BOOK THE SEVENTH.
231
He strode, on her resolved to wreak his rage, 205
With her to end the war. Nor did not JOAN
Read his stern purpose. Lifting up her shield
Prepar'd she stood, and pois'd her sparkling spear.
The English Chief came on; on high he rais'd
His mace, and all his might into one blow 210
Collected. As the Maiden rear'd her shield,
Before her rush'd the man of lowly line,
And on his buckler caught the mighty stroke,
And at that instant thro' the warrior's neck
Thrust the keen lance. Prone fell the English Knight. 215
Fast from the deadly wound the blood gush'd forth.
Then thro' the host contagious terror ran,
Their Chieftain slain. And lo! where on the wall
Bulwark'd of late by Gladdisdale so well
The son of Orleans stood, and swayed around 220
His falchion, keeping thus at bay the foe,
Till on the battlements his comrades sprang,
And rais'd the shout of conquest. Then appall'd
The English fled; nor fled they unpursued,
With her to end the war. Nor did not JOAN
Read his stern purpose. Lifting up her shield
Prepar'd she stood, and pois'd her sparkling spear.
The English Chief came on; on high he rais'd
His mace, and all his might into one blow 210
Collected. As the Maiden rear'd her shield,
Before her rush'd the man of lowly line,
And on his buckler caught the mighty stroke,
And at that instant thro' the warrior's neck
Thrust the keen lance. Prone fell the English Knight. 215
Fast from the deadly wound the blood gush'd forth.
Then thro' the host contagious terror ran,
Their Chieftain slain. And lo! where on the wall
Bulwark'd of late by Gladdisdale so well
The son of Orleans stood, and swayed around 220
His falchion, keeping thus at bay the foe,
Till on the battlements his comrades sprang,
And rais'd the shout of conquest. Then appall'd
The English fled; nor fled they unpursued,
For
