The long room was thick with the smoke of tobacco and the smoke of powder, through which the many torches burned yellow.

Upon the great table wine had been spilt, and dripped to swell a red pool upon the floor.

Underneath the table, still grasping his empty tankard, lay the first of my lord's guests to fall, an up-river Burgess with white hair.

The rest of the company were fast reeling to a like fate.

Young Hamor had a fiddle, and, one foot upon a settle, the other upon the table, drew across it a fast and furious bow.
Master Pory, arrived at the maudlin stage, alternately sang a slow and melancholy ditty and wiped the tears from his eyes with elaborate care.