Whose timelesse end, if time did serue thereto,
I should bewaile in lines of lasting woe.
117.
Many more sonnes of Mars his noble race,
In this daie’s fight great fame with perill wonne,
Yea many high exploits each breathing space,
By many a worthie wight were vndergone;
Mongst whom that deed with resolution done,
By valiant Williams, and the Belgian Skinke,
Downe to obliuion’s den shall neuer sinke.