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.
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,