Cast on the assailing host. A keener glance

Darts not the hawk when from the feather'd tribe

He marks his victim.

On a Frank he fix'd

His gaze, who kneeling by the * trebuchet,
Charged its long sling with death. Him Glacidas
Secure behind the battlements, beheld,

And strung his bow; then, bending on one knee,
He in the groove the feather'd † quarrel placed
And levelling with firm eye, the death-wound mark'd.
The bow-string twang'd, on its swift way the dart

From the trebuchet they discharged many stones at once by a sling. It acted by means of a great weight fastened to the short arm of a lever, which being let fall, raised the end of the long arm with a great velocity. A man is represented kneeling to load one of these in an ivory carving, supposed to be of the age of Edward II.

Grose.

+ Quarrels, or carreaux, were so called from their heads, which were square pyramids of iron.

Whizzed fierce, and struck, there where the helmet's clasps Defend the neck; a weak protection now,

For thro' the tube that the pure air inhales

Pierced the keen shaft; blood down the unwonted way
Gush'd to the lungs prone fell the dying man
Grasping, convuls'd, the earth: a hollow groan
In his throat struggled, and the dews of death
Stood on his livid cheek. The days of youth
He had pass'd peaceful, and had known what joys
Domestic love bestows, the father once

Of two fair infants; in the city hemm'd

During the hard siege; he had seen their cheeks
Grow pale with famine, and had heard their cries
For bread! his wife, a broken-hearted one
Sunk to the cold grave's quiet, and her babes
With hunger pined, and followed; he survived,
A miserable man, and heard the shouts

Of joy in Orleans, when the Maid approach'd
As o'er the corse of his last little one

He heap'd the unhallowed earth. To him the foe

Perform'd a friendly part, hastening the hour

Grief else had soon brought on.

The English Chief,

Pointing again his arbalist, let loose

The string; the quarrel, driven by that strong blow,

True to its aim, fled fatal: one it struck

Dragging a tortoise to the moat, and fix'd

Deep in his liver; blood and mingled gall

Flow'd from the wound; and writhing with keen pangs,

Headlong he fell; he for the wintry hour
Knew many a merry ballad and quaint tale,
A man in his small circle well-beloved.

None better knew with prudent hand to guide
The vine's young tendrils, or at vintage time
To press the full-swoln clusters; he, heart-glad,
Taught his young boys the little all he knew,
Enough for happiness. The English host

Laid waste his fertile fields: he, to the war,

By want compell'd, adventur'd, in his gore

Now weltering.

Nor the Gallic host remit

Their eager efforts; some, * the watery fence,

Beneath the tortoise roof'd, with engines apt

Drain painful; part, laden with wood, throw there Their buoyant burdens, labouring so to gain.

Firm footing some the mangonels supply,

Or charging with huge stones the murderous † sling,

Or petrary, or in the espringal

Fix the brass-winged

arrows.

Hoarse around

Rose the confused din of multitudes.

* The tortoises &c. and moveable towers having reached the walls, the besiegers under them either began to mine, or batter them with the ram. They also established batteries of balistas and mangonels on the counterscarp. These were opposed by those of the enemy.

The Matafunda.

The Espringal threw large darts called Muchetta, sometimes winged with brass instead of feathers. Procopius says that because feathers could not be put to the large darts dicharged from the balista, the ancients used pieces of wood six inches thick, which had the same effect.

Fearless along the ramparts Gargrave moved,
Cheering the English troops. The bow he bore
The quiver rattled as he moved along.

He knew aright to aim the feather'd shafts,
Well-skill'd to pierce the mottled roebuck's side,
O'ertaken in his flight. Him passing on,

From some huge *martinet, a ponderous stone

*Le lendemain vindrent deux maistres engingneurs au Duc de Normandie, qui dirent que, si on leur vouloit livrer boys et ouvriers, ilz feroient quatre eschauffaulx et haulx que on meneroit aux murs du chastel, et seroient si haulx q'lz surmonteroient les murs. Le Duc commanda qlz les feissent, et fist prendre tous les charpentiers du pays, et payer largement. Si furent faitz ces quatre eschauffaulx en quatre grosses nefz, mais on y mist longuement et cousterent grans deniers. Si y fist on les gens entrer q'a ceulx du chastel devoient combattre. Quant ilz eurent passe la moitie de la riviere, ceulx du chastel desclinquerent quatre martinetz qlz avoient faitz nouvellement pour remedier contre lesditz eschauffaulx. Ces quatre martinetz gettoient si grosses pierres et si souvent sur ces eschauffaulx qlz furent bien tost froissez tant que les gensdarmes et ceulx que les conduisoient ne se peurent dedans garantir. Si se retirerenf arriere le plus tost quilz peurent. Et ainçois qlz fussent oultre la riviere lung des eschauffaulx fut enfondre au fons de leaue.

Froissart. I. fueillet 82.