The wrong done to his fundament;
Began to kick, and fling, and wince,
As if h' had been beside his sense,
Striving to disengage from thistle, 850
That gall'd him sorely under his tail:
Instead of which, he threw the pack
Of Squire and baggage from his back;
And blund'ring still with smarting rump,
He gave the Knight's steed such a thump 855
As made him reel. The Knight did stoop,
And sat on further side aslope.
This TALGOL viewing, who had now
By sleight escap'd the fatal blow,
He rally'd, and again fell to't; 860
For catching foe by nearer foot,
He lifted with such might and strength,
As would have hurl'd him thrice his length,
And dash'd his brains (if any) out:
But MARS, that still protects the stout, 865
In pudding-time came to his aid,
And under him the Bear convey'd;
The Bear, upon whose soft fur-gown
The Knight with all his weight fell down.
The friendly rug preserv'd the ground, 870
And headlong Knight, from bruise or wound;
Like feather-bed betwixt a wall
And heavy brunt of cannon-ball.
As Sancho on a blanket fell,
And had no hurt, our's far'd as well 875
In body; though his mighty spirit,