Then th’Albanois vnto the rescue came With their horse troopes, amongst whom stout _Norris_ went, And boldly singl’d out a man of fame, Gainst whom his pistoll with full charge he bent To act his fall; but failing in th’euent, His foe-man’s head he with the same did greet, And made him fall at his victorious feet. 112. [Sidenote: Lo. _Will._ of Eresbeie.] Next noble _Willoughby_ with lance in rest, Arm’d like the god of warre on winged horse, Met captaine _George_, opposing brest to brest, Whom from his steed halfe dead with furious force, He downe did beare in his winde-winged course, Who falling said: “I yeeld me to thy might, [Sidenote: This he In that I see thou art a seemely knight.” spake in French.] 113. [Sidenote: _Rob._ Earle of Essex.] Then noble _Deuorax_, Mars his yongest sonne, Chear’d vp his troope, “Fellowes in armes,” quoth he, “The honorable prease let vs not shunne, Ne with the dread of death dismaied be, But for your countrie’s glorie follow me:” Which said, he fiercely charg’d on th’enemie, And shew’d high proofe of his stout valiancie. 114. [Sidenote: Sir _William Russell_.] To second him, _Russell_ that martiall knight, Like feathered shaft sent from a stiffe-bent bow, Or boysterous Boreas in his nimble flight, With weightie lance did charge vpon the foe, And horse and man to ground did ouerthrow, Who with affright did from his furie runne, As braying goats the king of beasts doth shunne. 115. Amongst them all, that impe of honor’s bed, That worthie of the world, that hardie knight, The noble _Sidnie_ to aduentures led With glory-thirsting zeale in death’s despight Vpon his foes himselfe did noblie quight: For in one skirmish with high valiancie, Thrice did he charge vpon the enemie. 116. But cursed fortune, foe to famous men, Beholding _Sidnie’s_ deeds with enuious eie, Turning her malice into raging teene, With deadly shot did wound him on the thigh, Which from a foe-man’s fatall peece did flie: Whose timelesse end, if time did serue thereto, I should bewaile in lines of lasting woe. 117. Many more sonnes of Mars his noble race, In this daie’s fight great fame with perill wonne, Yea many high exploits each breathing space, By many a worthie wight were vndergone; Mongst whom that deed with resolution done, By valiant _Williams_, and the Belgian _Skinke_, Downe to obliuion’s den shall neuer sinke. 118. [Sidenote: _Anno eodem 28._] [Sidenote: _H. Archer_, Author.]