Exeter had the rear,
A braver man not there,
O Lord, how hot they were,
On the false Frenchmen!
They now to fight are gone,
Armour on armour shone,
Drum now to drum did groan,
To hear, was wonder;
That with the cries they make,
The very earth did shake,
Trumpet to trumpet spake,
Thunder to thunder.
Well it thine age became,
O noble Erpingham,
Which didst the signal aim
To our hid forces;
When from a meadow by,
Like a storm suddenly,
The English archery
Stuck the French horses.
With Spanish yew so strong,
Arrows a cloth-yard long,
That like to serpents stung,
Piercing the weather;
None from his fellow starts,
But playing manly parts,
And like true English hearts,
Stuck close together.
When down their bows they threw,
And forth their bilbos drew,
And on the French they flew,
Not one was tardy;
Arms were from shoulders sent, Scalps to the teeth were rent, Down the French peasants went, Our men were hardy.
This while our noble king,
His broad sword brandishing,
Down the French host did ding,
As to o'erwhelm it,
And many a deep wound lent,
His arms with blood besprent,
And many a cruel dent
Bruised his helmet.
Gloucester, that duke so good,
Next of the royal blood,
For famous England stood,
With his brave brother;
Clarence, in steel so bright,
Though but a maiden knight,
Yet in that furious fight
Scarce such another.
Warwick in blood did wade,
Oxford the foe invade,
And cruel slaughter made,
Still as they ran up;
Suffolk his axe did ply,
Beaumont and Willoughby,
Bare them right doughtily,
Ferrers and Fanhope.
Upon Saint Crispin's day
Fought was this noble fray,
Which fame did not delay
To England to carry;
O when shall English men,
With such acts fill a pen,
Or England breed again
Such a King Harry?
(He) quickly arms him for the field,
A little cockle-shell his shield,
Which he could very bravely wield,
Yet could it not be pierced :
His spear a bent both stiff and strong,
And well near of two inches long;
The pile was of a horsefly's tongue,
Whose sharpness naught reversed.
And put him on a coat of mail,
Which was of a fish's scale,
That when his foe should him assail,
No point should be prevailing.
His rapier was a hornet's sting,
It was a very dangerous thing;
For if he chanc'd to hurt the king,
It would be long in healing.
His helmet was a beetle's head,
Most horrible and full of dread,
That able was to strike one dead,
Yet it did well become him:
And for a plume a horse's hair,
Which being tossed by the air,
Had force to strike his foe with fear,
And turn his weapon from him.
Himself he on an earwig set,
Yet scarce he on his back could get,
So oft and high he did curvet
Ere he himself could settle:
He made him turn, and stop, and bound,
To gallop, and to trot the round,
He scarce could stand on any ground,
He was so full of mettle.
The Naiads and the nymphs extremely overjoy'd,
And on the winding banks all busily employ'd,
Upon this joyful day, some dainty chaplets twine:
Some others chosen out, with fingers neat and fine,
Brave anadems do make: some baldrics up do bind :
Some, garlands and to some the nosegays were assigned
As best their skill did serve. But for that Thame should be
Still man-like as himself, therefore they will that he
Should not be drest with flowers to garden that belong
(His bride that better fit), but only such as sprung
From the replenish'd meads and fruitful pastures near.
To sort which flowers, some sit, some making garlands were;
The primrose placing first, because that in the spring.
It is the first appears, then only flourishing;
The azur'd hare-bell next with them they neatly mix'd,
T'allay whose luscious smell they woodbind plac'd betwixt.
Amongst those things of scent, there prick they in the lily:
And near to that again her sister daffodilly.
To sort these flowers of show, with th' other that were sweet, The cowslip then they couch, and the oxlip for her meet: The columbine amongst they sparingly do set,
The yellow kingcup wrought in many a curious fret,
And now and then among, of eglantine a spray,
By which again a course of lady-smocks they lay:
The crow-flower, and thereby the clover flower they stick,
The daisy, over all those sundry sweets so thick,
As Nature doth herself to imitate her right:
Who seems in that her pearl so greatly to delight,
That every plain therewith she powd'reth to behold:
The crimson darnel flowers, the blue-bottle and gold,
Which though esteem'd but weeds, yet for their dainty hues,
And for their scent not ill, they for this purpose choose.
Thus having told you now the bridegroom Thame was drest,
I'll show you how the bride fair Isis was invest;
Sitting to be attired under her bower of state,
Which scorns a meaner sort than fits a princely rate,
In anadems, for whom they curiously dispose
The red, the dainty white, the goodly damask rose;
For the rich ruby, pearl, and amethyst, men place
In kings' imperial crowns, the circle that enchase.
The brave carnation then, with sweet and sovereign power
(So of his colour call'd, although a July flower),
With th' other of his kind, the speckled and the pale:
Then th' odoriferous pink, that sends forth such a gale
Of sweetness; yet in scents as various as in sorts.
The purple violet then, the pansy there supports :
The marygold above t' adorn the arched bar:
The double daisy, thrift, the button-bachelor,
Sweet-william, sops-in-wine, the campion and to these
Some lavender they put, with rosemary and bays:
Sweet marjoram, with her like, sweet basil rare for smell,
With many a flower, whose name were now too long to tell :
And rarely with the rest, the goodly fleur-de-lis.
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