Knight-Errantry; OR, DON QUIXOT Encountring the WINDMILL. BEING A Relation of the Siege OF KNOCKE.
‘Spectatum Admissi risum teneatis amici.’Hor. Ar. Po.
THE bold Allies, whose Pride and Numbers swell,
In Peaceful Camps resolve no more to dwell;
But to direct their Fury and their Gall
A grave Cabal, They, of the Sagest, call;
Whose Teeming Brains in Copulation join,
To Procreate Some Shapely, brave design.
With an unusual stir they pant, and heave,
The Generous offspring lab'ring to Conceive;
Till after many Pangs, and tedious Throws
The Graceful Pregnant Heroe with THE NOSE
Brought forth, to this effect, some wondrous Prose.
My Friends, 'tis true, some Blood the Wars have cost;
Some Treasure has been spent, and Towns been lost;
But pass't unlucky Chances to redeem,
And re-instate our Lauguishing Esteem,
[Page 2] To Action we'll Proceed: A mighty Town
Shall be besieg'd, of strenght, and of renown:
From whence we'll France so forcibly invade
She'l soon disgorge the Conquest she has made;
'Tis KNOCKE'S the Place shall feel our Thundring hand,
The Noblest Fortress that secures the Land.
Where, if success doth with our Councils hit,
Ypre, and Dunkirk will in [...]ourse submit.
Those Petty Forts will ne'er withstand our Pow'rs
When Knocke, the fam'd Metrapolis, is ours.
'Tis there, my Warriours, we'ell defeat the Foe;
There purchase Praise, and rich in Glory grow;
'Tis there th' enslav'd, the wounded and the slain
Shall give an Earnest of a Bless'd Campaign.
With that, to Boast his Manhood, he Assum'd
A Frowning Look; and fiercely Cockt, and Plum'd,
Into a sort of Warlike fit he flew,
And, in the Furious Transport, almost drew,
Then thus Proceeded—
The Stubborn murmuring Britains loudly rore
That we're in debt; but Knocke shall pay the Score:
That in 7 years it is a Burning shame
We've nothing done; but Knocke shall raise our Fame:
That Mons's Loss, and two Great Cities more
It is a Deep wound; But Knocke shall heal the Sore:
That of its Wealth th' exhausted Realm we drain
To Feed th' Allies; But Knocke shall fill't again▪
That Horrid Crimes we Act, They dare not Name
For fear of Law; But Knocke shall Mend the Same:
Where, tho' we fail, the Conscious World must tell,
From vast attempts, how gloriously we fell.
At that they all out into raptures broke,
And deeply swore, the God of Wisdom Spoke.
They no sooner Agreed on this Project uncommon,
Then the Chief of the Cause shew'd himself not a slow Man:
For Commands to make ready for Death, and for slaughter
Flew as quick as the Bullets, that caus'd 'em, flew after;
And the brisk Engineers, to amazment, and wonder,
Were as Nimble as Light'ing, to rigg out their Thunder,
And Select the bold Blades, that without any Flatt'ry,
Whole Millions of Oaths, on occasion, cou'd scatter ye,
And of Old had been fam'd for Assault, and for Battery.
[Page 3] Those Too, that when School Boys, cou'd craftily slip into Orchards, and steal the Pear-main, and the Pippin;
That a Warren cou'd Plunder, and rob a Hen-roost too,
Were earnestly sought, as the Men they must trust to:
For 'tis such, we must own, at the business of Storming
Are the Loons of most skill, and the Mightiest performing.
And now thro' the Camp rose a Terrible Tattle,
The Trumpets spoke loud, and the Drums made a rattle
To rouse up their Spirits, and call them to Battle.
And that most incomp'rable Musick the Fife
In the Ears of the Soldiers was wonderful rife,
Sufficient in Cowards to put life, and mettle,
And make Guinea-Gold of a Common Brass Kettle.
On the March the Gay, witty, spruce Lads that were half in
With Beer, and with Brandy were joking, and Laughing
At Knocke; In a whole Summers day one shan't see
The Like, how the Name on't tickl'd their Fancy:
Till at lenght they came up about 12 a Clock one day
(I think 'twas the Ninth of the Month, and a Sunday)
When at night some detach'd Grenadiers that were trusty
Felt the Pulse of the place; which they found to be Lusty;
Whose Fortifi'd Caps were as thick, and as tall
As an Ord'nary Gar'sons Rampart or Wall.
On the Fronts of 'em Raw head and Bloody Bones painted,
Enough to scare Men, with such sights, not acquainted,
And 'twas well for the French, that they came hitt, or miss, on
In the dark, who not else would have touch'd Amunition,
Or dar'd to have fac'd such a dire Apparition.
Tho' some of them Knavishly Crawling, and Creeping
Into other Folks Premisses, paid for their Peeping.
To be short, when the Foe had severely rebuff'd 'em,
And with multiply'd infamy Kick't 'em, and cuff'd 'em,
When their Guns, that divided Men's Corps into Quarters,
Had Canoniz'd Saints, and made many Martyrs;
When Fatt Beef and Pudding, priz'd highly by all had
Been bang'd by Soop meager, and Thin-gutted Sallad,
When to no sort of purpose at all there, by God, They,
Had lain the third part of a Month, and an odd day,
Not to break an Old Custom, much lessen'd in Number,
They drew off to Dixmuyde, with their remnant of Lumber;
Where on Brown Bread, and Butter, they Manfully Forrage,
And Curse their damn'd Foes, that are friendly to Porrage.
Thence a Mercury flew, to report the disaster,
To the JOVE (at Becclaer that lay snorting) his Master:
Who thus was inform'd after twenty God's Bluds, Sir.
The Place is too strong, and the Siege in the Sudds Sir.
Notwithstanding, the DON, tho' the Case was a sad one
Put the best Face he cou'd on't tho' God knows, a Bad one;
And Said that no more such affronts he'd endure,
But the Scandal of Knocke, wou'd revenge on NAMURE;
That the French (and then horribly Swore by his Maker)
Should have Cause to Confess him a Bloody Town-Taker
Now some think the Sharper, to lay his Plot Closer,
Play'd off a few men, with design to be Looser;
And that all was a Politick Cheat, and sham Trick
To draw in the Bubbles, and give 'em a damn'd Nick;
That the Fox, with a fetch most egregiously queint.
To push home at Namure, at La Knockque made a feint;
And no more meant his Fame should be murder'd or wounded,
Than the Child that's unborn, or the Man in the Moon did:
Tho' I must declare, with a Solemn Protesting,
That I don't know what's earnest, if this was but jesting.
Or how any Wight, in his Right senses, can Sir,
Hope the Master to beat, that's subdu'd by the Man Sir:
For La Knocke is no better, for all it's renown,
Than a Foot-boy, or Page to a fortified Town;
No; 'tis rage, and despair drives him on; It can never
Be hopes of success that enclin'd him; However
VVee'l leave Him as well as he can to Namure it,
And return to La Knocque, that took care to secure it
Self bravely; as we shall stil freely Confess it
And thus, in Heroicks, make bold to Address it.
For thee, La Knoque, tho' small's thy space, and room;
Thy Story shall be large in time to Come;
Thy worth shall Sound on every distant shore
Loud as the Drum can beat, or Cannon rore,
Tho' slight in force, and of a slender Fame,
Little-Fort-Knock, has been thy former Name;
But since th'art now Baptiz'd with BRITISH BLOOD,
And brave MONTAL for God-father has stood,
No more with disrespect thy Name We'll treat,
But, Newly Christen'd, from thy Foes defeat,
Thou, for the future, shallt be KNOCK THE GREAT.
July 4th. 1695
FINIS.