Volume 5 — The most Famous BALLAD Of King Henry the 5th; his Victory over the French at Agencourt.
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A Councel grave our King did hold, With many a Lord and Knight: That he might truly understand, That France did hold his Right. Unto the King of France therefore, Embassadors he sent; That he might truly understand, His Mind and whole Intent. Desiring him in friendly sort, His lawful Right to yield; Or else he swore by dint of Sword, To win it in the Field. The King of France with all his Lords, Did hear this Message plain; And to our brave Embassador, Did answer with Disdain. And said our King was yet too young, And of but tender Age; Therefore they pass not for his Threats, Nor fear not his Courage. His Knowledge yet in Feats of Arms, As yet is very small; His tender Joints more fitter are, To toss a Tennis-ball. A Tun of Tennis-balls therefore, In Pride and great Disdain; He sent unto this Royal King, To recompence his Pain. Which Answer when our King did hear, He waxed wroth in Heart; And swore he would provide such Balls, Should make all France to smart. An Army then our King did hold, Which was both good and strong; And from Southampton is our King, With all his Navy gone. In France he landed safe and sound, Both he and all his Train; And to the Town of Husle then He marched up amain. Which when he had besieg’d the Town, Against the fenced Walls; To batter down the stately Towers, He sent his English Balls. When this was done our King did march, Then up and down the Land; And not a Frenchman for his Life, Durst once his Force withstand. Until he came to Agencourt, Whereas it was his chance; To find the King in readiness, With all the Power of France. A mighty Host he had prepar’d, Of Armed Soldiers then; Which were no less by just Account, Than Forty Thousand Men. Which sight did much amaze our King, For he and all his Host; Not passing Fifteen Thousand had, Accounted with the most. The King of France who well did know, The Number of our Men; In vaunting Pride and great Disdain, Did send an Herald then: To understand what he would give, For Ransom of his Life, When they in Field had taken him, Amongst the bloody strife. And when our King with cheerful Heart, This answer then did make; Before that it does come to pass, Some of your Hearts will ake. And to your proud presumptuous King, Declare this thing, quoth he; My own Heart’s-blood will pay the Price, Nought else he gets of me. Then spake the noble Duke of York, O noble King, quoth he, The Leading of this Battle brave, It doth belong to me. God-a-mercy Cousin York, he said, I grant thee thy Request; Then lead thou on couragiously, And I will lead the rest. Then came the bragging Frenchmen down, With cruel Force and Might; With whom our Noble King began, A fierce and dreadful Fight. The Archers they discharg’d their Shafts, As thick as Hail from Skie; And many a Frenchman in the Field, That happy Day did die. Their Horses tumbled on the Stakes, And so their Lives they lost; And many a Frenchman there was ta’en, As Prisoners to their cost. Ten Thousand Men that Day was slain, As Enemies in the Field: And eke as many Prisoners, Were forc’d that Day to yield. Thus had our King a happy Day, And Victory over France; And brought them quickly under foot That late in Pride did prance. God save our King, and bless this Land, And grant to him likewise; The upper-hand and Victory, Of all his Enemies.
