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BOOK THE TENTH.
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Rous'd such a tumult in the new-come troops,As fitted them for fear. The aged ChiefBeheld their drooping valor: his stern brow,Wrinkled with thought, bewray'd his inward doubts:Still he was firm, tho' all might fly, resolved 295That Talbot should retrieve his old renown,And period Life with Glory. Yet some hopeInspir'd the Veteran, as across the plainCasting his eye, he mark'd the embattled strengthOf thousands; Archers of unequall'd skill, 300Brigans, and Pikemen, from whose lifted pointsA fearful radiance flashed, and young Esquires,And high-born Warriors, bright in blazon'd arms.Nor few, nor fameless were the English Chiefs:In many a field victorious, he was there, 305The garter'd Fastolffe; Hungerford, and Scales,Men who had seen the hostile squadrons flyBefore the arms of England. Suffolk there,The haughty Chieftain tower'd; blest had he fallen,Ere yet a Courtly Minion he was mark'd 310

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