One part we’ll kill, the second prisoners stay;
And for the third, we’ll leaue to runne away.
But for the Foe came hourely in so fast,
Lest they his Army should disordred take:
The King who wisely doth the worst forecast,
His speedy martch doth presently forsake,
Into such forme and his Battalion cast;
That doe their worst they should not eas’ly shake:
For that his scouts which forrag’d had the Coast,
Bad him at hand expect a puissant Host.