Saint George and conquest on our helmes doth shine.”
85.
This said, the dreadfull trumpet loudlie blowes,
To bring them forward to the furious fight,
Then did the bowmen bend their stift string’d bowes;
The souldiers buckled on their helmets bright;
The bilmen shooke their bils, and euerie wight
Did proue his fatall weapon on the ground,
Ready prepar’d his foemen to confound.
86.