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Not far from hence, near to a craggy cliff,

 At the north end of this distressèd town,

 There doth stand a lowly house,

 Ruggedly builded, and in it a cave

 In which an ugly giant now doth won,

 Ycleped Barbarossa: in his hand

 He shakes a naked lance of purest steel,

 With sleeves turned up; and him before he wears

 A motly garment, to preserve his clothes

 From blood of those knights which he massacres

 And ladies gent: without his door doth hang

 A copper basin on a prickant spear;

 At which no sooner gentle knights can knock,

 But the shrill sound fierce Barbarossa hears,

 And rushing forth, brings in the errant knight,

 And sets him down in an enchanted chair;

 Then with an engine, which he hath prepared,

 With forty teeth, he claws his courtly crown;

 Next makes him wink, and underneath his chin

 He plants a brazen piece of mighty bord,

 And knocks his bullets round about his cheeks;

 Whilst with his fingers, and an instrument

 With which he snaps his hair off, he doth fill

 The wretch's ears with a most hideous noise:

 Thus every knight-adventurer he doth trim,

 And now no creature dares encounter him.

[Beaumont, Francis, The Knight of the Burning Pestle, Act 3, Sc. 4.]