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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
To the end—since shames
There are, such shames 'tis shameful to record them.
By laws of war that Maid, her ransom paid,
Had walked in freedom. Traitors, that law well knowing
Flung soon around their prey the hunter's net.
Beauvais' false prelate from his see expelled
By popular suffrage for conspiracy
With Bedford—Bedford's creature since that day,
Devised that plot,—they tried the Maid for crimes
Unknown to courts of war—not civil treason
But sorcery, magic, and such spiritual sins
As meet their doom in spiritual courts alone.
In Rouen sat that court, Beauvais its head;
Beside him fifty doctors, casuists, lawyers,
With others. Cardinal Beaufort was of these,
That prince world-famous for his terrible end
Who saw the murdered Gloster's spectre near
And cried, ‘Comb down his hair! It stands upright,
Like limed twigs set to catch my winged soul!’
Then passed to judgment.
There are, such shames 'tis shameful to record them.
By laws of war that Maid, her ransom paid,
Had walked in freedom. Traitors, that law well knowing
Flung soon around their prey the hunter's net.
Beauvais' false prelate from his see expelled
By popular suffrage for conspiracy
With Bedford—Bedford's creature since that day,
Devised that plot,—they tried the Maid for crimes
Unknown to courts of war—not civil treason
But sorcery, magic, and such spiritual sins
As meet their doom in spiritual courts alone.
In Rouen sat that court, Beauvais its head;
Beside him fifty doctors, casuists, lawyers,
With others. Cardinal Beaufort was of these,
That prince world-famous for his terrible end
Who saw the murdered Gloster's spectre near
And cried, ‘Comb down his hair! It stands upright,
Like limed twigs set to catch my winged soul!’
Then passed to judgment.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |