Part 15 (1/2)

XXVI.

'Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer, Whose names I now shall call, Scottish, or foreigner, give ear!

Subjects of him who sent me here, At his tribunal to appear, 740 I summon one and all: I cite you by each deadly sin, That e'er hath soil'd your hearts within; I cite you by each brutal l.u.s.t, That e'er defiled your earthly dust,-- 745 By wrath, by pride, by fear, By each o'er-mastering pa.s.sion's tone, By the dark grave, and dying groan!

When forty days are pa.s.s'd and gone, I cite you at your Monarch's throne, 750 To answer and appear.'-- Then thundered forth a roll of names:-- The first was thine, unhappy James!

Then all thy n.o.bles came; Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle, 755 Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle,- Why should I tell their separate style?

Each chief of birth and fame, Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle, Fore-doom'd to Flodden's carnage pile, 760 Was cited there by name; And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye; De Wilton, erst of Aberley, The self-same thundering voice did say.-- 765 But then another spoke: 'Thy fatal summons I deny, And thine infernal Lord defy, Appealing me to Him on high, Who burst the sinner's yoke.' 770 At that dread accent, with a scream, Parted the pageant like a dream, The summoner was gone.

p.r.o.ne on her face the Abbess fell, And fast, and fast, her beads did tell; 775 Her nuns came, startled by the yell, And found her there alone.

She mark'd not, at the scene aghast, What time, or how, the Palmer pa.s.s'd.

XXVII.

s.h.i.+ft we the scene.--The camp doth move, 780 Dun-Edin's streets are empty now, Save when, for weal of those they love, To pray the prayer, and vow the vow, The tottering child, the anxious fair, The grey-hair'd sire, with pious care, 785 To chapels and to shrines repair-- Where is the Palmer now? and where The Abbess, Marmion, and Clare?-- Bold Douglas! to Tantallon fair They journey in thy charge: 790 Lord Marmion rode on his right hand, The Palmer still was with the band; Angus, like Lindesay, did command, That none should roam at large.

But in that Palmer's altered mien 795 A wondrous change might now be seen; Freely he spoke of war, Of marvels wrought by single hand, When lifted for a native land; And still look'd high, as if he plann'd 800 Some desperate deed afar.

His courser would he feed and stroke, And, tucking up his sable frocke, Would first his mettle bold provoke, Then soothe or quell his pride. 805 Old Hubert said, that never one He saw, except Lord Marmion, A steed so fairly ride.

XXVIII.

Some half-hour's march behind, there came, By Eustace govern'd fair, 810 A troop escorting Hilda's Dame, With all her nuns, and Clare.

No audience had Lord Marmion sought; Ever he fear'd to aggravate Clara de Clare's suspicious hate; 815 And safer 'twas, he thought, To wait till, from the nuns removed, The influence of kinsmen loved, And suit by Henry's self approved, Her slow consent had wrought. 820 His was no flickering flame, that dies Unless when fann'd by looks and sighs, And lighted oft at lady's eyes; He long'd to stretch his wide command O'er luckless Clara's ample land: 825 Besides, when Wilton with him vied, Although the pang of humbled pride The place of jealousy supplied, Yet conquest, by that meanness won He almost loath'd to think upon, 830 Led him, at times, to hate the cause, Which made him burst through honour's laws.

If e'er he loved, 'twas her alone, Who died within that vault of stone.

XXIX.

And now, when close at hand they saw 835 North Berwick's town, and lofty Law, Fitz-Eustace bade them pause a while, Before a venerable pile, Whose turrets view'd, afar, The lofty Ba.s.s, the Lambie Isle, 840 The ocean's peace or war.

At tolling of a bell, forth came The convent's venerable Dame, And pray'd Saint Hilda's Abbess rest With her, a loved and honour'd guest, 845 Till Douglas should a bark prepare To wait her back to Whitby fair.

Glad was the Abbess, you may guess, And thank'd the Scottish Prioress; And tedious were to tell, I ween, 850 The courteous speech that pa.s.s'd between.

O'erjoy'd the nuns their palfreys leave; But when fair Clara did intend, Like them, from horseback to descend, Fitz-Eustace said,--'I grieve, 855 Fair lady, grieve e'en from my heart, Such gentle company to part;-- Think not discourtesy, But lords' commands must be obey'd; And Marmion and the Douglas said, 860 That you must wend with me.

Lord Marmion hath a letter broad, Which to the Scottish Earl he show'd, Commanding, that, beneath his care, Without delay, you shall repair 865 To your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.'

x.x.x.

The startled Abbess loud exclaim'd; But she, at whom the blow was aim'd, Grew pale as death, and cold as lead,-- She deem'd she heard her death-doom read. 870 'Cheer thee, my child!' the Abbess said, 'They dare not tear thee from my hand, To ride alone with armed band.'-- 'Nay, holy mother, nay,'

Fitz-Eustace said, 'the lovely Clare 875 Will be in Lady Angus' care, In Scotland while we stay; And, when we move, an easy ride Will bring us to the English side, Female attendance to provide 880 Befitting Gloster's heir; Nor thinks, nor dreams, my n.o.ble lord, By slightest look, or act, or word, To hara.s.s Lady Clare.

Her faithful guardian he will be, 885 Nor sue for slightest courtesy That e'en to stranger falls, Till he shall place her, safe and free, Within her kinsman's halls.'

He spoke, and blush'd with earnest grace; 890 His faith was painted on his face, And Clare's worst fear relieved.

The Lady Abbess loud exclaim'd On Henry, and the Douglas blamed, Entreated, threaten'd, grieved; 895 To martyr, saint, and prophet pray'd, Against Lord Marmion inveigh'd, And call'd the Prioress to aid, To curse with candle, bell, and book.

Her head the grave Cistertian shook: 900 'The Douglas, and the King,' she said, 'In their commands will be obey'd; Grieve not, nor dream that harm can fall The maiden in Tantallon hall.'

x.x.xI.

The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, 905 a.s.sumed her wonted state again,- For much of state she had,-- Composed her veil, and raised her head, And--'Bid,' in solemn voice she said, 'Thy master, bold and bad, 910 The records of his house turn o'er, And, when he shall there written see, That one of his own ancestry Drove the monks forth of Coventry, Bid him his fate explore! 915 Prancing in pride of earthly trust, His charger hurl'd him to the dust, And, by a base plebeian thrust, He died his band before.

G.o.d judge 'twixt Marmion and me; 920 He is a Chief of high degree, And I a poor recluse; Yet oft, in holy writ, we see Even such weak minister as me May the oppressor bruise: 925 For thus, inspired, did Judith slay The mighty in his sin, And Jael thus, and Deborah'-- Here hasty Blount broke in: 'Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band; 930 Saint 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, 935 Will sharper sermon teach.

Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse; The Dame must patience take perforce.'--