This sword a dagger had his page,
That was but little for his age;
And therefore waited on him so
As dwarfs upon knights-errant do.
Hudibras, canto 1.
Desciption of Hudibras’s horse:
He was well stay’d, and in his gait
Preserv’d a grave, majestic state.
At spur or switch no more he skipt,
Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipt:
And yet so fiery he would bound,
As if he griev’d to touch the ground:
That Cæsar’s horse, who, as fame goes,
Had corns upon his feet and toes,
Was not by half so tender hooft,
Nor trod upon the ground so soft.
And as that beast would kneel and stoop,
(Some write) to take his rider up;
So Hudibras his (’tis well known)
Would often do, to set him down.
Canto 1.
Honour is, like a widow, won
With brisk attempt and putting on,
With entering manfully, and urging;
Not slow approaches, like a virgin.
Canto 1.
The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap;
And, like a lobster boil’d, the morn
From black to red began to turn.
Part 2. canto 2.
Books, like men, their authors, have but one way of coming into the world; but there are ten thousand to go out of it, and return no more.
Tale of a Tub.
And in this the world may perceive the difference between the integrity of a generous author, and that of a common friend. The latter is observed to adhere close in prosperity, but on the decline of fortune, to drop suddenly off: whereas the generous author, just on the contrary, finds his hero on the dunghill, from thence by gradual steps raises him to a throne, and then immediately withdraws, expecting not so much as thanks for his pains.
Tale of a Tub.
The most accomplish’d way of using books at present is, to serve them as some do lords, learn their titles, and then brag of their acquaintance.