Chapter III: Part 3

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.

[Stanza 175]

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.

[Stanza 176: _The King of Englands Oration to the English._]

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.

[Stanza 177]

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.

[Stanza 178]

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.

[Stanza 179]

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.

[Stanza 180: _The high valour of the King of England._]

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.

[Stanza 181: _Sir Thomas Erpingham gaue the Signall to the English._]

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.

[Stanza 182]

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.

[Stanza 183: _A Simily of the French charging the English._]

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.

[Stanza 184: _The three hundred Archers layd in ambush, disorder the French men at Armes at the first encounter._]

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.

[Stanza 185]

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.

[Stanza 186]

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.

[Stanza 187]

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.

[Stanza 188: _Two wings of French horse defeated._]

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.

[Stanza 189]

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.

[Stanza 190: _The English Vaward and maine Battaile charge the French both at once._]

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.

[Stanza 191]

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.

[Stanza 192]

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.

[Stanza 193]

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.

[Stanza 194: _Charles de la Breth Constable of France._]

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.

[Stanza 195: _The Admirall._]

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.

[Stanza 196]

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.

[Stanza 197: _The Admirall slaine._]

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.

[Stanza 198: _The Constable slaine._]

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.

[Stanza 199]

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.

[Stanza 200]

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.

[Stanza 201]

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.

[Stanza 202]

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.

[Stanza 203: _The courage of Woodhouse remarkable._]

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.

[Stanza 204]

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.

[Stanza 205]

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.

[Stanza 206]

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.

[Stanza 207]

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.

[Stanza 208: _A Simily of the apparance of the Battell._]

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.

[Stanza 209]

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.

[Stanza 210]

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.

[Stanza 211: _The Duke of Burbon and Orleance taken prisoners._]

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.

[Stanza 212]

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.

[Stanza 213: _Called of some Guiscard the Daulphine of Aragon._]

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.

[Stanza 214]

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, o let me fall with thee.

[Stanza 215]

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.

[Stanza 216]

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.

[Stanza 217: _The Daulphin of Auerney slaine._]

[_The Earle of Ewe taken prisoner._]

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.

[Stanza 218]

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.

[Stanza 219: _The Duke of Yorke slaine._]

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.

[Stanza 220: _The King heareth of the Duke of Yorks death._]

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.

[Stanza 221: _The Kings resolution._]

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.

[Stanza 222: _The bloody scuffle betweene the French and English, at the Ioyning of the two mayne Battailes, in fiue Stanzas._]

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.

[Stanza 223]

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.

[Stanza 224]

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.

[Stanza 225: _Called Cluet of Brabant._]

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.

[Stanza 226]

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.

[Stanza 227: _The Earle of Suffolke chargeth the Earle of Huntingdon With breach of promise._]

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.

[Stanza 228]

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.

[Stanza 229: _A desperate attempt by the Earle of Huntingdon._]

See yan proud Banner, of the Duke of Barres,
Me thinkst it wafts vs, and I heare it say,
Wher's that couragious Englishman that darres,
Aduenture, but to carry me away,
This were a thing, now worthy of our warres;
I'st true, quoth Suffolke, by this blessed day,
On, and weele haue it, sayst thou so indeed,
Quoth Huntingdon, then Fortune be our speed.

[Stanza 230]

And through the Ranckes then rushing in their pride,
They make a Lane; about them so they lay,
Foote goes with foote, and side is ioynde to side,
They strike downe all that stand within their way,
And to direct them, haue no other guide,
But 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.

[Stanza 231: _One braue exploit begetteth another._]

By their examples, each braue English blood,
Vpon the Frenchmen for their Ensignes runne,
Thick there as trees within a well-growne wood;
Where great Atchiements instantly were done,
Against them toughly whilst that Nation stood,
But o what man his destinie can shunne
That Noble Suffolke there is ouerthrowne,
When he much valour sundry wayes hath showne.

[Stanza 232: _The Earle of Suffolke slaine._]

Which the proud English further doth prouoke,
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 weake with wounds, their weapons from them threw,
With which the English fearefully them slue.

[Stanza 233: _The English kill the French with their owne weapons._]

Alanzon backe vpon the Reareward borne,
By those vnarm'd that from the English fled,
All further hopes then vtterly forlorne,
His Noble heart in his full Bosome bled;
What Fate, quoth he, our ouerthrowe hath sworne,
Must France a Prisoner be to England led,
Well, if she be so, yet Ile let her see,
She beares my Carkasse with her, and not me.

[Stanza 234]

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 bring,
Scarse two Pykes length that came before the King.

[Stanza 235: _The Duke of Glocester ouerthrowne by the Duke of Alanzon._]

Their Staues both strongly riuetted with steele,
At the first stroke each other they astound,
That as they staggering from each other reele;
The Duke of Gloster falleth to the ground:
When as Alanzon round about doth wheele,
Thinking to lend him his last deadly wound:
In comes the King his Brothers life to saue
And to this braue Duke, a fresh on-set gaue.

[Stanza 236]

When as themselues like Thunderbolts they shot,
One at the other, and the Lightning brake
Out of their Helmets, and againe was not,
E'r of their strokes, the eare a sound could take
Betwixt them two, the Conflict grew so hot,
Which those about them so amaz'd doth make,
That they stood still as wondring at the sight,
And quite forgot that they themselues must fight.

[Stanza 237: _The King of England in danger to be slaine, by the Duke of Alanzon._]

Vpon the King Alanzon prest so sore,
That with a stroke (as he was wondrous strong)
He cleft the Crowne that on his Helme he wore,
And tore his Plume that to his heeles it hong:
Then with a second brus'd his Helme before,
That it his forehead pittifully wroong:
As some that sawe it certainly had thought,
The King therewith had to the ground beene brought.

[Stanza 238: _Alanzon beaten downe by the King of England._]

But Henry soone Alanzons Ire to quit,
(As now his valour lay vpon the Rack)
Vpon the face the Duke so strongly hit,
As in his Saddle layde him on his back,
And once perceiuing that he had him split,
Follow'd his blowes, redoubling thwack on thwack:
Till he had lost his Stirups, and his head
Hung where his Horse was like thereon to tread.

[Stanza 239: _The King killeth two Gentlemen that aduenture to rescue the Duke._]

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.

[Stanza 240]

The King thus made the Master of the Fight:
The Duke calls to him as he there doth lye:
Henry I'le pay my Ransome, 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 showt and crie,
Quite drown'd his voyce, his Helmet being shut,
And, that braue Duke into small peeces cut.

[Stanza 241: _The Duke of Alanzon slaine._]

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

[Stanza 242: _The Duke Neuers taken prisoner._]

The Duke Neuers, now in this sad retreat,
By Dauid Gam and Morisby persude,
(Who throughly chaf'd, neere melted into sweat,
And with French blood their Poleaxes imbrud)
They sease vpon him following the defeate,
Amongst the faint, and fearefull multitude;
When a contention fell betweene them twaine,
To whom the Duke should rightfully pertaine.

[Stanza 243: _Morisby and Gam at contention for the Duke of Neuers._]

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

[Stanza 244: _Morisby a braue young Knight._]

[_Dauid Gam oft mentioned in this Poem._]

With that couragious Morrisby grew hot,
Were not said he his Ransome worth a pin,
Now by these Armes I weare thou gett'st him not:
Or if thou do'st, thou shalt him hardly win;
Gam whose Welch blood could hardly brooke this blot,
To bend his Axe vpon him doth begin:
He his at him, till the Lord Beamount came
Their rash attempt, and wisely thus doth blame.

[Stanza 245]

Are not the French twice trebl'd to our power,
And fighting still, nay, doubtfull yet the day:
Thinke you not these vs fast enough deuoure:
But that your braues the Army must dismay:
If ought but good befell vs in this howre:
This be you sure your lyues for it must pay:
Then first the end of this dayes Battaile see,
And then decide whose prisoner he shall be.

[Stanza 246: _The Duke of Excester cometh in with the Reare._]

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.

[Stanza 247]

The Earle of Vandom certainly that thought,
The English fury somewhat had beene stayde:
Weary with slaughter as men ouer-wrought,
Nor had beene spurr'd on by a second ayde:
For his owne safety, then more fiercely fought,
Hoping the tempest somewhat had been layde:
And he thereby (though suff'ring the defeate,)
Might keep his Reareward whole in his Retreate.

[Stanza 248]

On whom the Duke of Excester then fell,
Reare with the Reare now for their Valours vy,
Ours finde the French their lyues will dearely sell;
And th'English meane as dearely them to buy:
The English follow, should they runne through hell,
And through the same the French must, if they flye,
When too't they goe, deciding it with blowes,
With th'one side now, then with th'other't goes.

[Stanza 249]

But the sterne English with such luck and might,
(As though the Fates had sworne to take their parts)
Vpon the French preuailing in the Fight,
With doubled hands, and with re-doubled harts,
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.

[Stanza 250: _The Earle of Vandome slaine._]

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 Bills the English doe so easely 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.

[Stanza 251]

When now the Marshall Boucequalt, which long
Had through the Battaile waded eu'ry way,
Oft hazarded the murther'd Troupes among,
Encouraging them to abide the day:
Finding the Army that 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.

[Stanza 252: _Sir Thomas Erpingham getteth in with his three hundred Archers._]

Till olde Sir Thomas Erpingham at last,
With those three hundred Archers commeth in,
Which layd in ambush not three houres yet past;
Had the Defeat of the French Army bin,
With these that noble Souldier maketh hast,
Lest other from him should the honour win:
Who as before now stretch their well-wax'd strings,
At the French Horse then comming in the wings.

[Stanza 253]

The soyle with slaughter eu'ry where they load,
Whilst the French stoutly to the English stood,
The drops from eithers emptied veynes that flow'd,
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 horrour to be look'd for there,
And the stout Marshall vainely doth but feare.

[Stanza 254: _The Marshall of France slaine._]

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

[Stanza 255]

The Marshalls death so much doth them affright,
That downe their weapons instantly they lay,
And better yet 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, that greatest haste could make.

[Stanza 256: _Count Vadamount._]

[_The Duke of Brabant a most couragious Prince._]

When Vadamount now in the Conflict mett,
With valient Brabant, whose high valour showne
That day, did many a blunted Courage whett,
Else long before that from the Field had flowne,
Quoth Vadamount, see how we are besett,
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.

[Stanza 257: _A bitter exclamation of the Duke of Brabant against the French._]

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 disparadg'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 flye,
Branded with shame, so basely may they dye.

[Stanza 258]

Ignoble French, your fainting Cowardize craues
The dreadfull curse of your owne Mother earth,
Hardning her breast, not to allow you graues,
Be 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 Drumme, or Trumpet when they hap to heare.

[Stanza 259: _Anthony Duke of Brabant, sonne to the Duke of Burgundy._]

From Burgundy brought I the force I had,
To fight for them, that ten from one doe flye;
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 crye:
If scarse one found, then let me be that one,
The English Army that oppos'd alone.

[Stanza 260: _The valiant Duke of Brabant slaine._]

This said, he puts his Horse vpon his speed,
And in, like lightning on the English flewe:
Where many a Mothers sonne he made to bleed,
Whilst him with much astonishment they viewe:
Where hauing acted many a Knight-like deed,
Him and his Horse they all to peeces hewe:
Yet he that day more lasting glory wan,
Except Alanzon then did any man.

[Stanza 261: _Many of the French in their flight get into an old Fort._]

When as report to great King Henry came,
Of a vast Route which from the Battaile fled,
(Amongst the French most men of speciall name)
By the stout English fiercely followed;
Had for their safety, (much though to their shame)
Got in their flight into so strong a sted,
So fortifi'd by nature (as 'twas thought)
They might not thence, but with much blood be brought.

[Stanza 262: _The Kings slight answer._]

An aged Rampire, with huge Ruines heapt,
Which seru'd for Shot, gainst those that should assayle,
Whose narrow entrance they with Crosbowes kept,
Whose sharpned quarres came in show'rs like hayle:
Quoth the braue King, first let the field be swept,
And with the rest we well enough shall deale;
Which though some heard, and so shut vp their eare,
Yet relish'd not with many Souldiers there.

[Stanza 263]

Some that themselues by Ransomes would enrich,
(To make their pray of Pesants yet dispise)
Felt as they thought their bloody palmes to itch,
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.

[Stanza 264: _Woodhouse ieereth at the attempt._]

Which Woodhouse hearing meerily thus spake,
(One that right well knew, both his worth and wit)
A dangerous thing it is to vndertake
A Fort, where Souldiers be defending it,
Perhaps they sleepe, and if they should awake,
With stones, 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.

[Stanza 265: _Braues passe between Gam and Woodhouse._]

Which Gam o'r 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 Cannon leape into a Towne;
I tell thee, a resolued man may doe
Things, that thy thoughts, yet neuer mounted to.

[Stanza 266]

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

[Stanza 267]

Agreed quoth Gam, and vp their Troopes they call,
Hand ouer head, and on the French they ran,
And to the fight couragiously they fall,
When on both sides the slaughter soone began;
Fortune awhile indifferent is to all,
These what they may, and those doe what they can.
Woodhouse and Gam, vpon each other vye,
By Armes their manhood desperatly to try.

[Stanza 268: _Captaine Gam slaine._]

[_For this seruice done by Woodhouse, there was an addition of honour giuen him: which was a hand holding a Club: with the word _Frappe Fort_, which is born by the Family of the Woodhouse of Norfolke, to this day._]

To clime the Fort the Light-Arm'd English striue,
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 downe with their hands would riue:
Thus either side their vtmost power extend,
Till valiant Gam sore wounded, drawne aside
By his owne Souldiers, shortly after dy'de.

[Stanza 269]

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

[Stanza 270]

Lewis of Burbon in the furious heat
Of this great Battaile, hauing made some stay,
Who with the left wing suffered a defeate,
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.

[Stanza 271]

Hath gathered vp some scattred Troopes 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 add 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 greatest fame that euer Souldiers gott.

[Stanza 272: _A deuise of Burbons to giue encouragement to the French._]

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 awhile,
It certaine was the English all should dye,
For that the King had offered them to yeeld,
Finding his troopes to leaue him on the Field.

[Stanza 273]

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 winn,
(Which at that instant easily he might)
Comes close vp with him, and puts on as fast,
Brauely resolu'd to fight it to the last.

[Stanza 274]

And both encourag'd by the newes was braught
Of the ariuing of the Daulphins power;
Whose speedy Van, their Reare had almost raught,
(From Agincourt discouer'd 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 Host,
Whilst they yet stood their victory to boast.

[Stanza 275: _A simily of the French._]

And one they come, as doth a rowling tide,
Forc'd by a winde, that shoues it forth so fast,
Till it choke vp some chanell side to side,
And the craz'd banks doth downe before it cast,
Hoping the English would them not abide,
Or would be so amazed at their hast,
That should they faile to route them at their will,
Yet of their blood, the fields should drinke their fill.

[Stanza 276]

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 Stoue their stifned sinewes warmes,
To act as brauely as they did before;
And the proud French as stoutly to oppose,
Scorning to yeeld one foot despight of blowes.

[Stanza 277]

The fight is fearefull, for stout Burbon brings
His fresher forces on with such a shocke,
That they were like to cut the Archers strings
E're they their Arrowes hansomly could nock
The French like Engines that were made with springs:
Themselues so fast into the English lock,
That th'one was like the other downe to beare,
In wanting roomth to strike, they stoode so neare.

[Stanza 278]

Still staggering long they from each other reel'd,
Glad that themselues they so could disingage:
And falling back vpon the spacious field
(For this last Sceane, that is the bloody Stage)
Where they their Weapons liberally could weeld,
They with such madnesse execute their rage;
As though the former fury of the day,
To this encounter had but beene a play.

[Stanza 279]

Slaughter is now desected to the full,
Here from their backs their batter'd Armours fall,
Here a sleft shoulder, there a clouen scull,
There hang his eyes out beaten with a mall,
Vntill the edges of their Bills growe dull,
Vpon each other they so spend their gall,
Wilde showtes and clamors all the ayre doe fill,
The French cry _tue_, and the English kill.

[Stanza 280]

The Duke of Barre in this vaste spoyle by chance;
With the Lord Saint-Iohn on the Field doth meete,
Towards whom that braue Duke doth himselfe aduance,
Who with the like encounter him doth greete:
This English Barron, and this Peere of France,
Grapling together, falling from their feete,
With the rude crowdes had both to death beene crusht,
In for their safety, had their friends not rusht.

[Stanza 281]

Both againe rais'd, and both their Souldiers shift,
To saue their lyues if any way they could:
But as the French the Duke away would lift,
Vpon his Armes the English taking hould,
(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.

[Stanza 282: _Lewes of Burbon taken prisoner by a meane Souldier._]

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

[Stanza 283]

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

[Stanza 284: _Lewes of Burbon stabd by the Souldier that took him prisoner._]

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 findes his hopes in vaine,
So rich a Booty forced to forsake,
To 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.

[Stanza 285]

When Rosse and Morley making in amaine,
Bring the Lord Darcy vp with them along,
Whose Horse had lately vnder him beene slaine;
And they on foote found fighting in the throng,
Those Lords his friends remounting him againe,
Being a man that valiant was and strong:
They altogether with a generall hand,
Charge on the French that they could finde to stand.

[Stanza 286]

And yet but vainely as the French suppos'd,
For th'Earle of Richmount forth such earth had found,
That one two sides with quick-set was enclos'd,
And the way to it by a rising ground,
By which a while the English were oppos'd,
At euery Charge which else came vp so round,
As that except the passage put them by,
The French as well might leaue their Armes and flye.

[Stanza 287]

Vpon both parts it furiously is fought,
And with such quicknesse riseth to that hight,
That horror neede no further to be sought:
If onely that might satisfie the sight,
Who would haue fame full dearely here it bought,
For it was sold by measure and by waight,
And at one rate the price still certaine stood,
An ounce of honour cost a pound of blood.

[Stanza 288: _The Lords Dampier and Sauesses taken prisoners._]

When so it hapt that Dampier in the Van,
Meetes with stout Darcy, but whilst him he prest,
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.

[Stanza 289]

When soone fiue hundred Englishmen at Armes,
That to the French had giuen many a chase;
And when they couered all the Field with swarmes;
Yet oft that day had brauely bid them base:
Now at the last by raising fresh Alarmes;
And comming vp with an vnusuall pace,
Made them to knowe, that they must runne or yeeld,
Neuer till now the English had the Field.

[Stanza 290: _Arthur Earl of Richmount taken prisoner._]

[_The Count du Marle slaine._]

Where Arthur Earle of Richmount beaten downe,
Is left (suppos'd of eu'ry 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,
Who fights, the colde blade in his bosome feeles,
Who flyes, still heares it whisking at his heeles.

[Stanza 291]

Till all disrank'd, like seely 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.

[Stanza 292]

Some they take prisoners, other some they kill,
As they affect those vpon whom they fall:
For they as Victors may doe what they will:
For who this Conqueror to account dare call,
In 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.

[Stanza 293: _The misery of the French._]

A shoolesse 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 shuffled on the ground;
Another three or foure before him beete,
Like harmefull Chattell driuen to a pound;
They must abide it, so the Victor will,
Who at his pleasure may, or saue, or kill.

[Stanza 294]

That braue French Gallant, when the fight began,
Who 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.

[Stanza 295: _The French forced to beare the wounded English on their backs._]

And those few English wounded in the fight,
They force the French to bring with them away,
Who when they were depressed with the weight,
Yet dar'd not once their burthen downe to lay,
Those in the morne, whose hopes were at their height,
Are fallne thus lowe ere the departing day;
With pickes of Halberts prickt in steed of goads,
Like tyred Horses labouring with their Loads.

[Stanza 296]

But as the English from the Field returne,
Some of those French who when the Fight began,
Forsooke their friends, and hoping yet to earne,
Pardon, for that so cowardly they ran,
Assay the English Carridges to burne,
Which to defend them scarsely had a man;
For that their keepers to the field were got,
To picke such spoyles, as chance should them alott.

[Stanza 297: _A crew of rascall French rifle the King of Englands Tents._]

The Captaines of this Rascall cowardly Route,
Were Isambert of Agincourt at hand,
Riflant of Clunasse a Dorpe there about,
And for the Chiefe in this their base command,
Was Robinett of Burnivile; throughout
The Countrie knowne, all order to withstand,
These with fiue hundred Peasants they had rais'd
The English Tents, vpon an instant seas'd.

[Stanza 298]

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 rifled euery Booth and Tent,
Some of the sillyest they of life bereft,
The feare of which, some of the other sent,
Into the Army, with their suddaine cries,
Which put the King in feare of fresh supplies.

[Stanza 299: _The French prisoners more in number then the English Souldiers._]

For that his Souldiers tyred in the fight,
Their Prisoners more in number then they were,
He thought it for a thing of too much weight,
T'oppose freshe forces, and to guard them there.
The Daulphins Powers, yet standing in their sight,
And Burbons Forces of the field not cleere.
These yearning cryes, that from the Caridge came,
His bloud yet hott, more highly doth inflame

[Stanza 300]

And in his rage he instantly commands,
That euery English should his prisoner kill,
Except some fewe in some great Captaines hands
Whose Ransomes might his emptyed Cofers fill,
Alls one whose loose, or who is nowe in bonds,
Both must one way, it is the Conquerers will.
Those who late thought, small Ransoms them might free
Saw onely death their Ransomes now must be.

[Stanza 301: _The English kill their prisoners._]

[_Expostulation._]

Accursed French, and could it not suffize,
That ye but now bath'd in your natiue gore;
But yee must thus infortunately rise,
To drawe more plagues vpon yee then before,
And gainst your selfe more mischeife to diuise,
Then th'English could haue, and set wide the dore.
To vtter ruine, and to make an end
Of that your selues, which others would not spend.

[Stanza 302]