Page:An English Garner Ingatherings from Our History and Literature (Volume 1 1877).pdf/650

 In prison, they him shut by night, Laden with chains of grievous weight; All comfortless, in dungeon deep, Where stench annoys, and vermin creep: He grovelled in this loathsome cell, Where ghastly frights and horrors dwell.

Yet nothing could his courage quail, Hunger, nor thirst, nor wound, nor gaol; For being brought before a Don, And asked "Why England did set on  A scraping, no a pecking hen?   He answered "Stain not Englishmen!

"That England is a nation stout, And till the last will fight it out; Myself could prove by chivalry, If for a captive this were free." "Why," quoth the Duke, "durst thou to fight  With any of my men in sight?"

"Of thousands whom in war you use; Not one," quoth Peeke, "do I refuse." A chosen champion then there came; Whose heels he tripped, as at a game: And from his hand his rapier took, Presenting it unto the Duke.

Then Three at once did him oppose; They rapiers, he a long staff chose: The use whereof so well he knows, He conquered them with nimble blows: One that beside him played his round, He threw as dead unto the ground.