The portals, posts and thresholds downe are flung,
The gates and walles of stone so strongly made,
And doores fast barr’d with earth are leuell made,
And all high turrets and strong chambers shake
With th’hot inuading, which the souldiers make.
421.
The inward roomes are fill’d with wofull sounds,
And wailing noise of folke in wretched plight,
The buildings all with larums loud rebounds,
And women with yong infants in affright,