How you awake the sleeping sword of war:
We charge you, in the name of Heaven, take heed:
Under this conjuration, speak, my lord.
Cant. (R.C.) Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,
That owe your lives, your faith, and services,
To this imperial throne.—There is no bar
To make against your highness’ claim to France
But this, which they produce from Pharamond,—
No woman shall succeed in Salique land:
Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze[10]