So waited they vpon their Swords for food,
To feast vpon the English being kill’d,
Then little thinking that these came in deed
On their owne mangled Carkases to feed.
When soone the French preparing for the Field,
Their armed troops are setting in array,
Whose wondrous numbers they can hardly weeld,
The place too little wherevpon they lay,
They therefore to necessitie must yeeld,
And into Order put them as they may,