ithdrew,
in full resolution of performing some great achievement. With him, for
his aid and companion, he took his beloved Wotton, resolving by policy or
surprise to attempt some neglected quarter of the Ancients' army. They
began their march over carcases of their slaughtered friends; then to the
right of their own forces; then wheeled northward, till they came to
Aldrovandus's tomb, which they passed on the side of the declining sun.
And now they arrived, with fear, toward the enemy's out-guards, looking
about, if haply they might spy the quarters of the wounded, or some
straggling sleepers, unarmed and remote from the rest. As when two
mongrel curs, whom native greediness and domestic want provoke and join
in partnership, though fearful, nightly to invade the folds of some rich
grazier, they, with tails depressed and lolling tongues, creep soft and
slow. Meanwhile the conscious moon, now in her zenith, on their guilty
heads darts perpendicular rays; nor dare they bark, though much provoked
at her refulgent visage, whether seen in puddle by reflection or in
sphere direct; but one surveys the region round, while the other scouts
the plain, if haply to discover, at distance from the flock, some carcase
half devoured, the refuse of gorged wolves or ominous ravens. So marched
this lovely, loving pair of friends, nor with less fear and
circumspection, when at a distance they might perceive two shining suits
of armour hanging upon an oak, and the owners not far off in a profound
sleep. The two friends drew lots, and the pursuing of this adventure
fell to Bentley; on he went, and in his van Confusion and Amaze, while
Horror and Affright brought up the rear. As he came near, behold two
heroes of the Ancient army, Phalaris and AEsop, lay fast asleep. Bentley
would fain have despatched them both, and, stealing close, aimed his
flail at Phalaris's breast; but then the goddess Affright, interposing,
caught the Modern in her icy arms, and dragged him from the danger she
foresaw; both the dormant heroes happened to turn at the same instant,
though soundly sleeping, and busy in a dream. For Phalaris was just that
minute dreaming how a most vile poetaster had lampooned him, and how he
had got him roaring in his bull. And AEsop dreamed that as he and the
Ancient were lying on the ground, a wild ass broke loose, ran about,
trampling and kicking in their faces. Bentley, leaving the two heroes
asleep, seized on both their armour