know Whither the French could winne by sword or no. With that the signal 's given In full carriere They charge that little English band who there With well collected spirits stand t' abide Their fiercest onset and on every side Returne sharpe death and furious force for force Their mortall arrowes gall th' approaching horse Nor is the chevalry of France o'rethrowne By th' English archers onely but their owne Rash fury helpes to draw their ruine on And on themselves does execution In vines shrubs bushes that environ'd round Prince Edward's armies well-elected ground Th' entangled horse with miserable fate Their riders and themselves praecipitate And to their foes become an easie spoyle As beasts of greatest courage in a toyle Ensnar'd almost without resistance dye While ' gainst the rest that stand the archers ply Their fatall taske the wounded horses fall Foule on their fellowes every where through all The troope reignes nothing but confusion Those chevalliers that came so bravely on And seem'd themselves enow the day to gaine In this disorder tumbled downe are flame Nor can so few of English hands suffice To execute their routed enemies Now wondrous sad the spectacle was growne In all her foulest shapes was horror showne The mangled limbs of riders that of late Were proudly mounted by praeposterous fate Beneath the horses bloodyed hoofes are trod With heapes confus'd the mourning fields are strow'd The dikes are fill'd with slaughter while the blood Of men and horses make one purple flood As if in nature they had beene the same And from the wounds of slaughter'd Centaures came Now to the French infantery at last Which farre behind the horse King Iohn had plac'd And vainly thought that in the action He should not need their hands the horse alone Would gaine the day the furious warre was brought But they alas amaz'd before they fought To see the horsemens wondrous overthrow And now assaulted by the conquering foe Gave ground apace The first hot charge that brave And valiant Lord renowned Audley gave Who to performe a noble vow in deeds Almost the prowesse of a man exceeds And like the stroke of Jove's resistlesse thunder Shoots forth and breaks the strongest ranks in sunder Here in the thickest throng of enemies Like Thracian Mars himselfe blacke Edward plyes Deaths fatall taske here noble Warwicke gives A furious onset there brave Suffolke strives T'outgoe the formost aemulations fire Is kindled now and blazes high desire Of honour drownes all other passions there Not in the Chiefes alone each souldier In that small army feeles bright honours flame And labours to maintaine his proper fame Ne're was a battell through all parts so fought Nor such high wonders by an handfull wrought White Victory that scar'd above beheld How every English hand throughout the field Was stain'd with blood amaz'd to see the day And that so few should carry her away The fields no more their verdure can retaine Enforced now to take a purple staine And be obscur'd with slaughter while the wounds Of France manure her owne unhappy grounds Where mixed with Plebeian funerals Her greatest Princes dye There Burbon falls And Marshall Clermont welters in his gore There noble Charney's beaten downe that bore The standard royall that sad day here dyes Athens great Duke there valiant Eustace lyes Who as a badge of highest honour wore A Chaplet of bright pearles that had before When by King Edward in a skirmish neere To Calleis he was taken prisoner As testimony of his prowesse show'd Beene by that royall enemy bestow'd But ' mongst so many noble funerals Of France one starre of English prowesse fals From his bright sphaere with sorrow to allay The high successe of that victorious day Renowned Audley that so long had fought In front of all the English power and wrought High feats at Armes by many wounds bereft Of spirits sinks downe at last but is not left To th' Enemy foure valiant Squires engage Themselves for him against the fiercest rage Of foes and beare their wounded Lord away Whom gently downe in freshest ayre they lay Past hope of life alas but gentle Death So long gave respite to his latest breath Till he his Countries full renowne might see And Edward grac'd with perfect victory Great are the French Battalia's and in roome Of those that fall so oft fresh souldiers come So oft the bloody fight 's renew'd that now The English weary with subduing grow And ' ginne to faint opprest with odds so great When lo to make the victory compleat Six hundred bowmen whom to that entent Before the battell the brave Prince had sent Abroad well mounted now come wheeling o're The field and charge the French behind so sore As with confusion did distract them quite And now an execution not a fight Ensues all rowted that great army flyes A prey to their pursuing enemies With his disheartned battels Orleance Forsakes the field with him the heire of France Young Charles of Normandy and thousands moe Not overthrowne but frighted by the foe Nor are the English though enow to gaine The day enow in number to maintaine So great a chase and not so well suffice To follow as subdue their enemies Nor yet which more declar'd the conquest sent From heaven alone to strike astonishment In overweening mortals and to show Without that ayd how little Man can doe Are all the English conquerors in field Enow to take so many French as yeeld Nor to receive the Prisoners that come Though some in field are ransom'd and sent home Yet moe from thence are captive borne away Than are the hands that wonne so great a day Yet did the King almost forsaken quite By all his men maintaine a noble fight As if ashamed to out-live the sad Discomfiture which his owne rashnesse made Nor did his faultring hands even then forget To play a souldiers part appearing yet Worthy the feare of his assaling foe While death attended every furious blow Too late that prowesse comes and he in vaine By personall valour hopes to cure againe That malady which ill conduct begate No souldiers valiant deed can expiate A Generall 's folly nor one private hand Redeeme the errours of a King's command Thither to crowne their actions high successe Th' ambitious valours of the English presse With greedy hope to seize the royall prey The greatest prize of that victorious day But too too great it seem'd for one alone By many hands the King is seiz'd upon Nor had it cost lesse than a civill warre To judge whose right so great a prisoner Should prove in field and that rich claime decide On English swords had many English dy'd And in that storme the captive King of France Himselfe had perish'd had not timely chance Presented rescue noble Warwicke came And from that rabble in Prince Edward's name Demanded him whose presence seem'd to bring Not thraldome then but safety to the King There was Prince Philip tane his youngest sonne Who when his brothers
Nor now can silver-winged Peace againe As earst at Tourney and Malstroict shee did Th' enraged troops without death's stroke divide But fierce Enyo chas'd from thence away Without controllment claimes this fatall day Darke grew the troubled ayre as if it strove Within the souldiers furious breasts to move A sad presage of what would then ensue Nor longer could the golden Phoebus shew His cheerefull face The lightnings flashy light And loudest claps of thunder ' gan affright The darkned welkin which in teares apace Dissolv'd to fall upon the tragicke place Another darknesse more portentous rose Ore both th' amazed camps Whole sholes of Crowes And croaking Ravens that obscure the skye From all the neighbouring fields to b Crescy flye As thicke as Cranes in winter that forsake To drinke warme Nile the frozen Strymons lake And muster there themselves in hope to prey Vpon the slaughter of so great a day From these ostents are deepe impressions wrought The souldiers fancies as each breast is fraught With passions various variously surmise Presaging murmurs through all parts arise In some the thirst of fight encreast in some Appear'd the palenesse of a death to come Yet none so much on their owne danger thought As they divin'd after this field was fought About their Kings and Nations changed fate Nor had they time to feare their private state 'Twixt both the Marshals one on either side Through every battell did great Edward ride Whose royall presence with fresh vigour fill'd The souldiers cheerefull bosomes and exil'd Even from the coldest hearts all thoughts of feare No long perswasive Oratory there Did that short time afford or Edward need Few exhortations serv'd that did proceed From such a Prince He briefly bids them crowne That day their Nations honour and their owne And sets before the common souldiers eyes How great how glorious was their valours prize How many Princes wealthy spoyles would be The recompence of that dayes victory But when approaching Philip had beheld His English foes embattell'd in the field And that the warre admitted no delay He vainely joy'd to see the wish'd for day That might redeeme the honour France had lost And straight drew on his rich and numerous hoast In which so many severall Nations fought By their owne Soveraignes there in person brought And now those forraigne Princes every where With fitting language briefly 'gan to cheere Their armed Subjects that in this dayes fight As well their Countries honour as the right Of Philip lay that all great France would fame And thanke their conquering hands how great a shame It were for them to shrinke in such a warre To which for honour they had come so farre And left their dearest pledges whom if they Againe would see it in their valours lay But most does Philip his French troops excite As most of all engaged in the fight By natures lawes and all the love they beare To their deare native soyle whose freedome there Or shamefull conquest into question came That 't was a staine already to the name Of France a petty King that claime durst make Or their great kingdomes conquest undertake Which they must wipe off by their valours now And for his pride chastise th' ambitious soe That easie 't was to doe since Edward's power So few in number not one hand ' gainst foure Of fighting men was able there to show And to revenge their fellow souldiers now Who neere to Sluce on Neptune's watery Maine Had beene before by English Edward slaine With such like speeches all their hearts are fir'd And now a signall every where desir'd Which given on both sides a lowd shout arose And Death began to deale his fatall blowes Farre off at first his winged message flyes While the strong-armed English Archer plyes His bloody taske while Genoan Crossebowes backe Returne their fury and the ayre growes blacke With shafts as erst with winged fowle it did The English Vangard which Prince Edward led 〈◊〉 in the figure of an herse came on ' Gainst which the furious Charles of Alanson Kâ—â—g Philip's brother with Bohemia's King The strength of all the Chevalry did bring But â—re the horse came on in full carriere The Genoan Crossebowes that stood formost were To powre their stormes of fury on the foe But there began the fatall overthrow Of that huge Army For the late great fall Ofraine although it did no hurt at all To the English bow-strings spoyl'd the Genoans quite And made their Crossebowes uselesse in the fight Who weary'd with their mornings march so farre And griev'd with dis-respect had tane no care How to preserve their strings Which seeing on On Chevaliers cryes hot Count Alanson And o're yon lazy Genoans bellies make Your way to victory let souldiers take The Van from uselesse beasts With that they ride Vpon them furiously by their owne side The wretched Genoans are trod downe and slaine But nothing by that act the horsemen gaine For o're their bodies some are tumbled downe The rest that stand in that confusion Are gall'd with arrowes that uncessant flye From th' English fresh and gallant Archery Which did almost the whole Battalia rout The whiles the dying Genoans round about Might see before their latest gaspe of breath Their owne revenge wrought in the Horsemens death And for the wrong which their owne side did doe And quickly righted by the valiant foe But loth farre off t' endure the Archers force Count Alanson with his approaching horse Within Prince Edward's battell strives to bring The fight and thither th' old Bohemian King With his brave troope does even-ranked ride Whose reines are all fast to each other ty'd As if they meant to mow the enemy By squadrons downe So chained Bullets flye And sweepe a field as those Bohemian horse Close-link'd together came And now their force Within the Archers formost ranke had got There the encounter growes more closely hot There battell-axes swords and lances stand There foot to foot and furious hand to hand The men at Armes maintaine a constant warre And now Prince Edward's battell too too farre Began to be opprest to succour whom The second battell of the English come In which with other Lords Northampton stood And all too little in this scene of blood That succour seemes to be Vp to the hill On which King Edward with his battell still Vntouch'd kept stand the Lords have sent to crave Ayd for the Prince in this sad storme but have This answer past their expectation made While hee 's alive send not to me for ayd T is he must weare this honour nor will I Be Edward's rivall in the victory Or feare so much his danger to step in And seize those Bayes which he alone will winne From this Heroike answer of a King In every bosome did fresh vigour spring That answer might have wrought despairing feare But that young Edward and the Nobles there The worth and wisdome of the King did know And he their spirits whom he sent it
praise Then Marius triumphs or great Pompey's Bayes My ransom'd King home to his Kingdome send And these so bloody jarres and bootlesse end Strive not ' gainst Fate With that she vanished While Edward wak'd lay musing on his bed A messenger arrived at the tent That from his sister Scotland's Queene was sent Who su'd for her beloved Lord's release Great Edward gan relent and termes of peace Resolv'd t' embrace fates onely did ordaine That David there a prisoner should remaine Till he in woes a partner find and see A greater King in that captivity That weighing well the losse of potent France He may the more excuse warres fatall chance Past Touraine now the Prince of Wales was come And through Poictou to Burdeaux marching home After so many great atchievements done So many Townes and stately Cities wonne His men enrich'd the French endammag'd more Then all th'incursions that had beene before Could make them feele when th' open hand of warre Though uncontroll'd it let him passe so farre Beside Poictiers presents it selfe to stay This youthfull Lion and redeeme the prey Or else kind Fortune thought the prey to be Too meane for her blacke Edward's dignity Nor had the forts the Cities he had wonne As strong Narbon and stately Carcason With all the pillage gain'd in her esteme Or fame or danger great enough for him Vnlesse this wondrous battell had beene fought From which a captive Monarch should be brought With fame as great to him as e're before One field could give to any Conquerour Few were Prince Edward's troops King Iohn of France Arm'd with his kingdomes choycest puissance And all the flower of French Nobility With a resolve unfortunate though high Pursu'd the Prince to make him that sad day A deare account for all his voyage pay His passages they cut off every way In hope to seize what they esteem'd their prey But prov'd too strong for their weake armes to hold So when Getulian hunters too too bold A furious Lion round about beset And will not let him scape they vainly whet The beast's high courage whose collected ire To them as deadly as enclosed fire Breakes forth at last his danger anger moves And fatall onely to the hunters proves Not farre from Poictiers towne brave Edward was And there encamp'd nor further could he passe Nor longer shun the battels fatall stroke Him there King Iohn's huge army overtooke His wisely seated campe on every side Was both by paines and Nature fortifi'd Thicke Vines and bushes round had fenc'd the place Hard for the French Cavallery to passe With poore eight thousand there entrench'd he lyes Against six times as many enemies And disadvantag'd so a courage shew'd As great as was the fortune that ensu'd Men knew not which to wonder at that he With such a strength durst hope for victory Or that he gain'd it that he stood the blow Or that he gave so great an overthrow The Cardinall of Perigortin vaine Had strived long by treaties to detaine King Iohn's resolved fury from the fight As much bewailing Edward's wofull plight In vaine had Edward offred to restore All townes and forts that he had gain'd before And satisfie for all the dammage done But Fate to worke his fall had blinded Iohn No other termes will be accepted now But that Prince Edward with a hundred moe His chiefest Knights and noblest in the field Should to his hands themselves as prisoners yeeld These base conditions Edward scornes to take And to the King returnes defiance backe His valiant troops agree resolv'd to dye Or spite of a odds to gaine a victory Whom thus their most undaunted Prince bespake Brave Countreymen if I have skill to take Presage of future fortune when I see Your lookes your not despairing industry Which all the time that our vaine treaties were About your campe could worke with such a cheare Me thinkes I swell with hopes nor could be sad If twice as many that proud army had But that I know their numbers fright not you I could brave souldiers by example show How uselesse thronging numbers prove in warre Then why should Iohn presume on that so farre To make such proud conditions as that we For feare of him should choose captivity And yeeld our selves as prisoners to the foe Before the chance of warre have made us so By which our honour we had quite forgone Honour our Countries Iewell not our owne By her entrusted to us which when I Forget to keepe let me unvalu'd dye How great a price is on this battell set If we subdue no army ever yet In all the books of fame was honour'd more A richer Bayes no Nation ever wore But if we dye those conquering souldiers Whom bleeding France has often selt and feares Survive in England our revenge to take But God that gives all victories can make Our owne swords do 't There is no souldier here But does already some French trophee weare Here fight those armes who from the Norman warres From Brittaines conquest brought victorious scarres Those noble names whom Crescy field renown'd And Sluce before with Navall Garlands crown'd Then by such armed friends environ'd why Should I at all despaire of victory The Prince had done th' undanted souldiers show By cheerefull signes they dare abide the foe Too confident of victory King John In three large battels drawes his army on On fire to charge nor could his heat forbeare When he that led the first Battalia there His brother Orleance with sage advice Thus spake oh Sir forbeare your enemies A while deferre the dayes uncertaine chance And let this conquest cost no blood of France We need not fight at all the famish'd foe Our strengths environ round he cannot goe To forrage now nor fetch provision in To feele that want already they begin It will become their wish on swords to dye And mix their ruine with our tragaedy But why should we against a Christian hoast Refuse that conquest that no blood will cost And rather hasten in their tragicke fall To beare a part without a wound at all The captive Prince shall be at your command Then why should you with danger thrust your hand To quench that flame that would it selfe expire And battell more than victory desire Sound was the Dukes advice brave Edward's day In midd'st of Fates had vanished away Nor so had headlesse France beene over-runne Had that beene follow'd but unhappy Iohn Whom Fate had blinded thus in wrath replyes Does that poore handfull of the enemies Affright your courage brother can you weigh ' Gainst such a prize the danger to what day Should France her fortune ever trust if here She should misdoubt her swords and feeding feare By such flye courses seeke to steale renowne Not take it boldly as our Nation Have ever us'd if famine not the sword Should here to us a victory afford The boasting English who so oft of late ' Gainst us have prov'd in battell fortunate Even in our kingdomes bosome would not