Moste fatall that battel did prove unto thee,
Thoughe thou wast not borne then, my prettye Bessee!
Along with the nobles that fell at that tyde,
His eldest son Henrye, who fought by his side,
Was fellde by a blowe he receiv'de in the fighte!
A blowe that depriv'de him for ever of sight.
Among the dead bodyes all lifelesse he laye,
Till evening drewe on of the following daye,
When by a yong ladye discover'd was hee—
And this was thy mother, my prettye Bessee!