The Mirror for Magistrates :: :: University of Virginia Library

Yf erst at Prince affayres wee counted were of truste,
To fight in waeged warres, as Captayne gainst the foes,
And might therefore aliue receiue the guerdon iuste,
Which ay his maiesty employde on those:
Why should wee so keepe silence now, and not disclose
Our noble acts to those remayne aliue,
T'encourage them the like exployts t'achiue?

For if when as wee werde, for Prince and publique weale,
We might to ech for both haue time and place to speake,
Then why not now, yf wee to both appeale?
Sith both well knowe our dealeings were not weake.
Wee clayme as ryghte, in trueth our myndes to breake,
The rather eke wee thinke to speake wee franchizde ar,
Because wee serude for peace and dyde in Prince his war.

464

Which graunted so, and held deserued due,
I may full well on stage supply the place a while,
Till I haue playnly layde before your vew
That I haue cause, as these, to playne of Fortunes guyle,
Which smirking though at first, she seeme to smoothe and smyle,
(If Fortune bee) who deemde themselues in skyes to dwell,
She thirleth downe to dreade the gulfes of ghastly hell.

But here I let a while the Lady Fortune stay,
To tell what time I liu'd, & what our warres were then,
The great exployts wee did, and where our armies laye,
Eke of the prayse of some right honourable men,
Which things with eyes I saw, calde now to minde agen.
What I performed present in the fight,
I will in order and my fall resite.

In youth I seru'd that royall Henry fifte the King,
Whose prayse for martiall feats eternall fame retaynes,
When hee the Normanes stout did in subiection bring,
My selfe was vnder then his ensignes taking paynes.
With loyall hart I faught, pursude my Prince his gaines.
There dealt I so that time my fame to rayse,
French wryters yet my name and manhoode prayse.

And erste as Burdets diuers warlike wights,
(In Warwicke shire theyr lands in Arrow ar)
Were for good seruice done made worthy Knights,
Whose noble acts be yet recounted far:
Euen so my selfe well framde to peace or war,
Of these the heyre by due discent I came,
Sir Nicholas Burdet Knight, which had to name.

That time the noble Iohn of Bedford Duke bare sway,
And feared was in Fraunce for courage stout and fell,
Hee lou'de mee for my fight and person, (though I say)
And with revenues mee rewarded yearely well.

465

I playde the faythfull subiects parte, the truth to tell,
And was accounted loyall, constant still,
Of stomake, worship great, and warlike scill.

But then (O greefe to tell) ere long this pearelesse King,
When hee restored had his right vnto the Crowne
The Duchye all of Normandy, eke subiect bring
The Frenchemen all, and set Lieutenants in eache towne
High Regent made of Fraunce, then Fortune gan to frowne,
Hee then departed life, too soone alas:
Som men suppose his grace empoysonde was.

Thou Fortune slye, what meanste thou thus, these prancks to play?
False Fortune blereyde blinde, vnsteady startling still,
What meanste thou turning thus thy flattering face away,
Inconstant where thou bearest most good will?
Is it thy nature then? or iste thy wonted scill?
It cost thee naught, they say it commes by kinde,
As thou art bisme, so are thine actions blinde.

I nothing doubte then thou thy selfe shalt fall.
I trust to see the time when thou shalt bee forgot.
For why thy pride, and pompe and powre must vanish all,
Thy name shall dye for aye, and perish quite I wot.
And when thou shalt bee counted but a sot,
The noble wights which liude and dyde in worthy fame,
In heauen and earth shall finde an euerlasting name.

But words of course are these of Fortune had,
When vnto Princes haps chaunce good or ill.
God sends to euery sorte these tempests sad,
When from his worde they swarue and heauenly will.
Men must endeuour then to please his goodnesse still,
And then come life or death, come ioy, come smarte:
No Fortunes frowne can daunte the doughty harte.

466

The famous King so dead, his son but nyne months olde
Henry the sixt, of England was proclaymed King:
And then the Frenchmen wexte more stoute and bolde,
His youth occasion gaue them to conspire the thing,
Which might them all from due subiection bring.
On which the Councell calde a Parliament:
Of French that might the treasons high preuent.

Wherein the Duke of Bedford my good Lorde and frend
Was Regent made the Prince his deputy in Fraunce:
The Duke of Glocester Protectour was, to th'end
To rule in cases such at home might hap to chaunce:
They chose to garde the Prince, in honour to aduaunce
Henry Beuforde Byshop of Winchester,
And Thomas the noble Duke of Excester.

But here before those things coulde well be setled sure,
(As great affayres of Kingdomes longer time do take)
The Frenchmen did by treason, force, and coyne procure
Some townes which English were in Fraunce theyr fayth forsake.
A long discourse it were of all recitall make:
But of my chaunce that time, resite will I,
Which seru'd in warres my Prince in Normandy.

Before the Mount S. Michaell as in seige I lay,
In confines of the Normanes and the Bretons land,
From townsemen famisht nigh we vitailes kept away,
And made them oft in daunger of dis-Mounteing stand:
But it being strong and also stoutly mand,
Euen by our losses they gate harte of grasse,
And wee declineing saw what Fortune was.

Yet nathelesse wee thought by famine make them yeelde,
Eke they by fight or succours hoapt the seige to rayse,
T'accomplish which they rusht on sodayne out to feelde,
As bent to dy or win the wanted foode with prayse:

467

And wee as ready were for them at all assayes.
These eager impes whome foodewant feazde to fight amayne,
Wee forc'd them dye, fall, fly, to take theyr forte agayne.

Where I in chase pursude them euen to the towne,
Tane prisner was, a while for ransom lay:
But then the worthy duke the Regent of renowne,
Did for mee quite disburse the price requirde to pay.
The seige wee raysde, from thence wee went our way,
And I redeemed bare this blanke in minde,
Till of requite I might occasion finde.

Which thus ere long befell, to this a while giue eare:
When Arthur Earle of Richmond to S. Iaques came
De Beuuron where my selfe and other captaynes were,
Which had repared well and fortefide the same,
Wee made him flye, to his immortall shame:
Euen thus to him and forty thousand moe,
Fiue hundreth English gaue the ouerthroe.

Long while hee battery layde agaynst the wall,
Thereby to make a breatche for them to enter in.
But well perceiuing still his shot to profite small,
And that wee weyde not of his powre a pinne,
On euery side afreshe hee did th'assault begin:
Yet wee so bare them off and beate them downe,
They durst not seaze or enter on the towne.

But wearied with the seige and sault they pausde a while,
Consulting what were best, and so did wee likewise:
They founde the feate, they thought should surely vs beguile,
And in an euening came t'accomplish th'enterprise.
A sharp assaulte they gaue. Alarme my mates wee rise:
On both the sides they scalde, the forte to gayne.
But from the scales and walles wee flang them downe amayne.

468

It was my charge that time to keepe a bulwarke bace,
Where Bretons came along to enter by a streit:
Twas in a botome lowe, a pond was by the place,
By which they needes must passe vp to a posterne gate.
I meant to make them fishe the poole without a bayt,
Protesting ere they there should get the wall
Wee would as English dye, or gieue our foes the fall.

The trompets sound tan tara, tan tan tara right,
The guns were shot founce-founce-founce, fomp-fum, fow-powthow,
The dromze went downe-dun downe, the fluits fyt-fyte-fyt, fyte,
The weapons clish-clash and the captaynes nowe-now nowe.
With billes wee beat them downe, with shafts wee shot them throw.
The gory ground did groane, the smoky shot and cryes
Dimd all the ayre, and thundred through the scyes.

S. Denise cryde the French, and Bretons glahe-lahee,
S. George the English cryde, fight-fight-fight, kill-kill-kill:
Fight-fight (quoth I) come on, they flee, they flee, they flee.
And there withall wee vsde a poynt of warlike scill,
Wee causde the men within to crye vnto vs still
Fight Suffolke now, fight-fight and Salsbury:
Fight fight you noble Earles, the Bretons flee they flee.

With that amazed all the Bretons gan recoyle,
Some drowned in the pond, wherin they ran for feare,
And I pursude the flight, to wrecke my captiue foyle,
Wee payde them in the chase disordred as they were,
Seuen hundred slew, tooke fifty prisners there,
Gaynde eyghteene standerds, and one banner more:
Yet I and mine not fully were fowrescore.

469

Of this exployt when th'Earle of Richmond herde,
Which gaue an hoate assault on th'other side the towne,
No lesse was hee displeasde, amazed, than afferde,
To heare the names of those two Earles of high renowne,
His guilty courage quaylde, his heart was daunted downe,
Hee causde the trompets sounde retrayte away:
To scale our walles hee durst no longer stay.

At midnight hee dislodgde, from seige hee made departe
The Constable of Fraunce (late Earle of Richemond) fled,
And coward Fougiers sped, with such as tooke his parte,
For haste perhaps with feare lest hee should lose his heade.
They left two hundred pypes of flowre and bisket bread,
Greate gunnes foureteene, three hundred pypes of wine,
Two hundred frailes of figs and raysons fine.

Fiue hundred barels they of hering left beside,
Of pouder for our gunnes full forty barels more,
They fled without theyr tents, the dasterds durst not byde,
For feare they could not stay, to take away theyr store.
Haue you oft hearde the like, of cowards such before?
Those forty thousand, Bretons, Frenche, and Scots,
Fowre score them foyled, made them flee like sots.

When this, that noble man, the Duke of Bedford hearde,
How I did quite my selfe, and seru'd my Prince so well,
Hee mee procured of the King as great rewarde
As my deserts coulde wish, and more the truth to tell,
Chiefe butlership of Normandy vnto me fell,
Reuenues eke in Normandy of lands,
A thousand crownes came yearely to my hands.

I after this was sent to make inroade
Upon the coaste of Bretaine, for to bate theyr pride,
A band of horsemen tooke without aboade,
The duke of Somerset made me theyr guide,

470

To many townes about theyr bounds wee ride:
Set them on fire, or made them ransom pay,
Tooke store of prisners, wrought them much decay.

Retourned victours safe to Normandy,
With good successe, for why the cause was good:
And of our Prince were guerdonde gratefully
With laude and gifts, as for our seruice stoode.
This makes the Captaynes venture life and bloode,
And souldiers serue with heart in what they may,
Which are assurde of honour, prayse, and pay.

Yee worthy wights aliue, which loue your Countreys weale,
And for your Princes porte such warres doe vndertake,
Learne so for Countrey yours with forayne foes to deale,
See that of manhood good, so great accompts yee make.
It nothing vayles in peace, to sweare, stur, face or crake:
In werres hee winnes the fame of noble wight
Who warlike deales, for Prince and publique right.

Yf you so poynted bee, to serue your Prince in war,
As erste was I, and muste before the muster take,
Retayne such souldiers as well made, strong, seemely ar,
Brought vp to labour harde, of such accompt doe make:
These able are at neede to stand and keepe the stake,
When facing foysters fit for Tiburne frayes
Are foodesicke faynt, or hartsicke run theyr wayes.

At home a man may finde a nomber euery day,
Which weare theyr weapons still, as all the worlde were war,
And keepe a coyle to beare the best of blades away,
With buclers braue at backs, to shew what men they are.
In peace at home they sweare, stare, foyste, royst, fight, and iar:
But when abroade they feare of warres the smarte,
Some better souldiers yede from driueing cart.

471

In warres to serue (as wee) and weapons haue
When warlike stormes do rage, beseemes a warlike man:
In pleasaunt peace who sets him selfe to bandeing braue,
And faceing fares at home, abroade doe nothing can,
(Though nere so much hee boaste) fie on him cowerd than:
For not in gauntlet, sworde, targ, oathes, hayre, staring eyes:
But in the breast, good courage, vertue lyes.

But here perhaps (you say) I fall a noate too lowe,
Beneath the persons of these worthy Peeres and mee.
Tis true indeede, and yet such fruite hereof may growe:
As eke the Meane hereby, his iarring out may see.
Without good meane, the song can neuer sweetly gree.
Leaue out the meane, or let him keepe no tune:
And you shall sing when Easter falles in Iune.

Euen so, if meaner sorts doe iangle here and iar
To languish vnder Mars, but fill good peace with fight,
As discorde foule in musike, fit they for the war:
They neuer can atchiue the victory aright.
Leade such as square or feare, then farewell all, good night.
A sheepe is euen as good to starteing stand and beae:
As hee that iangles, wrangles, rangles, runnes aweae.

Then who so deales for warre, must wisely make his marte,
And choose such souldiers stout will stiffe in warfare stande.
Yf hee not recke what ruffian roysters take his parte,
Hee weeldes vnwisely then the mace of Mars in hande.
He must be able eke, to deeme for sea and lande
What men may serue, to best aduauntage make,
And them enstruct fine warlike poynts to take.

With scilfull knowledge fraight hee muste be voyde of feare,
Of wisedom so discrete, so sober, graue and sage,
To deeme, perceiue, abyde, aduentures both to beare
As may in all exployts of fight with Fortune wage:

472

Hee must haue art in vre, and vse not rule by rage:
Wise dealing sets the souldiers sure in ray,
Wilde ouer rashnesse casteth all away.

The cause, grounde, place and time, the order of theyr fights,
The valure of his foes, and what is theyr intent,
The weather fayre or foule, occasion of the nights,
What witty wyles and pollicies may them preuent,
And how the time or store of th'enmies hath beene spent.
All these (I say) must well be weyde before,
By him that sets in warres of credit store.

In all which poynts that noble Duke his grace did passe,
I meane the Regent good, for chuseing, vseing men,
By nature framde thereto, hee wonders scilfull was,
And frendly vsed all, instructing now and then
Not only Captaynes stout, that were his countrey men,
But also sondry souldiers as occasion came,
And taught them how to warres themselues to frame.

His princely grace and gesture yet mee thinks I see,
And how hee bare himselfe, to deale for warre or peace:
In warre full Mars-like, hardy, sterne, and bolde was hee:
And meeke and prudent mercifull, when stormes of warres did cease:
Whom pity mou'd as much inflicted paynes to releace,
As euer wight in whom the broyles of war
Or force of fights, had entred in so far.

Which if agayne to rue the losse of such a frend,
In sight with playnts, of teares the fountaynes out might flow:
So all lamenting Muses would mee waylings lend,
The dolours of my heart in sight agayne to show:
I would deplore his death, and Englands cause of woe,
With such sad mourning tunes, and such sobs, sighes, and teares
As were not seene for one, this ten times twenty yeares.

473

For why this noble Prince, when wee had needed moste,
To set the states of Fraunce and England in a stay,
That feared was of foes in euery forayne coaste,
To soone (alas) this Duke was taken hence away.
In Fraunce hee dyde helasse lament his losse wee may,
That Regent regall, rule of publique right.
Loe howe my hurtes afreshe beweepe this wanted wight.

“With that his woundes (mee thought) gan freshly bleede,
“And hee waxte faynt and fell, and my salte teares
“Ran downe my rufull cheekes, with trickling speede,
“(For who coulde chuse that such cause sees and heares.)
“O worthy Knight (quod I) whose loyall faith appeares:
“Cease wayles, rise vp, instruct my quiuering pen,
“To tell the rest of Fortunes dublings then.

I haue (quoth he) not Fortunes flatterie to accuse,
Nor Fate nor Destenie, nor any fancie fainde:
I haue no cause t'affirme that these coulde ought misuse
This noble Prince, whose life & acts such fame and honour gaynde,
But our deserts, our sinnes, and our offences staynde
This noble Ile and vs, our sinnes (I say)
Offending God, hee tooke this Prince away.

Helasse how loath can I retourne, and leaue this pearle in Roane
My Lorde Ihon Duke of Bedford, there his corps yet lyes
Enclosde with costly tombe, wrought curiously of stone,
By North the altar high (delighting many Martiall eyes)
Within our Ladie churche, where fame him lifts to skies,
By dayly vew his name renoumbde exalted is,
And soule, I trust, full sweetly sweames in blisse.

Needes must I enterline my talke a while with this:
And then I will retourne to tell you how I sped.

474

When once the French men sawe this noble Duke to misse,
Which English armyes all gaynste foes with fortunes led
They liude at large, rebeld against their soueraygne head,
Forsooke their oathes, alleageaunce all denyde,
And English men with all their force defyde.

While hee did liue, they durst not so to deale,
They durst not dare, with th'English oft to fraye,
They found it was not for theire owne or publique weale,
To rise againste theire Lorde the Regent in araye.
Soone after hee was deade, departed hence away,
Both French and Normanes close to win did cloaze,
And wee deuided were, our rightes abroade to loaze.

The feende (I thinke) deuisde a way to make the breatche,
By enuye bred in breastes of two right noble Peeres,
Which mischiefe hatcht in England, then may teache
All noble men that liue, hence many hundreth yeares,
Beware of Enuye blacke, how far shee deares.
Euen their examples tell, how true our Christe doth say:
Each realme, towne, house, in ciuile strife, shall desolate decay.

Perdie the Duke of Yorke was Regent made of Fraunce,
At which the Duke of Somerset did much repine,
Hee thought they rather ought him so t'aduaunce
King Henries kin, for honour of his Princely lyne:
But marke the grape which grew on this vngracious vine,
I will not say it after stroyde their lynes and houses nye,
But this I say, wee dayely sawe dishonour came thereby.

For though the hauty Duke were worthy it to haue,
As well for courage good, as vertues honour due:
Yet sith to'th Duke of Yorke th'election first it gaue,
And hee the sadle mist, what neded hee to rue?
When tumultes great and sturres in Fraunce yet daylye grew,

475

Hee nilde the Regent hence dispatche in many dayes:
That losse might win him hurte, or long disprayse.

Wylde wengand on such ire, wherby the realme doth lose,
What gayne haue they, which heaue at honour soe?
At home disdayne and greefe, abroade they frend their foes.
I must bee playne in that which wrought my webs of woe,
My webs (quod I?) would God they had wrought no moe.
It was the cause of many a bleeding English breaste,
And to the French, their end of woefull warres addresse.

I dare aduouche yf they had firme in frendship boade,
And southly as beseemde ioynde frendly hand with hands,
They had not felt defame in any foraine roade,
Nor had not so beene sent, with losse from Gallia strands:
They might possession kept, still of their conquerde lands,
And able beene to tryde them selues so true,
As myght haue made their enmyes still to rue.

For while the Duke of Somerset made here so greate delayes,
That into Fraunce the succours smale and slackly came,
Not only Paris than was loste, within few dayes,
That famous flowre of Fraunce, of far renowmed fame,
The Frenche (I say) not only gate and kept the same,
But by this meanes, in Fraunce we dayly felt such smarte,
As might with pitie perst an adamantine harte.

O greate mishap, the noble Duke of Bedford once being dead,
Our welch went backe, by discords foule dispite wee loste
Not only townes in Fraunce, and captaines armyes led,
But many soldiers eke with labour, spence and cost:
And though full oft wee made the Frenche men smell of the rost,
Yet in the end wee gayne of fyght the fame,
And they by crafte and treason gate the game.

476

What resteth more, it were, perdie, to long to tell,
Of batayles great and broiles which happened dayly still,
The stories eke declare aduentures which befell:
Although (God wot) the writers wanted poyntes of scill,
Of whom to speake a while, degresse agayne I will,
And partely shewe what one hee oughte to bee,
Which takes on him to write an Historie.

A chronicler should well in diuers tongues bee seene,
And eke in all the artes hee oughte to haue a sighte,
Whereby hee myght the truth of diuers actions deeme,
And both supply the wantes, correct that is not righte:
Hee should haue eloquence, and full and fitly write,
Not mangle stories, snatching here and there:
Nor gloaze to make a volume greate appeare.

Hee should bee of such countenaunce and wit,
As should giue witnes to the Histories hee writes,
Hee should bee able well his reasons so to knit,
As should continue well the matter hee resytes:
Hee should not prayse, disprayse, for fauour or dispytes,
But should so place each thing in order due,
As myght approue the stories to bee true.

But this may haps the time may seeke at length redresse,
And then such stories nowe and noble acts as dye,
May come agayne to lighte (at least defaced lesse)
Yf from the Britaynes first antiquities they try.
In greate defects yf they the trueth supply:
Then shall the readers fuller stories finde,
And haue wherby to recreate the minde.

But now retourne I must, and breifly heare declare
Before my death, what sundry happes wee had.
In warres right variousely the states of Captaynes fare,
Now weale, now woe, now ioyfull, now right sad.

477

But who well ends, though all his haps were bad,
Let him earst sinke or swim, lose, wyn, bee slayne, die, fall,
Yf hee dye well, h'is thrise and fower tymes blest of all.

In Fraunce eyght leagues from Paris, Pontoise stands,
(Tweene that and Roane) which wee had wonne before:
And so wee held it English safely in our handes.
For to our Prince the men allegeaunce swore,
And they remaynd obedient euermore,
Tyll from their necks to reaue the English yoke,
They might finde meanes by whom to stricke the stroke.

When these sawe Paris loste, and cities moe beside,
And what in Fraunce and Normandie reuoltes had done,
They thought no longer subiect to abyde,
But sought occasion how they mighte by Frenche be won.
As of our losse reports did dayly to them run,
So with King Charles th'agreede when to betray the towne,
And force the English flee, or yeelde, or beate them downe.

For why, the powre of Fraunce coulde not with mighty hoste
Performe to wyn by force from vs th'assaulted towne,
Them scaleing often from the walles wee toste,
On euery syde full fast wee flang the French men downe.
Our noble actes before had gotten such renowne,
And Fortune erste had past with vs so farre,
They had small hope to wyn our fortes by warre.

Wherefore King Charles assayde the secrete saute,
Not by his force of French, but by his golden fee,
Corrupting diuers Burgeses to make the faute,
Whereby an entry shoulde to his oppugning bee:
And they (as erste is sayde) were willing to agree,
Like periurde theeues conspirde by secrete fyne deuice,
Gaue Pontoise vp, and tooke the promiste price.

478

But in November next when it was sharpe and colde,
And dayly froste had dryde and parched hard the grounde,
Wee were in hope agayne to get of Pontoise holde,
Which erste the Townesmen solde, for gayne of many a pound.
The snow fell fast, lay thick, and couered well the ground,
And ditches were so harde about the towne befrore,
That on the Ise by euery syde wee safely might get ore.

The Lorde Ihon Clifforde was cheife captayne then,
Which with vs captaynes did this pollicie deuise,
That wee in clothing white and soldiers euery man,
Should in our armoure finelye vs disguyse.
The nexte nyght so wee should to the assaute aryse,
And passe the frozen ditche vnto the wall,
With laders scale, and kill the watchmen all.

Wee so preparde our selues as time occasion gaue,
And drest in white coates trim, it ioyde our hartes to see
How fine wee paste the ditch, what good successe we haue:
How on the walles we fynde the watch nigh frozen bee:
As noble Greekes on Troie, on Pontoise seasonde wee,
Wee slewe the watch, wee beate the soldiers downe,
Some prisners tooke, and tooke withall the Towne.

Of stately captaynes french, was Iohn de Villers one
Within the taken towne, and Narrabon a Knight
Burgunion: yet they fled, away they gate them gone:
They durst not bide againste the blanched boyes to fight.
Wee paide the periurde knaues the Burgesses that night,
And gate as much of honour and renowne
As they gate shame and losse, which bought and solde the towne.

Marke well the frenchmens foyles in all our worthy war
In these two regall Henryes times, and you shall see
How wee surpast the french in valure farre:

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And bend for Prince and realme so valiaunt for to bee:
Which if yee shall, and deale in seruice as did wee,
I nothing doubt renowne and fame shall say,
That noble England beares for warres the palme away.

But when King Charles had heard how Pontoise men had sped,
His army strayght assembled hee therefore agayne,
Wherewith to win this towne afresh th'assaute hee led,
Hee pyners set to trenche and vnder mine amayne,
Made bastiles for defence, yet all this toyle was vayne.
For battery of our walles hee spent his pouder still,
Made freshly frenche assaults, but did no ill.

The noble Duke of Yorke discharged late before,
When now the Earle of Warwicke chaunst at Roane to dye,
Being Regent chosen once agayne of Fraunce, as yore,
(Th'Earle of Warwicke Regent was two yeares perdy)
Arryude in Fraunce, to rowse the frenche King he did hye,
(Which lay beseigeing Pontoise, as I sayde)
With him to fight, and eke to bring vs ayde.

The frenche King fled, for haste he left his store behinde:
When hee was once assurde the Duke of Yorke drue nere,
Hee durst not stay to bide the time or place assinde
To fight our Regent with, but fled away for feare.
By these assayes you see what men in Fraunce they were,
Discouradgde oft, slayne, put to flight and fall:
By sight, force, fight, and names of nombers small.

There when the Duke had fortefyde our Pontoise towne,
Then he pursude the frenche King erst that fled,
To Poyssy, where hee laye with Lords of frenche renowne.
Before which Towne, the Duke his noble army led:
The frenche King durste not out of Poyssy put his head:
And yet there came to skirmish out frenche gentilmen,
Of which some slayne, fowre tane, the reste retyrde agen.

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The Duke to bid him batayle did pretend,
Yf hee coulde there encounter with him thoe:
But forth agayne hee durste not come nor send,
For feare hee should receiue the foyle and ouerthroe.
On which the Duke dislodgde, departeing Poyssy froe,
To Maunte, and Roane, from thence his grace did hye,
T'appease the broyles of strife in Normandy.

But then the frenche King calling vnto mynde his losse,
His charges in the seige, his bastiles trenches made,
How erste wee did them thence, sans bag and bagage tosse,
Eke how from seige hee durste not staye the store to lade,
And how their Fortunes ofte, in fighte went retrograde,
How neighboures ill to Paris, wee of Pontoise were:
Hee cast asyde his frenche and faynteing feare.

The rather yet, for why, Parisiens ay did rayle,
They sayde hee wanted courage good, hee durst not fight,
Hee lackte no soldiers good, his feeble heart did fayle:
Le Roy (quoth they) du France, les Anglois point ne nuit:
Le Roy ne ose pas pour Pontoise faire poursuit:
Le Roy est Lourd, sans cueur: car peu de gens,
Fait nostre Roy & pais faire grande dispens.

On this King Charles retournde with mighty hoste,
To vindicate this great reproche and shame:
And vnto Pontoise gaue assaulte in poste
Full hotly, when wee feared leaste the same.
Whereon, to fight agaynst him all our force wee frame,
But number great at th'entry gote such hand,
Wee coulde not forth agayne their force aband.

With trompets sounding, tan tan-tar'aloude
The larum bell wee rong, our selues to try dispose,
To make them pay the price of our distresse wee vowde,
Before wee would possession got, of Pontoise loze:

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In euery street wee met the strength of all our foes,
And made them passe by deadly dint away,
Which ventured first our English mates to slay.

Why now my frends, for England fighte, I cryde:
Yf euer English hearts your noble breasts posseste,
I promise you to make them flinche, yf I may byde:
Mates follow me. Amongst my foes I rusht before the rest:
O here come on (quoth I) now fighte wee for the beste.
And therewithall I vsde such courage, force and myghte:
As made my foes to fall, and soldiers fitly fighte.

Yf we doe leese (quoth I) the frenche men shall not gayne:
So if wee wyn, tis worth the while to keepe arraye.
Yf yee stand stiflye toet, wele make them peaze the paine,
And leade with losse of lyuely lymmes the lande awaye.
Although they fearcely fighte, in hope vs all to slaye:
Lo sixe to one they fall, and deade they lye:
Wee English men, in triomphe fight, and honour dye.

With bloody broiles of war the haplesse towne did smoke,
The children sawe theire fathers deare, to bleede their last:
The wyues bewayled muche the fatall stroke,
Which forste their husbands bleede, fall, dye so fast:
Helas the weemen cryde, the woefull streets that past:
(When soe they sawe the channels bloody streame)
What plague is this, that pesters so our Reame?

Is no remorce of lyfe, but kill, kill, kill? (helasse)
Kill, kill the English cry, and valiantly they fighte:
What hap had wee to see these mischiues com to passe?
Helas le sang de nous amis, la mort helas:
The maydens cry, the widowes wayle, and aged mourne,
With wringing hands vplift, & wish them selues vnborne.

Of vs one thousand Englishmen within the Towne,
Sustaynde the force, the powre and puissaunce of their King:

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And of the French that faught, wee beate three thousand downe,
Wee slew no lesse, for all the nomber hee did bring.
Yf this vntrue shall seeme, discredite myne to ring,
A french Historian writeing for them selues shall say:
Three thousand Frenchmen there, were slayne that day.

Four hundreth Englishmen that tyme were slayne in fighte,
My selfe was one, with losse they wan the towne perdie:
But if I might haue liude t'aue tride our righte,
With one for euery seuen, by ods as wee did dye:
I doubte not (so the rest, would done their partes as I.)
But that King Charles, his Lords, nor all his men,
Should scarce haue tane the towne of Pontoise then.

What neade I more debate of these thinges here:
In England was the faulte, though we did feele the smarte.
While they at home, at bate and strife for honours were,
They lost abroade of Normandy the greater parte.
To thinke on this torments agayne my wounded harte,
That Lords at home, should striue about the name,
And loose abroade their Countries weale and fame.

Let English Peeres abandon such contentious strife,
It hurtes the Publique weale, decayes the state:
It reaues the yeares too soone of longer lyfe:
It freates the breste with ruste of baend debate:
It giues the checke to him that giues the mate:
Then thus I ende, that wight of all is bleste
Which liues in loue with God, his prince and country best.

So Higins yf thou write, how this my fall befell;
Place it in Baldwines Miroir with the reste.
From crazed scull sith here my mynde I tell:
Sith bleedeing hart these ruefull rymes expreste:
This mangled tale beseemes my person beste.
Do so (quoth hee) and let it passe euen thus:
Viuit (quoth I) post funera virtus.