He who had
made a good prize hurried him to the rear where his own servants
could guard him, while he who was disappointed too often drove the
dagger home and then rushed once more into the tangle in the hope
of better luck. Clermont, with an arrow through the sky-blue
Virgin on his surcoat, lay dead within ten paces of the hedge;
d'Andreghen was dragged by a penniless squire from under a horse
and became his prisoner. The Earl of Salzburg and of Nassau were
both found helpless on the ground and taken to the rear. Aylward
cast his thick arms round Count Otto von Langenbeck, and laid him,
helpless from a broken leg, behind his bush. Black Simon had made
prize of Bernard, Count of Ventadour, and hurried him through the
hedge. Everywhere there was rushing and shouting, brawling and
buffeting, while amidst it all a swarm of archers were seeking
their shafts, plucking them from the dead, and sometimes even from
the wounded. Then there was a sudden cry of warning. In a moment
every man was back in his place once more, and the line of the
hedge was clear.
It was high time; for already the first division of the French was
close upon them. If the charge of the horsemen had been terrible
from its rush and its fire, this steady advance of a huge phalanx
of armored footmen was even more fearsome to the spectator. They
moved very slowly, on account of the weight of their armor, but
their progress was the more regular and inexorable.
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