Oft downe on those, trod there to death that lay,
The valient Daulphin had discharg’d his debt,
Then whom no man had brauelier seru’d that day.
The Earle of Ewe, and wondrous hard beset:
Had left all hope of life to scape away:
Till noble Beamont and braue Suffolke came,
And as their prisoner seas’d him by his name.
Now the mayne Battaile of the French came on,
The Vanward vanquisht, quite the Field doth flye,
And other helpes besides this, haue they none: