That the worst was worthe the ransoun
Of any king; the second a shield bright
Bare at his backe; the thred bare upright
A mighty spere, full sharpe ground and kene,
And every childe ware of leaves grene
A fresh chapelet upon his haires bright;
And clokes white of fine velvet they ware,
Their steeds trapped and raied right
Without difference as their lordes were,
And after hem on many a fresh corsere,