"But that my country calls. When the winds roar, "Remember sometimes what a soldier suffers, "And think of Conrade." "Theodore replied, "Success go with thee! Something I have known "Of war, and of its dreadful ravages, "My soul was sick at such ferocity: "And I am well content to dwell in peace, "Albeit inglorious, thanking that good God "Who made me to be happy. "Did that God" Cried Conrade, "form thy heart for happiness, "When Desolation royally careers "Over thy wretched country? did that God "Form thee for peace when Slaughter is abroad, "When her brooks run with blood, and Rape, and Murder, "Stalk thro' her flaming towns? live thou in peace "Young man! my heart is human: I do feel "For what my brethren suffer." "As he spake, "Such mingled passions charactered his face "Then in mine heart tumultuous thoughts arose "But is there not some duty due to those "We love? said Theodore; and as he spake "His warm cheek crimson'd. "Is it not most right "To cheer the evening of declining age, "With filial tenderness repaying thus "Parental care?" "Hard is it," Conrade cried, Aye, very hard, to part from those we love; "And I have suffer'd that severest pang. "I have left an aged mother; I have left One, upon whom my heart has centered all "Its dearest, best, affections. Should I live "'Till France shall see the blessed hour of Peace, "I shall return: my heart will be content, My highest duties will be well discharg'd "And I may dare be happy. There are those "So saying from his belt he took "The encumbering sword. I held it, listening to him, "And wistless what I did, half from the sheath "Drew the well-temper'd blade. I gazed upon it "And shuddering, as I felt its edge, exclaim'd, "It is most horrible with the keen sword "To gore the finely-fibred human frame ! "I could not strike a lamb." "He answer'd me "Maiden thou hast said well. I could not strike "A lamb. But when the invader's savage fury Spares not grey age, and mocks the infant's shriek "As he does writhe upon his cursed lance, "And forces to his foul embrace, the wife "Even on her murder'd husband's gasping corse! 66 Almighty God! I should not be a man "If I did let one weak and pitiful feeling "Make mine arm impotent to cleave him down. "Think well of this, young Man !* he cried and seiz'd *Dreadful indeed must have been the miseries of the French from vulgar plunderers, when the manners of the highest classes were marked by hideous grossness and vices that may not be uttered. "Of acts so ill examples are not good." Sir William Alexander. The following portrait of some of these outrages I extract from the notes of Andrewses admirable History of Great Britain. "Agricola quilibet, sponsam juvenem acquisitus, ac in vicinia alicujus viri nobilis & præpotentis habitans, crudelissime vexabatur. Nempe nonnunquam in ejus domum "The hand of Theodore; "think well of this, "As you are human, as you hope to live "In peace, amid the dearest joys of home; "Think well of this! you have a tender mother, irruens iste optimas, magnâ comitante catervâ, pretium ingens redemptionis exigeret, ac si non protinus solveret colonus, istum miserum in magna arca protrudens, venustæ ac teneræ uxori suæ (super ipsam arcam prostrata) vim vir nobilis adferret; voce exclamans horrenda, "Audine Rustice! jamjam, super hanc arcam constupratur dilecta tua sponsa," atque peracto hoc scelere nefando relinqueretur (horresco referens) suffocatione expirans maritus, nisi magno pretio sponsa nuper vitiata liberationem ejus redimeret." J. DE PARIS. Let us add to this the detestable history of a great commander under Charles VII. of France, the bastard of Bourbon, who (after having committed the most execrable crimes during a series of years with impunity) was drowned in 1441 by the constable Richemont (a treacherous assassin, but a mirror of justice when compared to his noble contemporaries) on its being proved against him" Quod super ipsum maritum vi prostratum, uxori, frustra repugnanti, vim adtuleret." "Ensuite il avoit fait battre et decouper le mari, tant que c'etoit pitie a voir. MEM. DE RICHEMONT. |