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Likewise he had Sons and Daughters;And, as good men do, he sateAt his board by these surrounded,Flourishing in fair estate.And, while thus in open dayOnce he sate, as old books say,A blast was utter'd from the Horn,Where by the Castle-gate it hung forlorn.
'Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace!He is come to claim his right:Ancient Castle, Woods, and MountainsHear the challenge with delight.Hubert! though the blast be blownHe is helpless and alone:Thou hast a dungeon, speak the word!And there he may be lodg'd, and thou be Lord.
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