¶ A new Ballad, entitled, The Battle of Agincourt, in France, between the Englishmen and Frenchmen.  
To the tune of, When flying Fame.  

 
A Counsel grave our King did hold,  
with many a Lord and Knight,  
That he might truly understand,  
that France did hold his right.   

Unto the King of France therefore,  
Imbassadors he sent,  
That he might truly understand,  
his mind, and whole intent:   

Desiring him in friendly sort,  
his lawful Right to yield:  
Or else, he swore by Dent of Sword,  
to win the fame in F●elde.   

The King of France with all his Lords,  
which heard his message plain,  
Unto our brave Ambassador,  
did answer in disdain:   

And said, our King was yet too young,  
and of too tender age,  
Therefore we weigh not of his wars,  
nor fear not hi● courage.   

His knowledge is, in feats of Arms,  
as yet, but very small:  
His tender joints more fitter were,  
to toss a Tennis ball.   

A Tun of Tennis balls therefore,  
in pride and great disdain,  
He sent unto our noble King,  
to recompense his pain.   

Which answer, when our King did hear.  
he waxed wrath in heart,  
He said, he would such, balls provide,  
should make all France to smart.   

And army than our King did hold,  
which was both good and strong.  
And from Southampton is our King,  
with all his Navy gone.   

In France he landed safe and sound,  
with all his warlike train,  
Unto the town of Hurslew next,  
he marched up amain.   

But when he had besieged the same,  
against their fenced walls,  
To batter down their stately Towers,  
he sent his English balls.   

This done, our Noble King,  
marched up and down the land.  
And not a French man for his life,  
durst once his Force withstand.    

¶ The second part, Of the battle at Agincourt.  
To the tune of, When Flying Fame.  

Until he came to Again Court,  
where as it was his chance,  
To find the King in readiness,  
with all his power of France.   

A mighty Host he had prepared,  
of armed Soldiers then:  
Which was no less, by just account,  
than forty thousand men.   

Which sight did much amaze our King:  
for he in all his Host,  
Not passing fifteen thousand had,  
accounted with the most.   

The king of France which well did know,  
the number of our men,  
In vaunting pride unto our Prince,  
did send a Harrold then,   

To understand what he would give,  
for Ransom of his life,  
When they in Field had taken him,  
amidst that bloody strife.   

But then our King with cheerful heart,  
this answer them did make,  
And said, before this comes to pass,  
some of your hearts shall shake.   

And to your proud presumptuous Prince,  
declare this thing (quoth he)  
Mine own heart blood shall pay the price,  
none else he gets of me.   

With that bespoke the Duke of York,  
O Noble King, quoth he,  
The leading of this Battle brave,  
vouchsafe to give it me.   

Godamarcie Cousin York, quoth he,  
I grant thee thy request,  
Then march thou on courageously,  
and We will lead the rest.   

Then come the bragging French men down,  
with their cruel force and might:  
With whom our Noble King begun,  
a hard and cruel fight.   

The Archers they discharged their shafts,  
so thick as hail from Sky,  
That many a Frenchman in the Field  
that happy day did die.   

The Horsemen tumbled on the Stakes,  
and so their lives they lost:  
And many a French man there was taken,  
for prisoners to their cost.   

Ten thousand men that day was slain,  
of Enemies in the Field,  
And eke as many prisoners,  
that day was forced to yield.   

Thus had our King a happy day,  
and victory over France,  
And brought them quickly under foot,  
that late in pride did prance.   

The Lord preserve our Noble King,  
and grant to him likewise,  
The upper hand, and victory,  
of all his Enemies.   
FINIS.   

¶ Imprinted at London, for S. W.