and dexterously, and, pressing on at the right moment, strikes down, with a mortal blow, the champion of the League. Extended on the sand, he still vainly menaces Turenne. His sword escapes from his hand; his looks grow wild with the horror of defeat; he raises himself, looks towards Paris, and falls dead. Mayenne, looking on, sees in the event the prognostication of his own approaching overthrow. Soldiers bear, with slow steps, the body within the walls:—
Enters through crowds bewildered, stupefied;
All shrink at sight of that disfigured corpse,
Those brows all blood-stained, and that mouth agape,
That head low-hanging and with dust defiled,
Those eyes in which his horrors Death displays.
No cries are heard, no tears are seen to fall,
Compassion, shame, dejection, and despair
Stifle their sobs and render sorrow mute."
As the siege goes on famine seizes on the city, and this canto contains some horrible pictures of the extremities to which the unhappy people are reduced. Henry gives another signal proof of magnanimity by sending in supplies to his perishing enemies. But the people, led by the priests, still refuse to acknowledge him, and more of supernatural aid is necessary for his final victory. St Louis again appeals to heaven—Truth herself descends upon the tents of the king, and gives him clearer views. He perceives it to be his duty to profess the Catholic faith—thereupon the opposition of the League ceases, and he enters Paris amidst his now submissive subjects:—
Know their true father, conqueror, and king."
