Originally posted by TrueMacedonian
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Yea euen the simple forceats fought With beggers boltes anew, 710 Wherewith full manie principall men They wounded sore and slew: Whill time a Christian with a sworde, Lets out a faithlefle breath, A Turke on him doth with a darte, Reuenge his fellowes death, Whill time a Turk with arrow doth, Shoot through a Christians arme, A Christian with a Pike dooth pearce The hand that did the harme: 720 Whill time a Christian Cannon killes A Turke with threatning sound, A Hagbut hittes the Cannoner, Who dead, falles to the ground: The beggers boltes by forceates casten, On all hands made to flie, law-bones and braines of kild and hurt, Who wisht (for paine) to die: The clinkes of swords, the rattle of Pikes, The whirre of arrowes light, 730 The howles of hurt, the Captaines cryes In vaine do what they might, . The cracks of Gallies broken and bruzd, Of Gunns the rumbling beire Resounded so, that though the Lord Had thundered none could heare: The Sea was vernistied red with blood, And fishes poysond all, As Iehova by Moses rod In Aegipt made befall. 740 This cruell fight continued thus Vncertaine all the while, For. Fortune oft on either side, Did frowne and after smile, It seem'd that Mars and Pallas both 780 Did thinke the day too short With bloodie practise thus to vse Their olde acquainted sport: For as the slaughter ay increast, So did the courage still, Of Martiall men whome losse of friends Enarm'd with eigre will, The more their number did decrease The more that they were harmd, The more with Mars then were they fild 790 With boldning spite inarm'd: Now vp now downe on either side, Now Christians seemd to winne, Now ouerthrowne, and now againe, They seemd but to beginne. My pen for pitie cannot write, My haire for horrour stands, To thinke how many Christians there Were kild by Pagane hands. O Lord throughout this Labyrinth 800 Make me the way to vew, And let thy holy three-folde Spreit Be my conducting clew: Our landing is not farre: Lo good victorious tidings comes To end this cruell warre. In All the time that thus they fought, The Spanish Prince was dipt With Ali-basha, whome to meet 810 The rest he had oreslipt: And euen as throughout both the Hosts, Dame Fortune varied still, So kythde she twixt those Champions two, Her fond inconstant will: For after that the Cartels foure Of Galleis both, with sound, And slaughter huge, their Bullets had In other made rebound, 820 And all the small Artillerie Consumde their shots below In killing men, or els to cut Some Cable strong or Towe: Yet victorie still vncertaine was, And Soldats neuer ceast (With interchange of Pikes and Darts.) To kill, or wound at least. In end, when they with blood abroad Had bought their meeting deare, 830 The victorie first on Spanish side Began for to appeare: For euen the Spanish Prince himselfe Did hazard at the last, Accompanied with boldest men Who followd on him fast, By force to winne the Turkquish decke, The which he did obtaine, And entered in their Galley syne But did not long remaine: 840 For Ali-basha proou'd so well, With his assisters braue, That backward faster then they came Their valiant foes they draue, That glad they were to skape themselues, And leaue behind anew Of valiant fellowes carcases, Whom thus their enemies slew. The Generall boldned then with spite, And vernisht redde with shame, 850 Did rather chuse to leese his life Then tine his spreading fame: And so of new encouraged His Souldiers true and bolde, As now for eigrenesse they burne Who earst were waxed colde: And thus they entred in againe More fiercelie then before, Whose rude assault could Ali then Resist not anie more, But fled vnto the forte at Stevin For last refuge of all, Abiding in a doubtsome feare The chance he did befall. A Macedonian souldier then Great honour for to win, Before the rest in earnest hope To Basha bold did riny And with a Cutlace sharpe and syne Did whip mee off his head, Who lackt not his reward of him That did the Nauie lead: The Generall syne caus'd fixe the head Vpon his Galley Mast. At sight whereof, the faithlesse Host Were all so sore agast, That all amasst gaue backe at once, But yet were staid againe, And neuer one at all did scape, But taken were or slaine Ochiali except, with three times ten Great Galleis of his owne, And many of the Knights of Malt Whome he had ouerthrowne: But if that he with his conuoy Had mist a safe retreat, No newes had Selym but by brute heard euer of this defeat. When thus the victorie was obteind, And thankes were giuen to God, 890 Twelue thousand Christians counted were Releeu'd from Turquish rod. O Spanish Prince whome of a glance And suddainlie away The cruell fates gaue to the world Not suffering thee to stay. With this the still night sad and blacke, The earth ouer shadowed then, Who Morphevs brought with her and rest To steale on beasts and men. 900 Bvt all this time was Venice Towne Reuoluing what euent Might some of this prepared fight, With doubtsome mindes and bent: They long'd, and yet they durst not long To heare the newes of all, They hoped good, they feard the euill, And kest what might befall: At last the joyfull tidings came, Which such a gladnes bred, 910 That Matrons graue, and Maids modest, The Market place bespred: Anone with chearefull countenance They dresse them in a ring, And thus the formest did begin Syne all the rest to sing.
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