Their lives they did not sell for nought,
The Duke himself, own’d they were bought.
Those on the left stood still as stupid,
Some would advance, others back skipped:
Dreadful cannons on them did blatter,
Till at the last they’re forc’d to scatter.
The French Brigades, who puff’d so hie,
Into a bogue were fain to flee:
Great Stapleton their Brigadier,
In every spaul did quake for fear,