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“ Here with rude mockery and with insolence “Receiv'd. Bear witness, chieftains ! that the French, “ Free from blood-guiltiness, shall' meet the war."
“ And who art thou ?” cried Suffolk, and his eye Grew fierce and wrath-inflam’d: “What fool art thou, “ Who at this woman's bidding comest to brave “ The host of England? thou shalt have thy meed!" Then turning to the sentinel he cried, “ Prepare a stake! and let the men of Orleans, “ And let this woman who believes her name “ May privilege her apostle, see the fire “ Consume him. Build the stake! for by my God “ He shall be kalender'd of this new faith “ First martyr.”
As he spake, a sudden flush
Roused up with all its powers, and unsubdued, And glorying in endurance. Through the camp, Soon as the tidings spread, a shout arose, A hideous shout, more savage than the howl Of midnight wolves; and round the Frank they throng'd, To gaze upon their victim. He pass'd on; And as they led him to the appointed place Look'd round, as tho’ forgetful of himself, And cried aloud, -"Oh! woe it is to think “ So many men shall never see the sun “ Go down! ye English mothers, mourn ye now ! “ Daughters of England, weep! for hard of heart “ Still your mad leaders urge the impious war, “ And for their folly. and their wickedness, “ Your sons, your husbands, by the sword must fall. “ Long-suffering is the Lord, and slow to wrath, “ But heavy are his judgments !" is
iii. ' . . He who spake Was young and comely ; had his cheek been pale With dread, and had his eye look'd fearfully,
Sure he had won compassion ; but the blood
Even from themselves, some silently in prayer,
But the rage
And now they bound The herald to the stake: he cried aloud, And fix'd his eye on Suffolk,-“ Let not him “ Who girdeth on his harness boast himself “ As he that puts it off! they come! they come ! “ God and the Maid !"
The host of France approach’d, And Suffolk eagerly beheld the fire Draw near the pile; sudden a fearful shout Toward Orleans turn'd his eye, and thence he saw A mailed man upon a mailed steed Come thundering on.
As when Chederles comes
To aid the Moslem on his deathless steed,
..“ Haste thee hence .“ To Orleans,” cried the warrior. “Tell the chiefs
“ There is confusion in the English camp. - Bid them comeforth.” On Conrade's steed the youth Leapt up, and hasten’d onward. He the while Turn'd to the war.
Like two conflicting clouds, Pregnant with thunder, rush'd the hostile hosts.