'No sooner were the doubtful people set, The match made up, and all that would had bet, But straight the skilful judges of the play; Brought forth their sharp-heel'd warriors, and they Were both in linnen bags--as if 'twere meet, Before they died, to have their winding-sheet. Into the pit they're brought, and being there, Upon the stage, the Norfolk Chanticleer Looks stoutly at his ne'er before seen foe, And like a challenger began to crow, And clap his wings, as if he would display His warlike colours, which were black and grey. 'Meantime, the wary Wisbich walks and breathes His active body, and in fury wreathes His comely crest, and often with a sound, He whets his angry beak upon the ground. This done, they meet, not like that coward breed Of Aesop; these can better fight than feed: They scorn the dunghill; 'tis their only prize TO DIG FOR PEARLS WITHIN EACH OTHER'S EYES. 'They fought so nimbly that 'twas hard to know, E'en to the skill'd, whether they fought or no; If that the blood which dyed the fatal floor Had not borne witness of 't. Yet fought they more; As if each wound were but a spur to prick Their fury forward. Lightning's not more quick, Or red, than were their eyes: 'twas hard to know Whether 'twas blood or anger made them so. I'm sure they had been out had they not stood More safe by being fenced in with blood. Thus they vied blows; but yet (alas!) at length, Altho' their courage was full tried, their strength And blood began to ebb. Their wings, which lately at each blow they clapp'd (As if they did applaud themselves), now flapp'd. And having lost th' advantage of the heel, Drunk with each other's blood, they only reel. From either eyes such drops of blood did fall As if they wept them for their funeral. And yet they fain would fight; they came so near, Methought they meant into each other's ear TO WHISPER WOUNDS; and when they could not rise, They lay and look'd blows into each other's eyes. But now the tragic part! After this fit, When Norfolk cock had got the best of it, And Wisbich lay a dying, so that none, Tho' sober, but might venture Seven to One; Contracting, like a dying taper, all His strength, intending with the blow to fall, He struggles up, and having taken wind, Ventures a blow, and strikes the other blind!