Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/149

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BOOK THE FOURTH
137
Even he the prophet almost terrifiéd,Endur'd but half to view him, for he knew 250Azarael, stern-brow'd Messenger of Fate,And his death-day was come. Guilt-petrifiedThe Monarch sat, nor could endure to faceHis bosom-probing frown. The mission'd MaidRead anxious his stern features and exclaim'd 255"I know thee Conrade!" Rising from her seat,She took his hand, for he stood motionless,Gazing on Agnes now with full-fix'd eye,Dreadful though calm: him from the Court she drew,And to the river's banks resisting not, 260Both sadly silent led; till at the lastAs from a dream awaking, Conrade look'dFull on the Maid, and falling on her neck,He wept."I know thee, Damsel!" he exclaim'd, "Dost thou remember that tempestuous night, 265When I, a weather-beaten traveller, soughtYour hospitable doors? ah me! I then

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