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There is no more to say, but east and west, In go the speares sadly in the rest, In goth the sharp spur into the side, There see men who can just and who can ride; There shiver shaftes upon shieldes thick, He feeleth through the heart-spone the prick; Up springen speares, twenty feet in height, Out go the swordes to the silver bright; The helms they to-hewn and to-shred; Out burst the blood with stern streames red.
The shieldes onely of some few I wil touch to make short worke. One bare for his impresse the eies of yong swallowes comming againe after they were pluckt out, with this mot, Et addit et addimit, your beautie both bereaues and restores my sight.
And that honour giue thei also to the fire, for the reuerence thei beare there vnto. From twentie, till fiuetie: thei folowe the warres. As for byeng and sellyng, or any kinde of Lawe prattle, thei vse not. Thei cary in their warres, a kind of shieldes facioned like a losenge, a quiure with shaftes, and a curtilace.
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