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 G.o.ds 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, a.s.sayle 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 b.u.t.tocks men like b.u.t.ts 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 mult.i.tudes 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 sca.r.s.e 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 h.e.l.lish 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 n.o.ble Lord (quoth he) the day is lost, If the whole world vpon the match were layde, I cannot thinke but that Black Edwards Ghost a.s.sists 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 sp.r.o.ng: 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 n.o.ble 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._]