BOOK THE TENTH.
393
The famish'd troop come round: the affrighted mule
Snorts loud with terror: on his shuddering limbs
The big sweat starts; convulsive pant his sides; 445
Then on he rushes, wild in desperate speed.
Snorts loud with terror: on his shuddering limbs
The big sweat starts; convulsive pant his sides; 445
Then on he rushes, wild in desperate speed.
Him dealing death an English Knight beheld,
And spurr'd his steed to crush him: Conrade leap'd
Lightly aside, and thro' the Warrior's greeves
Fix'd a deep wound: nor longer could the foe, 450
Tortur'd with anguish, guide his mettled horse,
Or his rude plunge endure; headlong he fell,
And perish'd. In his castle-hall was hung
On high his father's shield, with many a dint
Graced on the blood-drenched plain of Azincour: 455
His deeds the son had heard; and when a boy,
Listening delighted to the old man's tale,
His little hand would lift the weighty spear
In warlike pastime: he had left behind
An infant offspring, and did fondly deem 460
He too in age the exploits of his youth
And spurr'd his steed to crush him: Conrade leap'd
Lightly aside, and thro' the Warrior's greeves
Fix'd a deep wound: nor longer could the foe, 450
Tortur'd with anguish, guide his mettled horse,
Or his rude plunge endure; headlong he fell,
And perish'd. In his castle-hall was hung
On high his father's shield, with many a dint
Graced on the blood-drenched plain of Azincour: 455
His deeds the son had heard; and when a boy,
Listening delighted to the old man's tale,
His little hand would lift the weighty spear
In warlike pastime: he had left behind
An infant offspring, and did fondly deem 460
He too in age the exploits of his youth
Should
