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Had wrought unwonted sternness. From the dome
They past in silence, when with hasty steps,
Sent by the assembled Chieftains, one they met
Seeking the mission'd virgin, as alarm’d,
The berald of ill tidings.

“ Holy Maid I" He cried, “they ask thy counsel. Burgundy " Comes in the cause of England, and his troops “ Scarce three leagues froin our walls, a fearful power “ Rest tented for the night.”

Say to the Chiefs,
At morn I will be with them,” she replied.
« Meantime their welfare well shall occupy
“ My nightly thoughts.”

So saying on she past
Thoughtful and silent. A brief while she mus'd,
Brief, but sufficing to impel the soul,
As with a strange and irresistible force,
To loftiest daring. “ Conrade !" she exclaim'd
" I pray thee meet me at the eastern gate

« With a swift steed prepared : for I must hence."

Her voice was calm ; nor Conrade thro' the gloom
Saw the faint flush that witness'd on her cheek
High thoughts conceived. She to her home repair'd
And with a light and unplumed * casquetel
She helm'd her head; hung from her neck + the shield
And forth she went.

* A lighter kind of helmet.

of The shield was often worn thus. “ Among the French. men there was a young lusty Esquire of Gascoigne, named William Marchant, who came out among the foremost into the field, well mounted, his shield about his neck, and his spear in his hand.”

Barnes. This is frequently alluded to in Romance. " Then the Knight of the burning sword stept forward, and lifting up

his as if he would strike Cynocephal on the top of his head, seized with his left hand on the shield, which he pulled to him with so much strength, that plucking it from his neck he brought him to the ground.”

Amadis de Greece.


Sometimes the shield was laced to the shoulder

Her Conrade by the wall Awaited. " May I Maiden seek unblamed " Whither this midnight journey? may I share “ The peril ?" cried the warrior. She rejoin'd, “ This Conrade, may not be. Alone I go. " That impulse of the soul that comes from God “ Hath summon'd me. Of this remain assured, " If ought of patriot enterprize required

The shield of the middle ages must not be confounded with that of the ancients. The Knight might easily bear his small shield around his neck ; but the Grecian warrior stood protecting his thighs and his legs, his breast also and his shoulders with the body of his broad shield. Μηρες τε κνημας τε κατω και στερνα και ωμες Ασπιδος ευρειης γαστρι καλυψαμενος. .

ΤΥΡΤΑΙΟΣ. . But the most convenient shields were used by

Ceux qu'on voit demeurer dans les iles Alandes,
Qui portent pour pavois, des escailles si grandes,
Que lors qu'il faut camper, le soldat qui s'en sert
En fait comme une hutte, et s'y wet à couvert.


~ Associate firmness, thou shouldst be the man,
“ Best-last-and only friend !"


she sprung

And left him. He beheld the warden close

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The gate, and listened to her courser's tramp,
Till soon upon his ear the far-off sound
Fell faintly, and was lost.

Swift o'er the vale
Sped the good courser ; eagerly the Maid
Gave the loose rein, and now her speed attain'd
The dark encampment. Thro' the sleeping ranks
Onward she past. The trampling of the steed
Or mingled with the soldier's busy dreams,
Or with vague terrors fill'd his startled sense,
Prompting the secret prayer.

So on she past
To where in loftier shade arose the tent
Of Burgundy: light leaping from her seat
She entered.

On the earth the chieftain slept,

His mantle scarft around him; armed all,
Save that his shield hung near him, and his helm,
And by his side in warrior readiness
The sheathed falchion lay. Profound he slept,
Nor heard the speeding courser's sounding hoof,
Nor entering footstep. “ Burgundy," she cried,
" What, Burgundy! awake!" He started up
And caught the gleam of arms, and to his sword
Reach'd the quick hand. But soon his upward glance
Thrild him, for full upon her face the lamp
Stream'd its deep glare, and in her solemn look
Was most unearthly meaning. Pale she was,
But in her eye a saintly lustre beaın'd,
And that most calm and holiest confidence

That guilt knows never. Burgundy, thou seest « THE MAID OF ORLEANS !”

As she spake, a voice Exclaim'd, “die sorceress l" and a knight rush'd in, Whose name by her illustrated yet lives, Franquet of Arras. With uplifted arm

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