Stanza 307

How happy were those in the very hight, Of this great Battaile, that had brauely dyde, When as their boyling bosomes in the fight, Felt not the sharpe steele thorough them to slide: But these now in a miserable plight, Must in cold blood this massacre abide, Caus'd by those Villaines (curst aliue and dead,) That from the field the passed morning fled.