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Was Conrade. Wheresoe'er his focman aimed
Backward the Frank recoiled. Urge not to death " This fruitless contest," cried he; “ live, oh Chief! ~ Are there not those in England who would feel
* L'écu des Chevaliers était ordinairement un bouclier de forme à peu près triangulaire, large par le haut pour couvrir le corps, et se terminant en pointe par le bas, afin d'être moins lourd. On les faisait de bois qu'on recouvrait avec du cuir bouilli, avec des nerfs ou autres matieres dures, mais jamais de fer ou d'acier. Seulement il était permis, pour les empêcher d'être coupés trop aisément par les cpées, d'y mettre un cercle d'or, d'argent, ou de fer, qui les entourât.
" Keen anguish at thy loss? a wife perchance “ Who trembles for thy safety, or a child Needing a Father's care !".
Then Talbot's heart Smote him. “ Warrior! he cried, “ if thou dost think “ That life is worth preserving, hie thee hence, “ And save thyself: I loath this useless talk.”
So saying, he addressed him to the fight,
Then with faint hand, Conrade unlaced his helm, and from his brow.
Wiping the cold dews, ominous of death,
« Alas! and is it you, My Lord?” he cried. “God pardon you your sins ! “ I have been forty years your officer, «. And time it is I should sarrender now. “ The ensigns of my office!" So he said, And paying thus his rite of sepulture, Threw o'er the slaughtered chief his blazoned * coat.
* This fact is mentioned in Andrews's History of England. I have merely versified the original expressions.
“ The herald of Talbot sought out his body among the slain. “ Alas my Lord! and is it you! I pray God pardon you all your misdoings. I have been your officer of arms forty years and more: it is time that I should surrender to you the ensigns of my office.” Thus saying, with the tears gushing from his eyes, he threw his coat of arms over the corpse, thus performing one of the ancient rites of sepulture."
Then Conrade thus bespake him: - Englishman,
The herald soon,
" I sent for thee, “ My friend !" with interrupted voice he cried, " That I might comfort this my dying hour “ With one good deed. A fair domain is mine; « Let Francis and his Isabel possess
That, mine inheritance." He paused awhile, Struggling for utterance; then with breathless speed, And pale as him he mourned for, Francis came, And hung in silence o'er the blameless man,
Even with a brother's sorrow: he pursued, " This JOAN will be thy care. I have at home " An aged mother-Francis, do thou soothe “ Her childless age. Nay, weep not for me thus :
Sweet to the wretched is the tomb's répose !"
So saying Conrade drew the javelin forth,
By this the Scouts,