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 will