63 'Teach them to run the noble race
That I their father run;
Florence! should death thee take—adieu!—
Ye officers, lead on.'
64 Then Florence raved as any mad,
And did her tresses tear;—
'Oh, stay, my husband, lord, and life!'—
Sir Charles then dropped a tear;—
65 Till tired out with raving loud,
She fell upon the floor:
Sir Charles exerted all his might,
And marched from out the door.
66 Upon a sledge he mounted then,
With looks full brave and sweet;
Looks that did show no more concern
Than any in the street.
67 Before him went the council-men,
In scarlet robes and gold,
And tassels spangling in the sun,
Much glorious to behold:
68 The friars of St Augustine next
Appeared to the sight,
All clad in homely russet weeds
Of godly monkish plight:
69 In different parts a godly psalm
Most sweetly they did chaunt;
Behind their backs six minstrels came,
Who tuned the strong bataunt.
70 Then five-and-twenty archers came;
Each one the bow did bend,
From rescue of King Henry's friends
Sir Charles for to defend.
71 Bold as a lion came Sir Charles,
Drawn on a cloth-laid sled
By two black steeds, in trappings white,
With plumes upon their head.
72 Behind him five-and-twenty more
Of archers strong and stout,
With bended bow each one in hand,
Marched in goodly rout: