His memory in the records of the foe

Survives.

it is reported in an old English rithmical story attributed to one Robert of Glocester) that

- he seold his sone to her spousing avonge,

The Maid was ther agen, and withsaid it long.

The King of sought her suith ynou, so that atten ende
Mabile him answered, as gode Maide and hende,

Sir, heo sede, well ichot, that your hert ope me is,
More vor mine heritage than vor my sulve iwis.
So vair eritage as ich abbe, it were me grete shame,
Vor to abbe an louerd, bote he had an toname.

Sir Roberd le Fitz Haim my faders name was,

And that ne might nought be his that of his kunne nought nas.
Therefore, Sir, vor Godes love, ne let me no mon owe,
Bote he abbe an twoname war thoru he be iknowe.
Damoysale, quoth the King, thou seist well in this case,
Sir Roberd de Fitz Haim thy fader twoname was ;
And as udir twoname he shall abbe, gif me him may bise
Sir Roberd de Fitz Rey is name shall be.

Sire, quoth this Maid tho, that is a vaire name

As who seith all his life and of great fame,

Ae wat shold is sonne hote thanne and he that of him come,

So ne might hii hote, whereof nameth gone.

The King understood that the Maid ne sede no outrage,
And that Gloucestre was chief of ire heritage.

Damescile he sede tho, thi Louerd shall have a name

And now disheartened at his death

The vanquish'd English fly towards the gate,
Seeking the inner court, as yet in hope
Again to dare the siege, and with their friends
Find present refuge there. Mistaken men !
The vanquish'd have no friends! defeated thus,
Prest by pursuit, in vain with eager voice
They call their comrades in the suppliant tones
Of pity now, now in the indignant phrase

Vor him and vor his heirs vair without blame,
Vor Roberd Earle of Gloucestre is name shall be and his,
Vor he shall be Earle of Gloucestre and his heirs iwis.
Sire, quoth this Maid tho, well liketh me this
In this forme ichole that all my gode be his.
Thus was Earle of Gloucestre first imade there

Ae his Roberd of all thulke that long bivore were,

This was end leve hundred yeare, and in the ninth yeer right After that ure Louerd was in his moder a hight..

Seldens Titles of Honor.

* On entering the outer gate, the next part that presented itself was the outer ballium, or bailey, separated from the inner ballium by a strong embattled wall and towered gate.

Of fruitless anger; they indeed within
Fast from the ramparts on the victor troops

Hurl their keen javelins,-but the gate is barr'd-
The huge portcullis down!

Then terror seiz'd

Their hopeless hearts: some, furious in despair,
Turn on their foes; fear-palsied some await

The coming death; some drop the useless sword
And cry for mercy.

Then the Maid of Arc

Had pity on the vanquish'd; and she call'd
Aloud, and cried unto the host of France,

And bade them cease from slaughter. They obeyed

The delegated damsel. Some there were

Apart that communed murmuring, and of these

Graville address'd her.

"Mission'd Maid! our troops

"Are few in number; and to well secure

"These many prisoners such a force demands,

"As should we spare might shortly make us need

"The mercy we bestow; not mercy then,

"Rather to these our soldiers, cruelty.

"Justice to them, to France, and to our King,

"And that regard wise Nature has in each

66

'Implanted of self-safety, all demand

"Their deaths."

"Foul fall such evil policy!"

The indignant Maid exclaim'd. "I tell thee, Chief, "GOD is with us! but God shall hide his face

"From him who sheds one drop of human blood
"In calm cold-hearted wisdom; him who weighs
"The right and the expedient, and resolves,

"Just as the well-pois'd scale shall rise or fall.
"These men shall live-live to be happy Chief,
"And in the latest hour of life, shall bless

"Us who preserved. What is the Conqueror's name,

Compared to this when the death hour shall come?

"To think that we have from the murderous sword

"Rescued one man, and that his heart-pour'd prayers,

"Already with celestial eloquence,

"Plead for us to the All-just!"

Severe she spake,

Then turn'd to Conrade. "Thou from these our troops

"Appoint fit escort for the prisoners:

"I need not tell thee, Conrade, they are men,
Misguided men, led from their little homes,

"The victims of the mighty! thus subdued
"They are our foes no longer be they held
"In Orleans. From the war we may not spare
"Thy valour long."

She said: when Conrade cast

His eyes around, and mark'd amid the court From man to man where Francis rush'd along, Bidding them spare the vanquish'd. Him he hail'd. "The Maid hath bade me chuse a leader forth "To guard the captives; thou shalt be the man; "For thou wilt guard them with due diligence, "Yet not forgetting they are men, our foes. "No longer!"

Nor meantime the garrison

Ceas'd from the war; they, in the hour of need,