And of the English rid your Countrey cleane, If on their backs, but Callice walles they win, Whose Frontier Townes you easly may maintaine, With a strong Army still to keepe them in; Then let our Ships make good the mouth of Seyne, And at your pleasure Harflew you may winne, Ere with Supplys againe they can inuade, Spent in the Voyage lately hither made. [Stanza 132] That day at Poyteers, in that bloudy Field, The sudaine turne in that great Battell then, Shall euer teach me, whilest I Armes can weeld, Neuer to trust to multitudes of men; Twas the first day that ere I wore a Sheeld, Oh let me neuer see the like agen! Where their Blacke Edward such a Battell wonne As to behold it might amaze the Sunne. [Stanza 133] There did I see our conquered Fathers fall, Before the English on that fatall ground, When as to ours their number was but small, And with braue Spirits France ne’r did more abound, Yet oft that Battaile into minde I call, Whereas of ours, one man seemd all one wound, I instance this; yet humbly here submit My selfe to fight, if you shall thinke it fit. [Stanza 134: _Young mens counsailes ofttimes proue the vtter subuersion both of themselues and others._] The Marshall and the Constable about To second, what this sager Duke had said: The youthfull Lords into a cry brake out, Gainst their opinions, so that ouer-sway’d, Some seeming of their Loyalties to doubt; Alanzon as an Oracle obay’d, And not a French then present, but doth sweare To kill an English if ynow there were. [Stanza 135: _The French King sendeth to dare the King of England to Battaile._] A Herault posted presently away, The King of England to the field to dare, To bid him cease his spoyle, nor to delay Gainst the French power his forces but prepare: For that King Charles determin’d to display His bloody Ensignes, and through France declare The day, and place, that Henry should set downe, In which their Battailes, should dispose the Crowne. [Stanza 136: _The King of Englands modest answer._] This newes to Henry by the Herault brought, As one dispassion’d soberly (quoth he) Had your King pleas’d, we sooner might haue fought; For now my Souldiers much enfeebled be: Nor day, nor place, for Battaile shall be sought By English Henry: but if he seeke me, I to my vtmost will my selfe defend, And to th’Almighties pleasure leaue the end. [Stanza 137] The brute of this intended Battaile spred, The coldnesse of each sleeping courage warmes, And in the French that daring boldnesse bred: Like casting Bees that they arise in swarmes, Thinking the English downe so farre to tred, As past that day ne’r more to rise in Armes, T’extirpe the name, if possible it were, At least not after to be heard of there. [Stanza 138: _A Simily of the rising of the French._]