"Lusty" Stucley

Where is that slave—where is he,That holds in chase mine honour up and down?

Doubtless, if ever man was misbegfot,It is this Stucley.

A fatal fight, where in one day was slainThree king's that were, and one that would be fain.

Taverns and ordinaries were his chiefest braveries,Golden angels there flew up and down;Riots were his best delights with stately feasting day and night,In court and city thus he won renown.