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 10 SHAKESPEARE

Warwick in blood did wade, Oxford the foe invade, And cruel slaughter made,

Still as they ran up; Suffolk his axe did ply, Beaumont and Willoughby Bare them right doughtily,

Ferrers and Fanhope.

Upon Saint Crispin's Day Fought was this noble fray, Which fame did not delay,

To England to carry. O, when shall Englishmen With such acts fill a pen, Or England breed again

Such a King Harry?

Draylon.

AFTER

Now we bear the king

Toward Calais : grant him there ; there seen, Heave him away upon your winged thoughts Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys, Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouthed

sea,

Which like a mighty whiffler 'fore the king Seems to prepare his way : so let him land, And solemnly see him set on to London. So swift a pace hath thought that even now

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