Here after foloweth ye batayll of Egyngecourte [and] the great sege of Rone by kynge Henry of Monmouthe the fyfthe of the name that wan Gascoyne and Gyenne and Normandye Battle of Agincourt. 1536 Approx. 18 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 7 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-04 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A09522 STC 198 ESTC S90056 99853161 99853161 18530

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A09522) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 18530) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 906:05) Here after foloweth ye batayll of Egyngecourte [and] the great sege of Rone by kynge Henry of Monmouthe the fyfthe of the name that wan Gascoyne and Gyenne and Normandye Battle of Agincourt. [12] p. In Foster lane in saynt Leonardes parysshe by me Ioh[a]n Skot, [Inpryntyd at Londo[n] : [1536?]] Caption title. In verse. Printer's name from colophon; publication date conjectured by STC. Signatures: A⁶. In this edition A2r line 2 ends: shalbe wonne. Reproduction of the original in the Bodleian Library.

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 eng Henry -- V, -- King of England, 1387-1422 -- Poetry. Agincourt (France), Battle of, 1415 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2009-12 Assigned for keying and markup 2009-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2010-02 Sampled and proofread 2010-02 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2010-04 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
¶ Here after foloweth ye batayll of Egyngecourte & the great ſege of Rone by kynge Henry of Moumouthe the fyfthe of the name that wan Gaſcoyne and Gyenne and Normandye. GOd that all this worlde dyde make And dyed for vs vpon a tree Saue england for mary thy mothers As yu art ſtedfaſt god in trynyte And ſaue kȳge Hēry ſoule I beſeche y• ſake That was full gracyouſe and good with all A courtyouſe knyght and kynge ryall Of Henry the fyfthe noble man of warre Thy dedes may neuer forgoten be Of knyghthod thou were the very lodeſtarre In thy tyme Englande floured in proſperyte Thou mortall myrrour of all cheualry Though thou be not ſet amonge ye worthyes nyne. yet waſt thou a conqueroure in thy tyme Our kynge ſende in to Fraunce full rathe His harraude that was good and ſure He deſyred his herytage for to haue That is Gaſcoyne and Gyen and Normandye He bad the Dolphyne delyuer / it ſhulde be his All that belongyd to the fyrſt Edwarde And yf he ſayd me nay I wys I wyll get it with dent of ſwerde But than anſwered the Dolphyne bolde By our inbaſſatours ſendynge agayne Me thynke that your kynge is not ſo olde Warres great for to mayntayne Grete well he ſayd your comely kynge That is bothe gentyll and ſmall A tun full of tenys balles I wyll hym ſend For to play hym therwithall Than bethought our lordes all In Fraunce they wolde no lenger abyde They toke theyr leue bothe greate & ſmall Tnd home to Englande gan they ryde To our kynge they tolde theyr tale to the ende What that the Dolphyne dyde to them ſaye I wyll hym thanke than ſayd the kynge By the grace of god yf I may Yet by his owne mynde this Dolphyne bolde To our kynge he ſent agaynne haſtely And prayed hym trewes for to holde For Ieſus loue that dyed on a tree Nay than ſayd our comely kynge For in to Fraunce wyll I wynde The Dolphyne angre I truſt I ſhall And ſuche a tenys ball I ſhall hym ſende That ſhall bere downe the hye rofe of his hall The kynge at weſtmynſter lay that tyme And all his lordes euerychone As they dyde ſet them downe to dyne Lordynges he ſayd by ſaynt Iohn̄ To Fraunce I thynke to take my waye Of good councell I you praye What is your wyll that I ſhall done Shewe me ſhortly without delay The duke of Clarence anſwered ſone And ſayd my lege I councell you ſoo And other lordes ſayd we thynke it for the beſt With you to be redy for to goo Whyle that our lyues may endure & leſt Gramercy ſyrs the kynge gan ſay Our ryght I truſt than ſhalbe wonne And I wyll quyte you yf I may Therfore I warne you bothe olde & yonge To make you redy without delay To Southampton to take your waye At ſaynt Peters tyde at Lammas For by the grace of god and yf I maye Ouer the ſalte ſee I thynke to paſſe Great ordynaūce of gunnes the kynge let make And ſhypte them at London all at ones Bowes and arowes in cheſtes were take Speres and bylles / with yeen gunſtones And armynge dagars made for the nones With ſwerdes & bucklers that were full ſure And harneys bryght that ſtrokes wolde endure The kynge to Southampton than dyde ryde With his lordes for no lenger wolde he dwell Fyftene. C. fayre ſhyppes there dyde hym abyde With goodly ſayles and to peaſtell Lordes of Fraunce our kynge they ſolde For a myllyant of golde as I harde ſay By Englande lytell pryſe they tolde Therfore theyr ſonge was welawaye Bytwene hampton and the yle of wyght Theſe goodly ſhyppes lay there at rode With maſt yardes a croſſe full ſemely of ſyght Ouer all the hauen ſprede a brode On euery paues acroſſe rede The waſtes decked with ſerpentynes ſtronge Saynt Georges ſtremers ſpred ouer hede With the armes of Englande hangynge all alonge Our kynge full haſtely to his ſhyppe yede And all other lordes of euery degree Euery ſhyp wayed his anker in dede With the tyde to haſt them to the ſee They hoyſed theyr ſayles ſayled a lofte A goodly fyght it was to ſee The wynde was good and blew but ſofte And fourth they wente in the name of the trynyte Theyr courſe they toke towarde Normandy And paſſed ouer in a daye and a nyght So in the ſeconde mornonge yerly Of that contrye they had a ſyght And euer they drew nere the coſte Of the day glad were they all And whan they were at the ſhore almoſt Euery ſhyp his anker let fall With theyr takyls they laūched many a longe bote And ouer hache threw them in to the ſtreame A thouſande ſhortly they ſawe a flote With men of armes that lyth dyde leme Our kynge landed at Cottaunſes wtout delay On our lady euenth aſſumpcyon And to Hartflete they toke the way And muſtered fayre before the towne Our kynge his banner there dyde ſplay With ſtanderdes bryght and many penowne And there he pyght his tente adowne Full well broydered with armory gaye Fyrſt our comely kynges tente with the crowne And all other lordes in good aray My brother Clarence the kynge dyde ſay The toures of the towne wyll I kepe With her doughters and her maydens gay To wake the frenchemen of theyr ſlepe London he ſayd ſhall with hym mete And my gunnes that lyeth fayre vpon the grene For they ſhall playe with Harfflete A game at tennys as I wene God we to game for goddes grace My chyldren be redy euerychone For euery great gunne that there was In his mouthe he had a ſtone The Capytayne of Herfflet ſoone anone Vnto our kynge he ſent haſtely To knowe what his wyll was to done For to cume thyther with ſuche a meny Delyuer me the towne the kynge ſayd Nay ſayd ye Capytayne by god & by ſaynt Denys Than ſhall I wynne it ſayd our kynge By the grace of god and of his goodnes Some hard tennys balles I haue hyther brought Of marble and yren made full rounde I ſwere by Ieſu that me dere bought They ſhall bete the walles to the grounde Than ſayd the greate gunne Holde felowes we go to game Thanked be Mary and Ieſu her ſone They dyde the frenchemen moche ſhame Fyftene afore ſayd London tho Her balles full fayre ſhe gan out throwe Thyrty ſayd ye ſeconde gun I wyll wyn & I may There as the wall was mooſt ſure They bare it downe without nay The kynges doughter ſayd herken this playe Harken maydens nowe this tyde Fyue and forty we haue / it is no nay They bete downe the walles on euery ſyde The Normandes ſayd let vs not abyde But gowe in haſte by one aſſent Where ſo euer the gunſtones do glyde Our houſes in Herfftete is all to rent The englyſ ſhemenourbul warkes haue brent And women cryed alas that euer they were borne The frenchemen ſayd now be we ſhent By vs now the towne is forlorne It is beſt now theyrfore That we beſeche this englyſ ſhe kynge of grace For to aſſayle vs no more Leſte he dyſtroye vs in this place Than wyll we byd the Dolphyne make hym redy Or elles this towne deryuered muſt be Meſſengers went fourth by and by And to out kynge come they The lorde Corgraunte certaynly For he was Capytayne of the place And Gelam Bowſec with hym dyde hye With other lordes more and laſſe And whan they to our kynge come were Full lowly ſet them on theyr kne • Hayle comely kynge gan they ſaye Cryſte ſaue the from aduerſyte Of truſe we wyll beſeche the Vntyll that it be ſunday noone And yf we may not recouered be We wyll delyuer the towne Than ſayd our kynge full ſoone I graunte you grace in this tyde One of you ſhall fourthe anone And the rēnaunt ſhall with me abyde Theyr Capytayne toke his nexte waye And to Rone faſte gan he ryde The Dolphyne he had thought there to founde But he was gone he durſte not abyde For helpe the Capytayne beſought that tede Herfflete is loſt for euer and aye The walles ben beten downe on euery ſyde That we no lenger kepe it may Of counſeyll all he dyde them pray What is your wyll that I may done We muſt ordeyne the kynge hatayll by ſonday Or elles delyuer hym the towne The lordes of Rone to gyther dyde rowne And bad the towne ſhulde openly yelde The kyng of englande fareth as a lyon We wyll not mete with hym in the felde The Capytayne wolde than no longer abyde And to warde Harfflete came he ryght For ſo faſte he dyde ryde That he was there the ſame nyght And whan he to oure kynge dyde come Lowly he ſet hym on his kne Hayle comely prynce than dyde he ſay The grace of god is with the Here haue I brought the keys all Of Harfflete that is ſo to yall a cytye All is yours bothe chambre and hall And at your veyll for to be Thanked he Ieſu ſayd our kynge And Mary his mother truely Myne vncle Dorſet without lettynge Capytayne of Herfflete ſhall he be And all that is within the cytye A whyle yet they ſhall abyde To amende the walles in euery degre That is beten downe on euery ſyde And after that they ſhall out ryde To other townes ouer all Wyfe nor chylde ſhall not there abyde But haue them forthe bothe great & ſmall One and twenty. M. men myght ſe whan they went out full fore dyde wepe The great gunnes & ordynaunce truely Was brought in to Herfflete Great ſykenes amonge our hoſte was in good fay Whiche kylled many of our englyſſhemen There dyed by yonde .vii. ſcore vpon a day Alyue there was lefte but thouſandes .x. Our kynge hym ſelfe in to the caſtell yede And reſted hym there as longe as his wyll was At the laſte he ſayd lordes ſo god me ſpede Towarde Calayes I thynke to paſſe After that Herfflete was gotten that royall cytye Through the grace of god omnypotente Our comely kynge made hym redy ſoone And towarde Calayes fourthe he wente My brother Gloceſtre veramente Here wyll we no lenger abyde And Coſyn of yorke this is oure entent With vs fourth ye ſhall this tyde My Coſyn Huntyngdon with vs ſhall ryde And the Erle of Oxenforde with you thre The duke of Southfolke by our ſyde He ſhall come fourthe with his meny And the Erle of Deuounſhyre ſykerly Syr thomas harpynge that neuer dyde fayle The lorde Broke that come hartely And ſyr Iohn̄ of cornewall Syr Gylberde Vmfrey that wolde vs auayle And the lorde clyfforde ſo god me ſpede Syr wyllyam Bouſer that wyll not fayle For all thy wyll helpe yf it be nede Our kynge rode fourth bleſſyd mought he be He ſpared neyther dale ne downe By waters greate faſt rode he Tyll he cam to the water of ſene The frenchemen threwe the brydge adowne That ouer the water they myght not paſſe Our kynge made hym redy than And to the towre of Turreyn wente more & laſſe The frenchemen our kynge abought becaſt With batayles ſtronge on euery ſyde The duke of Orlyaunce ſayd in haſte The kynge of Englande ſhall abyde Who gaue hym leue this waye to paſſe I truſt that I ſhall hym begyle Full longe or he come to Calays The duke of Burbone anſweryd fone And ſwere by god & by ſaynt Denys We wyll play them euerychone Theſe lordes of Englande at the tenys Theyr Gentylmen I ſwere by laynt Ihon̄ And archers we wyll ſell them greate plentye And ſo wyll we ryd them ſone Six for a peny of our monye Than anſwered the duke of Bare Wordes that were of greate pryde By god he ſayd I wyll not ſpare Ouer all the englyſſhemen for to ryde If that they dare vs abyde We wyll ouerthrowe them in fere And take them pryſoners in this tyde Than come home agayne to our dynere Henry our kynge that was ſo good. He prepared there full ryally Stakes he let hewe in a wood And ſet them before his archers verely The frenchemen our ordynaunce ganeſpye They that we ordeyned for to ryde Lyghted adowne with ſorowe truely So on theyr fote faſt gan abyde Our kynge wente vp vpon an hyll hye And loked downe to the valyes lowe He ſawe where the frenchemen came haſtely As thycke as euer dyde hayle or ſnowe Than kneled our kynge downe in that ſtounde And all his men on euery ſyde Euery man made acroſſe & kyſſed the grounde And on theyr fete faſt ganne abyde Our kynge ſayd ſyrs what tyme of the day My lege they ſayd it is nye pryme Than go we to our iourney By the grace of Ieſu it is good tyme For ſayntes that lye in theyr ſhryne To god for vs they be prayenge All the relygyouſe of Englande in this tyme Ora pro nobis for vs they ſynge Saynt George was ſene ouer our hoſte Of very trouthe this ſyght men dyde ſe Downe was he ſente by the holygoſte To gyue our kynge the vyctory Than blewe the trompetes merely Theſe two batayles to gyther yede Our archers ſtode vp full hartely And made the frenchemen faſt to blede Theyr arowes went faſt without ony let And many ſhot they through out Thorugh habergyne breſtplate & baſſenet A .xi. M. were ſlayne in that route Our gracyouſe kynge as I well knowe That day he fough with his owne hande He ſpared neyther hye ne lowe There was neuer kynge in no lande That euer dyd better on a daye Wherfore Englande may ſynge a ſonge Laus deo may we ſay And other prayers euer amonge The duke of Orlyaunce without nay That day was taken pryſonere The duke of Burbone alſo in fere And alſo the duke of Bare truely Syr Bergygaunte he gan hym yelde And other lordes of Fraunce many Lo thus out comely kynge conquered the fyld Be the grace of god omnypotent He toke his preſoners bothe olde & yonge And to warde Calayes fourth he went He ſhypped there with good entent To Cauntorbury full fayre he paſſed And offered to ſaynt Thomas thryne And through Keut he rode in haſte To Eltam he cam all in good tyme And ouer blackeheth as he was rydynge Of the Cytye of London he was ware Hayle ryall Cytye ſayd our kynge Cryſte kepe the euer from ſorowe & care And than he gaue that noble Cyte his bleſſyng • He prayed Ieſu it myght well fare To weſtmynſter dyde he ryde And the frenche pryſoners with hym alſo He raunſommed them in that tyde And agayne to theyr contrye he let them goo Thus of this matter I make an ende To theffecte of the batayll haue I gone For in this boke I cannot comprehende The greateſt batayll of all called ye ſege of Rome For that ſege laſted .iii. yere and more And there a rat was at .xl. pens. For in the Cytye the people hongered fore Women and chyldren for faute of mete were lore And ſome for payne bare bones were gnawynge That at her breſtes had .ii. chyldren ſoukynge Of the ſege of Rone it to wryte were pytye It is a thynge ſo lamentable Yet euery hye feeſt / our kynge of his charytye Gaue them meate to theyr bodyes comfortable And at the laſte / the towne wanne wout fable Thus of all as now I make an ende To the blyſſe of heuen god our ſoules ſende. ¶ Thus endeth ye batayll of Egyngcourt

Inpryntyd at Londō in Foſter lane in ſaynt Leonardes paryſ ſhe by me Iohn̄ Skot.

FINIS