Page:Hudibras - Volume 1 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/170

92 And wanting nothing but a song, And a well-tuned theorbo hung Upon a bough, to ease the pain His tugg'd ears suffer'd, with a strain. They both drew up, to march in quest Of his great leader, and the rest.
 * For Orsin, who was more renown'd

For stout maintaining of his ground In standing fights, than for pursuit, As being not so quick of foot, Was not long able to keep pace With others that pursu'd the chase, But found himself left far behind, Both out of heart and out of wind; Griev'd to behold his bear pursu'd So basely by a multitude, And like to fall, not by the prowess, But numbers, of his coward foes. He rag'd, and kept as heavy a coil as Stout Hercules for loss of Hylas; Forcing the vallies to repeat The accents of his sad regret: He beat his breast, and tore his hair, For loss of his dear crony bear; That Echo, from the hollow ground, His doleful wailings did resound