To this encounter had but beene a play.
Slaughter is now desected to the full,
Here from their backs their batter’d Armours fall,
Here a sleft shoulder, there a clouen scull,
There hang his eyes out beaten with a mall,
Vntill the edges of their Bills growe dull,
Vpon each other they so spend their gall,
Wilde showtes and clamors all the ayre doe fill,
The French cry [tue], and the English kill.
The Duke of Barre in this vaste spoyle by chance;