University of Virginia Library

A drunken fray.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Dicke met with Tom in faith it was their lot,
Two honest Drunkars must goe drinke a pot,
Twas but a pot, or say a little more,
Or say a pot that's filled eight times ore.
But being drunke, and met well with the leese,
They drinke to healthes deuoutly on their knees,
Dicke drink, to Hall, to pledge him Tom reiects,
And scornes to doe it for some odde respects
Wilt thou not pledge him thar't a gill, a Scab,
Wert with my man-hood thou deseruest a stab,
But tis no matter drinke another bout,
Weele intot'n field and there weele trie it out.
Lets goe (saies Tom) no longer by this hand,
Nay stay (quoth Dicke (lets see if we can stand.
Then forth they goe after the drunken pace,
Which God he knowes was with a reeling grace,
Tom made his bargaine, thus with bonnie Dicke
If it should chance my foote or so should slip,
How wouldst thou vse me or after what Size,
Wouldst bare me shorter or wouldst let me rise.
Nay God forbid our quarrells not so great,
To kill thee on aduantage in my heat.
Tush we'le not fight for any hate or foe,
But for meere loue that each to other owe.
And for thy learning loe Ile shew a tricke,
No sooner spoke the worde but downe comes Dicke,
Well now (quoth Tom) thy life hangs on my sworde,
If I were downe how wouldst thou keepe thy worde?
Why with these hilts I'de braine thee at a blow,
Faith in my humor cut thy throate, or soe,
But Tom he scorne to kill his conquered foe,
Lets Dicke arise, and too't againe they goe.
Dicke throwes downe Tom or rather Tom did fall,
My hilts (quoth Dicke) shall braine thee like a maull,
Is't so (quoth Tom) good faith what remedie,
The Tower of Babell's fallen and so am I.
But Dicke proceedes to giue the fatall wound,
It mist his throate, but run into the ground.
But he supposing that the man was slaine,
Straight fled his contrie, ship himselfe for Spaine,
Whilst valiant Thomas dyed dronken deepe,
Forgot his danger and fell fast a sleepe.