Nor have we one or two kinds of drunkards only, but eight kinds.
- The first is ape drunke; and he leapes, and singes, and hollowes, and danceth for the heavens;
- The second is lion drunke; and he flings the pots about the house, calls his hostesse whore, breakes the glasse windowes with his dagger, and is apt to quarrell with anie man that speaks to him;
- The third is swine drunke; heavie, lumpish, and sleepie, and cries for a little more drinke, and a fewe more cloathes;
- The fourth is sheepe drunk; wise in his conceipt, when he cannot bring foorth a right word;
- The fifth is mawdlen drunke; when a fellowe will weepe for kindnes in the midst of ale, and kisse you, saying, ‘By God, captaine, I love thee. Goe thy wayes; thou dost not thinke so often of me as I doo thee; I would (if it pleased God) I could not love thee as well as I doo;’ and then he puts his finger in his e
ye, and cryes;
- The sixth is Martin drunke; when a man is drunke, and drinkes himselfe sober ere he stirre;
- The seventh is goate drunke; when, in his drunkennes, he hath no minde but on lecherie;
- The eighth is fox drunke – when he is craftie drunke, as manie of the Dutchmen bee, that will never bargaine but when they are drunke.
All these species, and more, I have seen practised in one company at one sitting; when I have been permitted to remain sober amongst them, only to note their several humours.
—from The Unfortunate Traveller and Other Works
(originally published in September 16, 2014 newsletter)