Chronicle history of Henry the fift, with his battell fought at Agin Court in France

The Chronicle History
foV^.Thou doft not wtfh more helpe from England*^
Coufen ?
War.Gods will my Liegc,would you and I alone^
Without more hclpc,might fight this battcll out®
Why well fai&That doth pleafe me better.
Then to wifli meone^You know your charge^,
God be with you all. .
Enter the Herattldfront the French^
Her.Once more I come to know of thee king
What thou wilt giue for ranfome?
Who hath fent thee now ?
Herjhe Conftable of Francea.
Kmg.X prethee bearc my former anfwerbacke^
Bid them atchicue me,and then fell my bones.
Good God,why (hould they mockc good fellowes thus }
The man that once did fell the Lyons skin v
While the beatt lined5was kild with hunting hint0
And many pfour bodies fiiall no doubt -
Finde graues.withinyourRealmeof France e
Though buried iayour dunghils,we (hall be famcdP,
For there thcSunne lliall greete thcm5
And draw vp their honors reaking vp to hcauen,
leauing their earthly parts tochoake yourclimcj
TheTmell whereof,Iball breeda plague in Francei
Marke theaabundant valour in our Englifh^
That being dcadjike to the bullets crafing*
BreakcsTfoorth into a fecond courfe ofmifchicfips ^
j^jljjng in rclaps of mortality .•
Bet me (peake proudly,’.
There’s not a peece of feather inourCampe, .
Good argument I hope wefhall not-flye.
And. time hath wornevsinto flpuendry.
But by the maflejOitr hearts are in the trim,
And my poore fouldkrs tell me,y et ere night i.
They’!
of Henry the fifi*
Thevl be in frefiicr robes,or they wilt pluckc
Theeayncw cloaths oreyour French fouldicrs cares,
And turne them out ol feruice.lf they do this^
Asifitpt«afcGodthcy^alI#, t . ,
Then (ball our ranfomefoone be leuicd 5,
Saue thou thy labour Herauld, , u „ ,,
Come thou no more for ranfome,gentle Herauld.,
They (hall haue nought 1 fwearc.but thefe my bones .*
Which if they haue,as I willleauevm them,
Will yeeld them little,tcll the Conftable.
UtrSft»U dditter fo.
TorkeMygracious Lord,vpon my knee I craue
The leading of the vaward.
Xm^.Take ft bratie Yorkf.
Come fouldiers let’s away, .
And as thou pleafeft God,difpofc the day.
Enter the fottre French Lords,
Cjebon.O diabcllo.
Ctf».Mordu mavie.
Orle.Owbat a day is this!
Bttr.O lour dei houte all is gone,all is loft.
Con.VVe are enow yet liuing in the field.
To fmother vp the Englifh,
Jfany order mightbe thought vpon.'
rBur»K plague of 6rder,once more to the nela.
And he that will hot follow Bnrhon now.
Let him go homeland with his cap in hand.
Like a bafe leno hold the chamber doore,
Why loft by a (laue no gentler then my dog,
His faireft daughter is contamuracke.
C<?».Dtforder that hath fpoild vs, right vs now.
Come we in heapes,wee’i offer vp our Hues
Vnto thefe Hnglifl^orelle die with fame.
E 3
Come