With shouts, and war-like instruments loud sound, Hid all in clouds of smoake they toward vs came, In fearefull fight vpon the groaning ground Both hosts incounter’d, glorie did enflame Both bent to fight, both greedie after fame, Standerd ’gainst standerd stood, and band ’gainst band, Troope clos’d with troope, men singl’d hand to hand. 61. Corbona hight, a Persian farre renown’d, Chargeth our host with all his troopes of horse, Stiffe stands each regiment, no ranke giues ground, Power beats backe power, and force repelleth force, The foes repell’d doth often shift their course, Oft charging and recharging euery ward, Where they do find the rankes most vnprepar’d: 62. Then thicke as haile from aire’s darke regiment, When in blacke clouds a tempest raues in skie, Steele-headed shafts from th’English bowes are sent, Threatning the armed men as they do flie, With singing slaughter, thicke prepar’d on high, Who in their flight, though some fall short of wounds, Yet some againe both men and horse confounds. 63. Here th’angrie courser chaf’t with deadlie sting Of wounding shaft, for verie paine and woe Doth stampe, doth plunge, and vp from ground doth fling, Doth snuffe, doth puffe, doth boggle, snore and blow, Till from his back his rider he doth throw: Then ranging through their host with sinewie shankes He wounds his friends, disturbing all their rankes. 64. There one with shaft infixed in his brest, As the stalke stoopes his top orecharg’d with seed, Hangs downe his head: another here opprest With feare of death, forsakes his wounded steed, Each place throughout the field our eyes did feed With ruine of the foes dispred on ground, Gasping for breath with many a bleeding wound. 65. Greate Ioue the god of conquest, who from harme Did garde our host in euerie such assay, Did through the cloudes stretch out his mightie arme, And on the foes did powre downe swift decay, Slaughtering their men on heapes, few fled away: Twice fiftie thousand dead in field did fall, With stout _Corbona_ their cheife generall. 66. Here could I tell the sack, which did decline The pride of Salem, whose high walles withstood Our fierce assaults twice fifteene dayes and nine, How euerie street polluted with the blood Of Pagans slaine, did seeme a crimson flood: How Egypt’s Soldan did before vs fall, Whom to these warrs, this towne distrest did call. 67.