Alack, my very heart doth bleed,
And doth within me sink!
For surely a more sober Earl
Did never swallow drink.
With that the sheriff, in a rage,
To see the Earl so smit,
Vow'd to revenge the dead-drunk peer
Upon renowned St. Kitt.
Then stepp'd a gallant squire forth,
Of visage thin and pale;
Lloyd was his name, and of Gany Hall,
Fast by the river Swale;
Who said, he would not have it told
Where Eden river ran,
That, unconcerned, he should sit by,
So, sheriff, I'm your man.
Now, when these tidings reach'd the room,
Where the Duke lay in bed,
How that the squire thus suddenly
Upon the floor was laid:
O heavy tidings! quoth the Duke,
Cumberland thou witness be,
I have not any captain, more
Of such account as he.
Like tidings to Earl Thanet came,
Within as short a space,
How that the under sheriff, too,
Was fallen from his place.
Now God be with him, said the Earl,
Sith 'twill no better be;
I trust I have within my town
As drunken knights as he.
Of all the number that were there,
Sir Rains he scorned to yield;
But, with a bumper in his hand,
He stagger'd o'er the field.
Thus did this dare contention end,
And each man of the slain
Were quickly carried off to sleep,
Their senses to regain.