I am. He was the last man that won a prize in the tilt-yard
(which is now a common street before Whitehall). You see the
broken lance that lies there by his right foot; he shiver'd that
lance of his adversary all to pieces; and bearing himself, look
you, Sir, in this manner, at the same time he came within the
target of the gentleman who rode against him, and taking him with
incredible force before him on the pommel of his saddle, he in
that manner rid the turnament over, with an air that shewed he
did it rather to perform the rule of the lists, than expose his
enemy; however, it appeared he knew how to make use of a victory,
and with a gentle trot he marched up to a gallery where their
mistress sat (for they were rivals) and let him down with
laudable courtesy and pardonable insolence. I don't know but it
might be exactly where the coffee-house is now.

"You are to know this my ancestor was not only of a military
genius, but fit also for the arts of peace, for he played on the
bass-viol as well as any gentleman at court; you see where his
viol hangs by his basket-hilt sword. The action at the tilt-yard
you may be sure won the fair lady, who was a maid of honour, and
the greatest beauty of her time; here she stands the next
picture. You see, Sir, my great-great-great-grandmother has on
the new-fashion'd petticoat, except that the modern is gather'd
at the waist; my grandmother appears as if she stood in a large
drum, whereas the ladies now walk as if they were in a go-cart.
For all this lady was bred at court, she became an excellent
country-wife, she brought ten children, and when I shew you the
library, you shall see in her own hand (allowing for the
difference of the language) the best receipt now in England both
for an hasty-pudding and a white-pot.