His doublet was of sturdy buff, 305
And tho’ not sword, yet cudgel-proof;
Whereby ’twas fitter for his use,
Who fear’d no blows, but such as bruise.

His breeches were of rugged woollen,
And had been at the siege of Bullen; 310
To old King Harry so well known,
Some writers held they were his own. 
Thro’ they were lin’d with many a piece
Of ammunition bread and cheese,
And fat black-puddings, proper food 315
For warriors that delight in blood. 
For, as we said, he always chose
To carry vittle in his hose,
That often tempted rats and mice
The ammunition to surprise:  320
And when he put a hand but in
The one or t’ other magazine,
They stoutly in defence on’t stood,
And from the wounded foe drew blood;
And ‘till th’ were storm’d and beaten out, 325
Ne’er left the fortify’d redoubt. 
And tho’ Knights Errant, as some think,
Of old did neither eat nor drink,
Because, when thorough desarts vast,
And regions desolate, they past, 330
Where belly-timber above ground,
Or under, was not to be found,
Unless they graz’d, there’s not one word
Of their provision on record;
Which made some confidently write, 335
They had no stomachs, but to fight. 
’Tis false:  for Arthur wore in hall
Round table like a farthingal,
On which with shirt pull’d out behind,
And eke before, his good Knights din’d. 340
Though ’twas no table, some suppose,
But a huge pair of round trunk hose;
In which he carry’d as much meat
As he and all the Knights cou’d eat,
When, laying by their swords and truncheons, 345
They took their breakfasts, or their nuncheons. 
But let that pass at present, lest
We should forget where we digrest,
As learned authors use, to whom
We leave it, and to th’ purpose come, 350