“Thou princely leader of our English strength,
Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron
And hemm’d about with grim destruction:”
and at York’s inability, through “the vile traitor Somerset,” to render aid, Lucy laments (l. 47, p. 72),—
“Thus, while the vulture of sedition
Feeds in the bosoms of such great commanders,
Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror,