The battaile of Agincourt Fought by Henry the fift of that name, King of England, against the whole power of the French: vnder the raigne of their Charles the sixt, anno Dom. 1415. The miseries of Queene Margarite, the infortunate wife, of that most infortunate King Henry the sixt. Nimphidia, the court of Fayrie. The quest of Cinthia. The shepheards Sirena. The moone-calfe. Elegies vpon sundry occasions. By Michaell Drayton, Esquire.

THE BATTAILE OF AGJN COVRT.

CEas'd was the Thunder of those Drums view, which wak'd, Th'affrighted French their miseries to At Edwards name, which to that houre still quak'd, Their Salique Tables to the ground that threw, Yet were the English courages not slak'd, But the same Bowes, and the same Blade•• they drew, With the same Armes those weapons to aduance, Which lately lopt the Flower de liz of France.

Henry the fift, that man made out of fire, Th'Imperiall Wreath plac'd on his Princely browe; His Lyons courage stands not to enquire Which way old Henry came by it; or how At Pomfret Castell Richard should expire: What's that to him? he hath the Garland now; Let Bullenbrooke beware how he it wan, For Munmouth meanes to keepe it if he can.

That glorious day, which his great Father got, Vpon the Percies; calling to their ayde The Valiant Dowglas, that Herculian Scot, When for his Crowne at Shrewsbury they playde, Had quite dishartned eu'ry other plot, And all those Tempests quietly had layd, That not a cloud did to this Prince appeare, No former King had seene a skie so cleere.

Yet the rich Clergy felt a fearefull Rent, In the full bosome of their Church (whilst she A Monarchesse, immeasurably spent, Lesse then she was, and thought she might not be:) By Wickliffe and his followers; to preuent The growth of whose opinions, and to free That foule Aspersion, which on her they layd, She her strong'st wits must stir vp to her ayde.

When presently a Parliament is cal'd To set things steddy, that stood not so right, But that thereby the poore might be inthral'd, Should they bee vrg'd by those that were of might, That in his Empire, equitie enstaul'd, It should continue in that perfect plight; Wherefore to Lester, he t••' Assembly drawes, There to Inact those necessary Lawes.

In which one Bill (mongst many) there was red, Against the generall, and superfluous waste Of temporall Lands▪ (the Laity that had fed) Vpon the Houses of Religion caste,

Which for defence might stand the Realme in sted▪ Where it most needed, were it rightly plac'd; Which made those Church-men generally to feare, For all this calme, some tempest might be near.

And being right skilfull, quickly they foresawe, No shallow braines this businesse went about: Therefore with cunning they must cure this flawe; For of the King they greatly stood in doubt, Lest him to them, their opposites should drawe; Something must be thrust in, to thrust that out: And to this end they wisely must prouide, One, this great Engine, Clearkly that could guide.

Chichley, that sate on Canterburies See, A man well spoken, grauely stout, and wise, The most select (then thought of that could be,) To act what all the Prelacy deuise; (For well they knew, that in this bus'nesse, he Would to the vtmost straine his faculties;) Him lift they vp, their maine strēgth, to proue By some cleane slight this libell to remoue.

His braine in labour, gladly foorth would bring Somewhat, that at this needfull time might fit, The sprightly humour of this youthfull King, If his inuention could but light of it; His working soule pro••••cteth many a thing, Vntill at length out of the strength of wit, He found a warre with France must bee the vvay To dash this Bill, else threatning their decay.

Whilst vacant minds sate in their breasts at ea•• And the remembrance of their Conquests past, Vpon their fansies doth so strongly sease, As in their teeth their Cowardise is cast, Rehearsing to them those victorious dayes▪ The deeds of which, beyond their names should la•• That after ages, reading what was thei••s, Shall hardly thinke, those men had any Heires.

And to this point, premeditating well, A speech, (which chanc'd, the very point to cleau•• Aym'd, whatsoeuer the successe befell That it no roomth should for a second leaue, More of this Tittle then in hand to tell, If so his skill him did not much deceiue, And 'gaiust the King in publike should appeare•• Thus frames his speech to the Assembly there.

PA••don my boldnes, my Liedge Soueraigne L•• Nor your Dread presence let my speech offer Your milde attention, fauourably affoord, Which, such cleere vigour to my spirit shall lend, That▪ it shall set an edge vpon your Sword, To my demand▪ and make you to attend, Asking you, why▪ men train'd to Armes you •••• Your right in France yet suffering still to sleep••

Can such a Prince be in an Iland pent, An•• poorely thus shut vp within a Sea. When as your right includes that large extent, To 〈…〉〈…〉 Alpes your Empire forth to lay,

Can he be English borne▪ and is not bent To follow you, appoint you but the way, We'••e wade if we want ships, the waues to climme, In one hand hold ou•• swords, with th'other swim.

What time cōtrouls your braue great grādsirs claim To th'Realme of France, from Philip nam'd the faire Which to King Edward by his mother came, Queene Isaebel; that Philips onely heire, Which this short intermission doth not maime, But if it did, as he, so yours repaire; That where his blood in right preuailed not, In spight of hell, yet by his Sword he got.

What set the Conquerour, by their Salique Lawes, Those poore decrees their Parliaments could make, He entred on in iustnesse of his Cause, To make good, what he dar'd to vndertake, And once in Action he stood not to pause, But in vpon them like a Tempest brake, And downe their buildings with such fury bare, That they from mists dissolued were to ayre.

As those braue Edwards, Father, and the Sonne▪ •••• Conquer'd Cressy▪ with successefull lucke, Where first all France (as at one game) they wonne, Neuer two Warriours, such a Battaile strucke, That when the bloody dismall fight was done, Here in one heape, there in another Rucke Princes and peasants lay together mixt, The English Swords, no difference knew betwixt.

There Lewe•• King of Beame was ouerthrowne, With valiant Charles, of France the yonger brother A Daulphine and two Dukes, in pieces hewen; To them sixe Earles lay slaine by one another; her the grand Prior of France, fetcht his last groa•• Two Archbishops the boistrous croud doth smothe•• There fifteene thousand of their Gentrie dy'de▪ With each two Souldiers, slaughtered by his sid••

Nor the Blacke Prince at Poyters battaile fough•• Short of his Father, and himselfe before, Her King and Prince, that prisoners hither broug•• From forty thousand, weltring in their gore, That in the worlds opinion it was thought, France from that instant could subsist no more, The * Marshall, and the * Constable, there ••laine, Vnder the Standard, in that battaile ta'ne.

Nor is this claime for women to succeed, (Gainst which they would your right to France de•• ba•• A thing so new, that it so much should need Such opposition, as though fetcht from farre, By Pepin this is prou'd, as by a deed, Deposing Cheldricke, by a fatall warre, By Blythyld dat'd his title to aduance, Daughter to Clothar, first so nam'd of France.

Hugh Capet, who from Charles of Lorayne too•• The Crown of France, that he in peace might raig•• As heire to Lingard to her title stooke, Who was the daughter of King Charlemaine,

So holy Lowes poring on his booke, Whom that Hugh Capet made his heire againe, From Ermingard his Gra••da••••, claimd the crown, Duke Charles his caughter, wrongfully put down.

Nor thinke my Liege a fitter time then this, You could haue found your title to aduance, ••t the full height, when now the faction is, ••'wixt Burgoyne, and the house of Orleance, Your purpose you not possibly can misse, •• for my Lord so luckily doth chance, That whilst these two in opposition stand, You may haue time your Army there to land.

And if my fancy doe not ouerpresse, ••y visuall sence, me thinkes in euery eye •• see such cheere, as of our good successe •• France hereafter seemes to Prophecie; Thinke not my Soueraigne, my Alegiance lesse Quoth he; my Lords nor doe you misaply My words: thus long vpon this subiect spent, Who humbly here submit to your assent.

THis speech of his, that powerful Engine prou'd Then e'r our Fathers got▪ which rais'd vs hier, The Clergies feare that quietly remou'd, And into France transferd our Hostile fier, •• made the English through the world belou'd, ••hat durst to those so mighty things aspire, And gaue so cleare a luster to our fame, That neighboring nations trembled at our name.

When through the house, this rumor scarsely r•• That warre with France propounded was againe▪ In all th'assembly there was not a man, But put the proiect on with might and maine, So great applause it generally wan, That else no bus'nesse they would entertaine, As though their honour vtterly were lost, If this desine should any way be crost.

So much mens minds now vpon France were s•• That euery one doth with himselfe forecast, What might fall out this enterprise to let, As what againe might giue it wings of hast, And for they knew▪ the French did still abet The Scot against vs, (which we vs'd to tast) It question'd was if it vvere fit or no; To conquer them, ere we to France should goe▪

Which Raulph then Earle of Westmerland propo•• Quoth he with Scotland let vs first begin, By which we are vpon the North inclos'd, And lockt with vs, one Continent within, Then first let Scotland be by vs dispos'd, And with more ease, yee spatious France may win•• Else of our selues, ere we our ships can cleere, To land in France; they will invade vs here.

Not so braue Neuill, Excester replies, For that of one tvvo labours were to make, For Scotland wholly vpon France relies; First Conquer France, and Scotland yee may take▪

••is the French pay, the Scot to them that tyes, That stopt, asunder quickly ye shall shake, The French and Scots; to France then first say I, First, first, to France then all the commons cry.

And instantly an Embassy is sent, To Charles of France, to will him to restore ••hose Territories, of whose large extent, The English Kings were owners of before; Which if he did not, and incontinent, The King would set those English on his shore, That in despight of him, and all his might, Should leaue their liues there, or redeeme his right.

First Normandy, in his demaund he makes, With Aquitane, a Dutchy no lesse great, Aniou, and Mayne, with Gascoyne which he takes, Cleerely his owne, as many an English seat: With these proud France, he first of all awakes, ••or their deliuery, giuing power to treat; For vvell he knew, if Charles should these restore, No King of France was euer left so poore.

The King, and Daulphin, to his proud demand, ••at he might see they no such matter ment, •• a thing sitter for his youthfull hand; •• Tunne of Paris Tennis Balls him sent, ••tter himselfe to make him vnderstand, ••riding his ridiculous intent: •• And that was all the answere he could get, Which more the King doth to this Conquest ••he••.

That answering the Ambassadour, quoth he, Thanks for my Bals, to Charles your Soueraign gi•• And thus Assure him, and his sonne from me, I'le s••nd him Bals, and Rackets if I liue, That they such R••c••et shall in Paris see, When ouer line with B••••dies I shall driue, As that before the set be fully done, France may (perhap) into the H••zzard runne▪

So little doth luxurious France fore see By her disdaine, vvhat shee vpon her drew: In her most brau••••y s••e••ing then to bee, The punishment that shortly should ensue, Which so incenst the English King, that he, For full reuenge into that fury grew: That those three horro••s, Famine, Sword, and F•• Could not suffice to satisfie his ire.

In all mens mouthes novv was no word but w•• As though no thing had any other name; And folke would aske of them ariu'd from farre, What forces were preparing whence they came •• Gainst any bus'nesse 'twas a lawfull barre To say for France they were; and 'tvvas a shame For any man to take in hand to doe Ought, but something that did belong thereto••

Old Armours are drest▪ vp, and new are made•• Iacks are in vvorking, and strong shirts of Male, He scovvers an * old Foxe, he a bilbow blade, Novv Shields and Targets onely are for sale;

Who works for wa••re, now▪ thriueth by his Trade▪ The brown-Bill, and the Battle-Axe preuaile: The curious Fletcher fits his well-strung Bowe, And his barb'd Arrow which he sets to showe.

Tents and Pauillions in the fields are pitcht, (•••• full wrought vp their Roomthynesse to try) Windowes, and Towers, with Ensines are inricht, With ruffing Banners, that doe braue the skie, Wherewith the wearied Labourer bewitcht To see them thus hang wauing in his eye: His toylsome burthen from his back doth throw, And bids them work that wil, to France hee'l go.

Rich Sadles for the Light-horse and the Bard, For to be brau'st ther's not a man but plyes, Plumes, Bandroules, a••d Caparizons prepar'd; Whether of two, and men at Armes diuise, The Greaues, or * Guyses were the surer guard, The Vambrasse, or the Pouldron, they should prize, And where a stand of Pikes plac't close, or large, Which way to take aduantage in the Charge,

One traynes his Horse, another trayles his Pike. He with his Pole▪ Axe, practiseth the fight, The Bowe-man (which no Country hath the like) With his sheafe Arrow, proueth by his might, How many score off, he his Foe can strike, Yet not to draw aboue his bosomes height: The Trumpets sound the Charge and the Retreat, The bellowing Drum, the March again doth beat,

Cannons vpon their Carriage mounted are, Whose Battery France must feele vpon her Walls, The Engineer prouiding the Petar, To breake the strong Percullice, and the Balls Of Wild fire deuis'd to throw from farre, To burne to ground their Pallaces and Halls: Some studying are, the Scale which they had got, Thereby to take the Leuell of their Shot.

The man in yeares preacht to his youthfull so•• Prest to this Warre, as they sate by the fire, What deedes in France were by his Father done, To this attempt to worke him to aspire, And told him there, how hee an Ensigne vvonne, Which many a yeare was hung vp in the Quire: And in the Batrell, where he made his way, How many French-men he struck down that day••

The good old man with teares of ioy would tell, In Cressy field, vvhat prizes Edward play'd, As what at Poycteers the Blacke Prince befell, How like a L••on hee about him layd: In deedes of Armes, how Audely did excell, For their olde sins▪ how they the French-men paid•• How brauely Basset did be haue him there: Hovv Oxford charg'd the Van, Warwick the reare

And Boy, quoth he, I haue heard thy Grandsire s•• That once he did an English Archer see, Who shooting at a French twelue score away, Quite through the body, stucke him to a Tree;

Vpon their strengths a ••••••ng his Crowne might lay: Such wer•• the men of that braue age quoth hee, When with his •••••• he at his foe did driue, Murrian and scalpe down to the teeth could riue,

The scarlet Iudge might now set vp his Mule, With neighing Steeds the Street so pestred are, For where he went in Westminster to rule, On his Tribunall seate the man of vvarre, The Lawyer to his chambe•• doth recule, For hee hath now no bus'nesse at the barre: But to make Wills, and Testaments for those, That were for France, their substance to dispose▪

By this, the Councell of the War had met, And had at large of euery thing discust; And the graue Clergie had with them beene set, To warrant vvha they vndertooke was iust, And as for monies that to be no let, They, bad the King for that to them to trust: The Church to pawn, would see her chalice laid, E'r she would leaue one Pyoner vnpayd.

From Milford Hauen, to the mouth of Tweed, Ships of all burthen to Southampton brought, For there the King the Rendeuous decreed To beare abroad his most victorious fraught: The place from whence he with the greatest speed, Might land in France▪ (of any that was thought) And with successe vpon that lucky shore, VVhere his great Grandsire landed had before.

But for he found those vessels were too few, That into France his Army should conuay: He sent to Belgia, whose great store he knew, Might now at need supply him euery way, His bounty ample; as the vvindes that blew, Such Barkes for Portage out of eu'ry bay In Holland, Zeland, and in Flanders, brings; As spred the wide sleeue with their canuase wings▪

But first seuen Ships from Rochester are sent, The narrovv Seas, of all the French to sweepe; All men of vvar with scripts of Mart that went, And had command, the Coast of France to keepe: The comming of a Nauie to preuent, And view what strength was in the Bay of Deepe: And if they found it like to come abroad, To doe their best to fire it in the Road.

The Bonauenture, George, and the Expence, Three as tall ships, as e'r did Cable tewe, The Henry Royall, at her parting thence, Like the Huge Ruck from Gillingham that flevv: The Antilop, the Elephant, Defence, Bottoms as good as euer spred a clue: All hauing charge, their voyage hauing bin, Before Southampton to take Souldiers ••••.

Tvvelue Merchants ships, of mighty burthen all, New of the ••tocks, that had beene rig'd for Stoad, Riding in Thames, by Lymehouse, and Blackwall, That ready were their Merchandize to load,

Straightly commanded by the Admirall, At the same Port to settle their aboad▪ And each of these a Pinnis at command. To put her fraught conueniently to land.

Eight goodly Ships, so Bristow ready made, Which to the King they bountifully ••ent, With Spanish Wines which they for ballast lade, In happy speed of his braue Voyage ment, Hoping this Conquest should enlarge their Trade, And there▪ withall a rich and spacious Tent: And as this Fleete the Seuerne Seas doth stem, Fiue more from Padstowe came along with them.

The Hare of Loo a right good ship well knowne, The yeare before that twice the straits had past, Two wealthy Spanish Merchants did her owne, Who then but lately had repair'd her wast; For from her Decke a Pyrate shee had blowne, After a long Fight, and him tooke at last: And from Mounts Bay sixe more, that stil in sight Walted with her before the Ile of Wight.

From Plymmouth next came in the Blazing Star, And fiery Dragon to take in their fraught; With other foure, especiall men of warre, That in the Bay of Portugall had fough, And though returning from a Voyage farre, Stem'd that rough sea, whē at the high'st it wroght▪ With these of Dertmouth seu'n good ships ther were The golden Cressant in their tops that beare▪

So Lyme, three Ships into the Nauy sent, Of which the Sampson scarce a mon'th before, Had sprung a Planke, and her maine Mast had spent▪ With extreme perill that shee got to shore; Wich them fiue other out of Waymouth went, Which by Southampton, vvere made vp a score: With those that rode (at pleasure) in the Bay, And that at Anchor before Portsmouth lay.

Next these, Newcastle furnisheth the Fleet With nine good Hoyes of necessary vse; The Danish Pyrats▪ valiantly they beet, Offring to Sacke them as they sayl'd from Sluce: Sixe Hulks from Hul at Humbers mouth them meet, Which had them oft acompanied to Pruce, Fiue more from * Yurmouth falling them among▪ That had for fishing beene prepared long.

The Cow of Harwitch neuer put to flight, For Hides and Furres, late to Musco••ia bound, Of the same Port, another nam'd the Spight, That in her comming lately, from the Sound, After a two dayes-still▪ continued fight, Had made three Flemings run themselues on ground; With three neat Flee-boats which with thē do tak•• Sixe ships of Sandwich vp the Fleet to make.

Nine ships for the Nobility were there, Of able men, the enterprize to ayde, VVhich to the King most liberally they lent, At their owne charge, and bountifully payd,

Northumberland, and Westmerland in sent, Fourescore at Armes a peece, themselues, and layd At ••ix score Archers each, as Suffolke showes, Twenty tall men at Armes, with forty Bowes.

Warwicke, and Stafford leauied at no lesse, Then Noble Suffolke, nor doe offer more, Of men at Armes, and Archers which they presse▪ Of their owne Tenants Arm'd wite their own store; Their forwardnesse foreshewes their good successe, In such a Warre▪ as had not beene before: And other Barrons vnder Earles that were, Yet dar'd with them an equall charge to beare.

Darcy, and Camois, zealous for the King, Louell, Fitzwater, Willoughby, and Rosse, Berkely, Powis, Burrell, fast together cling; Seymor and Saint-Iohn for the bus'nesse closse, Each twenty Horse, and forty foote doe bring, More, to nine hundred mounting in the grosse In those nine Ships, and ••itly them bestow'd, Which with the other fall into the Road.

From Holland, Zeland, and from Flanders won, By weekely pay, threescore twelue Bottoms came, From fifty vpward; to fiue hundred Tunne; For eu'ry vse a Marriner could name, Whose glittering Flags against the Radient Sunne, ••how'd as the Sea had all beene of a flame; For Skiffes, Crays, Scallops, & the like, why these From eu'ry small Creeke, couer'd all the Seas.

The man whose way from London hap'd to lye, By those ••e met might guesse the generall force, Dayly encountred as he passed by, Now with a Troupe of Foote, and then of Horse, To whom the people still themselues apply, Bringing them victuals as in meere remorce▪ And still the acclamation of the presse▪ Saint George for England, to your good successe.

There might a man haue seene in euery streete, The Father bidding farewell to his Sonne: Small Children kneeling at their Fathers feete: The Wife with her deare Husband ne'r had done, Brother his Brother, with adieu to greet: One Friend to take leaue of another runne: The Mayden with her best belou'd to part, Gaue him her hand, who tooke away her heart▪

The nobler Youth the common ranke aboue, On their coructing Coursers mounted faire, One ware his Mistris Garter, one her Gloue, And he a locke of his deare Ladies haire; And he her Collours, whom he most did loue, There was not one but did some Fauour weare: And each one tooke it, on his happy speed, To make it famous by some K••ightly deed.

The cloudes of dust, that from the wayes arose, Which in their March the trampling troups do rear•• When as the Sunne their thicknesse doth oppose, In his descending, shining wonderous cleare,

To the beholder far off standing showes, Like some besieged towne, that were on fire, As though fore-telling e'r they should returne, That many a City yet secure must burne.

The well-rigd Nauy falne into the Road, For this short Cut with victuall fully stord, The King impatient of their long aboad, Commands his Army instantly aboard, Casting to haue each company bestow'd, As then the time conuenience could afford; The Ships appointed wherein they should goe, And Boats prepar'd for wastage to and fro.

To be imbarqu'd when euery band comes down, Each in their order as they mustred were, Or by the difference of their a Armings knowne, Or by their Collours; for in Ensignes there, ••ome wore the Armes of their most ancient towne, Others againe their owne Diuises beare. There was not any▪ but that more or lesse, Somthing had got, that somthing should expresse.

FIrst, in the b Kentish Stremer was a Wood, Out of vvhose top, an arme that held a sword, As their right Embleme; and to make it good, They aboue other onely had a word, Which was; Vnconquer'd; as that freest had stood. c Sussex the next that was to come Aboard Boare a blacke Lyon Rampant sore that bled, With a Field-Arrow darted through the head.

The men of d Surry, Checky Blew and gold▪ Which for braue Warren their first Earle they w•• In many a Field, that honour'd was of old) And Hamshiere next, in the same collours bore, Three Lyons Passant, th'Armes of Benis Bold, Who through ••he Wo••ld, so famous was of yore▪ A siluer e Tower, Dorsets Red Banner beares The Cornishmen two Wrestlers had for theirs.

The f Deuonshire Band, a Beacon set on fire, Sommerset g a Virgine Bathing in a Spring, Their Cities Armes the men of Glostershire, In Gold▪ three Bloudy Cheuernells doe bring, Wiltshire •• Crowned * Piramed; As higher Then any other to match to the King; Barkeshire, a * Stag, vnder an Oake that stood, Oxford, a White Bull wading in a Flood.

The mustred men for i Buckingham, are gone, Vnder the Swan, the Armes of that old Towne; The Londoners, and Middlesex as one, Are by the Red Crosse, and the Dagger knowne▪ The Men of k Essex ouermatcht by none, Vnder Queene Hellens Image Marching downe; l Suffolke a Sunne halfe ris••n from the brack, m Norfolke a Triton on a Dolphins backe.

The souldiers sent from Cambridgeshire, a Bay Vpon a Mountaine watred with a shower: Hartford b two Harts that in a riuer play: Bedford an Eagle pearcht vpon a Tower, And c Huntington a people proud as they, Nor giuing place to any for their power, A youthfull Hunter with a Chap••et Crown'd, In a pyde Lyam leading foorth his Hound.

Northampton d with a Castle seated high, Supported by two Lyons thither came, The men of e Rutland, to them marching nie; In their rich Ensigne beare an Ermine Ram, And f Lestershire that on their strength relye, A Bull and Mastiue fighting for the game, Lincolne g a ship most neatly that was lim'd, In all her sailes with Flags and Pennons trim'd.

Sto•••• h Warwickshire, her ancient badg the Beare, W••rster i a Peare-tree laden with the fruit, A Golden fl••••ce and k Hereford doth weare Stafford▪ l A Hermet in his homely sute, Shropshire m a Falcon towring in the ayre, And for the Shire whose surface seemes most brute, Darby, an Eagle sitting on a Roote, A swathed infant holding in her foote.

Olde n Nottingham an Archer clad in greene, Vnder a Tree with his drawne bowe that stood, Which in a checkquer'd Flagge farre off was seene It was the picture of old Robin Hood, And o Lancashire not as the least I weene, Thorough three Crowns, three arrows smeard wi〈…〉〈…〉 blood Cheshire a Banner very square & broad, Wherein a man vpon a Lyon rode.

A flaming Lance, the p Yorkeshir•• men for the•• As those for Durham neere againe at hand, A Myter crowned with a Diadem: An armed man▪ the men of q Cumberland: So r Westmerland link'd with it in one Stem, A ship that wrackt lay fierd vpon the sand: Northumberland s with these com'n as a broth〈…〉〈…〉 Two Lyons fighting tearing one another.

Thus as themselues the English men had show'd〈◊〉〈◊〉 Vnder the Ensigne of each seuerall Shiere, The natiue Welch who no lesse honour ow'd, To their owne King, nor yet lesse valiant were; In one strong Reg'ment had themselues bestow'd, And of the rest, resumed had the Reare: To their owne Quarter marching as the rest, As neatly Arm'd, and brauely as the best,

a Pembrooke, a Boat wherein a Lady stood, Rowing herselfe within a quiet Bay; Those men of South-wales of the b mixed blood Had of the Welch the leading of the way: Ca••rmardin c in her collours beare a Rood, Whereon an old man lean'd himselfe to stay, At a Starre poynting; which of great renowne, Was skilfull M••••lin, namer of that towne.

d Glamorgan men, a Castell great and hie, From which, out of the battlement aboue, A flame shot vp it selfe into the skie: The men of e Munmouth (for the ancient loue To that deare Country neighboring them so nie) Next after them in Equipage that moue, Three Crownes Imperiall which supported were With three Arm'd Armes, in their proud Ensigne (beare.)

The men of f Brecknock brought a Warlik Tent, Vpon whose top there sate a watchfull Cocke, Radnor, g a mountaine of an high ascent, Thereon a shepheard keeping of his Flocke, As g Cardigan the next to them that went, Came with a Meremayd sitting on a Rocke, And i Merioneth beares (as these had done) Three dancing goates against the rising Sunne.

Those of k Montgomery, beare a prancing Stee•• Denbeio•••• l a Neptune with his three-fork'd Mace Flintshire (m) a Workemayd in her Summer wee•• with Sheafe and Sickle (with a warlike pace) Those of Caernaruon not the least in speed, Though marching last (in the maine Armies face) Three golden Eagles in their Ensigne brought, Vnder which oft braue Owen Guyneth fought,

The Seas amazed at that fearefull sight, Of Armes and Ensignes that abroad were brought Of Streamers, Banners, Pennons▪ Ensignes pight, Vpon each Pub, and Prowe; and at the fraught, So full of terror, that it hardly might Into a naturall course againe be brought, As the Vaste Nauie which at Anchor rides, Proudly presumes to shoulder out the Tides.

The Fleete then full and floating on the maine The numerous Masts, with their braue topsails s•• When as the wind a little doth them straine, Seeme like a Forrest bearing her proud head▪ Against some rough flaw, that foreruns a raine: So doe they looke from euery lofty sted, Which with the surges, tumbled to and fro, Seeme (euen) to bend, as trees are seene to doe

From euery Ship when as the Ordnance ror•• Of their depart that all might vnderstand, When as the zealous people from the shore, Againe with fires salute them from the Land,

••or so was order left with them before, ••o watch the Beacons with a carefull hand, Which being once fierd, the people more or lesse, Should all to Church, to pray for their successe.

They shape their course into the Mouth of Seyne, ••hat destin'd Flood those Nauies to receiue, ••efore whose fraught, her France had prostrate laine ••s now shee must this, that shall neuer leaue, ••ntill the Ensignes that it doth containe, ••to the ayre her heightned walls shall heaue; Whose stubborne Turrets had refus'd to bow, To that braue Nation that shall shake them now.

Long Boats with Scouts are put to land before, ••pon light Naggs the countrey to disery, Whilst the braue Army setting is on shore,) •• vievv what strength the enemy had nie, ••essing the bosome of large France so sore, ••at her pale Genius, in affright doth flye To all her Townes, and warnes them to awake, And for her safety vp their Armes to take▪

At Paris, Roane, and Orleance, she calls, ••d at their gates with groanings doth complaine: ••en cries she out, O get vp to your walles: ••e English Armies are return'd againe, ••hich in two Battailes gaue those fatall falls, Cressy, and at Poyteers, where lay slaine, Our conquered Fathers, which with very feare, Quake in their graues to feele them landed here.

The King of France now hauing vnd••rstood, Of Henryes entrance. (but too wel unprou'd,) He cleerely saw that deere must be the blood, That it must cost••e'•• he could be remou'd, He sends to make his other s••a Townes good, Neuer before, so much it him behou'd, In euery one a Garison to lay, Fearing fresh powers from England eu'ry day.

To the high'st earth whilst awfull Henry gets, From whence strong Harflew he might easiest see, With sprightly words, & thus their courage whe•• In yonder walls be Mines of gold (quoth hee) He••'s a poore slaue that thinkes of any debts; Ha••flew sh••ll p••y for all, it ours shall bee, This ayre of France doth like me wonderous we•• Lets burne our ships, for here we meane to dw••

But through his H••ast he first of all proclai•• In paine of death no English man should take, From the Religion•• aged, or the maym'd, Or women that could no resistance make; To gaine his owne for that he only aym'd; No•• would haue such to suffer for his sake: Which in the French (when they the same did he•• Bred of this braue King, a religions feare.

His arm•• rang'd, in order fitting war, Each with some greene thing doth his Murrian cro•• With his mayne standard fixt vpon the Carre; Comes, the great King before th'intrenched to••

Whilst from the walles the people gazing are, •• all their sights he sets an army downe, Not for their shot he careth not a pin. But seekes where he his battery may begin.

And into three, his Army doth diuide, ••is strong approaches on three parts to make; ••imselfe on th'one, Clarence on th'other side, ••o Yorke, and Suffolke he the third doth take, ••he Mines the Duke of Glocester doth guide, ••hen caus'd his Ships the riuer vp to Stake, That none with victual should the Town relieue, Should the sword faile, with famin them to grieue.

From his pauillion where he sate in State, ••rm'd for the siedge, and buckling on his Shield, ••raue Henry sends his Herauld to the Gate, ••y trumpets sound to summon them to yeeld, ••nd to accept his mercy e'r too late, ••r else to say, ere he forsooke the field, Harflew should be but a meere heape of Stones, Her buildings buried with her owners bones.

France on this suddaine put into a fright, ••ith the sad newes of Harflew in distresse, ••hose inexpected, miserable plight, ••ee on the suddaine, knew not to redresse, ••t vrg'd to doe, the vtmost that she might, ••e peoples feares and clamours to suppresse, Raiseth a power with all the speed she could, ••om what thereby to loose King Henryes hold.

The Marshall and the Constable of France, Leading those Forces lev••ed for the turne, By which they thought their Titles to aduance, And of their Countrey endlesse praise to earne, But it with them farre otherwise doth chance, For when they saw the villages to burne, And high-towr'd Harflew round ingi••t with fire They with their power to Cawdebeck retire.

Like as a Hinde when she her Calfe doeth see, Lighted by chance into a Lyons pawes, From which should shee aduenture it to free, Shee must her selfe fill his deuouring Iawes, And yet her young one, still his prey must bee, (Shee so instructed is by Natures Lawes:) With them so fares it, which must needs go dow•• If they would figh••; and yet must loose the Tow••

Now doe they mount their Ordnance for the da•• Their scaling Ladders rearing to the walls, Their battering Rams against the gates they lay, Their brazen slings send in the wild-fire balls, Baskets of twigs now carry stones and clay And to th'assault, who furiously not falls; The spade and Pick-Axe working are below; Which then vnfelt, yet gaue the greatst blow.

Rampiers of earth the painfull pyoners raise, With the walls equall, close vpon the Dike, To passe by which the souldier that assayes, On plankes thrust ouer, one him downe doth strike

Him with a mall a second English payes, •• second French transpearc'd him with a pike That from the height of the embattel'd Towers, Their mixed blood ran down the wals in showers.

A French-man b••••ke into the towne doth fall, With a sheafe Arrow shot into the head, An English man in scalling of the wall, From the same place, is by a stone strucke dead, Tumbling vpon them logs of wood, and all, That any way for their defence might sted: The hills at hand re-echoing with the din, Of shouts without, and feareful shrikes within.

When all at once the English men assaile, The French within all valiantly defend, And in a first assault, if any faile, They by a second striue it to amend: Out of the towne come quarries thicke as haile; As thicke againe their Shafts the English send: The bellowing Canon from both sides doth rore, With such a noyse as makes the thunder poore.

Now vpon one side you shall heare a cry, And all that Quarter clowded with a smother, The like from that against it by and by; As though the one were eccho to the other, The King and Clarence so their turnes can ply: And valiant Gloster showes himselfe their brother; Whose Mynes to the besieg'd more mischiefe do, Then with th'assaults aboue the other two.

An old man sitting by the fier side, Decrepit with extreamity of Age, Stilling his little Grand-childe when it cride, Almost distracted with the Batteries rage: Sometimes doth speake it faire, sometimes doth chide As thus he seekes its mourning to asswage, By chance a bullet doth the chimney hit, Which falling in doth kill both him and it.

Whilst the sad weeping Mother sits her downe, To giue the little new-borne babe the Pap, A lucklesse quarry leuel 〈…〉〈…〉 Towne, Kills the sweete baby sleeping in her lap, That with the fright shee falls into a swoone, From which awak'd, and mad with this mishap, As vp a Rrampire shreeking she doth clim, Comes a great shot, and strikes her lim from lim,

Whilst a sort runne confusedly to quench, Some Pallace burning, or some fired Street, Cal'd frō where they were fighting in the Trench: They in their way with Balls of wild-fire met, So plagued are the miserable French, Not aboue head, but also vnder feete, For the fierce English vowe the Tovvne to take, Or of it soone a heape of stones to make.

Hot is the siege the English comming on; As men so long to be kept out that scorne, Carelesse of wounds as they were made of stone, As with their teeth the walls they would haue torn:

••nto a breach who quickly is not gone, •• by the next behinde him ouer-borne: So that they found a place that gaue them way, They neuer car'd what danger therein lay.

From euery Quarter they their course might ply, As't pleas'd the King them to th'assault to call: Now ••n the Duke of Yorke the charge doth lye: To Kent and Cornewall then the turne doth fall: Then Huntingdon vp to the walles they cry: Then Suffolke, and then Excester; which all, In their meane Souldiers habits vs'd to goe, Taking such part as them that own'd them ••••e,

The men of Harflew rough excursions make, Vpon the English in their watchfull Tent, Whose courages they to their cost awake, With many a wound that often backe them sent, So proud a Sally that durst vndertake, And then the Chasepell mell amongst them went, For on the way such ground of them they win, That some French are shut out, some English in.

Nor idely sit our men at Armes the while, Foure thousand Horse that eu'ry day goe out, And of the Field are Masters many a mile, By putting the rebellious French to rout, No peasants them with promises beguile: Another bus'nesse they were come about; For him they take, his ransome must redeeme, Onely French Crownes, the English men esteeme.

Whilst English Henry lastly meanes to trye; By three vast Mines, the walls to ouerthrow, The French men their approches that espy, By countermynes doe meete with them below, And as opposed in the workes they lye: Vp the Besieged the besiegers blow, That stifled quite, with powder as with dust, Longer to walls they found it vaine to trust.

Till Gaucourt then, and Tuttiuile that were The townes commanders, (with much perill) find The Resolution that the English beare; As how their owne to yeelding were enclinde, Summon to parly, offring franckly there; If that ayde came not by a day assignde, To giue the town vp, might their liues stand freee: As for their goods, at Henryes will to be.

And hauing wonne their conduct to the King, Those hardy chiefes on whom the charge had laine▪ Thither those well-fed Burgesles doe bring, What they had off'red strongly to maintaine, In such a case, although a dangerous thing, Yet they so long vpon their knees remaine: That fiue days respight from his Grant they haue Which was the most, they (for their liues) durst craue

The time prefixed comming to expire, And their reliefe ingloriously delay'd, Nothing within their fight but sword, and fire; And bloody Ensignes eu'ry where display'd,

The English still within themselues entire, When all these things they seriously had way'd, To Henryes mercy found that they must trust, For they perceiu'd their owne to be vniust.

The Ports are opened, weapons layd aside, And from the vvalles th'artillery displac'd, The Armes of England are aduanc'd in pride: The watch tower, with Saint Georges banner grac'd Liue England Henry, all the people cry'd: Into the streets the vvomen run in hast, Bearing their little children, for whose sake, They hop'd the King would the more mercy take.

The gates thus widned vvith the breath of vvar; Their ample entrance to the English gaue. There was no doore that then had any bar, For of their owne not any thing they haue: When Henry comes on his Emperiall Carre: To whom they kneele their liues alone to saue. Strucken with wonder, when that face they saw, Wherein such mercy was vvith so much avve.

And first themselues the English to secure, Doubting what danger might yet be within, The strongest Forts, and Citadell make sure, To shovve that they could keepe as vvell as winne, And though the spoyles them wonderously allure. To fall to pillage e'r they will beginne, They shut each passage, by which any power, Might be brought on to hinder, but an hower.

That Conquering King which entring at the g•• Borne by the presie as in the ayre he swamme: Vpon the suddaine layes aside his state, And of a Lyon is become a Lambe: He is not now what he was but of late: But on his bare feete to the Church he came: By his example, as did all the presse, To giue God thanks, for his first good success••

And sends his Herauld to King Charles to say, That though he thus was setled on his shore, Yet he his Armes was ready downe to lay, His ancient right if so he would restore; But if the same he wilfully denay, To stop th'effusion of their Subiects gore; He frankly off'reth in a single fight, With the yong Daulphine to decide his right▪

Eight dayes at Harflew he doth stay to heare, What answere back, his Harauld him would b•••• But when he found that he was ne'r the neere, And that the Daulphine meaneth no such thing, As to fight single; nor that any were To deale for composition from the King: He casts for Callice to make foorth his way. And take such townes as in his iourney lay,

But first his bus'nesse he doth so contriue, To curbe the Townes-men, should they chanc•• st•• Of Armes, and office, he doth them depriue, And to their roomes the English doth preferre;

••ut of the ports all Vagrants he doth driue, ••nd therein sets his Vncle Excester: This done, to march he bids the thundring Drums, To scourge proud France when now her conqueror comes.

The King and Daulphine hauing vnderstood, ••ow on his way this haughty Henry was, ••uer the Soame, which is a dangerous flood; ••uckt down the bridges that might giue him passe, ••nd euery thing, if fit for humane food, ••us'd to be forrag'd; (to a wonderous masse,) And more then this, his iourneys to fore-slow, He scarce one day vnskirmish'd with doth goe,

But on his march, in midst of all his foes, ••e like a Lyon keeps them all at bay, ••nd when they seeme him strictly to inclose; ••et through the thick'st he hewes him out a way: ••or the proud Daulphine dare him to oppose; ••hough off'ring oft his Army to fore-lay: Nor all the power the enuious French can make, Force him one foote, his path (but) to forsake.

And each day as his Army doth remoue, ••arching along vpon Soams Marshy side, ••is men at Armes on their tall Horses proue, ••o find some shallow, ouer where to ride, ••ut all in vaine against the Streame they stroue, ••ill by the helpe of a laborious guide, A Ford was found to set his Army ore Which neuer had discouered bene before.

The newes divulg'd that he had waded Soame▪ And safe to shore his Caridges had brought, Into the Daulphines bosome strooke so home, And on the weakenesse of King Charles so wrou•• That like the troubled Sea, when it doth Foame, As in a rage, to beate the Rocks to nought; So doe they storme, and curse on curse they hea•• Gainst those which should the passages haue ke••

And at that time, both resident in Roan, Thither for this assembling all the Peeres, Whose counsailes now must vnder prop their thro•• Against the Foe; which not a man but feares; Yet in a moment confident are growne, When with fresh hopes each one his fellow chee•• That ere the English to their Callis got, Some for this spoyle should pay a bloody shot,

Therefore they both in solemne Counsaile sat•• With Berry and with Britane their Allies; Now speake they of this course, and then of that, As to insnare him how they might deuise; Something they faine would do, but know not w•• At length the Duke Alanzon vp doth rise, And crauing silence of the King and Lords, Against the English, brake into these words,

HAd this vnbridled youth an Army led, That any way were vvorthy of your feare▪ Against our Nation that durst turne the head, Such as the former English forces were,

This care of yours, your Countrey then might sted, To tell you then, who longer can forbeare, That into question you our vallour bring, To calla counsaile for so poore a thing.

A Route of tatter'd Rascals starued so, As forced through extremity of need, To rake for scraps on Dunghils as they goe, And on the Berries of the Shrubs to feed, Besides with fluxes are enfeebled so, And other foule diseases that they breed, That they disabled are their Armes to sway, But in their march doe leaue them on the way.

And to our people but a handfull are, Scarse thirty thousand, when to land they came, Of which to England dayly some repaire, Many from Harflew carried sicke and lame, Fitter for Spittles, and the Surgions care, Then with their swords on vs to winne them fame, Vnshod, and without stockings are the best, And those by Winter miserably opprest.

To let them dye vpon their March abroad, And foules vpon their Carkaises to feed, The heapes of them vpon the common road, A great infection likely were to breed, For our owne safeties see them then bestow'd, And doe for them this charitable deed, Vnder our swords together let them fall, And on that day they dye be buried all▪

This bold invectiue forc'd against the Foe, Although it most of the assembly seas'd, Yet those which better did the English know, Were but a little with his speeches pleas'd, And that the Duke of Berry meant to show: Which when the murmure somewhat was appeas•• After a while, their listning silence breakes, And thus in answere of Alanzon speakes.

MY Liedg, quoth he, & you my Lords & pee•• Whom this great businesse chiefly doth co〈…〉〈…〉 ce•••• By my experience, now so many yeres, To know the English •• am not to learne, Nor I more feeling haue of humane feares, Then fitteth Manhood, or do•• hope to earne Suffrage from any; but by zeale am wonne, To speake my mind here, as the Duke hath do••

Th'euents of War are various (as I know,) And say, the losse vpon the English light, Yet may a dying man giue such a blow, As much may hinder his proud conquerours might▪ It is enough our puissant power to showe, To the weake English, now vpon their flight, When want, and winter, strongly spurre them•• You else but stay them, that would faine be go••

I like our Forces their first course should hold▪ To skirmish with them vpon euery stay, But fight by no means with thē, though they wo•• Except they find them forraging for pray,

So still you haue them shut vp in a foold, And still to Callis keepe them in their way, So Fabius wearied Haniball, so wee, May English Henry, if you pleased be.

And of the English rid your Countrey cleane, If on their backs, but Callis walles they winne, Whose Frontier Townes you easily may maintaine, With a strong Army still to keepe them in, Then let our Ships make good the mouth of Seyne, And at your pleasure Harflew you may winne, E••e with supplyes againe they can inuade, ••pent in the Voyage lately hither made▪

That day at Poyteers, in that bloody Field, The sudden turne in that great Battell then, Shall euer teach me, whilst I Armes can weeld, Neuer to trust to multitudes of men; •• was the first day that ere I wore a Shield, Oh let me neuer see the like agen Where their Blacke Edward such a Battell won, As to behold it might amaze the Sunne.

There did I see our conquered Fathers fall, Before the English on that fatall ground, When as to ours their number was but small, And with braue Spirits France ne'r did more abound ••et oft that Battaile into minde I call, Whereas of ours, one man seemd all one wound, I instance this; yet humbly here submit, My selfe to fight, if you shall thinke it fit.

The Marshall and the Constable about, To second, what this sager Duke had sayd: The youthfull Lords into a cry brake out, Gainst their opinions, so that ouer-sway'd, Some seeming of their Loyalties to doubt; Alanzon as an Oracle obey'd, And not a French then present, but doth sweare To kill an English, if ynow there were.

A Herault posted presently away, The King of England to the field to dare, To bid him cease his spoyle, nor to delay, Gainst the French power his forces but prepare: For that King Charles determin'd to display His bloody Ensignes, and through France declare, The day and place, that Henry should set dow•• In which their Battails, should dispose the cro••

The newes to Henry by the Herault brought, As one dispassion'd soberly (quoth he) Had your King pleas'd, we son••r might haue fou•• For now my souldiers much enfeebled bee: Nor day, nor place, for Battaile shall be sought, By English Henry: but if he seeke me, I to my vtmost will my selfe defend, And to th'Almighties pleasure leaue the end,

The brute of this intended Battaile spred, The coldnesse of each sleeping courage warmes, And in the French that daring boldnesse bred: Like casting Bees that they arise in swarmes,

••hinking the English downe so farre to tred, •• past that day ne'r more to rise in Armes. T'ext rpe the name, if possible it were, At least not after to be heard of there.

As when you see the enuious Crow espie, ••omething that she doth naturally detest, ••ith open throat how she doth squall and cry, ••nd from the next Groue she doth call the rest, ••nd they for those beyond them bawling flye, ••ll their foule noyse doe all the ayre infest: Thus French, the French to this great Battaile call, Vpon their swords to see the English fall.

And to the King when seriously one told, ••ith what an host he should encountred be, ••m noting well, the King did him behold, 〈…〉〈…〉 the reporting; Merrily (quoth hee). ••y Liedge I'le tell you if I may be bold, ••e will diuide this Army into three, One part we'll kill, the second prisoners stay, And for the third, we'll leaue to runne away.

But for the Foe came hourely in so fast, ••st they his Army should disordred take; ••e King who wisely doth the worst forecast, ••s speedy march doth presently forsake, ••o such forme and his Battalion cast; ••t doe their worst, they should not eas'ly shake; For that his scouts which Forrag'd had the coast, Bad him at hand expect a puissant Host▪

On which ere long the English Vauward light, Which Yorke, of men the brauest doth command, When either of them in the others sight, He caus'd the Army instantly to stand, As though preparing for a present fight, And rideth foorth from his couragious Band, To view the French, whose numbers ouer spread The troubled countrey on whose earth they tre••

Now were both Armies got vpon that ground As on a stage, where they their strengths must try Whence from the wydth of many a gaping wou〈…〉〈…〉 Ther's many a soule into the ayre must fly, Meane while the English that some ease had found, By the aduantage of a Village nie, There set them downe the Battell to abide, When they the place had strongly fortiside,

Made drunk with pride the haughty French dis•• Lesse then their owne, a multitude to view, Nor aske of God, the victory to gaine, Vpon the English wext so poore and few, To stay their slaughter thinking it a paine, And lastly to that insolence they grew, Quoyts, Lots, and Dice for Englishmen to cast, And sweare to pay the Battaile being past.

For knots of corde to eu'ry towne they send, The Captiu'd English that they caught to bind, For to perpetuall slau'ry they intend: Those that aliue they on the Field, should find,

••o much as that they fear'd lest they should spend, ••oo many English wherefore they assignd, Some to keep•• fast those, faine that would be gon, After the Fight, to try their Armes vpon.

One his bright sharp edg'd Semiter doth showe, Off'ring to lay a thousand crownes (in pride) ••hat he two naked English at one blowe, ••ound backe to backe will at the wasts diuide, ••ome bett his sword will do't, some others no, ••fter the Battaile, and they'll haue it tride: Another wafts his Blade about his head, And shews them how their hāstrings he will shread

They part their prisoners, passing them for debt, ••nd in their Ransome ra••ibly accord, ••o a Prince of ours, a Page of theirs they set, ••nd a French Lacky to an English Lord, ••s for our Gentry them to hyre they'll let, ••nd as good cheape as they can them afford, Branded for slaues, that if they hapt to stray, Knowne by the marke, them any one might stay.

And cast to make a Chariot for the King, ••ainted with Antickes, and ridiculous toyes, •• which they meane to Paris him to bring, ••o make sport to their Madames, and their boyes, ••nd will haue Rascalls, Rimes of him to sing, ••••de in his mock'ry; and in all these ioyes, They bid the Bells to ring, and people cry, Before the Battaile, France and Victory.

And to the King and Daulphine sent away. (Who at that time residing were in Roane) To be partakers of that glorious day: Wherein the English should be ouerthrowne, Lest that of them ensuing dayes should say; That for their safety they forsooke their owne, When France did that braue victory obtaine, That shall her lasting'st Monument remaine.

The poore distressed Englishmen the whiles, Not dar'd by doubt, and lesse appaul'd by dread, Of their Arm'd pikes, some sharpning are the pyle The Archer grinding his barb'd Arrow head: Their Bils & blades, some whetting are with File And some their Armours strongly Reuited, Some poynting stakes to sticke into the groun•• To guard the Bow-men, & their Horse to woun••

The night fore-running this most dreadfull da•• The French that all to iollity incline; Some fall to dancing, some againe to play: And some are drinking to this great Designe: But all in pleasure spent the night away, The tents with lights, the fields with bon-fires shi•• The common Souldiers free-mens catches sing•• With shouts and laughter al the Camp doth ri••

The wearied English watchfull o'r their Foes, (The depth of night then drawing on so fast, That faine a little would themselues repose, With thankes to God, doe take that small repast,

Which that poore Village willingly bestowes: And hauing plac'd their Sentinels at last, They fall to prayer, and in their Cabins blest, T'refresh their spirits, then tooke them to their rest

In his Pauillion Princely HENRY lay'd, Whilst all his Army round about him slept: His restlesle head vpon his Helmet stay'd, For carefull thoughts his eyes long waking kept: Great God (quoth he) withdraw not now thy ayde, Nor let my Father HENRIES sinnes be heapt On my transgressions, vp the Summe to make, For which thou may'st me vtterly forsake.

King Richards wrongs to mind, Lord do not call, Nor how for him my Father did offend, From vs alone deriue not thou his fall, Whose odious life caus'd his vntimely end, That by our almes be expiated all: Let not that sinne on me his Sonne descend, When as his body I translated haue, And buried in an honourable graue.

These things thus pondring, sorrow-ceasing sleep, From cares to rescue his much troubled mind, Vpon his Eye-lids stealingly doth creepe, And in soft slumbers euery sense doth blind, (As vndisturbed euery one to keepe) When as that Angell to whom God assign'd, The guiding of the English, gliding downe, The silent campe doth with fresh courage crown.

His glittering wings he gloriously displayes, Ouer the ••ost as euery way it lyes, With ••olden Dreames their trauell, and repayes, This Herault from the Rector of the skies, In Vision wa••nes them not to vse delayes, But to the Battell cheerefully to rise, And be victorious for that day at hand, He would amongst them for the English stand.

The dawne scarse drew the curtaines of the East▪ But the late wearied Englishmen awake, And much refreshed with a little rest, Themselues soone ready for the Battaile make, Not any one but feeleth in his breast, That sprightly fire which courage bids him take, For cre the Sunne next rising went to bed, The French by them in triumph should be led,

And from their Cabins, ere the French arose, (Drown'd in the pleasure of the passed night) The English cast their Battailes to dispose, Fit' or the ground whereon they were to fight: Foorth that braue King couragious Henry goes, An hower before that it was fully light, To see if there might any place be found, To giue his Host aduantage by the ground.

Where twas his hap a Quickset hedge to view, Well growne in heigh; and for his purpose thin, Yet by the Ditch vpon whose banke it grew, He found it to be difficult to winne,

••specially if those of his were true, ••mongst the shrubs that he should set within, By which he knew their strēgth of horse must come If they would euer charge his Vanguard home.

And of three hundred Archers maketh choice, Some to be taken out of euery Band, The strongest Bowmen▪ by the generall voyce, Such as beside were valiant of their hand, And to be so imployed, as would reioyce, Appointing them behind the hedge to stand, To shrowd themselues from sight, and to be mute, Vntill a signall freely bad them shoote.

The game some Larke now got vpon her Wing, As twere the English early to awake, And to wide heauen her cheerefull notes doth sing, As she for them would intercession make, Nor all the noyse that from below doth spring, Her ayrie walke can force her to forsake, Of some much noted, and of others lesse, But yet of all presaging good successe.

The lazie French their leisure seeme to take, And in their Cabins keepe themselues so long, Till flocks of Rauens them with noyse awake, Ouer the Army like a cloud that hong, Which greater hast inforceth them to make, When with their croaking all the Country rong, Which boaded flaughter as the most doe say, But by the French it turned was this way.

That this diuining Foule well vnderstood, Vpon that place much gore was to be spill'd, And as those Birds doe much delight in blood, With humane flesh would haue their gorges fill'd, So waited they vpon their swords for food, To feast vpon the English being kil'd, Then little thinking that these came indeed, On their owne mangled Carkases to feed.

When soone the French preparing for the Field, Their Armed troupes are setting in array, Whose wondrous numbers they can hardly weeld, The place too little whereupon they lay, They therefore to necessity must yeeld, And into order put them as they may. Whose motion sounded like to Nilus fall, That the Vast ayre was deafned therewithall,

The Constable, and admirall of France, With the grand Marshall, men of great command▪ The Dukes of Burbon, and of Orleance, Som for their place, some for their birth-right stand, The Daulphine of Auerney (to aduance, His worth and honour) of a puissant hand: The Earle of Ewe in Warre that had bene bred, These mighty men the mighty Vauward led.

The maine brought forward by the Duke of Bar▪ Neuers and Beamont, men of speciall name, Alan Zon thought, not equall'd in this Warre, With them Salines, Rous, and Grandpre came,

••heir long experience, who had fetcht from farre, Whom this expected Conquest doth enflame, Consisting most of Crosbowes, and so great, As France her selfe it well might seeme to threat.

The Duke of Brabant of high valour knowne, ••he Earles of Marle, and Faconbridge the Reare, ••o Arthur Earle of Richmount's selfe alone, ••hey leaue the right wing to be guided there: Lewes of Burbon, second yet to none, ••ed on the left; with him that mighty Peere The Earle of Ʋandome, who of all her men, Large France entytled, her great Master then.

The Duke of Yorke the English Vauward guides, Of our strong Archers, that consisted most; Which with our horse was wing'd on both the sides, ••affront so great and terrible an host; ••here valiant Fanhope, and there Beamont rides, With Willoughby which scowred had the Coast, That morning early, and had seene at large, How the Foe came, that then they were to charge,

Henry himselfe, on the mayne battell brings, Nor can these Legions of the French affright, This Mars of men, this King of earthly Kings: Who seem'd to be much pleased with the sight, As one ordayn'd t'accompish mighty things; Who to the field came in such brau'ry dight: As to the English boades succesfull lucke, Before one stroke, on either side was strucke.

In Warlike State the Royall Standard borne, Before him as in splendrous Armes he road, Whilst his coruetting Courser seem'd in scorne, To touch the earth whereon he proudly troad; Lillyes and Lyons quarterly adorne, His shield, and his Caparison doe load: Vpon his Helme a crowne with Diamonds dec•• Which through the field, their Radient fires re∣f••e••

The Duke of Glocester neere to him agen, T'assist his Brother in that dreadfull day, Oxford, and Suffolke both true Marshall men, Ready to keepe the battell in Array, To Excester there was appointed then, The Reare; on which their second succours lay, Which were the youth most of the Noblest blo•• Vnder the Ensignes of their names that stood.

Then of the stakes he doth the care commend, To certaine troupes that actiue were and strong, Onely deuis'd the Archers to defend, Poynted with Iron and of fiue foote long, To be remou'd still which way they should bend, Wher the French horse shold thick'st vpō thē thro•• Which when the host to charge each other went▪ Show'd his great wit that first did them inuent.

Both armies fit, and at the point to fight, The French assuring of themselues the day, Send to the King of England (as in spight,) To know what he would for his Ransome pay,

Who with this answere doth their scorne requite: ••pray thee Herault wish the French to stay, And e'r the day be past, I hope to see. That for their Ransomes they shall send to mee.

The French which found how little Henry makes ••f their vaine boasts, as set therewith on fire, Whilst each one to his Ensigne him betakes, ••he Constable to raise his spleene the hyer, ••hus speaks: Braue friēds, now for your Grandsires saks, ••our countrys honor, or what may inspire, Your souls with courage, strain vp all your pow∣er To make this day victoriously ours.

Forward stout French, your vallours and aduance, ••y taking vengeance for our Fathers slaine, ••nd strongly fixe the Diadem of France, Which to this day vnstead•• doth remaine: Now with your swords their Traitors bosoms lance ••nd with their bloods wash out that ancient staine, And make our earth drunke with the English gore, Which hath of ours oft surfetted before,

Let not one liue in England once to tell, ••hat of their King, or of the rest became: Nor to the English what in France befell, But what is bruted by the generall fame: But now the Drums began so loud to yell, As cut off further what he would declame: And Henry seeing them on so fast to make, Thus to his Souldiers comfortably spake.

THinke but vpon the iustnesse of our cause, And he's no man their number that will w•• Thus our great Grandsire purchas'd his applause The more they are, the greater is our prey, We'll hand in hand wade into dangers iawes, And let report to England this conuey That it for me no ransome e'r shall rayse, Either Il'e Conquer, or here end my dayes,

It were no glory for vs to subdue▪ Them, then our number, were the French no mo•• When in one battaile twice our Fathers flew, Three times so many as themselues before, But to doe something that were strange and new▪ Wherefore (I aske you) Came we to this shore▪ Vpon these French our Fathers wan renow•• And with their swords we'l hew yan forrest d••

The meanest Souldier if in fight hee take, The greatest Prince in yonder Army knowne, Without controule shall him his prisoner make, And haue his ransome freely as his owne: Now, English, lyes our honour at the stake, And now or neuer be our valour showne: God & our cause, Saint George for England sta〈…〉〈…〉 Now charge them English, fortune guide yo•• ha••

When hearing one wish all the valiant men, At home in England, with them present were, The King makes answere instantly againe, I would not haue one man more then is here:

••••e subdue, lesse should our praise be then: ••euer come, lesse losse shall England beare: And to our numbers we should giue that deed, Which must from Gods own powerfull hand pro∣ceed.

The dreadful charge the drums & trumpets sound With hearts exalted, though with humbled eyes, When as the English kneeling on the ground, Extend the••r hands vp to the glorious skies, Then from the earth as though they did rebound: ••iue as fire immediatly they rise: And such a shrill shoute from their thr••ats they sent, As made the French to stagger as they went.

Wherwith they stopt, when Erpingham which led 〈…〉〈…〉e Army, saw, the shout had made them stand, 〈…〉〈…〉ting his warder thrice about his head, ••e cast it vp with his auspitious hand, ••hich was the signall through the English spread, ••hat they should charge: which as a dread cōmand, Made them rush on, yet with a second rore, Frighting the French worse then they did before,

But when they saw the enemy so slowe, ••hich they expected faster to come on, 〈…〉〈…〉e scattering shot they sent out as to showe, 〈…〉〈…〉 their approach they onely stood vpon, ••hich with more feruour made their rage ••o glow, •• much disgrace that they had vnder-gone, Which to amend with Ensignes let at large, Vpon the English furiously they charge,

At the full Moone looke how th'vnweldy Tyde▪ Shou'd by some Tempest that from Sea doth rise, At the full height, against the ragged side, Of some rough Cliffe (of a Giganticke sise) Foming with rage impetuously doth ride, The angry French (in no lesse furious wise) Of men at Armes vpon their ready Horse, Assayle the English to disperse their force.

When as those Archers there in ambush layd, Hauing their broad side as they came along, With their barb'd Arrows the French Horses pay▪ And in their ••lankes like cruell Hornets stong: They kick and cry, of late that proudly nay de: And from their seates their Armed riders flong, They ranne together flying from the Dike, And make their riders one another strike.

And whilst the front of the French vanguard ma〈…〉〈…〉 Vpon the English thinking them to Route, Their Horses runne vpon the Armed stakes, And being wounded turne themselues about, The bit into his teeth the Courser takes, And from his Ranke flyes with his Master out, Who either hurts or is hurt of his owne, If in the throng not both together throwne.

Tumbling on heapes, some of their Horses cast▪ With their foure feete all vp into the ayre, Vnder whose backs their Masters breath their last▪ Soe breake their rains, and thence their riders b〈…〉〈…〉

••ome with their feete sticke in the stirrups fast, ••y their fierce Iades and trayled here and there, Entangled in their bridles, one backe drawes, And pluckes the bit out of anothers iawes,

With showers of shafts yet still the English ply, ••he French so fast vpon the poynt of flight, ••ith the mayne Battell yet stood Henry by, ••or all this while had medled in the fight, ••pon the Horses as in chase they fly, ••rowes so thicke, in such abundance light, ••hat their broad buttocks men like buts might see, Whereat for pastime bow-men shooting bee.

When soone De Lannies and Sureres hast, ••ayde their friends put to this shamefull foyle, ••ith two light wings of Horse which had beene plac't, ••ill to supply where any should recoyle, ••t yet their forces they but vainely waste, ••r being light into the generall spoyle, Great losse De Linnies shortly doth sustaine, Yet scapes himselfe; but braue Surreres slaine.

The King who sees how well his Vanguard sped, ••ds his command that instantly it stay, ••esiring Yorke so brauely that had led, 〈…〉〈…〉 hold his souldiours in their first array, ••r it the Conflict very much might sted, 〈…〉〈…〉mewhat to fall aside, and giue him way, Till full vp to him he might bring his power, And make the Conquest compleat in an hower.

Which Yorke obayes, and vp King Henry comes, When for his guidance he had got him roome, The dreadful bellowing of whose straitbracd dru〈…〉〈…〉 To the French sounded like the dreadfull doome, And them with such stupidity benummes, As though the earth had groaned from her wombe, For the grand slaughter ne'r began till then, Couering the earth with multitudes of men.

Vpon the French what Englishman not falls, (By the strong Bow-men beaten from their stee•• With Battle-axes, Halbers, Bils, and Maules. Where, in the slaughter euery one exceeds, Where euery man his fellow forward calls, And showes him where some great born French〈…〉〈…〉 bleed•• Whilst Scalps about like broken pot-sherds fly, And kill, kill, kill, the Conquering English cry.

Now wexed horror to the very height, And scarse a man but wet-shod went in gore, As two together are in deadly fight, And to death wounded, as one tumbleth ore, This Frenchman falling, with his very weight, Doth kill another strucken downe before, As he againe so falling, likewise feeles, His last breath hastned by anothers heeles,

And whilst the English eagerly pursue, The fearefull French before them still that fly, The points of Bils and Halberts they imbrue In their sicke bowels, beaten downe that lye,

〈…〉〈…〉o man respects how, or what blood he drew, 〈…〉〈…〉or can heare those that for their mercy cry, 〈…〉〈…〉ares are damn'd vp with howles & hellish sounds, One fearefull noyse, a fearefuller confounds,

When the couragious Constable of France, 〈…〉〈…〉h'vnluckly Vanguard valiantly that led, 〈…〉〈…〉we the day turn'd by this disastrous chance, 〈…〉〈…〉nd how the French before the English fled; 〈…〉〈…〉 stay (quoth he) your Ensignes yet aduance, 〈…〉〈…〉nce more vpon the enemy make head: Neuer let France say, we were vanquisht so, With our backs basely turn'd vpon our Foe,

Whom the Chattillyon hapned to accost, 〈…〉〈…〉d seeing thus the Constable dismayd: 〈…〉〈…〉ift Noble Lord (quoth he) the day is lost, 〈…〉〈…〉the whole world vpon the match were layd, 〈…〉〈…〉cannot thinke but that Blacke Edwards Ghost, 〈…〉〈…〉ists the English, and our Horse hath frayde, If not, some Deuils they haue with them then, That fight against vs in the shapes of men.

Not I my Lord, the Constable replies: 〈…〉〈…〉 my best soule, the field I will not quit: 〈…〉〈…〉hilst two braue Battailes are to bring supplies, 〈…〉〈…〉ither of which one stroke haue strucken yet, 〈…〉〈…〉y (quoth Dampier) I doe not this aduise, 〈…〉〈…〉re then your selfe, that I doe feare a whit: Spurre vp my Lord, then side to side with mee, And that I feare not you shall quickly see.

They strucke their Rowels to the bleeding sid•• Of their fierce▪ Steeds into the ayre that sprong▪ And as their fury at that instant guides: They thrust themselues into th•• murth'ring thro•• Where such bad fortune these braue Lords betide•• The Admirall from off his Horse was stong, For the sterne English downe before them beere All that withstand, the Peasant and the Peere.

Which when the Noble Constable with griefe Doth this great Lord vpon the ground behold, In his account so absolute a Chiefe▪ Whose death through France he knew would bee condo•• Like a braue Knight to yeeld his friend reliefe, Doing as much as possibly hee could, Both Horse and man is borne into the mayne▪ And from his friend not halfe a furlong flaine.

Now Wil••ough by vpon his well-Arm'd Horse, Into the midst of this Battalion brought, And valiant Fanhope no whitlesse in force, Himselfe hath thither through the squadrons ra•••• Whereas the English without all remorce, (Looking like men that deepely are distraught) Smoking with sweat, besmear'd with dust & b〈…〉〈…〉 Cut into Cantles all that them withstood.

Yet whilst thus hotely they hold vp the Cha•••• Vpon the French, and had so high a hand▪ The Duke of Burbon to make good his place▪ Inforc'd his troupes (with much adoe) to stand▪

To whom the Earle of Suffolke makes apace, Bringing a fresh and yet vnfought-with band: Of valiant Bill-men, Oxford with successe, Vp with his Troupes doth with the other presse.

When in comes Orleance; quite thrust off before, By those rude crowdes that from the English ran, Encouraging stout Burbons Troupes the more, ••'affront the Foe that instantly began: ••aine would the Duke (if possible) restore, 〈…〉〈…〉Doing as much as could bee done by man) Their Honour lost, by this their last defeate, And caused onely by their base Retreat,

Their men at Armes their Lances closely locke, One in another, and come vp so round, That by the strength and horrour of the shocke, They forc't the English to forsake their ground, ••hrinking no more then they had bene a Rocke, Though by the shafts receiuing many a wound, As they would show, that they were none of those That turn'd their backs so basely to their Foes.

Panting for breath his Murrian in his hand, ••oodhouse comes in as backe the English beare, My Lords (quoth he) what now inforc't to stand, When smiling Fortune offereth vs so faire, ••he Frenchly yonder like to wreakes of sand, ••nd you by this our glory but impaire: Or now, or neuer, your first fight maintaine, Chattillion and the Constable are flaine.

Hand ouer head pell mell vpon them ronne, If you will prooue the Masters of the day, Ferrers and Greystocke haue so brauely done, That I enuy their glory, and dare say, From all the English they the Gole haue wonne, Either let's share, or they'll beare all away, This spoke, his Axe about his head he flings, And hasts away, as though his heeles had win••

The Incitation of this youthfull Knight, Besides amends for their retrayte to make, Doth re-enforce their courage, with their might, A second charge with speed to vndertake; Neuer before were they so mad to fight, When valiant Fanhope thus the Lords be spake, Suffolke, and Oxford as braue Earles you be, Once more beare vp with Willoughby and me.

Why now, me think's I heare braue Fanhope sp•• Quoth noble Oxford, thou hast thy desire, These words of thine shall yan battalion breake, And for my selfe I neuer will retire, Vntill our Teene vpon the French we wreake, Or in this our last enterprise expire: This spoke, their Gauntlets each doth other g•• And to the charge as fast as they can driue,

That slaughter seem'd to haue but stayd for 〈…〉〈…〉 de•• To make the horrour to insue the more, With hands be smear'd with blood when meager Looketh more grisly then he did before,

••o that each body seem'd but as a sheath, ••o put their swords in to the Hilts in gore: As though that instant were the end of all, To fell the French or by the French to fall.

Looke how you see a field of standing Corne, When some strong wind in Summer haps to blow, ••t the full height, and ready to be shorne, Rising in waues, how it doth come and goe, Forward and backward so the crowds are borne, Or as the Edie turneth in the flow, And aboue all the Bils and Axes play, As doe the Attom's in the Sunny ray.

Now with mayne blowes their Armours ore vn∣bras'd, And as the French before the English fled, With their brown Bils their recreāt backs they bast And from their shoulders their faint armes do shred, One with a gleaue neere cut off by the waste, Another runnes to ground with halfe a head: Another stumbling falleth in his flight, Wanting a legge, and on his face doth light.

The Duks who found their force thus ouerthrown, And those few left them ready still to route, Hauing great skill, and no les••e courage showne; Yet of their safeties much began to doubt, For hauing few about them of their owne, And by the English so impal'd about, Saw that to some one they themselues must yeeld, Or else abide the fury of the field

They put themselues on those victorious Lord Who led the Vanguard with so good successe, Bespeaking them with honourable wordes, Themselues their prisoners freely and confesse, Who by the strength of their commanding sword•• Could hardly saue them from the slaught'ring pre•• By Suffolkes ayde till they away were sent, Who with a Guard conuayd them to his Tent.

When as their Souldiers to eschew the sacke, Gainst their owne Battell beating in their flight, By their owne French are strongly beaten backe: Lest they their Ranks, should haue disord'red quig•• So that those men at Armes goe all to wracke. Twixt their own friends & those with whom the•• fig•• Wherein disorder and destruction seem'd, To striue, which should the powerfullest be d••em'••

And whilst the Daulphine of Auerney cryes, Stay men at Armes, let Fortune doe her worst, And let that Villane from the field that flies, By Babes yet to be borne, be euer curst: All vnder Heauen that we can hope for, lyes On this dayes battell, let me be the first, That turn'dye backe vpon your desperate Foe•• To saue our Honours, though our liues we lose.

To whom comes in the Earle of Ewe, which long Had in the Battaile ranged here and there, A thousand Bills, a thousand Bowes among, And had seene many spectacles of feare,

And finding yet the Daulphins spirit so strong, By that which he had chancd from him to heare, Vpon the shoulder claps him▪ Prince quoth he, Since I must fall, Oh let me fall with thee.

Scarse had he spoke, but th'English them inclose, And like to Mastiues fiercely on them flew, Who with like courage strongly them oppose, When the Lord Beamont, who their Armings knew, Their present perill to braue Suffolke shewes, Quoth he, lo where Dauerney are and Ewe, In this small time, who since the Field begun, Haue done as much, as can by men be done.

Now slaughter ceaze me, if I doe not grieue, Two so braue Spirits should be vntimely slaine, Lies there no way (my Lord) them to releeue, And for their Ransomes two such to retaine: Quoth Suffolke, come, weele hazzard their repreeue, And share our Fortunes, in they goe amaine, And with such dāger through the presse they wade As of their liues but small account they made.

Yet ere they through the clustred clouds could get Oft downe on those, there trod to death that lay, The valiant Daulphine had discharg'd his debt, Then whom no man had brauelier seru'd that day, The Earle of Ewe, and wondrous hard beset: Had left all hope of life to scape away: Till Noble Beamont and braue Suffolke came, And as their prisoner seas'd him by his name.

Now the maine Battaile of the French came on▪ The Vauward vanquisht, quite the field doth fly, And other helpes besides this, haue they none, But that their hopes doth on their mayne rely, And therefore now it standeth them vpon, To fight it brauely, or else yeeld, or dye: For the fierce English Charge so home and sort▪ As in their hands Ioues thunderbolts they bore.

The Duke of Yorke who since their fight begun Still in the top of all his troopes was seene, And things well-neere beyond beleefe had done, Which of his fortune, made him ouer weene, Himselfe so farre into the maine doth runne, So that the French which quickly got betweene Him and his succours, that great Chieftaine slue Who brauely fought whilst any breath he drew.

The newes soone brought to this couragious King Orespred his face with a distempred Fire, Though making little shew of any thing, Yet to the full his eyes exprest his Ire, More then before the Frenchmen menacing, And hee was heard thus softly to respire: Well, of thy blood reuenged will I bee, Or ere one houre be past Ile follow thee.

When as the frolike Caualry of France, That in the Head of the maine Battaile cam•• Perceiu'd the King of England to aduance, To charge in person; it doth them inflame,

〈…〉〈…〉ch one well hoping it might be his chance, 〈…〉〈…〉 sease vpon him, which was all their ayme, Then with the brauest of the English met, Themselues that there before the King had set,

When th'Earle of Cornewall with vnusuall force, ••counters Grandpre (next that came to hands) 〈…〉〈…〉 strength his equall, blow for blow they scorce, ••eelding their Axes as they had bene wands, ••ll the Earle tumbles Grandpre from his Horse▪ 〈…〉〈…〉er whom strait the Count Salines stands, And lendeth Cornewall such a blow withall▪ Ouer the crupper that he makes him fall▪

Cornewall recouers, for his Armes were good, 〈…〉〈…〉d to Saline▪ maketh vp againe, ••ho chang'd such boy strous buffers, that the blood ••th through the ioints of their strong Armor strain 〈…〉〈…〉 Count Salines sunke downe where he stood▪ ••mount who sees the Count Salines slaine, ••traight copes with Cornewal beaten out of breath 〈…〉〈…〉 Till Kent comes in, and rescues him from death.

Kent vpon Blamount furiously doth fly, 〈…〉〈…〉 at the Earle with no lesse courage strucke, 〈…〉〈…〉d one the other with such knocks they ply, 〈…〉〈…〉at eithers Axe in th'others Helmets stucke, ••hilst they are wrastling, crossing thigh with thigh 〈…〉〈…〉eir Axes pikes, which soonest out should plucke: They fal to ground like in their Casks to smother, With their clutcht Gantlets ••uffing one another.

Couragious ••l••e•• grieued at the sight, Of his friend Blamounts vnexpected fall, Makes in to lend him all the ayde he might; Whose cōming seem'd the stout Lord Soales to cal〈…〉〈…〉 Betwixt whom then began a mortall fight, When instantly fell in Sir Phillip Hall, Gainst him goes Roussy, in then Louell ran, Whom next Count Morveyle chuseth as his m〈…〉〈…〉

Their Curates are vnreuited with blowes, With Horrid wounds their breasts and faces slas〈…〉〈…〉 There drops a cheeke, and there falls off a nose, And in ones face his fellowes braines are dasht; Yet still the better with the English goes. The earth of France with her owne blood is wash〈…〉〈…〉 They fall so fast, she scarce affords them roome〈…〉〈…〉 That one mans trunke becomes anothers tom〈…〉〈…〉

When Suffolke chargeth Huntingdon with slo〈…〉〈…〉 Ouer himselfe too wary to haue bin, And had neglected his fast plighted troth, Vpon the Field, the Battaile to begin, That where the one was, there they would be both•• When the stout Earle of Huntingdon, to win, Trust with his friends; doth this himselfe inlar〈…〉〈…〉 To this great Earle who dares him thus to charg••

My Lord (quoth he) it is not that I feare, More then your selfe, that so I haue not gone; But that I haue beene forced to bee neare, The King, whose person I attend vpon,

〈…〉〈…〉d that I doubt not but to make appeare, ••ow, if occasion shall but call me on; Looke round about my Lord, if you can see, Some braue aduenture worthy you and me.

See yan proud Banner of the Duke of Barres, 〈…〉〈…〉 think'st it wasts vs, and I heare it say, 〈…〉〈…〉her's that couragious Englishman that dares, 〈…〉〈…〉 enture, but to carry me away, ••is were a t••ing now worthy of our warres; 〈…〉〈…〉 true, quoth Suffolke, by this blessed day, On, and weele haue it, sayst thou so indeed, Quoth Huntingdon, then Fortune be our speed,

••nd through the rancks then rushing in their pride ••ey make a Lan••; about them so they lay, ••ote goes with foote, and side is ioynde to side, ••ey strike downe all that stand within their way, 〈…〉〈…〉d to direct them, haue no other guide, 〈…〉〈…〉 as they see the multitude to sway; And as they passe, the French as to defie, Saint George for England and the King they cry,

By their examples, each braue English blood, 〈…〉〈…〉 the Frenchmen for their Ensignes runne, 〈…〉〈…〉e there as trees within a well-growne wood; ••ere great Atchieuements instantly were done, 〈…〉〈…〉inst them roughly whilst that Nation stood, 〈…〉〈…〉ô what man his destinie can shunne, That Noble Suffolke there is ouerthrowne, ••hen ••e much vallour sundry wayes had showne.

Which the proud English further doth pro•••• Who to destruction bodily were bent, That the maine battaile instantly they broke, Vpon the French so furiously they went, And not an English but doth scorne a stroake, If to the ground it not a Frenchman sent, Who weak with wounds, their weapons frō th•• thr•• With which the English fearefully them slew.

Alanzon backe vpon the Reareward borne, By those vnarm'd that from the English fled, All further hopes them vtterly forlorne, His Noble heart in his full bosome bled, VVhat fate, quoth he, our ouerthrow hath sworne Must France a prisoner be to England led, VVell, if she be so, yet Ile let her see, Shee beares my carkasse with her, and not me.

And puts his Horse vpon his full Careere, When with the courage of a valiant Knight, (As one that knew not, or forgot to feare,) He tow'rds King Henry maketh in the fight, And all before him as he downe doth beare, Vpon the Duke of Glocester doth light: Which on the youthfull Chiualry doth brin•• Scarse two piks length that came before the 〈…〉〈…〉

Their Staues both strongly reuetted with s•••• At the first stroke each other they astound, That as they staggering from each other reele▪ The Duke of Glocester falleth to the ground,

••hen as Alanzon round about doth wheele, ••hinking to lend him his last deadly wound, In comes the King, his brother•• life to saue, And to this braue Duke a fresh on▪ set gaue.

When as themselues like thunderbolts they shot, One at the other, and the lightning brake Out of their Helmets, and againe was not, ••'r of their stroake the eare a sound could take, ••etwixt them two, the conflict grew so hot, ••hich those about them so amaz'd doth make, That they stood still as wondring at the ••ight, And quite forgot that they themselues must fight

Vpon the King Alanzon prest so sore, ••hat with a stroke (as he was wondrous strong) ••e c••eft the Crowne which on his Helme he wore, ••nd tore his Plume that to his heeles it hong: ••hen with a second brus'd his Helme before, ••hat it his forehead pitifully wrung: As some that saw it certainely had thought, ••he King therewith had to the ground bin brought

But Henry soone Alanzons Ire to quit, ••s now his valour lay vpon the Racke) ••on'th face the Duke so strongly hit, 〈…〉〈…〉 in his Saddle layd him on his backe, 〈…〉〈…〉d once perceluing that be had him split, 〈…〉〈…〉llow'd his blowes redoubling thwack on thwack 〈…〉〈…〉 Till ••e had lost his stirrups, and his head Hung where his Horse was like thereon to tread.

When soone two other seconding their Lord, His kind companions in this glorious prize, Hoping againe the Duke to haue restor'd If to his feet his Armes would let him rise: On the Kings Helme their height of fury scor'd; Who like a Dragon fiercely on them flies, And on his body slew them both, whilst he, Recouering was their ayde againe to be.

The King thus made the master of the fight: The Duke calls to him as he there doth lye, Henry I'le pay my ransowe, doe me right: I am the Duke Alanzon, It is I, The King to saue him putting all his might, Yet the rude souldiers with their shout and cry, Quite drownd his voyce, his Helmet being shut, And that braue Duke into small pieces cut.

Report once spred, through the distracted Host, Of their prime Hope, the Duke Alanzon slaine, That flower of France, on whom they trusted most, They found their valour was but then in vaine, Like men their hearts that vtterly had lost, Who slowly fled before, now runne amaine, Nor could a man be found, but that dispaires, Seeing the Fate both of themselues and theirs.

The Duke Neuers, now in this sad retreat, By Dauid Gam and Morrisby pursude, (Who throughly chas'd, neere melted into sweat, And with French blood their Pollaxes imbrud)

They sease vpon him following the defeat, Amongst the faint and fearefull multitude, When a contention fell betweene them twaine. To whom the Duke should right••u••ly pertaine,

I must confesse thou hadst him first in chase, Quoth Morrisby; but lefts him in the throng, ••hen put I on, quoth Gam hast thou the face, ••nsulting Knight to offer me this wrong; Quoth Morrisby, who shall decide the case, ••••t him confesse to whom it doth belong, Let him (quoth Gam) but if't be not to mee, For any right you haue, he may goe free,

With that couragious Morrisby grew hot, ••ere not sayd he his ransome worth a pin, ••ow by these Armes I were, thou gett'st him not, ••r if thou dost thou shalt him hardly win: ••am whose Welch blood could hardly brooke this blot, ••o bend his Axe vpon hi•• doth begin, He his at him, till the Lord Beamont came, Their rash attempt, and wisely thus doth blame.

Are not the French twice trebl'd to our power, ••nd fighting still, nay, doubtfull yet the day: ••i••ke you not th••se vs fast enough deuoure: ••t that your braues the Army must dismay: ••ought but good befall vs in this houre: ••is be you sure your liues for it must pay: Then first the end of this dayes Battaile see, And then decide whose prisoner he shall be,

Now Excester with his vntaynted Reare, Came on, which long had labour'd to come in, And with the Kings mayne battell vp doth beare, Who still kept off, till the last houre had bin: He cryes and clamours eu'ry way doth heare: But yet he knew not which the day should win: Nor askes of any what were fit to doe, But where the French were thick'st he falleth to.

The Earle of Vandom certainely that thought, The English fury some what had beene stayd: Weary with slaughter as men ouer-wrought, Nor had beene spur'd on by a second ayd: For his owne safety, then more fiercely fought, Hoping the tempest had bin somewhat layd: And he thereby (though suff'ring the defeate) Might keepe his reareward whole in his retreat••

On whom the Duke of Excester then fell, Reare with the Reare now for their valoursvy, Ours finde the French their liues will dearely sell, And th'English meane as dearely them to buy: The English follow, should they run through hell, And through the same the French must, if they fly, When too't they goe, deciding it with blowes, With th'one side now, then with th'other't g〈…〉〈…〉

But the sterne English with such lucke and mig〈…〉〈…〉 (As though the fates had sworn to take their part Vpon the French preuailing in the Fight, With doubled hands, and with re-doubled heart••

The more in perill still the more in plight, Gainst them whom fortune miserably thwarts: Disabled quite before the foe to stand, But fall like grasse before the Mowers hand.

That this French Earle is beaten on the field, His fighting souldiers round about him slaine, And when himselfe a Prisoner he would yeeld, And beg'd for life, it was but all in vaine: Their Bils the English doe so easily weeld, To kill the French as though it were no paine: For this to them was their auspicious day, The more the English fight, the more they may,

When now the Marshall Boucequalt, which long Had through the Battell waded euery way, Oft hazzarded the murthered troupes among, Encouraging them to abide the day: Finding the Army which he thought so strong, Before the English faintly to dismay, Brings on the wings which of the rest remain'd, With which the battaile stoutly he maintain'd.

Till old Sir Thomas Erpingham at last, ••ith those three hundred Archers commeth in, ••hich layd in ambush not three houres yet past, ••ad the Defeat of the French Army bin, ••ith these that noble souldier maketh hast, 〈…〉〈…〉t other from him should the honour win: Who as before now stretch their wel-waxt strings, At the French Horse then comming in the wings.

The soyle with slaughter euery where they lo•• Whilst the French stoutely to the English stood, The drops from eithers emptied veynes that flow Where it was lately firme had made a flood, But Heau'n that day to the braue English ow'd; The Sunne that rose in water, set in blood: Nothing but horror to be look'd for there, And the slought Marshall vainely doth but fe••

His Horse sore wounded whilst he went aside, To take another still that doth attend, A shaft that some too-lucky hand doth guide, Piercing his Gorget brought him to his end, Which when the proud Lord Falkonbridge espide, Thinking from thence to beare away his friend, Strucke frō his Horse with many a mortal wou•• Is by the English nayled to the ground.

The Marshals death so much doeth them affrig That downe their weapons instantly they lay, And better ye•• to fit them for their flight, Their weightier Armes they wholly cast away, Their hearts so heauy makes their heeles so light, That there was no intreating them to stay, Ore hedge and ditch distractedly they take, 〈…〉〈…〉 And happiest he the greatest hast could make,

When Ʋadamount now in the conflict met, With valiant Brabant, whose high valour show•• That day did many a blunted courage whet, Ere long before that from the field had flowne,

Q••oth Vadamount, see how wee are beset, To death like to be troden by our owne, My Lord of Brabant, what is to be done? See how the French before the English runne.

Why let them runne, and neuer turne the Head, Quoth the braue Duke, vntill their hatefull breath, Forsake their bodies, and so farre haue fled, That France be not disparag'd by their death, Who trusts to Cowards ne'r is better sped, Be he accurst, with such that holdeth faith, Slaughter consume the Recreants as they fly, Branded with shame, so basely may they dye.

Ignoble French, your fainting cowardize craues The dreadfull curse of your owne mother earth, Hardning her breast, not to allow you graues, Bee she so much ashamed of your birth; May he be curst that one of you but saues, And be in France hereafter such a dearth, Of courage, that men from their wits it feare, A Drum or Trumpet when they hap to heare.

From Burgundy brought I the force I had, To fight for them, that ten for one did fly, It splits my breast, O that I could be mad; To vexe these Slaues who would not dare to dye: In all this Army is there not a Lad, Th'ignoble French for cowards that dare cry: If scarse one found, then let me be that one, The English Army that oppos'd alone.

This ••••Spand•••• pu•••• his Horse vpon his speed, And in like 〈…〉〈…〉ing on the English flew: 〈…〉〈…〉 sonne he made to bleed, W••••st •••••• with much astonishment they view: Where hauing ••cted many a Knight-like deed, H•••• and his Horse they all too peeces hewe: Yet he that day more lasting glory wan, Except Al••nzon then did any man.

When as 〈…〉〈…〉 great King Henry came, Of a vast ro•••••• which ••om the Battaile ••••ed, (Amongst the French men of most speciall name) But the stoute English fiercely followed; Ha•• for ••h••i•• safety, (much though to their sha••••e) Got in their flight into so strong a sted, So fortifi'd by nature (as 'twas though••) They might no•• thence, but with much blood be brought

An aged Rāpire, with huge Ruines heapt▪ Which seru'd for Shot, gainst those that should 〈…〉〈…〉 Whose narrow entrance they with crosbowes kept Whose sharpned quarres came in show••'s like haile Quoth the braue King first let the field be swept, And with the rest we well enough shall deale; Which though some heard & so shut vp their ••are Yet relish't not with many souldiers there,

Some that themselues by Ransomes would in r•••••• (To make their pray of Pesants yet despise) Felt as they thought their bloody palmes to 'tch, To be in action for their wealthy prize,

Others whom onely glory doth bewitch, Rather then life would to this enterprize: Most men seem'd willing, yet not any one, Would put himselfe this great exployt vpon.

Which Woodhouse hearing merrily thus spake, One that right wel knew, both his worth and wit) A d••ng ••ous thing it is to vndertake, A fort, where Souldiers be defending it, •••••••• path•••• sleepe, and if they should awake, With ••••ones, or with their shafts they may vs hitt, And in our Conquest whilst so well we fare, It were meere folly, but I see none dare.

Which Gam or'hearing (being neere at hand,) Not dare quoth he, and angerly doth frowne, I tell thee Woodhouse, some in presence stand, Dare propp the Sunne if it were falling downe, Dare graspe the bolt from Thunder in his hand, And through a Canon leape into a Towne, I tell thee, a resolued man may doe, Things that thy thoughts yet neuer mounted to.

I know that resolution may doe much, Woodhouse replyes, but who could act my thought, With his proud Head the pole might easily tuch, And Gam quoth he, though brauely thou hast fought Yet not the Fame thou hast attain'd to, such, But that behind as great is to be bought, And yonder tis, then Gam come vp with mee, Where soone the King our Courages shall see••

Agreed quoth Gam, and vp their troups they •••• Hand ouer head, and on the French they ranne, And to the fight couragiously they fall, When on both sides the slaughter soone began; Fortune a while indifferent is to all, These what they may, and those doe what they ca•• Woodhouse and ••am, vpon each other vye, By Armes their manhood desperatly to try.

To clime the Fort, the Light-arm'd English strin•• And some by Trees there growing to ascend; The French with flints let at the English driue, Themselues with shields the Englishmen defend, And faine the fort down with their hands would r•••• Thus either side their vtmost power extend, Till valiant Gam sore wounded, drawne aside, By his owne souldiers, shortly after dy'de,

Then take they vp the bodyes of the slayne, Which for their Targets ours before them beare, And with a fresh assault came on againe, Scarse in the Field yet such a fight as there, Cros-bowes, and Long-bowes, at it are amaine, Vntill the French their massacre that feare, Of the fierce English▪ a cessation craue, Offring to yeeld, so they their liues would saue▪

Lewis of Burbon in the furious heat, Of this great Battaile, hauing made some stay Who with the left Wing suffred a••d feate, In the beginning of this lucklesse day,

Finding the English forcing their retreat, And that much hope vpon his valour lay, Fearing lest he might vndergoe some shame, That were vnworthy of the Burbon name.

Hath gathered vp some scattered troops of horse, That in the Field stood doubtfull what to doe, Though with much toyle, which he doth reinforce, With some small power that he doth adde thereto, Proclaiming still the English had the worse, And now at last, with him if they would goe, He dares assure them Victory, if not, The grearest fame that euer Souldiers got.

And being wise, so Burbon to beguile, The French, (preparing instantly to fly) Procures a Souldier by a secret wile, To come in swiftly and to craue supply, That if with courage they would fight a while, It certaine was the English all should dye, For that the King had offered them to yeeld, Finding his troupes to leaue him on the field,

When Arthur Earle of Richmount comming in, With the right wing that long staid out of sight, Hauing too lately with the English bin, But finding Burbon bent againe to fight, His former credit hoping yet to winne, (Which at that instant casily he might) Comes close vp with him, and puts on as fast, Brauely resolu'd to fight it to the last.

And both encourag'd by the newes was braug•• Of the ariuing of the Daulphine: power; Whose speedy Van, their Reare had almost raug•• (From Agin Court discouered from a Tower) Which with the Norman Gallantry was fraught, And on the suddaine comming like a shower; Would bring a deluge on the English Hoast, Whilst yet they stood their victory to boast.

And on they come, as doth a rowling tide, Forc'd by a wind, that shoues it foorth so fast, Till it choke vp some channell, side to side, And the crab'd banks doth downe before it cast, Hoping the English would them not abide, Or would be so amaz••d at their hast, That should they faile to route them at their w〈…〉〈…〉 Yet of their blood, the fields should drinke their f〈…〉〈…〉

When as the English whose o'r-wearied Armes, Were with long slaughter lately waxed sore, These inexpected, and so fierce Alarmes, To their first strength doe instantly restore, And like a Stone their st••ff••ned sinewes warmes, To act as brauely as th•••• did before; And the proud French as stoutly to oppose, Scorning to y••e••d one foote despight of blowes,

The figh•• is fearefull, for stout Burbon brings, His f••esh〈…〉〈…〉 forces on with such a shocke, That they were like to cut the Archers strings, E're they their Arrowes handsomely could nock,

〈…〉〈…〉e French like Engins that were made with springs: 〈…〉〈…〉emselues so fast into the English locke, That th'one was like the other downe to beare, In wanting roomth to strike, they stood so neare.

Till staggering long they from each other reel'd, ••lad that themselues they so could disingage: ••••d falling backe vpon the spacious field, ••or this last Sceane, that is the bloody Stage) ••here they their weapons liberally could weeld, ••hey with such madnesse execute their rage, As though the former fury of the day, To this encounter had bene but a play.

Slaughter is now desected to the full, ••ere from their backs their batter'd Armorsfall, ••er•• a ••left shoulder, there a clouen scull, ••here hang his eyes ou•• beat••n with a••mall, ••ntill the edges of their Bill•• grow dull, p••n each other they so spend their gall, Wilde sh••••t••s and clamors all the ayre doe fill, The French cry ••tue, and the English kill.

The Duke of Barre in this vast spoyle by chance; ••ith the Lord Saint-Iohn on the field doth meete, ••ow'rds whom that braue Duke doth himselfe ad∣uāce ••ho with the like encoūter him doth greet, ••his English Barron, and this Peere of France, ••rapling together, falling from their feet, With the rude crowds had both to death beene crusht, ••n for their safety, had their friends not rusht.

Both againe rais'd, and both their souldiers shift To saue their liues if any way they could: But as the French the Duke away wouldlift, Vpon his Armes the English taking hold, (Men of that sort, that thought vpon their thrift) Knowing his Ransome dearely would be sould: Dragge him away in spight of their defence, Which to their quarter would haue borne him thence,

Meane while braue Burbon from his stirring hors•• Gall'd with an Arrow to the earth is throwne, By a meane souldier seased on by force, Hoping to haue him certainely his owne, Which this Lord holdeth better so then worse: Since the French fortune to that ebbe is growne, And he perceiues the souldier doth him deeme, To be a person of no meane esteeme.

Berkely and Burnell, two braue English Lords, Flesht with French blood & in their Valours pride▪ Aboue their Arm'd heads brandishing their swords, As they tryumphing through the Army ride, Finding what prizes fortune her affords, To eu'ry Souldier, and more wistly eyde, This gallant prisoner, by this Arming see, Of the great Burbon family to be.

And from the Souldier they his prisoner take, Of which the French Lord seemeth wondrous faine▪ Thereby his safety more secure to make, Which when the souldier finds his hopes in vaine,

〈…〉〈…〉 rich a booty forced to forsake, 〈…〉〈…〉 put himselfe and prisoner out of paine, He on the suddaine stabs him, and doth sweare, Would th'aue his Ransome, they should take it there▪

When Rosse and Morley making in amaine, ••ing the Lord Darcy vp with them along, ••hose Horse had lately vnder him beene slaine, 〈…〉〈…〉d they on foote found fighting in the throng, 〈…〉〈…〉ose Lords his friends remounting him againe, ••ing a man that valiant was and strong: They altogether with a generall hand, Charge on the French that they could find to stand.

And yet but vainely as the French suppos'd, 〈…〉〈…〉th'Earle of Richmount forth such earth had foūd, 〈…〉〈…〉at on two sides with quick-••et was inclos'd, 〈…〉〈…〉d the way to it by a rising ground, which a while the English were oppos'd, euery Charge which else came vp so round, As that except the passage put them by, The French as wel might leaue their Armes and fly.

Vpon both parts it furiously is fought, 〈…〉〈…〉d with such quickn••sse riseth to that height, 〈…〉〈…〉t horror needs no further to be sought: 〈…〉〈…〉nely that might satisfie the sight, 〈…〉〈…〉o would haue fame full d••er••ly here i•• bought, 〈…〉〈…〉 it was sold by measure and by weight, And at one rate the price still certaine stood, An ounce of honour cost a pound of blood,

When so it hapt that Dampier in the Van, Meetes with stoute Darcy, but whilst he him pr〈…〉〈…〉 Ouer and ouer commeth Horse and man, Of whom the other soone himselfe possest: When as Sauesses vpon Darcy ran, To ayde Dampier, but as he him adrest; A Halbert taking hold vpon his Greaues, Him from his Saddle violently heaues,

VVhen soone fiue hundred Englishmen at Arme That to the French had giuen many a Chase, And when they couered all the field with swarmes Yet oft•• hat day had brauely bid them base: Now at the last by raising fresh alarmes; And comming vp with an vnusuall pace, Made them to know that they must run or yee•• Neuer till now the English had the Field.

Where Arthur Earle of Richmount beaten dow•• Is left (suppos'd of euery one for dead) But afterwards awaking from his swoone, By some that found him, was recouered: So Count Du Marle was likewise ouerthrowne, As he was turning meaning to haue fled, VVho fights the cold blade in his bosme feele••, VVho flyes, still heares it whisking at his heel••

Till all disrank'd, like siely sheepe they runne, By threats nor prayers, to be constrain'd to stay▪ For that their hearts were so extreamely done, That fainting oft they fall vpon the way,

Or when they might a present perill shunne, They rush vpon it by their much dismay; That from the English should they safely flye, Of their owne very feare, yet they should dye.

Some they take prisoners, other some they kill, ••s they affect those vpon whom they fall: For they as Victors may doe what they will: For who this Conquerour to account dare call, ••n gore the English seeme their soules to swill, And the deiected French must suffer all; Flight, cords, and slaughter, are the onely three, To which themselues subiected they doe see.

A shoolesle Souldier there a man might meete, Leading his Mounsier by the Armes fast bound: Another, his had shackled by the feete; Who like a Cripple shu••fled on the ground; Another three or foure before him beete, Like harmefull Cattell driuen to a pound, They must abide it, so the Victor will, Who at his pleasure may, or saue, or kill.

That braue French Gallant when the fight began, Whose lease of Lackies ambled by his side, Himselfe a Lacky now most basely ran, Whilst a rag'd souldier on his Horse doth ride, That Rascall is no lesse then at his man, Who was but lately to his Luggadge tide; And the French Lord now courtsies to that slaue, Who the last day his Almes was like to craue.

And those few English wounded in the fight, The force the French to bring with them away, Who when they w••re depressed with the weight▪ Yet dar'd not once their burden downe to lay, Those in the morne, whos•• hopes wer at their h••ig•• Are fallne thus lowe ••re the departing day, With picks of Halberts pric••t in stead of goa〈…〉〈…〉 Like tyred Horses labouring with their Loads▪

But as the English from the field returne, Some of those French who when the fight b••gan, Forsooke their friends, and hoping yet to earne, Pardon, for that so covvardly they ran, Ass〈…〉〈…〉h English C••rri'ges to burne. Which to defend them scarcely had a man; For that their keepers to the field were got, To picke such sp••yles, as chance should then▪ al••

The Captaines of this Rascall cowardly Ro••t•• Were Isa••••ret of Agincourt at hand, Riflant of ••lunasse a Dorpe there about, And for the chiefe in this their base command. Was Robin••••t of Burn••••••le; throughout, The country knowne, all order to withstand, These with fiue hundred Peasants they had ra〈…〉〈…〉 The English Tents vpon an instant seas'd.

For setting on those with the Luggadge left, A few poore Sutlers with the Campe that went, They basely fell to pillage and to theft, And hauing ••ifled euery Booth and Tent,

••ome of the sillyest they of life bereft, ••he feare of which, some of the other sent, Into the Army, with their suddaine cryes, Which put the King in feare of fresh supplies.

For that his Souldiers tyred in the fight, ••heir prisoners more in number then they were, ••e thought it for a thing of too much weight, ••oppose fresh fo••c••s, and to guard them there, ••he Daulphines Powers, yet stan••ing in their sight, ••nd Burbons Fo••ces of the fi••ld n••t cleere, These yearning cr••es that ••rom the caridge came His blood yet hot, more highly doth i••flame,

And in his rage he instantly commands, ••hat euery English should his prisoner ••ill, ••••cept some few in some g••••at Captaines hands, ••hose Ransomes might his emptied C••fers fill, ••lls one whose loose, or who is now in bonds, ••oth must one way it is the Cōqu••rours wil, Those who late thought, smal ransoms them might free Saw onely death their Ransoms now must be.

Accu••sed French, and could it not suffize, ••hat ye but now bath'd in your natiue gore; ••ut ye must now infortunately rise, ••o draw more plagues vpon ye then before, ••nd gainst your selfe more mischiefe to deuise, ••hen th'English could haue, and set wide the doore, To vtter ruine, and to make an end, Of that your selues, which others would▪ not spend.

Their vtmost rage the English now hath breath'•• And their proud hearts gan somewhat to relent, Their bloody swords they quietly had sheath'd, And their strong bowes already were vnbent, To easefull rest their bodies they bequeath'd, Nor farther harme at all to you they ment, And to that paynes must ye then needsly put, To draw their ••niues once more your throats 〈…〉〈…〉 cut

That French who lately by the English stood, And freely ask'd what ransome he should pay, Who somewhat coold, and in a calmer moode, Agreed with him both of the summe and day, Now findes his flesh must be the present foode, For wolues and rauens, for the same that stay, And sees his blood on th'others sword to flow, E'r his quicke sense could apprehend the blow▪

Whilst one is asking what the bus'nesse is, Hearing (in French) his country-man to cry: He who detaines him prisoner, answeres this: Mounsier, the King commands that you must die▪ This is plaine English, whilst he's killing his: He sees another on a French man flye, And with a Poleax pasheth out his braines, Whilst he's demanding what the garboile mea〈…〉〈…〉

That tender heart whose chance it was to haue▪ Some one, that day who did much valour showe, Who might perhaps haue had him for his Slaue: But 〈…〉〈…〉 all Lots had fate pleas'd to bestow:

Hee who his prisoner willingly would saue, Lastly constrain'd to giue the deadly blowe, That sends him downe to euerlasting sleepe: Turning his face, full bitterly doth weepe.

Ten thousand French that inwardly were well, Saue some light hurts that any man might heale, Euen at an instant, in a minute fell, And their owne friends their deaths to them to deale, Yet of so many, very few could tell, Nor could the English perfectly reueale, The desperate cause of this disastrous hap. But euen as Thunder kil'd them with a clap,

How happy were those in the very height, Of this great Battaile, that had brauely dyde, When as their boyling bosomes in the fight, Felt not the sharpe steele thorow them to slide; But these now in a miserable plight, Must in cold blood this massacre abide, Caus▪d by those Villanes (curst aliue and dead,) That from the field the passed morning fled.

When as the King to Crowne his glorious day, Now bids his souldiers after all this toyle, No forces found that more might them dismay) Of the dead French to take the gen'rall spoyle, Whose heapes had well neere stopt vp eu'ry way, For eu'n as Clods they cou'red all the soyle, Commanding none should any one controule, Catch that catch might, but each man to his dole.

They fall to groping busily for gold, Of which abou•• them 〈…〉〈…〉 st••re, They find as much as w••ll their hands can hold, Wh•• ••ad but siluer, him they counted po••re, Sc••••fes, Chaines▪ an•• Bracel••••s, were not to be told So rich as th••se •••• souldiers were before; Who got a Ring, would scarcely put it on, Except therein there were some Radiant stone.

Out of rich sates the Noblest French they strip, An•• leaue their bodies naked on the ground, And each one fill his Knapsack, or his Scrip, W〈…〉〈…〉some rare th••ng that on the Field i•• found: About his bus'n••ss ••••t he ••••••bly Skip, T〈…〉〈…〉 vpon him m••ny a c••u••ll wound: And where they found a French not out-right slain•• They 〈…〉〈…〉im a prisoner con••••antly retaine.

Who scars•• a Shirt had but the day before, No•• a whole S••••cking to keepe out the cold, Hath a whole Wardrop at commend in store) In th•• French fash••on flanting it in gold, And in the ••auerne, in his C••ps doth rore, Chocking his Crowns and growes thereby so bo〈…〉〈…〉 That proudly he a Captaines name asiumes, In his gilt Gorget with his tossing Plumes.

Wagons and Carts are laden till they cracke▪ With Armes and Tents there taken in the field; For want of ••arridge on whose tops are pac••••, Ensignes, Coat-Armours, Targets, Speares, & Shields Nor need they conuoy f••a••ing to be sack••; For all the country to King Henry yeelds, And the poore peasant helpes along to beare, What late the goods of his proud Landlords were.

A Horse well furnisht for a present Warre: For a French Crowne might any where be bought, But if so be that he had any scarre, Though n••'r so small he valew'd was at naught; With spoyles so sated the proud English are; Amongst the slaine, that who for pillage sought, Except some rich Caparison he found, For a steele Saddle would not stoope to ground.

And many a hundred beaten downe that were, Whose wounds were mortal, others wondrous deep When as our English ouer▪past t••ey heare▪ And no man left a Watch on them to keepe, 〈…〉〈…〉to the Bushes, and the Ditches neare, ••pon their weake hands and their knees doe creepes But for their hurts tooke a••re▪ and were vndrest, They were found dead and buried with the rest▪

Thus when the King saw that the coast was clear'd▪ And of the French who were not flaine were fled, Nor in the field not any then appear'd, That had the power againe to make a head: This Conquerour exceedingly is cheer'd, Thanking his God that he so well had sped, And so towr'ds Callice brauely marching on, Leaueth sad France her losses to bemoane,

FINIS. The Battaile of Agin-Court.

Notes

• The law Sa¦lique was, that women should no•• i•• herite; wh•• law Edward the third •• his right to •• the Crowne by his mot•• cancelled w•• his sword: so much as at that ti•• made way his clarme, though in France th•• law bee in∣violable.
• Henry th•• so named •• Town in L•• colne Shi•• where he borne.
• Henry the fift borne Munmou•• in W••••••••.
• Dowglas in that battaile ••ew three in the Kings ••oat A••mo••••
• Wickliffe a learned Di∣uine, and the greatest Pro∣pestant of those times.
• A Parlia∣ment at Lei∣cester.
• Henry Chich¦ly succeeding Arund••ll (late dec••••¦sed) in that See.
• So they ter∣med it as un∣worthy of a better title.
• The Archbi∣shop of Can∣terburies Ora∣tion, to t•••• King•• ••nd Parliament at Lecester•• in the 〈…〉〈…〉 following Stanzaes.
• The Cr•••••••• of France de∣scended vpon Edward the third, from I∣sabell ••u Mo∣ther, Daugh∣tar and su••••••••∣••ing heire, to King Philip of France na∣med the faire.
• Iames, Daul∣p•••••••• of Vien∣noies. The Dukes of L••••raine & Burbon. The Earles of Aumerl••, Savoye, Mountbilli∣ard Flaun∣ders, Nevers, & ••••arcourt. King Iohn of France and Philip his son taken by the Blacke Prince, at the Battaile of Poyteers, brought Pri∣soners to •••• land. Iohn of Cleu∣mount. Peter of Burbon. Examples of such as haue aduan••d themselues to the Crowne of France, a∣gainst the strict letter of the lawe Salique, in two following Stanzaes.
• Ralph Neuill then warden of the Mar∣ches betwixt England and Scotland. An •••••• adag•• He that will France wi••▪ must with Scotland first beginne. The Duke of Excester the Kings owne ••••••••.
• The first brea••h with France.
• The Countries demanded by the King of England.
• The King and Daulphine of France, d••••••∣deth the King of Eng∣land.
• Henry the fist answered for the Tennis Balles.
• The lan∣guage of Ten∣nis.
• Blades ac∣counted of the best▪ tem∣••er▪
• Armed at all poynts▪
• Armings for the thigh and legge-
• Armings for the arme and shoulder.
• Great Ord∣nance then ••u•• newly in ••••••.
• Halfe th•••••••••• cutt of the Island, from the Spanish to the Ger∣man Ocean.
• Edward the third.
• The Soa be∣twixt France and England •••• called. A Catalogue of the S••ps in •••• Stanzaes.
• The names of the Kings 7. Ships of War
• An Indian Bird so great, that she is a∣ble to carrie an Elephant.
• The Bay of Portugal •• of the high working S•• that is know••••.
• A country ••••ng vpon ••e ••ast Sea, ordering vp∣on Poland. ••amous for ••••erring fish∣ng.
• ••ydes to the ••ing by the ••obility.
• a

  A blazon of the En∣signes of the seueral Shire•• in 14. Stan∣zas following.
• b

  Expressing their free∣dome, as still retaining their ancient liberties, by surprizing the Conque∣ror like a mouing wood.
• c

  An expres∣sion of King Harolds deat•• slaine with an Arrow i•• the head, at •• the Ba••ta•••••• of Hastings fighting a∣gainst the Conquerour.
• d

  The first fa∣mous Earle of that country.
• e

  Expressing the pleasant∣nesse of the scituation of that country, lying vpon the French Sea
• f

  At lying the fittest to ex∣pell or fore▪warne. Inua∣••••on.
• g

  Express••ng the delica••y of the Bath, their chiefe City.
• h The Armes of the anci∣ent Family of Clare Earle of Gloster borne by the City. Stonidge be∣ing the first wonder of England, standing in Wiltshire: An old Em∣••l••m•• of B••∣••••c••, or ••••rk∣shire.
• i

  A ••adge of the ancient Family of the Staffords, Dukes of that place.
• k

  Queene 〈…〉〈…〉 Founder-of the Crosse, wife to Constantine, and daughter to King Co••ll, builder of Colches〈…〉〈…〉 Essex.
• l

  Suffolke the most Easterly of the English shieres.
• m

  For the br••••: prospect to 〈…〉〈…〉 Germaine Ocean.
• a Hauing re∣lation to that famous Vni∣uersity their Shire townes.
• b

  The Armes of the Town•• somewhat al∣luding to th•• name.
• c

  The Armes of the towne of Hunting▪don, first so named of a place where Hunters met▪
• d

  The Armes of the towne.
• e

  From the a∣boundance of wool in that tract.
• f

  A sport more vsed in that shire from ancient time▪ then in any other.
• g

  For the length that it hath vpon the German Ocean.
• h

  The Bear and ragged Staffe, th•• Ancient Armes of that Earle∣dome.
• i

  For the abundance of fruite more there then in any other tract.
• k

  The fine〈…〉〈…〉 of the Wooll of Lemster in that shire
• l

  Many Hermites liued there in the woods in ti〈…〉〈…〉 pas••, it being all forrestrie.
• m

  Expressing the loftinesse of the mountaines in that S〈…〉〈…〉 on which many Hawkes were wont •••• ay••y.
• n

  That fa∣mous out▪law ••••••ed 〈…〉〈…〉ch in▪ that Country, and is yet by many places there Celebrated.
• o

  A••c••••nted o••••r the best Archers of England.
• p

  For their 〈…〉〈…〉 with the sp••are, & 〈…〉〈…〉 of their Nagg••.
• q

  Being ready stil in Armes against the Scots
• r

  Expressing the s••it•• ther∣••f ••uting ou•• into those dangerous S••••••, be∣twixt Eng∣land and Ire∣land
• s

  Their 〈…〉〈…〉 conflicts (〈…〉〈…〉) with the Scots, ex∣pr••ss••d in the fight between •••••• golden & ••••d Lyon▪
• a

  Milford Hauen in Penbrooke▪shi••••••, one of the 〈…〉〈…〉 harbours in the kno〈…〉〈…〉 world, there∣fore not vn∣aptly so ex∣pressed.
• b

  Partly Dut••••, partly English, part∣ly Welch.
• c

  Me•• i••, by whose birth and knowledg that towne •••• ma•••• f••mous
• d

  A watch Tower or pha∣rus, hauing the scituation wh•••••• Seuor•• beginneth to•• widden, as when Pirats haue come in to gi••e war∣ning to the other Mari∣tine Coun∣tryes.
• e

  For the glo∣ry it hath at∣tained to be the Kings birth-place, and to ex∣〈…〉〈…〉sse his principalities.
• f

  The Armes of Brecknocke.
• g

  Lying towards the mi••st of W••l•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 for abundance of Sheepe liuing on those high mountaines.
• g

  Lying towards the mi••st of W••l•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 for abundance of Sheepe liuing on those high mountaines.
• i

  For the abundance of G••ate•• 〈…〉〈…〉 those inac••essible Mountaines.
• h Expressing the scituation 〈…〉〈…〉 Sh••••r••, lying on the Maritine part vpon the Irish Sea.
• k

  The shiere breeding the best Horses of Wales
• l

  As 〈…〉〈…〉 it selfe to the great North or Deucal••∣donian Sea. in Expressing the abun∣dance of Corn and grasse, in that little Tract.
• A Simile of the Nauy.
• The braus so∣lemnity of the departing of the ••l••et
• The Nauy Landing in the mouth of Seyne.
• The br••ue en∣couragement of a ••o••ragi∣ous King.
• A charitable Proclamation made by the King.
• The Kings mayne Stan∣dard (for the p••nderousnes thereof,) eu•••• borne vpon a Carriage.
• The King makes his aproches on three parts.
• The King summons Harflew.
• Charles de A••bert, and Iohn Bowee∣qualt.
• A Simile of the French power.
• A discription of the siege of Harflewe, in the 19 fol∣lowing Stan∣zaes.
• Crosbowe Arrowes.
• The King of England en∣treth Har∣flew in tri∣umph.
• Hing Henry offereth to de∣cade his right by single com∣bat.
• A f••••••d found in the riuer of Soame.
• A counsill held at Roan against the King of England.
• A speech of the Duke A∣lanzon a∣gainst the English.
• The Duke of Berrys an∣swere to A∣lanzon.
• Yong mens counsails oft∣times proue the vtter sub∣uersion both of themselues and others.
• The French King sendeth ••o dare the King of Eng∣land to Bat∣taile.
• The King of Englands mo∣dest answere.
• A Simily of the rising of the French.
• Dauid Ga•• a great Cap∣taine in that Warre.
• The Duke of Yorke.
• The French scorning the English being so few in re∣spect of their mighty power.
• The ryot in the French Campe the night before the Battell.
• Pondering in hu thoughts hu Fathers comming to the crowne by deposing of the rightfull King. Henry the fift caused the body of King Rich∣ard to be ta∣ken vp, where it was mean∣ly buried at Langly, and to be layd in Westminster by his first. Wife, Queene Anne.
• The great are of a wise ••nd p••litike aptaine.
• This S••rat••∣gem the ouer∣throw of the French.
• The French mis-interpre•• the flight of Rauens ••oue∣ring ouer there owre 〈…〉〈…〉
• 〈…〉〈…〉 Marshal 〈…〉〈…〉 of the 〈…〉〈…〉ch Ar∣••y▪ ••ontai∣••••g three 〈…〉〈…〉.
• The Marshal ling of the English Ar∣my contai∣ning fiue Stanzaes.
• The brauery of King Hen∣ryes ow••e Person.
• The scornfull message of the French to the King of England▪
• The Kings answer to the French.
• The Consta∣bles Oration to the French
• The King of Englands O∣ration ••o the English.
• The high 〈…〉〈…〉 of the King of Eng∣land.
• Sir Thomas Erpingham gaue the sig∣nall to the English.
• A Simily of the French charging the English.
• The three hundred Ar∣••h••rs lay a in ambush, dis∣order the French men •••• Armes at the first encounter.
• Two wings of French horse defeated.
• The English Va••••ard and 〈…〉〈…〉 Bas∣••••••••e charge ••he French 〈…〉〈…〉 at 〈…〉〈…〉.
• Charles de 〈…〉〈…〉 Consta∣ble of F〈…〉〈…〉
• The A〈…〉〈…〉
• Th•• A••mi∣••all fl••••••••
• The Consta∣ble flaine.
• The ••••••••ag•• of Woodhouse remark••able.
• A Simily 〈…〉〈…〉 the appea∣rance of the Battell.
• The Duke of Burben and ••ri••ance to∣•••••• prisoners.
• 〈…〉〈…〉 of some Guis∣••ard the Daulphine of A••ag••n.
• The Daulphine of Auerney slaine. The Earle 〈…〉〈…〉 Ewe taken prisoner.
• The Duke of Yorke slaine.
• The King 〈…〉〈…〉 of the Duk of Yorks 〈…〉〈…〉.
• The Kings solution.
• The bloody scuffle be∣tweene the French and English, at the ioyning of the two maine Battailes in fiue S••anzaes.
• Called Cl••e•• of Brabant.
• The Earle of Suffolke char∣geth the Earle of Huntington with brea••h of promise.
• A desp〈…〉〈…〉 attempt by the Earle of Huntingdon.
• One braue •••• pl••ie•• beger∣teth another?
• The Earle of Suffolk 〈…〉〈…〉
• The English kill she French with their owne Weapons.
• The Duke of Glocester •••• 〈…〉〈…〉 by the Duke of Alanzon.
• The King of England in dan••e•• to be slan•• by the Duke of A∣lanzon.
• Alanzon bet∣ten downe by the King of England.
• The King kil le••o two Gen¦tlemen that aduenture to ••resene the Duke.
• The Duke Alanzon slaine.
• The Duke Neuers taken prisoner.
• Morrisby and Gam a•• con∣tention for the Duke of Neueres.
• Morrisby •••• b••auey •••• Knigh
• Dauid Ga•• oft mentioned in this P〈…〉〈…〉
• The Duke of Excester commeth in with the Reare.
• The Earle of Vandome slaine.
• Sir Thomas Erpingham getteth in with his three hundred A••∣••hers.
• The Marshal of France slaine.
• Co〈…〉〈…〉 Vada∣mount.
• The Duke of Brabant a most couragi∣ous Prince
• A bitter ex∣clamation of the Duke of Brabant a∣gainst the French.
• Anthony Duke of Bra∣bant sonne to the Duke of Burgundy.
• The valiant Duke of Bra∣bant slaine.
• Many of the French in ••hotr flight get ••••to an old Fort.
• The Kings slight answere.
• Woodhou•••• ••eereth at the attempt.
• Braues passe between Gam and Wood∣house.
• Ca••tain•• Gam ••••ai••e.
• For this ser∣uice done by Woodhouse▪ there was an addition of honour giuen him which was a hand holding•• club: with the word, Frappe Fort, which is borne by the Fami∣ly of the Woodhouse of Norfolke to t•••••• day.
• A deuis•• •••• Burbons to giue incou∣ragement to the French.
• A Simily of the, French.
• Lewis of Bur∣bon taken prison•• by a meane souldi∣our.
• Lewis of Bur∣bon st••bd by a Souldier that tooke him prisoner,
• The Lords Dampier an •• Sauesses ta∣taken priso∣ners.
• Arthur Earle of Richmount taken priso∣ner.
• The Count du Marle slaine.
• The misery of the French.
• The French forced to beare the wounded Eng∣lish on their backs.
• A 〈…〉〈…〉 of ras••al French 〈…〉〈…〉 the King Englands 〈…〉〈…〉
• The 〈…〉〈…〉.
• The English kill 〈…〉〈…〉 p••••∣soners.
• Ex〈…〉〈…〉ion.
• The French ••ause of their owne massa∣••hre. A discripti∣••n of the Massacre in the foure fol∣lowing Stan∣zaes.