It seems was roughly us'd (so says the story)
But being a little heated and high blown,
In anger flyes at Story, puls him down;
And when they rise (I know not how it fated)
One got the worst, the Story was translated
From white to red, but ere the fight was ended
It seems a Gentleman, that one befriended,
Came in and parted them; the little blade,
There's none that could intreat, or yet perswade,
But he would fight still, till another came,