A bit of motley heraldry

[alchymie]

No sign of rank, nor painted shield,
Duke William bore on Hastings field,
But in a hauberk plainly dight
He looked like any other knight;
While from his pointed helm projected
A nose-piece that his face protected,
Revealing only cheeks and eyes --
It made him hard to recognize.

So when the awful rumour spread,
"The Duke has fallen -- he is dead",
And through the Norman host there ran
Cold-footed fear from man to man,
William some difficulty found
In proving he was still around.

"I live!" he shouted; but his word
Above the tumult went unheard;
Wherefore, though arrows came apace,
He thrust the guard from off his face,
To cheer his men and daunt his foes
With sight of his portentous nose;
And all the Normans gave a roar:
"Here comes the Conk -- the Conqueror!"

Now, had he borne a scutcheon famed
That by its cognizance proclaimed
Him Duke of Normandy -- none other --
He'd been spared a lot of bother.
But in Ten Sixty-Six A.D.
They'd not yet thought of heraldry.