ace that they had vnder-gone.
Which to amend with Ensignes let at large,
Vpon the English furiously they Charge.

[Stanza 183: _A Simily of the French charging the English._]

At the full Moone looke how th'vnweldy Tide,
Shou'd by some Tempest that from Sea doth rise
At the full height, against the ragged side
Of so me rough Cliffe (of a Gigantick sise)
Foming with rage impetuously doth ride;
The angry French (in no lesse furious wise)
Of men at Armes vpon their ready Horse,
Assayle the English to dispierce their force.

[Stanza 184: _The three hundred Archers layd in ambush, disorder the
French men at Armes at the first encounter._]

When as those Archers there in Ambush layde,
Hauing their Broad side as they came along,
With their barb'd Arrowes the French Horses payde:
And in their flankes like cruell Hornets stong:
They kick and crie, of late that proudly nayde:
And from their seats their Armed Riders flong:
They ranne together flying from the Dike,
And make their Riders one another strike.

[Stanza 185]

And whilst the Front of the French Vanguard makes,
Vpon the English thinking them to Route,
Their Horses runne vpon the Armed stakes,
And being wounded, turne themselues about:
The Bit into his teeth the Courser takes,
And from his Rank flyes with his Master out,
Who either hurts or is hurt of his owne,
If in the throng not both together throwne.

[Stanza 186]

Tumbling on heapes, some of their Horses cast
With their foure feete all vp into the ayre:
Vnder whose backs their Masters breath their last:
Some breake their Raynes, and thence their Riders beare:
Some with their feete stick in the Stirups fast,
By their fierce Iades, are trayled here and there:
Entangled in their Bridles, one back drawes,
And pluckes the Bit out of anothers iawes.

[Stanza 187]

With showers of Shafts yet still the English ply
The French so fast, vpon the point of flight:
With the mayne Battell yet stood Henry by,
Not all this while had medled in the Fight,
Vpon the Horses as in Chase they flye,
Arrowes so thick, in such aboundance light,
That their broad buttocks men like Butts might see,
Whereat for pastime Bow-men shooting be.

[Stanza 188: _Two wings of French horse defeated._]

When soone De Linnies and Sureres hast,
To ayde their friends put to this shamefull foyle,
With two light wings of Hors