sit;
And yet so foul, that whoso is in,
Is to the middle-leg in prison;
In circle magical confin'd,

With walls of subtile air and wind,
Which none are able to break thorough,
Until they're freed by head of borough.
Thither arriv'd, th' advent'rous Knight
And bold Squire from their steeds alight

At th' outward wall, near which there stands
A Bastile, built to' imprison hands;
By strange enchantment made to fetter
The lesser parts, and free the greater;
For though the body may creep through,
The hands in grate are fast enow:
And when a circle 'bout the wrist
Is made by beadle exorcist,
The body feels the spur and switch,
As if 'twere ridden post by witch,
At twenty miles an hour pace,
And yet ne'er stirs out of the place.
On top of this there is a spire,

On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire
The Fiddle, and its spoils, the case,
In manner of a trophy place.

That done, they ope the trap-door gate,
And let Crowdero down thereat;
Crowdero making doleful face,
Like Hermit poor in pensive place,
To dungeon they the wretch commit,
And the survivor of his feet;

But the' other that had broke the peace,
And head of Knighthood, they release,
Though a delinquent false and forged,
Yet b'ing a stranger, he's enlarged,
While his comrade, that did no hurt,
Is clapp'd up fast in prison for't:
So Justice, while she winks at crimes,
Stumbles on innocence sometimes.

The scatter'd rout return and rally,
Surround the place; the Knight does sally,
And is made prisoner; then they seize
The' inchanted fort by storm, release
Crowdero, and put the Squire in's place;
I should have first said Hudibras.