AGINCOVRT.

Ceas’d was the Thunder, of those Drummes which wak’d Th’affrighted French their miseries to view, 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 Blades 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 olde Henry came by it; or howe At Pomfret Castell Richard should expire: What’s that to him? He hath the Garland now; Let Bullingbrook beware how he it wan, For Munmouth meanes to keepe it, if he can.

That glorious day, which his great Father got, Vpon the Percyes; calling to their ayde The valiant Dowglass, that Herculian Scot, When for his Crowne at Shrewsbury they playde, Had quite dishartned eu’ry other plot, And all those Tempests quietly had layde, That not a cloud did to this Prince appeare, No former King had seene a skye 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 Wickclif and his followers; to preuent The growth of whose opinions, and to free That foule Aspersion, which on her they layde, She her strongst witts must stirre vp to her ayde.

When presently a Parliament is calld To sett things steddy, that stood not so right, But that thereby the poore might be inthral’d, Should they be vrged by those that were of might, That in his Empire, equitie enstauld, It should continue in that perfect plight; Wherefore to Lester, he th’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’t; Which made those Church-men generally to feare, For all this calme, some tempest might be neare.

And being right skilfull, quickly they forsawe, No shallow braines this bus’nesse 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, Some thing 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 Prelacie diuise; (For well they knew, that in this bus’nesse, he Would to the vtmost straine his faculties;) Him lift they vp, with their maine strength, to proue By some cleane slight this Lybell to remoue.

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

Whilst vacant mindes sate in their breasts at ease, And the remembrance of their Conquests past, Vpon their fansies doth so strongly sease, As in their teeth, their Cowardise it cast Rehearsing to them those victorious daies, The deeds of which, beyond their names should last, That after ages, reading what was theirs, Shall hardly thinke, those men had any Heires.

And to this point, premeditating well, A speech, (which chanc’d, the very pinne to cleaue) Aym’d, whatsoeuer the successe befell That it no roomth should for a second leaue, More of this Title then in hand to tell, If so his skill him did not much deceaue, And gainst the King in publike should appeare; Thus frames his speech to the Assembly there.

Pardon my boldnesse, my Liedge Soueraine Lord, Nor your Dread presence let my speech offend, 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 keepe, Your right in France yet suffering still to sleepe.

Can such a Prince be in an Iland pent, And poorely thus shutt vp within a Sea. When as your right includes that large extent, To th’either Alpes your Empire forth to lay, Can he be English borne, and is not bent To follow you, appoint you but the way, Weele wade if we want ships, the waues or climme, In one hand hold our swords, with th’other swim.

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

What set that Conqueror, by their Salique Lawes, Those poore decrees their Parliaments could make, He entred on the 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, At 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 bloudy 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 Lewes King of Beame was ouerthrowne With valient Charles, of France the younger Brother, A Daulphine, and two Dukes, in pieces hewen; To them six Earles lay slaine by one another; There the grand Prior of France, fetcht his last groane, Two Archbishops the boystrous Croud doth smother, There fifteene thousand of their Gentrie dy’de With each two Souldiers, slaughtered by his side.

Nor the Blacke Prince, at Poyteers battaile fought; Short of his Father, and himselfe before, Her King and Prince, that prisoners hither brought 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 slaine Vnder the Standard, in that Battaile ta’ne.

Nor is this clayme for women to succeede, (Gainst which they would your right to France debarre) A thing so new, that it so much should neede Such opposition, as though fetcht from farre, By Pepin this is prou’d, as by a deede, Deposing Cheldrick, by a fatall warre, By Blythild dar’d his title to aduance, Daughter to Clothar, first so nam’d of France.

Hugh Capet, who from Charles of Lorayne tooke The Crowne of France, that he in peace might raigne, As heire to Lingard to her title stooke, Who was the daughter of King Charlemaine, So holy Lewes poring on his booke, Whom that Hugh Capet made his heire againe, From Ermingard his Grandame, claim’d the Crowne, Duke Charles his daughter, wrongfully put downe.

Nor thinke my Leege a fitter time then this, You could haue found your Title to aduance, At the full height when now the faction is, T’wixt Burgoyne, and the house of Orleance, Your purpose you not possibly can misse, It 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, My visuall sence, me thinkes in euery eye I see such cheere, as of our good successe In France hereafter seemes to Prophecie; Thinke not my Soueraigne, my Alegeance 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 powerfull 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, It made the English through the world belou’d, That durst to those so mighty things aspire, And gaue so cleere a luster to our fame, That neighbouring Nations trembled at our name.

When through the house, this rumor scarcely ran, 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 designe should any way be crost.

So much mens mindes, now vpon France were set That euery one doth with himselfe forecast, What might fall out this enterprize 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 vsde to tast) It question’d was if it were fit or no, To Conquer them, ere we to France should goe.

Which Ralph then Earle of Westmorland propos’d, 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 winne, Else of our selues, ere we our Ships can cleere, To land in France; they will inuade vs here.

Not so braue Neuill, Excester replies, For that of one two labours were to make, For Scotland wholly vpon France relies; First, Conquer France, and Scotland yee may take, Tis the French pay, the Scot to them that tyes, That stopt, asunder quickly yee 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 Those 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 demand he makes, With Aquitane, a Dutchy no lesse great, Aniou, and Mayne, with Gascoyne which he takes Cleerely his owne, as any English seat; With these proud France, he first of all awakes, For their deliuery, giuing power to treat; For well he knew, if Charles should these restore, No King of France was euer left so poore.

The King, and Daulphin, to his proud demand, That he might see they no such matter ment, As a thing fitter for his youthfull hand; A Tunne of Paris Tennis balls him sent, Better himselfe to make him vnderstand, Deriding his ridiculous intent: And that was all the answere he could get, Which more, the King doth to this Conquest whet.

That answering the Ambassadour, quoth he, Thanks for my Balls, to Charles your Soueraigne giue, And thus assure him, and his sonne from me, I’le send him Balls and Rackets if I liue, That they such Racket shall in Paris see, When ouer lyne with Bandies I shall driue, As that before the Set be fully done, France may (perhaps) into the Hazard runne.

So little doth luxurious France fore-see By her disdaine, what shee vpon her drew: In her most brauery seeming then to be, The punishment that shortly should ensue, Which so incenst the English King, that he For full reuenge into that fury grew: That those three horrors, Famine, Sword, and Fire, Could not suffice to satisfie his ire.

In all mens mouthes now was no word but warre, 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 ’twas a shame For any man to take in hand to doe Ought, but some thing that did belong thereto.

Olde Armours are drest vp, and new are made; Iacks are in working, and strong shirts of Male, He scowers an olde Fox, he a Bilbowe blade, Now Shields and Targets onely are for sale; Who works for warre, now thriueth by his Trade, The browne Bill, and the Battell-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, (E’r full wrought vp their Roomthynesse to try) Windowes, and Towers, with Ensignes are inricht, With ruffling Banners, that doe braue the sky, Wherewith the wearied Labourer bewitcht To see them thus hang wauing in his eye: His toylsome burthen from his back doth throwe, And bids them worke that will, to France hee’ll goe.

Rich Saddles for the Light-horse and the Bard For to be brau’st there’s not a man but plyes, Plumes, Bandroules, and 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 Pykes plac’t close, or large, Which way to take aduantage in the Charge.

One traynes his Horse, another trayles his Pyke, 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 hight: The Trumpets sound the Charge and the Retreat, The bellowing Drumme, the Martch againe doth beat.

Cannons vpon their Caridge 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 sonne 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 he an Ensigne wonne, Which many a yeare was hung vp in the Quire: And in the Battell, where he made his way, How many French men he struck downe that day.

The good old man, with teares of ioy would tell, In Cressy field what prizes Edward play’d, As what at Poycteers the Black Prince befell, How like a Lyon, he about him layd: In deedes of Armes how Awdley did excell, For their olde sinnes, how they the French men payd: How brauely Basset did behaue him there: How Oxford charg’d the Van, Warwick the Reare.

And Boy, quoth he, I haue heard thy Grandsire say, That once he did an English Archer see, Who shooting at a French twelue score away, Quite through the body, stuck him to a Tree; Vpon their strengths a King his Crowne might lay: Such were the men of that braue age, quoth he, When with his Axe he at his Foe let driue, Murriain and scalpe downe to the teeth did riue.

The scarlet Iudge might now set vp his Mule, With neighing Steeds the Streetes so pestred are; For where he wont in Westminster to rule, On his Tribunal sate the man of Warre, The Lawyer to his Chamber doth recule, For be 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 Counsell of this Warre had met, And had at large of eu’ry thing discust; And the graue Clergie had with them beene set: To warrant what they vndertook was iust, And as for monies that to be no let, They bad the King for that to them to trust: The Church to pawne, would see her Challice layde, E’r shee would leaue one Pyoner vnpayde.

From Milford Hauen, to the mouth of Tweed, Ships of all burthen to Southampton brought, For there the King the Rendeuous decreed To beare aboard 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, Where his great Grandsire landed had before.

But, for he found those vessels were to fewe, That into France his Army should conuay: He sent to Belgia, whose great store he knewe, Might now at neede supply him euery way. His bounty ample, as the windes that blewe, Such Barkes for Portage out of eu’ry bay In Holland, Zealand, and in Flanders, brings; As spred the wide sleeue with their canuase wings.

But first seauen Ships from Rochester are sent, The narrow Seas, of all the French to sweepe: All men of Warre 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 flewe: The Antilop, the Elephant, Defence, Bottoms as good as euer spread a clue: All hauing charge, their voyage hauing bin, Before Southampton to take Souldiers in.

Twelue Merchants Ships, of mighty burthen all, New off the Stocks, that had beene rig’d for Stoad, Riding in Thames by Lymehouse and Blackwall That ready were their Merchandize to load, Straitly 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 lent, With Spanish Wines which they for Ballast lade, In happy speed of his braue Voyage ment, Hoping his Conquest should enlarge their Trade, And there-withall a rich and spacious Tent: And as, this Fleet 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 Strayts had past, Two wealthy Spanish Merchants did her owne, Who then but lately had repair’d her wast; For from her Deck a Pyrate she had blowne, After a long Fight, and him tooke at last: And from Mounts Bay sixe more, that still in sight, Wayted with her before the Ile of Wight.

From Plymmouth next came in the Blazing Starre, And fiery Dragon to take in their fraught; With other foure, especiall men of Warre, That in the Bay of Portugall had fought; And though returning from a Voyage farre, Stem’d that rough Sea, when at the high’st it wrought: With these, of Dertmouth seau’n good Ships there were, The golden Cressant in their tops that beare.

So Lyme, three Ships into the Nauy sent, Of which the Sampson scarse a mon’th before, Had sprung a Planke, and her mayne Mast had spent, With extreame perill that she got to shore; With them fiue other out of Waymouth went, Which by Southampton, were 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 that beet, Offring to Sack them as they sayl’d for Sluce: Six Hulks from Hull at Humbers mouth them meet, Which had them oft accompanied to Pruce. Fiue more from Yarmouth falling them among, That had for Fishing beene prepared long.

The Cowe of Harwich, neuer put to flight, For Hides, and Furres, late to Muscouia bound, Of the same Port, another nam’d the Spight, That in her comming lately through the Sound, After a two-dayes-still-continued fight, Had made three Flemings runne themselues a ground; With three neat Flee-boats which with them doe take, Six Ships of Sandwich vp the Fleet to make.

Nine Ships for the Nobility there went, Of able men, the enterprize to ayde, Which to the King most liberally they lent, At their owne charge, and bountifully payde, Northumberland, and Westmerland in sent Fourescore at Armes a peece, themselues and layde At six score Archers each, as Suffolke showes, Twenty tall men at Armes, with forty Bowes.

Warwick 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 with their owne store: Their forwardnesse fore-showes 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, Berckley, Powis, Burrell, fast together cling; Seymer, 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 fitly them bestow’d, Which with the other fall into the Road.

From Holland, Zeland, and from Flanders wonne 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, Show’d as the Sea had all beene of a flame; For Skiffes, Crayes, Scallops, and the like, why these From eu’ry small Creeke, cou’red all the Seas.

The man whose way from London hap’d to lye, By those he met might guesse the generall force, Daily 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 mere remorce: And still the acclamation of the presse, Saint George for England, to your good successe.

There might a man haue seene in eu’ry 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 greete: 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 coruetting Coursers mounted faire, One ware his Mistris Garter, one her Gloue; And he a lock of his deare Ladies haire; And he her Colours, whom he most did loue; There was not one but did some Fauour weare: And each one tooke it, on his happy speede, To make it famous by some Knightly deede.

The cloudes of dust, that from the wayes arose, Which in their martch, the trampling Troupes doe reare: When as the Sunne their thicknesse doth oppose In his descending, shining wondrous cleare, To the beholder farre off standing showes Like some besieged Towne, that were on fire: As though fore-telling e’r they should returne, That many a Citie yet secure must burne.

The well-rig’d Nauie falne into the Road, For this short Cut with victuall fully stor’d, 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 waftage to and fro.

To be imbarqu’d when euery Band comes downe, Each in their order as they mustred were, Or by the difference of their ^aArmings knowne, Or by their Colours; for in Ensignes there, Some wore the Armes of their most ancient Towne, Others againe their owne Diuises beare, There was not any, but that more or lesse, Something had got, that something should expresse.

First, in the ^bKentish Stremer was a Wood, Out of whose 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. ^cSussex the next that was to come Aboard Bore a Blacke Lyon Rampant, sore that bled, With a Field-Arrow darted through the head.

The men of ^dSurrey, Cheeky Blew and gold, (Which for braue Warren their first Earle they wore, In many a Field that honour’d was of olde:) And Hamshere next in the same Colours bore, Three Lions Passant, th’ Armes of Beuis bould, Who through the World so famous was of yore; A siluer^e Tower, Dorsets Red Banner beares; The Cornishmen two Wrestlers had for theirs.

The ^fDeuonshire Band, a Beacon set on fire, Sommerset ^ga Virgine bathing in a Spring, Their Cities Armes, the men of Glostershire, In Gold three ^hBloudy Cheuernells doe bring; Wiltshire a Crowned^a Piramed; As nigher Then any other to martch to the King; Barkshire a ^bStag, vnder an Oake that stood, Oxford a White Bull wading in a Flood.

The mustred men for ^cBuckingham, are gone Vnder the Swan, the Armes of that olde Towne, The Londoners, and Middlesex as one, Are by the Red Crosse, and the Dagger knowne; The Men of ^dEssex ouermatch’d by none, Vnder Queene Hellens Image Martching downe; ^eSuffolke a Sunne halfe risen from the brack, ^fNorfolke a Triton on a Dolphines backe.

The Souldiers sent from ^gCambridgshire, a Bay Vpon a Mountaine watred with a shower: Hartford^h two Harts that in a Riuer play; Bedfords an Eagle pearcht vpon a Tower, And ⁱHuntington a People proud as they, Not giuing place to any for their power, A youthfull Hunter, with a Chaplet Crown’d, In a pyde Lyam leading forth his Hound.

Northampton^k with a Castle seated high, Supported by two Lyons thither came; The men of ^lRutland, to them marching nie, In their rich Ensigne beare an Ermine Ram, And ^mLestershire that on their strength relye, A Bull and Mastiue fighting for the game. Lincolneⁿ a Ship most neatly that was lim’d In all her Sailes with Flags and Pennons trim’d.

Stout^a Warwickshire, her ancient badge the Beare, Worster^b a Peare-Tree laden with the Fruit, A Golden Fleece and^c Hereford doth weare, Stafford^d a Hermet in his homely sute, Shropshire^e a Falcon towring in the Ayre, And for the Shiere whose surface seems most brute, Darby, an Eagle sitting on a Roote, A swathed Infant holding in her foote.

Olde^f 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 olde Robin Hood, And^g Lancashire not as the least I weene, Thorough three Crownes, three Arrowes smear’d with blood: Cheshiere a Banner very square and broad, Wherein a man vpon a Lyon rode.

A flaming Lance, the^h Yorkshiere men for them, As those for Durham neere againe at hand, A Myter crowned with a Diadem: An Armed man, the men ofⁱ Cumberland: So^k Westmerland link’d with it in one Stem, A Ship that wrackt lay fierd vpon the sand: Northumberland^l with these com’n as a Brother, Two Lyons fighting tearing one another.

Thus as themselues the English men had show’d Vnder the Ensigne of each seu’rall 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.

^aPembrooke, a Boat wherein a Lady stood, Rowing her selfe within a quiet Bay; Those men of South-Wales of the ^bmixed blood, Had of the Welch the leading of the way: Caermardin^c in her Colours beare a Rood, Whereon an olde man lean’d himselfe to stay At a Starre pointing; which of great renowne, Was skilfull Merlin, namer of that Towne.

^dClamorgan men, a Castell great and hie, From which, out of the Battlement aboue, A flame shot vp it selfe into the skye: The men of ^eMunmouth (for the ancient loue To that deare Country; neighbouring 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 ^fBrecknock brought a Warlick Tent, Vpon whose top there sate a watchfull Cock, Radnor,^g a mountaine of a high assent, Thereon a Shepheard keeping of his Flock, As ^hCardigan the next to them that went, Came with a Mermayde sitting on a Rock, And ⁱMerioneth beares (as these had done) Three dancing Goates against the rising Sunne.

Those of ^aMontgomery, beare a prancing Steed, Denbigh^b a Neptune with his three-fork’d Mace: Flintshiere^c a Workmayd in her Summers weed, With Sheafe and Sickle (with a warlick pace) Those of Caernaruon not the least in speed, Though marching last (in the mayne Armies face) Three golden Eagles in their Ensigne brought, Vnder which oft braue Owen Guyneth fought.

The Seas amazed at the fearefull sight, Of Armes, and Ensignes, that aboard were brought, Of Streamers, Banners, Pennons, Ensignes pight, Vpon each Pup 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 Fleet then full, and floating on the Maine, The numerous Masts, with their braue Topsailes spred, When as the Winde a little doth them straine, Seeme like a Forrest bearing her proud head Against some rough flawe, that forerunns a raine; So do they looke from euery loftie sted, Which with the Surges tumbled too and fro, Seeme (euen) to bend, as trees are seene to doe.

From euery Ship when as the Ordnance rore, Of their depart, that all might vnderstand, When as the zealous people from the shore, Againe with fires salute them from the Land, For so was order left with them before, To watch the Beacons, with a carefull hand, Which being once fierd, the people more or lesse, Should all to Church, and pray for their successe.

They shape their Course into the Month of Seyne, That destin’d Flood those Nauies to receiue, Before whose fraught her France had prostrate laine, As now she must this, that shall neuer leaue, Vntill the Engines that it doth containe, Into 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 Boates with Scouts are put to land before, Vpon light Naggs the Countrey to discry, (Whilst the braue Army setting is on shore,) To view what strength the enemy had nie, Pressing the bosome of large France so sore, That 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, Roan, and Orleance, she calls, And at their gates with gronings doth complaine: Then cries she out, O get vp to your walls: The English Armies are return’d againe, Which in two Battailes gaue those fatall falls, At Cressie, 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 vnderstood, Of Henries entrance, (but too well improu’d,) He cleerly saw that deere must be the blood, That it must cost, e’r he could be remou’d; He sends to make his other Sea Townes good, Neuer before so much it him behou’d; In eu’ry 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 easl’est see, With sprightly words, and thus their courage whets, In yonder walls be Mynes of gold (quoth he) He’s a poore Slaue, that thinkes of any debts; Harflew shall pay for all, it ours shall be: This ayre of France doth like me wondrous well, Lets burne our Ships, for here we meane to dwell.

But through his Hoast, he first of all proclaim’d In paine of death, no English man should take From the Religious, aged, or the maym’d, Or women that could no resistance make: To gaine his owne for that he onely aym’d; Nor would haue such to suffer for his sake: Which in the French (when they the same did heare) Bred of this braue King, a religious feare.

His Army rang’d, in order fitting warre, Each with some greene thing doth his Murrian crowne, With his mayne standard fixt vpon the Carre; Comes the great King before th’intrenched Towne, Whilst from the walls the people gazing are, In all their sights he sets his Army downe; Nor for their shot he careth not a pin, But seekes where he his Battery may begin.

And into three, his Army doth diuide, His strong aproaches on three parts to make; Himselfe on th’one, Clarence on th’other side, To Yorke and Suffolke he the third doth take, The Mines the Duke of Glocester doth guide; Then caus’d his Ships the Riuer vp to Stake, That none with Victuall should the Towne relieue Should the Sword faile, with Famine them to grieue.

From his Pauillion where he sate in State, Arm’d for the Siedge, and buckling on his Shield, Braue Henry sends his Herault to the Gate, By Trumpets sound, to summon them to yeeld, And to accept his Mercy, ere to late, Or 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 sudaine put into a fright, With the sad newes of Harflew in distresse, Whose inexpected, miserable plight, She on the suddaine, knew not to redresse, But vrg’d to doe the vtmost that she might, The peoples feares and clamours to suppresse, Raiseth a power with all the speede she could, Somewhat thereby, to loose King Henries hold.

The Marshall, and the Constable of France, Leading those Forces levied 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 ingirt with fires, They with their powers to Cawdebeck retire.

Like as a Hinde when shee her Calfe doth see, Lighted by chance into a Lions 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 be, (Shee so instructed is by Natures Lawes:) With them so fares it, which must needs goe downe If they would fight; and yet must loose the Towne:

Now doe they mount their Ordnance for the day, Their scaling Ladders rearing to the walls, Their battering Rammes against the gates they lay, Their brazen slings send in the wilde-fire balls, Baskets of twigs now carie stones and clay, And to th’assault who furiously not falls; The Spade and Pickax working are belowe, Which then vnfelt, yet gaue the greatest blowe.

Rampiers of earth the painefull Pyoners raise With the walls equall, close vpon the Dike, To passe by which the Souldier that assayes, On Planks thrust ouer, one him downe doth strike: Him with a mall a second English payes, A second French transpearc’d him with a Pyke: That from the height of the embattel’d Towers, Their mixed blood ranne downe the walls in showers.

A French man back into the Towne doth fall, With a sheafe Arrow shot into the head; An English man in scaling of the wall, From the same place is by a stone struck dead; Tumbling vpon them logs of wood, and all, That any way for their defence might sted: The hills at hand re-ecchoing with the din Of shouts without, and fearefull shrickes 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 thick as haile; As thick againe their Shafts the English send: The bellowing Canon from both sides doth rore, With such a noyse as makes the Thunder pore.

Now vpon one side you should 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 doe, Then with th’assaults aboue, the other two.

An olde 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 her little new-borne Babe the Pap: A lucklesse quarry leueld at the Towne, Kills the sweet Baby sleeping in her lap, That with the fright shee falls into a swoone, From which awak’d, and mad with the mishap; As vp a Rampire 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, Call’d from where they were fighting in the Trench; They in their way with Balls of Wilde-fire meet, So plagued are the miserable French, Not aboue head, but also vnder feet: For the fierce English vowe the Towne 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 torne: Into a Breach who quickly is not gone; Is by the next behind him ouer-borne: So that they found a place that gaue them way, They neuer car’d what danger therein lay.

From eu’ry Quarter they their course must plye, As’t pleas’d the King them to th’assault to call: Now on the Duke of Yorke the charge doth lye: To Kent and Cornwall then the turne doth fall: Then Huntingdon vp to the walls they crye: Then Suffolke, and then Excester; which all In their meane Souldiers habits vs’d to goe, Taking such part as those that own’d them doe.

The men of Harflew rough excursions make, Vpon the English watchfull in their Tent, Whose courages they to their cost awake, With many a wound that often back them sent, So proud a Sally that durst vndertake, And in the Chase pell 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 Mynes, the walls to ouerthrowe. The French men their approches that espye, By Countermynes doe meete with them belowe, And as opposed in the Workes they lye: Vp the Besieged the Besiegers blowe, That stifled quite, with powder as with dust, Longer to walls they found it vaine to trust.

Till Gaucourt then, and Tuttivile that were The Townes Commanders, (with much perill) finde The Resolution that the English beare; As how their owne to yeelding were enclinde, Summon to parly, off’ring frankly there; If that ayde came not by a day assignde, To giue the Towne vp, might their liues stand free: As for their goods, at Henries will to be.

And hauing wonne their conduct to the King, Those hardy Chiefes on whom the charge had layne: Thither those well-fed Burgesses doe bring, What they had off’red strongly to maintaine In such a case, although a dang’rous thing, Yet they so long vpon their knees remaine: That fiue dayes respight from his Grant they haue, Which was the most, they (for their liues) durst craue.

The time perfixed comming to expire, And their reliefe ingloriously delay’d: Nothing within their sight 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 Henries mercy found that they must trust, For they perceiu’d their owne to be iniust.

The Ports are opened, weapons layd aside, And from the walls th’Artillary displac’d: The Armes of England are aduanc’d in pride: The watch Tower, with Saint Georges Banner grac’d: Liue Englands Henry, all the people cride: Into the Streetes their women runne in hast, Bearing their little Children, for whose sake They hop’d the King would the more mercy take.

The gates thus widened with the breath of Warre; Their ample entrance to the English gaue: There was no dore that then had any barre; 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 sawe, Wherein such mercy was, with so much awe.

And first themselues the English to secure, Doubting what danger might be yet within; The strongest Forts, and Citadell make sure, To showe that they could keepe as well as win, And though the spoyles them wondrously alure, To fall to pillage e’r they will begin, They shut each passage, by which any power Might be brought on to hinder, but an hower.

That Conquering King which entring at the gate, Borne by the presse 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 thankes, for his first good successe.

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 young Daulphine to decide his right.

Eight dayes at Harflew he doth stay to heare, What answere back, his Herauld him would bring: 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 forth his way, And takes such Townes, as in his Iourneyes lay.

But first his bus’nesse he doth so contriue, To curbe the Townes-men, should they chance to stirre Of Armes, and Office he doth them depriue, And to their roomes the English doth preferre: Out of the Ports all Vagrants he doth driue, And therein sets his Vnckle Excester: This done, to martch he bids the thundring Drummes, To scourge proud France whẽ now her Cõqueror comes.

The King and Daulphine hauing vnderstood, How on his way this haughty Henry was Ouer the Soame, which is a dangerous flood; Pluckt downe the Bridges that might giue him passe; And eu’ry thing, if fit for humane food, Caus’d to be forrag’d; (to a wondrous masse) And more then this, his Iourneyes to fore-slowe, He scarce one day vnskirmish’d with, doth goe.

But on his march, in midst of all his foes; He like a Lyon keepes them all at bay, And when they seeme him strictly to enclose; Yet through the thick’st he hewes him out a way: Nor the proud Daulphine dare him to oppose; Though 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, Marching along vpon Soames Marshy side, His men at Armes on their tall Horses proue, To finde some shallow, ouer where to ryde, But all in vaine against the Streame they stroue, Till by the helpe of a laborious guide, A Ford was found to set his Army ore Which neuer had discouered beene before.

The newes divulg’d that he had waded Soame, And safe to shore his Caridges had brought, Into the Daulphins bosome strooke so home, And one the weakenesse of King Charles so wrought; 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 heapt Gainst those which should the passages haue kept.

And at that time, both resident in Roan, Thither for this assembling all the Peeres, Whose Counsailes now must vnderprop their Throne Against the Foe; which, not a man but feares; Yet in a moment confident are growne, When with fresh hopes, each one his fellow cheeres, That ere the English to their Callis got, Some for this spoile should pay a bloudy shot.

Therfore they both in solemne Counsaile satt, With Berry and with Britaine their Alies; Now speake they of this course, and then of that, As to insnare him how they might diuise; Something they faine would doe, but know not what, 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 worthy 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 valour bring, To call a Counsaile for so poore a thing.

A Route of tatter’d Rascalls starued so, As forced through extreamity 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, there Armes disabled are to sway, But in their march doe leaue them on the way.

And to our people but a handfull are, Scarse thirtie thousand, when to Land they came, Of which to England dayly some repayre, 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 Fowles vpon their Carkases 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 deede: Vnder our Swords together let them fall, And one 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 showe: Which when the murmure somewhat was appeas’d, After a while their listning silence breakes, And thus in answere of Alanzon speakes.

My Liedge, quoth he, and you my Lords, and Peeres, Whom this great businesse chiefely doth concerne, By my experience, now so many yeeres To know the English I am not to learne; Nor I more feeling haue of humane feares Than fitteth Manhood, nor doe hope to earne Suffrage from any; but by zeale am wonne, To speake my minde here, as the Duke hath done.

Th’euents of Warre 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 on, You else but slay them, that would faine be gon.

I like our Forces their first course should hold, To skirmish with them, vpon euery stay, But fight by no meanes with them, though they would, Except they finde them forraging for pray, So still you haue them shut vp in a Fould, And still to Callis keepe them in their way; So Fabius wearied Hanibal, so we May English Henry, pleased if you be.

And of the English rid your Countrey cleane, If on their backs, but Callice walles they win, Whose Frontier Townes you easly 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, Ere with Supplys againe they can inuade, Spent in the Voyage lately hither made.

That day at Poyteers, in that bloudy Field, The sudaine turne in that great Battell then, Shall euer teach me, whilest I Armes can weeld, Neuer to trust to multitudes of men; Twas the first day that ere I wore a Sheeld, Oh let me neuer see the like agen! Where their Blacke Edward such a Battell wonne 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, Yet 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 said: 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 obay’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 downe, In which their Battailes, should dispose the Crowne.

This newes to Henry by the Herault brought, As one dispassion’d soberly (quoth he) Had your King pleas’d, we sooner might haue fought; For now my Souldiers much enfeebled be: 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, Thinking the English downe so farre to tred, As past that day ne’r more to rise in Armes, T’extirpe the name, if possible it were, At least not after to be heard of there.

As when you see the enuious Crowe espye, Something that shee doth naturally detest: With open throat how shee doth squall and crye; And from the next Groue calleth in the rest, And they for those beyond them bawling flye, Till their foule noyse doth 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 tolde, With what an Host he should encountred be, Gam noting well, the King did him behold, In the reporting; Merrily (quoth he) My Liege I’le tell you if I may be bold, We 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, Lest they his Army should disordred take: The King who wisely doth the worst forecast, His speedy martch doth presently forsake, Into such forme and his Battalion cast; That 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 Vanward light, Which York, 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 forth from his couragious Band, To view the French, whose numbers ouer spread, The troubled Country on whose earth they tread.

Now were both Armies got vpon that ground, As on a Stage, where they their strengthes must trye, Whence from the wydth of many a gaping wound, There’s many a soule into the Ayre must flye: Meane while the English that some ease had found; By the aduantage of a Village nie, There set them downe the Battell to abide, Where they the place had strongly fortifide.

Made drunke with pride the haughty French disdaine, Lesse then their owne, a multitude to view, Nor aske of God the victory to gaine, Vpon the English wext so poore and fewe, To stay their slaughter thinking it a paine, And lastly to that insolence they grewe, 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 binde, For to perpetuall slau’ry they intend: Those that aliue they on the Field should finde, So much as that they fear’d lest they should spend Too many English, wherefore they assignde Some to keepe fast those, fayne that would be gon After the Fight, to try their Armes vpon.

One his bright sharpe-eg’d Semiter doth showe, Off’ring to lay a thousand Crownes (in pride) That he two naked English at one blowe, Bound back to back will at the wasts diuide, Some bett his sword will do’t, some others no, After the Battaile, and they’ll haue it tride: Another wafts his Blade about his head, And shewes them how their hamstrings he will shread.

They part their prisoners, passing them for debt, And in their Ransome ratibly accord To a Prince of ours, a Page of theirs they set; And a French Lacky to an English Lord; As for our Gentry them to hyre they’ll let, And 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 slay.

And cast to make a Chariot for the King, Painted with Antickes, and ridiculous toyes, In which they meane to Paris him to bring, To make sport to their Madames and their Boyes, And will haue Rascalls, Rymes of him to sing, Made in his mock’ry; and in all these ioyes, They bid the Bells to ring, and people crie, Before the Battaile, France and Victorie.

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 times 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 with dread Of their Arm’d Pykes, some sharpning are the pyles, The Archer grinding his barb’d Arrow head: Their Bills and Blades, some whetting are with Files: And some their Armours strongly Riueted: Some pointing Stakes to stick into the ground, To guard the Bow-men, and their Horse to wound.

The night fore-running this most dreadfull day: The French that all to iollity encline: Some fall to dancing, some againe to play: And some are drinking to this great Designe: But all in pleasure spend the night away: The Tents with lights, the Fields with Boone-fires shine: The common Souldiers Free-mens Catches sing: With showtes and laughter all the Campe doth ring.

The wearied English watchfull o’r their Foes, (The depth of night then drawing on so fast) That fayne a little would themselues repose, With thanks 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 restlesse 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 minde, Lord doe 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 desend, When as his body I translated haue, And buried in an honourable Graue.

These things thus pondring, sorrow-ceasing sleepe, From cares to rescue his much troubled minde, Vpon his Eye-lids stealingly doth creepe, And in soft slumbers euery sense doth binde, (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 crowne.

His glittering wings he gloriously displaies, Ouer the Hoste as euery way it lyes With golden Dreames their trauell, and repaies, This Herault from the Rector of the skies, In Vision warnes 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 drewe 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 ere 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 for 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 Hoste aduantage by the ground.

Where twas his hap a Quicksett hedge to view, Well growne in height; and for his purpose thin, Yet by the Ditch vpon whose banke it grew, He found it to be difficult to winne, Especially if those of his were true, Amongst the shrubbs that he should set within, By which he knew their strength 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 valient of their hand, And to be so imployed, as would reioyce, Appointing them behinde the hedge to stand, To shrowde themselues from sight, and to be mute, Vntill a signall freely bad them shute.

The gamesome Larke now got vpon her Wing, As twere the English earely to awake, And to wide heauen her cheerefull notes doth sing, As shee 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 seem 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 haste inforceth them to make, When with their croaking all the Countrey rong, Which boaded slaughter as the most doe say, But by the French it turned was this way.

That this diuyning 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 kill’d, Then little thinking that these came in deed On their owne mangled Carkases to feed.

When soone the French preparing for the Field, Their armed troops are setting in array, Whose wondrous numbers they can hardly weeld, The place too little wherevpon they lay, They therefore to necessitie must yeeld, And into Order put them as they may, Whose motion sounded like to Nilus fall, That the vaste 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, Some for their place, some for their birth-right stand, The Daulphine of Averney (to aduance His worth and honour) of a puissant hand: The Earle of Ewe in Warre that had beene bred, These mighty men the mighty Vanward led.

The mayne brought forward by the Duke of Barre, Neuers, and Beamont, men of speciall name: Alanzon thought, not equall’d in this Warre, With them Salines, Rous, and Grandpre came, Their 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, The Earles of Marle, and Faconbridge the Reare, To Arthur Earle of Richmount’s selfe alone, They leaue the Right wing to be guided there: Lewes of Burbon, second yet to none, Led on the left; with him that mighty Peere The Earle of Vandome, who of all her men Large France entytled, her great Master then.

The Duke of Yorke the English Vanward guides, Of our strong Archers, that consisted most; Which with our Horse was wing’d on both the sides: T’affront so great and terrible an Host; There valiant Fanhope, and there Beamount 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’accomplish mighty things; Who to the Field came in such brau’ry dight: As to the English boades succesfull luck Before one stroke, on either side was struck.

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 deckt, Which through the Field their Radient fiers reflect.

The Duke of Gloster neere to him agen, T’assist his Brother in that dreadfull day, Oxford and Suffolke both true Marshiall 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 blood, 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 diuis’d the Archers to defend, Pointed with Iron and of fiue foote long; To be remou’d still which way they should bend, Where the French Horse should thick’st vpon them throng Which when the Host to charge each other went, Show’d his great wit that first did them inuent.

Both Armies sit, and at the point to fight, The French themselues assuring of 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: I 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 me.

The French which found how little Henry makes, Of their vaine boasts, as set therewith on fire, Whilst each one to his Ensigne him betakes; The Constable to raise their spleene the hyer, Thus speakes: Braue friends now for your Grandsires sakes, Your Country, Honours, or what may inspire Your soules with courage, straine vp all your powers, To make this day victoriously ours.

Forward stout French, your valours and aduance, By taking vengeance for our Fathers slaine, And strongly fixe the Diadem of France, Which to this day vnsteady doth remaine: Now with your swords their Traytours bosomes lance, And with their bloods wash out that ancient staine, And make our earth drunke with the English gore, Which hath of ours oft surfited before.

Let not one liue in England once to tell, What 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 Drummes began so lowd 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 wey; 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 I’le Conquer, or here end my dayes.

It were no glory for vs to subdue Them, then our number, were the French no more; When in one Battaile twice our Fathers slue, 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 renowne, And with their swords we’ll hewe yan Forrest downe.

The meanest Souldier if in Fight he 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 and our Cause, Saint George for England stands, Now Charge them English, fortune guide your hands.

When hearing one wish all the valiant men At home in England, with them present were; The King makes answere instantly agen, I would not haue one man more then is here: If we subdue, lesse should our praise be then: If ouercome, lesse losse shall England beare: And to our numbers we should giue that deede, Which must from Gods owne powerfull hand proceede.

The dreadfull Charge the Drummes & Trumpets sound, With hearts exalted, though with humbled eyes, When as the English kneeling on the ground, Extend their hands vp to the glorious skyes; Then from the earth as though they did rebound, Actiue as fire immediatly they rise: And such a shrill showt from their throats they sent, As made the French to stagger as they went.

Wherewith they stopt, when Erpingham which led The Armie, sawe, the showt had made them stand, Wafting his Warder thrice about his head, He cast it vp with his auspicious hand, Which was the signall through the English spread, That they should Charge: which as a dread command Made them rush on, yet with a second rore, Frighting the French worse then they did before.

But when they sawe the Enemie so slowe, Which they expected faster to come on, Some scattering Shot they sent out as to showe, That their approach they onely stood vpon; Which with more feruour made their rage to glowe, So 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 Tide, Shou’d by some Tempest that from Sea doth rise At the full height, against the ragged side Of so me rough Cliffe (of a Gigantick 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 dispierce their force.

When as those Archers there in Ambush layde, Hauing their Broad side as they came along, With their barb’d Arrowes the French Horses payde: And in their flankes like cruell Hornets stong: They kick and crie, of late that proudly nayde: And from their seats 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 makes, 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 Rank 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: Some breake their Raynes, and thence their Riders beare: Some with their feete stick in the Stirups fast, By their fierce Iades, are trayled here and there: Entangled in their Bridles, one back drawes, And pluckes the Bit out of anothers iawes.

With showers of Shafts yet still the English ply The French so fast, vpon the point of flight: With the mayne Battell yet stood Henry by, Not all this while had medled in the Fight, Vpon the Horses as in Chase they flye, Arrowes so thick, in such aboundance light, That their broad buttocks men like Butts might see, Whereat for pastime Bow-men shooting be.

When soone De Linnies and Sureres hast, To ayde their friends put to this shamefull foyle, With two light wings of Horse which had beene plac’t, Still to supply where any should recoyle: But yet their Forces they but vainely waste, For being light, into the generall spoyle. Great losse De Linnies shortly doth sustaine, Yet scapes himselfe; but braue Sureres slaine.

The King who sees how well his Vanguard sped, Sends his command that instantly it stay, Desiring Yorke so brauely that had led, To hold his Souldiers in their first array, For it the Conflict very much might sted, Somewhat to fall aside, and giue him way, Till full vp to him he might bring his power, And make the Conquest compleate in an hower.

Which Yorke obayes, and vp King Henry comes, When for his guidance he had got him roome. The dreadfull bellowing of whose strait-brac’d Drummes, 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 Bowmen beaten from their Steeds) With Battle-axes, Halberts, Bills, and Maules, Where, in the slaughter euery one exceedes, Where euery man, his fellow forward calls, And shows him where some great-born Frenchman bleeds 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 Bills and Halbers they imbrue In their sicke Bowels, beaten downe that lye, No man respects how, or what blood he drew, Nor can heare those that for their mercie cry. Ears are damm’d vp with howles and hellish sounds One fearefull noyse a fearefuller confounds.

When the couragious Constable of France, Th’vnlucky Vanguard valiantly that led, Sawe the day turn’d by this disastrous chance, And how the French before the English fled; O stay (quoth he) your Ensignes yet aduance, Once 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, And seeing thus the Constable dismayde: Shift noble Lord (quoth he) the day is lost, If the whole world vpon the match were layde, I cannot thinke but that Black Edwards Ghost Assists the English, and our Horse hath frayde; If not, some Diuels they haue with them then, That fight against vs in the shapes of men.

Not I my Lord, the Constable replies: By my blest soule, the Field I will not quit: Whilst two braue Battailes are to bring supplies: Neither of which one stroke haue strucken yet: Nay (quoth Dampeir) I doe not this aduise More 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 struck their Rowells to the bleeding sides Of their fierce Steeds into the ayre that sprong: And as their fury at that instant guides: They thrust themselues into the murth’ring throng, Where such bad fortune those braue Lords betides: The Admirall from off his Horse was flong, For the sterne English downe before them beere All that withstand, the Pesant 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 be condol’d, Like a braue Knight to yeeld his friend reliefe, Doing as much as possibly he could, Both horse and man is borne into the mayne, And from his friend not halfe a furlong slayne.

Now Willoughby vpon his well-Arm’d Horse, Into the midst of this Battalion brought, And valiant Fanhope no whit lesse in force, Himselfe hath thither through the squadrons raught, Whereas the English without all remorce, (Looking like men that deepely were distraught) Smoking with sweat, besmear’d with dust and blood, Cut into Cantels all that them withstood.

Yet whilst thus hotely they hold vp the Chase 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 a pace, 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, T’affront the Foe that instantly began: Faine would the Duke (if possible) restore, (Doing as much as could be done by man) Their Honour lost, by this their late Defeate, And caused onely, by their base Retreate.

Their men at Armes their Lances closely lock One in another, and come vp so round, That by the strength and horrour of the shock, They forc’d the English to forsake their ground, Shrinking no more then they had beene a Rock, Though by the Shafts receiuing many a wound, As they would showe, that they were none of those, That turn’d their backs so basely to their Foes.

Panting for breath, his Murrian in his hand, Woodhouse comes in as back the English beare, My Lords (quoth he) what now inforc’d to stand, When smiling Fortune off’reth vs so faire, The French lye yonder like to wreakes of sand, And you by this our glory but impaire: Or now, or neuer, your first Fight maintaine, Chatillyon and the Constable are slaine.

Hand ouer head pell mell vpon them ronne, If you will proue the Masters of the day, Ferrers and Greystock haue so brauely done, That I enuie their glory, and dare say, From all the English, they the Gole haue woone; Either let’s share, or they’ll beare all away. This spoke, his Ax about his head he flings, And hasts away, as though his heeles had winges.

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 bespake, Suffolke and Oxford as braue Earles you be, Once more beare vp with Willoughby and me.

Why now, me think’st I heare braue Fanhope speake, 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 giue, And to the Charge as fast as they could driue.

That slaughter seem’d to haue but stay’d for breath, To make the horrour to ensue the more: With hands besmear’d with blood, when meager Death Looketh more grisly then he did before: So that each body seem’d but as a sheath To 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 winde in Summer haps to blowe, At 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 flowe: And aboue all the Bills and Axes play, As doe the Attoms in the Sunny ray.

Now with mayne blowes their Armours are vnbras’d, And as the French before the English fled, With their browne Bills their recreant backs they baste, And from their shoulders their faint Armes doe 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 Dukes who found their force thus ouerthrowne, And those fewe left them ready still to route, Hauing great skill, and no lesse courage showne; Yet of their safeties much began to doubt, For hauing fewe 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 Lords, Who led the Vanguard with so good successe, Bespeaking them with honourable words, Themselues their prisoners freely and confesse, Who by the strength of their commanding swords, Could hardly saue them from the slaught’ring presse, By Suffolks ayde till they away were sent, Who with a Guard conuay’d them to his Tent.

When as their Souldiers to eschew the sack, Gainst their owne Battell bearing in their flight, By their owne French are strongly beaten back: Lest they their Ranks, should haue disord’red quight, So that those men at Armes goe all to wrack Twixt their owne friends, and those with whom they fight, Wherein disorder and destruction seem’d To striue, which should the powerfullest be deem’d.

And whilst the Daulphine of Auerney cryes, Stay men at Armes, let Fortune doe her worst, And let that Villaine from the field that flyes 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’d yee back vpon your desperate Foes, To saue our Honours, though our lyues 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 spectakles of feare, And finding yet the Daulphins spirit so strong, By that which he had chanst from him to heare, Vpon the shoulder claps him, Prince quoth he, Since I mast fall, ô let me fall with thee.

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

Now slaughter cease me, if I doe not greeue, 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 hazad their repreeue, And share our Fortunes, in they goe amaine, And with such danger through the presse they wade, As of their liues but small account they made.

Yet ere they through the clustred Crouds could get, Oft downe on those, trod there to death that lay, The valient Daulphin 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 mayne Battaile of the French came on, The Vanward vanquisht, quite the Field doth flye, And other helpes besides this, haue they none: But that their hopes doe on their mayne relye, And therefore now it standeth them vpon, To fight it brauely, or else yeeld, or dye: For the fierce English charge so home and sore, As in their hands Ioues thunderbolts they bore.

The Duke of Yorke, who since the fight begun, Still in the top of all his Troopes was seene, And things wellneere beyond beleefe had done, Which of his Fortune, made him ouerweene, Himselfe so farre into the maine doth runne, So that the French which quickly got betweene Him and his succours, that great Chiefetaine slue, Who brauely fought whilest 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 came, Perceiu’d the King of England to aduance, To Charge in person; It doth them inflame, Each one well hoping it might be his chance To sease vpon him, which was all their ayme, Then with the brauest of the English mett, Themselues that there before the King had sett.

When the Earle of Cornewal with vnusuall force, Encounters Grandpre (next that came to hand) In Strength his equall, blow for blow they scorce, Weelding their Axes as they had beene wands, Till the Earle tumbles Grandpre from his Horse Ouer whom straight the Count Salines stands, And lendeth Cornwal such a blow withall, Ouer the Crupper that he makes him fall.

Cornwal recouers, for his Armes were good, And to Salines maketh vp againe, Who changde such boysterous buffets, that the blood, Doth through the Ioints of their strong Armour straine, Till Count Salines sunck downe where he stood, Blamount who sees the Count Salines slaine, Straight copes with Cornwal beaten out of breath Till Kent comes in, and rescues him from death.

Kent vpon Blamount furiously doth flye, Who at the Earle with no lesse courage struck, And one the other with such knocks they plye, That eithers Axe in th’others Helmet stuck; Whilst they are wrastling, crossing thigh with thigh; Their Axes pykes, which soonest out should pluck: They, fall to ground like in their Casks to smother, With their clutcht Gauntlets cuffing one another.

Couragious Cluet grieued at the sight Of his friend Blamounts vnexpected fall, Makes in to lend him all the ayde he might; Whose comming seem’d the stout Lord Scales to call, 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 Moruyle chuseth as his man.

Their Curates are vnriuetted with blowes, With horrid wounds their breasts and faces slasht; 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 washt; They fall so fast, she scarse affords them roome, That one mans Trunke becomes anothers Toombe.

When Suffolk chargeth Huntingdon with sloth, 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 enlarge To this great Earle who dares him thus to charge.

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 be neare The King, whose person I attend vpon, And that I doubt not but to make appeare Now, if occasion shall but call me on, Looke round about my Lord, if you can see, Some braue aduenture worthy you and me.