Collected Works of Michael Drayton
Page 142
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 be
en layde:
And he thereby (though suff’ring the defeate,)
Might keep his Reareward whole in his Retreate.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 fo
r 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
269