"My God," said she, "the blood of our people is running on the ground; why was I not awakened sooner?
Ah! it was ill done!.

.

.

My arms! My arms! my horse!" Leaving behind her esquire, who was not yet armed, she went down.

Her page was playing at the door: "Ah! naughty boy," said she, "not to come and tell me that the blood of France was being shed! Come! quick! my horse!" It was brought to her; she bade them hand down to her by the window her banner, which she had left behind, and, without any further waiting, she departed and went to the Burgundy gate, whence the noise seemed to come.