The battailes of Crescey, and Poictiers vnder the leading of King Edward the Third of that name; and his sonne Edward Prince of Wales, named the Blacke. By Charles Allen, sometime of Sidney Colledge in Cambridge.

THE BATTAILE OF CRESCEY.

TIs true, my hand blacke Edward cann't enrowle In honors brasen leaues, nor draw a line In his fam'd table, vnlesse Homers soule Were made by wondrous transmigra∣tion mine. I car'd not, though Pythagoras did misse In all Philosophie, if true in this.

Yet may I draw somenobler Genius forth, Whose high-borne streines are privileg'd from time, Who in the handling of a theame of worth, Can drowne fames trumpet with a mighty rime, And soaring notes impt with a muses wing, High as the Bards that Agincourt did sing.

Let Tourney quake, great Edward's at her gate, And like a meteor menaceth her walls, Tourney may glory in her better fate If by the hand of Edward, Tourney falls: For 'tis a comfort by great hands to die, And thus to fall is next to victory.

But now the enemy is on his way (Navar, the French, and the Bohemian King,) To take the hungry Lion from his prey: Three Kings but named might some terrour bring. But titles neuer were by iudgement feard, Had all the hoast beene Kings he had not car'd.

And that the French might know his perso'nall worth, Hee dard De Valois to a single fight; And if not that, to draw a hundred forth, That fewer slaughters might decide the right. A good King knowes (cause all depend on him) To loose a subiect is to loose a limbe.

I will not question, if a leader should Be personally seene in such an action, It is enough for me that Edward would, His precedent is reall satisfaction. A King's a God on earth, and this i'le call Edwards divinity; one dye for all.

But such defiances are vaine to those, Who more their numbers than their valour trust, Now armie armie, all shall all oppose, The French will haue it so the English must. Edward appoints a day: 'tis brauely done To tell thy foman when thou wilt come on.

Twas genuine valour in our grand-sires, who Proclaimed when, and what they meant to doe, And scornd like theeues to steale vpon a foe, A foe vnwarned is vnarmed too. By sculking out to beat an enemy, Doth pilfer honour, and steale victory.

The cloud of war was ready to dissolue To showers of blood: the ayre affrighted feard The blowes it should receiue, now all resolue To goe, or send to death: but all is cleard. What was presaged blacke proues a faire day, A Ladies breath dispelld the storme away.

Sister to Phillip, mother to Edwards wife, The Ladie Iane De Valois interceedes, A cloistered Nun sets period to the strife, Or else whole troopes had di'd, and now none bleeds. Troopes of that force, that had they joind in one, Had throwne a palenesse on the Turkish moone.

Coriolanus armd with fury dard Bid a defiance to vngratefull Rome, And would haue humbled her proud hills, nor feard Had the grim Father of Romes founder come. His mothers louing prayers make him yeeld, Her armes, not Romes, must make him quit the field

Edward for England hasts puts out of pay His forreine aids; he finds his treasuries Staru'd by his Offi'cers, since be went away: The Dutch shall not share in his victories, The English onely shall partake in glory, None else be quoted in their honourd storie.

Nor is it wisedome, where no treasures are, To hope for succours from a strange supply: Mony's the nerue and ligament of War, It makes them fight, and keepes from mutuny. Leaders are soules, Armies the bodies, coine, The vitall spirits that doe both combine.

Now Mars is chained in his iron caue, And sterne Enyo hath set vp her lance, They in more strict restreints more wildly raue, And are made sharper by their abstinence. Let fury take her course, she will proue mild, To stay her gallop will make fury wild.

But soone they quit their prison and reioyce To try in Brittaine wars vncertaine chance, Edward for Mountford stands, Phillip for Blois Who both plead right in that inheritance. Weapons are drawne on both sides to cut out Their rights, but are put vp before they fought.

And now two Cardinals, (a Nun before) Strike a faire truce, and are the shields of France, As Fabius of Rome their words fence more Than armes; but when the English next aduance, And march to Cressey, then the French shall know, Their Church hoth not a gard for such a blow.

But hungry Mars once more to prison must, And fast from blood, nor dare once dreame of fight, Their tooles of death for want of vse shall rust, Whilst plowmen stewd in sweat make theirs looke bright, Vnder a checkerd shadow Tytrus singes, Whilst peace fans choller with her siluer wings.

Yet though their helmets gather rust, and are The shops, where spiders weaue their bowels forth, Yet let not those braue heads, that did them weare, In rusty idlenesse entombe their worth. The spirits are extinct, and valour dyes, Without their soueraigne diet▪ exercise.

Which mou'd our second Arthur to erect A table, least their Magnanimitie Should languish in dull coldnesse, and neglect Of practising their armes, and cheualrie; For exercise, and emulation are The parents, that beget children for war.

Fam'd Arthur worthy of best pens, but that Truth is so far before 'tis out of sight; Thy acts are made discourse for those that chat Of Hamptons cutthrote or the red-rose Knight. Yet there is truth enough in thy faire storie Without false legends to enshrine thy glorie.

Some monkish pen hath giuen thy fame more blowes Then all the Saxons could thy body lend; The hand a sacrifice to Vulcan owes, That killd the truth by forgeries it pend. When truth and falshood interlaced lye, All are thought falshoods by posteritie.

Yet in the raigne of this first sonne of Mars, All is not sternely rugged, some delights Sweete amorous sports to sweeten tarter-wars, And then a dance began the garter Knights. They swell with loue, that are with vallour fild, And Venus doues may in a head peice build.

As Sarum beauteous Countesse in a dance Her loosened garter vnawares let fall, Renouned Edward tooke it vp by chance, Which gaue that order first originall. Thus saying to the wondring standers by. There shall be honour to this silkenty.

Some the beginning from first Richard bring, (Counting too meanelie of this pedegree) When he at Acon tyde a leather string About his Soldiers legges, whose memorie Might stir their vallour vp, yet choose you whether You'll Edwards silke prefer, or Richards leather.

But they take not a scruple of delight, More than's by nature giuen torellish paine: At once; your welcome pleasure and good night, Before 'tis settled, 'tis expelled againe. As dogs of Nilus drinke, a snatch, and gone, Sweets must be tasted, and not glutted on.

By this time France is ranke, her vaines are full, And ripe to be let blood, deaths instruments Are keene edged, which before were dull, And fit to execute the mindes intents. The furies rowsed from their loathed shelues, For former fastings now may glut themselues.

The sword, the shield, the battaile axe, the speare Are taken from the well-stor'd armory, And that which iustly shall beget most feare, The well experienc'd English archery, Who knew to conquer: Parthiae cann't show Such high-raisd trophies, as our English bow.

Tall ships are rig'd▪ and with provision stord, Stay but a while, till a faire wind shall rise, Young Iason had not such with him a board, When bound to Colchos for the golden prize. The very ships when they were lanching forth, Did seeme to dance to haue in them such worth.

The sailes, as if with child, grew big with wind, And long to haue flown ore the briny ford: The rising waues for feare themselues declind, Supposing they were Neptunes were a bord. Or else for feare Neptune kept downe the maine, Least seeing them it would haue changd the reigne.

The vessels are vnlading of their fraight, Richer than euer cross'd the seas before, The earth with longing did appeare to waite, As proud to haue their foot-steps on the shore: But the displeased sea growne angry, now, Vext for this losse, fretted her wrincked brow.

Bnt if wise nature had inform'd the earth, That all her vert should into gules be turnd: Or of that blood she should teeme such a birth As shee had of the Giants, she had mournd. Or else suncke downe vnder the brinie flood, Then had they fought in a red sea of blood.

Some thirty thousand foot, great Edward led, With these were ioynd twentie fiue hundred horse, The French the fields with fiue such numbers spred: Yet heated by their wrongs he beards their force. Not Clements mediation can asswage, The iust incensed flame of Edwards rage.

Their hosts before twice did their weapons shake, Twice did their hosts returne without a stroke, They truce at Tourney, and at Malstroict make A truce twice made the French as often broke. Th' vnmanlie for fee of fidelitie Is worst eclipse in spheare of Maiestie.

Euils are link'd together, now he spills Baccos, and Cliffons blood in Normandie: Nor can one place confine his rage, he kills Edwards approued friend in Picardie. Our friends are parts make vs entirelie one, What's left of vs is lame, when they are gone.

But that which most aggreeued Edward strooke, And to his honour seem'd the greatest staine, Philip too hautily the homage tooke, Which Edward did to him for Aquitaine. When you depresse great spirits, that aspire, You throw down balls to make thē rise the higher

It is a trespasse against martiall right, To take vp wrongs on trust, and not repay: When beareing old ones new ones doe inuite, There Clement cannot Edwards feruour stay. Since he is iustlie fir'd, lesse shall be done Now by a Pope, then had beene by a Nun.

March on: and now at Carentine they are, Great Cliffons hands are naild vpon her gates. This act shall make her feele th' extreme of war And wronged Cliffons hands shall spin her fates. Like a Petar they make her gates to fly, And ope a passage to her miserie.

But Carentine can now no longer hold, (For guilt is fearefull,) and the English are, Like heards of wolues amidst a fleecie fold; Wrong'd fauours turnd to furie will none saue. For drams of Cliffons blood, whole pounds are shed And hundreds are attonement for his head.

The walles that would haue garded them shall burne, And cause they shard in guilt, be razed downe: Edward the buildings doth to atomes turne, As if he would annihilate the towne. For that his corpes they of its rites beguile, The towne in flames is Cliffons funerall pile.

They take in Caen in Normandie, and aduance Forward (for no controlement yet bids stay:) Almost to Paris, and the heart of France, Whilst sword and fire doe vsher them their way. Though fire was giuen but for the heate, & light, Yet man can teach this element to fight.

And now tis tyme to bid the English stand, Which is not done by bearding them in fight: They tumble downe the bridges, and command, Th' impetuous stremes to counter check their might Edward must cumbat, if he will passe o're, Now against water, as with fire before.

But whilst the English are in search to finde Where it is fordable, and how they might Gaine to the other side, the French diuind By weake coniectures that this stay was flight▪ Thus doe we build assurance on a waue, And easily beleeue what wee would haue.

Weake man, (the welstord shop of vanities, Dreame of a shade, and shadow of a dreame) Erects presumptions on vncertainties And is in feares, or hopes fondly extreme. Thoughts airie castles in a breath doe fall, And hopes which highest fly flag first of all.

But long the streame cannot there iourney bound, Not with his winding armes the passage keepe▪ On Blanch Laque vpon some the English found, A ford, which nature had not made so deepe. For nature durst not be rebellious To stay, whom heau'n would haue victorious.

Edward was first that entrd on the ford, (Like to great Philips greater sonne, when he Fought against Porus) with this mouing word, He that doth loue me let him follow me. It was a word so forciue, that it might Make valour wonders doe, and basenes fight,

Philip sixe thousand foot, a thousand horse Sends to the ford, whom Godmar lead along, To lay a rub before the English course: But opposition maketh strength more strong. For vertue gathers heate by hauing foes, Valour is dull'd, and numb'd, when none oppose,

As when the sea hath artificiall bounds, And damms haue laid command vpon the waues, Not rebellike to ouerrun the grounds; More madded with these stops, it wildlie raues. And valours of that one ey'd Captaines mind, 'Twill make a passage if it cannot find.

Furie is not by full resistance tam'd, Voyding must ward it: he is mad will stay A beare, or bull broke loose: furie inflam'd Is violent on all that's in its way. What stands before, is offerd to the eye, In the true nature of an enemie.

And now S. George: The French are mowed downe, Like men ripe for the sword, the English won The quitted bancke; Godmar is ouerthrowne, And when no hands to fight, hath feet to run, And least their armie should too great be thought, Leades backe too thousand fewer then he brought

The passage is theit owne: for Crescey now, Which in his mothers right was Edwards owne, Crescey is famed for that ouerthrow, Where horror in his deepest die was showne. To be in view of that which is ones right. Would make a heart for lesse than Edwards fight.

In three Battalias the King drew out His men, by valliant commanders leade, Wales her young lion in the vangard fought, Which like a herse in forme was ordered. It were enough to make a coward fly, To see this emblem of mortalitie.

With him was Hare court, Warwicke, and La ware, Beaucham, and Bourchier, worthies who knew well The vse of hand, and head: the next troopes are Lead by Northampton, Rosse, and Arundell. Cheifs, who like sowles, could the dull spirits stir In the chill hart of coldest follower.

The third Battalia King Edward lead, His soldiars might vnder his conduct be Prowd and secure: so Mars stood in the head Of his robustious Thracian companie. The three Battalias seemd, as they did stand, The three fork'd thunder in Ioues flaming hand.

The English armie is clos'd vp behind, And barricadod that they cannot flye: Their horses tooke away put them in mind That they were there to conquer, or to dye. 'Tis policie to bar the meanes of flight, Necessitie will make a coward fight.

Couragious Edward spurres their valour on, And cheeres his sprightfull soldiars; where he came, His breath did kindle valour, where was none; And where it found a sparke, it made a flame. Armies of fearefull hearts will scorne to yeeld, If lyons be their Captaines in the field.

Through all the armie this tenthworthy rid, With a white rod in his victorious hand, As if to chastise fortune, if shee did But dare his vncontrold designes withstand. 'Though fooles, and cowards at the name do quake The wise, and valiant their fortune make.

The King (as strength ioyned with wisedom should) Set targets in the front, to saue his men From Genoan Crosbowes; so wise Rome of old Gaue crownes to them that saued a citisen. Offensiue rashnesse she did not commend, 'Tis the first act of valour to defend.

Which made the old King of Bohemia say, The English marshalling speakes this intent: Either to loose their liues, or win the day, To get a trophie, or a monument. A soldiar hath two aimes, to win or dye, A Coward two, quickely to win, or fly.

Now Sauois Earle to make the conquest full, Brings in a thousand to the enemie: To share in his hop'd fortunes, and to pull A pinion from the wing of victorie. But Amie heere ••is debt to nature paies, And weareth Cypresse for triumphant bayes.

Blacke was the day, the Chaos was thus blacke, Before 'twas said, Let there be light; the clouds Opend their watrie treasures, which did cracke They were so full: all is insable shrowds, The symptomes of trew griefe were in the spheare As if it meant to be chiefe mourner heere.

The Sun at first halfe scared with the sight, Behind the Moone with halfe his body lies: So soone as he was quitted of this fright, He shot his beames full on the Frenchmens eyes. And 'gainst them let his raies like arrowes fly, As if he sided with our archerie.

Then on a cloud an arch triumphall drew, And lookt vpon that watrie lookinglasse. That he himselfe might by reflection view, Whether his late Eclips had changed his face. Or else it was to let the English know, How much they were endebted to the bow.

The lightning cuts the ayre with flaming wing, Willing to aide the Sunne in that darke day; And heau'ns great shot doth in the welkin ring, And with loud bellowings vshers the fray. As if for those great Lords which here shall fall, Heau'n ow'd a volly to the funerall.

Shoales of ill-boding Rauens (as if the sky Had not beene darke enough) a shadow made Darke as the clouds; that though the glorious eye Of heau'n had shind, they had beene in the shade. Foules ioyntly met to feast vpon the dead, The guests were tombes where men were buried.

The pikes are orderd, ensignes are displaid, And menace braue extremity; the light Of glittering helmes and wauing streamers made A day seem cleere, which before seemed night. Pale feare had amorous lookes, and all the while Terrour lookt Iouely, and death seemd to smile,

The shafts headed with death, and wingd with speed, Now to the arched engine they apply, Which as if hungry on mans flesh to feed, With greedy certainty appear'd to flye. Their bowes with such a certainty they drew, As Phaebus did when he the Python slew.

We to the grey goose wing more conquests owe, Than to the Monks inuention; for then We cull'd out mighty armes to draw the bow, Striplings oft serue vs now, then onely men. For these hot engins equall mischiefe can, Discharged by a boy, or by a man.

Bullets, because they vndiscerned flie, Worke lesse effects of feare: but dangers seene, If they cannot be fenc'd, more terrifie; At startled sence reason hath startled beene. Amaz'd to haue so many shafts in sight, In hope to ward them, they forget to fight.

A well-selected Archer can let flye Thrice for one shot of the best musketeere: And barbed arrowes gall more eagerly, Where they once light, they second fresh-wounds there, And mad the Horse, who will not forward stir, More sensible of them, than of the spur.

Who madded, as they backard fly, doe fall Foule on their owne, and doe their seruice there: Whilst their owne Horses their owne quarters mall, They both themselues, and enemies must feare. Thus broke, vvith an vnvvilling courtesie, They ope a passage to the enemy.

The musketeeres discharge but in one ranke At once; but whole squadrons of Archers may: These wound at randome, they but at point blanke; And when both sides, are now engag'd in fray, At push of Pike; behind the armed foot, Though muskets cannot, yet the Bowes may shoot.

At the fam'd Battaile of Lepanto, when Valiant young Austria vvwas admirall; The Turkish Archery did slay more men, Than by our Peeces of all sorts did fall. And the white faith of history cann't show, That e're the Musket yet could beat the Bow.

The Genoan Bowes, to make the French horse way In the first point are ranged: but the showers, Auxiliarie heau'n distild that day, Corrupt the Genoan strings, but hurt not ours. Small things worke much, where victory is due, And onely hurt your foe, though might hurt you.

Novv since their Bowes vnserviceable be, The King commanded Allanson to rent, And beate them from the point: thus oft we see Actions condemnd for some ill accident. Which may miscarry, when tis not the crime Of him, that did attempt them, but the time.

Meane men are often in small faults impeacht: Greatnesse aboue the clouds so high asshrind; It cannot by Ioues greatest shot be reacht, And laughs at the low vollies of the wind. Wolfe-bane 'mongst roses leaues its deadly sent, Faults amongst great men find no punishment.

But th' English of their strings more care did take, (VVhose winged pursivants deaths message beare.) Some (through loues seat the liuer, passage make, As if our Archers had beene Cupids there. Some strike lifes seat, the hart, so that you can Scarse tell, if death did shoot them, or a man.

As when the colder Region of the ayre, Moulds Raine to haile-shot, the relenting tree Of the plump God, lusty before, and faire, Looseth her rubies with heau'ns battery. Thus fell the French: for shoot, though in the darke Tis hard to misse, when the whole fieid's a marke.

The Genoan tempest is dispell'd: their force Diuided wins no feare; a mighty flood Cut in small rills is weakned in his course, And parted strength is easily withstood. Diuide, and then you conquer: for though none Can breake a sheafe of darts, they may break one.

Disorder's next to ruine, and destroyes Th' essence of creatures: order did create, Then by the rule of contrarieties, Tis a disorder doth annihilate. By this ill shaped enemy doe fall, Both bodies politicke, and naturall.

Continu'd, or collected bodies are Weakned by their disvnion; but doe Get strength by vn'ty; beames reflex'd are far More hot, because they are vnited: so We see in bodies ly••ened by a soule, The vnion of the parts conserues the whole.

Divisions ruine Realmes: the Monarchies Of Mars his Rome, and Macedon thus fall; Christendomes whip, that now doth tyrannize, Shall thus returne to her originall. Factions those commas are, that bring the state Of Kingdomes to their period, and fate.

The hot Count Alanson with fiery horse Scoures o're the plaines with an impetuousnesse, Which eas'ly made it a short-winded course: As it was sayd of great Themistocles. His heat was quickly cooled, and did draw To a too sodaine end, like fire in straw.

The generous-mettald courser (as if we Had beene too slow on foot) is taught to fight: Wee borrow speed to meet our enemy, And flie to our reuenge: and to doe right Vnto the actiue French; old Thessaly Won not more Garlonds than their Chevalrie.

Armies (if we Iphicrates will heare) Are of themselues dull bodies, nor can weeld Their sullen weights, vnlesse the horse be three, Which are ihe feet: indeed the horse at field. Are best in actions of celeritie, In expeditions, and discouery.

But horse 'gainst resolute foot can littlewin, The mounting is more firme, the aimes more sure; For footmen haue their mouing from within, They from their horse: yet horse are more secure In flight, and haue (as Xenophon did say) But the aduantage, when they run away.

The sprightly Count is quickly out of breath, Like to heau'ns lightning as soone out as seene, A gallant flash before the night of death; Those edges soonest turne, that are most keene. A sober moderation stands sure, No violent extremities endure.

A storme of Enhlish Arrowes breakes their course, And routs their troopes: stout Alanson's engaged VVithin the lists of death; the furious horse (Impatient patients of their wounds) enraged Dismount their riders, vext, that they did beare Men, that did spur them to those dangers there.

But carefull Phillip his Battalia brings To disengage his cousen: and foresight And prouidence in Kings doth, make them Kings; Kingdomes are Chaoses without their light. And in Niles mysticke characters, the eye More than the scepter noted maiesty.

Suffolke as wary, on his battaile drew, To ayd his Prince, and checke the King of France: Whilst rusty horrour through the armies flew, And dealt his dole of death: indiff'rent chance. Durst not yet choose her side on which to be, And no lesse wauering was victory.

Reason it selfe did thinke it fit to leaue them To their wild passions, and let fury guide: Now choler of their reason doth bereaue them: If fury be at home, reason's deni'd. Madnesse and anger differ but in this, This is short madnesse, that long anger is.

The swords forgat to glister any more, As loth to lend their light to that darke shade; They'r double dyde in a deepe graine of gore, Youl'd thinke they had so many Comets made. So many by their fatall seisures dide, That Atropos might lay her knife a side.

Here a hand seuerd, there an eare was cropt, Here a chap falne, and there an eye put out. Here was an arme lopt off, there a nose dropt: Here halte a man, and there a lesse peece fought. Like to dismembred statues they did stand, VVhich had beene mangled by times yron hand.

There one (as if vnwilling should be spent, Cost to make Marble seeme to liue) doth meane To be himselfe a cheaper monument. VVhilst slaine, he still vpon his sword doth leane. And for the seruice he did there that day, Himselfe stood there as his owne statua.

Heere one, all of whose selfe was as one wound, (Oftner transfixt than mighty Scaeuas shield) Sometimes himselfe, sometimes he beats the ground, Or clings so fast as if he'de winne the field. So many wayes to death, yet doth not die, The soule vncertaine which way it should flie.

There two vnited gores doe make one flood, Wherein the duellers doe saile to death: Thus Elephants, and Dragons mixe their blood, When both doe vanquish, & both loose their breath Their angry bloods did in two channells run, But friendly now in death flow but in one.

King Edward like a clowd hung on a hill, (As Affricks Captaine said of Fabius) Marking those gamesters; readie to destill, When need should bid him be propitious. And whilst be wisely watched for their sakes, Not onely viewed the sport, but kept the stakes.

As an old Eagle pearched on a tree (After the Sunne hath ratified her brood By their vnwaur'ring eyes) is proud to see Her royall birds inbrue themselues in blood. So stood the King, whose heart within him glows To see his Eaglet flesht vpon his foes.

But as Ioues trees, that crowne proud Idas brow, Stoope at stiffe Eols oft repeated rore: And many drops can eate a Marble through; So numbers iterated beare valour ore. What? can a faintnesse fall on such? it can, Edward may saint, though he be more then man.

Nor the intelligence, that moues the spheare, Nor spheare it selfe, doe any faintnesse proue: Because there is no contrainence there, Nat'ralls mou'd nat'rallie may euer moue. If to the center were an immense space, A stone for euer could maintaine the race.

But whilst our soules haue vnion with clay, Our limbs in vpward motions are prest By their owne strugling waight another way; Exhausted spirits bid our motions rest. No mortall's indefatigable, then Had they not fainted, who had thought them men.

Now as the English houer on the brinke Of ruine, readie now to make a fraight For gristley Charons leaking boate, and sinke Vnder the pressure of their numerous weight. Vnto the King regardfull suffolke sent: He knowes to win, that knowes how to preuent.

The messenger returnes; his anfwer this: Whilst the Prince liues, his highnesse will not care, Nor thinke of ayd: he saith, the day is his, As lawfull as his birthright; nor will share In his vnriuald fame: the field must be Either his graue, or stage of victorie.

Nor was he cruell in this act: his sonne Now for his honour fought: and in this strife Aid had tooke from't; therfore the King sends none, To shew he valu'd honour aboue life. To be indulgent to his life, had beene To kill his honour, and the greater sinne.

What distance is in man? some are as much Beneath an others vertue as aboue The worst of beasts: this message cannot touch This man of men, nor his fixt spirit moue. But should you it vnto a coward tell, It had beene deathstroke, and the passing bell.

It was to Edward, and this Edward could As well put off himselfe, as put on feare: It were a ••inne to worth, if any should Not thinke him dreadles, and vndanted there. For he was heire apparent to the state, And feare had prou'd him illigitimate.

Looke, as the earth foundation of all Our staring buildings; yet it selfe hath none: But its owne selfe secures it selfe from fall, And hath no buttresses to leane vpon. For whilst graue bodies to the Center run, They hug that poynt, & poise themselues thereon

Thus an heroick soule lodgd in a brest, In which are centerd all the lines of worth: Closely compacted on it selfe doth rest, And for its selfe its owne supplies drawes forth. Edwards owne worth, if no supportes come on, Is its owne base to stay it selfe vpon.

Hope in great actions is too weake a hold, And yeelds her enterteiner to his foe: When churlish winds with testie Neptune scold, We cut the Cables, and let anchors goe. Then hope to win, when hope of ayd is gone, The way to safetie is to looke for none.

If we had any cowards in the field, They purge their aguish passion, at the sight To see their Prince menace his flaming shield, Like to the Sunne; and speare, like Comet light. Where shaddowes terminate, light issues in. 'Tis first, to dare to fight; tis next, to win.

But if there were amongst our English hoast, Within the colder region of whole blood There dwelt perpetuallice, and shiuring frost, Which could not be disolu'd: they did this good. For euery English that did basely dye, Bequeath'd his foe his feare for legacie.

The game of death was but a iest before, Turn'd earnest now: before they did but try To vse their weapons; there they did no more, But meditate, here practse how to dye. And if stearne Mars had left his sanguine throne, Here he had met more Diomeds then one.

Mortality till now had but defraid Some trifling reck'nings on deaths bloody score, Some Items not worth speaking: now Death's paid Whole summes; & Charons boat which leak'd before Had suncke right downe; had not his Stygian flood Beene made more saileable, thickned with blood.

Armour as if 'twere sensible of smart, Falls to the ground: his flesh, who did it beare, Is his owne coat of proofe to ward his heart: And their owne armes are the best targets there. Weapons are dulld, but stomackes keener are, And hearts are better-pointed then they were.

In Affricke, neere heauens porter Atlas side, A Lionesse beseeg'd by men, and hownds, There makes a breach, where it is most denid; As free from hope of life, as feare of wounds. Led by dispaire, shee scoures about the plame, Thirstie of blood, as Affrica of raine.

So marchd the Prince with his blacke regiment, (Assisted by the armes of valiant Lords) And top'd the gaudy poppies, as they went, And strooke such terror, that before their swords Did seize, the French stood trembling; thus an oke Shakes with that wind vshers the thunder stroke.

For they like thunder shot their furie through, Where solidnes did most resistance make: And crumble into dust, what would not bow, Whereon they stand, and thence aduanced take Their stately flight, on humbled backes we rise, And on the wings of ruine conquest flies.

Thus Rome in a sedition was tooke, VVhen Arnulph came there mutinies to quell: His souldiers shoutings such amazements strooke, That from the wall the startled Romans fell. Their heapes were scaling ladders, and their fall Made him the staires on which he clim'd the wall.

The Boheme King in head of all his men Encounters with dehruction, and dares Death to a duell, which did meete him then, And with deepe cutts cancell his date of yeares. Disarmd him not, he still his weapon held As if his ghost should fight, when he was kild.

Kings, vpon whom many depend, haue vs'd T'haue danger at a distance, nor at all Tread within reach; the Theban chiefe accusd Himselfe, for being neere an arrows fall. For Kings are those chiefe stones, which arches knit, Let one be dislocated, all will flitt.

A loyall subiect hath nor life, nor breath But whats infus'd, and breathed from the Prince: Who if he rashly shall encounter death, Stifles too cruellie his influeuce. And 'tis a problem whether thus to dye, Or greater rashnes be, or crueltie.

Leaders without disgrace haue sometimes fled, He that did flye this day, may next day fight: Great Amurath had not beene vanquished, Had not Huniades beene sau'd by flight. Wherelife more than our death auailes the state, Valour by flight may looke for better fate.

But where it doth not, leaders must not moue, But cope with danger: here a Captaines flight Reads basenesse to his men, and coward loue Of an ignoble life; in such a flight. A valliant Diomed will rather dye, And scorne to stir, though Nestor bids him flye.

Twice was the King of France beate off his horse, By Henault movnted vp, as oft did rise: And acted to the height of single force, He did so noblic fight, so well aduise. He seemd his armies hand, and armies head, He fought like Scaeua, and like Cesar led.

The valliaut King still wrastles with his fate, As if he would vntwist, what that had weau'd: Deeming the web of fate had beene like that, VVith which the Grecian dame her loues deceiu'd. Flesh cannot breake the threds, the fates haue spun Like Narses web, theirs cannot be vndone,

Nor Frances strength nor fortune can preuaile, Fortune hath left no refuge but to flye: The King turnd head, and all his men turnd taile, And leaue at once the field aud victorie. Soone turnd the King, the armie turnd as soone, Thus a small rudder turnes a Galeone.

The King congratulates his sonne for this Faire earnest of his future victories, And sealeth vp his language with a kisse: VVith mute expressions the Prince replies. Silence hath Rhetoricke and veiles are best, To portr••••••t that, which cannot be exprest.

Wars greater tempest had forgat to blow, And horrors thicker clowdes were driu'n away; But lighter mists, and weaker blasts did now Appeare to dim the honour of the day. Thus when a roring storme hath ceasd to raue, A trembliug noyse still murmurs on the waue.

When the next morne had blusht to see the field Looke redder then her selfe, in purple dight: Some scatterd troopes, as willing to be kild, Came rather to a slanghter, then a fight. If the sound bodies of whole armes faile, 'Tis ruine for sore members to assaile.

For by the English breathing death, they're blowne Out of the field: and day drawne out of night: So many Lords of France were ouerthrowne, That yet I ne'r could iudge, if that I might Or a misfortune, or an honour call, That losse should alwaies on their nobles fall.

FINIS.