Stanza 207

That slaughter seem'd to haue but stay'd for breath, To make the horrour to ensue the more: With hands besmear'd with blood, when meager Death Looketh more grisly then he did before: So that each body seem'd but as a sheath To put their swords in, to the Hilts in gore: As though that instant were the end of all, To fell the French, or by the French to fall.

[Stanza 208: A Simily of the apparance of the Battell.]

Looke how you see a field of standing Corne, When some strong winde in Summer haps to blowe, At the full height, and ready to be shorne, Rising in waues, how it doth come and goe Forward and backward, so the crowds are borne, Or as the Edie turneth in the flowe: And aboue all the Bills and Axes play, As doe the Attoms in the Sunny ray.