17th Earl of Oxford(1 of 2) 3rd of March, 1582: Thomas Knyvet and I duelled, blades unbated. He harboured a grudge over my affair with his niece, though the boy Edward was a year old already.
The fight left one of my men dead, and Knyvet and I both injured. Excepting the corpse I had the worst of it, hence my subsequent poetic references to being lame. The wounds healed eventually but I was never free from the halt, and it ached like the devil whenever bad weather approached. [cont'd]
