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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10778 ***
+
+THE PROSE MARMION
+
+A TALE OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER
+
+ADAPTED FROM
+
+SCOTT'S "MARMION"
+
+BY
+
+SARA D. JENKINS
+
+ITHACA, N.Y.
+
+_Author of the Prose "Lady of the Lake," etc._
+
+1903
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SIR WALTER SCOTT. (Bust.)]
+
+[Illustration: SIR WALTER SCOTT. (From painting by _Wm. Nicholson_.)]
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Sir Walter Scott, poet and novelist, was born in Edinburgh, Scotland,
+five years before the Declaration of Independence in America. Unlike
+most little Scotch boys, he was not sturdy and robust, and in his second
+year, a lameness appeared that never entirely left him. Being frail and
+delicate, he received the most tender care from parents and
+grandparents. Five consecutive years of his life, from the age of three
+to the age of eight, were spent on his grandfather's farm at Sandyknow.
+At the end of this period, he returned to Edinburgh greatly improved in
+health, and soon after, entered the high school, where he remained four
+years. A course at the university followed the high school, but Scott
+never gained distinction as a scholar. He loved romances, old plays,
+travels, and poetry too well, ever to become distinguished in
+philosophy, mathematics, or the dry study of dead languages.
+
+In his early years, he had formed a taste for ballad literature, which
+very significantly influenced, if it did not wholly determine, the
+character of his writings. The historical incidents upon which the
+ballads were founded, their traditional legends, affected him
+profoundly, and he wished to become at once a poet of chivalry, a writer
+of romance. His father, however, had other plans for his son, and the
+lad was made a lawyer's apprentice in the father's office. Continuing,
+as recreation, his reading, he gave six years to the study of law, being
+admitted to the bar when only twenty-one. For years, he cultivated
+literature as a relaxation from business.
+
+At the age of twenty-six he married, and about this time accepted the
+office of deputy sheriff of Selkirkshire, largely moved to do so by his
+unwillingness to rely upon his pen for support. Nine years later, 1806,
+through family influence he was appointed, at a good salary, to one of
+the chief clerkships in the Scottish court of sessions. The fulfillment
+of his long-cherished desire of abandoning his labors as an advocate, in
+order to devote himself to literature, was now at hand. He had already
+delighted the public by various early literary efforts, the most
+important being the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," parts of which
+had occupied him since childhood. This was followed by "Sir Tristrem"
+and the "Lay of the Last Minstrel." Scott was now enrolled among the
+poets of the day, and while never neglecting the duties of office, he
+entered upon his literary career with unflagging industry. "Marmion,"
+"The Lady of the Lake," "Don Roderick," and "Rokeby" reflected his
+romantic fervor.
+
+Lord Byron now had entered the field of letters, and Scott, conscious of
+the power of his rival, determined to seek fame in other than poetic
+paths. This determination produced "Waverly," whose success gave birth
+to Scott's desire to be numbered among the landed gentry of the country.
+Under the influence of this passion, the novels now associated with his
+name followed with startling rapidity, and their growth developed in the
+author an unwillingness to be known as a penman writing for fortune.
+Literary fame was less dear to him than the upbuilding of a family name.
+The novels went for a time fatherless, but the baronial mansion, still
+one of the most famous shrines of the curious, grew into the stately
+proportions of Abbotsford.
+
+In 1820. George IV. conferred upon Scott the baronetcy, dearer than all
+the plaudits of the public. But
+
+    "Giddy chance never bears,
+     That mortal bliss shall last for years,"
+
+and the failure of banker and of publisher disclosed that the landed
+baronet had been a silent partner in the house of his printer for a
+quarter of a century, for whose debts Scott was liable to the extent of
+one hundred thousand pounds and to his bankers for enough more to make
+the entire debt one hundred fifty thousand pounds. Unappalled by the
+loss, Scott refused all offers of release from his creditors, and began
+to pay the debt by means of his pen, determined to preserve Abbotsford
+to his children's children. At a dinner given in 1827, he threw off all
+disguise, and acknowledged the authorship of the Waverly novels.
+
+His great exertions brought on paralysis. A visit to Italy failed to
+improve his condition, and he returned to die on the banks of the Tweed,
+and to be laid at rest in Dreyburg Abbey. He had paid one hundred
+thousand pounds of the debt, and the publishers of his works had
+sufficient confidence in their sale to advance the remaining fifty
+thousand pounds, the estate thus being left free of encumbrance.
+
+Of his four children, two sons and two daughters, none left male issue.
+A grandchild, the wife of Robert Hope, was permitted by Parliament to
+assume the name of Scott, and her son Walter, at the age of twenty-one,
+was knighted by Queen Victoria.
+
+Edinburgh has erected to his memory a most graceful monument, and
+Westminster Abbey a memorial. Visitors, under certain limitations, are
+permitted to visit the mansion, to see the enchanted library, and the
+famous study, to stray about the grounds where the famous writer spent
+the happiest, as well as the saddest, years of his life.
+
+[Illustration: ABBOTSFORD.]
+
+
+
+
+THE PROSE MARMION.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+In all the border country that lies between England and Scotland, no
+castle stands more fair than Norham. Fast by its rock-ribbed walls flows
+the noble Tweed, and on its battled towers frown the hills of Cheviot.
+
+Day was dying, St. George's banner, broad and gay, hung in the evening
+breeze that scarce had power to wave it o'er the keep. Warriors on the
+turrets were moving across the sky like giants, their armor flashing
+back the gleam of the setting sun, when a horseman dashed forward,
+spurred on his proud steed, and blew his bugle before the dark archway
+of the castle. The warder, knowing well the horn he heard, hastened from
+the wall and warned the captain of the guard. At once was given the
+command, "Make the entrance free! Let every minstrel, every herald,
+every squire, prepare to receive Lord Marmion, who waits below!" The
+iron-studded gate was unbarred, the portcullis raised, the drawbridge
+dropped, and proudly across it, stepped a red roan charger, bearing the
+noble guest.
+
+Lord Marmion was a stalwart knight, whose visage told of many a battle.
+The scar on his brown cheek spoke of Bosworth Field, and the fire that
+burned in his eye showed a spirit still proud. The lines of care on his
+brow, and the threads of silver in his black curling hair, spoke less of
+age than of toil. The square-turned joints, the evident strength of body
+and limb, bespoke not a carpet-knight, but a grim champion. From head to
+foot, he was clad in mail of Milan steel. His helmet of embossed gold
+hung at the saddle-bow. A falcon hovered in the crest, and soared on the
+azure field of the noble lord's shield, above the motto, "Who checks at
+me, to death is dight!"
+
+The horse was as richly clad as its rider. The reins were embroidered in
+blue, and ribbons of the same color decked the arched neck and mane. The
+housings were of blue trapped with gold.
+
+Behind the leader, rode gallant squires of noble name. Though still a
+squire, each had well earned knighthood. Each could tame a war horse,
+draw a bow, wield a sword, dance in the hall, carve at the board, frame
+love ditties, and sing them to fair ladies.
+
+Next in the train, came four men-at-arms: two carried halbert, bill,
+axe, and lance; a third led the sumpter mules and the ambling palfrey,
+which served to bear Lord Marmion when he wished to relieve his battle
+steed; the most trusty of the four held on high the pennon, furled in
+its glossy blue streamers. Last were twenty yeomen, two and two, in blue
+jerkins, black hose, and wearing falcons embroidered on each breast. At
+their belts hung quivers, and in their hands were boar-spears, tough and
+strong. They knew the art of hunting by lake or in wood, could bend a
+six-foot bow, or, at the behest of their lord, send far the cloth-yard
+spear.
+
+To welcome Marmion, the Flower of English Chivalry, the soldiers of the
+guard of Norham stood in the castle yard, with reversed pike and spear.
+Minstrels and trumpeters were there, the welcome was prepared, and as
+the train entered, a clang sounded through turret and tower, such as the
+old castle had seldom heard.
+
+Trumpets flourished, the martial airs rang out as Marmion crossed the
+court, scattering angels among the ranks. Loud rose the cry:
+
+    "Welcome to Norham, Marmion!
+     Stout heart and open hand!
+     Thou flower of English land!"
+
+Two pursuivants stood at the entrance to the donjon, and hailed the
+guest as Lord of Fontenaye, of Lutterward, Scrivelbaye, of "Tamworth
+tower and town." To requite their courtesy, Marmion, as he alighted,
+hung about the neck of each a chain of twelve marks.
+
+"Largesse, largesse, knight of the crest of gold!" cried the heralds, in
+acknowledgment of the bounty received;
+
+    "'A blazon'd shield in battle won,
+       Ne'er guarded heart so bold.'"
+
+As they marshalled him to the castle hall, the guests stood aside, and
+again the trumpets flourished, and the heralds cried:
+
+    "'Room, lordlings, room for Lord Marmion,
+        With the crest and helm of gold!
+      Full well we know the trophies won
+        In the lists at Cottiswold:
+      There, vainly Ralph de Wilton strove
+        'Gainst Marmion's force to stand;
+      To him he lost his lady-love,
+        And to the King his land.
+      Ourselves beheld the listed field,
+        A sight both sad and fair;
+      We saw Lord Marmion pierce the shield,
+        And saw the saddle bare;
+      We saw the victor win the crest
+        He wears with worthy pride;
+      And on the gibbet-tree, reversed,
+        His foeman's scutcheon tied.
+      Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight!
+        Room, room, ye gentles gay,
+      For him who conquered in the right,
+        Marmion of Fontenaye!'"
+
+As the welcome died away, forth stepped Sir Hugh, lord of the castle. He
+led his visitor to the raised dais and placed him in the seat of honor,
+while a northern harper chanted a rude hymn. The ear of Marmion could
+scarcely brook the barbarous sound, yet much he praised, well knowing
+that,
+
+    "Lady's suit, and minstrel's strain,
+     By knight should ne'er be heard in vain."
+
+As the weird strains died away, the host pressed the English lord to
+bide long as a guest, promising rest for horse, and refreshment and
+pleasure for man, with many a joust, or feat at arms, for those who
+wished to learn northern ways.
+
+At this the brow of Marmion grew dark and stern. Sir Hugh marked the
+changed look, and pouring out a bowl of sparkling wine, said:
+
+    "'Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion:
+        But first I pray thee fair,
+      Where hast thou left that page of thine,
+        Whose beauty was so rare?
+      When last in Raby towers we met,
+        The boy I closely eyed,
+      And often marked his cheeks were wet
+        With tears he fain would hide.'"
+
+Lord Marmion ill concealed his rising anger, yet he made a calm reply.
+
+"The lad was too frail to endure the northern climate, and I have left
+him at Lindisfarne. May I ask, Lord Heron, why the lady of the castle
+disdains to grace the hall to-day? Is it because Marmion of Fontenaye is
+present?"
+
+The Knight replied:
+
+"Norham Castle is a grim, dull cage for a bird so beautiful as the lady
+of Heron, and with my consent she sits with the noble and fair Queen
+Margaret, the bride of royal James."
+
+"Ah!" replied the Heron's noble guest, "if this be so, I will gladly
+bear to her your tender messages. I am now, by the request of our good
+English King, on my way to the court of Scotland, to learn why James is
+gathering troops, why making warlike preparations, and, if it be
+possible, I am to persuade him to maintain the peace. From your great
+goodness, I make bold to ask for myself and for my train a trusty guide.
+I have not ridden in Scotland since James backed Richard, Duke of York,
+in his pretensions to the throne of England. Then, as you remember, I
+marched with Surrey's forces, and razed to the ground the tower of
+Aytoun."
+
+"For such need, my lord, trust old Norham gray. Here are guides who have
+spurred far on Scottish ground, who have tasted the ale of St. Bothan,
+driven off the beeves of Lauderdale, and fired homes that the inmates
+might have light by which to dress themselves."
+
+"In good sooth," replied Lord Marmion, "were I bent on war, a better
+guard I could not wish, but I go in form of peace, a friendly messenger
+to a foreign King. A plundering border spear might arouse suspicious
+fears, and the deadly feud, the thirst for blood, break out in unseemly
+broil. More fitting as guide, would be a friar, a pardoner, traveling
+priest, or strolling pilgrim."
+
+Sir Hugh musingly passed his hand over his brow, and then replied: "Fain
+would I find the guide you need, but, though a bishop built this castle,
+few holy brethren resort here. If the priest of Shoreswood were here, he
+could rein your wildest horse, but no spearsman in the hall will sooner
+strike or join in fray. Friar John of Tilmouth is the very man! He is a
+blithesome brother, a welcome guest in hall and hut. He knows each
+castle, town and tower in which the ale and wine are good. He now seldom
+leaves these walls, but, perchance, in your guard he will go."
+
+In the pause that followed, young Selby, nephew of the Earl of Norham,
+respectfully said, "Kind uncle, unhappy we, if harm came to Friar John.
+When time hangs heavy in the hall, and the snow lies deep at Christmas
+tide, when we can neither hunt nor joust, who will sing the carols, and
+sweep away the stake at bowls? Who will lead the games and gambols? Let
+Friar John in safety fill his chimney corner, roast hissing crabs, or
+empty the flagons. Last night, there came to Norham Castle a fitter
+guide for Lord Marmion."
+
+"Nephew," said Sir Hugh, "well hast thou spoke. Say on."
+
+"There came here, direct from Rome, one who hath visited the blessed
+tomb, and worshipped in each holy spot of Arabia and Palestine. He hath
+been on the hills where rested Noah's Ark; he hath walked by the Red
+Sea; in Sinai's Wilderness, he saw the mount where Moses received the
+law. He knows the passes of the North, and is on his way to distant
+shrines beyond the Forth. Little he eats, and drinks only of stream or
+lake. He is a fit guide for moor and fell."
+
+"Gramercy!" exclaimed Lord Marmion. "Loth would I be to take Friar John,
+if this Palmer will lead us as far as Holy-Rood. I'll pay him not in
+beads and cockle shells, but in 'angels' fair and good. I love such holy
+ramblers. They know how to charm each weary hill with song or romance.
+
+    "'Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest,
+     They bring to cheer the way.'"
+
+"Ah! sire," said young Selby, as he laid his finger on his lip in token
+of silence, "this man knows more than he has ever learned from holy
+lore. Last night, we listened at his cell, and strange things we heard.
+He muttered on till dawn. No conscience clear and void of evil intent
+remains so long awake to pray."
+
+"Let it pass," cried Marmion. "This man and he only shall guide me on my
+way, though he and the arch fiend were sworn friends. So, please you,
+gentle youth, call this Palmer to the castle hall."
+
+Little did Marmion dream that the Palmer was Ralph de Wilton, his
+deadliest foe, in disguise--Ralph de Wilton, his rival in love, whom
+Marmion had accused of treason, had caused to be sent into exile, and
+whom he supposed dead.
+
+A moment later the Palmer appeared, clad in a black mantle and cowl, and
+wearing on his shoulders the keys of St. Peter cut in cloth of red. His
+cap, bordered with scallop shells, fitted close to his head, and over
+all was drawn the cowl. His sandals were travel-worn. In his hands he
+bore a staff and palm branch, emblems of the pilgrim from the holy land.
+No lord or knight was there in the hall who had a more stately step,
+none who looked more proud. He waited not for salutation, but strode
+across the hall of state, and fronted Marmion, as peer meets peer.
+Beneath the cowl was a face so wan, so worn, a cheek so sunken, and an
+eye so wild, that the mother would not have known her child, much less
+Marmion, his rival.
+
+Danger, travel, want, and woe soon change the form. Deadly fear can
+outstrip time; toil quenches the fire of youth; and despair traces
+wrinkles deeper than old age.
+
+    "Happy whom none of these befall;
+     But this poor Palmer knew them all."
+
+Lord Marmion made known his request, and the Palmer took upon himself
+the task of guide, on condition that they set out without delay, saying:
+
+    "'But I have solemn vows to pay
+      And may not linger by the way;
+      Saint Mary grant that cave or spring
+      May back to peace my bosom bring,
+      Or bid it throb no more!'"
+
+Then the page, on bended knee, presented to each guest in turn the
+massive silver bowl of wassail, "the midnight draught of sleep," rich
+with wine and spices. Lord Marmion drank, "Sound sleep to all"; the earl
+pledged his noble guest; all drained it merrily except the Palmer. He
+alone refused, although Selby urged him most courteously. The feast was
+over, the sound of minstrel hushed. Nought was heard in the castle but
+the slow footsteps of the guard.
+
+At dawn the chapel doors unclosed, and after a hasty mass from Friar
+John, a rich repast was served to knight and squire.
+
+    "Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse:
+     Then came the stirrup-cup in course;
+     Between the Baron and his host
+     No point of courtesy was lost;
+     Till, filing from the gate, had passed
+     That noble train, their Lord the last.
+     Then loudly rang the trumpet call;
+     Thundered the cannon from the wall,
+       And shook the Scottish shore;
+     Around the castle eddied slow,
+     Volumes of smoke as white as snow,
+       And hid its turrets hoar;
+     Till they rolled forth upon the air,
+    And met the river breezes there."
+
+[Illustration: THE LIBRARY, ABBOTSFORD.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+The breeze which swept away the rolling smoke from Norham, curled not
+the Tweed alone. Far upon Northumbrian waters, it blew fresh and strong,
+bearing on its wings a barque from the Abbey of Whitby on the coast of
+Yorkshire, sailing to St. Cuthbert's at Lindisfarne, on Holy Isle.
+
+    "The merry seamen laugh'd to see
+     Their gallant ship so lustily
+       Furrow the green sea-foam.
+     Much joy'd they in their honor'd freight;
+     For, on the deck, in chair of state,
+     The Abbess of Saint Hilda placed,
+     With five fair nuns, the galley graced.
+
+    "'T was sweet to see these holy maids,
+     Like birds escaped to green-wood shades,
+       Their first flight from the cage;
+     How timid, and how curious, too,
+     For all to them was strange and new,
+     And all the common sights they view,
+       Their wonderment engage."
+
+Light-hearted were they all, except the Abbess and the novice Clare.
+Fair, kind, and noble, the Abbess had early taken the veil. Her hopes,
+her fears, her joys, were bounded by the cloister walls; her highest
+ambition being to raise St. Hilda's fame. For this she gave her ample
+fortune--to build its bowers, to adorn its chapels with rare and quaint
+carvings, and to deck the relic shrine with ivory and costly gems. The
+poor and the pilgrim blessed her bounty and shelter.
+
+Her pale cheek and spare form were made more striking by the black
+Benedictine garb. Vigils and penitence had dimmed the luster of her
+eyes. Though proud of her religious sway and its severity, she loved her
+maidens and was loved by them in return.
+
+The purpose of the present voyage was most unhappy, and to the Abbess
+most painful. She came to Lindisfarne upon the summons of St. Cuthbert's
+Abbot, to hold with him and the Prioress of Tynemouth an inquisition on
+two apostates from the faith, if need were, to condemn them to death.
+
+On the galley's prow sat the unhappy sister Clare, young and beautiful,
+lovely and guileless, as yet a nun unprofessed. She had been betrothed
+to Ralph de Wilton, whom she supposed now dead, or worse, a dishonored
+fugitive. After the disgrace brought upon her lover, Clare had been
+commanded by her guardians to give her hand to Lord Marmion, who loved
+her for her lands alone. Heartbroken at the fate of her true-love, and
+to escape this hateful marriage, she was about to take the vestal vow,
+and in the gloom of St. Hilda hide her blasted hopes, her youth and
+beauty.
+
+As the vessel glided over the waters, she gazed into their depths,
+seeing only a sun-scorched desert, waste and bare, where no wave
+murmured, no breeze sighed. Again she saw a loved form on the burning
+sands: the dear dead, denied even the simplest rites of burial.
+
+Now the vessel skirted the coast of mountainous Northumberland. Towns,
+towers, and halls, successive rose before the delighted group of
+maidens. Tynemouth's Priory appeared, and as they passed, the fair nuns
+told their beads. At length the Holy Island was reached. The tide was at
+its flood. Twice each day, pilgrims dry-shod might find their way to the
+island; and twice each day the waves beat high between the island and
+the shore, effacing all marks of pilgrim's staff and sandalled foot.
+
+As the galley flew to the port, higher and higher, the castle and its
+battled towers rose to view, a huge, solemn, dark-red pile. In Saxon
+strength the massive arches broad and round, row on row, supported by
+short, ponderous columns, frowned upon the approaching visitor. It stood
+at the very water's edge, and had been built long before the birth of
+Gothic architecture. On its walls the tempestuous sea and heathen Dane
+alike had vainly poured their impious rage. For more than a thousand
+years, wind, wave, and warrior had been held at bay. The deep walls of
+the old abbey still stood worn but unsubdued.
+
+As they drew near, the maidens raised St. Hilda's song. Borne on the
+wind over the wave, their voices met a response of welcome in the chorus
+which arose upon the shore. Soon, bearing banner, cross, and relic,
+monks and nuns filed in order from the grim cloister down to the harbor,
+echoing back the hymn. Among her maidens, conspicuous in veil and hood,
+stood the Abbess, even then engaged in holy devotion.
+
+When the reception at harbor and hall was over, and the evening banquet
+ended, the vestal maidens and their visitors, secure from unhallowed
+eyes, roamed at will through each holy cloister, aisle, gallery, and
+dome. Though it was a summer night, the evening fell damp and chill, the
+sea breeze blowing cold, and the pure-minded girls closed around the
+blazing hearth, each in turn to paint the glory of her favorite saint.
+
+While, round the fire, legends were rehearsed by the happy group, a very
+different scene was taking place in a secret underground aisle, where a
+council of life and death was being held. The spot was more dark and
+lone than a dungeon cell. Light and air were excluded, as it was a
+burial place for those who, dying in sin, might not be laid within the
+Church. It was also a place of punishment, whence if a cry pierced the
+upper air, the hearer offered a prayer, thinking he heard the moaning of
+spirits in torment.
+
+Few save the Abbot knew the place, and fewer still, the devious way by
+which it was approached. When taken there, victims and judge were led
+blindfold. The walls were rude rocks, the pavement, gravestones sunken
+and worn. The noxious vapor, chilled into drops, fell tinkling on the
+floor. An antique lamp, hanging from an iron chain, gave a dim light,
+which strove with darkness and damp to show the horrors of the scene.
+Here the three judges were met to pronounce the sentence of doom.
+
+In the pale light sat the Abbess of St. Hilda. Closely she drew her veil
+to hide the teardrops of pity. Near her was the Prioress of Tynemouth,
+proud and haughty, yet white with awe. Next was the aged Abbot of St.
+Cuthbert, or, as he was called, the "Saint of Lindisfarne." Before them,
+under sentence, stood the guilty pair. One was a maiden who, disguised
+in the dress of a page, had been taken from Marmion's train. The cloak
+and hood could not conceal or mar her beauty. On the breast of her
+doublet was Lord Marmion's badge, a falcon crest, which she vainly
+attempted to conceal.
+
+At the command of the Prioress, the silken band that fastened the young
+girl's long, fair hair was undone, and down over her slender form fell
+the rich golden ringlets. Before them stood Constance de Beverley, a
+professed nun of Fontevraud. Lured by the love of Marmion, she had
+broken her vow, and fled from the convent. She now stood so beautiful,
+so calm, so pale, that but for the heaving breast and heavy breathing,
+she might have been a form of wax wrought to the very life.
+
+Her companion in misery was a sorry sight. This wretch, wearing frock
+and cowl, was not ashamed to moan, to shrink, to grovel on the floor, to
+crouch like a hound, while the accused frail girl waited her doom
+without a sound, without a tear.
+
+Well might she grow pale! In the dark wall were two niches narrow and
+high. In each was laid a slender meal of roots, bread, and water. Close
+to each cell, motionless, stood two haggard monks holding a blazing
+torch, and displaying the cement, stones, and implements with which the
+culprits were to be immured.
+
+Now the blind old Abbot rose to speak the doom of those to be enclosed
+in the new made tombs. Twice he stopped, as the woeful maiden, gathering
+her powers, tried to make audible the words which died in murmurs on her
+quivering lips. At length, by superhuman effort, she sent the blood,
+curdled at her heart, coursing through every vein. Light came to her
+eye, color to her cheek, and when the silence was broken, she gathered
+strength at every word. It was a strange sight to see resolution so high
+in a form so weak, so soft, so fair.
+
+"I speak," she said, "not to implore mercy, for full well I know it
+would be vain. Neither do I speak to gain your prayers, for a lingering,
+living death within these walls will be a penance fit to cleanse my soul
+of every sin. I speak not for myself, but for one whom I have wronged
+though he never did me wrong; one who, if living, is now an exile under
+the ban of the King. I speak to clear the fair name of Ralph de Wilton,
+and to accuse Lord Marmion of Fontenaye, the traitor, to whose false
+words of love I listened when I left my veil and convent dear.
+
+"Long, weary days, I bowed my pride, and humbled my honor, to ride as
+squire to this false knight, who daily promised me marriage. To be his
+slave, hoping to be his wife, I forfeited all peace on earth, all hope
+beyond the grave; but when he met the betrothed of Ralph de Wilton, the
+Lady Clare, when he learned of her vast wealth and broad lands, when he
+saw her face more fair than mine, he foreswore his faith. I, Constance,
+was beloved no more. It is an old story, often told.
+
+"The King approved the scheme of Marmion. Vainly de Wilton pleaded his
+right to the hand of Clare, and when all fair means were exhausted,
+Ralph was accused of treason. By my woman's unworthy hand, at the
+command of Marmion, was forged the papers which sealed de Wilton's fate.
+The two men fought in mortal combat.
+
+    "'Their prayers are prayed,
+      Their lances in the rest are laid.'
+
+"The result was told by the loud cry, 'Marmion! Marmion! De Wilton to
+the block!' Justice seemed dead, for he, ever loyal in love and in
+faith, was overthrown by the falsehearted. This packet will prove de
+Wilton innocent of treason, how innocent, these letters alone can tell,
+and I now give them to the sacred care of the Abbess of St. Hilda. Guard
+them with your life, till they rest in the hands of the King."
+
+She paused, gathered voice and strength and proceeded:
+
+"The Lady Clare hated the name of Marmion, mourned her dishonored lover,
+and fled to the convent of Whitby. The King, incensed at her action,
+declared she should be his favorite's bride even though she were a nun
+confessed. Marmion was sent to Scotland and I, cast off, determined to
+plan a sure escape for Clare and for myself. This false monk, whom you
+are about to condemn with me, promised to carry to Clare the drugs by
+means of which she would soon have been the bride of heaven. His
+cowardice has undone us both, and I now reveal the story of the crime,
+that none may wed with Marmion, that his perfidy may be made known to
+the King, who, when he reads these letters, will see his favorite
+deserves the headsman's axe. Now, men of death, do your worst. I can
+suffer and be still.
+
+    "'And come he slow, or come he fast,
+      It is but death who comes at last.'"
+
+The old Abbot raised his sightless eyes to heaven and said:
+
+    "'Sister, let thy sorrows cease;
+      Sinful brother, part in peace!'"
+
+Up from the direful place of doom, to the light of day and to the fresh
+air, passed those who had held this awful trial. Shrieks and groans
+followed the winding steps. The peasant who heard the unearthly cries
+bowed his head, the hermit told his beads, the brother crossed himself,
+even the stag on Cheviot hills bounded to his feet, listened and then
+trembling lay down to hide among the mountain ferns.
+
+[Illustration: THE STUDY, ABBOTSFORD.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+We now return to Lord Marmion, who, led by the Palmer, was hastening on
+to Holyrood. When the heights of Lammermoor were reached, noon had long
+passed, and at early nightfall, old Gifford's towers lay before them.
+Here they had expected hospitality, but the lord of the Castle had gone
+to Scotland's camp, where were gathered the noblest and bravest of her
+sons. No friendly summons called them to the hall, for in her lord's
+absence, the lady refused admittance alike to friend and foe.
+
+On through the hamlet rode the train until it drew rein at the inn. Now
+down from their seats sprang the horsemen. The courtyard rang with
+jingling spurs, horses were led to the stalls, and the bustling host
+gave double the orders that could be obeyed. The building was large, and
+though rudely built, its cheerful fire and savory food were most welcome
+to the weary men. Soon by the wide chimney's roaring blaze, and in the
+place of state, sat Marmion. He watched his followers as they mixed the
+brown ale, and enjoyed the bountiful repast. Oft the lordly warrior
+mingled in the mirth they made.
+
+    "For though, with men of high degree,
+     The proudest of the proud was he,
+     Yet, trained in camp, he knew the art
+     To win the soldier's hardy heart.
+     Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May,
+     With open hand and brow as free,
+     Lover of wine and minstrelsy."
+
+Directly opposite, resting on his staff, stood the Palmer, the thin,
+dark visage half seen, half hidden by his hood. Steadily he gazed on
+Marmion, who by frown and gesture gave evidence that he could ill bear
+so close a scrutiny.
+
+As squire and archer looked at the stern, dark face of the Pilgrim,
+their bursts of laughter grew less loud, less frequent, and gradually
+their mirth declined. They whispered one to another: "Sawest thou ever
+such a face? How pale his cheek! How bright his eye! His heart must be
+set only on his soul's salvation."
+
+To chase away the gloom gradually stealing over the company, and to draw
+from himself the sullen scowl of the Palmer, Marmion called upon his
+favorite squire:
+
+    "'Fitz-Eustace, knows't thou not some lay
+      To speed the lingering night away?'"
+
+The youth made an unhappy choice. He had a rich, mellow voice, and chose
+the wild, sad ballad often sung to Marmion by the unfortunate Constance
+de Beverley. When all was quiet, quiveringly the notes fell upon the
+air:
+
+SONG.
+
+    "Where shall the lover rest,
+       Whom the fates sever
+     From his true maiden's breast,
+       Parted forever?
+     Where early violets die
+       Under the willow.
+
+    "There through the summer day,
+       Cool streams are laving
+     There while the tempests sway,
+       Scarce are boughs waving;
+     There thy rest shalt thou take,
+     Never again to awake,
+       Never, O never!
+
+    "Where shall the traitor rove,
+       He, the deceiver,
+     Who could win maiden's love,
+       Win and then leave her?
+     In the lost battle,
+       Borne down by the flying,
+     Where mingles war's rattle
+       With groans of the dying.
+
+    "His warm blood the wolf shall lap,
+       Ere life be parted.
+     Shame and dishonor sit
+       By his grave ever;
+     Blessing shall hallow it--
+       Never, O never!"
+
+The melancholy sound ceased. The song was sad, and bitterly it fell on
+the false-hearted Marmion. Well he knew that at his request the faithful
+but misguided Constance had been taken to Lindisfarne to be punished for
+crime committed through her mistaken love for him. As if he already saw
+disgrace for himself and death for her, he drew his mantle before his
+face, and bent his head upon his hands. Constance de Beverley at that
+moment was dying in her cell.
+
+The meanest groom in all the train could scarce have wished to exchange
+places with the proud Marmion, could his thoughts have been known.
+Controlling himself, and raising his head, he said:
+
+"As you sang, it seemed that I heard a death knell rung in mine ear.
+What is the meaning of this weird sound?"
+
+Then for the first time the Palmer broke his silence, and said in reply:
+"It foretells the death of a loved friend."
+
+Utterance, for once, failed the haughty Marmion, whose pride heretofore
+could scarcely brook a word even from his King. His glance fell, his
+brow flushed, for something familiar in the tone or look of the speaker
+so struck the false heart that he was speechless.
+
+Before his troubled imagination rose a vision of the lovely Constance,
+beautiful and pure as when, trusting his treacherous words, she left the
+peaceful walls of her convent. He knew she was now a captive in convent
+cell, and the strange words of the Palmer, added to the song of the
+squire, had made him unhappy. "Alas!" he thought, "would that I had left
+her in purity to live, in holiness to die." Twice he was ready to order,
+"To horse," that he might fly to Lindisfarne and command that not one
+golden ringlet of her fair head be harmed, and twice he thought, "They
+dare not. I gave orders that she should be safe, though not at large."
+
+While thus love and repentance strove in the breast of the lord, the
+landlord began a weird tale, suggested by the speech of the Palmer. As
+Marmion listened, he gathered from the legend that not far from where
+they sat, a knight might learn of future weal or woe. He might,
+perchance, meet "in the charmed ring" his deadliest foe, in the form of
+a spectre, and with it engage in mortal combat. If victorious over this
+supernatural antagonist, the omen was victory in all future
+undertakings.
+
+    "Marmion longed to prove his chance;
+     In charmed ring to break a lance."
+
+The yeomen had drunk deep; the ale was strong, and at a sign from their
+master, all sought rest on the hostel floor before the now dying embers.
+For pillow, under each head, was quiver or targe. The flickering fire
+threw fitful shadows on the strange group. Marmion and his squires
+retired to other quarters. Where the Palmer had disappeared, none knew
+or cared.
+
+Alone, folded in his green mantle and nestling in the hay of a waste
+loft, lay Fitz-Eustace, the pale moonlight falling upon his youthful
+face and form. He was dreaming happy dreams of hawk and hound, of ring
+and glove, of lady's eyes, when suddenly he woke. A tall form, half in
+the moonbeams, half in the gloom, stood beside him; but before he could
+draw his dagger, he recognized the voice of Marmion, who said:
+
+"Fitz-Eustace, rise, and saddle Bevis! I cannot rest. The air must cool
+my brow. I fain would ride to view the elfin scene of chivalry of which
+we heard to-night. Rouse none from their slumbers, for I would not have
+those prating knaves know that I could credit so wild a tale as our
+landlord has told."
+
+Softly down the steps they stole. Eustace led forth the steed arrayed
+for the ride, and Marmion, armed to meet the elfin foe, sprang into the
+saddle. The young squire listened to the resounding hoof-beats as they
+grew more and more faint, and wondered as he fell asleep that one held
+to be so wary, so wise, so incredulous, should ride forth at midnight to
+meet a ghost in mail and plate.
+
+The moon was bright, and as Marmion reached the elfin camp, halting, he
+fearlessly blew his bugle. An answer came, so faint and hollow, that it
+might have been an echo; but suddenly he saw a distinct form appear, a
+mounted champion. The sight of the unexpected foe made to tremble with
+horror him who never had feared knight or noble. His hand so shook, he
+could scarce couch spear aright. The combat began; the two horsemen ran
+their course; and in the third attack Marmion's steed could not resist
+the unearthly shock--he fell, and the flower of England's chivalry
+rolled in the dust.
+
+High over the head of the fallen foe, the supposed spectre shook his
+sword. Full on his face fell the moonlight, a face never to be mistaken.
+It was the wraith of Ralph de Wilton, who had been sent by Marmion to
+exile and to death. Thrice over his victim did the grim, ghast spectre
+shake his blade, but when Marmion, white with terror, prayed for life,
+the seeming vision dashed his sword into its sheath, sprang lightly to
+his saddle, and vanished as he came. The moon sank from sight, and the
+poor, shivering, wretched English knight lay groveling on the plain.
+Could it be his mortal enemy had left the grave to strike down a living
+foe, and to stare in derisive hatred from a raised visor? Whether dead
+or alive, the elfin foe had little reason to spare the life of so
+dastardly an enemy!
+
+Sweetly sleeping, or patiently listening, Eustace waited for the return
+of his knight, waited till he heard a horse coming, spurred to its
+utmost speed. The rider hastily threw the rein to his squire, but spoke
+not a word. In the dim light the youth plainly saw that the armor and
+the falcon crest on his lord's helmet were covered with clay, that the
+knees and sides of the noble charger were in sad plight. It was evident
+the beast and his rider had been overthrown. To broken and brief rest
+Eustace returned and never did he more gladly welcome the light of day.
+
+    "Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark
+     The first notes of the morning lark."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+    "The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew,
+     And loudly Marmion's bugles blew,
+     And with their light and lively call,
+     Brought groom and yeoman to the stall."
+
+Light of heart they came, but soon their mood was changed. Complaint was
+heard on every side. One declared his armor had been used, another that
+his spear had been taken. Young Blount, Marmion's second squire, found
+his steed covered with foam, though the stable boy swore he had left the
+beautiful creature well groomed on the previous evening.
+
+While the impatient squire raged and fumed, old Hubert cried:
+
+"Ho, comrades, help! Bevis lies dying in his stall! To our lord this
+will bring sorrow indeed. Who will dare tell him of the horse he loved
+so well?"
+
+Fitz-Eustace, who knew of the midnight ride, of the condition of horse
+and rider on their return, offered to bear the unwelcome message.
+Marmion, sitting plunged in deep thought, received the tidings unmoved,
+gave little attention, passed the matter as if it were a mere accident
+and ordered the clarions sound "To horse."
+
+Young Blount was less easily dealt with. He declared he would pay no fee
+for food or care. Man or demon, he said, had ridden his steed all night
+and left him in sorry condition for the day's journey. Marmion gave the
+signal to set forth, and led by the calm, gloomy Palmer, they journeyed
+all the morning.
+
+Who can picture the thoughts of Palmer and of knight? Could one have
+looked beneath the Palmer's cowl there might have been seen a smile
+almost sardonic playing upon his features. In passing Blount's horse the
+pious man's thin brown hand stole from beneath the long gown and
+lovingly caressed the animal, while were muttered the words, "Noble,
+noble beast!"
+
+On rode the train through the lovely country, over the smooth
+greensward, and under the vaulted screen of branches.
+
+    "'A pleasant path,' Fitz-Eustace said,
+     'Such as where errant-knights might see
+     Adventures of high chivalry;
+     Might meet some damsel flying fast,
+     With hair unbound, and looks aghast;
+     And smooth and level course were here,
+     In her defence to break a spear."
+
+He spoke to cheer Lord Marmion's mind, but spoke in vain, for no reply
+was given.
+
+Suddenly distant trumpets were heard in prolonged notes over hill and
+dale. Each ready archer seized his bow, and Marmion ordered all to spur
+on to more open ground. Scarce a furlong had they ridden, when, from an
+opposite woodland, they saw approaching a gallant train.
+
+First on prancing steeds came the trumpeters,
+    "With scarlet mantle, azure vest;
+     Each at his trump a banner wore,
+     Which Scotland's royal scutcheon bore:
+     Heralds and pursuivants, by name
+     Bute, Islay, Marchmount, Rothsay, came,
+     In painted tabards, proudly showing
+     Gules argent, or, and azure glowing,
+       Attendant on a king-at-arms,
+     Whose hand the armorial truncheon held,
+     That feudal strife had often quelled,
+       When wildest its alarms."
+
+The king-at-arms was of grave, wise, and manly appearance, as became him
+who bore a king's welcome, but his expression was keen, sly, and
+penetrating.
+
+    "On milk-white palfrey forth he paced;
+     His cap of maintenance was graced
+       With the proud heron-plume.
+     From his steed's shoulder, loin, and breast,
+       Silk housings swept the ground,
+     With Scotland's arms, device, and crest,
+       Embroidered round and round.
+     The double treasure might you see,
+       First by Achaius borne,
+     The thistle and the fleur-de-lis,
+       And gallant unicorn.
+     So bright the King's amorial coat,
+     That scarce the dazzled eye could note.
+     In living colors, blazoned brave,
+     The Lion, which his title gave;
+     A train, which well beseemed his state,
+     But all unarmed, around him wait.
+       Sir David Lindesay of the Mount,
+       Lord Lion, King-at-arms!"
+
+Marmion sprang from his horse, and as soon as their mutual greetings had
+been made, Sir David delivered his message:
+
+"As King-at-arms, I have been sent by James's command to meet you, Lord
+Marmion, and to provide fit lodging, until the King himself shall find
+time to see the famed, the honored Lord of Fontenaye, the flower of
+English chivalry."
+
+Though angry at this reception, Marmion disguised his feelings. The
+Palmer, seeing his place as guide taken by the King's messenger, begged
+to be permitted to leave the service. But orders had been strictly given
+that no one following Marmion should be permitted to separate from the
+English band. They therefore set forth together and at length halted
+before a noble castle on the side of the valley of the Tyne. It was
+Crichtoun Hall, near the city of Edinburgh, and was a lodging meet for
+one of highest rank. Tower after tower rose to view, each built in a
+different age and each displaying a different style of architecture.
+
+    "A mighty mass that could oppose,
+     When deadliest hatred fired its foes."
+
+Through the gate rode the English ambassador, but met by none of the
+rank and file usual on such occasions. Only women, old men, and children
+occupied the castle. The sorrowing mistress of the hall gave welcome,
+and a stripling of twelve years offered his best service. Every man that
+could draw a sword had marched that morning to conquer or to die on
+Flodden Field. Long would the lady look in vain to see her husband and
+his gallant band return.
+
+Here Marmion and his men rested for two days, attended as became a
+King's guest, yet practically a prisoner. This was by the royal command.
+James did not choose that English eyes should look upon Scotland's
+gathering forces until they were ready to march against the foe. When
+Marmion was moody Lindesay's wit cheered; policies of war and of peace
+were discussed, and the lore of Rome and Greece was reviewed.
+
+The second night, as they walked by the fading light on the battlements
+of Crichtoun Castle, Lindesay carelessly remarked that the journey of
+Marmion, the toil of travel, might as well have been spared, for no
+power on earth or from heaven could dissuade James from war. A holy
+messenger sent by divine command had appeared in spirit, and vainly
+counselled the King against the impending conflict.
+
+More closely questioned, Sir David told the following tale:
+
+"When the King was but a lad, a thoughtless prince, traitors had set the
+boy in the army hostile to his royal father. The King, seeing his own
+banner displayed against him, and his son in the opposing faction, lost
+courage, fled from the field, and in fleeing fell and was slain. After
+the battle, James returned to Stirling Castle, seized with deep remorse.
+Ever after, he inflicted upon himself most severe penance.
+
+"While engaged one day in self-imposed penitential devotions, there
+appeared to him, in the chapel of Linlithgow, a vision. At the time,
+around him in their stalls, sat the Knights of the Thistle, chanters
+sung, and bells tolled. The monarch in sackcloth, and wearing the
+painful iron belt which constantly reminded him of his father's death,
+was kneeling in prayer, when there appeared the loved disciple, John,
+who in these words warned the King against warfare:
+
+    "'Sir King, to warn thee not to war--
+        Woe waits on thine array;
+      James Stuart, doubly warn'd, beware,
+        God keep thee as he may!'
+
+"When the King raised his head, the monitor had vanished.
+
+    "'The Marshal and myself had cast
+      To stop him as he outward pass'd;
+      But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast,
+        He vanish'd from our eyes,
+      Like sunbeam on the billow cast
+      That glances but, and dies.'"
+
+While telling the strange story, Sir David had not marked in the dim
+twilight the pallor that had overspread the countenance of Marmion, who,
+after a pause, said:
+
+"Three days ago, I had judged your tale a myth, but since crossing the
+Tweed, I have seen that which makes me credit the miracle you relate."
+
+He hesitated, and evidently wished his remark unmade, but pressed by the
+strong impulse that prompts man to reveal a secret to some listening
+ear, he told of the midnight ride and the tilt with the elfin knight at
+Gifford's Court. The same sly expression crept over the face of the
+King-at-arms as he asked, "Where lodged the Palmer on that fateful
+night?"
+
+Here their conversation was interrupted. By the King's command, each
+train on the following day was to proceed by its own way to Scotland's
+camp, near Edinburgh. Early they set out for the moor surrounding the
+city, where lay the Scotch hosts.
+
+From the crown of Blackford, Marmion gazed on the martial scene. It was
+a Kingdom's vast array. Thousands on thousands of pavilions, white as
+snow, dotted the upland, dale, and down, and checkered the heath between
+town and forest. The relics of the old oaks softened the glaring white
+with a background of restful green.
+
+From north, from south, from east, from west, had gathered Scotland's
+warriors. All between the ages of sixteen and sixty, from king to
+vassal, stood ready to fight for the beloved land. Marmion heard the
+mingled hum of myriads of voices float up the mountain side. He saw the
+shifting lines, and marked the flashing of shield and lance. Nor did he
+mark less that in the air,
+
+    "A thousand streamers flaunted fair,
+       Various in shape, device and hue,
+       Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue,
+     Broad, narrow, swallow-tailed, and square,
+     Scroll, pennon, pensil, bandrol, there
+       O'er the pavilions flew.
+     Highest and midmost, was descried
+     The royal banner floating wide;
+       The staff, a pine-tree, strong and straight,
+     Pitch'd deeply in a massive stone,
+       Yet bent beneath the standard's weight
+       Whene'er the western wind unroll'd,
+       With toil, the huge and cumbrous fold,
+     And gave to view the dazzling field,
+     Where, in proud Scotland's royal shield,
+       The ruddy lion ramped in gold.
+
+    "Lord Marmion view'd the landscape bright,--
+     He viewed it with a chief's delight,--
+       Until within him burn'd his heart,
+         As on the battle-day;
+       Such glance did falcon never dart,
+       When stooping on his prey.
+     'Oh! well, Lord Lion, hast thou said,
+     Thy King from warfare to dissuade
+       Were but a vain essay;
+     For, by St. George, were that host mine,
+     Nor power infernal, nor divine,
+     Should once to peace my soul incline,
+     Till I had dimmed their armor's shine
+       In glorious battle-fray!'"
+
+A bard near at hand replied:
+
+    "'Tis better to sit still, than rise, perchance to fall."
+
+From this scene of preparation for battle, their eyes wandered to the
+fairest scene of peace. The distant city glowed in gloomy splendor. The
+sun's morning beams tinged turret and tower. The wreaths of rising smoke
+turned to clouds of red and gold. Dusky grandeur clothed the height
+where the huge castle stood in state. Far to the north, ridge on ridge,
+rose the mountains, the rosy morning light bathing their sides in floods
+of sunshine, and turning each heather bell at their feet into an
+amethyst. Yonder could be seen the shores of Fife, nearer Preston Bay
+and Berwick. Between them rolled the broad Firth, islands floating on
+its bosom like emeralds on a chain of gold.
+
+    "Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent;
+     As if to give his rapture vent,
+     The spur he to his charger lent,
+       And raised his bridle hand,
+     And making demivolte in air,
+     Cried, 'Where's the coward that would not dare
+       To fight for such a land!'"
+
+While they gazed the time arrived for King James to take his way to a
+solemn mass. The distant bells chimed the hour, the fife, the sackbut,
+the psaltery, the cymbal, the war-pipe, in discordant cry took up the
+note, and together the sounds rolled up the hillside.
+
+Sir David sighed as he listened.
+
+"I look," he said, "upon this city, Empress of the North, her palaces,
+her castles, her stately halls, her holy towers, and think what war's
+mischance may bring. These silvery bells may toll the knell of our
+gallant King. We must not dream that conquest is sure or easily bought.
+God is ruler of the battlefield, but when yon host begins the combat,
+wives, mothers, and maids may weep, and priests prepare the death
+service, for when such a power is led out by such a King, not all will
+return."
+
+[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, DRYBURGH ABBEY.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Lindesay now bade the guard open the palisade that closed the tented
+field, and as into its ample bounds Marmion passed, the warders' men
+drew back. The Scottish warriors stared at the strangers, and envy arose
+at seeing them so well appointed. Such length of shaft, bows so mighty,
+had never been seen by northern eyes. Little did the Highlanders then
+think to feel these shafts through links of Scotch mail on Flodden
+Field.
+
+No less did Marmion and his men marvel that one small country could
+marshal forth such hosts. Men-at-arms were heavily sheathed in mail.
+They were like iron towers on Flemish steeds. Young squires and knights
+practiced their chargers on the plain to pass, to wheel, to curvet, that
+the swords of their riders might not descend amiss on foeman's casque.
+Hardy burghers were there, marching on foot. No waving plume, no crest
+they wore, but corselet, gorget, and brigantine, brightly burnished. The
+yeomen, too, were on foot, yet dressed in steel. Each at his back
+carried forty days' provisions. His arms were the halbert, axe, or
+spear, a crossbow, a dagger, or a sword. Each seemed almost sad at
+leaving the dear cottage, the simple pleasures and duties of home, to
+march into a foreign land. It was not cowardice, not terror, for the
+more they loved Scotland the more fiercely would they fight.
+
+Quite another class was the Borderer, bred to war. He joyed to hear the
+roar of battle. No harp, no lute, could please his ear as did the loud
+slogan. Nobles might fight for fame, vassals might follow, burghers
+might guard their townships, but to a battle the Borderer joyfully took
+his way as to a game, scarce caring who might win the day.
+
+Marmion next viewed the Celtic race. Each tribe had its own chief, its
+belted plaid, its warpipes varying with the clan. Their legs were bare;
+the undressed hide of the deer gave them buskins, a plaid covered the
+shoulders, and a broadsword, a dagger, a studded targe, completed the
+outfit.
+
+Through the Scottish camp, the English train had now passed, and the
+city gates were reached. The streets were alive with martial show. The
+Lion King led to lodgings that overlooked the town. Here Marmion, by the
+King's command, was to remain until the vesper hour and then to ride to
+Holy-Rood. Meanwhile Sir David ordered a banquet rich and rare.
+
+At the hour appointed, Marmion, attended by the Lion-Lord, arrived at
+the palace hall, at Holy-Rood. In this princely abode James was feasting
+the chiefs of Scotland. The historic halls rang with mirth, for well the
+monarch loved song and banquet. By day the tourney was held, at night
+the mazy dance was trod by quaint maskers. The scene of this night
+outshone all others. The dazzling lights hanging from the galleries,
+displayed the grace of lords and ladies of the court. The "motley fool"
+retailed his jest, the juggler performed his feat, the minstrel plied
+his harp, and the lady touched a softer string.
+
+All made room as through this throng the King came to greet his guest.
+And now, his courtesy to show,
+
+    "He doff'd to Marmion, bending low,
+       His broider'd cap and plume.
+     For royal was his garb and mien,
+       His cloak, of crimson velvet piled,
+       Trimm'd with the fur of martin wild;
+     His gorgeous collar hung adown,
+     Wrought with the badge of Scotland's crown,
+     The thistle brave, of old renown:
+     His trusty blade, Toledo right,
+     Descended from a baldric bright;
+     White were his buskins, on the heel,
+     His spurs inlaid of gold and steel:
+     His bonnet, all of crimson fair,
+     Was buttoned with a ruby rare:
+     And Marmion deemed he ne'er had seen
+     A prince of such a noble mien."
+
+His splendid form, his eagle eyes, his light footstep, his merry laugh
+and speaking glance made him envied of men and adored of women. He joyed
+to linger in banquet bower, but often in the midst of wildest glee, a
+shadow and an expression of pain flitted across the handsome face. His
+hands instinctively clasped as he felt the pain of the penance belt,
+worn in memory of his slain father. In a moment the pang was past, and
+forward, with redoubled zest, he rushed into the stream of revelry.
+
+Courtiers said that Lady Heron, wife of Sir Hugh of Norham, held sway
+over the heart of the King. To Scotland's court she had come to be a
+hostage, and to reconcile the offended King to her husband. The fair
+Queen of France also held the king in thrall. She had sent him a
+turquoise ring and a glove, and charged him as her knight in English
+fray, to break for her a lance. For love of the French Queen, as much as
+for the rights of Scotland, he clothed himself in mail and put his
+country's noblest, dearest, and best in arms, to die on Flodden Field.
+For Love of Lady Heron, he admitted English spies to his inmost
+counsels.
+
+    "And thus, for both, he madly planned
+     The ruin of himself and land."
+
+For these two artful women he sacrificed the true happiness of his home.
+
+    "Nor England's fair, nor France's Queen,
+     Were worth one pearl-drop bright and sheen,
+       From Margaret's eyes that fell,--
+     His own Queen Margaret, who, in Lithgow's bower
+     All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour."
+
+In gay Holy-Rood, Dame Heron, Lady of Norham, smiled at the King,
+glanced archly at the courtiers, and ably played the coquette. When
+asked to draw from the harp music to charm the ring of admirers, she
+laughed, blushed, and with pretty oaths, by yea and nay, declared she
+could not, would not, dare not! At length, however, she seated herself
+at Scotland's loved instrument, touched and tuned the strings, laid
+aside hood and wimple, the better to display her charms, and with a
+borrowed simplicity well assumed, sang a lively air, Lochinvar.
+
+    "Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
+     Through all the wild border his steed was the best;
+     And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had none,
+     He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone;
+     So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
+     There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
+
+    "He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone;
+     He swam the Esk river, where ford there was none;
+     But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
+     The bride had consented, the gallant came late;
+     For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
+     Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
+
+    "So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
+     Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
+     Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
+     For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,
+     'O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
+     Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?'
+
+    "'I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;
+     Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide--
+     And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
+     To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
+     There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
+     That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.'
+
+    "The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up,
+     He quaff'd off the wine, and threw down the cup,
+     She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
+     With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye,
+     He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,--
+     'Now tread we a measure!' said young Lochinvar.
+
+    "So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
+     That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
+     While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
+     And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
+     And the bride's-maidens whisper'd, ''Twere better by far
+     To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.'
+
+    "One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
+     When they reach'd the hall door, and the charger stood near;
+     So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
+     So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
+     'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
+     They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochinvar.
+
+    "There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
+     Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
+     There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
+     But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
+     So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
+     Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?"
+
+The monarch hung over the wily singer, and beat the measure as she sang.
+He pressed closer, and whispered praises in her ear. The courtiers broke
+in applause, the ladies whispered, and looked wise. The witching dame,
+not satisfied to win a King, threw her glances at Lord Marmion. The
+glances were significant, familiar, and told of confidences long and old
+between the English lord and his countrywoman, guests of a Scotch King,
+on the eve of a great conflict between the two countries.
+
+The King saw their meeting eyes, saw himself treated almost with
+disdain, and darkest anger shook his frame, for sovereigns illy bear
+rivals in word, or smile, or look. He drew forth the parchment on which
+was written Marmion's commission, and strode to the side of brave
+Douglas, the sixth who had worn the coronet of Angus. The King stood
+side by side with this brave Scotsman, who had been madly watching the
+pageant, the fire flashing from his stern eye. This very day he had
+besought his King to withdraw from the coming war, only to call forth
+the reproaches of his ungrateful ruler. Yet at this moment, James felt a
+pride in standing by the side of Bothwell's Lord, and placing in his
+custody Marmion, the flower of English chivalry.
+
+    "The Douglas' form, like ruin'd tower,
+     Seem'd o'er the gaudy scene to lower:
+     His locks and beard in silver grew;
+     His eyebrows kept their sable hue.
+     Near Douglas, where the monarch stood,
+     His bitter speech he thus pursued:
+     'Lord Marmion, since these letters say
+     That in the North you needs must stay
+       While slightest hopes of peace remain,
+     Uncourteous speech it were, and stern,
+     To say--Return to Lindisfarne--
+     Then rest you in Tantallon Hold;
+     Your host shall be the Douglas bold,
+     A chief unlike his sires of old.
+     He wears their motto on his blade,
+     Their blazon o'er his towers display'd;
+     Yet loves his sovereign to oppose,
+     More than to face his country's foes.
+       And, I bethink me, by St. Stephen,
+     But e'en this morn to me was given
+     A prize, the first fruits of the war,
+     Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar,
+       A bevy of the maids of Heaven.
+     Under your guard these holy maids
+     Shall safe return to cloister shades.'"
+
+The proud heart of Douglas felt the keen thrust. It was true, he would
+not, even for the King he devotedly loved, draw sword in an unholy
+cause. As a burning tear stole down his scarred cheek, he turned aside
+to conceal what might seem weakness. This sight the king could not bear,
+and seizing the hand of Angus, exclaimed:
+
+    "'Now, by the Bruce's soul,
+      Angus, my hasty speech forgive!
+        I well may say of you,--
+      That never king did subject hold,
+      In speech more free, in war more bold,
+      More tender and more true:
+      Forgive me, Douglas, once again!'"
+
+While monarch and man embraced, while the aged noble's tears fell like
+rain, Marmion seized the moment to restore himself to favor with both,
+and whispered half aloud to the King:
+
+    "'Oh! let such tears unwonted plead
+      For respite short from dubious deed!
+      A child will weep a bramble's smart,
+      A maid to see her sparrow part,
+      A stripling for a woman's heart:
+      But woe awaits a country when
+      She sees the tears of bearded men.
+      Then, oh! what omen, dark and high,
+      When Douglas wets his manly eye!'"
+
+That a stranger should see his changing moods, and above all, should
+presume to tamper therewith, aroused in James the fierce spirit of
+revenge. Said the fiery monarch:
+
+    "'Laugh those that can, weep those that may,
+      Southward I march by break of day;
+      And if within Tantallon strong
+      The good Lord Marmion tarries long,
+      Perchance our meeting next may fall
+      At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.'"
+
+Marmion felt the taunt, and answered gravely: "My humble home would be
+much honored if King James should visit its halls, but Nottingham has as
+true archers as e'er drew bow, and Yorkshire men are stern and brave.
+
+    "'And many a banner will be torn,
+      And many a knight to earth be borne,
+      And many a sheaf of arrows spent,
+      Ere Scotland's King shall cross the Trent.'"
+
+Scornfully the Monarch turned away, and commanded the gayeties to
+proceed. He flung aside cloak and sword, and gallantly led Dame Heron in
+the dance, as the minstrels, at the King's command, struck up "Blue
+Bonnets o'er the Border."
+
+[Illustration: SCOTT'S MONUMENT, EDINBURGH.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+Now we leave the royal revels, and return to Saint Hilda and her maids.
+As they sailed back to Whitby, their galley was captured on the high
+seas by the Scotch, and the ladies were held at Edinburgh until James
+should decide their fate.
+
+Soon, however, they were informed that they must prepare to journey to
+England, under the escort of Lord Marmion. At this, terror seized the
+heart of the Abbess and of Clara. The aged, saintly lady knew the fate
+of Constance, and for this, feared Lord Marmion's wrath. She told her
+beads, she implored heaven!
+
+The Lady Clara knew the sword that hung from Marmion's belt had drawn
+the blood of her lover, Ralph De Wilton! Unwittingly the King had given
+these defenceless women into the care of the man they most dreaded. To
+protest was hopeless. In the bustle of war, who would listen to the tale
+of a woman and a nun?
+
+The maids and the Abbess were assigned lodgings joining those of
+Marmion, their guardian. While there, the unhappy, but alert, holy woman
+caught sight of the Palmer. His dress made her feel that she would here
+find a friend. Secretly she conveyed to him a message, saying she had a
+secret to reveal immediately concerning the welfare of the church, and
+of a sinner's soul.
+
+With great secrecy she named as a meeting place, an open balcony, that
+hung high above the street.
+
+Night fell; the moon rose high among the clouds; the busy hum of the
+city ceased; the din of war and warriors' roar was hushed. The music of
+the cricket, the whirr of the owlets, might easily have been heard, when
+the holy Dame and the Palmer met. The Abbess had chosen a solemn hour,
+to disclose a solemn secret.
+
+"O holy Palmer!" she began,--"for surely he must be holy whose feet have
+trod the ground made sacred by a Redeemer's tomb,--I come here in this
+dread hour, for the dear sake of our Holy Church. Yet I must first
+speak, in explanation of a worldly love." Here was related by unwilling
+lips, the story of Constance's fall, of De Wilton's death or exile after
+being proved a traitor, of Lady Clara's faithfulness to the memory of De
+Wilton, and of her desire to enter the convent of the Abbess.
+
+    "'A purer heart, a lovelier maid,
+      Ne'er shelter'd her in Whitby's shade.'
+
+"Yet, King Henry declares she shall be torn from us, and given to this
+false Lord Marmion. I am helpless, a prisoner, with these innocent
+maidens, and I fear we have been betrayed by Henry, that Clara may fall
+into the hands of his favorite. I claim thine aid.
+
+    "'By every step that thou hast trod
+      To holy shrine and grotto dim,
+      By every saint and seraphim,
+        And by the Church of God!
+      For mark: When Wilton was betrayed,'
+
+"it was by means of forged letters,--letters written by Constance de
+Beverley, at the command of Marmion, and placed, by De Wilton's squire,
+where they could be used against that noble knight.
+
+"I have in my possession letters proving all this and more. I must not
+keep them. Who knows what may happen to me on my homeward journey? I now
+give this packet to thy care, O saintly Palmer! Bring them safe to the
+hands of Wolsey, that he may give them to the King, and for this deed
+there will be prayers offered for thee while I live. Why! What ailest
+thou? Speak!"
+
+As he took the packet, he was shaken by strong emotion, but before he
+could reply, the Abbess shrieked, "What is here? Look at yon City
+Cross!"
+
+    "Then on its battlements they saw
+     A vision, passing Nature's law."
+
+Figures seemed to rise and die, to advance and to flee, and from the
+midst of the spectre throng this awful summons came:--"Prince, prelate,
+potentate and peer, I summon one and all to answer at my tribunal."
+
+    "Then thunder'd forth a roll of names:
+     The first was thine, unhappy James!
+       Then all thy nobles came;
+     Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle,
+     Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle,
+     Why should I tell their separate style?
+       Each chief of birth and fame,
+     Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle,
+     Foredoomed to Flodden's carnage pile,
+       Was cited there by name;
+     And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye.
+
+    "Prone on her face the Abbess fell,
+     And fast, and fast, her beads did tell;
+     She mark'd not, at the scene aghast,
+     What time, or how, the Palmer pass'd."
+
+The following day, Marmion and the brave Douglas journeyed to fair
+Tantallon. The Palmer still was with the band, as Angus commanded that
+no one should roam at large. A wondrous change had come to the holy
+Palmer. He freely spoke of war; he looked so high, and rode so fast,
+that old Hubert said he never saw but one who could sit so proud, and
+rein so well.
+
+A half hour's march behind, came Fitz-Eustace, escorting the Abbess, the
+fair Lady Clare, and all the nuns.
+
+Marmion had sought no audience, fearing to increase Clara's hatred. He
+preferred to wait until she was removed from the convent and in her
+uncle's care. He hoped then, with the influence of her kinsman and her
+King, to gain her consent to be the Lady Marmion. He longed to command,
+
+    "O'er luckless Clara's ample land,"
+
+yet he hated himself when he thought of the meanness to which he stooped
+for conquest, when he remembered his own lost honor; for,
+
+    "If e'er he lov'd, 'twas her alone,
+     Who died within that vault of stone."
+
+Near Berwick town they came upon a venerable convent pile, and halted at
+its gate. In answer to the bell, a door opened, and an aged dame
+appeared to ask St. Hilda's Abbess to rest here with her nuns until a
+barque was provided to bear her back to Whitby.
+
+The courtesy of the Scottish Prioress was most joyfully received, and
+the delighted maidens gladly left their palfreys; but when Lady Clara
+attempted to dismount, Fitz-Eustace gently refused, saying:
+
+"I grieve, fair lady, to separate you from your friends. Think it no
+discourtesy of mine, but lords' commands must be obeyed, and Marmion and
+Douglas order that you shall return directly to your kinsman,
+Lord Fitz-Clare."
+
+The startled Abbess loud exclaimed, but Clara was speechless and deadly
+pale.
+
+"Cheer thee, my child!" the Abbess cried; "they dare not tear thee from
+my care, to ride alone among soldiers."
+
+"Nay, nay, holy mother," interrupted Fitz-Eustace, "the lovely lady,
+while in Scotland, will be the immediate ward of Lady Angus Douglas, and
+when she rides to England, female attendance will be provided befitting
+the heir of Gloster. My Lord Marmion will not address Lady Clare by word
+or look."
+
+He blushed as he spoke, but truth and honor were painted in his face,
+and the maiden's fear was relieved. The Abbess entreated, threatened,
+wept, prayed to saint and to martyr, then called upon the Prioress for
+aid. The grave Cistercian replied:
+
+"The King and Douglas shall be obeyed. Dream not that harm can come to
+woman, however helpless, who falls to the care of Douglas of Tantallon
+Hall."
+
+The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, assumed her wonted state, composed
+her veil, raised her head, and began again,--but Blount now broke in:
+
+    "'Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band;
+      St. Anton fire thee! wilt thou stand
+      All day, with bonnet in thy hand,
+        To hear the lady preach?
+      By this good light! if thus we stay,
+      Lord Marmion, for our fond delay,
+        Will sharper sermon teach.
+      Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse;
+      The dame must patience take perforce."
+
+"Dear, holy Abbess," said Clare, "we must submit to the separation for
+the present,
+
+    "'But let this barbarous lord despair
+      His purposed aim to win;
+      Let him take living, land, and life;
+      But to be Marmion's wedded wife
+        In me were deadly sin.'
+
+"Mother, your blessing and your prayers are all I ask. Remember your
+unhappy child! If it be the decree of the King that I return not to the
+sanctuary with thee to dwell, yet one asylum remains--low, silent, and
+lone, where kings have little power. One victim of Lord Marmion is
+already there."
+
+Weeping and wailing arose round patient Clare. Eustace hid his tears,
+and even the rude Blount could scarce bear the sight. Gently the squire
+took the rein and led the way, striving to cheer the poor fainting girl,
+by courteous word and deed.
+
+They had passed but a few miles, when from a height, they saw the vast
+towers of Tantallon. The noble castle was enclosed on three sides by the
+ocean, and on the fourth by walled battlements,
+
+    "And double mound and fosse,
+     By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong,
+     Through studded gates, and entrance long,
+       To the main court they cross.
+     It was a wide and stately square:
+     Around were lodgings, fit and fair,
+       And towers of various form."
+
+Here they rested, receiving from the host cold, but princely attention.
+By hurrying posts, daily there came varying tidings of war. At first
+they heard of the victories of James at Wark, at Etall, and at Ford; and
+then, that Norham castle had been taken; but later, news was whispered
+that while King James was dallying the time away with the wily Lady
+Heron, the army lay inactive. At length they heard the army had made
+post on the ridge that frowns over the Millfield Plain, and that brave
+Surrey, with a force from the South, had marched into Northumberland and
+taken camp.
+
+At this, Marmion exclaimed:
+
+    "'A sorry thing to hide my head
+      In castle, like a fearful maid,
+        When such a field is near!
+      Needs must I see this battle-day:
+      Death to my fame if such a fray
+      Were fought, and Marmion away!
+      The Douglas, too, I wot not why,
+      Hath 'bated of his courtesy:
+      No longer in his halls I'll stay."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Each hour brought a different tale. Marmion fretted like the impatient
+charger that "snuffs the battle from afar." It was true that Douglas had
+changed in his demeanor, had grown cold and silent. The dejected Clare
+sought retirement. Courteous she was to Lady Angus, shared in ceaseless
+prayers for the safe return of Scotch liege and lord, but borne down
+with sorrow, she loved best to find some lonely spot, turret, tower, or
+parapet, where she might retire alone to listen to the wailing waters,
+to hear the sea-bird's cry, to recall her life at the Convent of Whitby,
+and to regret the loss of the loved garb of the nun. At the command of
+her kinsman, the Benedictine dress, the hood and veil, so much in
+harmony with her life, had been denied her, and she had been made to
+assume the costume of the world.
+
+Her sunny locks were again unbound, and rich garments were provided,
+suited to her rank. Of the holy dress, the cross alone she was permitted
+to wear,--a golden cross set with rubies; but in her hand she always
+bore the loved breviary.
+
+Pacing back and forth at evening, sick with sorrow, she came suddenly
+upon a full suit of armor. It lay directly in her path--the targe, the
+corselet, the helm, the pierced breastplate. She raised her eyes in
+alarm, and before her stood De Wilton, but so changed it might have been
+his ghost. The Palmer's dress was thrown aside, the dress of the knight
+not resumed. He was neither king's noble, nor priest. Not until he had
+been proven innocent of treason, and redubbed knight, could he honorably
+wear his spurs.
+
+Long was the interview held between the astonished, delighted Clare, and
+the undisguised De Wilton. He began the story of his exile and travels,
+taking up the tale from the moment when he lay senseless in the lists at
+Cottiswold. The kind care of Austin, the beadsman, had restored him to
+health and strength. He described the long journeys in Palmer's dress,
+his return to Scotland, meeting Marmion at Norham Castle, the tilt on
+Gifford moor, and the interview with the Abbess, when he received from
+her the letters proving his innocence.
+
+Already, at Tantallon, he had told his story to Douglas, who had known
+De Wilton's family of old. That night, Douglas was to make him again a
+belted knight, and at dawn, he would haste to Surrey's camp to fight
+again for king and for country. The story heard from De Wilton, the
+letters showing the treachery of Marmion, accounted for the cold disdain
+shown by Douglas to his guest.
+
+The noble baron of Tantallon had promised to bring to the chapel at
+midnight the now happy, yet unhappy Clare, that she might bind on the
+spurs, buckle on the belt, and hear the magic words uttered which made
+her lover a noble knight. She was unhappy to think that so soon they
+must part, perhaps never to meet.
+
+Sweetly, tearfully she pleaded:
+
+    "'O Wilton! must we then
+      Risk new-found happiness again,
+        Trust fate of arms once more?
+      And is there not a humble glen,
+        Where we content and poor,
+      Might build a cottage in the shade,
+      A shepherd thou, and I to aid
+        Thy task on dale and moor?--
+      That reddening brow!--too well I know,
+      Not even thy Clare can peace bestow,
+        While falsehood stains thy name:
+      Go then to fight! Clare bids thee go!
+      Clare can a warrior's feelings know,
+        And weep a warrior's shame;
+      Buckle the spurs upon thy heel,
+      And belt thee with thy brand of steel,
+        And send thee forth to fame!'"
+
+At midnight, the slumbering moon-beams lay on rock and wave. Silvery
+light fell through every loop-hole and embrasure. In the witching hour
+two priests, the Lady Clare, Ralph de Wilton, and Douglas, Lord of
+Tantallon, stood before the altar of the chapel. De Wilton knelt, and
+when Clare had bound on sword and belt, Douglas laid on the blow,
+exclaiming as it fell:
+
+    "'I dub thee knight.
+      Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton's heir!
+      For King, for Church, for Lady fair,
+        See that thou fight.'"
+
+De Wilton knelt again before the giant warrior, and grasping his hand,
+exclaimed:
+
+"Where'er I meet a Douglas, that Douglas will be to me as a brother."
+
+"Nay, nay," the Lord of Tantallon replied, "not so; I have two sons in
+the field armed against your king. They fight for James of Scotland; you
+for Henry of England.
+
+    "'And, if thou meet'st them under shield,
+      Upon them bravely,--do thy worst;
+      And foul fall him that blenches first!"
+
+They parted; De Wilton to Surrey's camp, the Douglas to his castle to
+ponder on the strange events of the past few days, and Clare to weep in
+loneliness.
+
+It was yet early when Marmion ordered his train to be ready for the
+southward march. He had safe pass-ports for all, given under the royal
+seal of James. Douglas provided a guide as far as Surrey's camp. The
+ancient earl, with stately grace, placed the Lady Clare on her palfrey
+and whispered in her ear, "The falcon's prey has flown."
+
+As adieus were about to be said, Lord Marmion began:
+
+"In the treatment received, I, your guest, by your king's command, might
+well complain of coldness, indifference, and disrespect; but I let it
+pass, hoping that,
+
+    "'Part we in friendship from your land;
+      And, noble Earl, receive my hand.'--
+      But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
+      Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:--
+     'My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still
+      Be open, at my sovereign's will,
+      To each one who he lists, howe'er
+      Unmeet to be the owner's peer.
+      My castles are my King's alone,
+      From turret to foundation-stone--
+      The hand of Douglas is his own;
+      And never shall in friendly grasp,
+      The hand of such as Marmion clasp.'"--
+
+     "Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
+      And shook his very frame for ire,
+        And,--'This to me!' he said,--
+     'An 'twere not for thy hoary beard,
+      Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
+        To cleave the Douglas' head!
+      And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
+      He, who does England's message here,
+      Although the meanest in her state,
+      May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:
+        Even in thy pitch of pride,
+      Here in thy hold, thy vassals near--
+        I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
+      And if thou said'st, I am not peer
+      To any lord in Scotland here,
+        Lord Angus, thou hast lied!'
+      On the Earl's cheek, a flush of rage
+      O'ercame the ashen hue of age:
+      Fierce he broke forth,--And dare'st thou then
+      To beard the lion in his den,
+        The Douglas in his hall?
+      And hop'st thou thence unscathed to go?--Up
+      drawbridge, grooms--what, Warder, ho!
+        Let the portcullis fall.'
+      Lord Marmion turned--well was his need,
+      And dash'd the rowels in his steed."
+
+A swallow does not more lightly skim the air, than Marmion's steed flew
+along the drawbridge. The man drew rein when he had reached the train,
+turned, clenched his fists, shouted defiance, and shook his gauntlet at
+the towers where so lately he had been a guest.
+
+"To horse! to horse!" cried Douglas. "Let the chase be up." Then
+relenting, he smiled bitterly, saying, "He came a royal messenger. Bold
+can he talk and fairly ride, and I doubt not he will fight well."
+
+Slowly the Earl sought the castle walls, that frowned still more
+gloomily, no longer brightened by the young and beautiful Lady Clare.
+
+As the day wore on, Marmion's passion wore off, and scanning his little
+band, he missed the Palmer. From young Blount he demanded an explanation
+of the guide's absence.
+
+"The Palmer, in good sooth, parted from Douglas at dawn of day. If a
+Palmer he is, he set out in strange guise," replied the youth.
+
+"What mean you?" quickly demanded Marmion.
+
+"My Lord, I can ill interpret what I say. All night I was disturbed in
+my sleep, as if by workmen forging armor. At dawn, hearing the
+drawbridge fall, I looked from a loophole and saw old Bell-the-Cat,
+wrapped in sables, come from Tantallon keep. The wind blew aside the fur
+mantle, and I beheld beneath it, a suit of rusty mail, which I am sure
+must have done bloody work against Saracen and Turk. Last night that
+armor did not hang in Tantallon hall. Next, I saw Old Cheviot, Douglas's
+matchless steed, led forth, sheathed in bright armor. The Palmer sprang
+to the saddle, Lord Angus wished him speed, and as he bowed and bent in
+graceful farewells, I could but think how strongly that Palmer resembled
+the young knight you overthrew at Cottiswold."
+
+A sudden light broke upon Marmion. "Dastard! fool! I, to reason lost,
+when I rode to meet a fay, a ghost, on Gifford's moor. It was this
+Palmer fiend, De Wilton in disguise, I met. Had I but fought as is my
+wont, one thrust had placed him where he would never cross my path
+again. Now he has told my tale to Douglas. This is why I was treated
+with scorn. I almost fear to meet my Lord Surrey. I must avoid the Lady
+Clare, and separate Constance from the nuns.
+
+    "O, what a tangled web we weave,
+     When first we practice to deceive!
+     A Palmer too!--no wonder why
+     I felt rebuked beneath his eye:
+     I might have known there was but one
+     Whose look could quell Lord Marmion!"
+
+Stung with these thoughts, he urged on his troop, and at nightfall
+reached the Tweed, closing the march of the day at Lennel convent. Here
+Marmion, his train, and Lady Clare, were given entertainment for the
+night.
+
+    "'Next morn, the baron climb'd the tower,
+      To view afar the Scottish power,
+        Encamped on Flodden edge:
+      The white pavilions made a show,
+      Like remnants of the winter snow,
+        Along the dusky ridge.
+      Lord Marmion look'd:--at length his eye
+      Unusual movement might descry.
+      Their ranks inclining, wheeling, bending,
+      Now drawing back, and now descending,
+      The skilful Marmion well could know,
+      They watched the motions of some foe."
+
+Even so it was. The Scots from Flodden ridge saw the English host leave
+Barmore-wood and cross the river Till. Why did Scotland's hosts stand
+idle? What checked the fiery James, that he sat inactive on his steed
+and saw Surrey place the English army between Scotland and Scotland's
+army? O Douglas! O Wallace! O Bruce! for one hour of thy leadership to
+rule the fight! The precious hour passed,--the hour when in crossing the
+river, the English might have been destroyed.
+
+    "From fate's dark book a leaf been torn,
+     And Flodden had been Bannockbourne!"
+
+Fitz-Eustace called to Blount, and both to Marmion,
+
+    "'Lord Surrey's o'er the Till!'"
+
+The spirit of war flowed in every vein. Marmion flung himself into the
+saddle, scarce bade adieu to the good Abbot, commanded the young knight
+to escort the Lady Clare, and dashed on to the Tweed. The river must be
+crossed. Down to the deep and dangerous ford, he ventured desperately.
+Foremost of all, he gallantly entered and stemmed the tide. Eustace held
+Clare upon her saddle, and old Hubert reined her horse. Stoutly they
+braved the current, and though carried far down the stream, they gained
+the opposite bank.
+
+The train followed. Each held his bow high over his head, and well he
+might. Every string that day needed to be unharmed by moisture, that it
+might ring sharply in the coming combat.
+
+Marmion rested a moment, only to bathe his horse, then halted not until
+Surrey's rear guard was reached. Here on a hillock, by a cross of stone,
+they could survey the field.
+
+    "The hillock gain'd, Lord Marmion stayed:
+    'Here, by this cross,' he gently said,
+    'You well may view the scene.
+     Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:
+     Oh! think of Marmion in thy prayer!
+     Thou wilt not? well,--no less my care
+     Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.
+     You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,
+       With ten picked archers of my train;
+     With England if the day go hard,
+       To Berwick speed amain.
+     But if we conquer, cruel maid,
+     My spoils shall at your feet be laid,
+       When here we meet again."
+
+He waited for no answer, but dashed over the plain to Lord Surrey, who
+met him with delight.
+
+"Welcome, good Lord Marmion; brief greeting must serve in time of need.
+With Stanley, I myself, have charge of the central division of the army,
+Tunstall, stainless knight, directs the rearward, and the vanguard alone
+needs your gallant command."
+
+"Thanks, noble Surrey," Marmion said, and darted forward like a
+thunderbolt. At the van, arose cheer on cheer, "Marmion! Marmion!" so
+shrill, so high, as to startle the Scottish foe.
+
+Eustace and Blount sadly thought,
+
+    "'Unworthy office here to stay!
+      No hope of gilded spurs to-day.'"
+
+When King James saw that the English army by its skilful countermarch
+had separated him from his base of supplies, and from his own country,
+he resolved upon battle at once. Setting fire to his tents, he
+descended, and the two armies, one facing north, the other south, met
+almost without seeing each other.
+
+    "From the sharp ridges of the hill,
+     All downward to the banks of Till,
+       Was wreathed in sable smoke.
+     Volumed and fast, and rolling far,
+     The cloud enveloped Scotland's war,
+       As down the hill they broke;
+     Nor mortal shout, nor minstrel tone,
+     Announced their march; their tread alone
+     Told England, from his mountain-throne
+       King James did rushing come.
+     Scarce could they hear or see their foes,
+       Until at weapon-point they close.
+     They close, in clouds of smoke and dust,
+     With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust;
+       And such a yell was there,
+     Of sudden and portentous birth,
+     As if men fought upon the earth,
+       And fiends in upper air;
+     Oh, life and death were in the shout,
+     Recoil and rally, charge and rout,
+       And triumph and despair.
+     Long look'd the anxious squires; their eye
+     Could in the darkness naught descry."
+
+At length the breeze threw aside the shroud of battle, and there might
+be seen ridge after ridge of spears. Pennon and plume floated like foam
+on the crest of the wave. Spears shook; falchions flashed; arrows fell
+like rain; crests rose, and stooped, and rose again.
+
+    "Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew
+     With wavering flight, while fiercer grew
+       Around the battle-yell.
+     The Border slogan rent the sky!
+     A Home! a Gordon! was the cry:
+     Loud were the clanging blows;
+     Advanced--forced back--now low, now high,
+       The pennon sunk and rose;
+     As bends the barque's mast in the gale,
+     When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail,
+       It waver'd 'mid the foes.
+     No longer Blount the view could bear:
+    'By heaven and all its saints! I swear,
+       I will not see it lost;
+     Fitz-Eustace, you with Lady Clare
+     May bid your beads, and patter prayer,--
+       I gallop to the host.'"
+
+To the fray he rode, followed by the archers. At the next moment, fleet
+as the wind, Marmion's steed riderless flew by, the housings and saddle
+dyed crimson. Eustace mounted and plunged into the fight, resolved to
+rescue the body of his fallen lord.
+
+Alone, in that dreadful hour, a courage not her own armed the gentle
+girl with strength to play a noble part. She was thinking only of De
+Wilton, when two horsemen drenched with human gore, rode up, bearing a
+wounded knight, his shield bent, his helmet gone. He yet bore in his
+hand a broken brand. Could this be Marmion? Blount unlaced the armor;
+Eustace removed the casque; revived by the free air, Marmion cried:
+
+"Fitz-Eustace, Blount,
+
+    "'Redeem my pennon,--charge again!
+      Cry,--"Marmion to the rescue!"
+       'Must I bid twice?--hence, varlets! fly!
+        Leave Marmion here alone,--to die.'
+        They parted, and alone he lay;
+        Clare drew her from the sight away,
+      Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan,
+      And half he murmur'd--'Is there none,
+        Of all my halls have nursed,
+      Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring
+      Of blessed water from the spring,
+        To slake my dying thirst!'"
+
+     "O Woman! in our hours of ease,
+      Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
+      And variable as the shade
+      By the light quivering aspen made;
+      When pain and anguish wring the brow,
+      A ministering angel thou!
+      Scarce were the piteous accents said,
+      When, with the baron's casque, the maid
+        To the nigh streamlet ran:
+      Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears;
+      The plaintive voice alone she hears,
+      Sees but the dying man."
+
+She stooped by the side of the rill, but drew back in horror,--it ran
+red with the best blood of two kingdoms. Near by, a fountain played, the
+well of Sybil Grey. At this, the helmet was quickly filled, and
+accompanied by a monk, who was present to shrive the dying or to bless
+the dead, the Lady Clare hurried to the side of Marmion. Deep he drank,
+saying:
+
+"Is it the hand of Constance or of Clare that bathes my brow? Speak not
+to me of shrift and prayer; while the spark of life lasts, I must
+redress the wrongs of Constance."
+
+Between broken sobs the Lady Clare replied:
+
+    "'In vain for Constance is your zeal;
+      She--died at Holy Isle.'"
+
+Lord Marmion started from the ground, but fainting fell, supported by
+the monk.
+
+The din of war ceased for a moment, then there swelled upon the gale the
+cry, "Stanley! Stanley!"
+
+    "A light on Marmion's visage spread,
+       And fired his glazing eye:
+     With dying hand, above his head,
+     He shook the fragment of his blade,
+       And shouted 'Victory!
+     Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!'
+     Were the last words of Marmion."
+
+The monk gently placed the maid on her steed, and led her to the fair
+Chapel of Tilmouth. The night was spent in prayer, and at dawn she was
+safely given to her kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.
+
+All day, till darkness drew her wing over the ghastly scene, more
+desperate grew the deadly strife. When night had fallen, Surrey drew his
+shattered bands from the fray. Then Scotland learned her loss.
+
+    "Their king, their lords, their mightiest low,
+     They melted from the field as snow,
+     Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless splash
+       While many a broken band,
+     Disorder'd, through her currents dash,
+       To gain the Scottish land;
+     To town and tower, to down and dale,
+     To tell red Flodden's dismal tale,
+     And raise the universal wail.
+     Tradition, legend, tune, and song,
+     Shall many an age that wail prolong:
+     Still from the sire the son shall hear
+     Of the stern strife, and carnage drear.
+       Of Flodden's fatal field,
+     Where shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear,
+       And broken was her shield!
+
+    "Day dawns upon the mountain's side:--
+     There, Scotland! lay thy bravest pride,
+     Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one:
+     The sad survivors all are gone.
+     View not that corpse mistrustfully,
+     Defaced and mangled-though it be;
+     He saw the wreck his rashness wrought;
+     Reckless of life, he desperate fought,
+       And fell on Flodden plain:
+     And well in death his trusty brand,
+     Firm clench'd within his kingly hand,
+       Beseem'd the monarch slain."
+
+Little remains to be told. Fitz-Eustace, faithful to the last, bore "To
+Litchfield's lofty pile," what he believed to be the pierced and mangled
+body of his once proud master. Here was reared a Gothic tomb; carved
+tablets were set in fretted niche; around were hung his arms and armor,
+and the walls were blazoned with his deeds of valor; but Lord Marmion's
+body lay not there. Midst the din and roar of battle, a poor dying
+peasant had dragged himself to the fountain where died the Lord of
+Fontenaye, the Lord of Tamworth tower and town. Spoilers stripped and
+mutilated both bodies and the lowly woodsman was carried to the proud
+baron's tomb.
+
+Through the long and dreadful fight, Wilton was in the foremost and
+thickest. When Surrey's horse was slain, it was De Wilton's horse on
+which the noble leader was again mounted. It was Wilton's brand that
+hewed down the spearsmen. He was the living soul of all.
+
+In that battle, he won back rank and lands, adding to his crest bearings
+bought on Flodden Field. King and kinsman blessed fair Clara's
+constancy. As he reads, each must paint for himself the bridal scene,
+and imagine that,
+
+    "Bluff King Hal the curtain drew,
+     And Catherine's hand the stocking threw;
+     And afterwards, for many a day,
+     That it was held enough to say,
+     In blessing to a wedded pair,
+    'Love they like Wilton and like Clare.'"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prose Marmion, by Sara D. Jenkins
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10778 ***
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #10778 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10778)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prose Marmion, by Sara D. Jenkins
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Prose Marmion
+       A Tale of the Scottish Border
+
+Author: Sara D. Jenkins
+
+Release Date: January 22, 2004 [EBook #10778]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PROSE MARMION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+THE PROSE MARMION
+
+A TALE OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER
+
+ADAPTED FROM
+
+SCOTT'S "MARMION"
+
+BY
+
+SARA D. JENKINS
+
+ITHACA, N.Y.
+
+_Author of the Prose "Lady of the Lake," etc._
+
+1903
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SIR WALTER SCOTT. (Bust.)]
+
+[Illustration: SIR WALTER SCOTT. (From painting by _Wm. Nicholson_.)]
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Sir Walter Scott, poet and novelist, was born in Edinburgh, Scotland,
+five years before the Declaration of Independence in America. Unlike
+most little Scotch boys, he was not sturdy and robust, and in his second
+year, a lameness appeared that never entirely left him. Being frail and
+delicate, he received the most tender care from parents and
+grandparents. Five consecutive years of his life, from the age of three
+to the age of eight, were spent on his grandfather's farm at Sandyknow.
+At the end of this period, he returned to Edinburgh greatly improved in
+health, and soon after, entered the high school, where he remained four
+years. A course at the university followed the high school, but Scott
+never gained distinction as a scholar. He loved romances, old plays,
+travels, and poetry too well, ever to become distinguished in
+philosophy, mathematics, or the dry study of dead languages.
+
+In his early years, he had formed a taste for ballad literature, which
+very significantly influenced, if it did not wholly determine, the
+character of his writings. The historical incidents upon which the
+ballads were founded, their traditional legends, affected him
+profoundly, and he wished to become at once a poet of chivalry, a writer
+of romance. His father, however, had other plans for his son, and the
+lad was made a lawyer's apprentice in the father's office. Continuing,
+as recreation, his reading, he gave six years to the study of law, being
+admitted to the bar when only twenty-one. For years, he cultivated
+literature as a relaxation from business.
+
+At the age of twenty-six he married, and about this time accepted the
+office of deputy sheriff of Selkirkshire, largely moved to do so by his
+unwillingness to rely upon his pen for support. Nine years later, 1806,
+through family influence he was appointed, at a good salary, to one of
+the chief clerkships in the Scottish court of sessions. The fulfillment
+of his long-cherished desire of abandoning his labors as an advocate, in
+order to devote himself to literature, was now at hand. He had already
+delighted the public by various early literary efforts, the most
+important being the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," parts of which
+had occupied him since childhood. This was followed by "Sir Tristrem"
+and the "Lay of the Last Minstrel." Scott was now enrolled among the
+poets of the day, and while never neglecting the duties of office, he
+entered upon his literary career with unflagging industry. "Marmion,"
+"The Lady of the Lake," "Don Roderick," and "Rokeby" reflected his
+romantic fervor.
+
+Lord Byron now had entered the field of letters, and Scott, conscious of
+the power of his rival, determined to seek fame in other than poetic
+paths. This determination produced "Waverly," whose success gave birth
+to Scott's desire to be numbered among the landed gentry of the country.
+Under the influence of this passion, the novels now associated with his
+name followed with startling rapidity, and their growth developed in the
+author an unwillingness to be known as a penman writing for fortune.
+Literary fame was less dear to him than the upbuilding of a family name.
+The novels went for a time fatherless, but the baronial mansion, still
+one of the most famous shrines of the curious, grew into the stately
+proportions of Abbotsford.
+
+In 1820. George IV. conferred upon Scott the baronetcy, dearer than all
+the plaudits of the public. But
+
+    "Giddy chance never bears,
+     That mortal bliss shall last for years,"
+
+and the failure of banker and of publisher disclosed that the landed
+baronet had been a silent partner in the house of his printer for a
+quarter of a century, for whose debts Scott was liable to the extent of
+one hundred thousand pounds and to his bankers for enough more to make
+the entire debt one hundred fifty thousand pounds. Unappalled by the
+loss, Scott refused all offers of release from his creditors, and began
+to pay the debt by means of his pen, determined to preserve Abbotsford
+to his children's children. At a dinner given in 1827, he threw off all
+disguise, and acknowledged the authorship of the Waverly novels.
+
+His great exertions brought on paralysis. A visit to Italy failed to
+improve his condition, and he returned to die on the banks of the Tweed,
+and to be laid at rest in Dreyburg Abbey. He had paid one hundred
+thousand pounds of the debt, and the publishers of his works had
+sufficient confidence in their sale to advance the remaining fifty
+thousand pounds, the estate thus being left free of encumbrance.
+
+Of his four children, two sons and two daughters, none left male issue.
+A grandchild, the wife of Robert Hope, was permitted by Parliament to
+assume the name of Scott, and her son Walter, at the age of twenty-one,
+was knighted by Queen Victoria.
+
+Edinburgh has erected to his memory a most graceful monument, and
+Westminster Abbey a memorial. Visitors, under certain limitations, are
+permitted to visit the mansion, to see the enchanted library, and the
+famous study, to stray about the grounds where the famous writer spent
+the happiest, as well as the saddest, years of his life.
+
+[Illustration: ABBOTSFORD.]
+
+
+
+
+THE PROSE MARMION.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+In all the border country that lies between England and Scotland, no
+castle stands more fair than Norham. Fast by its rock-ribbed walls flows
+the noble Tweed, and on its battled towers frown the hills of Cheviot.
+
+Day was dying, St. George's banner, broad and gay, hung in the evening
+breeze that scarce had power to wave it o'er the keep. Warriors on the
+turrets were moving across the sky like giants, their armor flashing
+back the gleam of the setting sun, when a horseman dashed forward,
+spurred on his proud steed, and blew his bugle before the dark archway
+of the castle. The warder, knowing well the horn he heard, hastened from
+the wall and warned the captain of the guard. At once was given the
+command, "Make the entrance free! Let every minstrel, every herald,
+every squire, prepare to receive Lord Marmion, who waits below!" The
+iron-studded gate was unbarred, the portcullis raised, the drawbridge
+dropped, and proudly across it, stepped a red roan charger, bearing the
+noble guest.
+
+Lord Marmion was a stalwart knight, whose visage told of many a battle.
+The scar on his brown cheek spoke of Bosworth Field, and the fire that
+burned in his eye showed a spirit still proud. The lines of care on his
+brow, and the threads of silver in his black curling hair, spoke less of
+age than of toil. The square-turned joints, the evident strength of body
+and limb, bespoke not a carpet-knight, but a grim champion. From head to
+foot, he was clad in mail of Milan steel. His helmet of embossed gold
+hung at the saddle-bow. A falcon hovered in the crest, and soared on the
+azure field of the noble lord's shield, above the motto, "Who checks at
+me, to death is dight!"
+
+The horse was as richly clad as its rider. The reins were embroidered in
+blue, and ribbons of the same color decked the arched neck and mane. The
+housings were of blue trapped with gold.
+
+Behind the leader, rode gallant squires of noble name. Though still a
+squire, each had well earned knighthood. Each could tame a war horse,
+draw a bow, wield a sword, dance in the hall, carve at the board, frame
+love ditties, and sing them to fair ladies.
+
+Next in the train, came four men-at-arms: two carried halbert, bill,
+axe, and lance; a third led the sumpter mules and the ambling palfrey,
+which served to bear Lord Marmion when he wished to relieve his battle
+steed; the most trusty of the four held on high the pennon, furled in
+its glossy blue streamers. Last were twenty yeomen, two and two, in blue
+jerkins, black hose, and wearing falcons embroidered on each breast. At
+their belts hung quivers, and in their hands were boar-spears, tough and
+strong. They knew the art of hunting by lake or in wood, could bend a
+six-foot bow, or, at the behest of their lord, send far the cloth-yard
+spear.
+
+To welcome Marmion, the Flower of English Chivalry, the soldiers of the
+guard of Norham stood in the castle yard, with reversed pike and spear.
+Minstrels and trumpeters were there, the welcome was prepared, and as
+the train entered, a clang sounded through turret and tower, such as the
+old castle had seldom heard.
+
+Trumpets flourished, the martial airs rang out as Marmion crossed the
+court, scattering angels among the ranks. Loud rose the cry:
+
+    "Welcome to Norham, Marmion!
+     Stout heart and open hand!
+     Thou flower of English land!"
+
+Two pursuivants stood at the entrance to the donjon, and hailed the
+guest as Lord of Fontenaye, of Lutterward, Scrivelbaye, of "Tamworth
+tower and town." To requite their courtesy, Marmion, as he alighted,
+hung about the neck of each a chain of twelve marks.
+
+"Largesse, largesse, knight of the crest of gold!" cried the heralds, in
+acknowledgment of the bounty received;
+
+    "'A blazon'd shield in battle won,
+       Ne'er guarded heart so bold.'"
+
+As they marshalled him to the castle hall, the guests stood aside, and
+again the trumpets flourished, and the heralds cried:
+
+    "'Room, lordlings, room for Lord Marmion,
+        With the crest and helm of gold!
+      Full well we know the trophies won
+        In the lists at Cottiswold:
+      There, vainly Ralph de Wilton strove
+        'Gainst Marmion's force to stand;
+      To him he lost his lady-love,
+        And to the King his land.
+      Ourselves beheld the listed field,
+        A sight both sad and fair;
+      We saw Lord Marmion pierce the shield,
+        And saw the saddle bare;
+      We saw the victor win the crest
+        He wears with worthy pride;
+      And on the gibbet-tree, reversed,
+        His foeman's scutcheon tied.
+      Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight!
+        Room, room, ye gentles gay,
+      For him who conquered in the right,
+        Marmion of Fontenaye!'"
+
+As the welcome died away, forth stepped Sir Hugh, lord of the castle. He
+led his visitor to the raised dais and placed him in the seat of honor,
+while a northern harper chanted a rude hymn. The ear of Marmion could
+scarcely brook the barbarous sound, yet much he praised, well knowing
+that,
+
+    "Lady's suit, and minstrel's strain,
+     By knight should ne'er be heard in vain."
+
+As the weird strains died away, the host pressed the English lord to
+bide long as a guest, promising rest for horse, and refreshment and
+pleasure for man, with many a joust, or feat at arms, for those who
+wished to learn northern ways.
+
+At this the brow of Marmion grew dark and stern. Sir Hugh marked the
+changed look, and pouring out a bowl of sparkling wine, said:
+
+    "'Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion:
+        But first I pray thee fair,
+      Where hast thou left that page of thine,
+        Whose beauty was so rare?
+      When last in Raby towers we met,
+        The boy I closely eyed,
+      And often marked his cheeks were wet
+        With tears he fain would hide.'"
+
+Lord Marmion ill concealed his rising anger, yet he made a calm reply.
+
+"The lad was too frail to endure the northern climate, and I have left
+him at Lindisfarne. May I ask, Lord Heron, why the lady of the castle
+disdains to grace the hall to-day? Is it because Marmion of Fontenaye is
+present?"
+
+The Knight replied:
+
+"Norham Castle is a grim, dull cage for a bird so beautiful as the lady
+of Heron, and with my consent she sits with the noble and fair Queen
+Margaret, the bride of royal James."
+
+"Ah!" replied the Heron's noble guest, "if this be so, I will gladly
+bear to her your tender messages. I am now, by the request of our good
+English King, on my way to the court of Scotland, to learn why James is
+gathering troops, why making warlike preparations, and, if it be
+possible, I am to persuade him to maintain the peace. From your great
+goodness, I make bold to ask for myself and for my train a trusty guide.
+I have not ridden in Scotland since James backed Richard, Duke of York,
+in his pretensions to the throne of England. Then, as you remember, I
+marched with Surrey's forces, and razed to the ground the tower of
+Aytoun."
+
+"For such need, my lord, trust old Norham gray. Here are guides who have
+spurred far on Scottish ground, who have tasted the ale of St. Bothan,
+driven off the beeves of Lauderdale, and fired homes that the inmates
+might have light by which to dress themselves."
+
+"In good sooth," replied Lord Marmion, "were I bent on war, a better
+guard I could not wish, but I go in form of peace, a friendly messenger
+to a foreign King. A plundering border spear might arouse suspicious
+fears, and the deadly feud, the thirst for blood, break out in unseemly
+broil. More fitting as guide, would be a friar, a pardoner, traveling
+priest, or strolling pilgrim."
+
+Sir Hugh musingly passed his hand over his brow, and then replied: "Fain
+would I find the guide you need, but, though a bishop built this castle,
+few holy brethren resort here. If the priest of Shoreswood were here, he
+could rein your wildest horse, but no spearsman in the hall will sooner
+strike or join in fray. Friar John of Tilmouth is the very man! He is a
+blithesome brother, a welcome guest in hall and hut. He knows each
+castle, town and tower in which the ale and wine are good. He now seldom
+leaves these walls, but, perchance, in your guard he will go."
+
+In the pause that followed, young Selby, nephew of the Earl of Norham,
+respectfully said, "Kind uncle, unhappy we, if harm came to Friar John.
+When time hangs heavy in the hall, and the snow lies deep at Christmas
+tide, when we can neither hunt nor joust, who will sing the carols, and
+sweep away the stake at bowls? Who will lead the games and gambols? Let
+Friar John in safety fill his chimney corner, roast hissing crabs, or
+empty the flagons. Last night, there came to Norham Castle a fitter
+guide for Lord Marmion."
+
+"Nephew," said Sir Hugh, "well hast thou spoke. Say on."
+
+"There came here, direct from Rome, one who hath visited the blessed
+tomb, and worshipped in each holy spot of Arabia and Palestine. He hath
+been on the hills where rested Noah's Ark; he hath walked by the Red
+Sea; in Sinai's Wilderness, he saw the mount where Moses received the
+law. He knows the passes of the North, and is on his way to distant
+shrines beyond the Forth. Little he eats, and drinks only of stream or
+lake. He is a fit guide for moor and fell."
+
+"Gramercy!" exclaimed Lord Marmion. "Loth would I be to take Friar John,
+if this Palmer will lead us as far as Holy-Rood. I'll pay him not in
+beads and cockle shells, but in 'angels' fair and good. I love such holy
+ramblers. They know how to charm each weary hill with song or romance.
+
+    "'Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest,
+     They bring to cheer the way.'"
+
+"Ah! sire," said young Selby, as he laid his finger on his lip in token
+of silence, "this man knows more than he has ever learned from holy
+lore. Last night, we listened at his cell, and strange things we heard.
+He muttered on till dawn. No conscience clear and void of evil intent
+remains so long awake to pray."
+
+"Let it pass," cried Marmion. "This man and he only shall guide me on my
+way, though he and the arch fiend were sworn friends. So, please you,
+gentle youth, call this Palmer to the castle hall."
+
+Little did Marmion dream that the Palmer was Ralph de Wilton, his
+deadliest foe, in disguise--Ralph de Wilton, his rival in love, whom
+Marmion had accused of treason, had caused to be sent into exile, and
+whom he supposed dead.
+
+A moment later the Palmer appeared, clad in a black mantle and cowl, and
+wearing on his shoulders the keys of St. Peter cut in cloth of red. His
+cap, bordered with scallop shells, fitted close to his head, and over
+all was drawn the cowl. His sandals were travel-worn. In his hands he
+bore a staff and palm branch, emblems of the pilgrim from the holy land.
+No lord or knight was there in the hall who had a more stately step,
+none who looked more proud. He waited not for salutation, but strode
+across the hall of state, and fronted Marmion, as peer meets peer.
+Beneath the cowl was a face so wan, so worn, a cheek so sunken, and an
+eye so wild, that the mother would not have known her child, much less
+Marmion, his rival.
+
+Danger, travel, want, and woe soon change the form. Deadly fear can
+outstrip time; toil quenches the fire of youth; and despair traces
+wrinkles deeper than old age.
+
+    "Happy whom none of these befall;
+     But this poor Palmer knew them all."
+
+Lord Marmion made known his request, and the Palmer took upon himself
+the task of guide, on condition that they set out without delay, saying:
+
+    "'But I have solemn vows to pay
+      And may not linger by the way;
+      Saint Mary grant that cave or spring
+      May back to peace my bosom bring,
+      Or bid it throb no more!'"
+
+Then the page, on bended knee, presented to each guest in turn the
+massive silver bowl of wassail, "the midnight draught of sleep," rich
+with wine and spices. Lord Marmion drank, "Sound sleep to all"; the earl
+pledged his noble guest; all drained it merrily except the Palmer. He
+alone refused, although Selby urged him most courteously. The feast was
+over, the sound of minstrel hushed. Nought was heard in the castle but
+the slow footsteps of the guard.
+
+At dawn the chapel doors unclosed, and after a hasty mass from Friar
+John, a rich repast was served to knight and squire.
+
+    "Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse:
+     Then came the stirrup-cup in course;
+     Between the Baron and his host
+     No point of courtesy was lost;
+     Till, filing from the gate, had passed
+     That noble train, their Lord the last.
+     Then loudly rang the trumpet call;
+     Thundered the cannon from the wall,
+       And shook the Scottish shore;
+     Around the castle eddied slow,
+     Volumes of smoke as white as snow,
+       And hid its turrets hoar;
+     Till they rolled forth upon the air,
+    And met the river breezes there."
+
+[Illustration: THE LIBRARY, ABBOTSFORD.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+The breeze which swept away the rolling smoke from Norham, curled not
+the Tweed alone. Far upon Northumbrian waters, it blew fresh and strong,
+bearing on its wings a barque from the Abbey of Whitby on the coast of
+Yorkshire, sailing to St. Cuthbert's at Lindisfarne, on Holy Isle.
+
+    "The merry seamen laugh'd to see
+     Their gallant ship so lustily
+       Furrow the green sea-foam.
+     Much joy'd they in their honor'd freight;
+     For, on the deck, in chair of state,
+     The Abbess of Saint Hilda placed,
+     With five fair nuns, the galley graced.
+
+    "'T was sweet to see these holy maids,
+     Like birds escaped to green-wood shades,
+       Their first flight from the cage;
+     How timid, and how curious, too,
+     For all to them was strange and new,
+     And all the common sights they view,
+       Their wonderment engage."
+
+Light-hearted were they all, except the Abbess and the novice Clare.
+Fair, kind, and noble, the Abbess had early taken the veil. Her hopes,
+her fears, her joys, were bounded by the cloister walls; her highest
+ambition being to raise St. Hilda's fame. For this she gave her ample
+fortune--to build its bowers, to adorn its chapels with rare and quaint
+carvings, and to deck the relic shrine with ivory and costly gems. The
+poor and the pilgrim blessed her bounty and shelter.
+
+Her pale cheek and spare form were made more striking by the black
+Benedictine garb. Vigils and penitence had dimmed the luster of her
+eyes. Though proud of her religious sway and its severity, she loved her
+maidens and was loved by them in return.
+
+The purpose of the present voyage was most unhappy, and to the Abbess
+most painful. She came to Lindisfarne upon the summons of St. Cuthbert's
+Abbot, to hold with him and the Prioress of Tynemouth an inquisition on
+two apostates from the faith, if need were, to condemn them to death.
+
+On the galley's prow sat the unhappy sister Clare, young and beautiful,
+lovely and guileless, as yet a nun unprofessed. She had been betrothed
+to Ralph de Wilton, whom she supposed now dead, or worse, a dishonored
+fugitive. After the disgrace brought upon her lover, Clare had been
+commanded by her guardians to give her hand to Lord Marmion, who loved
+her for her lands alone. Heartbroken at the fate of her true-love, and
+to escape this hateful marriage, she was about to take the vestal vow,
+and in the gloom of St. Hilda hide her blasted hopes, her youth and
+beauty.
+
+As the vessel glided over the waters, she gazed into their depths,
+seeing only a sun-scorched desert, waste and bare, where no wave
+murmured, no breeze sighed. Again she saw a loved form on the burning
+sands: the dear dead, denied even the simplest rites of burial.
+
+Now the vessel skirted the coast of mountainous Northumberland. Towns,
+towers, and halls, successive rose before the delighted group of
+maidens. Tynemouth's Priory appeared, and as they passed, the fair nuns
+told their beads. At length the Holy Island was reached. The tide was at
+its flood. Twice each day, pilgrims dry-shod might find their way to the
+island; and twice each day the waves beat high between the island and
+the shore, effacing all marks of pilgrim's staff and sandalled foot.
+
+As the galley flew to the port, higher and higher, the castle and its
+battled towers rose to view, a huge, solemn, dark-red pile. In Saxon
+strength the massive arches broad and round, row on row, supported by
+short, ponderous columns, frowned upon the approaching visitor. It stood
+at the very water's edge, and had been built long before the birth of
+Gothic architecture. On its walls the tempestuous sea and heathen Dane
+alike had vainly poured their impious rage. For more than a thousand
+years, wind, wave, and warrior had been held at bay. The deep walls of
+the old abbey still stood worn but unsubdued.
+
+As they drew near, the maidens raised St. Hilda's song. Borne on the
+wind over the wave, their voices met a response of welcome in the chorus
+which arose upon the shore. Soon, bearing banner, cross, and relic,
+monks and nuns filed in order from the grim cloister down to the harbor,
+echoing back the hymn. Among her maidens, conspicuous in veil and hood,
+stood the Abbess, even then engaged in holy devotion.
+
+When the reception at harbor and hall was over, and the evening banquet
+ended, the vestal maidens and their visitors, secure from unhallowed
+eyes, roamed at will through each holy cloister, aisle, gallery, and
+dome. Though it was a summer night, the evening fell damp and chill, the
+sea breeze blowing cold, and the pure-minded girls closed around the
+blazing hearth, each in turn to paint the glory of her favorite saint.
+
+While, round the fire, legends were rehearsed by the happy group, a very
+different scene was taking place in a secret underground aisle, where a
+council of life and death was being held. The spot was more dark and
+lone than a dungeon cell. Light and air were excluded, as it was a
+burial place for those who, dying in sin, might not be laid within the
+Church. It was also a place of punishment, whence if a cry pierced the
+upper air, the hearer offered a prayer, thinking he heard the moaning of
+spirits in torment.
+
+Few save the Abbot knew the place, and fewer still, the devious way by
+which it was approached. When taken there, victims and judge were led
+blindfold. The walls were rude rocks, the pavement, gravestones sunken
+and worn. The noxious vapor, chilled into drops, fell tinkling on the
+floor. An antique lamp, hanging from an iron chain, gave a dim light,
+which strove with darkness and damp to show the horrors of the scene.
+Here the three judges were met to pronounce the sentence of doom.
+
+In the pale light sat the Abbess of St. Hilda. Closely she drew her veil
+to hide the teardrops of pity. Near her was the Prioress of Tynemouth,
+proud and haughty, yet white with awe. Next was the aged Abbot of St.
+Cuthbert, or, as he was called, the "Saint of Lindisfarne." Before them,
+under sentence, stood the guilty pair. One was a maiden who, disguised
+in the dress of a page, had been taken from Marmion's train. The cloak
+and hood could not conceal or mar her beauty. On the breast of her
+doublet was Lord Marmion's badge, a falcon crest, which she vainly
+attempted to conceal.
+
+At the command of the Prioress, the silken band that fastened the young
+girl's long, fair hair was undone, and down over her slender form fell
+the rich golden ringlets. Before them stood Constance de Beverley, a
+professed nun of Fontevraud. Lured by the love of Marmion, she had
+broken her vow, and fled from the convent. She now stood so beautiful,
+so calm, so pale, that but for the heaving breast and heavy breathing,
+she might have been a form of wax wrought to the very life.
+
+Her companion in misery was a sorry sight. This wretch, wearing frock
+and cowl, was not ashamed to moan, to shrink, to grovel on the floor, to
+crouch like a hound, while the accused frail girl waited her doom
+without a sound, without a tear.
+
+Well might she grow pale! In the dark wall were two niches narrow and
+high. In each was laid a slender meal of roots, bread, and water. Close
+to each cell, motionless, stood two haggard monks holding a blazing
+torch, and displaying the cement, stones, and implements with which the
+culprits were to be immured.
+
+Now the blind old Abbot rose to speak the doom of those to be enclosed
+in the new made tombs. Twice he stopped, as the woeful maiden, gathering
+her powers, tried to make audible the words which died in murmurs on her
+quivering lips. At length, by superhuman effort, she sent the blood,
+curdled at her heart, coursing through every vein. Light came to her
+eye, color to her cheek, and when the silence was broken, she gathered
+strength at every word. It was a strange sight to see resolution so high
+in a form so weak, so soft, so fair.
+
+"I speak," she said, "not to implore mercy, for full well I know it
+would be vain. Neither do I speak to gain your prayers, for a lingering,
+living death within these walls will be a penance fit to cleanse my soul
+of every sin. I speak not for myself, but for one whom I have wronged
+though he never did me wrong; one who, if living, is now an exile under
+the ban of the King. I speak to clear the fair name of Ralph de Wilton,
+and to accuse Lord Marmion of Fontenaye, the traitor, to whose false
+words of love I listened when I left my veil and convent dear.
+
+"Long, weary days, I bowed my pride, and humbled my honor, to ride as
+squire to this false knight, who daily promised me marriage. To be his
+slave, hoping to be his wife, I forfeited all peace on earth, all hope
+beyond the grave; but when he met the betrothed of Ralph de Wilton, the
+Lady Clare, when he learned of her vast wealth and broad lands, when he
+saw her face more fair than mine, he foreswore his faith. I, Constance,
+was beloved no more. It is an old story, often told.
+
+"The King approved the scheme of Marmion. Vainly de Wilton pleaded his
+right to the hand of Clare, and when all fair means were exhausted,
+Ralph was accused of treason. By my woman's unworthy hand, at the
+command of Marmion, was forged the papers which sealed de Wilton's fate.
+The two men fought in mortal combat.
+
+    "'Their prayers are prayed,
+      Their lances in the rest are laid.'
+
+"The result was told by the loud cry, 'Marmion! Marmion! De Wilton to
+the block!' Justice seemed dead, for he, ever loyal in love and in
+faith, was overthrown by the falsehearted. This packet will prove de
+Wilton innocent of treason, how innocent, these letters alone can tell,
+and I now give them to the sacred care of the Abbess of St. Hilda. Guard
+them with your life, till they rest in the hands of the King."
+
+She paused, gathered voice and strength and proceeded:
+
+"The Lady Clare hated the name of Marmion, mourned her dishonored lover,
+and fled to the convent of Whitby. The King, incensed at her action,
+declared she should be his favorite's bride even though she were a nun
+confessed. Marmion was sent to Scotland and I, cast off, determined to
+plan a sure escape for Clare and for myself. This false monk, whom you
+are about to condemn with me, promised to carry to Clare the drugs by
+means of which she would soon have been the bride of heaven. His
+cowardice has undone us both, and I now reveal the story of the crime,
+that none may wed with Marmion, that his perfidy may be made known to
+the King, who, when he reads these letters, will see his favorite
+deserves the headsman's axe. Now, men of death, do your worst. I can
+suffer and be still.
+
+    "'And come he slow, or come he fast,
+      It is but death who comes at last.'"
+
+The old Abbot raised his sightless eyes to heaven and said:
+
+    "'Sister, let thy sorrows cease;
+      Sinful brother, part in peace!'"
+
+Up from the direful place of doom, to the light of day and to the fresh
+air, passed those who had held this awful trial. Shrieks and groans
+followed the winding steps. The peasant who heard the unearthly cries
+bowed his head, the hermit told his beads, the brother crossed himself,
+even the stag on Cheviot hills bounded to his feet, listened and then
+trembling lay down to hide among the mountain ferns.
+
+[Illustration: THE STUDY, ABBOTSFORD.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+We now return to Lord Marmion, who, led by the Palmer, was hastening on
+to Holyrood. When the heights of Lammermoor were reached, noon had long
+passed, and at early nightfall, old Gifford's towers lay before them.
+Here they had expected hospitality, but the lord of the Castle had gone
+to Scotland's camp, where were gathered the noblest and bravest of her
+sons. No friendly summons called them to the hall, for in her lord's
+absence, the lady refused admittance alike to friend and foe.
+
+On through the hamlet rode the train until it drew rein at the inn. Now
+down from their seats sprang the horsemen. The courtyard rang with
+jingling spurs, horses were led to the stalls, and the bustling host
+gave double the orders that could be obeyed. The building was large, and
+though rudely built, its cheerful fire and savory food were most welcome
+to the weary men. Soon by the wide chimney's roaring blaze, and in the
+place of state, sat Marmion. He watched his followers as they mixed the
+brown ale, and enjoyed the bountiful repast. Oft the lordly warrior
+mingled in the mirth they made.
+
+    "For though, with men of high degree,
+     The proudest of the proud was he,
+     Yet, trained in camp, he knew the art
+     To win the soldier's hardy heart.
+     Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May,
+     With open hand and brow as free,
+     Lover of wine and minstrelsy."
+
+Directly opposite, resting on his staff, stood the Palmer, the thin,
+dark visage half seen, half hidden by his hood. Steadily he gazed on
+Marmion, who by frown and gesture gave evidence that he could ill bear
+so close a scrutiny.
+
+As squire and archer looked at the stern, dark face of the Pilgrim,
+their bursts of laughter grew less loud, less frequent, and gradually
+their mirth declined. They whispered one to another: "Sawest thou ever
+such a face? How pale his cheek! How bright his eye! His heart must be
+set only on his soul's salvation."
+
+To chase away the gloom gradually stealing over the company, and to draw
+from himself the sullen scowl of the Palmer, Marmion called upon his
+favorite squire:
+
+    "'Fitz-Eustace, knows't thou not some lay
+      To speed the lingering night away?'"
+
+The youth made an unhappy choice. He had a rich, mellow voice, and chose
+the wild, sad ballad often sung to Marmion by the unfortunate Constance
+de Beverley. When all was quiet, quiveringly the notes fell upon the
+air:
+
+SONG.
+
+    "Where shall the lover rest,
+       Whom the fates sever
+     From his true maiden's breast,
+       Parted forever?
+     Where early violets die
+       Under the willow.
+
+    "There through the summer day,
+       Cool streams are laving
+     There while the tempests sway,
+       Scarce are boughs waving;
+     There thy rest shalt thou take,
+     Never again to awake,
+       Never, O never!
+
+    "Where shall the traitor rove,
+       He, the deceiver,
+     Who could win maiden's love,
+       Win and then leave her?
+     In the lost battle,
+       Borne down by the flying,
+     Where mingles war's rattle
+       With groans of the dying.
+
+    "His warm blood the wolf shall lap,
+       Ere life be parted.
+     Shame and dishonor sit
+       By his grave ever;
+     Blessing shall hallow it--
+       Never, O never!"
+
+The melancholy sound ceased. The song was sad, and bitterly it fell on
+the false-hearted Marmion. Well he knew that at his request the faithful
+but misguided Constance had been taken to Lindisfarne to be punished for
+crime committed through her mistaken love for him. As if he already saw
+disgrace for himself and death for her, he drew his mantle before his
+face, and bent his head upon his hands. Constance de Beverley at that
+moment was dying in her cell.
+
+The meanest groom in all the train could scarce have wished to exchange
+places with the proud Marmion, could his thoughts have been known.
+Controlling himself, and raising his head, he said:
+
+"As you sang, it seemed that I heard a death knell rung in mine ear.
+What is the meaning of this weird sound?"
+
+Then for the first time the Palmer broke his silence, and said in reply:
+"It foretells the death of a loved friend."
+
+Utterance, for once, failed the haughty Marmion, whose pride heretofore
+could scarcely brook a word even from his King. His glance fell, his
+brow flushed, for something familiar in the tone or look of the speaker
+so struck the false heart that he was speechless.
+
+Before his troubled imagination rose a vision of the lovely Constance,
+beautiful and pure as when, trusting his treacherous words, she left the
+peaceful walls of her convent. He knew she was now a captive in convent
+cell, and the strange words of the Palmer, added to the song of the
+squire, had made him unhappy. "Alas!" he thought, "would that I had left
+her in purity to live, in holiness to die." Twice he was ready to order,
+"To horse," that he might fly to Lindisfarne and command that not one
+golden ringlet of her fair head be harmed, and twice he thought, "They
+dare not. I gave orders that she should be safe, though not at large."
+
+While thus love and repentance strove in the breast of the lord, the
+landlord began a weird tale, suggested by the speech of the Palmer. As
+Marmion listened, he gathered from the legend that not far from where
+they sat, a knight might learn of future weal or woe. He might,
+perchance, meet "in the charmed ring" his deadliest foe, in the form of
+a spectre, and with it engage in mortal combat. If victorious over this
+supernatural antagonist, the omen was victory in all future
+undertakings.
+
+    "Marmion longed to prove his chance;
+     In charmed ring to break a lance."
+
+The yeomen had drunk deep; the ale was strong, and at a sign from their
+master, all sought rest on the hostel floor before the now dying embers.
+For pillow, under each head, was quiver or targe. The flickering fire
+threw fitful shadows on the strange group. Marmion and his squires
+retired to other quarters. Where the Palmer had disappeared, none knew
+or cared.
+
+Alone, folded in his green mantle and nestling in the hay of a waste
+loft, lay Fitz-Eustace, the pale moonlight falling upon his youthful
+face and form. He was dreaming happy dreams of hawk and hound, of ring
+and glove, of lady's eyes, when suddenly he woke. A tall form, half in
+the moonbeams, half in the gloom, stood beside him; but before he could
+draw his dagger, he recognized the voice of Marmion, who said:
+
+"Fitz-Eustace, rise, and saddle Bevis! I cannot rest. The air must cool
+my brow. I fain would ride to view the elfin scene of chivalry of which
+we heard to-night. Rouse none from their slumbers, for I would not have
+those prating knaves know that I could credit so wild a tale as our
+landlord has told."
+
+Softly down the steps they stole. Eustace led forth the steed arrayed
+for the ride, and Marmion, armed to meet the elfin foe, sprang into the
+saddle. The young squire listened to the resounding hoof-beats as they
+grew more and more faint, and wondered as he fell asleep that one held
+to be so wary, so wise, so incredulous, should ride forth at midnight to
+meet a ghost in mail and plate.
+
+The moon was bright, and as Marmion reached the elfin camp, halting, he
+fearlessly blew his bugle. An answer came, so faint and hollow, that it
+might have been an echo; but suddenly he saw a distinct form appear, a
+mounted champion. The sight of the unexpected foe made to tremble with
+horror him who never had feared knight or noble. His hand so shook, he
+could scarce couch spear aright. The combat began; the two horsemen ran
+their course; and in the third attack Marmion's steed could not resist
+the unearthly shock--he fell, and the flower of England's chivalry
+rolled in the dust.
+
+High over the head of the fallen foe, the supposed spectre shook his
+sword. Full on his face fell the moonlight, a face never to be mistaken.
+It was the wraith of Ralph de Wilton, who had been sent by Marmion to
+exile and to death. Thrice over his victim did the grim, ghast spectre
+shake his blade, but when Marmion, white with terror, prayed for life,
+the seeming vision dashed his sword into its sheath, sprang lightly to
+his saddle, and vanished as he came. The moon sank from sight, and the
+poor, shivering, wretched English knight lay groveling on the plain.
+Could it be his mortal enemy had left the grave to strike down a living
+foe, and to stare in derisive hatred from a raised visor? Whether dead
+or alive, the elfin foe had little reason to spare the life of so
+dastardly an enemy!
+
+Sweetly sleeping, or patiently listening, Eustace waited for the return
+of his knight, waited till he heard a horse coming, spurred to its
+utmost speed. The rider hastily threw the rein to his squire, but spoke
+not a word. In the dim light the youth plainly saw that the armor and
+the falcon crest on his lord's helmet were covered with clay, that the
+knees and sides of the noble charger were in sad plight. It was evident
+the beast and his rider had been overthrown. To broken and brief rest
+Eustace returned and never did he more gladly welcome the light of day.
+
+    "Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark
+     The first notes of the morning lark."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+    "The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew,
+     And loudly Marmion's bugles blew,
+     And with their light and lively call,
+     Brought groom and yeoman to the stall."
+
+Light of heart they came, but soon their mood was changed. Complaint was
+heard on every side. One declared his armor had been used, another that
+his spear had been taken. Young Blount, Marmion's second squire, found
+his steed covered with foam, though the stable boy swore he had left the
+beautiful creature well groomed on the previous evening.
+
+While the impatient squire raged and fumed, old Hubert cried:
+
+"Ho, comrades, help! Bevis lies dying in his stall! To our lord this
+will bring sorrow indeed. Who will dare tell him of the horse he loved
+so well?"
+
+Fitz-Eustace, who knew of the midnight ride, of the condition of horse
+and rider on their return, offered to bear the unwelcome message.
+Marmion, sitting plunged in deep thought, received the tidings unmoved,
+gave little attention, passed the matter as if it were a mere accident
+and ordered the clarions sound "To horse."
+
+Young Blount was less easily dealt with. He declared he would pay no fee
+for food or care. Man or demon, he said, had ridden his steed all night
+and left him in sorry condition for the day's journey. Marmion gave the
+signal to set forth, and led by the calm, gloomy Palmer, they journeyed
+all the morning.
+
+Who can picture the thoughts of Palmer and of knight? Could one have
+looked beneath the Palmer's cowl there might have been seen a smile
+almost sardonic playing upon his features. In passing Blount's horse the
+pious man's thin brown hand stole from beneath the long gown and
+lovingly caressed the animal, while were muttered the words, "Noble,
+noble beast!"
+
+On rode the train through the lovely country, over the smooth
+greensward, and under the vaulted screen of branches.
+
+    "'A pleasant path,' Fitz-Eustace said,
+     'Such as where errant-knights might see
+     Adventures of high chivalry;
+     Might meet some damsel flying fast,
+     With hair unbound, and looks aghast;
+     And smooth and level course were here,
+     In her defence to break a spear."
+
+He spoke to cheer Lord Marmion's mind, but spoke in vain, for no reply
+was given.
+
+Suddenly distant trumpets were heard in prolonged notes over hill and
+dale. Each ready archer seized his bow, and Marmion ordered all to spur
+on to more open ground. Scarce a furlong had they ridden, when, from an
+opposite woodland, they saw approaching a gallant train.
+
+First on prancing steeds came the trumpeters,
+    "With scarlet mantle, azure vest;
+     Each at his trump a banner wore,
+     Which Scotland's royal scutcheon bore:
+     Heralds and pursuivants, by name
+     Bute, Islay, Marchmount, Rothsay, came,
+     In painted tabards, proudly showing
+     Gules argent, or, and azure glowing,
+       Attendant on a king-at-arms,
+     Whose hand the armorial truncheon held,
+     That feudal strife had often quelled,
+       When wildest its alarms."
+
+The king-at-arms was of grave, wise, and manly appearance, as became him
+who bore a king's welcome, but his expression was keen, sly, and
+penetrating.
+
+    "On milk-white palfrey forth he paced;
+     His cap of maintenance was graced
+       With the proud heron-plume.
+     From his steed's shoulder, loin, and breast,
+       Silk housings swept the ground,
+     With Scotland's arms, device, and crest,
+       Embroidered round and round.
+     The double treasure might you see,
+       First by Achaius borne,
+     The thistle and the fleur-de-lis,
+       And gallant unicorn.
+     So bright the King's amorial coat,
+     That scarce the dazzled eye could note.
+     In living colors, blazoned brave,
+     The Lion, which his title gave;
+     A train, which well beseemed his state,
+     But all unarmed, around him wait.
+       Sir David Lindesay of the Mount,
+       Lord Lion, King-at-arms!"
+
+Marmion sprang from his horse, and as soon as their mutual greetings had
+been made, Sir David delivered his message:
+
+"As King-at-arms, I have been sent by James's command to meet you, Lord
+Marmion, and to provide fit lodging, until the King himself shall find
+time to see the famed, the honored Lord of Fontenaye, the flower of
+English chivalry."
+
+Though angry at this reception, Marmion disguised his feelings. The
+Palmer, seeing his place as guide taken by the King's messenger, begged
+to be permitted to leave the service. But orders had been strictly given
+that no one following Marmion should be permitted to separate from the
+English band. They therefore set forth together and at length halted
+before a noble castle on the side of the valley of the Tyne. It was
+Crichtoun Hall, near the city of Edinburgh, and was a lodging meet for
+one of highest rank. Tower after tower rose to view, each built in a
+different age and each displaying a different style of architecture.
+
+    "A mighty mass that could oppose,
+     When deadliest hatred fired its foes."
+
+Through the gate rode the English ambassador, but met by none of the
+rank and file usual on such occasions. Only women, old men, and children
+occupied the castle. The sorrowing mistress of the hall gave welcome,
+and a stripling of twelve years offered his best service. Every man that
+could draw a sword had marched that morning to conquer or to die on
+Flodden Field. Long would the lady look in vain to see her husband and
+his gallant band return.
+
+Here Marmion and his men rested for two days, attended as became a
+King's guest, yet practically a prisoner. This was by the royal command.
+James did not choose that English eyes should look upon Scotland's
+gathering forces until they were ready to march against the foe. When
+Marmion was moody Lindesay's wit cheered; policies of war and of peace
+were discussed, and the lore of Rome and Greece was reviewed.
+
+The second night, as they walked by the fading light on the battlements
+of Crichtoun Castle, Lindesay carelessly remarked that the journey of
+Marmion, the toil of travel, might as well have been spared, for no
+power on earth or from heaven could dissuade James from war. A holy
+messenger sent by divine command had appeared in spirit, and vainly
+counselled the King against the impending conflict.
+
+More closely questioned, Sir David told the following tale:
+
+"When the King was but a lad, a thoughtless prince, traitors had set the
+boy in the army hostile to his royal father. The King, seeing his own
+banner displayed against him, and his son in the opposing faction, lost
+courage, fled from the field, and in fleeing fell and was slain. After
+the battle, James returned to Stirling Castle, seized with deep remorse.
+Ever after, he inflicted upon himself most severe penance.
+
+"While engaged one day in self-imposed penitential devotions, there
+appeared to him, in the chapel of Linlithgow, a vision. At the time,
+around him in their stalls, sat the Knights of the Thistle, chanters
+sung, and bells tolled. The monarch in sackcloth, and wearing the
+painful iron belt which constantly reminded him of his father's death,
+was kneeling in prayer, when there appeared the loved disciple, John,
+who in these words warned the King against warfare:
+
+    "'Sir King, to warn thee not to war--
+        Woe waits on thine array;
+      James Stuart, doubly warn'd, beware,
+        God keep thee as he may!'
+
+"When the King raised his head, the monitor had vanished.
+
+    "'The Marshal and myself had cast
+      To stop him as he outward pass'd;
+      But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast,
+        He vanish'd from our eyes,
+      Like sunbeam on the billow cast
+      That glances but, and dies.'"
+
+While telling the strange story, Sir David had not marked in the dim
+twilight the pallor that had overspread the countenance of Marmion, who,
+after a pause, said:
+
+"Three days ago, I had judged your tale a myth, but since crossing the
+Tweed, I have seen that which makes me credit the miracle you relate."
+
+He hesitated, and evidently wished his remark unmade, but pressed by the
+strong impulse that prompts man to reveal a secret to some listening
+ear, he told of the midnight ride and the tilt with the elfin knight at
+Gifford's Court. The same sly expression crept over the face of the
+King-at-arms as he asked, "Where lodged the Palmer on that fateful
+night?"
+
+Here their conversation was interrupted. By the King's command, each
+train on the following day was to proceed by its own way to Scotland's
+camp, near Edinburgh. Early they set out for the moor surrounding the
+city, where lay the Scotch hosts.
+
+From the crown of Blackford, Marmion gazed on the martial scene. It was
+a Kingdom's vast array. Thousands on thousands of pavilions, white as
+snow, dotted the upland, dale, and down, and checkered the heath between
+town and forest. The relics of the old oaks softened the glaring white
+with a background of restful green.
+
+From north, from south, from east, from west, had gathered Scotland's
+warriors. All between the ages of sixteen and sixty, from king to
+vassal, stood ready to fight for the beloved land. Marmion heard the
+mingled hum of myriads of voices float up the mountain side. He saw the
+shifting lines, and marked the flashing of shield and lance. Nor did he
+mark less that in the air,
+
+    "A thousand streamers flaunted fair,
+       Various in shape, device and hue,
+       Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue,
+     Broad, narrow, swallow-tailed, and square,
+     Scroll, pennon, pensil, bandrol, there
+       O'er the pavilions flew.
+     Highest and midmost, was descried
+     The royal banner floating wide;
+       The staff, a pine-tree, strong and straight,
+     Pitch'd deeply in a massive stone,
+       Yet bent beneath the standard's weight
+       Whene'er the western wind unroll'd,
+       With toil, the huge and cumbrous fold,
+     And gave to view the dazzling field,
+     Where, in proud Scotland's royal shield,
+       The ruddy lion ramped in gold.
+
+    "Lord Marmion view'd the landscape bright,--
+     He viewed it with a chief's delight,--
+       Until within him burn'd his heart,
+         As on the battle-day;
+       Such glance did falcon never dart,
+       When stooping on his prey.
+     'Oh! well, Lord Lion, hast thou said,
+     Thy King from warfare to dissuade
+       Were but a vain essay;
+     For, by St. George, were that host mine,
+     Nor power infernal, nor divine,
+     Should once to peace my soul incline,
+     Till I had dimmed their armor's shine
+       In glorious battle-fray!'"
+
+A bard near at hand replied:
+
+    "'Tis better to sit still, than rise, perchance to fall."
+
+From this scene of preparation for battle, their eyes wandered to the
+fairest scene of peace. The distant city glowed in gloomy splendor. The
+sun's morning beams tinged turret and tower. The wreaths of rising smoke
+turned to clouds of red and gold. Dusky grandeur clothed the height
+where the huge castle stood in state. Far to the north, ridge on ridge,
+rose the mountains, the rosy morning light bathing their sides in floods
+of sunshine, and turning each heather bell at their feet into an
+amethyst. Yonder could be seen the shores of Fife, nearer Preston Bay
+and Berwick. Between them rolled the broad Firth, islands floating on
+its bosom like emeralds on a chain of gold.
+
+    "Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent;
+     As if to give his rapture vent,
+     The spur he to his charger lent,
+       And raised his bridle hand,
+     And making demivolte in air,
+     Cried, 'Where's the coward that would not dare
+       To fight for such a land!'"
+
+While they gazed the time arrived for King James to take his way to a
+solemn mass. The distant bells chimed the hour, the fife, the sackbut,
+the psaltery, the cymbal, the war-pipe, in discordant cry took up the
+note, and together the sounds rolled up the hillside.
+
+Sir David sighed as he listened.
+
+"I look," he said, "upon this city, Empress of the North, her palaces,
+her castles, her stately halls, her holy towers, and think what war's
+mischance may bring. These silvery bells may toll the knell of our
+gallant King. We must not dream that conquest is sure or easily bought.
+God is ruler of the battlefield, but when yon host begins the combat,
+wives, mothers, and maids may weep, and priests prepare the death
+service, for when such a power is led out by such a King, not all will
+return."
+
+[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, DRYBURGH ABBEY.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Lindesay now bade the guard open the palisade that closed the tented
+field, and as into its ample bounds Marmion passed, the warders' men
+drew back. The Scottish warriors stared at the strangers, and envy arose
+at seeing them so well appointed. Such length of shaft, bows so mighty,
+had never been seen by northern eyes. Little did the Highlanders then
+think to feel these shafts through links of Scotch mail on Flodden
+Field.
+
+No less did Marmion and his men marvel that one small country could
+marshal forth such hosts. Men-at-arms were heavily sheathed in mail.
+They were like iron towers on Flemish steeds. Young squires and knights
+practiced their chargers on the plain to pass, to wheel, to curvet, that
+the swords of their riders might not descend amiss on foeman's casque.
+Hardy burghers were there, marching on foot. No waving plume, no crest
+they wore, but corselet, gorget, and brigantine, brightly burnished. The
+yeomen, too, were on foot, yet dressed in steel. Each at his back
+carried forty days' provisions. His arms were the halbert, axe, or
+spear, a crossbow, a dagger, or a sword. Each seemed almost sad at
+leaving the dear cottage, the simple pleasures and duties of home, to
+march into a foreign land. It was not cowardice, not terror, for the
+more they loved Scotland the more fiercely would they fight.
+
+Quite another class was the Borderer, bred to war. He joyed to hear the
+roar of battle. No harp, no lute, could please his ear as did the loud
+slogan. Nobles might fight for fame, vassals might follow, burghers
+might guard their townships, but to a battle the Borderer joyfully took
+his way as to a game, scarce caring who might win the day.
+
+Marmion next viewed the Celtic race. Each tribe had its own chief, its
+belted plaid, its warpipes varying with the clan. Their legs were bare;
+the undressed hide of the deer gave them buskins, a plaid covered the
+shoulders, and a broadsword, a dagger, a studded targe, completed the
+outfit.
+
+Through the Scottish camp, the English train had now passed, and the
+city gates were reached. The streets were alive with martial show. The
+Lion King led to lodgings that overlooked the town. Here Marmion, by the
+King's command, was to remain until the vesper hour and then to ride to
+Holy-Rood. Meanwhile Sir David ordered a banquet rich and rare.
+
+At the hour appointed, Marmion, attended by the Lion-Lord, arrived at
+the palace hall, at Holy-Rood. In this princely abode James was feasting
+the chiefs of Scotland. The historic halls rang with mirth, for well the
+monarch loved song and banquet. By day the tourney was held, at night
+the mazy dance was trod by quaint maskers. The scene of this night
+outshone all others. The dazzling lights hanging from the galleries,
+displayed the grace of lords and ladies of the court. The "motley fool"
+retailed his jest, the juggler performed his feat, the minstrel plied
+his harp, and the lady touched a softer string.
+
+All made room as through this throng the King came to greet his guest.
+And now, his courtesy to show,
+
+    "He doff'd to Marmion, bending low,
+       His broider'd cap and plume.
+     For royal was his garb and mien,
+       His cloak, of crimson velvet piled,
+       Trimm'd with the fur of martin wild;
+     His gorgeous collar hung adown,
+     Wrought with the badge of Scotland's crown,
+     The thistle brave, of old renown:
+     His trusty blade, Toledo right,
+     Descended from a baldric bright;
+     White were his buskins, on the heel,
+     His spurs inlaid of gold and steel:
+     His bonnet, all of crimson fair,
+     Was buttoned with a ruby rare:
+     And Marmion deemed he ne'er had seen
+     A prince of such a noble mien."
+
+His splendid form, his eagle eyes, his light footstep, his merry laugh
+and speaking glance made him envied of men and adored of women. He joyed
+to linger in banquet bower, but often in the midst of wildest glee, a
+shadow and an expression of pain flitted across the handsome face. His
+hands instinctively clasped as he felt the pain of the penance belt,
+worn in memory of his slain father. In a moment the pang was past, and
+forward, with redoubled zest, he rushed into the stream of revelry.
+
+Courtiers said that Lady Heron, wife of Sir Hugh of Norham, held sway
+over the heart of the King. To Scotland's court she had come to be a
+hostage, and to reconcile the offended King to her husband. The fair
+Queen of France also held the king in thrall. She had sent him a
+turquoise ring and a glove, and charged him as her knight in English
+fray, to break for her a lance. For love of the French Queen, as much as
+for the rights of Scotland, he clothed himself in mail and put his
+country's noblest, dearest, and best in arms, to die on Flodden Field.
+For Love of Lady Heron, he admitted English spies to his inmost
+counsels.
+
+    "And thus, for both, he madly planned
+     The ruin of himself and land."
+
+For these two artful women he sacrificed the true happiness of his home.
+
+    "Nor England's fair, nor France's Queen,
+     Were worth one pearl-drop bright and sheen,
+       From Margaret's eyes that fell,--
+     His own Queen Margaret, who, in Lithgow's bower
+     All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour."
+
+In gay Holy-Rood, Dame Heron, Lady of Norham, smiled at the King,
+glanced archly at the courtiers, and ably played the coquette. When
+asked to draw from the harp music to charm the ring of admirers, she
+laughed, blushed, and with pretty oaths, by yea and nay, declared she
+could not, would not, dare not! At length, however, she seated herself
+at Scotland's loved instrument, touched and tuned the strings, laid
+aside hood and wimple, the better to display her charms, and with a
+borrowed simplicity well assumed, sang a lively air, Lochinvar.
+
+    "Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
+     Through all the wild border his steed was the best;
+     And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had none,
+     He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone;
+     So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
+     There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
+
+    "He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone;
+     He swam the Esk river, where ford there was none;
+     But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
+     The bride had consented, the gallant came late;
+     For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
+     Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
+
+    "So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
+     Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
+     Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
+     For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,
+     'O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
+     Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?'
+
+    "'I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;
+     Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide--
+     And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
+     To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
+     There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
+     That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.'
+
+    "The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up,
+     He quaff'd off the wine, and threw down the cup,
+     She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
+     With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye,
+     He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,--
+     'Now tread we a measure!' said young Lochinvar.
+
+    "So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
+     That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
+     While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
+     And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
+     And the bride's-maidens whisper'd, ''Twere better by far
+     To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.'
+
+    "One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
+     When they reach'd the hall door, and the charger stood near;
+     So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
+     So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
+     'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
+     They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochinvar.
+
+    "There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
+     Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
+     There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
+     But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
+     So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
+     Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?"
+
+The monarch hung over the wily singer, and beat the measure as she sang.
+He pressed closer, and whispered praises in her ear. The courtiers broke
+in applause, the ladies whispered, and looked wise. The witching dame,
+not satisfied to win a King, threw her glances at Lord Marmion. The
+glances were significant, familiar, and told of confidences long and old
+between the English lord and his countrywoman, guests of a Scotch King,
+on the eve of a great conflict between the two countries.
+
+The King saw their meeting eyes, saw himself treated almost with
+disdain, and darkest anger shook his frame, for sovereigns illy bear
+rivals in word, or smile, or look. He drew forth the parchment on which
+was written Marmion's commission, and strode to the side of brave
+Douglas, the sixth who had worn the coronet of Angus. The King stood
+side by side with this brave Scotsman, who had been madly watching the
+pageant, the fire flashing from his stern eye. This very day he had
+besought his King to withdraw from the coming war, only to call forth
+the reproaches of his ungrateful ruler. Yet at this moment, James felt a
+pride in standing by the side of Bothwell's Lord, and placing in his
+custody Marmion, the flower of English chivalry.
+
+    "The Douglas' form, like ruin'd tower,
+     Seem'd o'er the gaudy scene to lower:
+     His locks and beard in silver grew;
+     His eyebrows kept their sable hue.
+     Near Douglas, where the monarch stood,
+     His bitter speech he thus pursued:
+     'Lord Marmion, since these letters say
+     That in the North you needs must stay
+       While slightest hopes of peace remain,
+     Uncourteous speech it were, and stern,
+     To say--Return to Lindisfarne--
+     Then rest you in Tantallon Hold;
+     Your host shall be the Douglas bold,
+     A chief unlike his sires of old.
+     He wears their motto on his blade,
+     Their blazon o'er his towers display'd;
+     Yet loves his sovereign to oppose,
+     More than to face his country's foes.
+       And, I bethink me, by St. Stephen,
+     But e'en this morn to me was given
+     A prize, the first fruits of the war,
+     Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar,
+       A bevy of the maids of Heaven.
+     Under your guard these holy maids
+     Shall safe return to cloister shades.'"
+
+The proud heart of Douglas felt the keen thrust. It was true, he would
+not, even for the King he devotedly loved, draw sword in an unholy
+cause. As a burning tear stole down his scarred cheek, he turned aside
+to conceal what might seem weakness. This sight the king could not bear,
+and seizing the hand of Angus, exclaimed:
+
+    "'Now, by the Bruce's soul,
+      Angus, my hasty speech forgive!
+        I well may say of you,--
+      That never king did subject hold,
+      In speech more free, in war more bold,
+      More tender and more true:
+      Forgive me, Douglas, once again!'"
+
+While monarch and man embraced, while the aged noble's tears fell like
+rain, Marmion seized the moment to restore himself to favor with both,
+and whispered half aloud to the King:
+
+    "'Oh! let such tears unwonted plead
+      For respite short from dubious deed!
+      A child will weep a bramble's smart,
+      A maid to see her sparrow part,
+      A stripling for a woman's heart:
+      But woe awaits a country when
+      She sees the tears of bearded men.
+      Then, oh! what omen, dark and high,
+      When Douglas wets his manly eye!'"
+
+That a stranger should see his changing moods, and above all, should
+presume to tamper therewith, aroused in James the fierce spirit of
+revenge. Said the fiery monarch:
+
+    "'Laugh those that can, weep those that may,
+      Southward I march by break of day;
+      And if within Tantallon strong
+      The good Lord Marmion tarries long,
+      Perchance our meeting next may fall
+      At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.'"
+
+Marmion felt the taunt, and answered gravely: "My humble home would be
+much honored if King James should visit its halls, but Nottingham has as
+true archers as e'er drew bow, and Yorkshire men are stern and brave.
+
+    "'And many a banner will be torn,
+      And many a knight to earth be borne,
+      And many a sheaf of arrows spent,
+      Ere Scotland's King shall cross the Trent.'"
+
+Scornfully the Monarch turned away, and commanded the gayeties to
+proceed. He flung aside cloak and sword, and gallantly led Dame Heron in
+the dance, as the minstrels, at the King's command, struck up "Blue
+Bonnets o'er the Border."
+
+[Illustration: SCOTT'S MONUMENT, EDINBURGH.]
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+Now we leave the royal revels, and return to Saint Hilda and her maids.
+As they sailed back to Whitby, their galley was captured on the high
+seas by the Scotch, and the ladies were held at Edinburgh until James
+should decide their fate.
+
+Soon, however, they were informed that they must prepare to journey to
+England, under the escort of Lord Marmion. At this, terror seized the
+heart of the Abbess and of Clara. The aged, saintly lady knew the fate
+of Constance, and for this, feared Lord Marmion's wrath. She told her
+beads, she implored heaven!
+
+The Lady Clara knew the sword that hung from Marmion's belt had drawn
+the blood of her lover, Ralph De Wilton! Unwittingly the King had given
+these defenceless women into the care of the man they most dreaded. To
+protest was hopeless. In the bustle of war, who would listen to the tale
+of a woman and a nun?
+
+The maids and the Abbess were assigned lodgings joining those of
+Marmion, their guardian. While there, the unhappy, but alert, holy woman
+caught sight of the Palmer. His dress made her feel that she would here
+find a friend. Secretly she conveyed to him a message, saying she had a
+secret to reveal immediately concerning the welfare of the church, and
+of a sinner's soul.
+
+With great secrecy she named as a meeting place, an open balcony, that
+hung high above the street.
+
+Night fell; the moon rose high among the clouds; the busy hum of the
+city ceased; the din of war and warriors' roar was hushed. The music of
+the cricket, the whirr of the owlets, might easily have been heard, when
+the holy Dame and the Palmer met. The Abbess had chosen a solemn hour,
+to disclose a solemn secret.
+
+"O holy Palmer!" she began,--"for surely he must be holy whose feet have
+trod the ground made sacred by a Redeemer's tomb,--I come here in this
+dread hour, for the dear sake of our Holy Church. Yet I must first
+speak, in explanation of a worldly love." Here was related by unwilling
+lips, the story of Constance's fall, of De Wilton's death or exile after
+being proved a traitor, of Lady Clara's faithfulness to the memory of De
+Wilton, and of her desire to enter the convent of the Abbess.
+
+    "'A purer heart, a lovelier maid,
+      Ne'er shelter'd her in Whitby's shade.'
+
+"Yet, King Henry declares she shall be torn from us, and given to this
+false Lord Marmion. I am helpless, a prisoner, with these innocent
+maidens, and I fear we have been betrayed by Henry, that Clara may fall
+into the hands of his favorite. I claim thine aid.
+
+    "'By every step that thou hast trod
+      To holy shrine and grotto dim,
+      By every saint and seraphim,
+        And by the Church of God!
+      For mark: When Wilton was betrayed,'
+
+"it was by means of forged letters,--letters written by Constance de
+Beverley, at the command of Marmion, and placed, by De Wilton's squire,
+where they could be used against that noble knight.
+
+"I have in my possession letters proving all this and more. I must not
+keep them. Who knows what may happen to me on my homeward journey? I now
+give this packet to thy care, O saintly Palmer! Bring them safe to the
+hands of Wolsey, that he may give them to the King, and for this deed
+there will be prayers offered for thee while I live. Why! What ailest
+thou? Speak!"
+
+As he took the packet, he was shaken by strong emotion, but before he
+could reply, the Abbess shrieked, "What is here? Look at yon City
+Cross!"
+
+    "Then on its battlements they saw
+     A vision, passing Nature's law."
+
+Figures seemed to rise and die, to advance and to flee, and from the
+midst of the spectre throng this awful summons came:--"Prince, prelate,
+potentate and peer, I summon one and all to answer at my tribunal."
+
+    "Then thunder'd forth a roll of names:
+     The first was thine, unhappy James!
+       Then all thy nobles came;
+     Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle,
+     Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle,
+     Why should I tell their separate style?
+       Each chief of birth and fame,
+     Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle,
+     Foredoomed to Flodden's carnage pile,
+       Was cited there by name;
+     And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye.
+
+    "Prone on her face the Abbess fell,
+     And fast, and fast, her beads did tell;
+     She mark'd not, at the scene aghast,
+     What time, or how, the Palmer pass'd."
+
+The following day, Marmion and the brave Douglas journeyed to fair
+Tantallon. The Palmer still was with the band, as Angus commanded that
+no one should roam at large. A wondrous change had come to the holy
+Palmer. He freely spoke of war; he looked so high, and rode so fast,
+that old Hubert said he never saw but one who could sit so proud, and
+rein so well.
+
+A half hour's march behind, came Fitz-Eustace, escorting the Abbess, the
+fair Lady Clare, and all the nuns.
+
+Marmion had sought no audience, fearing to increase Clara's hatred. He
+preferred to wait until she was removed from the convent and in her
+uncle's care. He hoped then, with the influence of her kinsman and her
+King, to gain her consent to be the Lady Marmion. He longed to command,
+
+    "O'er luckless Clara's ample land,"
+
+yet he hated himself when he thought of the meanness to which he stooped
+for conquest, when he remembered his own lost honor; for,
+
+    "If e'er he lov'd, 'twas her alone,
+     Who died within that vault of stone."
+
+Near Berwick town they came upon a venerable convent pile, and halted at
+its gate. In answer to the bell, a door opened, and an aged dame
+appeared to ask St. Hilda's Abbess to rest here with her nuns until a
+barque was provided to bear her back to Whitby.
+
+The courtesy of the Scottish Prioress was most joyfully received, and
+the delighted maidens gladly left their palfreys; but when Lady Clara
+attempted to dismount, Fitz-Eustace gently refused, saying:
+
+"I grieve, fair lady, to separate you from your friends. Think it no
+discourtesy of mine, but lords' commands must be obeyed, and Marmion and
+Douglas order that you shall return directly to your kinsman,
+Lord Fitz-Clare."
+
+The startled Abbess loud exclaimed, but Clara was speechless and deadly
+pale.
+
+"Cheer thee, my child!" the Abbess cried; "they dare not tear thee from
+my care, to ride alone among soldiers."
+
+"Nay, nay, holy mother," interrupted Fitz-Eustace, "the lovely lady,
+while in Scotland, will be the immediate ward of Lady Angus Douglas, and
+when she rides to England, female attendance will be provided befitting
+the heir of Gloster. My Lord Marmion will not address Lady Clare by word
+or look."
+
+He blushed as he spoke, but truth and honor were painted in his face,
+and the maiden's fear was relieved. The Abbess entreated, threatened,
+wept, prayed to saint and to martyr, then called upon the Prioress for
+aid. The grave Cistercian replied:
+
+"The King and Douglas shall be obeyed. Dream not that harm can come to
+woman, however helpless, who falls to the care of Douglas of Tantallon
+Hall."
+
+The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, assumed her wonted state, composed
+her veil, raised her head, and began again,--but Blount now broke in:
+
+    "'Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band;
+      St. Anton fire thee! wilt thou stand
+      All day, with bonnet in thy hand,
+        To hear the lady preach?
+      By this good light! if thus we stay,
+      Lord Marmion, for our fond delay,
+        Will sharper sermon teach.
+      Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse;
+      The dame must patience take perforce."
+
+"Dear, holy Abbess," said Clare, "we must submit to the separation for
+the present,
+
+    "'But let this barbarous lord despair
+      His purposed aim to win;
+      Let him take living, land, and life;
+      But to be Marmion's wedded wife
+        In me were deadly sin.'
+
+"Mother, your blessing and your prayers are all I ask. Remember your
+unhappy child! If it be the decree of the King that I return not to the
+sanctuary with thee to dwell, yet one asylum remains--low, silent, and
+lone, where kings have little power. One victim of Lord Marmion is
+already there."
+
+Weeping and wailing arose round patient Clare. Eustace hid his tears,
+and even the rude Blount could scarce bear the sight. Gently the squire
+took the rein and led the way, striving to cheer the poor fainting girl,
+by courteous word and deed.
+
+They had passed but a few miles, when from a height, they saw the vast
+towers of Tantallon. The noble castle was enclosed on three sides by the
+ocean, and on the fourth by walled battlements,
+
+    "And double mound and fosse,
+     By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong,
+     Through studded gates, and entrance long,
+       To the main court they cross.
+     It was a wide and stately square:
+     Around were lodgings, fit and fair,
+       And towers of various form."
+
+Here they rested, receiving from the host cold, but princely attention.
+By hurrying posts, daily there came varying tidings of war. At first
+they heard of the victories of James at Wark, at Etall, and at Ford; and
+then, that Norham castle had been taken; but later, news was whispered
+that while King James was dallying the time away with the wily Lady
+Heron, the army lay inactive. At length they heard the army had made
+post on the ridge that frowns over the Millfield Plain, and that brave
+Surrey, with a force from the South, had marched into Northumberland and
+taken camp.
+
+At this, Marmion exclaimed:
+
+    "'A sorry thing to hide my head
+      In castle, like a fearful maid,
+        When such a field is near!
+      Needs must I see this battle-day:
+      Death to my fame if such a fray
+      Were fought, and Marmion away!
+      The Douglas, too, I wot not why,
+      Hath 'bated of his courtesy:
+      No longer in his halls I'll stay."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Each hour brought a different tale. Marmion fretted like the impatient
+charger that "snuffs the battle from afar." It was true that Douglas had
+changed in his demeanor, had grown cold and silent. The dejected Clare
+sought retirement. Courteous she was to Lady Angus, shared in ceaseless
+prayers for the safe return of Scotch liege and lord, but borne down
+with sorrow, she loved best to find some lonely spot, turret, tower, or
+parapet, where she might retire alone to listen to the wailing waters,
+to hear the sea-bird's cry, to recall her life at the Convent of Whitby,
+and to regret the loss of the loved garb of the nun. At the command of
+her kinsman, the Benedictine dress, the hood and veil, so much in
+harmony with her life, had been denied her, and she had been made to
+assume the costume of the world.
+
+Her sunny locks were again unbound, and rich garments were provided,
+suited to her rank. Of the holy dress, the cross alone she was permitted
+to wear,--a golden cross set with rubies; but in her hand she always
+bore the loved breviary.
+
+Pacing back and forth at evening, sick with sorrow, she came suddenly
+upon a full suit of armor. It lay directly in her path--the targe, the
+corselet, the helm, the pierced breastplate. She raised her eyes in
+alarm, and before her stood De Wilton, but so changed it might have been
+his ghost. The Palmer's dress was thrown aside, the dress of the knight
+not resumed. He was neither king's noble, nor priest. Not until he had
+been proven innocent of treason, and redubbed knight, could he honorably
+wear his spurs.
+
+Long was the interview held between the astonished, delighted Clare, and
+the undisguised De Wilton. He began the story of his exile and travels,
+taking up the tale from the moment when he lay senseless in the lists at
+Cottiswold. The kind care of Austin, the beadsman, had restored him to
+health and strength. He described the long journeys in Palmer's dress,
+his return to Scotland, meeting Marmion at Norham Castle, the tilt on
+Gifford moor, and the interview with the Abbess, when he received from
+her the letters proving his innocence.
+
+Already, at Tantallon, he had told his story to Douglas, who had known
+De Wilton's family of old. That night, Douglas was to make him again a
+belted knight, and at dawn, he would haste to Surrey's camp to fight
+again for king and for country. The story heard from De Wilton, the
+letters showing the treachery of Marmion, accounted for the cold disdain
+shown by Douglas to his guest.
+
+The noble baron of Tantallon had promised to bring to the chapel at
+midnight the now happy, yet unhappy Clare, that she might bind on the
+spurs, buckle on the belt, and hear the magic words uttered which made
+her lover a noble knight. She was unhappy to think that so soon they
+must part, perhaps never to meet.
+
+Sweetly, tearfully she pleaded:
+
+    "'O Wilton! must we then
+      Risk new-found happiness again,
+        Trust fate of arms once more?
+      And is there not a humble glen,
+        Where we content and poor,
+      Might build a cottage in the shade,
+      A shepherd thou, and I to aid
+        Thy task on dale and moor?--
+      That reddening brow!--too well I know,
+      Not even thy Clare can peace bestow,
+        While falsehood stains thy name:
+      Go then to fight! Clare bids thee go!
+      Clare can a warrior's feelings know,
+        And weep a warrior's shame;
+      Buckle the spurs upon thy heel,
+      And belt thee with thy brand of steel,
+        And send thee forth to fame!'"
+
+At midnight, the slumbering moon-beams lay on rock and wave. Silvery
+light fell through every loop-hole and embrasure. In the witching hour
+two priests, the Lady Clare, Ralph de Wilton, and Douglas, Lord of
+Tantallon, stood before the altar of the chapel. De Wilton knelt, and
+when Clare had bound on sword and belt, Douglas laid on the blow,
+exclaiming as it fell:
+
+    "'I dub thee knight.
+      Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton's heir!
+      For King, for Church, for Lady fair,
+        See that thou fight.'"
+
+De Wilton knelt again before the giant warrior, and grasping his hand,
+exclaimed:
+
+"Where'er I meet a Douglas, that Douglas will be to me as a brother."
+
+"Nay, nay," the Lord of Tantallon replied, "not so; I have two sons in
+the field armed against your king. They fight for James of Scotland; you
+for Henry of England.
+
+    "'And, if thou meet'st them under shield,
+      Upon them bravely,--do thy worst;
+      And foul fall him that blenches first!"
+
+They parted; De Wilton to Surrey's camp, the Douglas to his castle to
+ponder on the strange events of the past few days, and Clare to weep in
+loneliness.
+
+It was yet early when Marmion ordered his train to be ready for the
+southward march. He had safe pass-ports for all, given under the royal
+seal of James. Douglas provided a guide as far as Surrey's camp. The
+ancient earl, with stately grace, placed the Lady Clare on her palfrey
+and whispered in her ear, "The falcon's prey has flown."
+
+As adieus were about to be said, Lord Marmion began:
+
+"In the treatment received, I, your guest, by your king's command, might
+well complain of coldness, indifference, and disrespect; but I let it
+pass, hoping that,
+
+    "'Part we in friendship from your land;
+      And, noble Earl, receive my hand.'--
+      But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
+      Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:--
+     'My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still
+      Be open, at my sovereign's will,
+      To each one who he lists, howe'er
+      Unmeet to be the owner's peer.
+      My castles are my King's alone,
+      From turret to foundation-stone--
+      The hand of Douglas is his own;
+      And never shall in friendly grasp,
+      The hand of such as Marmion clasp.'"--
+
+     "Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
+      And shook his very frame for ire,
+        And,--'This to me!' he said,--
+     'An 'twere not for thy hoary beard,
+      Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
+        To cleave the Douglas' head!
+      And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
+      He, who does England's message here,
+      Although the meanest in her state,
+      May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:
+        Even in thy pitch of pride,
+      Here in thy hold, thy vassals near--
+        I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
+      And if thou said'st, I am not peer
+      To any lord in Scotland here,
+        Lord Angus, thou hast lied!'
+      On the Earl's cheek, a flush of rage
+      O'ercame the ashen hue of age:
+      Fierce he broke forth,--And dare'st thou then
+      To beard the lion in his den,
+        The Douglas in his hall?
+      And hop'st thou thence unscathed to go?--Up
+      drawbridge, grooms--what, Warder, ho!
+        Let the portcullis fall.'
+      Lord Marmion turned--well was his need,
+      And dash'd the rowels in his steed."
+
+A swallow does not more lightly skim the air, than Marmion's steed flew
+along the drawbridge. The man drew rein when he had reached the train,
+turned, clenched his fists, shouted defiance, and shook his gauntlet at
+the towers where so lately he had been a guest.
+
+"To horse! to horse!" cried Douglas. "Let the chase be up." Then
+relenting, he smiled bitterly, saying, "He came a royal messenger. Bold
+can he talk and fairly ride, and I doubt not he will fight well."
+
+Slowly the Earl sought the castle walls, that frowned still more
+gloomily, no longer brightened by the young and beautiful Lady Clare.
+
+As the day wore on, Marmion's passion wore off, and scanning his little
+band, he missed the Palmer. From young Blount he demanded an explanation
+of the guide's absence.
+
+"The Palmer, in good sooth, parted from Douglas at dawn of day. If a
+Palmer he is, he set out in strange guise," replied the youth.
+
+"What mean you?" quickly demanded Marmion.
+
+"My Lord, I can ill interpret what I say. All night I was disturbed in
+my sleep, as if by workmen forging armor. At dawn, hearing the
+drawbridge fall, I looked from a loophole and saw old Bell-the-Cat,
+wrapped in sables, come from Tantallon keep. The wind blew aside the fur
+mantle, and I beheld beneath it, a suit of rusty mail, which I am sure
+must have done bloody work against Saracen and Turk. Last night that
+armor did not hang in Tantallon hall. Next, I saw Old Cheviot, Douglas's
+matchless steed, led forth, sheathed in bright armor. The Palmer sprang
+to the saddle, Lord Angus wished him speed, and as he bowed and bent in
+graceful farewells, I could but think how strongly that Palmer resembled
+the young knight you overthrew at Cottiswold."
+
+A sudden light broke upon Marmion. "Dastard! fool! I, to reason lost,
+when I rode to meet a fay, a ghost, on Gifford's moor. It was this
+Palmer fiend, De Wilton in disguise, I met. Had I but fought as is my
+wont, one thrust had placed him where he would never cross my path
+again. Now he has told my tale to Douglas. This is why I was treated
+with scorn. I almost fear to meet my Lord Surrey. I must avoid the Lady
+Clare, and separate Constance from the nuns.
+
+    "O, what a tangled web we weave,
+     When first we practice to deceive!
+     A Palmer too!--no wonder why
+     I felt rebuked beneath his eye:
+     I might have known there was but one
+     Whose look could quell Lord Marmion!"
+
+Stung with these thoughts, he urged on his troop, and at nightfall
+reached the Tweed, closing the march of the day at Lennel convent. Here
+Marmion, his train, and Lady Clare, were given entertainment for the
+night.
+
+    "'Next morn, the baron climb'd the tower,
+      To view afar the Scottish power,
+        Encamped on Flodden edge:
+      The white pavilions made a show,
+      Like remnants of the winter snow,
+        Along the dusky ridge.
+      Lord Marmion look'd:--at length his eye
+      Unusual movement might descry.
+      Their ranks inclining, wheeling, bending,
+      Now drawing back, and now descending,
+      The skilful Marmion well could know,
+      They watched the motions of some foe."
+
+Even so it was. The Scots from Flodden ridge saw the English host leave
+Barmore-wood and cross the river Till. Why did Scotland's hosts stand
+idle? What checked the fiery James, that he sat inactive on his steed
+and saw Surrey place the English army between Scotland and Scotland's
+army? O Douglas! O Wallace! O Bruce! for one hour of thy leadership to
+rule the fight! The precious hour passed,--the hour when in crossing the
+river, the English might have been destroyed.
+
+    "From fate's dark book a leaf been torn,
+     And Flodden had been Bannockbourne!"
+
+Fitz-Eustace called to Blount, and both to Marmion,
+
+    "'Lord Surrey's o'er the Till!'"
+
+The spirit of war flowed in every vein. Marmion flung himself into the
+saddle, scarce bade adieu to the good Abbot, commanded the young knight
+to escort the Lady Clare, and dashed on to the Tweed. The river must be
+crossed. Down to the deep and dangerous ford, he ventured desperately.
+Foremost of all, he gallantly entered and stemmed the tide. Eustace held
+Clare upon her saddle, and old Hubert reined her horse. Stoutly they
+braved the current, and though carried far down the stream, they gained
+the opposite bank.
+
+The train followed. Each held his bow high over his head, and well he
+might. Every string that day needed to be unharmed by moisture, that it
+might ring sharply in the coming combat.
+
+Marmion rested a moment, only to bathe his horse, then halted not until
+Surrey's rear guard was reached. Here on a hillock, by a cross of stone,
+they could survey the field.
+
+    "The hillock gain'd, Lord Marmion stayed:
+    'Here, by this cross,' he gently said,
+    'You well may view the scene.
+     Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:
+     Oh! think of Marmion in thy prayer!
+     Thou wilt not? well,--no less my care
+     Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.
+     You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,
+       With ten picked archers of my train;
+     With England if the day go hard,
+       To Berwick speed amain.
+     But if we conquer, cruel maid,
+     My spoils shall at your feet be laid,
+       When here we meet again."
+
+He waited for no answer, but dashed over the plain to Lord Surrey, who
+met him with delight.
+
+"Welcome, good Lord Marmion; brief greeting must serve in time of need.
+With Stanley, I myself, have charge of the central division of the army,
+Tunstall, stainless knight, directs the rearward, and the vanguard alone
+needs your gallant command."
+
+"Thanks, noble Surrey," Marmion said, and darted forward like a
+thunderbolt. At the van, arose cheer on cheer, "Marmion! Marmion!" so
+shrill, so high, as to startle the Scottish foe.
+
+Eustace and Blount sadly thought,
+
+    "'Unworthy office here to stay!
+      No hope of gilded spurs to-day.'"
+
+When King James saw that the English army by its skilful countermarch
+had separated him from his base of supplies, and from his own country,
+he resolved upon battle at once. Setting fire to his tents, he
+descended, and the two armies, one facing north, the other south, met
+almost without seeing each other.
+
+    "From the sharp ridges of the hill,
+     All downward to the banks of Till,
+       Was wreathed in sable smoke.
+     Volumed and fast, and rolling far,
+     The cloud enveloped Scotland's war,
+       As down the hill they broke;
+     Nor mortal shout, nor minstrel tone,
+     Announced their march; their tread alone
+     Told England, from his mountain-throne
+       King James did rushing come.
+     Scarce could they hear or see their foes,
+       Until at weapon-point they close.
+     They close, in clouds of smoke and dust,
+     With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust;
+       And such a yell was there,
+     Of sudden and portentous birth,
+     As if men fought upon the earth,
+       And fiends in upper air;
+     Oh, life and death were in the shout,
+     Recoil and rally, charge and rout,
+       And triumph and despair.
+     Long look'd the anxious squires; their eye
+     Could in the darkness naught descry."
+
+At length the breeze threw aside the shroud of battle, and there might
+be seen ridge after ridge of spears. Pennon and plume floated like foam
+on the crest of the wave. Spears shook; falchions flashed; arrows fell
+like rain; crests rose, and stooped, and rose again.
+
+    "Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew
+     With wavering flight, while fiercer grew
+       Around the battle-yell.
+     The Border slogan rent the sky!
+     A Home! a Gordon! was the cry:
+     Loud were the clanging blows;
+     Advanced--forced back--now low, now high,
+       The pennon sunk and rose;
+     As bends the barque's mast in the gale,
+     When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail,
+       It waver'd 'mid the foes.
+     No longer Blount the view could bear:
+    'By heaven and all its saints! I swear,
+       I will not see it lost;
+     Fitz-Eustace, you with Lady Clare
+     May bid your beads, and patter prayer,--
+       I gallop to the host.'"
+
+To the fray he rode, followed by the archers. At the next moment, fleet
+as the wind, Marmion's steed riderless flew by, the housings and saddle
+dyed crimson. Eustace mounted and plunged into the fight, resolved to
+rescue the body of his fallen lord.
+
+Alone, in that dreadful hour, a courage not her own armed the gentle
+girl with strength to play a noble part. She was thinking only of De
+Wilton, when two horsemen drenched with human gore, rode up, bearing a
+wounded knight, his shield bent, his helmet gone. He yet bore in his
+hand a broken brand. Could this be Marmion? Blount unlaced the armor;
+Eustace removed the casque; revived by the free air, Marmion cried:
+
+"Fitz-Eustace, Blount,
+
+    "'Redeem my pennon,--charge again!
+      Cry,--"Marmion to the rescue!"
+       'Must I bid twice?--hence, varlets! fly!
+        Leave Marmion here alone,--to die.'
+        They parted, and alone he lay;
+        Clare drew her from the sight away,
+      Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan,
+      And half he murmur'd--'Is there none,
+        Of all my halls have nursed,
+      Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring
+      Of blessed water from the spring,
+        To slake my dying thirst!'"
+
+     "O Woman! in our hours of ease,
+      Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
+      And variable as the shade
+      By the light quivering aspen made;
+      When pain and anguish wring the brow,
+      A ministering angel thou!
+      Scarce were the piteous accents said,
+      When, with the baron's casque, the maid
+        To the nigh streamlet ran:
+      Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears;
+      The plaintive voice alone she hears,
+      Sees but the dying man."
+
+She stooped by the side of the rill, but drew back in horror,--it ran
+red with the best blood of two kingdoms. Near by, a fountain played, the
+well of Sybil Grey. At this, the helmet was quickly filled, and
+accompanied by a monk, who was present to shrive the dying or to bless
+the dead, the Lady Clare hurried to the side of Marmion. Deep he drank,
+saying:
+
+"Is it the hand of Constance or of Clare that bathes my brow? Speak not
+to me of shrift and prayer; while the spark of life lasts, I must
+redress the wrongs of Constance."
+
+Between broken sobs the Lady Clare replied:
+
+    "'In vain for Constance is your zeal;
+      She--died at Holy Isle.'"
+
+Lord Marmion started from the ground, but fainting fell, supported by
+the monk.
+
+The din of war ceased for a moment, then there swelled upon the gale the
+cry, "Stanley! Stanley!"
+
+    "A light on Marmion's visage spread,
+       And fired his glazing eye:
+     With dying hand, above his head,
+     He shook the fragment of his blade,
+       And shouted 'Victory!
+     Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!'
+     Were the last words of Marmion."
+
+The monk gently placed the maid on her steed, and led her to the fair
+Chapel of Tilmouth. The night was spent in prayer, and at dawn she was
+safely given to her kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.
+
+All day, till darkness drew her wing over the ghastly scene, more
+desperate grew the deadly strife. When night had fallen, Surrey drew his
+shattered bands from the fray. Then Scotland learned her loss.
+
+    "Their king, their lords, their mightiest low,
+     They melted from the field as snow,
+     Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless splash
+       While many a broken band,
+     Disorder'd, through her currents dash,
+       To gain the Scottish land;
+     To town and tower, to down and dale,
+     To tell red Flodden's dismal tale,
+     And raise the universal wail.
+     Tradition, legend, tune, and song,
+     Shall many an age that wail prolong:
+     Still from the sire the son shall hear
+     Of the stern strife, and carnage drear.
+       Of Flodden's fatal field,
+     Where shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear,
+       And broken was her shield!
+
+    "Day dawns upon the mountain's side:--
+     There, Scotland! lay thy bravest pride,
+     Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one:
+     The sad survivors all are gone.
+     View not that corpse mistrustfully,
+     Defaced and mangled-though it be;
+     He saw the wreck his rashness wrought;
+     Reckless of life, he desperate fought,
+       And fell on Flodden plain:
+     And well in death his trusty brand,
+     Firm clench'd within his kingly hand,
+       Beseem'd the monarch slain."
+
+Little remains to be told. Fitz-Eustace, faithful to the last, bore "To
+Litchfield's lofty pile," what he believed to be the pierced and mangled
+body of his once proud master. Here was reared a Gothic tomb; carved
+tablets were set in fretted niche; around were hung his arms and armor,
+and the walls were blazoned with his deeds of valor; but Lord Marmion's
+body lay not there. Midst the din and roar of battle, a poor dying
+peasant had dragged himself to the fountain where died the Lord of
+Fontenaye, the Lord of Tamworth tower and town. Spoilers stripped and
+mutilated both bodies and the lowly woodsman was carried to the proud
+baron's tomb.
+
+Through the long and dreadful fight, Wilton was in the foremost and
+thickest. When Surrey's horse was slain, it was De Wilton's horse on
+which the noble leader was again mounted. It was Wilton's brand that
+hewed down the spearsmen. He was the living soul of all.
+
+In that battle, he won back rank and lands, adding to his crest bearings
+bought on Flodden Field. King and kinsman blessed fair Clara's
+constancy. As he reads, each must paint for himself the bridal scene,
+and imagine that,
+
+    "Bluff King Hal the curtain drew,
+     And Catherine's hand the stocking threw;
+     And afterwards, for many a day,
+     That it was held enough to say,
+     In blessing to a wedded pair,
+    'Love they like Wilton and like Clare.'"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prose Marmion, by Sara D. Jenkins
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PROSE MARMION ***
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