The Battaile of Agincourt Part 14

[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 s.p.a.cious field (For this last Sceane, that is the b.l.o.o.d.y 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 pa.s.sage 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 p.r.i.c.kt 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, a.s.say the English Carridges to burne, Which to defend them sca.r.s.ely 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 Cluna.s.se 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._]