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ECLECTIC ENGLISH CLASSICS 
 
 SCOTT'S 
 
 MARMION 
 
 A TALE OF FLODDEN FIELD 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 hA.-^oblentz, A.m. 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF THE SOUTH DIVISION HIGH SCHOOL 
 MILWAUKEE, WIS. 
 
 NEW YORK .:. CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
i\ 
 
 Copyright, 1893 and 191 1, by 
 American Book Company 
 
 Marmion 
 w. p. I 
 
 2)CI.A28.3'607 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When Sir Walter Scott had completed this poem of '' Mar- 
 mion," in 1808^ he foresaw that it would be a favorite with 
 youth ; and in the lines '' To the Reader," at its conclusion, he 
 specified the schoolboy in a passage which shows his warm feel- 
 ing, and his appreciation of the schoolboy's natural heart : — 
 
 '' To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay 
 Has cheated of thy hour of play. 
 Light task and merry holiday! " 
 
 To read " Marmion '' is indeed a light and pleasant task, for 
 the subject and the style engage the reader's interest from the 
 start; but to read it to the best purpose, and with full under- 
 standing, one needs to get in some way that knowledge of the 
 time in which the events narrated occurred, of the places and 
 historical facts mentioned, and of the prevaihng social conditions 
 then existing, which the author presumed the reader would pos- 
 sess. To supply the information with sufficient fullness and 
 clearness, and also to explain such words and literary construc- 
 tions as may be strange or obscure, is the purpose of this edition. 
 
 Such things as any intelUgent teacher may be supposed com- 
 petent to interpret readily, or the explanation of which may be 
 found in the smaller dictionaries or in other books of reference 
 easily accessible to pupils, have been left without remark. It is 
 
 5 
 
6 INTROD UCTION. 
 
 not intended to supersede, but to aid, the proper work of both 
 teacher and pupil. The notes are seldom critical, and they are 
 always brief. 
 
 The author describes his work in the sub-title as '' A Tale of 
 Flodden Field." In his preface he said more particularly, '' The 
 present story turns upon the private adventures of a fictitious 
 character, but is called 'A Tale of Flodden Field,' because the 
 hero's fate is connected with that memorable defeat, and the 
 causes which led to it." In the same preface he speaks of it as 
 " a romantic tale," and '' an attempt to paint the manners of the 
 feudal times." 
 
 A romantic tale of which the hero is a fictitious person must 
 not be regarded as history, but it may be expected to truly pic- 
 ture the spirit and manners of the time. Scott's success in doing 
 this is universally confessed. It is a true picture of life and 
 incidents that might easily have been based upon historical facts 
 and conditions that were actual. Imaginary persons are made 
 to live in, and to be a part of, a real world and a real society, as 
 not being strangers to the one or the other, or false to the pos- 
 sibiHties of human nature. To accomplish this successfully is 
 the art of the writers of romance, poetry, novels, and the drama, 
 as distinguished from the art of chroniclers and historians. 
 
 The battle of Flodden is an historical battle, which was fought 
 between the English and the Scotch on the 9th of September, 
 1 513, just about twenty-one years after the discovery of America 
 by Columbus. This poem, therefore, describes a state of things 
 existing in England and Scotland in that era of the world. 
 Scotland's King, and the flower of its chivalry, were slain on 
 that field, and England obtained a signal victory. Some of the 
 circumstances of this battle related by Scott — as, for example. 
 
INTRODUCTION, 7 
 
 the error of tactics by which the King of Scotland recklessly- 
 abandoned to the English the strongest position — are histori- 
 cally true. 
 
 Throughout the poem there are incidents which are matters of 
 historic record ; but the author, who was writing a fictitious story, 
 uses these to suit his purpose, even when in fact they did not 
 occur at the precise time, or in the order or manner, of his 
 representation. Examples of this dealing with history are re- 
 ferred to in the notes. It is a liberty or hcense permitted to 
 writers of fiction, just as there is permitted to poets a Hcense, to 
 violate certain conventional forms of words and grammatical 
 constructions to which writers of prose are expected to conform, 
 or allowed to painters who compose an ideal landscape to bring 
 together features of actual landscapes that are really separated. 
 
 Scott wrote several similar romantic tales in verse, which in 
 their form were different from anything that had been previously 
 attempted. The first in order is entitled " The Lay of the Last 
 Minstrel," — a title which happily suggests the origin and devel- 
 opment of their form from that of the ancient ballads. A ballad 
 is a popular narrative poem adapted to be sung or recited. In 
 almost all the older nations the important incidents of their early 
 history were preserved, before the art of printing became com- 
 mon, by means of ballads composed and sung (or recited) by 
 poets or minstrels. These minstrels were often attached to the 
 households of kings and lords, but sometimes wandered from 
 place to place, making their livelihood by entertaining the people 
 with their compositions. The best of these productions were 
 preserved from generation to generation by memory. Com- 
 monly a ballad treated only of a single theme. To be popular 
 and easily remembered, it had to be composed in a style attract- 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ive to the ear, — that is, in some simple, natural rhythm, — as 
 well as to treat of a subject which was dear to the people. 
 
 Scotland was especially rich in these ballads celebrating its 
 heroes and their deeds. Scott was a great lover of them, and 
 he spent much of his time, when a young man, traveling through 
 the country, and writing them down as they were repeated to 
 him. He published a collection of them in three volumes, add- 
 ing some new ones composed by himself. It was after this 
 apprenticeship, so to speak, in the art of a particular style of 
 poetry, that he wrote the long narrative poem in easy eight-syl- 
 labled verses, describing an elaborate series of romantic inci- 
 dents, which he called "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," thus 
 placing himself in the honorable class of the ballad-makers who 
 celebrated his native land. This poem was wonderfully success- 
 ful in Scotland and in England. 
 
 His next attempt in the same line was this poem entitled 
 " Marmion," w^hich is now regarded by most critics as the best 
 of the series, and one of the best narrative poems in the English 
 language. It describes the life and manners of an age so differ- 
 ent from ours, that its interest as a romance increases rather than 
 lessens with its age. It is true that the beginning of the six- 
 teenth century was the period of the decline of feudalism ; but 
 its essential spirit, and also its substantial forms, endured in 
 northern England and in Scotland after they had yielded to the 
 modem order in some other places. The proud and fierce spirit 
 of the rival chiefs of the Scottish clans, and the almost constant 
 warfare prevailing on the Border, contributed to perpetuate the 
 military and social conditions peculiar to feudal civilization. The 
 centers of influence were the castles of lords, and the monasteries 
 of abbots and abbesses. The tests of character were fidelity to 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 military chiefs and to the chiefs of the Church. War was es- 
 teemed the noblest occupation for men. Superstition was every- 
 where prevalent. Honor was cherished by the few who were 
 presumed to be capable of possessing honor, it being rather a 
 birthright of the privileged few than a quality of the subject 
 many. Religion tolerated and enforced cruel barbarities : liberty 
 was a license to do injustice and indulge oppression. 
 
 In spite of all this strangeness of conditions, the young reader 
 of the poem will not fail to perceive that the persons of this tale 
 were actuated and controlled by motives which he can under- 
 stand ; which are, in truth, such as he feels in his own heart, and 
 discovers in the conduct of those about him. While most of 
 them are creatures of the imagination, they are very human, — 
 they awaken respect, admiration, and love, or suspicion, con- 
 tempt, and hatred, as real men and women do, — and their acts 
 are consistent with their characters. These are qualities of the 
 work which recommended it to his contemporaries, which recom- 
 mend it to our liking, and which will secure for it a permanent 
 fame. 
 
 The events of this story occur in southern Scotland and north- 
 ern England, — a region with which the author was thoroughly 
 familiar, having been accustomed from early hfe to wander over 
 the ground which centuries of strife had made historic, and to 
 observe carefully all features of the unchanging scene. His 
 descriptions of localities, therefore, are in their detail worthy of 
 confidence ; and his rank as a vivid delineator of natural scenery 
 is among the first of English poets. 
 
 The region of southern Scotland is called the Scotch Low- 
 lands, in distinction from the Scotch Highlands in the central 
 
I O INTROD UCTION. 
 
 and northern portion of the country ; but it is itself a region 
 picturesque in its varied siu-face of hills and valleys, although 
 the hills are neither so high nor so rugged as in the Highlands. 
 South of the Border the country is hardly less broken and varied 
 in its natural characteristics. 
 
 In the time of which Scott writes, the distinctions between the 
 inhabitants of the Highlands and those of the Lowlands, and 
 between either and the people of England, were more marked 
 than they are now. The intimacy of association which long 
 peace, common interests, and modem facilities of intercourse, 
 have fostered, has brought about changes of dress, manners, and 
 customs ; so that the Scotch are now distinguished from their 
 southern neighbors chiefly by their inherited physical features 
 and peculiarities of speech. These differences are more marked 
 in the peasantry of the two sections than in the wealthy and 
 more cultivated classes, and are not so great as those formerly 
 existing between the Highlanders and the Lowlanders. 
 
 The Highlanders spoke a language called " Erse " (Irish) or 
 *' Gaelic,'* which was a Celtic dialect distinct from English. 
 They wore a short coat and waistcoat ; a kilt, called also " filli- 
 beg " (which was a short petticoat reaching to the knees) ; and 
 short hose, that left the legs bare. Their garments were usually 
 of tartan, — a checkered or plaided woolen cloth. The lan- 
 guage of the Lowlanders resembled the EngHsh, but had some 
 peculiarities. 
 
 In the time of the Roman domination of the world, Scotland 
 was inhabited by tribes of savage hunters and shepherds, who 
 Hved in huts, and went nearly naked. The Romans called the 
 country '' Caledonia." They tried to conquer it, but were less 
 successful than in England. In the fifth century the Saxons 
 
INTROD UCTION. 1 1 
 
 conquered, and settled in the Lowlands; and Edwin, one of 
 their leaders, founded Edwinsbiurg, now called Edinburgh. 
 Early in the sixth century the Scots, a Celtic tribe from Ireland, 
 settled on the west coast. The predominant native race at that 
 time was known as the Picts. The Picts were converted to 
 Christianity by missionaries from Ireland; but soon afterward 
 they were conquered, and disappeared before the Irish invaders. 
 In the year 866 the piratical Danes began invading the country ; 
 and for two hundred years they endeavored to subdue it, but 
 were always repulsed. 
 
 During all this early period the people of Scotland were divided 
 into many tribes, or, in the Celtic language, clans. A clan is a 
 collection of families who are regarded as being descended from 
 some common ancestor, and are subject to the rule of one of 
 their lineage, called a chief. Some of these clans were very 
 numerous and powerful, and they were often at war among them- 
 selves. The chiefs were as petty kings over their own people. 
 
 In the tenth century the Scotch, as the people of the whole 
 country have come to be known, from the Scots who came into 
 it from Ireland, invaded England, and annexed portions of 
 Enghsh territory. This was the beginning of an almost constant 
 series of conflicts between the Scotch and the English, that con- 
 tinued for nearly six hundred years, until it happened that the 
 heirship to the thrones of both kingdoms was united in one 
 person — James VI. of Scotland, and James I. of England — in 
 1603. This was nearly a century after the events that are nar- 
 rated in the poem of '' Marmion." 
 
 The record of this Border strife is so crowded with events of 
 historic interest and significance, that it is impracticable to pre- 
 sent here even a summary of them ; but it is an important por- 
 
1 2 IN TROD UCTION, 
 
 tion of the life of the Enghsh and Scotch races. In the course 
 of the conflict all Scotland became united in a kingdom under 
 one ruler, although the clans were preserved, and were some- 
 times rebellious, sometimes treacherous. The conditions preced- 
 ing and bringing on the disastrous battle of Flodden may, how- 
 ever, be briefly set forth. 
 
 In 1460 James II. of Scotland, who had taken part in the 
 civil war of England, commonly known as the War of the Roses, 
 was accidentally killed. His son, James III., was then but eight 
 years old. As soon as he became of age, his brother, Alexander, 
 Duke of Albany, assumed the title of King, and began a war for 
 possession of the throne. He was supported by many of the 
 powerful nobles of Scotland, among the rest the Douglas family 
 and the Lord of the Isles; but he was finally defeated in 1483. 
 Later the nobles, unsubdued in spirit, made a new rebellion, this 
 time in the name of the King's son, who was sixteen years old. 
 In this attempt they were successful, James III. being defeated 
 and slain in battle in the year 1498. The rebellious son then 
 became King of Scotland as James IV. 
 
 He was a person of much ability, many accomplishments, and 
 strong inclination to a life of pleasure and vice ; but he had also 
 a conscience, that troubled him on account of his sins, and 
 especially on account of his rebelhon against his father. There- 
 fore by spells he led a Hfe of austerity and penance, retiring from 
 his court, and assuming the garb and practices of a monk. 
 
 The Scotch nobles and chiefs of clans who had rebelled 
 against his father were not actuated by any real devotion to him- 
 self. Their aim was to enhance their own power, and influence 
 and lessen that of royalty. Hence they soon began hostilities 
 against the new King, and the early part of his reign was dis- 
 
INTROD UCTION, 1 3 
 
 tracted by a bitter struggle to establish his supremacy, which was 
 finally secured ; the powerful Lord of the Isles, a leader in insur- 
 rections, being forced to siirrender his possessions to the Crown. 
 
 In 1509 Henry VIII. succeeded to the throne of England. 
 Between England and France there had been many wars ; and 
 a mutual jealousy existed, which easily kindled into flame upon 
 slight pretexts. In these wars Scotland had often been the active 
 ally of France against the hereditary foe of both. Henry had 
 not been long on the throne when he determined on an invasion 
 of France. At the same time, Scotland, having suppressed in- 
 ternal strife, was in a condition to resume hostilities. 
 
 The Queen of France sent a very affectionate letter to King 
 James, calling him '' my love," saying that she had suffered much 
 insult for her devotion to him, and calling upon him to raise an 
 army and invade England, if only for three feet over the Border. 
 She sent him as a present a beautiful turquoise ring, and also a large 
 sum of money for the expenses of making war in behalf of France. 
 The expectation was that Henry would quit France in order to 
 defend his own realm against the Scotch. 
 
 James was not proof against such blandishments, which 
 appealed alike to his vanity and his ambition. He immediately 
 began preparations for war, and sent a herald to Henry in 
 France to make demands for redress of certain wrongs done in 
 years gone by. But Henry did not return to England : instead, 
 he intrusted the defense of his country on the north to the Earl 
 of Surrey, who mustered an army of about thirty thousand men, 
 with which he marched to the border of Scotland, meeting the 
 equal army of James at Flodden in Northumberland County, , 
 where a spur of the Cheviot Hills overlooked the deep river Till. 
 Here was fought the battle so fatal to Scotland's heroes. 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Marmion, the hero of this poem, is represented as an envoy 
 from England sent to Scotland to demand of the King the reason 
 of the hostile preparations that were making. Such formal official 
 preliminaries were, and are still, a common practice between 
 nations, even when the truth is well known, and when both sides 
 are anxious for war. 
 
 The poems originally pubHshed as '' introductions " to the 
 several cantos of '' Marmion " are in this edition omitted from 
 their usual places, and inserted after the main story. This is 
 done for two reasons. First, they are not introductory in any 
 proper sense, but are separate and distinct, in their themes, 
 from the story of '' Marmion : " hence, however admirable and 
 worthy they may be of their own kind, they would serve to 
 interrupt and distract the attention of the young if read and 
 studied in place. It is highly important in education to develop 
 the faculty of sustained interest, and the habit of considering 
 parts in their relation to a whole. Only mature and disciplined 
 minds can patiently tolerate long interruptions of an engaging 
 story. Scott's biographer, Lockhart, relates that these '^intro- 
 ductions " were written before '' Marmion," and with the inten- 
 tion of publishing them in a separate volume. Secondly, these 
 poems are more interesting to older pupils than to those for 
 whom this book is specially prepared, and are better suited for 
 their instruction. They may be read more profitably, perhaps, 
 in connection with studies of modem English history. They are 
 published in this book without notes. Those who use them in a 
 later stage of their studies may be presumed to have attained an 
 age when it will be useful for them to be required to search out, 
 under guidance, such information as they need. W. A. 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 It is hardly to be expected that an author whom the public 
 have honored with some degree of applause should not be again 
 a trespasser on their kindness. Yet the author of '' Marmion '* 
 must be supposed to feel some anxiety concerning its success, 
 since he is sensible that he hazards, by this second intrusion, any 
 reputation which his first poem may have procured him. The 
 present story turns upon the private adventures of a fictitious 
 character, but is called ''A Tale of Flodden Field," because the 
 hero's fate is connected with that memorable defeat, and the 
 causes which led to it. The design of the author was, if possible, 
 to apprise his readers at the outset of the date of his story, and 
 to prepare them for the manners of the age in which it is laid. 
 Any historical narrative, far more an attempt at epic composi- 
 tion, exceeded his plan of a romantic tale ; yet he may be per- 
 mitted to hope, from the popularity of '' The Lay of the Last 
 Minstrel," that an attempt to paint the manners of the feudal 
 times, upon a broader scale, and in the coiu-se of a more inter- 
 esting story, will not be unacceptable to the pubHc. 
 
 The poem opens about the commencement of August, and 
 concludes with the defeat of Flodden, 9th September, 15 13. 
 
 ASHESTIEL, 1808. 
 
 15 
 
The dotted line shows 
 Supposed routes of Marmion. 
 
 CLARE __-— 
 
 EUSTACE y^BLOUNT ^^^ 
 
 EDMUND THE 
 
 .\',,7i''J>V:'!!!"/, .>...!., HOWARD ADMIRAL SURREY STANLEY 
 
 ^^»i 
 
 Flodden 
 Hill 
 
 W^^HKiHTVf CRAWFORD JAMES LENNOX 
 
 '^^^flaME MONTROSE ARGYLE 
 
 ■^~^J'\-; RnTHWELL 
 
 
 r^j, F^d Castle 
 %% 
 
 1... "%;% 
 
 Millfield (% o %\ 
 
 f->/ • '''.'y'/f/,- ^■- 
 
 /'/a/w ^^ -"/^ 
 
 Bradley # Boatea^.T.. 
 
MARMION 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 THE CASTLE. 
 
 DAY set on Norham's^ castled steep,^ 
 And Tweed^s^ fair river, broad and deep, 
 
 And Cheviot's^ mountains lone : 
 The battled^ towers, the donjon^ keep, 
 The loophole grates, where captives weep, 
 The flanking walls -^ that round it sweep, 
 
 In yellow luster shone. 
 The warriors on the turrets high, 
 Moving athwart the evening sky, 
 
 Seemed forms of giant height : 
 Their armor, as it caught the rays. 
 Flashed back again the western blaze, 
 
 In lines of dazzling light. 
 
 1 An old English fortress near the river Tweed, not far from its mouth. 
 
 2 The high bank or ridge on which the castle stood. 
 
 3 A river of Scotland flowing into the North Sea, and forming for a dis- 
 tance the eastern boundary between England and Scotland. 
 
 4 Hills south of the castle, on the boundary between England and Scot- 
 land. 
 
 5 Having battlements, i.e., having openings, through which cannon may 
 be pointed. 
 
 ^ 'See Glossary. 
 
 '^ Walls which surrounded the donjon. 
 2 17 
 
l8 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 II. 
 
 Saint George's banner,^ broad and gay, 
 Now faded, as the fading ray 
 
 Less bright, and less, was flung ; 
 The evening gale had scarce the power 
 To wave it on the donjon tower, 
 
 So heavily it hung. 
 The scouts had parted ^ on their search, 
 
 The castle gates were barred ; 
 Above the gloomy portal arch. 
 Timing his footsteps to a march. 
 
 The warder 3 kept his guard. 
 Low humming, as he paced along. 
 Some ancient Border gathering song.* 
 
 III. 
 
 A distant trampling sound he hears ; 
 He looks abroad, and soon appears 
 O'er Horncliff-hilP a plump ^ of spears 
 
 Beneath a pennon gay ; 
 A horseman, darting from the crowd 
 Like lightning from a summer cloud, 
 Spiurs on his mettled courser proud, 
 
 Before the dark array. 
 Beneath the sable pahsade 
 That closed the castle barricade. 
 
 His bugle horn he blew ; 
 
 1 The flag of England, a white flag bearing the red cross of Saint George, 
 England's patron saint. 
 
 2 Separated. It may also mean departed. 
 
 3 Guard. The castle warder was something like the modern sentry. 
 * A song used by warriors on the Border as a signal for meeting. 
 
 5 An elevation a short distance down the river. 
 
 6 Group, cluster; i.e., a body of horsemen. 
 
I.] ' MARMION, 19 
 
 The warder hasted from the wall, 
 And warned the captain in the hall, 
 
 For well the blast he knew ; 
 And joyfully that knight did call 
 To sewer, 1 squire, and seneschal. 
 
 IV. 
 
 "Now broach 2 ye a pipe^ of Malvoisie,^ 
 
 Bring pasties of the doe,^ 
 And quickly make the entrance free, 
 And bid my heralds ready be, 
 And every minstrel sound his glee,^ 
 
 And all our trumpets blow ; 
 And, from the platform, spare ye not 
 To fire a noble salvo-shot \^ 
 
 Lord Marmion waits below ! " 
 Then to the castle's lower ^ ward 
 
 Sped forty yeomen ^ tall, 
 The iron-studded gates unbarred. 
 Raised the portcullis' ^ ponderous guard. 
 The lofty palisade unsparred,^ 
 
 And let the drawbridge ^ fall. 
 
 v. 
 
 Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode, 
 Proudly his red-roan charger^ trode,i^ 
 
 1 See Glossary. 
 
 2 Tap. 
 
 3 A wine measure, usually 126 wine gallons. Two pipes make a tun. 
 
 * A sweet white wine from Crete and the Canary Islands, called in English 
 ** Malmsey." 
 
 ^ ** Pasties," etc., i.e., venison pies. 
 
 ^ Joyful song or music. 
 
 7 A salute of welcome (Latin, salve, '' hail"). 
 
 ^ The spars or stakes forming the palisade at the gate were taken away. 
 
 9 War horse. 10 An old form of *' trod; " stepped. 
 
20 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 His helm^ hung at the saddlebow; 
 Well by his visage you might know- 
 He was a stalworth^ knight, and keen, 
 And had in many a battle been ; 
 The scar on his brown cheek revealed 
 A token true of Bosworth^ field; 
 His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, 
 Showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire ; 
 Yet lines of thought upon his cheek 
 Did deep design and counsel speak. 
 His forehead, by his casque^ worn bare, 
 His thick mustache, and curly hair. 
 Coal-black, and grizzled here and there. 
 
 But more through toil than age, 
 His square-turned joints, and strength of limb, 
 Showed him no carpet^ knight so trim, 
 But in close fight a champion grim, 
 
 In camps a leader sage. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Well was he armed from head to heel 
 
 In mail^ and plate ^ of Milan steel ;^ 
 
 But his strong helm, of mighty cost. 
 
 Was all with burnished gold embossed ; 
 
 Amid the plumage of the crest,^ 
 
 A falcon ^ hovered on her nest, 
 
 With wings outspread and forward breast : 
 
 1 Helmet. 
 
 2 Stalwart. 
 
 3 The battle (Aug. 22, 1485) which ended the War of the Roses, and 
 placed Henry VII. on the English throne. It was fought near the town of 
 Bosworth, Leicester County, England. 
 
 ^ A form of helmet. 
 
 5 See Glossary. 
 
 ^ The steel from Milan, Italy, was famous. 
 
I.] M ARM ION, 21 
 
 E'en such a falcon, on his shield, 
 Soared sable in an a2;ure field : ^ 
 The golden legend ^ bore aright,^ 
 *' Who checks^ at me, to death is dight."^ 
 Blue was the charger's broidered rein ; 
 Blue ribbons decked his arching mane ; 
 The knightly housing's^ ample fold 
 Was velvet blue, and trapped ^ with gold. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Behind him rode two gallant squires, 
 Of noble name, and knightly sires ; 
 They burned the gilded spurs ^ to claim; 
 For well could each a war horse tame. 
 Could draw the bow, the sword could sway, 
 And lightly bear the ring^ away ; 
 Nor less with courteous precepts stored. 
 Could dance in hall, and carve at board,^ 
 And frame love ditties passingly rare, 
 And sing them to a lady fair. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Four men^ at arms came at their backs, 
 With halberd,^ bill,^ and batde-ax : 
 They bore Lord Marmion's lance so strong, 
 And led his sumpter^ mules along, 
 
 1 *' Sable in," etc., i.e., black in a blue ground, — terms used in heraldry. 
 
 2 '' Golden legend," i.e., motto in gold letters. 3 Rightly or truly. 
 * See Glossary, 5 Prepared; destined. 
 
 « Decorated. 7 The badge of knighthood. 
 
 8 There is a game of chivalry in which a horseman, riding at full speed, 
 catches a suspended ring on his spear. 
 
 9 To '' carve at board" was an important accomplishment in a squire's 
 education. 
 
 10 Exceedingly. 
 
2 2 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 And ambling palfrey, when at need 
 Him listed ease ^ his battle steed. 
 The last and trustiest of the four, 
 On high his forky pennon ^ bore ; 
 Like swallow's tail, in shape and hue, 
 Fluttered the streamer glossy blue, 
 Where, blazoned sable, as before. 
 The towering falcon seemed to soar. 
 Last, twenty yeomen, two and two, 
 In hosen^ black, and jerkins blue, 
 With falcons broidered on each breast, 
 Attended on their lord's behest. 
 Each, chosen for an archer good. 
 Knew hunting craft by lake or wood ; 
 Each one a six-foot bow could bend. 
 And far a cloth-yard ^ shaft could send; 
 Each held a boar spear tough and strong, 
 And at their belts their quivers rung. 
 Their dusty palfreys, and array, 
 Showed they had marched a weary way. 
 
 IX. 
 
 'Tis meet that I should tell you now 
 How fairly armed, and ordered how, 
 
 The soldiers of the guard, 
 With musket, pike,^ and morion,^ 
 To welcome noble Marmion, 
 
 Stood in the castle yard ; 
 Minstrels and trumpeters were there, 
 The gunner held his hnstock^ yare,^ 
 
 For welcome-shot prepared : 
 Entered the train, and such a clang 
 
 ^ '* Him listed ease," i.e., it pleased him to ease. 
 2 See Glossary, 
 
MARMION, 23 
 
 As then through all his turrets rang, 
 Old Norham never heard. 
 
 The guards their morrice-pikes ^ advanced, 
 
 The trumpets flourished brave,^ 
 The cannon from the ramparts glanced,^ 
 
 And thundering welcome gave. 
 A blithe salute, in martial sort, 
 
 The minstrels well might sound, 
 For, as Lord Marmion crossed the court, 
 
 He scattered angels^ round. 
 *' Welcome to Norham, Marmion! 
 
 Stout heart, and open hand! 
 Well dost thou brook ^ thy gallant roan,^ 
 
 Thou flower of English land." 
 
 XI. 
 
 Two pursuivants,! whom tabards ^ deck, 
 With silver scutcheon 1 round their neck, 
 
 Stood on the steps of stone, 
 By which you reach the donjon gate. 
 And there, with herald pomp and state, 
 
 They hailed Lord Marmion:^ 
 They hailed him Lord of Fontenaye, 
 Of Lutterward,*^ and Scrivelbaye, 
 
 Of Tamworth tower and town ; 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 Bravely ; inspiringly. 3 Flashed fire. 
 
 4 Hold in hand; control. ^ Horse of bay or chestnut color. 
 
 ^ The hero of the poem is a fictitious character, but the name belonged to 
 an old English family. Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, was one of the Nor- 
 man followers of William the Conqueror ; and from this monarch he received 
 grants of the Manor of Scrivelby and the town and castle of Tamworth, both 
 in central England. 
 
 "^ Perhaps Lutterworth in Leicestershire, England. 
 
24 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 And he, their courtesy to requite, 
 
 Gave them a chain i of twelve marks' ^ weight, 
 
 All as he hghted down. 
 '' Now, largesse,^ largesse, Lord Marmion, 
 
 Knight of the crest of gold! 
 A blazoned^ shield, in battle won, 
 
 Ne'er guarded heart so bold." 
 
 XII. 
 
 They marshaled^ him to the castle hall, 
 
 Where the guests stood all aside. 
 And loudly flourished the trumpet call, 
 
 And the heralds loudly cried, 
 " Room, lordlings,^ room for Lord Marmion, 
 
 With the crest and helm of gold! 
 Full well we know the trophies won 
 
 In the lists 2 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 his shield, 
 
 And saw his saddle bare ; 
 We saw the victor win the crest 
 
 He wears with worthy pride ; 
 
 1 Chain of gold. 2 gee Glossary. 
 
 3 A gift ; a bounty An expression ordinarily used to ask for a gift, but 
 here an exclamation of surprise, and of thanks for Marmion's generosity. 
 
 4 Decorated with emblems as tokens of bravery in battle. 
 
 5 Conducted with ceremonious escort. 
 
 6 Cotswold, in Gloucestershire. 
 
 ■^ Marmion's rival. See Canto II. xxviii. 
 
 ^ " Listed field," i.e., the field inclosed by the lists for tournaments. 
 
I.] M ARM ION, 25 
 
 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 ! '* 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Then stepped, to meet that noble lord, 
 
 Sir Hugh the Heron ^ bold, 
 Baron of Twisel ^ and of Ford,^ 
 
 And Captain of the Hold.^ 
 He led Lord Marmion to the deas,^ 
 
 Raised o'er the pavement high. 
 And placed him in the upper place — 
 
 They feasted full and high : 
 The whiles^ a Northern harper rude 
 Chanted a rhyme ^ of deadly feud, 
 
 " How the fierce Thirwalls, and Ridley s all, 
 Stout Willimondswick, 
 'A?id Hardriding Dick^ 
 
 And Hughie of Hawdoiz, and Will o^ the Wall, 
 
 * Gallows. 
 
 2 Turned upside down. Single combat was the common means for set- 
 tling questions of honor. If the conquered knight was not killed, he lost rank 
 •and fortune. The inversion of his shield on the gallows published his defeat. 
 
 ^ See Glossary, 
 
 * Heron was placed in charge of the fortress by Henry VIII. His real 
 name was William Heron, not Hugh ; and historically he was at this time a 
 prisoner in Scotland, while his wife was at Ford Castle. 
 
 5 Border castles on the English side. Ford was about a mile northeast of 
 Flodden Hill, and Twisel was near Norham. 
 
 ^ In the mean time. 
 
 ■^ Compare Scott's Border Minstrelsy, " The Death of Featherstonhaugh. " 
 The families mentioned in the rhyme or ballad were of north and northeast 
 Northumberland. 
 
 8 Richard Ridley of Hardriding. 
 
26 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Have set on Sir Albany Feather stonhaugh^ 
 And taken his life at the Deadman's shawT'^ 
 Scantly2 Lord Marmion's ear could brook 
 
 The harper's barbarous lay ; ^ 
 Yet much he praised the pains he took, 
 And well those pains did pay : 
 For lady's suit and minstrel's strain, 
 By knight should ne'er be heard in vain. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " Now, good Lord Marmion," Heron says, 
 
 " Of your fair courtesy, 
 I pray you bide^ some little space ^ 
 
 In this poor tower with me. 
 Here may you keep your arms from rust, 
 
 May breathe ^ your war horse well ; 
 Seldom hath passed a week but joust "^ 
 
 Or feat of arms befell : 
 The Scots can rein a mettled steed, 
 
 And love to couch a spear ;^ — 
 Saint George ! a stirring life they lead 
 
 That have such neighbors near. 
 Then stay with us a little space, 
 
 Our Northern wars to learn ; 
 I pray you for your lady's grace! " 
 
 Lord Marmion's brow grew stem. 
 
 XV. 
 
 The captain marked his altered look, 
 And gave a squire the sign ; 
 
 1 See Glossary, 2 Scarcely; hardly. 
 
 3 Song. 4 Stay. 5 Time. 
 
 ^ Cause to be out of breath from exercise. 
 "^ Tilting match between knights. 
 
 8 '* Couch a spear," i.e., place the butt of the spear in a hook or rest 
 fastened to the side of the armor. The spear is so couched for attack. 
 
I.] M ARM I ON, 27 
 
 A mighty wassail ^ bowl he took, 
 
 And crowned 2 it high with wine. 
 " Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion : 
 
 But first I pray thee fair,^ 
 Where hast thou left that page 1 of thine, 
 That used to serve thy cup of wine, 
 
 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 : 
 His was no rugged horse-boy's hand. 
 To burnish shield or sharpen brand, 
 
 Or saddle battle steed ; 
 But meeter seemed for lady fair, 
 To fan her cheek or curl her hair, 
 Or through embroidery, rich and rare, 
 
 The slender silk to lead : 
 His skin was fair, his ringlets gold. 
 
 His bosom — when he sighed, 
 The russet doublet's ^ rugged fold 
 
 Could scarce repel its pride ! 
 Say, hast thou given that lovely youth 
 
 To serve in lady's bower ? ^ 
 Or was the gentle page, in sooth, 
 
 A gentle paramour? " 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Lord Marmion ill could brook such jest ; • 
 
 He rolled his kindling eye. 
 With pain ^ his rising wrath suppressed. 
 
 Yet made a calm reply : 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 Filled full to the brim. 3 Courteously. 
 
 4 Raby Castle in Durham, the estate of the Duke of Cleveland. 
 
 5 Difficulty. 
 
2 8 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CAxNTO 
 
 "That boy thou thought so goodly^ fair, 
 He might not brook the northern air. 
 More of his fate if thou wouldst learn, 
 I left him sick in Lindisfarne : ^ 
 Enough of him. — But, Heron, say, 
 Why does thy lovely lady gay 
 Disdain to grace the hall to-day ? 
 Or has that dame, so fair and sage. 
 Gone on some pious pilgrimage? '^ — 
 He spoke in covert scorn, for fame 
 Whispered hght tales of Heron's dame. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Unmarked, at least unrecked, the taunt, 
 
 Careless the knight replied, 
 " No bird, whose feathers gayly flaunt, 
 
 Delights in cage to bide : 
 Norham is grim and grated close, 
 Hemmed in by battlement and fosse,^ 
 
 And many a darksome tower; 
 And better loves my lady bright 
 To sit in liberty and light, 
 
 In fair Queen Margaret's^ bower. 
 We hold our greyhound in our hand, 
 
 Our falcon on our glove ]^ 
 But where shall we find leash ^ or band 
 
 For dame that loves to rove? 
 
 1 Exceedingly. 2 Holy Isle (see Note 4, p. 40). 
 
 3 See Glossary, 
 
 4 Wife of James IV. of Scotland, and sister of Henry VIII. of England. 
 Through her James I. of England received his claim to the English throne. 
 He was the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, who was the granddaughter of 
 Queen Margaret. 
 
 5 In hunting, the falcon was carried on the hand, which was protected from 
 its claws by a glove. 
 
I.] MARMION, 29 
 
 Let the wild falcon soar her swing, 
 
 She'll stoop ^ when she has tired her wing." — 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Nay, if with royal James's ^ bride 
 
 The lovely Lady Heron bide. 
 
 Behold me here a messenger. 
 
 Your tender greetings prompt to bear ; 
 
 For, to the Scottish court ^ addressed,^ 
 
 I journey at our King's behest, 
 
 And pray you, of your grace, provide 
 
 For me and mine a trusty guide. 
 
 I have not ridden in Scotland since 
 
 James backed the cause of that mock prince, 
 
 Warbeck,^ that Flemish counterfeit. 
 
 Who on the gibbet paid the cheat.^ 
 
 Then did I march with Surrey's^ power. 
 
 What time we razed old Ayton Tower." ^ — 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " For such-like need, my lord, I trow, 
 Norham can find you guides enow ; "^ 
 
 1 See Glossary. 
 
 2 James IV. (1472-15 13), King of Scotland. He invaded Northumber- 
 land during the absence of Henry VIII. in France, but was defeated and 
 slain at the battle of Flodden, Sept. 9, 15 13. 
 
 3 Palace of Holyrood, Edinburgh. 4 Sent. 
 
 s Perkin Warbeck was of Flemish parentage, and bore a striking resem- 
 blance to Edward IV. of England. He assumed the name of Edward's son, 
 Richard, Duke of York, the younger of the two princes murdered in the 
 Tower of London, and made several unsuccessful attempts to place himself 
 on the English throne. He was executed in England in 1499. 
 
 ^ Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey. In retaliation of the invasion of 
 England, he advanced into Berwickshire, but retreated after taking the castle 
 of Ayton. Surrey finally defeated James at Flodden. 
 
 "^ Enough, 
 
30 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 For here be some have pricked i as far, 
 
 On Scottish ground, as to Dunbar ;2 
 
 Have drunk the monks of Saint Bothan's^ ale, 
 
 And driven the beeves^ of Lauderdale \^ 
 
 Harried the wives ^ of Greenlaw's "^ goods, 
 
 And given them light to set their hoods." ^ — 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Now, in good sooth," ^ Lord Marmion cried, 
 
 ''Were I in warlike wise^^ to ride, 
 
 A better guard I would not lack ^^ 
 
 Than your stout forayers^ at my back; 
 
 But as in form of peace I go, 
 
 A friendly messenger, to know 
 
 Why through all Scotland, near and far, 
 
 Their King is mustering troops for war,i2 
 
 The sight of plundering Border spears 
 
 Might justify suspicious fears. 
 
 And deadly feud, or thirst of spoil, 
 
 Break out in some unseemly broil : 
 
 A herald were my fitting guide ; 
 
 Or friar,^ sworn in peace to bide ; 
 
 1 Ridden. 
 
 2 A town on the Scottish coast, twenty-five miles north of Norham. 
 
 3 A monastery near the Border in Scotland. 
 
 4 ** Driven the beeves," i.e., driven off the cattle as plunder. 
 
 5 The valley of the Lauder, a tributary of the Tweed. 
 
 6 See Glossary, 
 
 "7 Capital of Berwickshire, Scotland. 
 
 8 '' Given them light," etc. A jocose term which the Borderers used to 
 express the burning of a house. 
 
 9 *' In good sooth," i.e., truly. 
 
 10 Form. 
 
 11 Desire. 
 
 12 '* But as in form," etc. This passage gives the gist of Marmion's mis- 
 sion. 
 
I.] MARMION, 31 
 
 Or pardoner,! qj. traveling priest, 
 Or strolling pilgrim,^ at the least." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The captain mused a little space, 
 
 And passed his hand across his face. 
 
 '' Fain would I find the guide you want, 
 
 But ill may spare a pursuivant,^ 
 
 The only men that safe can ride^ 
 
 Mine errands on the Scottish side : 
 
 And though a bishop^ built this fort, 
 
 Few holy brethren here resort ; 
 
 Even our good chaplain, as I ween, 
 
 Since our last siege, we have not seen : 
 
 The massi he might not sing or say, 
 
 Upon one stinted meal a day ; 
 
 So, safe he sat in Durham aisle,^ 
 
 And prayed for our success the while. 
 
 Our Norham vicar,i woe betide,^ 
 
 Is all too well in case ^ to ride ; 
 
 The priest '^ of Shoreswood — he could rein 
 
 The wildest war horse in your train ; 
 
 But then, no spearman in the hall 
 
 Will sooner swear, or stab, or brawl. 
 
 Friar John of Tilmouth were the man : 
 
 A bhthesome brother at the can,^ 
 
 1 See Glossary, 2 Convey by riding. 
 
 3 Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham, rebuilt the castle in 1 164, adding the 
 donjon. 
 
 4 Cathedral. 
 
 5 '* Woe betide," i.e., unfortunately. 
 ^ ** Too well in case," i.e., too stout. 
 
 ■7 Probably Welsh, the Vicar of Saint Thomas of Exeter, a leader of Corn- 
 ish insurgents in 1549. 
 
 8 ** At the can," i.e., at drinking. 
 
32 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 A welcome guest in hall and bower,^ 
 He knows each castle, town, and tower, 
 In which the wine and ale is good, 
 'Twixt Newcastle 2 and Holy-Rood.^ 
 But that good man, as ill befalls,"^ 
 Hath seldom left our castle walls, 
 Since, on the vigil of Saint Bede,^ 
 In evil hour, he crossed the Tweed, 
 To teach Dame Alison her creed. 
 Old Bughtrig found him with his wife ; 
 And John, an enemy to strife, 
 Sans^ frock and hood, fled for his life. 
 The jealous churl hath deeply swore, 
 That, if again he venture o'er. 
 He shall shrieve'^ penitent no more. 
 Little he loves such risks, I know, 
 Yet, in your guard, perchance will go.'* 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Young Selby, at the fair hall board, 
 
 Carved to his uncle and that lord, 
 
 And reverently took up the word. 
 
 '^ Kind uncle, woe^ were we each one, 
 
 If harm should hap to brother John. 
 
 He is a man of mirthful speech. 
 
 Can many a game and gambol teach ; 
 
 1 " In hall," etc., i.e., with gentlemen and ladies. 
 
 2 A city on the Tyne River in Northumberland. 
 
 3 The royal palace or abbey at Edinburgh. 
 
 4 '^ As vll befalls," i.e., as it unfortunately happens. 
 
 ^ '' Vigil of Saint Bede," i.e., the religious service on the evening before 
 the feast of Saint Bede, a celebrated monk and historian of the eighth century, 
 known as the Venerable Bede. His calendar day is May 27. 
 
 6 Without. 
 
 ■7 Hear confession and give absolution, duties of a Roman Catholic priest. 
 
 8 Sorrowful. 
 
J MARMION. 3o 
 
 Full well at tables i can he play, 
 
 And sweep at bowls ^ the stake away. 
 
 None can a lustier carol bawl, 
 
 The needfuUest 2 among us all, 
 
 When time hangs heavy in the hall. 
 
 And snow comes thick at Christmas tide, 
 
 And we can neither hunt nor ride 
 
 A foray on the Scottish side. 
 
 The vowed revenge of Bughtrig rude 
 
 May end in worse than loss of hood. 
 
 Let Friar John, in safety, still 
 
 In chimney-comer snore his fill, 
 
 Roast hissing crabs,^ or flagons swill : 
 
 Last night to Norham there came one 
 
 Will better guide Lord Marmion." — 
 
 '' Nephew," quoth Heron, '' by my fay,^ 
 
 Well hast thou spoke ; say forth thy say." — 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Here is a holy Palmer ^ come, 
 
 From Salem ^ first, and last from Rome; 
 
 One that hath kissed the blessed tomb,® 
 
 And visited each holy shrine, 
 
 In Araby^ and Palestine; 
 
 On hills of Armenie^ hath been. 
 
 Where Noah's Ark may yet be seen ; 
 
 By that Red Sea, too, hath he trod. 
 
 Which parted at the Prophet's ^ rod; 
 
 In Sinai's wilderness he saw 
 
 The Mount where Israel heard the law, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 xhe person most needed. 
 
 3 Crab apples. 4 Faith. 5 Jerusalem. 
 
 ^ The Holy Sepulcher at Jerusalem. '^ Arabia. 
 
 ^ Armenia. ^ Moses. 
 
34 ^/^ WALTER SCOTT. [CANTO 
 
 'Mid thunder-dint^ and flashing levin,^ 
 And shadows, mists, and darkness^ given. 
 He shows Saint James's cockleshell ; ^ 
 Of fair Montserrat,^ too, can tell ; 
 
 And of that Grot where Olives nod, 
 Where, darling of each heart and eye, 
 From all the youth of Sicily, 
 
 Saint Rosahe ^ retired to God. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 "To stout Saint George of Norwich^ merry, 
 Saint Thomas,"^ too, of Canterbury, 
 Cuthbert of Durham^ and Saint Bede, 
 For his sins' pardon hath he prayed. 
 He knows the passes of the North, 
 And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth ;^ 
 Little he eats, and long will wake, 
 And drinks but of the stream or lake. 
 This were a guide ^^ o'er moor and dale; 
 But, when our John hath quaffed his ale. 
 As little as the wind that blows, 
 
 1 Clap of thunder. 
 
 2 Lightning. 
 
 3 The especial badge of a pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint James (Spain's 
 patron saint) at Compostella. 
 
 4 A mountain in Catalonia, Spain, celebrated for the Benedictine abbey 
 erected upon it, at a height of twelve hundred feet. 
 
 5 Santa Rosalia, a high-bred lady of Palermo, who forsook the world, 
 and sought religious seclusion in a cave or grot on the northern coast of 
 Sicily. 
 
 6 At Norwich there is a noted church dedicated to Saint George. 
 *? Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, assassinated in the reign 
 
 of Henry II. 
 
 8 See Note 4, p. 40 ; also Note 4, p. 50. 
 ^ A river in southern Scotland. 
 10 <' This were a guide," i.e., this Palmer will be a safe guide. 
 
L] MARMION. 35 
 
 And warms itself against his nose,i 
 
 Kens 2 he, or cares, which way he goes." — 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " Gramercy ! " ^ quoth Lord Marmion, 
 *' Full loath were I that Friar John, 
 That venerable^ man, for me, 
 Were placed in fear or jeopardy. 
 If this same Palmer will me lead 
 
 From hence to Holy-Rood, 
 Like his good saint, I'll pay his meed,^ 
 Instead of cockleshell or bead. 
 
 With angels 2 fair and good. 
 I love such holy ramblers; still ^ 
 They know to charm ^ a weary hill 
 
 With song, romance, or lay : 
 Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest, 
 Some lying legend, at the least. 
 
 They bring to cheer the way." — 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 "Ah! noble sir," young Selby said, 
 
 And finger on his lip he laid, 
 
 '' This man knows much, perchance e'en more 
 
 Than he could learn by holy lore.^ 
 
 1 A nose red from drink. 
 
 2 See Glossary. 
 
 3 A contraction of the French grand merci ('* great thanks ''). 
 ^ Ironically used. 
 
 5 Reward. Marmion means that he will thus act the part of a good saint 
 toward a votary. 
 
 ^ Always. 
 
 ■^ Lighten the task of climbing. 
 
 ^ Wisdom. Selby suggests that the Palmer knew something of magic, a 
 knowledge of which was considered unholy. 
 
36 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Still to himself he's muttering, 
 
 And shrinks as at some unseen thing. 
 
 Last night we Hstened at his cell ; 
 
 Strange sounds we heard, and, sooth to tell, 
 
 He murmured on till morn, howe'er 
 
 No hving mortal could be near. 
 
 Sometimes I thought I heard it plain, 
 
 As^ other voices spoke again. 
 
 I cannot tell — I like it not — 
 
 Friar John hath told us it is wrote, 
 
 No conscience clear, and void of wrong, 
 
 Can rest awake, and pray so long. 
 
 Himself still sleeps before his beads ^ 
 
 Have marked ten aves^ and two creeds." ^ — 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " Let pass,"^ quoth Marmion ; '' by my fay, 
 This man shall guide me on my way, 
 Although the great arch-fiend^ and he 
 Had sworn themselves of company. 
 So please you, gentle youth, to call 
 This Palmer to the castle hall." 
 The summoned Palmer came in place ; ^ 
 His sable cowl o'erhung his face ; 
 In his black mantle was he clad. 
 With Peter's keys,^ in cloth of red. 
 On his broad shoulders wrought ; 
 The scallop shell '^ his cap did deck ; 
 The crucifix around his neck 
 
 1 As if. 2 See Glossary. 3 Let it pass. 
 
 ^ Satan. ^ '' Came in place," i.e., entered the place. 
 
 ® Keys of heaven (Matt. xvi. 19), — symbolic insignia of the Roman 
 Catholic Church. 
 
 '^ Cockleshell (see Canto I. xxiii.). 
 
MARMION, 37 
 
 Was from Loretto ^ brought ; 
 His sandals were with travel tore, 
 Staff, budget,^ bottle, scrip,^ he wore ; 
 The faded palm-branch in his hand 
 Showed pilgrim from the Holy Land. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 When as^ the Palmer came in hall, 
 
 Nor lord, nor knight, was there more tall, 
 
 Or had a stateHer step withal. 
 
 Or looked more high and keen ; 
 For no saluting did he wait, 
 But strode across the hall of state. 
 And fronted Marmion where he sate, 
 
 As he his peer had been. 
 But his gaunt frame was worn with toil ; 
 His cheek was sunk, alas, the while ! ^ 
 And when he struggled at a smile, 
 
 His eye looked haggard-wild : ^ 
 Poor wretch! the mother that him bare, 
 If she had been in presence there. 
 In his wan face, and sunburned hair, 
 
 She had not known her child. 
 Danger, long travel, want, or woe. 
 Soon change the form that best we know — 
 For deadly fear can time outgo. 
 
 And blanch at once the hair ; 
 Hard toil can roughen form and face, 
 
 1 A sacred town of Italy, containing, according to story, a house (the 
 home of the Virgin Mary) which was transported there from Nazareth by 
 angels. 
 
 2 See Glossary, 3 << When as " has here the value of ** when." 
 
 4 This expression simply means *' alas." 
 
 5 A double adjective, meaning ** haggard and wild." 
 
38 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 And want can quench the eye's bright grace, 
 Nor does old age a wrinkle trace 
 
 More deeply than despair. 
 Happy whom none of these befall, 
 But this poor Palmer knew them all. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Lord Marmion then his boon did ask ; 
 The Palmer took on him the task, 
 So he would march with morning tide. 
 To Scottish court to be his guide. 
 *' But I have solemn vows to pay, 
 And may not linger by the way, 
 
 To fair Saint Andrew's^ bound, 
 Within the ocean-cave to pray, 
 Where good Saint Rule ^ his holy lay. 
 From midnight to the dawn of day. 
 
 Sung to the billows' sound ; 
 Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well ,3 
 Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel. 
 
 And the crazed brain restore : 
 Saint Mary grant that cave or spring 
 Could back to peace my bosom bring. 
 
 Or bid it throb no more ! " 
 
 XXX. 
 
 And now the midnight draught^ of sleep, 
 Where wine and spices richly steep, 
 
 1 A city of Scotland, north of Edinburgh, so named because Saint Rule 
 was supposed to have brought Saint Andrew's relics there. 
 
 2 Saint Regulus, a monk of the eighth century, one of the first to take 
 Christianity into Scotland. 
 
 3 A well the water of which was reputed to cure insanity. Other wells in 
 Scotland bore Saint Fillan's name also. 
 
 4 Draught inducing sleep. 
 
I.] M ARM ION. 39 
 
 In massive bowl of silver deep, 
 
 The page presents on* knee. 
 Lord Marmion drank a fair good rest,i 
 The captain pledged 2 his noble guest, 
 The cup went through^ among the rest, 
 
 Who drained it merrily ; 
 Alone the Palmer passed it by, 
 Though Selby pressed him courteously. 
 This was a sign the feast was o'er ; 
 It hushed the merry wassail roar, 
 
 The minstrels ceased to sound. 
 Soon in the castle naught was heard 
 But the slow footstep of the guard 
 
 Pacing his sober round. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 With early dawn Lord Marmion rose : 
 
 And first the chapel doors unclose ; 
 
 Then, after morning rites were done, 
 
 (A hasty mass^ from Friar John,) 
 
 And knight and squire had broke their fast 
 
 On rich substantial repast, 
 
 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 ; 
 
 High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid. 
 
 Solemn excuse the captain made, 
 
 1 ** Drank a fair," etc., i.e., expressed a courteous good-night. 
 
 2 Drank his health. 
 
 3 Around. 
 
 * Probably the short form of the mass, called hunting mass, said before 
 nobles impatient to begin the chase. 
 
 ^ " Blew to horse," i.e., gave the signal for mounting. 
 ^ See Glossary, 
 
40 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Till, filing from the gate, had passed 
 That noble traiil, their lord the last. 
 Then loudly rung 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, 
 Which gave again the prospect fair. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 THE CONVENT. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE breeze which swept away the smoke 
 Round Norham castle rolled, 
 When all the loud artillery spoke 
 With lightning flash and thunder stroke. 
 
 As Marmion left the hold, ^ — 
 It curled not Tweed alone, that breeze. 
 For, far upon Northumbrian seas,^ 
 
 It freshly blew, and strong, 
 Where, from high Whitby's^ cloistered pile, 
 Bound to Saint Cuthbert's Holy Isle,^ 
 
 1 Stronghold. 
 
 2 Parts of the North Sea near the coast of Northumberland. 
 
 3 Whitby Abbey, founded by Oswy, King of Northumberland, in 657, on 
 the coast of Yorkshire, England. 
 
 4 Lindisfarne, an island at high water on the coast of Northumberland, 
 near Norham Castle, called *'Holy Isle" from its ancient monastery, and 
 
II.] MARMION, 41 
 
 It bore a bark along. 
 Upon the gale she stooped h^r side, 
 And bounded o'er the swelHng tide, 
 
 As she were dancing home ; 
 The merry seamen laughed to see 
 Their gallant ship so lustily 
 
 Furrow the green sea foam. 
 Much joyed they in their honored freight ; 
 For on the deck, in chair of state, 
 The Abbess of Saint Hilda ^ placed, 
 With five fair nuns,^ the galley graced. 
 
 II. 
 
 'Twas sweet to see these holy maids. 
 Like birds escaped to greenwood 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. 
 One eyed the shrouds and swelling sail, 
 
 With many a benedicite ; ^ 
 One at the rippling surge grew pale. 
 
 And would for terror pray, 
 Then shrieked because the sea* dog, nigh, 
 
 from its being the seat of the Episcopal see of Durham during the early- 
 periods of Christianity in Great Britain. Saint Cuthbert was the most famous 
 of the bishops who resided there. He died in a hermitage on the Fame 
 Islands, A.D. 686, having, about two years before, resigned the Lindisfarne 
 bishopric. 
 
 1 Whitby Abbey. Saint Hilda was its first abbess. 
 
 2 An historical inaccuracy, as there were no nuns at Whitby in the time 
 of Henry VIII. 
 
 3 The first word of a Latin prayer. It means ** Bless us," and is here 
 used as a pious exclamation of mingled wonder and surprise, 
 
 * See Glossary, 
 
42 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 His round black head and sparkling eye 
 
 Reared o'er the foaming spray ; 
 And one would still adjust her veil, 
 Disordered by the summer gale, 
 Perchance lest some more worldly eye 
 Her dedicated charms might spy, 
 Perchance because such action graced 
 Her fair-turned arm and slender waist. 
 Light was each simple bosom there. 
 Save two, who ill might pleasure share, — 
 The Abbess, and the novice^ Clare. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Abbess was of noble blood, 
 But early took the veil and hood, 
 Ere upon life she cast a look, 
 Or knew the world that she forsook. 
 Fair too she was, and kind had been 
 As she was fair, but ne'er had seen 
 For her a timid lover sigh, 
 Nor knew the influence of her eye. 
 Love to her ear was but a name. 
 Combined with vanity and shame ; 
 Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all 
 Bounded within the cloister i wall: 
 The deadliest sin her mind could reach 
 Was of monastic rule the breach ; 
 And her ambition's highest aim 
 To emulate Saint Hilda's fame. 
 For this she gave her ample dower 
 To raise the convent's eastern tower; 
 For this, with carving rare and quaint, 
 She decked the chapel of the saint, 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
II. 1 MARMION. 43 
 
 And gave the relic shrine ^ of cost, 
 With ivory and gems embossed. 
 The poor her convent's bounty blest, 
 The pilgrim in its halls found rest. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Black was her garb, her rigid rule^ 
 Reformed on Benedictine^ school; 
 Her cheek was pale, her form was spare ; 
 Vigils, and penitence austere, 
 Had early quenched the light of youth. 
 But gentle was the dame, in sooth ; 
 Though vain of her religious sway, 
 She loved to see her maids obey ; 
 Yet nothing stem was she in cell,* 
 And the nuns loved their Abbess well. 
 Sad was this voyage to the dame ; 
 Summoned to Lindisfame, she came, 
 There, with Saint Cuthbert's Abbot old, 
 And Tynemouth's Prioress,^ to hold 
 A chapter of Saint Benedict,^ 
 For inquisition stern and strict. 
 On two apostates from the faith. 
 And, if need were, to doom to death. 
 
 V. 
 Naught say I here of Sister Clare, 
 Save this, that she was young and fair ; 
 
 1 The shrine in which the remains of a saint were kept. 
 
 2 The special regulations of a religious order. 
 
 3 A monastic order founded by Saint Benedict. The Benedictine monks, 
 because of their dark gowns, were called ** Black Friars.'* 
 
 * The abbey. 
 
 5 Tynemouth Priory was near the mouth of the river Tyne. A prioress 
 was inferior in ecclesiastical rank to an abbess. 
 
 6 *^A chapter," etc., i.e., a council of the Order of Saint Benedict. 
 
44 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 As yet a novice unprofessed/ 
 Lovely and gentle, but distressed. 
 She was betrothed to one now dead, 
 Or worse, w^ho had dishonored fled. 
 Her kinsmen bade her give her hand 
 To one who loved her for her land : 
 Herself, almost heartbroken now. 
 Was bent 2 to take the vestaP vow, 
 And shroud within Saint Hilda's gloom 
 Her blasted hopes and withered bloom. 
 
 VI. 
 
 She sate upon the galley's^ prow. 
 And seemed to mark the waves below ; 
 Nay, seemed, so fixed her look and eye, 
 To count them as they glided by. 
 She saw them not — ^twas seeming all — 
 Far other scene her thoughts recall, — 
 A sun-scorched desert, waste and bare, 
 Nor waves nor breezes murmured there ; 
 There saw she where some careless hand 
 O'er a dead corpse had heaped the sand. 
 To hide it till the jackals come 
 To tear it from the scanty tomb. 
 See what a woeful look was given. 
 As she raised up her eyes to heaven! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Lovely, and gentle, and distressed, — 
 These charms might tame the fiercest breast : 
 
 1 That is, she had not as yet taken the vow, though she had entered the 
 convent. 
 
 2 Resolved. } See Glossary. 
 
 * Technically, a ship driven by oars, or by oars and sails ; here used in the 
 general sense of '^ vessel." 
 
II.] MARMION. 45 
 
 Harpers have sung, and poets told, 
 
 That he, in fury uncontrolled. 
 
 The shaggy monarch of the wood, 
 
 Before a virgin,^ fair and good, 
 
 Hath pacified his savage mood. 
 
 But passions in the human frame 
 
 Oft put the lion's rage to shame ; 
 
 And jealousy, by dark intrigue. 
 
 With sordid avarice in league, 
 
 Had practiced with their bowl 2 and knife 
 
 Against the mourner's harmless life. 
 
 This crime was charged 'gainst those who lay 
 
 Prisoned in Cuthbert's islet gray. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And now the vessel skirts the strand 
 Of mountainous Northumberland ; 
 Towns, towers, and halls successive rise, 
 And catch the nuns' delighted eyes. 
 Monk-Wearmouth ^ soon behind them lay, 
 And Tynemouth's priory and bay ; 
 They marked amid her trees the hall 
 Of lofty Seaton-Delaval ;^ 
 They saw the Blythe^ and Wansbeck^ floods 
 Rush to the sea through sounding woods ; 
 They passed the tower of Widderington,^ 
 Mother of many a valiant son ; 
 
 1 Alluding to Spenser's Una, whose beauty so enthralled a lion that he 
 became her guide and protector. 
 
 2 Poison. 
 
 3 A monastery, founded 674, near the mouth of the river Wear. 
 * The home of the family of Delaval. 
 
 5 A river of northern England, flowing into the North Sea. 
 
 6 A noted castle of which only one tower remains. Compare ballad of 
 Chevy Chase. 
 
46 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 At Coquet-isle ^ their beads they tell 
 
 To the good saint who owned the cell ; 
 
 Then did the Alne^ attention claim, 
 
 And Warkworth,^ proud of Percy's name ; 
 
 And next they crossed themselves to hear 
 
 The whitening breakers sound so near, 
 
 Where, boiling through the rocks, they roar 
 
 On Dunstanborough's^ caverned shore; 
 
 Thy tower, proud Bamborough,^ marked they there, 
 
 King Ida's castle, huge and square. 
 
 From its tall rock look grimly down, 
 
 And on the swelling ocean frown; 
 
 Then from the coast they bore away. 
 
 And reached the Holy Island's bay. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The tide did now its flood mark gain, 
 And girdled in the Saint's domain ; 
 For, with the flow and ebb, its style 
 Varies from continent to isle : ^ 
 Dry-shod, o'er sands, twice every day 
 The pilgrims to the shrine find way ; 
 Twice every day the waves efface 
 Of staves and sandaled feet the trace. 
 As to the port the galley flew, 
 
 1 A small island near the mouth of the Coquet River. On it are the ruins 
 of a cell or monastery. 
 
 2 The Alne River, a little north of Coquet. 
 
 3 A castle on the Alne River, near its mouth, and owned by the Percys 
 in the middle ages, now the seat of the Duke of Northumberland. 
 
 * The shore in the neighborhood of this castle's ruins is stern and cavern- 
 ous ; and in stormy weather the sea rushes through an orifice, ** Rumble 
 Churn," with great violence. 
 
 5 A castle erected on the site of a Saxon fortress, about the middle of the 
 sixth century, by Ida, King of Northumberland. 
 
 6 That is, an island at high water, and part of the mainland at low water. 
 
MARMION. 47 
 
 Higher and higher rose to view 
 The castle with its battled walls, 
 The ancient monastery's halls, 
 A solemn, huge, and dark-red pile, 
 Placed on the margin of the isle. 
 
 In Saxon strength ^ that abbey frowned, 
 With massive arches broad and round. 
 
 That rose alternate, row and row, 
 
 On ponderous columns, short and low, 
 Built ere the art was known, 
 
 By pointed aisle ^ and shafted stalk,^ 
 
 The arcades* of an alleyed walk 
 To emulate in stone. 
 On the deep walls the heathen Dane^ 
 Had poured his impious rage in vain ; 
 And needful was such strength to these, 
 Exposed to the tempestuous seas. 
 Scourged by the winds' eternal sway. 
 Open to rovers fierce as they. 
 Which could twelve hundred years withstand 
 Winds, waves, and northern pirates' hand 
 Not but that portions of the pile, 
 Rebuilded in a later style, 
 
 1 In Saxon architecture the arches (semicircles) were supported by short 
 heavy columns which gave the structure great strength. Pointed arches 
 characterized the Gothic architecture. 
 
 2 Aisles are the side divisions of a church, separated from the nave by 
 rows of columns. Here used in the sense of ** arch," referring to the pointed 
 arch supports of the roof. 
 
 3 Long columns like the shaft or trunk of a tree, or perhaps cluster col- 
 umns with a central pillar surrounded by other columns. 
 
 * Arches formed by trees whose branches meet over a walk. 
 ^ The Danes from the eighth to the eleventh century made frequent in- 
 roads on the country, crossing the North Sea from Scandinavia and Jutland. 
 
48 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Showed where the spoiler's hand had been ; 
 Not but the wasting sea breeze keen 
 Had worn the pillar's carving quaint, 
 And moldered in his niche the saint, 
 And rounded with consuming power 
 The pointed angles of each tower ; 
 Yet still entire the abbey stood. 
 Like veteran, worn, but unsubdued. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Soon as they neared his^ turrets strong, 
 The maidens raised Saint Hilda's song. 
 And with the sea wave and the wind 
 Their voices, sweetly shrill, combined, 
 
 And made harmonious close ;2 
 Then, answering from the sandy shore, 
 Half-drowned amid the breakers' roar, 
 
 According ^ chorus rose : 
 Down to the haven of the Isle, 
 The monks and nuns in order file 
 
 From Cuthbert's cloisters^ grim; 
 Banner, and cross, and relics there. 
 To meet Saint Hilda's maids, they bare ; 
 And, as they caught the sounds on air, 
 
 They echoed back the hymn. 
 The islanders, in joyous mood, 
 Rushed emulously through the flood 
 
 To hale ^ the bark to land ; 
 Conspicuous by her veil and hood, 
 
 1 Saint Cuthbert's. 
 
 2 In music, the technical word for the ending of a strain. 
 
 3 A chorus that accorded or harmonized. The idea seems to be that the 
 song of the monks and nuns singing at the Lindisfarne monastery accorded 
 or harmonized with the singing of the nuns on the galley. 
 
 4 See Glossary. 5 Haul. ^ 
 
II.] M ARM ION, 49 
 
 Signing! ^he cross, the Abbess stood, 
 And blessed them with her hand. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Suppose 2 we now the welcome said, 
 Suppose the convent banquet made : 
 
 All through the holy dome, 
 Through cloister, aisle, and gallery,^ 
 Wherever vestal maid might pry, 
 Nor risk to meet unhallowed eye, 
 
 The stranger sisters roam ; 
 Till fell the evening damp with dew. 
 And the sharp sea breeze coldly blew. 
 For there even summer night is chill. 
 Then, having strayed and gazed their fill. 
 
 They closed around the fire ; 
 And all, in turn, essayed to paint 
 The rival merits of their saint, 
 
 A theme that ne'er can tire 
 A holy maid ; for be it known 
 That their saint's honor is their own. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Then Whitby's nuns exulting told 
 How to their house three ^ barons bold 
 Must menial service do ; 
 
 1 Making the sign of the cross. 2 Let us suppose. ^ See Glossary, 
 4 According to a story about Whitby, William de Bruce, Ralph de Percy, 
 and a freeholder (Allatson) were boar-hunting in a wood of the Abbot of 
 Whitby. The boar fled into a hermit's chapel, and died. The huntsmen, 
 enraged upon finding the boar dead, fell upon the hermit, and killed him. 
 As a penalty they were compelled every Ascension Day (fortieth day after 
 Easter) to do menial labor, cutting sticks, carrying them on their backs, and 
 fixing them in the sands at Whitby against the tide. This ceremony was con- 
 tinued by a subsequent proprietor, whose name was Herbert. 
 
50 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 While horns blow out a note of shame, 
 And monks cry, '^ Fie upon your name! 
 In wrath, for loss of silvan game. 
 
 Saint Hilda's priest ye slew." — 
 *' This, on Ascension Day, each year, 
 AVhile laboring on our harbor-pier. 
 Must Herbert, Bruce, and Percy hear." 
 They told how in their convent-cell 
 A Saxon princess once did dwell, 
 
 The lovely Edelfled;i 
 And how, of thousand snakes, each one 
 AVas changed into a coiP of stone 
 
 When holy Hilda prayed ; 
 Themselves, within their holy bound. 
 Their stony folds had often found. 
 They told how sea fowls'^ pinions fail, 
 As over Whitby's towers they sail. 
 And, sinking down, with flutterings faint, 
 They do their homage to the saint. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Nor did Saint Cuthbert's daughters fail 
 
 To vie with these in holy tale ; 
 
 His body's resting-place, of old. 
 
 How oft^ their patron changed, they told ; 
 
 How, when the rude Dane bmned their pile,^ J 
 
 1 Daughter of King Oswy, who dedicated her to God in Whitby when a 
 little child, in gratitude for his victory over Penda, King of Mercia. 
 
 2 Coils of stone resembling a snake. These coils are still found in the 
 vicinity of Whitby. 
 
 3 Gulls and other birds frequently rested at Whitby after their flight over 
 the water. This fact, Hke that of the coils of stone, is picturesquely used as 
 miraculous. 
 
 ^ It is said that the body of Saint Cuthbert was frequently moved. 
 
 5 The Danes made a descent here about 875, and burned the monastery. 
 
II.] M ARM I ON. 51 
 
 The monks fled forth from Holy Isle ; 
 O'er Northern mountain, marsh, and nloor. 
 From sea to sea, from shore to shore, 
 Seven years Saint Cuthbert's corpse they bore. 
 
 They rested them in fair Melrose '} 
 But though, alive, he loved it well, 
 
 Not there his reHcs might repose ; 
 For, wondrous tale to tell! 
 
 In his stone coffin 2 forth he rides, 
 
 A ponderous bark for river tides, 
 
 Yet light as gossamer it ghdes 
 Downward to Tilmouth^ cell. 
 Nor long was his abiding there. 
 For southward did the saint repair ; 
 Chester-le-Street^ and Rippon^ saw 
 His holy corpse, ere Wardilaw^ 
 
 Hailed him with joy and fear ; 
 And, after many wanderings past. 
 He chose his lordly seat at last 
 Where his cathedral, huge and vast, 
 
 Looks down upon the Wear J 
 There, deep in Durham's^ Gothic shade. 
 His relics are in secret laid ; 
 
 But none may know the place. 
 Save of his holiest servants three. 
 Deep sworn to solemn secrecy. 
 
 Who share that wondrous grace.^ 
 
 1 An abbey on the Tweed in Scotland. It was at Melrose that Saint Cuth- 
 bert first became a monk. 
 
 2 The legend is that it bore him down the Tweed to Tilmouth. 
 
 3 The mouth of the Till, a river of Northumberland, tributary to the Tweed. 
 ^ A village on an old Roman road between Newcastle and Durham. 
 
 5 A city in Yorkshire, on the Ure. ^ A village near Durham. 
 
 "^ A river of England upon which Durham is situated. 
 
 8 Durham Cathedral, where Saint Cuthbert's remains now rest. 
 
 9 That is, share the privilege of knowing his resting-place. 
 
52 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 XV. 
 
 Who may his miracles declare? 
 
 Even Scotland's^ dauntless king and heir, 
 
 (Although with them they led 
 Galwegians,^ wild as ocean's gale, 
 And Lodon's^ knights, all sheathed in mail, 
 And the bold men of Teviotdale,^) 
 
 Before his standard fled. 
 'Twas he, to vindicate his reign, / 
 
 Edged ^ Alfred's falchion on the Dane, 
 And turned 6 the Conqueror back again, 
 When, with his Norman bowyer'^ band, 
 He came to waste Northumberland. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But fain Saint Hilda's nuns would learn 
 If on a rock, by Lindisfarne, 
 Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame 
 The sea-born beads ^ that bear his name: 
 Such tales had Whitby's fishers told, 
 
 1 When David I. of Scotland, and his son, invaded Northumberland in 
 1 136, the English soldiers marched against them, carrying the banner of Saint 
 Cuthbert, and won the victory of Northallerton. 
 
 2 People of Galloway, a district of southwestern Scotland. 
 
 s Loden or Lothian. The name was given to several counties around 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 * The valley of the Teviot, a river in southern Scotland. 
 
 5 It is said that Saint Cuthbert appeared to King Alfred when he hesitated 
 to attack the Danes, and promised him victory. 
 
 6 It is related that William the Conqueror, when he was proceeding against 
 the revolted Northumbrians in 1096, while opening the shrine of Saint Cuth- 
 bert, was suddenly seized with terror, and fled, leaving untasted a dinner which 
 had been prepared for him. 
 
 '^ See Glossary. 
 
 8 Shells found on Lindisfarne, called Saint Cuthbert's beads. 
 
 \ 
 
] M ARM I ON. 53 
 
 And said they might his shape behold, 
 
 And hear his anvil sound ; 
 A deadened clang, — a huge dim form. 
 Seen but, and heard, when gathering storm 
 
 And night were closing round. 
 But this, as tale of idle fame, 
 The nuns of Lindisfarne disclaim. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 While round the fire such legends go, 
 Far different was the scene of woe 
 Where, in a secret aisle beneath, 
 Council was held of life and death. 
 
 It was more dark and lone, that vault, 
 Than the worst dungeon cell : 
 
 Old Colwulf 1 built it, for his fault, 
 In penitence to dwell. 
 When he for cowl and beads laid down 
 The Saxon battle-ax and crown. 
 This den, which, chilling every sense 
 
 Of feeling, hearing, sight. 
 Was called the Vault of Penitence, 
 
 Excluding air and light, 
 Was by the prelate Sexhelm ^ made 
 A place of burial for such dead 
 As, having died in mortal sin,^ 
 Might not be laid the church within. 
 'Twas now a place of punishment ; 
 Whence if so loud a shriek were sent 
 
 As reached the upper air. 
 The hearers blessed^ themselves, and said 
 
 1 A king of Northumberland, who became a monk in 738. 
 
 2 Sixth bishop of Lindisfarne. 3 Willful transgression. 
 ^ Invoked a blessing upon. 
 
54 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 The spirits of the sinful dead 
 Bemoaned their torments there. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But though, in the monastic pile, 
 Did of this penitential aisle 
 
 Some vague tradition go, 
 Few only, save the Abbot, knew 
 Where the place lay ; and still more few 
 Were those who had from him the clew 
 
 To that dread vault to go. 
 Victim and executioner 
 Were blindfold when transported there. 
 In low dark rounds the arches hung, 
 From the rude rock the side walls sprung ; 
 The gravestones, rudely sculptured o'er, 
 Half sunk in earth, by time half wore^ 
 Were all the pavement of the floor ; 
 The mildew drops fell one by one 
 With tinkling plash upon the stone. 
 A cresset,! in an iron chain, 
 Which served to light this drear domain. 
 With damp and darkness seemed to strive. 
 As if it scarce might keep alive ; 
 And yet it dimly served to show 
 The awful conclave ^ met below. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 There, met to doom in secrecy. 
 Were placed the heads of convents three. 
 All servants of Saint Benedict, 
 The statutes of whose order strict 
 On iron table lay ; 
 
 1 See Glossary, 2 Council. 
 
M ARM ION, 55 
 
 In long black dress, on seats of stone, 
 Behind were these three judges shown 
 
 By the pale cresset's ray. 
 The Abbess of Saint Hilda's, there, 
 Sat for a space with visage bare, 
 Until, to hide her bosom's swell. 
 And teardrops that for pity fell, 
 
 She closely drew her veil : 
 Yon shrouded figure, as I guess, 
 By her proud mien and flowing dress, 
 Is Tynemouth's haughty Prioress, 
 
 And she with awe looks pale ; 
 And he, that ancient man, whose sight 
 Has long been quenched by age's night, 
 Upon whose wrinkled brow alone 
 Nor ruth nor mercy's trace is shown. 
 
 Whose look is hard and stern, — 
 Saint Cuthbert's Abbot is his style. 
 For sanctity called through the isle 
 
 The Saint of Lindisfarne. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Before them stood a guilty pair ; 
 But, though an equal fate they share, 
 Yet one alone deserves our care. 
 Her sex a page's dress belied ; 
 The cloak and doublet, loosely tied, 
 Obscured her charms, but could not hide. 
 
 Her cap down o'er her face she drew ; 
 And, on her doublet breast. 
 
 She tried to hide the badge of blue, 
 Lord Marmion's falcon crest. 
 But, at the Prioress' command, 
 A monk undid the silken band 
 
56 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 That tied her tresses fair, 
 And raised the bonnet ^ from her head, 
 And down her slender form they spread 
 
 In ringlets rich and rare. 
 Constance de Beverley ^ they know, 
 Sister professed of Fontevraud,^ 
 Whom the Church numbered with the dead, 
 For broken vows, and convent fled. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 When thus her face was given to view, 
 
 (x\lthough so palHd was her hue, 
 
 It did a ghastly contrast bear 
 
 To those bright ringlets glistering^ fair,) 
 
 Her look composed, and steady eye. 
 
 Bespoke a matchless constancy ; 
 
 And there she stood so calm and pale, 
 
 That, but her breathing did not fail. 
 
 And motion sHght of eye and head, 
 
 And of her bosom, warranted 
 
 That neither sense nor pulse she lacks. 
 
 You might have thought a form of wax. 
 
 Wrought to the very life, was there ; 
 
 So still she was, so pale, so fair. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Her comrade was a sordid soul. 
 
 Such as does murder for a meed;i 
 Who, but of fear, knows no control, 
 Because his conscience, seared and foul, 
 Feels not the import of his deed ; 
 
 1 See Glossary, 2 The page of Marmion (see Canto I. xv.). 
 
 3 An abbey situated on the Loire in France, changed into a prison. 
 
 4 Glistening. 
 
11.^ MARMION. 57 
 
 One whose bnite feeling ne'er aspires 
 Beyond hi^ own more brute desires. 
 Such tools the Tempter ever needs 
 To do the savagest of deeds ; 
 For them no visioned terrors daunt, 
 Their nights no fancied specters haunt ; 
 One fear with them, of all most base, — 
 The fear of death, — alone finds place. 
 This wretch was clad in frock and cowl, 
 And shamed not loud to moan and howl. 
 His body on the floor to dash. 
 And crouch, like hound beneath the lash ; 
 While his mute partner, standing near, 
 Waited her doom without a tear. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Yet well the luckless wretch might shriek, 
 Well might her paleness terror speak! 
 For there were seen in that dark wall 
 Two niches,^ narrow, deep, and tall ; — 
 Who enters at such grisly ^ door 
 Shall ne'er, I ween, find exit more. 
 In each a slender meal was laid. 
 Of roots, of water, and of bread ; 
 By each, in Benedictine dress, 
 Two haggard monks stood motionless. 
 Who, holding high a blazing torch. 
 Showed the grim entrance of the porch ; 
 Reflecting back the smoky beam, 
 The dark-red walls and arches gleam. 
 Hewn stones and cement were displayed. 
 And building tools in order laid. 
 
 1 The poet probably got this idea trom the fact that recreant vestals of 
 Rome were sometimes buried alive. 2 Frightful. 
 
58 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 These executioners \^«ere chose ^ 
 As men who were with mankind foes, 
 And, with despite ^ and envy fired, 
 Into the cloister had retired, 
 
 Or who, in desperate doubt of grace,^ 
 
 Strove by deep penance to efface 
 Of some foul crime the stain ; 
 
 For, as the vassals of her will, . 
 
 Such men the Church^ selected still 
 
 As either joyed in doing ill. 
 Or thought more grace to gain 
 If in her cause they wrestled down 
 Feelings their nature strove to own. 
 By strange device were they brought there, 
 They knew not how, and knew not where. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 . And now that blind old Abbot rose, 
 
 To speak the Chapter's doom 
 On those the wall was to inclose 
 
 Alive within the tomb, 
 But stopped because that woeful maid. 
 Gathering her powers, to speak essayed. 
 Twice she essayed, and twice in vain ; 
 Her accents might no utterance gain ; 
 Naught but imperfect miu-murs slip 
 From her convulsed and quivering lip ; 
 
 'Twixt eat:h attempt all was so still. 
 
 You seemed to hear a distant rill — 
 Twas ocean's swells and falls ; 
 
 1 Chosen. 2 Bitter feeling. 
 
 3 Pardon. 4 Roman Catholic Church. 
 
] M ARM I ON. 59 
 
 For though this vault of sin and fear 
 Was to the sounding surge so near, 
 A tempest there you scarce could hear, 
 So massive were the walls. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 At length an effort sent apart 
 
 The blood that curdled to her heart, 
 
 And light came to her eye. 
 And color dawned upon her cheek, — 
 A hectic^ and a fluttered ^ streak, 
 Like that left on the Cheviot peak 
 
 By autumn's stormy sky ; 
 And when her silence broke at length. 
 Still as she spoke she gathered strength, 
 
 And armed ^ herself to bear. 
 It was a fearful sight to see 
 Such high resolve and constancy 
 
 In form so soft and fair. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " I speak not to implore your grace, 
 Well know I for one minute's space 
 
 Successless^ might I sue:^ 
 Nor do I speak your prayers to gain ; 
 For if a death of lingering pain 
 To cleanse my sins be penance vain, 
 
 Vain are your masses too. — 
 I listened to a traitor's tale, 
 I left the convent and the veil ; ^ 
 For three long years I bowed my pride, 
 A horse-boy^ in his train to ride ; 
 
 1 Fevered. 2 Irregular; fluctuating. 3 Nerved. 
 
 * Without success. 5 Plead. ^ See Glossary, 
 
6o SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 And well my folly's meed he gave, 
 Who forfeited, to be his slave. 
 All here, and all beyond the grave. — 
 He saw young Clara's face more fair, 
 He knew her of broad lands the heir, 
 Forgot his vows, his faith forswore, 
 And Constance was beloved no more. — 
 'Tis an old tale, and often told ; 
 
 But did my fate and wish agree, 
 Ne'er had been read, in story old. 
 Of maiden true betrayed for gold, 
 That loved, or was avenged, hke me. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 '* The King approved his favorite's aim ; 
 In vain a rival barred his claim. 
 
 Whose fate with Clare's was plight. 
 For he attaints ^ that rival's fame 
 With treason's charge — and on they came 
 
 In mortal lists to fight. 
 Their oaths ^ are said. 
 Their prayers are prayed, 
 Their lances in the rest are laid. 
 
 They meet in mortal shock ; 
 And, hark! the throng, with thundering cry. 
 Shout ' Marmion, Marmion ! to the sky, 
 
 De Wilton 3 to the block! ' 
 Say, ye who preach Heaven shall decide 
 When in the hsts two champions ride — 
 
 Say, was Heaven's justice here, 
 When, loyal in his love and faith, 
 
 1 Stains. 
 
 2 Before engaging in combat, contestants took oath that their cause was 
 just. 3 See Canto I. xii. 
 
11.] M ARM ION, 6 1 
 
 Wilton found overthrow or death 
 
 Beneath a traitor's spear? 
 How false the charge, how true he fell, 
 This guilty packet best can tell." 
 Then drew a packet from her breast. 
 Paused, gathered voice, and spoke the rest. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Still was false Marmion's bridal stayed ; 
 To Whitby's convent fled the maid, 
 The hated match to shun. 
 
 * Ho! shifts 1 she thus? ' King Henry 2 cried ; 
 
 * Sir Marmion, she shall be thy bride. 
 
 If she were sworn a nun.* 
 One way remained — the King's command 
 Sent Marmion to the Scottish land : 
 I lingered here, and rescue planned 
 
 For Clara and for me : 
 This caitiff^ monk, for gold, did swear 
 He would to Whitby's shrine repair, 
 And by his drugs my rival fair 
 
 •A saint in heaven should be ; 
 But ill the dastard kept his oath, 
 Whose cowardice hath undone us both. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " And now my tongue the secret tells, 
 Not that remorse my bosom swells. 
 But to assure my soul that none 
 Shall ever wed with Marmion. 
 Had fortune my last hope betrayed, 
 This packet, to the King conveyed, 
 
 1 Contrives. 2 Henry VIII., King of England 1509-47. 
 
 3 Mear or contemptible. 
 
62 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Had given him to the headsman's stroke, 
 Although my heart that instant broke. — 
 Now, men of death, work forth your will, 
 For I can suffer, and be still ; 
 And come he slow, or come he fast, 
 It is but Death who comes at last. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " Yet dread me, from my living tomb, 
 
 Ye vassal slaves of bloody Rome! 
 
 If Marmion's late remorse should wake, 
 
 Full soon such vengeance will he take, 
 
 That you shall wish the fiery Dane 
 
 Had rather been your guest again. 
 
 Behind,^ a darker hour ascends! 
 
 The altars quake, the crosier 2 bends, 
 
 The ire of a despotic ^ king 
 
 Rides forth upon destruction's wing ; 
 
 Then shall these vaults, so strong and deep. 
 
 Burst open to the sea winds' sweep ; 
 
 Some traveler then shall find my bones 
 
 Whitening amid disjointed stones. 
 
 And, ignorant of priests' cruelty. 
 
 Marvel such relics here should be." 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Fixed was her look, and stern her air : 
 Back from her shoulders streamed her hair ; 
 The locks that wont^ her brow to shade 
 Stared^ up erectly from her head; 
 
 1 Behind the present ; that is, in the near future. 2 See Glossary. 
 
 3 A reference to the great rupture inaugurated by Henry VIII. between 
 the English Church and the Church of Rome. 
 
 4 Were accustomed. ^ Stood. 
 
II.] MARMION, 63 
 
 Her figure seemed to rise more high ; 
 
 Her voice, despair's wild energy 
 
 Had given a tone of prophecy. 
 
 Appalled the astonished conclave sate ; 
 
 With stupid eyes, the men of fate 
 
 Gazed on the light inspired form, 
 
 And listened for the avenging storm ; 
 
 The judges felt the victim's dread ; 
 
 No hand was moved, no word was said, 
 
 Till thus the Abbot's doom was given, 
 
 Raising his sightless balls to heaven : 
 
 " Sister, let thy sorrows cease ; 
 
 Sinful brother, part in peace ! " ^ 
 
 From that dire dungeon, place of doom, 
 Of execution too, and tomb. 
 
 Paced forth the judges three ; 
 Sorrow it were, and shame, to tell 
 The butcher work that there befell, 
 When they had glided from the cell 
 Of sin and misery, 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 An hundred winding steps convey 
 That conclave to the upper day ; 
 But, ere they breathed the fresher air. 
 They heard the shriekings of despair, 
 
 And many a stifled groan. 
 With speed their upward way they take, 
 (Such speed as age and fear can make,) 
 And crossed themselves for terror's sake, 
 
 As hurrying, tottering on : 
 Even in the vesper's heavenly tone 
 
 1 " Part in peace! " The formula was Vade in pacem, and was the sen- 
 tence used to pronounce doom upon the vestal virgins. 
 
64 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 They seemed to hear a dying groan, 
 And bade the passing knell ^ to toll 
 For welfare of a parting soul. 
 Slow o'er the midnight wave it swung, 
 Northumbrian rocks in answer rung ; 
 To Warkworth cell the echoes rolled, 
 His beads the wakeful hermit told ; 
 The Bamborough peasant raised his head. 
 But slept ere half a prayer he said ; 
 So far was heard the mighty knell, 
 The stag sprung up on Cheviot Fell,^ 
 Spread his broad nostril to the wind, 
 Listed before, aside, behind, 
 Then couched him down beside the hind. 
 And quaked among the mountain fern. 
 To hear that sound, so dull and stem. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 THE HOSTEL, OR INN. 
 
 THE livelong day Lord Marmion rode ; 
 The mountain path the Palmer showed 
 By glen and streamlet winded still. 
 Where stunted birches hid the rill. 
 They might not choose the lowland road. 
 For the Merse ^ foray ers were abroad. 
 Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey, 
 
 1 A bell rung for the passing of the soul from the body in death. 
 
 2 See Glossary. 
 
 3 The marshy, fertile part of Berwickshire bordering on the Tweed. 
 
III.] MARMION, 65 
 
 Had scarcely failed to bar their way. 
 
 Oft on the trampling band, from crown 
 
 Of some tall cliff, the deer looked down ; 
 
 On wing of jet, from his repose 
 
 In the deep heath, the blackcock ^ rose ; 
 
 Spnmg from the gorse ^ the timid roe. 
 
 Nor waited for the bending bow ; 
 
 And when the stony path began. 
 
 By which the naked peak they wan,- 
 
 Up flew the snowy ptarmigan. ^ 
 
 The noon had long been passed before 
 
 They gained the height of Lammermoor ; ^ 
 
 Thence winding down the northern way, 
 
 Before them, at the close of day. 
 
 Old Gifford's towers and hamlet ^ lay. 
 
 II. 
 
 No summons calls them to the tower,^ 
 
 To spend the hospitable hour. 
 
 To Scotland's camp the lord was gone ; 
 
 His cautious dame, in bower alone, 
 
 Dreaded her castle to unclose, 
 
 So late, to unknown friends or foes. 
 On through the hamlet as they paced, 
 Before a porch whose front was graced 
 With bush 6 and flagon trimly placed, 
 Lord Marmion drew his rein : 
 
 t See Glossary. 2 An old past tense of '' win." 
 
 3 A range of hills twenty miles north of the English Border. 
 
 4 A village in Haddington at the foot of the Lammermoor hills. 
 
 5 Yester House, or Gifford Castle, the home of the Marquis of Tweed- 
 dale. The towers in the previous stanza refer to the ruins of an old castle 
 belonging to the marquis's ancestors. 
 
 6 The sign of an inn ; usually an ivy branch, because ivy was sacred to 
 Bacchus, the god of wine. 
 
66 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 The village inn seemed large, though rude ; 
 
 Its cheerful fire and hearty food 
 Might well relieve his train. 
 Down from their seats the horsemen sprung, 
 With jingling spurs the courtyard rung ; 
 They bind their horses to the stall, 
 For forage, food, and firing ^ call, 
 And various clamor fills the hall : 
 Weighing the labor with the cost, 
 Toils everywhere the bustling host. 
 
 III. 
 
 Soon, by the chimney's merry blaze. 
 Through the rude hostel might you gaze ; 
 Might see where, in dark nook aloof, 
 The rafters of the sooty roof 
 
 Bore wealth of winter cheer ; ^ 
 Of sea fowl dried, and solands '^ store, 
 And gammons ^ of the tusky boar. 
 
 And savory haunch of deer. 
 The chimney arch projected wide ; 
 Above, around it, and beside. 
 
 Were tools for housewives' hand ; 
 Nor wanted, in that martial day, 
 The implements of Scottish fray. 
 
 The buckler, lance, and brand. 
 Beneath its shade, the place of state, 
 On oaken settle Marmion sate, 
 And viewed around the blazing hearth. 
 His followers mix in noisy mirth ; 
 Whom with brown ale, in jolly tide. 
 From ancient vessels ranged aside. 
 Full actively their host supplied. 
 
 1 Preparation of a fire to warm them. 2 Provisions. 3 gee Glossary, 
 
in.] M ARM I ON. 67 
 
 IV. 
 
 Theirs was the glee of martial breast, 
 And laughter theirs at little jest ; 
 And oft Lord Marmion deigned to aid, 
 And mingle in the mirth they made ; 
 For though, with men of high degree, 
 The proudest of the proud was he, 
 Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art 
 To win the soldier's hardy heart. 
 They love a captain to obey. 
 Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May ; 
 With open hand, and brow as free. 
 Lover of wine and minstrelsy ; 
 Ever the first to scale a tower. 
 As venturous in a lady's bower : ^ — 
 Such buxom chief shall lead his host 
 From India's fires to Zembla's 2 frost. 
 
 V. 
 
 Resting upon his pilgrim staff. 
 
 Right opposite the Palmer stood ; 
 His thin dark visage seen but half. 
 
 Half hidden by his hood. 
 Still fixed on Marmion was his look, 
 Which he, who ill such gaze could brook, 
 
 Strove by a frown to quell ; 
 But not for that, though more than once 
 Full met their stern encountering glance. 
 
 The Palmer's visage fell. 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
 2 Nova Zambia (Russian, Novaya Zemlya^ ** New Land"), islands in the 
 Arctic Ocean north of Russia. 
 
68 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 VI. 
 
 By fits less frequent from the crowd 
 Was heard the burst of laughter loud ; 
 For still, as squire and archer stared 
 On that dark face and matted beard, 
 
 Their glee and game dechned. 
 All gazed at length in silence drear, 
 Unbroke save when in comrade's ear 
 Some yeoman, wondering in his fear, 
 
 Thus whispered forth his mind : 
 ''Saint Mar}'! saw'st thou e'er such sight? 
 How pale his cheek, his eye how bright, 
 Whene'er the firebrand's fickle ^ hght 
 
 Glances beneath his cowl! 
 Full on our lord he sets his eye ; 
 For his best palfrey would not I 
 
 Endure that sullen scowl." 
 
 VII. 
 
 But Marmion, as to chase - the awe 
 Which thus had quelled their hearts who saw 
 The ever-varv'ing firelight show 
 That figiue stem, and face of woe. 
 
 Now called upon a squire : 
 " Fitz-Eustace, know'st thou not some lay, 
 To speed the lingering night away? 
 
 We slumber by the fire." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 '' So please you," thus the youth rejoined, 
 '' Our choicest minstrel's left behind. 
 Ill may we hope to please your ear, 
 
 1 Varying. 2 "As to chase," i.e., as if to chase away. 
 
III.] M ARM I ON, 69 
 
 Accustomed Constant's ^ strains to hear. 
 The harp full deftly can he strike, 
 And wake the lover's lute alike ; 
 To dear Saint Valentine 2 no thrush 
 Sings livelier from a springtide bush, 
 No nightingale her lovelorn tune 
 More sweetly warbles to the moon.^ 
 Woe to the cause, whate'er it be, 
 Detains from us his melody, 
 Lavished on rocks, and billows stem, 
 Or duller monks of Lindisfarne. 
 Now must I venture as I may, 
 To sing his favorite roundelay.''^ 
 
 IX. 
 
 A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had, 
 The air he chose was wild and sad ; 
 Such have I heard, in Scottish land, 
 . Rise from the busy harvest band,^ 
 When falls before the mountaineer. 
 On lowland plains, the ripened ear. 
 Now one shrill voice the notes prolong. 
 Now a wild chorus swells the song : 
 Oft have I hstened and stood still 
 As it came softened up the hill, 
 And deemed it the lament of men 
 Who languished for their native glen, 
 And thought how sad would be such sound 
 On Susquehanna's swampy ground, 
 Kentucky's wood-encumbered brake,^ 
 
 1 The name by which Constance de Beverley passed when acting as a page. 
 
 2 On Saint Valentine's Day (Feb. 14) birds were supposed to pair. 
 
 3 The nightingale sings only at night. 4 See Glossary. 
 
 5 At harvest time the Scottish Highlanders went down to the Lowlands 
 to work for hire. 
 
70 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Or wild Ontario's boundless lake, 
 Where heartsick exiles,^ in the strain. 
 Recalled fair Scotland's hills again! 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Where shall the lover rest, 
 
 Whom the fates sever 
 From his true maiden's breast, 
 
 Parted forever? 
 Where, through groves deep and high, 
 
 Sounds the far billow. 
 Where early violets die, 
 
 Under the willow. 
 
 Chorus, 
 Eleii loro, ^ etc. Soft shall be his pillow. 
 
 There, through the summer day. 
 
 Cool streams are laving ; ^ 
 There, while the tempests sway, 
 
 Scarce are boughs waving; 
 There thy rest shalt thou take. 
 
 Parted forever, 
 Never again to wake, 
 
 Never, oh, never! 
 
 Chorus, 
 Eleu loro^ etc. Never, oh, never! 
 
 1 Emigrants. 
 
 2 Perhaps from the Italian Ela loro ('*Alas to them!"). 
 
 2 Used as if intransitive ; the object, the banks of the stream, not being 
 expressed. 
 
MARMION. 7 1 
 
 XI. 
 
 Where shall the traitor rest, 
 
 He, the deceiver, 
 Who could win maiden's breast, 
 
 Ruin and leave her? 
 In the lost battle. 
 
 Borne down by the flying, 
 Where mingles war's rattle 
 
 With groans of the dying. 
 
 Chorus, 
 Eleu loro^ etc. There shall he be lying. 
 
 Her wing shall the eagle flap 
 
 O'er the false-hearted ; 
 His warm blood the wolf shall lap. 
 
 Ere life be parted. 
 Shame and dishonor sit 
 
 By his grave ever ; 
 Blessing shall hallow it, — 
 
 Never, oh, never! 
 
 Chorus. 
 Eleu loro^ etc. Never, oh, never! 
 
 XII. 
 
 It ceased, the melancholy sound. 
 And silence sunk on all around. 
 The air was sad ; but sadder still 
 
 It fell on Marmion's ear, 
 And plained ^ as if disgrace and ill, 
 
 1 Complained; wailed. 
 
72 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 And shameful death, were near. 
 He drew his mantle past his face, 
 
 Between it and the band, 
 And rested with his head a space, 
 
 Reclining on his hand. 
 His thoughts I scan not ; but I ween. 
 That, could their import have been seen. 
 The meanest groom in all the hall, 
 That e'er tied courser to a stall. 
 Would scarce have wished to be their prey 
 For Lutterward and Fontenaye. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 High minds, of native pride and force, 
 Most deeply feel thy pangs. Remorse! 
 Fear for their scoin^ge mean villains have, 
 Thou art the torturer of the brave ! 
 Yet fatal ^ strength they boast to steel 
 Their minds to bear the wounds they feel, 
 Even while they writhe beneath the smart 
 Of civil conflict ^ in the heart. 
 For soon Lord Marmion raised his head, 
 And, smiling, to Fitz-Eustace said, 
 " Is it not strange, that, as ye sung. 
 Seemed in mine ear a death peal ^ rung, 
 Such as in nunneries they toll 
 For some departing sister's soul? 
 
 Say, what may this portend?"* 
 Then first the Palmer silence broke, 
 (The livelong day he had not spoke,) 
 
 '' The death of a dear friend." ^ 
 
 1 Fatal, because hardened against future repentance. 
 
 2 Strife between Marmion's pride and his better nature. 
 
 3 See Canto II. xxxiii. 4 Imply; foretell. 
 
 5 A tinkling in the ears was thought to intimate the death of a friend. 
 
III.] M ARM I ON. 73 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Marmion, whose steady heart and eye 
 Ne'er changed in worst extremity ; 
 Marmion, whose soul could scantly brook 
 Even from his King a haughty look, 
 Whose accent of command controlled 
 In camps the boldest of the bold, — 
 Thought, look, and utterance failed him now, 
 FalPn was his glance, and flushed his brow : 
 
 For either in the tone. 
 Or something in the Palmer's look, 
 So full upon his conscience strook,i 
 
 That answer he found none. 
 Thus oft it haps, that when within 
 They shrink at sense of secret sin, 
 
 A feather daunts the brave ; 
 A fool's wild speech confounds the wise, 
 And proudest princes vail ^ their eyes 
 
 Before their meanest slave. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Well might he falter! By his aid 
 Was Constance Beverley betrayed. 
 Not that he augured of ^ the doom 
 Which on the living closed the tomb ; 
 But, tired to hear the desperate maid 
 Threaten by turns, beseech, upbraid, 
 And wroth because in wild despair 
 She practiced on ^ the hf e of Clare, 
 
 1 An old past tense of '' strike." 
 
 2 Drop ; cast down. 
 
 ^ '* Augured of," i.e., imagined or guessed. 
 4 '* Practiced on," i.e., plotted against. 
 
74 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Its fugitive the Church he gave, 
 Though not a victim, but a slave, 
 And deemed restraint in convent strange 
 Would hide her wrongs and her revenge. ^ 
 Himself, proud Henry's favorite peer, 
 Held Romish thunders ^ idle fear ; 
 Secure his pardon he might hold 
 For some slight mulct ^ of penance-gold. 
 Thus judging, he gave secret way,^ 
 When the stem priests surprised their prey. 
 His train but deemed the favorite page 
 Was left behind to spare his age ; 
 Or other if they deemed,^ none dared 
 To mutter what he thought and heard : 
 Woe to the vassal who durst pry 
 Into Lord Marmion's privacy! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 His conscience slept — he deemed her well, 
 And safe secured in distant cell ; 
 But, wakened ^ by her favorite lay. 
 And that strange Palmer's boding say,*^ 
 That fell so ominous and drear 
 Full on the object ^ of his fear. 
 To aid remorse's venomed throes. 
 Dark tales of convent vengeance rose ; 
 
 1 ** Would hide," etc., i.e., prevent her taking revenge. 
 
 2 That is, excommunication, which was the penalty for enticing a nun 
 from a convent. 
 
 3 Latin, mulcta, miilta (*' a penalty ''). 
 
 4 ^' Gave secret way," i.e., made no resistance. 
 
 s That is, if they deemed Constant other than a page. 
 
 6 His conscience wakened. 
 
 7 " Boding say," i.e., foreboding remark. 
 3 Constance's death, 
 
m.] MARMION. 75 
 
 And Constance, late betrayed and scorned, 
 All lovely on his soul returned ; 
 Lovely as when at treacherous call 
 She left her convent's peaceful wall, 
 Crimsoned with shame, with terror mute, 
 Dreading alike escape, pursuit. 
 Till love, victorious o'er alarms, 
 Hid fears and blushes in his arms. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 "Alas!" he thought, ''how changed that mien! 
 
 How changed these timid looks have been, 
 
 Since years of guilt and of disguise 
 
 Have steeled her brow, and armed her eyes! 
 
 No more of virgin terror speaks 
 
 The blood that mantles ^ in her cheeks : 
 
 Fierce ^ and unfeminine ^ are there, 
 
 Frenzy for joy, for grief despair; 
 
 And I the cause — for whom were given 
 
 Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven ! — 
 
 Would," thought he, as the picture grows, 
 
 " I on its stalk had left the rose ! 
 
 Oh, why should man's success remove 
 
 The very charms that wake his love? 
 
 Her convent's peaceful solitude 
 
 Is now a prison harsh and rude ; 
 
 And, pent within the narrow cell. 
 
 How will her spirit chafe and swell ! 
 
 How brook the stern monastic laws! 
 
 The penance how — and I the cause ! — 
 
 Vigil and scourge, perchance even worse ! " 
 
 1 Covers like a mantle. 
 
 2 These two adjectives modify ** looks " understood, of which '' frenzy" 
 and '* despair " are explanatory. 
 
^6 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 And twice he rose to cry, '' To horse! " 
 And twice his sovereign's mandate ^ came, 
 Like damp upon a kindhng flame ; 
 And twice he thought, '^ Gave I not charge 
 She should be safe, though not at large ? ^ 
 They durst not, for their island, shred ^ 
 One golden ringlet from her head." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 While thus in Marmion's bosom strove 
 
 Repentance and reviving love. 
 
 Like whirlwinds, whose contending sway 
 
 I've seen Loch Vennachar^ obey. 
 
 Their host the Palmer's speech had heard, 
 
 And, talkative, took up the word : 
 
 ^^ Ay, reverend pilgrim, you who stray 
 From Scotland's simple land away, 
 
 To visit realms afar. 
 Full often learn the art ^ to know 
 Of future weal or futiue woe, 
 
 By word, or sign, or star ; 
 Yet might a knight his fortune hear, 
 If, knight-Kke, he despises fear, 
 Not far from hence ; — if fathers old 
 Aright our hamlet legend told." 
 These broken words the menials move, 
 (For marvels still the vulgar love,) 
 
 1 The recollection of his mission for the King checks Marmion as he rises 
 to carry out his impulse to rescue Constance. 
 
 2 '' At large," i.e., at liberty. 
 
 3 See Glossary, 
 
 4 An enlargement of the Teith River, three miles and a half long, in 
 Perthshire, central Scotland, and two miles and a half southwest of Callan • 
 der. Scott describes the scenery of this district in the Lady of the Lake. 
 
 5 Astrology. 
 
MARMION, 77 
 
 And, Marmion giving license cold, 
 His tale the host thus gladly told: — 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE HOST S TALE. 
 
 " A clerk ^ could tell what years have flown 
 
 Since Alexander 2 filled our throne, 
 
 (Third monarch of that warlike name,) 
 
 And eke ^ the time when here he came 
 
 To seek Sir Hugo,^ then our lord : 
 
 A braver never drew a sword ; 
 
 A wiser never, at the hour 
 
 Of midnight, spoke the word of power ;^ 
 
 The same whom ancient records call 
 
 The founder of the Goblin-Hall.^ 
 
 I would, Sir Knight, your longer stay 
 
 Gave you ^ that cavern to survey. 
 
 Of lofty roof and ample size, 
 
 Beneath the castle deep it lies : 
 
 To hew the living '^ rock profound, 
 
 The floor to pave, the arch to round, 
 
 There never toiled a mortal arm. 
 
 It all was wrought by word and charm ; 
 
 And I have heard my grandsire say 
 
 That the wild clamor and affray 
 
 Of those dread artisans of hell, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 
 
 2 Alexander III. (1241-86), King of Scotland at the age of nine, and, 
 according to Scott, *' tlie last Scottish king of pure Celtic blood." 
 
 2 Lord Gifford, owner of the old castle of Yester. 
 ^ " Word of power," i.e., magical word. 
 
 5 A large vault under the old Yester Castle, called Bo- Hall or Hobgoblin- 
 Hall on account of its supposed magical origin. 
 
 ^ " Gave you," i.e., gave you opportunity. 7 Unquarried. 
 
78 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Who labored under Hugo's spell, 
 Sounded as loud as ocean's war 
 Among the caverns of Dunbar. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " The King Lord GiflFord's castle sought, 
 Deep laboring with uncertain thought. 
 Even then he mustered all his host, 
 To meet upon the western coast ; 
 For Norse i and Danish galleys ^ plied 
 Their oars within the Frith of Clyde.^ 
 There floated Haco's ^ banner trim 
 Above Norweyan ^ warriors grim, 
 Savage of heart, and large of limb, 
 Threatening both continent and isle, 
 Bute,^ Arran,^ Cunninghame/ and KyleJ 
 Lord Gifford, deep beneath the ground,^ 
 Heard Alexander's bugle sound, 
 And tarried not his garb to change. 
 But in his wizard habit strange 
 Came forth, — a quaint and fearful sight : 
 His mantle lined with fox skins white ; 
 His high and wrinkled forehead bore 
 A pointed cap, such as of yore 
 Clerks say that Pharaoh's magi ^ wore ; 
 His shoes were marked with cross and spell ; 
 
 1 Scandinavian. 2 gee Glossary. 
 
 3 A river in southwestern Scotland. The wide opening at the mouth of 
 a river is called a " frith " or '' firth." 
 
 4 King of Norway, who in 1263 made a descent on Scotland at Largs, in 
 Ayrshire. He was defeated by Alexander HI., and retreated to the Orkneys, 
 where he died. 
 
 ^ Norwegian. ^ An island in the Frith of Clyde. 
 
 • '^ A division of Ayr County, southwestern Scotland. 
 » In Hobgoblin-Hall. 
 
 ^ 
 
III.] MARMION, 79 
 
 Upon his breast a pentacle ;i 
 His zone, of virgin ^ parchment thin, 
 Or, as some tell, of dead man's skin, 
 Bore many a planetary sign. 
 Combust,! and retrograde,^ and trine ;i 
 And in his hand he held prepared 
 A naked sword without a guard. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 '^ Dire dealings with the fiendish race 
 Had marked strange lines upon his face ; 
 Vigil and fast had worn him grim. 
 His eyesight dazzled seemed and dim, 
 As one unused to upper day ; 
 Even his own menials with dismay 
 Beheld, Sir Knight, the grisly sire ^ 
 In his unwonted wild attire ; 
 Unwonted, for traditions run. 
 He seldom thus beheld the sun. — 
 ' I know,' he said, — his voice was hoarse, 
 And broken seemed its hollow force, — 
 ' I know the cause, although untold, 
 Why the King seeks his vassaPs hold: 
 Vainly from me my liege would know 
 His kingdom's future weal or woe ; 
 But yet, if strong his arm and heart, 
 His courage may do more than art. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " ' Of middle air the demons proud. 
 Who ride upon the racking ^ cloud, 
 Can read in fixed or wandering star 
 The issue of events afar, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 Fresh; new. ^ Flying. 
 
8o SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 But Still their sullen aid withhold, 
 
 Save when by mightier force controlled. 
 
 Such late I summoned to my hall ; 
 
 And though so potent was the call 
 
 That scarce the deepest nook of hell 
 
 I deemed a refuge from the spell, 
 
 Yet, obstinate in silence still, 
 
 The haughty demon mocks my skill. 
 
 But thou — who little know'st thy might 
 
 As born upon that blessed night i 
 
 When yawning graves and dying groan 
 
 Proclaimed hell's empire overthrown — 
 
 With untaught valor shalt compel 
 
 Response denied to magic spell.' — 
 
 ' Gramercy,' quoth our monarch free, 
 
 ' Place him but front to front with me, 
 
 And by this good and honored brand, 
 
 The gift of Coeur-de-Lion's ^ hand, 
 
 Soothly I swear, that, tide what tide,^ 
 
 The demon shall a buffet bide.'^ — 
 
 His bearing bold the wizard viewed, 
 
 And thus, well pleased, his speech renewed : 
 
 'There spoke the blood of Malcolm!^ — mark: 
 
 Forth pacing hence, at midnight dark. 
 
 The rampart seek, whose circHng crown 
 
 Crests^ the ascent of yonder down:^ 
 
 A southern entrance shalt thou find ; 
 
 There halt, and there thy bugle wind, 
 
 ^ Good Friday night. Persons born on this or Christmas night were 
 thought to be able to see and control spirits. 
 
 2 The Lion Heart, Richard I., King of England 1189-99. 
 
 3 ** Tide what tide," i.e., come what may. 
 
 4 '* Buffet bide," i.e., receive a blow. 
 
 5 Probably Malcolm III. (1024-93), called Malcolm of Canmore, the 
 most famous of the four Malcolms, ancestors of Alexander. 
 
 ^ Surmounts. "^ See Glossary. 
 
 I 
 
III.] M ARM I ON, 8 1 
 
 And trust thine elfin foe to see 
 
 In guise of thy worst enemy : 
 
 Couch then thy lance, and spur thy steed — 
 
 Upon him ! and Saint George to speed ! ^ 
 
 If he go down, thou soon shalt know 
 
 Whate'er these airy sprites can show ; 
 
 If thy heart fail thee in the strife, 
 
 I am no warrant for thy life.* 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Soon as the midnight bell did ring, 
 Alone and armed, forth rode the King 
 To that old camp's deserted round. 
 Sir Knight, you well might mark the mound, 
 Left-hand 2 the town, — the Pictish race^ 
 The trench, long since, in blood did trace ; 
 The moor around is brown and bare, 
 The space within is green and fair. 
 The spot our village children know, 
 For there the earliest wild flowers grow ; 
 But woe betide the wandering wight,* 
 That treads its circle in the night! 
 The breadth across, a bowshot clear, 
 Gives ample space for full career;^ 
 Opposed to the four points of heaven. 
 By four deep gaps are ^ entrance given. 
 The southernmost our monarch passed,"^ 
 Halted, and blew a gallant blast ; 
 
 1 ** Saint George to speed," i.e., Saint George aid thee. 
 
 2 On the left-hand side of. 
 
 3 '* Pictish race," i.e., a race of uncertain origin, inhabiting the Highlands 
 in the early history of Scotland. 4 Person. 
 
 5 The tournament term for the riding of knights towards each other at full 
 speed in the lists. 
 
 6 Used for '' IS." 7 Passed through. 
 
82 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 And on the north, within the ring, 
 Appeared the form of England's King,i 
 Who then, a thousand leagues afar, 
 In Palestine waged holy war ; 
 Yet arms like England's did he wield, 
 Alike the leopards ^ in the shield, 
 Alike his Syrian courser's ^ frame. 
 The rider's length of limb the same : 
 Long afterwards did Scotland know 
 Fell ^ Edward was her deadhest foe. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " The vision made our monarch start, 
 But soon he manned his noble heart, 
 And in the first career they ran, 
 The Elfin ^ Knight fell, horse and man ; 
 Yet did a splinter of his lance 
 Through Alexander's visor ^ glance. 
 And rased ^ the skin, — a puny wound. 
 The King, light leaping to the ground, 
 With naked blade his phantom foe 
 Compelled the future war to show. 
 Of Largs '^ he saw the glorious plain. 
 Where still gigantic bones remain. 
 
 Memorial of the Danish ^ war ; 
 Himself he saw, amid the field, 
 On high his brandished war ax wield. 
 
 And strike proud Haco from his car,^ 
 
 1 Edward I., called Longshanks (1239-1307). He strove to gain control 
 over Scotland, and in 1296 temporarily conquered it. 
 
 2 The royal standard of England bears two sets of three leopards or lions 
 courant (running), gold on a red ground. 
 
 3 *' Syrian courser," i.e., a steed from the Holy Land. 
 
 4 Bloodthirsty. 5 Fairy. ^ See Glossary. 
 ^ See Note 4, p. 78. 8 Often used for Norse. 9 Chariot. 
 
III.] MARMION. ^Z 
 
 While all around the shadowy kings 
 Denmark's grim ravens ^ cowered their wings. 
 'Tis said, that, in that awful night, 
 Remoter visions ^ met his sight, 
 Foreshowing future conquest far. 
 When our sons' sons wage Northern war ; 
 A royal city, tower and spire. 
 Reddened ^ the midnight sky with fire, 
 And shouting crews her navy bore 
 Triumphant to the victor shore. 
 Such signs may learned clerks explain — 
 They pass the wit ^ of simple swain. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 '* The joyful King turned home again. 
 Headed his host, and quelled the Dane ; 
 But yearly, when returned the night 
 Of his strange combat with the sprite, 
 
 His wound must bleed and smart ; 
 Lord Gifford then would gibing say, 
 ' Bold as ye were, my liege, ye pay 
 
 The penance of your start.' ^ 
 Long since, beneath Dunfermline's ^ nave, 
 King Alexander fills his grave. 
 
 Our Lady '^ give him rest ! 
 Yet still the knightly spear and shield 
 
 1 The sails and banners of the Northmen bore figures of black ravens, to 
 which miraculous powers were attributed ; the belief being that they flapped 
 their wings before a victory, and drooped them before a defeat. 
 
 2 Scott refers to the taking at Copenhagen, Sept. 2, 1807, of the Danish 
 fleet, which England feared France would use against her. This event oc- 
 curred while he was writing Marmion. 
 
 3 In the bombardment, Copenhagen was set on fire in several places. 
 
 4 " Pass the wit," i.e., are beyond the knowledge. 
 
 5 Momentary fright (first line of Stanza xxiv.). 
 
 6 An abbey about thirteen miles from Edinburgh. '^ The Virgin Mary. 
 
84 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 The Elfin Warrior doth wield 
 
 Upon the brown hill's breast ; 
 And many a knight hath proved his chance 
 In the charmed ring to break a lance, 
 
 But all have foully sped ; i 
 Save two, as legends tell, and they 
 Were Wallace 2 wight and Gilbert Hay.^ — 
 
 Gentles, my tale is said." 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The quaighs ^ were deep, the liquor strong, 
 And on the tale the yeoman throng 
 Had ^ made a comment sage and long, 
 
 But Marmion gave a sign : 
 And with their lord the squires retire, 
 The rest around the hostel fire 
 
 Their drowsy limbs recline ; 
 For pillow, underneath each head, 
 The quiver and the targe ^ were laid. 
 Deep slumbering on the hostel floor. 
 Oppressed with toil and ale, they snore : 
 The dying flame, in fitful change, 
 Threw on the group its shadows strange. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Apart, and nestling in the hay 
 Of a waste loft, Fitz-Eustace lay ; 
 Scarce by the pale moonlight were seen 
 
 1 *' Foully sped," i.e., met mischance. 
 
 2 William Wallace (1270- 1305), a Scottish hero who for many years de- 
 fended Scotland against the attacks of Edward I. He was finally taken by 
 the English, and executed. 
 
 2 One of the companions of Robert Bruce, who continued the struggle 
 with England begun by Wallace. 
 
 4 See Glossary, 5 Would have. 
 
III.] HARM I ON. 85 
 
 The foldings of his mantle green : 
 Lightly he dreamt, as youth will dream, 
 Of sport by thicket, or by stream, 
 Of hawk or hound, of ring ^ or glove,^ 
 Or, hghter yet, of lady's love. 
 A cautious tread his slumber broke, 
 And close beside him, when he woke, 
 In moonbeam half, and half in gloom, 
 Stood a tall form, with nodding plume ; 
 But, ere his dagger Eustace drew, 
 His master Marmion's voice he knew. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 " Fitz-Eustace ! rise, — I cannot rest ; 
 Yon churl's wild legend haunts my breast. 
 And graver thoughts have chafed my mood ; 
 The air must cool my feverish blood, 
 And fain would I ride forth to see 
 The scene of elfin chivalry. 
 Arise, and saddle me my steed ; 
 And, gentle Eustace, take good heed 
 Thou dost not rouse these drowsy slaves ; 
 I would not that the prating knaves 
 Had cause for saying, o'er their ale. 
 That I could credit such a tale." 
 Then softly down the steps they slid ; 
 Eustace the stable door undid, 
 And, darkling,^ Marmion's steed arrayed. 
 While, whispering, thus the baron said : — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " Didst never, good my youth, hear tell. 
 That on the hoiu* when I was born, 
 
 1 The tilting ring. 2 The glove was given in challenge. 
 
 3 In the dark. 
 
86 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Saint George, who graced my sire's chapelle,! 
 Down from his steed of marble fell, 
 
 A weary wight forlorn? 
 The flattering chaplains all agree, 
 The champion left his steed to me. 
 I would, the omen's truth to show, 
 That I could meet this elfin foe! 
 Blithe would I battle for the right 
 To ask one question at the sprite. — 
 Vain thought! for elves, if elves there be, 
 An empty race, by fount or sea, 
 To dashing waters dance and sing, 
 Or round the green oak wheel their ring." 
 Thus speaking, he his steed bestrode, 
 And from the hostel slowly rode. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Fitz-Eustace followed him abroad. 
 And marked him pace the village road. 
 
 And hstened to his horse's tramp. 
 Till, by the lessening sound. 
 
 He judged that of the Pictish camp 
 Lord Marmion sought the round. 
 Wonder it seemed, in the squire's eyes. 
 That one so wary held, and wise, — 
 Of whom 'twas said, he scarce received 
 For gospel what the Church beheved, — 
 
 Should, stirred by idle tale. 
 Ride 'forth in silence of the night. 
 As hoping half to meet a sprite. 
 
 Arrayed in plate and mail. 
 For little did Fitz-Eustace know 
 That passions, in contending flow, 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
III.] MARMION, 89 
 
 Unfix the strongest mind ; 
 Wearied from doubt to doubt to flee, 
 We welcome fond credulity, 
 
 Guide confident, though blind. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Little for this Fitz- Eustace cared, 
 But, patient, waited till he heard 
 At distance, pricked to utmost speed, 
 The foot-tramp of a flying steed 
 
 Come townward rushing on ; 
 First, dead, as if on turf it trode, 
 Then, clattering on the village road, — 
 In other pace than forth he yode,i 
 
 Returned Lord Marmion. 
 Down hastily he spnmg from selle,^ 
 And in his haste well-nigh he fell ; 
 To the squire's hand the rein he threw, 
 And spoke no word as he withdrew ; 
 But yet the moonlight did betray. 
 The falcon crest was soiled with clay ; 
 And plainly might Fitz-Eustace see, 
 By stains upon the charger's knee 
 And his left side, that on the moor 
 He had not kept his footing sure. 
 Long musing on these wondrous signs, 
 At length to rest the squire reclines. 
 Broken and short ; for still, between, 
 Would dreams of terror intervene : 
 Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark 
 The first notes of the morning lark. 
 
 1 An obsolete past tense of **go." 
 
 2 The French for '' saddle," 
 
90 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 I trust that soon a conjuring band, 
 With Enghsh cross ^ and blazing brand, 
 Shall drive the devils from this land 
 
 To their infernal home ; 
 For in this haunted den, I trow, 
 All night they trampled to and fro." 
 The laughing host looked on the hire, 
 '' Gramercy, gentle southern squire, 
 And if thou comest among the rest. 
 With Scottish broadsword to be blest. 
 Sharp be the brand, and siu-e the blow, 
 And short the pang to undergo." 
 Here stayed their talk, for Marmion 
 Gave now the signal to set on. 
 The Palmer showing forth the way. 
 They journeyed all the morning day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The greensward way was smooth and good, 
 
 Through Humbie's and through Saltoun's wood,^ — 
 
 A forest glade, which, varying still. 
 
 Here gave a view of dale and hill. 
 
 There narrower closed, till overhead 
 
 A vaulted screen the branches made. 
 
 "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 defense to break a spear. 
 
 1 *' A conjuring band," etc., i.e., an English army, bearing the cross of 
 Saint George. 
 
 2 Glades about the villages of Humbie and Saltoun, not far from Edin- 
 burgh. 3 See Glossary, 
 
IV.] M ARM ION, 91 
 
 Here, too, are twilight nooks and dells ; 
 And oft in such, the story tells. 
 The damsel kind, from danger freed. 
 Did grateful pay her champion's meed." 
 He spoke to cheer Lord Marmion's mind, 
 Perchance to show his lore designed ; 
 
 For Eustace much had pored 
 Upon a huge romantic tome,i 
 In the hall window of his home, 
 Imprinted at the antique dome 
 
 Of Caxton 2 or De Worde.^ 
 Therefore he spoke, — but spoke in vain, 
 For Marmion answered naught again. 
 
 V. 
 
 Now sudden, distant trumpets shrill, 
 In notes prolonged by wood and hill. 
 
 Were heard to echo far ; 
 Each ready archer grasped his bow. 
 But by the flourish ^ soon they know 
 
 They breathed no point of war.^ 
 Yet cautious, as in foeman's land. 
 Lord Marmion's order speeds the band 
 
 Some opener ground to gain ; 
 And scarce a furlong had they rode, 
 When thinner trees, receding, showed 
 
 A little woodland plain. 
 Just in that advantageous glade 
 The halting troop a Kne had made, 
 
 1 Book. 
 
 2 William Caxton, who introduced the art of printing into England be- 
 tween 1471 and 1477. 
 
 3 Wynkin de Worde, who came from Germany with Caxton, was associated 
 with him, and carried on the work after his death. 
 
 * The trumpet call. 5 ** Point of war," i.e., signal for attack. 
 
92 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 As forth from the opposing shade 
 Issued a gallant train. 
 
 VI. 
 
 First came the trumpets,^ at whose clang 
 So late the forest echoes rang ; 
 On prancing steeds they forward pressed, 
 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,2 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. 
 
 VII. 
 
 He was a man of middle age ; 
 In aspect manly, grave, and sage, 
 
 As on King's errand come ; 
 But in the glances of his eye, 
 A penetrating, keen, and sly 
 
 Expression found its home ; 
 The flash of that satiric ^ rage. 
 Which, bursting on the early stage, 
 Branded the vices of the age. 
 
 And broke the keys of Rome.** 
 
 1 Trumpeters. 2 gee Glossary. 
 
 3 Sir Da\ad Lindesay, Lord Lion King-at-arms, wrote a play called 
 "The Satyre of Three Estates," in which he exposed the abuses of the 
 Church. 
 
 ^ " Keys of Rome," i.e., power of the Roman Catholic Church. 
 
 I 
 
IV.] M ARM ION. 93 
 
 On milk-white palfrey forth he paced ; 
 His cap 1 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 tressure ^ might you see, 
 
 First by Achaius ^ borne. 
 The thistle ^ and the fleur-de-lis,^ 
 And gallant unicorn. ^ 
 So bright the King's armorial 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. 
 Still is thy name in high account. 
 And still thy verse has charms, 
 Sir David Lindesay of the Mount,^ 
 Lord Lion King-at-arms ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Down from his horse did Marmion spring 
 Soon as he saw the Lion-King ; 
 For well the stately baron knew 
 To him such courtesy was due, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 Coat of arms. 
 
 , 3 A mythical king of Scotland, to whom Charlemagne is said to have 
 given permission to put on the arms of Scotland (the double tressure and 
 fleur-de-Us) in memory of an alliance. 
 
 4 Emblem of Scotland, supposed to have been established by Achaius. 
 
 ^ Emblem of France. 6 Adorned with figures of heraldry. 
 
 "' An estate in the town of Cupar-Fife (north of Edinburgh), the supposed 
 birthplace of Lindesay. 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Whom royal James ^ himself had crowned,^ 
 And on his temples placed the round 
 
 Of Scotland's ancient diadem, 
 And wet his brow with hallowed wine, 
 And on his finger given to shine 
 
 The emblematic gem. 
 Their mutual greetings duly made, 
 The Lion thus his message said : 
 " Though Scotland's King hath deeply swore 
 Ne'er to knit faith ^ with Henry more. 
 And strictly hath forbid resort 
 From England to his royal court, 
 Yet, for he knows Lord Marmion's name. 
 And honors much his warlike fame, 
 My liege hath deemed it shame, and lack 
 Of courtesy, to turn him back ; 
 And, by his order, I, your guide. 
 Must lodging fit and fair provide 
 Till finds King James meet time to see 
 The flower of English chivalry." 
 
 IX. 
 
 Though inly chafed at this delay, 
 Lord Marmion bears it as he may. 
 The Palmer, his mysterious guide. 
 Beholding thus his place supphed. 
 
 Sought to take leave in vain : 
 Strict was the Lion- King's command 
 That none who rode in Marmion's band 
 
 Should sever from the train. 
 
 1 King James IV. of Scotland. 
 
 2 The Lion-King was crowned like a king, and with almost as solemn' 
 ceremonies as a king. 
 
 3 *' Knit faith," i.e., make treaties of peace. 
 
IV.] MARMION, 95 
 
 " England has here enow of spies 
 In Lady Heron's witching eyes : " 
 To Marchmount thus apart he said, 
 But fair pretext ^ to Marmion made. 
 The right-hand path they now dedine,^ 
 And trace against the stream ^ the Tyne.*^ 
 
 At length up that wild dale they wind, 
 
 Where Crichtoun Castle ^ crowns the bank ; 
 For there the Lion's care assigned 
 
 A lodging meet for Marmion's rank. 
 That castle rises on the steep 
 
 Of the green vale of Tyne : 
 And far beneath, where slow they creep 
 From pool to eddy, dark and deep. 
 Where alders moist, and willows weep, 
 
 You hear her streams repine. 
 The towers in different ages ^ rose ; 
 Their various architecture shows 
 
 The builders' various hands ; 
 A mighty mass, that could oppose, 
 When deadliest hatred fired its foes. 
 
 The vengeful Douglas ^ bands. 
 
 1 '* Fair pretext," i.e., reasonable explanation. 
 
 2 That is, they turned to the left. 
 
 3 *' Trace against the stream," i.e., follow upstream. 
 
 4 A river of southern Scotland, flowing into the North Sea. 
 
 5 A castle on the Tyne, about seven miles from Edinburgh, and originally 
 the estate of Chancellor Sir William Crichton. 
 
 ^ There were several additions to the castle in different ages. 
 
 "^ One of the famous Scotch families. On account of an injury done by 
 Sir William Crichton, the Earl of Douglas attacked the castle, and finally 
 took it. 
 
gf) SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XI. 
 
 Crichtoun! though now thy miry court 
 
 But pens the lazy steer and sheep, 
 
 Thy turrets rude, and tottered keep, 
 Have been the minstrel's loved resort. 
 Oft have I traced, within thy fort. 
 
 Of moldering shields the mystic ^ sense, 
 
 Scutcheons ^ of honor or pretense, 
 Quartered ^ in old armorial sort. 
 
 Remains of rude magnificence. 
 Nor wholly yet had time defaced 
 
 Thy lordly gallery fair ; 
 Nor yet the stony cord ^ unbraced,^ 
 Whose twisted knots, with roses laced, 
 
 Adorn thy ruined stair. 
 Still rises unimpaired below. 
 The courtyard's graceful portico ; 
 Above its cornice, row and row 
 Of fair hewn facets richly show 
 
 Their pointed diamond form, 
 Though there but houseless cattle go. 
 
 To shield them from the storm. 
 And, shuddering, still may we explore. 
 
 Where oft whilom ^ were captives pent, 
 The darkness of thy Massy ^ More, 
 
 Or, from thy grass-grown battlement, 
 May trace in undulating line 
 The sluggish mazes of the Tyne. 
 
 1 Mystic, because known only by initiates in heraldry. 
 
 2 Shields covered with armorial bearings, given as rewards for brave deeds. 
 A small shield in the center of a man's escutcheon, bearing the arms of his 
 wife, was called '* a scutcheon of pretense.'* 
 
 3 See Glossary. 4 " Stony cord," i.e., cordage carved in stonework. 
 5 Worn by time. ^ In times past. 
 
IV.] MARMIOISr. 97 
 
 XII. 
 
 Another aspect Crichtoun showed, 
 
 As through its portal Marmion rode ; 
 
 But yet 'twas melancholy state 
 
 Received him at the outer gate, 
 
 For none were in the castle then 
 
 But women, boys, or aged men. 
 
 With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame 
 
 To welcome noble Marmion came ; 
 
 Her son, a stripHng twelve years old. 
 
 Proffered the baron's rein to hold ; 
 
 For each man that could draw a sword 
 
 Had marched that morning with their lord. 
 
 Earl Adam Hepbiun,^ — he who died 
 
 On Flodden 2 by his sovereign's side. 
 
 Long may his lady look in vain! 
 
 She ne'er shall see his gallant train 
 
 Come sweeping back through Crichtoun-Dean.^ 
 
 'Twas a brave race before the name 
 
 Of hated Bothwell ^ stained their fame. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 And here two days did Marmion rest. 
 
 With every rite that honor claims. 
 Attended as the King's own guest, — 
 
 Such the command of royal James, 
 Who marshaled then his land's array, 
 
 1 Second Earl of Bothwell, and an owner of Crichtoun Castle. 
 
 2 A hill not far from Norham Castle, where the battle of Flodden was 
 fought, Sept. 9, 15 13 {?>te Introduction), 
 
 3 A small valley near Crichtoun Castle. 
 
 ^ James, Earl of Bothwell, grandson of Earl Adam Hepburn. He was 
 implicated in the murder of Darnley, the husband of Mary Queen of Scots. 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CANTO 
 
 Upon the Borough-moor ^ that lay. 
 
 Perchance he would not foeman's eye 
 
 Upon his gathering host should pry, 
 
 Till full prepared was every band 
 
 To march against the English land. 
 
 Here while they dwelt, did Lindesay^s wit 
 
 Oft cheer the baron's moodier fit ; 
 
 And, in his turn, he knew to prize 
 
 Lord Marmion's powerful mind, and wise, — 
 
 Trained in the lore of Rome and Greece, 
 
 And policies of war and peace. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 It chanced, as fell the second night. 
 
 That on the battlements they walked, 
 And, by the slowly fading light. 
 
 Of varying topics talked ; 
 And, unaware, the herald bard 
 Said Marmion might his toil have spared 
 
 In traveling so far, 
 For that a messenger from heaven 
 In vain to James had counsel given ' 
 
 Against the English war ; 
 And, closer questioned, thus he told 
 A tale which chronicles of old 
 In Scottish story have enrolled. 
 
 XV. 
 SIR DAVID LINDESAY'S TALE. 
 
 " Of all the palaces so fair, 
 
 Built for the royal dwelling, 
 In Scotland, far beyond compare 
 
 A field two miles wide just outside Edinburgh (see Note 3, p. 107)0 
 
IV.] M ARM I ON, 99 
 
 Linlithgow ^ is excelling ; 
 And in its park, in jovial June, 
 How sweet the merry linnet's tune, 
 
 How blithe the blackbird's lay! 
 The wild buck bells ^ from ferny brake. 
 The coot dives merry on the lake, 
 The saddest heart might pleasure take 
 
 To see all nature gay. 
 But June is to our sovereign dear 
 The heaviest month in all the year ; 
 Too well his cause of grief you know, 
 June saw his father's overthrow.^ 
 Woe to the traitors who could bring 
 The princely boy against his King! 
 Still in his conscience ^ burns the sting. 
 In offices as strict as Lent ^ 
 King James's June is ever spent. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " When last this ruthful month was come, 
 And in LinHthgow's holy dome 
 
 The King, as wont, was praying ; 
 While for his royal farther' s soul 
 The chanters sung, the bells did toll. 
 
 The bishop mass was saying, — 
 For now the year brought round again 
 The day the luckless king was slain, — 
 
 1 A town and castle on a lake of the same name, west of Edinburgh. 
 
 2 Calls or brays, a shortened form of " bellow." 
 
 3 James III., King of Scotland, was killed in 1488 while fleeing from an 
 army of rebellious subjects, among whom was his own son (see Introduc- 
 tion). 
 
 * After the battle (Sauchie-burn, fought June 18, 1488) James IV., 
 touched by remorse, performed acts of penance at Stirling. 
 5 See Glossary, 
 
100 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 In Catherine's aisle i the monarch knelt, 
 With sackcloth shirt and iron belt,^ 
 
 And eyes with sorrow streaming ; 
 Around him, in their stalls ^ of state, 
 The Thistle's Knight-Companions ^ sate, 
 
 Their banners o'er them beaming. 
 I too was there, and, sooth to tell, 
 Bedeafened with the jangling knell. 
 Was watching where the sunbeams fell, 
 
 Through the stained casement gleaming ; 
 But, while I marked what next befell. 
 
 It seemed as I were dreaming. 
 Stepped from the crowd a ghostly wight, 
 In azure gown, with cincture ^ white ; 
 His forehead bald, his head was bare, 
 Down hung at length his yellow hair. 
 Now, mock me not when, good my lord, 
 I pledge to you my knightly word 
 That when I saw his placid grace. 
 His simple majesty of face. 
 His solemn bearing, and his pace 
 
 So stately gliding on, — 
 Seemed to me ne'er did limner ^ paint 
 So just an image of the saint 
 Who propped ^ the Virgin in her faint, — 
 
 The loved Apostle John! 
 
 1 Saint Catherine's Chapel in Saint Michael's Church, near the palace 
 Linlithgow. 
 
 2 One of the penances which James IV. took upon himself was the con- 
 stant wearing of an iron belt, to which he added several ounces every year of 
 his life. 
 
 3 See Glossary. 4 A celebrated Scottish order of knighthood. 
 5 A portrait artist. 6 Supported. 
 
IV.] MARMION. 10 1 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " He stepped before the monarch's chair, 
 And stood with rustic plainness there, 
 
 And httle reverence made ; 
 Nor head, nor body, bowed nor bent. 
 But on the desk his arm he leant. 
 
 And words like these he said. 
 In a low voice, — but never tone 
 So thrilled through vein and nerve and bone : — 
 * My mother sent me from afar. 
 Sir King, to warn thee not to war, — 
 
 Woe waits on thine array ; 
 If war thou wilt, of woman i fair. 
 Her witching wiles and wanton snare, 
 James Stuart, doubly ^ warned, beware : 
 
 God keep thee as he may ! ' — 
 The wondering monarch seemed to seek 
 
 For answer, and found none ; 
 And when he raised his head to speak, 
 
 The monitor was gone. 
 The marshal and myself had cast ^ 
 To stop him as he outward passed ; 
 But, hghter than the whirlwind's blast, 
 
 He vanished from our eyes, 
 Like sunbeam on the billow cast, 
 
 That glances but, and dies.'* 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 While Lindesay told his marvel strange. 
 The twilight was so pale, 
 
 1 Lady Heron, it is said, tried to hinder the military preparations of King 
 James, and doubtless gave Surrey, the commander of the English Army, what 
 information she could obtain. 
 
 2 Warned of treachery and against proceeding to war. ^ Resolved. 
 
I02 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 He marked not Marmion's color change 
 
 While listening to the tale ; 
 But, after a suspended pause, 
 The baron spoke : '* Of Nature's laws 
 
 So strong I held the force. 
 That never superhuman cause 
 
 Could e'er control their course. 
 And, three days since, had judged your aim 
 Was but to make your guest your game ; ^ 
 But I have seen, since past the Tweed, 
 What much has changed my skeptic creed, 
 And made me credit aught." He staid, 
 And seemed to wish his words unsaid : 
 But by that strong emotion pressed. 
 Which prompts us to unload our breast 
 
 Even when discovery's pain, 
 To Lindesay did at length unfold 
 The tale his village host had told, 
 
 At Gifford, to his train. 
 Naught of the Palmer says he there, ■ 
 
 And naught of Constance or of Clare; 
 The thoughts which broke his sleep he seems \ 
 
 To mention but as feverish dreams. 
 
 XIX. ; 
 
 ■I 
 " In vain," said he, " to rest I spread ; 
 
 My burning limbs, and couched my head : \ 
 
 Fantastic thoughts returned, \ 
 
 And, by their wild dominion led, 
 My heart within me burned. 
 
 So sore was the delirious goad, 
 
 I took my steed, and forth I rode, 
 
 And, as the moon shone bright and cold, 
 
 1 Object of sport. 
 
IV.] M ARM ION, 103 
 
 Soon reached the camp upon the wold. 
 The southern! entrance I passed through, 
 And halted, and my bugle blew. 
 Methought an answer met my ear, — 
 Yet was the blast so low and drear. 
 So hollow, and so faintly blown, 
 It might be echo of my own. 
 
 XX. 
 
 ^' Thus judging, for a little space 
 I listened ere I left the place. 
 
 But scarce could trust my eyes. 
 Nor yet can think they serve me true. 
 When sudden in the ring I view. 
 In form distinct of shape and hue, 
 
 A mounted champion rise. — 
 IVe fought. Lord- Lion, many a day, 
 In single fight and mixed affray. 
 And ever, I myself may say, 
 
 Have borne me as a knight ; 
 But when this unexpected foe 
 Seemed starting from the gulf below, — 
 I care not though the truth I show, — 
 
 I trembled with affright ; 
 And as I placed in rest my spear. 
 My hand so shook for very fear, 
 
 I scarce could couch it right. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Why need my tongue the issue tell ? 
 We ran our course, — my charger fell ; — 
 What could he 'gainst the shock of hell ? ^ 
 
 1 See Canto III. xxiii. 
 
 2 *' Shock of hell," i.e., attack of an evil spirit. 
 
04 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [CANTO 
 
 I rolled upon the plain. 
 High o'er my head, with threatening hand, 
 The specter shook his naked brand, — 
 
 Yet did the worst remain : 
 My dazzled eyes I upward cast, — 
 Not opening hell itself could blast 
 
 Their sight like what I saw! 
 Full on his face the moonbeam strook,i — 
 A face could 2 never be mistook! 
 I knew the stern vindictive look, 
 
 And held my breath for awe. 
 I saw the face of one ^ who, fled 
 To foreign climes, has long been dead, — 
 
 I well believe the last;^ 
 For ne'er from visor raised did stare 
 A human warrior with a glare 
 
 So grimly and so ghast. 
 Thrice o'er my head he shook the blade ; 
 But when to good Saint George I prayed, 
 (The first time e'er I asked his aid,) 
 
 He plunged it in the sheath ; 
 And, on his courser mounting light, 
 He seemed to vanish from my sight : 
 The moonbeam drooped, and deepest night 
 
 Sunk Aown upon the heath. — 
 'Twere long to tell what cause I have 
 
 To know his face that met me there, 
 Called by his hatred from the grave 
 
 To cumber upper air : 
 Dead or alive, good cause had he 
 To be my mortal enemy." 
 
 1 Struck. 2 Which could. 
 
 3 De Wilton. ^ That is, that he was dead. 
 
IV.] M ARM I ON. 105 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Marveled Sir David of the Mount ; 
 Then, learned in story, 'gan recount 
 
 Such chance ^ had happed of old, 
 When once, near Norham, there did fight 
 A specter fell of fiendish might. 
 In likeness of a Scottish knight, 
 
 With Brian Bulmer 2 bold. 
 And trained him nigh to disallow^ 
 The aid of his baptismal vow. 
 '' And such a phantom, too, 'tis said. 
 With Highland broadsword, targe, and plaid,^ 
 
 And fingers red with gore. 
 Is seen m Rothiemurcus ^ glade. 
 Or where the sable pine trees shade 
 Dark Tomantoul, and Auchnaslaid, 
 
 Dromouchty, or Glenmore. 
 And yet, whatever such legends say 
 Of warlike demon, ghost, or fay, 
 
 On mountain, moor, or plain. 
 Spotless in faith, in bosom bold, 
 True son of chivalry should hold 
 
 These midnight terrors vain ; 
 For seldom have such spirits power 
 To harm, save in the evil hour 
 
 1 ** 'Gan recount," etc., i.e., began to tell of a similar occurrence that. 
 
 2 An English knight who, according to story, while hunting, was met by 
 a specter knight. They fought, and Bulmer was wounded. His opponent 
 promised to heal him if he would never invoke the name of anything holy. 
 Bulmer promised, and was healed ; but, surprised at his recovery, he thought- 
 lessly uttered a holy exclamation, and the knight disappeared. 
 
 3 ** Trained him," etc., i.e., almost induced him to repudiate. 
 ^ See Glossary, 
 
 S Pine forests on the Spey, in the Scotch Highlands. Tomantoul, Auch- 
 naslaid, Dromouchtv- and Glenmore were in their vicinity. 
 
d6 sir WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 When guilt we meditate within, 
 Or harbor unrepented sin." 
 Lord Marmion turned him half aside, 
 And twice to clear his voice he tried. 
 
 Then pressed Sir David's hand, 
 But naught, at length, in answer said ; 
 And here their further converse staid, 
 
 Each ordering that his band 
 Should bowne ^ them with the rising day, 
 To Scotland's camp to take their way, — 
 
 Such was the King's command. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Early they took Dun-Edin's ^ road. 
 And I could trace each step they trode : 
 Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone, 
 Lies on the path to me unknown. 
 Much might it boast of storied lore ; 
 But, passing such digression o'er. 
 Suffice it that their route was laid 
 Across the furzy ^ hills of Braid.^ 
 They passed the glen and scanty rill. 
 And climbed the opposing bank, until 
 They gained the top of Blackford Hill.^ 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Blackford ! on whose uncultured breast. 
 
 Among the broom and thorn and whin, 
 A truant boy, I sought the nest. 
 Or listed, as I lay at rest, 
 
 1 Equip. 2 Edinburgh {dun, Celtic for *' a fortified height"). 
 
 3 Covered with furze, an evergreen shrub with yellow flowers. 
 
 4 Southeast of Edinburgh. 
 
 5 Near Edinburgh, now owned by the city. 
 
IV.] MARMION. 107 
 
 While rose on breezes thin 
 The murmur of the city crowd, 
 And, from his steeple jangling loud, 
 
 Saint Giles's ^ mingling din. 
 Now, from the summit to the plain, 
 Waves all the hill with yellow grain ; 
 
 And o'er the landscape as I look. 
 Naught do I see unchanged remain. 
 
 Save the rude cUffs and chiming brook. 
 To me they make a heavy moan 
 Of early friendships past and gone. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 But different far the change has been. 
 
 Since Marmion, from the crown 
 Of Blackford, saw that martial scene 
 
 Upon the bent 2 so brown : 
 Thousand pavilions, white as snow. 
 Spread all the Borough-moor ^ below. 
 
 Upland and dale and down. 
 A thousand did I say? I ween, 
 Thousands on thousands there were seen 
 That checkered all the heath between 
 
 The streamlet and the town ; 
 In crossing ranks extending far. 
 Forming a camp irregular ; 
 Oft giving way, where still there stood 
 Some relics of the old oak wood,^ 
 That darkly huge did intervene, 
 
 1 Edinburgh Cathedral. 
 
 2 Anglo-Saxon, Beonet, a harsh, stiff grass; here the plain on which it 
 grows. 
 
 3 See note, p. 98. 
 
 * The moor was anciently a forest. 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 And tamed ^ the glaring white with green : 
 In these extended lines there lay 
 A martial kingdom^s vast array. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 For from Hebudes,^ dark with rain, 
 To eastern Lodon's ^ fertile plain, 
 And from the southern Redswire ^ edge 
 To farthest Rosse's ^ rocky ledge, 
 From west to east, from south to north, 
 Scotland sent all her warriors forth. 
 Marmion might hear the mingled hum 
 Of myriads up the mountain come, — 
 The horses' tramp and tinkling clank, 
 Where chiefs reviewed their vassal rank. 
 
 And charger's shrilling neigh, — 
 And see the shifting hnes advance. 
 While frequent flashed from shield and lance 
 
 The sun's reflected ray. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Thin curling in the morning air. 
 The wreaths of failing smoke declare 
 To embers now the brands decayed, 
 Where the night watch their fires had made. 
 They saw, slow rolling on the plain. 
 Full many a baggage cart and wain, 
 And dire artillery's clumsy car, 
 By sluggish oxen tugged to war ; 
 
 1 Toned down. 
 
 2 The Hebrides, islands in the Atlantic Ocean, northwest of Scotland. 
 
 3 East Lothian, south of the Frith of Forth. 
 
 4 Among the Che\dot Hills on the English Border. 
 
 5 Ross-shire, in the north of Scotland. 
 
IV. ] M ARM I ON, 1 09 
 
 And there were Borthwick's Sisters Seven,i 
 And culverins ^ which France had given. 
 Ill-omened gift! the guns remain 
 The conqueror's spoil on Flodden plain. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Nor marked they less where 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, 
 Pitched deeply in a massive stone,^ 
 Which still in memory is shown, 
 Yet bent beneath the standard's weight. 
 Whene'er the western wind unrolled 
 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. 
 
 1 Seven cannon made by a man whose name was Borthwick. 
 
 2 Long cannon used in the sixteenth century. 
 
 3 The different shapes of the streamers denoted the different ranks of the 
 bearers. 
 
 * See Glossary, 
 
 5 A huge stone (called the Hare stone) built into the wall on the high- 
 way between Edinburgh and Braid; and from it, according to story, the 
 royal banner was displayed. 
 
 6 Gold-colored. 
 
 7 Red. 
 
no SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Lord Marmion viewed the landscape bright, — 
 He viewed it with a chiefs dehght, — 
 
 Until within him burned his heart, 
 
 And lightning from his eye did part, 
 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 Saint George, were that host mine, 
 Not power infernal nor divine 
 Should once to peace my soul incline, 
 Till I had dimmed their armor's shine 
 
 In glorious battle fray ! " 
 Answered the bard, of milder mood, 
 *' Fair is the sight ; and yet 'twere good 
 
 That kings would think withal, 
 When peace and wealth their land has blessed, 
 'Tis better to sit still at rest 
 
 Than rise, perchance to fall." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Still on the spot Lord Marmion staid. 
 
 For fairer scene he ne'er surveyed. 
 When sated with the martial show 
 That peopled all the plain below, 
 The wandering eye could o'er it go. 
 And mark the distant city glow 
 
 With gloomy splendor red ; 
 For on the smoke wreaths, huge and slow. 
 That round her sable turrets flow, 
 
IV.] MARMION, III 
 
 The morning beams were shed, 
 
 And tinged them with a luster proud, 
 
 Like that which streaks a thundercloud. 
 Such dusky grandeur clothed the height 
 Where the huge castle i holds its state, 
 
 And all the steep slope down, 
 Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, 
 Piled deep and massy, close and high, 
 
 Mine own romantic town! 
 But northward far, with purer blaze, 
 On Ochil 2 mountains fell the rays. 
 And, as each heathy top they kissed, 
 It gleamed a purple amethyst. 
 Yonder the shores of Fife ^ you saw ; 
 Here Preston-Bay^ and Berwick-Law;^ 
 
 And, broad between them rolled, 
 The gallant Frith ^ the eye might note. 
 Whose islands on its bosom float, 
 
 Like emeralds chased in 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 demivolt ^ in air. 
 Cried, " Where's the coward that would not dare 
 
 To fight for such a land! " 
 The Lindesay smiled his joy to see. 
 Nor Marmion's frown repressed his glee. 
 
 1 Edinburgh Castle, on a hill in the central part of the city, 
 
 2 A range of low mountains northwest of Edinburgh. 
 
 3 A county bordering on the Frith of Forth. 
 
 4 East of Edinburgh^ 
 
 5 A hill east of Edinburgh, near the coast of the North Sea. 
 
 6 Frith of Forth. 
 *? See Glossary, 
 
[2 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Thus while they looked, a flourish proud, 
 Where mingled trump, and clarion loud, 
 
 And fife, and kettledrum, 
 And sackbut ^ deep, and psaltery,^ 
 And war pipe with discordant cry. 
 And cymbal clattering to the sky. 
 Making wild music bold and high, 
 
 Did up the mountain come ; 
 The whilst the bells, with distant chime. 
 Merrily tolled the hour ^ of prime, 
 
 And thus the Lindesay spoke : 
 '^ Thus clamor still the war notes when 
 The King to mass his way has ta'en, 
 Or to Saint Catherine's^ of Sienne,^ 
 
 Or Chapel of Saint Rocque.^ 
 To you they speak of martial fame. 
 But me remind of peaceful game. 
 
 When blither was their cheer. 
 Thrilling in Falkland-woods ^ the air, 
 In signal none his steed should spare. 
 But strive which foremost might repair 
 
 To the downfall of the deer. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " Nor less," he said, *' when looking forth 
 I view yon Empress ^ of the North 
 Sit on her hilly throne, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 gix A.M., the hour for morning prayer. 
 
 3 A convent just outside the walls of Edinburgh. 
 
 4 A small chapel on the Borough-moor. 
 
 5 A royal forest twenty-five miles north of Edinburgh. 
 
 6 That is, Edinburgh. 
 
IV.] MARMION. 113 
 
 Her palace's imperial bowers, 
 Her castle, proof to hostile powers, 
 Her stately halls and holy towers — 
 
 Nor less," he said, " I moan 
 To think what woe mischance may bring, 
 And how these merry bells may ring 
 The death dirge of our gallant King ; 
 
 Or with the larum 1 call 
 The burghers ^ forth to watch and ward,^ 
 'Gainst southern sack ^ and fires to guard 
 
 Dun-Edin's leaguered^ wall. — 
 But not for my presaging thought, 
 Dream conquest sure, or cheaply bought! 
 
 Lord Marmion, I say nay : 
 God is the guider of the field, 
 He breaks the champion's spear and shield, — 
 
 But thou thyself shalt say. 
 When joins yon host in deadly stowre,^ 
 That England's dames must weep in bower, 
 
 Her monks the death mass sing ; 
 For never saw'st thou such a power 
 
 Led on by such a King." 
 And now, down winding to the plain. 
 The barriers "^ of the camp they gain. 
 
 And there they made a stay. — 
 There stays the Minstrel, till he fling 
 His hand o'er every Border string. 
 And fit his harp the pomp to sing, 
 Of Scotland's ancient Court and King, 
 
 In the succeeding lay. 
 
 ^ Alarm ; call to arms. 2 gee Glossary, 
 
 3 The watch was the night guard ; the ward, the day guard : hence 
 ** watch and ward '* was to guard day and night. 
 ^ Plunder. 5 Beleaguered ; besieged. 
 
 ^ Battle. 7 The palisade which inclosed the camp. 
 
SIJ^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 THE COURT. 
 
 THE train has left the hills of Braid ; 
 The barrier guard have open made 
 (So Lindesay bade) the palisade 
 
 That closed the tented ground ; 
 Their men the warders backward drew, 
 And carried pikes ^ as they rode through 
 
 Into its ample bound. 
 Fast ran the Scottish warriors there, 
 Upon the Southern band to stare. 
 And envy with their wonder rose, 
 To see such well-appointed foes ; 
 Such length of shafts, such mighty bows, 
 So huge that many simply thought 
 But for a vaunt ^ such weapons wrought. 
 And little deemed their force to feel, 
 Through links of mail, and plates of steel, 
 When, rattling upon Flodden vale, 
 The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail. 
 
 II. 
 
 Nor less did Marmion's skillful view 
 Glance every line and squadron ^ through, 
 And much he marveled one small land 
 Could marshal forth such various band : 
 
 For men ^ at arms were here, 
 Heavily sheathed in mail and plate, 
 
 1 ** Carried pikes," i.e., saluted, as in the modern ** Present arms!" 
 
 2 Show. 3 Soldiers drawn up in the form of a square. ^ See Glossary. 
 
v.] MARMION. 115 
 
 Like iron towers for strength and weight, 
 On Flemish steeds of bone and height, 
 
 With battle-ax and spear. 
 Young knights and squires, a lighter train, 
 Practiced their chargers on the plain. 
 By aid of leg, of hand, and rein. 
 
 Each warlike feat to show, 
 To pass,i to wheel, the croupe ^ to gain, 
 And high curvet, ^ that not in vain 2 
 The sword sway might descend amain 
 
 On foeman's casque below. 
 He saw the hardy burghers there 
 March armed, on foot, with faces bare, 
 
 For visor they wore none. 
 Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight ; 
 But burnished were their corselets ^ bright, 
 Their brigantines, ^ and gorgets ^ light, 
 
 Like very silver shone. 
 Long pikes they had for standing fight. 
 
 Two-handed swords they wore, 
 And many wielded mace ^ of weight. 
 
 And bucklers ^ bright they bore, 
 
 III. 
 
 On foot the yeoman too, but dressed 
 In his steel-jack,i a swarthy vest, 
 
 With iron quilted well; 
 Each at his back (a slender store) 
 His forty days' provision bore,^ 
 
 As feudal statutes tell. 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
 2 Horsemen add weight to their stroke by the action of the horse. 
 
 ^ Under the feudal system a man held property from his lord, and in re- 
 turn was obliged to fight for him when summoned, and to appear with forty 
 days' provisions. 
 
ri6 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 His arms were halberd,^ ax, or spear, 
 A crossbow there, a hagbut^ here, 
 
 A dagger-knife, and brand. 
 Sober he seemed, and sad of cheer, 
 As loath to leave his cottage dear. 
 
 And march to foreign strand ; 
 Or musing who would guide his steer 
 
 To till the fallow land. 
 Yet deem not in his thoughtful eye 
 Did aught of dastard terror He ; 
 
 More dreadful far his ire 
 Than theirs, who, scorning danger's name, 
 In eager mood to battle came, 
 Their valor like Hght straw on flame, 
 
 A fierce but fading fire. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Not so the Borderer : i bred to war, 
 He knew the battle's din afar. 
 
 And joyed to hear it swell. 
 His peaceful day was slothful ease ; 
 Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please 
 
 Like the loud slogan ^ yell. 
 On active steed, with lance and blade, 
 The light-armed pricker i phed his trade, — 
 
 Let nobles fight for fame ; 
 Let vassals follow where they lead. 
 Burghers, to guard their townships, bleed, 
 
 But war's the Borderer's game. 
 Their gain, their glory, their delight. 
 To sleep the day, maraud the night. 
 
 O'er mountain, moss,i and moor ; 
 Joyful to fight they took their way, 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
v.] MARMION, 
 
 Scarce caring who might win the day, 
 
 Their booty ^ was secure. 
 These, as Lord Marmion's train passed by, 
 Looked on at first with careless eye, 
 Nor marveled aught, well taught to know 
 The form and force of English bow. 
 But when they saw the lord arrayed 
 In splendid arms and rich brocade, 
 Each Borderer to his kinsman said, 
 
 "Hist, Ringan! seest thou there! 
 Canst guess which road they'll homeward ride? 
 Oh, could we but on Border side. 
 By Eusedale ^ glen, or Liddell's ^ tide, 
 
 Beset a prize so fair ! 
 That fangless Lion,^ too, their guide. 
 Might chance to lose his glistering hide;^ 
 Brown Maudlin,^ of that doublet pied,"^ 
 
 Could make a kirtle '^ rare." 
 
 V. 
 
 Next, Marmion marked the Celtic race. 
 Of different language,^ form, and face, 
 
 A various race of man ; 
 Just then the chiefs their tribes arrayed, 
 
 1 They frequently deserted to the ranks of the victor, that they might 
 share in the booty. 
 
 2 The valley of the Euse, a tributary of the Liddell. 
 
 3 A tributary of the Eske, which flows into Solway Frith. The Liddell 
 forms part of the border between England and Scotland. 
 
 * Sir David Lindesay; fangless, because his soldiers were without their 
 weapons. 
 
 5 Coat. 
 
 6 A contraction of " Magdalen." 
 '7 See Glossary, 
 
 8 The Highlanders' speech was Gaelic, a form of Celtic ; the Borderers', 
 Lowland Scotch, not unlike the English (see Introduction), 
 
Ii8 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 And wild and garish semblance made 
 The checkered trews ^ and belted plaid,^ 
 And varying notes the war pipes brayed 
 
 To every varying clan.^ 
 Wild through their red or sable hair 
 Looked out their eyes with savage stare 
 
 On Marmion as he passed ; 
 Their legs above the knee were bare ; 
 Their frame was sinewy, short, and spare, 
 
 And hardened to the blast ; 
 Of taller race, the chiefs they own 
 Were by the eagle's plumage known. 
 The hunted red deer's undressed hide 
 Their hairy buskins ^ well supplied ; 
 The graceful bonnet ^ decked their head : 
 Back from their shoulders hung the plaid ; 
 A broadsword ^ of unwieldy length, 
 A dagger proved for edge and strength, 
 
 A studded targe they wore, 
 And quivers, bows, and shafts, — but, oh! 
 Short was the shaft, and weak the bow, 
 
 To that which England bore. 
 The isles-men ^ carried at their backs 
 The ancient Danish battle-ax.^ 
 They raised a wild and wondering cry. 
 As with his guide rode Marmion by. 
 Loud were their clamoring tongues, as when 
 The clanging sea fowl leave the fen, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 
 
 2 The plaid was fastened at the waist with a belt, so that part of it formed 
 a skirt. 
 
 3 Each clan had its distinctive air. 
 * The claymore. 
 
 5 Men from the islands north and northwest of Scotland. 
 
 6 The Danes made inroads in Scotland at various times, from about 866 
 to 1014. 
 
v.] MARMION.- 119 
 
 And, with their cries discordant mixed, 
 Grumbled and yelled the pipes betwixt. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Thus through the Scottish camp they passed, 
 
 And reached the city gate at last, 
 
 Where all around, a wakeful guard, 
 
 Armed burghers kept their watch and ward. 
 
 Well had they cause of jealous fear, 
 
 When lay encamped, in field so near, 
 
 The Borderer and the Mountaineer. 
 
 As through the bustHng streets they go, 
 
 All was alive with martial show : 
 
 At every turn, with dinning clang, 
 
 The armorer's anvil clashed and rang ; 
 
 Or toiled the swarthy smith, to wheel ^ 
 
 The bar that arms the charger's heel ; 
 
 Or ax, or falchion, to the side 
 
 Of jarring grindstone was appHed. 
 
 Page, groom, and squire, with hurrying pace, 
 
 Through street and lane and market place, 
 
 Bore lance, or casque, or sword ; 
 While brughers, with important face, 
 
 Described each new-come lord, 
 Discussed his lineage, told his name, 
 His following, and his warlike fame. 
 The Lion led to lodging meet. 
 Which high o'erlooked the crowded street ; 
 
 There must the baron rest 
 Till past the hour of vesper tide. 
 And then to Holy-Rood must ride, — 
 
 Such was the King's behest. 
 
 1 Bend iron for a horseshoe. 
 
I20 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CANTO 
 
 Meanwhile the Lion's care assigns 
 A banquet rich, and costly wines, 
 
 To Marmion and his train ; 
 And when the appointed hour succeeds, 
 The baron dons his peaceful weeds,i 
 And, following Lindesay as he leads, 
 
 The palace halls they gain. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Old Holy-Rood rung merrily 
 That night with wassail, mirth, and glee : 
 King James within her princely bower 
 Feasted the chiefs of Scotland's power, 
 Summoned to spend the parting hour ; 
 For he had charged that his array 
 Should southward march by break of day. 
 Weil loved that splendid monarch aye ^ 
 
 The banquet and the song, 
 By day the tourney, and by night 
 The merry dance, traced fast and light, 
 The maskers quaint, the pageant bright. 
 
 The revel loud and long. 
 This feast outshone his banquets past ; 
 It was his blithest — and his last. 
 The dazzling lamps from gallery gay 
 Cast on the court a dancing ray ; 
 Here to the harp did minstrels sing ; 
 There ladies touched a softer string ; 
 With long-eared cap and motley vest, 
 The licensed fool retailed ^ his jest ; 
 His magic tricks the juggler pHed ; 
 At dice and draughts the gallants vied ; 
 
 1 ** Dons his peaceful weeds," i.e., puts on his court dress. 
 
 2 Always. 3 Repeated. 
 
V,] M ARM ION,' 121 
 
 While some, in close recess apart, 
 Courted the ladies of their heart, 
 
 Nor courted them in vain ; 
 For often, in the parting hour. 
 Victorious Love asserts his power 
 
 O'er coldness and disdain ; 
 And flinty is her heart can view 
 To battle march a lover true — 
 Can hear, perchance, his last adieu, 
 
 Nor own her share of pain. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Through this mixed crowd of glee and game. 
 The King to greet Lord Marmion came. 
 
 While, reverent, all made room. 
 An easy task it was, I trow. 
 King James's manly form to know, 
 Although, his courtesy to show, 
 He doffed, to Marmion bending low, 
 
 His broidered cap and plume. 
 For royal was his garb and mien : 
 
 His cloak, of crimson velvet piled,i 
 
 Trimmed with the fur of marten wild. 
 His vest of changeful satin sheen. 
 
 The dazzled eye beguiled ; 
 His gorgeous collar hung adown, 
 Wrought with the badge of Scotland's crown, 
 The thistle brave, of old renown ; 
 His trusty blade, Toledo 2 right. 
 Descended from a baldric ^ bright ; 
 White were his buskins, on the heel 
 
 1 *' Of crimson," etc., i.e., made of crimson velvet. 
 
 2 Toledo, Spain, was famous for its swords. 
 ^ See Glossary, 
 
122 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [CANTO 
 
 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. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The monarch's form was middle size, 
 For feat of strength or exercise 
 
 Shaped in proportion fair ; 
 And hazel was his eagle eye. 
 And auburn of the darkest dye 
 
 His short curled beard and hair. 
 Light was his footstep in the dance, 
 
 And firm his stirrup in the lists ; 
 And, oh! he had that merry glance 
 
 That seldom lady's heart resists. 
 Lightly from fair to fair he flew. 
 And loved to plead, lament, and sue, — 
 Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, 
 For monarchs seldom sigh in vain. 
 
 I said he joyed in banquet bower ; 
 But, 'mid his mirth, 'twas often strange 
 How suddenly his cheer would change, 
 
 His look o'ercast and lower, 
 If, in a sudden turn, he felt 
 The pressure of his iron belt, 
 That bound his breast in penance pain. 
 In memory of his father slain. 
 Even so 'twas strange how evermore. 
 Soon as the passing pang was o'er. 
 Forward he rushed with double glee 
 Into the stream of revelry. 
 Thus dim-seen object of affright 
 Startles the coiu"ser in his flight, 
 
v.] M ARM I ON, 123 
 
 And half he halts, half springs aside, 
 But feels the quickening spur applied. 
 And, straining on the tightened rein, 
 Scours doubly swift o'er hill and plain. 
 
 X. 
 
 O'er James's heart, the courtiers say, 
 Sir Hugh the Heron's wife held sway : 
 
 To Scotland's court she came, 
 To be a hostage for her lord, 
 Who Cessford's ^ gallant heart had gored, 
 And, with the King to make accord, 
 
 Had sent his lovely dame. 
 Nor to that lady free alone 
 Did the gay King allegiance own ; 
 
 For the fair Queen 2 of France 
 Sent him a turquoise ring and glove, 
 And charged him, as her knight and love, 
 
 For her to break a lance,^ 
 And strike three strokes with Scottish brand. 
 And march three miles on Southron * land, 
 And bid the banners of his band 
 
 In English breezes dance. 
 And thus for France's Queen he drest 
 His manly limbs in mailed vest, 
 And thus admitted English fair 
 His inmost councils still to share, 
 And thus for both he madly planned 
 The ruin of himself and land! 
 
 And yet, the sooth to tell, 
 
 1 Robert Ker of Cessford. A brother of Sir Heron of Ford was the real 
 murderer of Cessford, but, to please James IV., Henry VIII. delivered up 
 Sir Heron also. Lady Heron was taken captive by King James. 
 
 2 The wife of Louis XII. of France (see Introduction). 
 
 3 ** Break a lance,'' i.e., go to war. ^ English. 
 
124 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 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. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The Queen sits lone in Lithgow pile, 
 
 And weeps the weary day 
 The war against her native soil, 
 Her monarch's risk ^ in battle broil ; 
 And in gay Holy-Rood, the while. 
 Dame Heron rises with a smile 
 
 Upon the harp to play. 
 Fair was her rounded arm, as o'er 
 
 The strings her fingers flew ; 
 And as she touched and tuned them all. 
 Ever her bosom's rise and fall 
 
 Was plainer given to view ; 
 For, all for heat, was laid aside 
 Her wimple, and her hood untied. 
 And first she pitched her voice to sing, 
 Then glanced her dark eye on the King, 
 And then around the silent ring. 
 And laughed, and blushed, and oft did say 
 Her pretty oath, by yea and nay. 
 She could not, would not, durst not play! 
 At length, upon the harp, with glee, 
 Mingled with arch simplicity, 
 A soft yet lively air she rung. 
 While thus the wily lady sung : — 
 
 1 *^ Weeps the weary," etc., i.e., weeps all the weary day, because of the 
 war against her native land, and because of her husband's risk, etc. Margaret 
 was sister of Henry VIII. 
 
v^.] M ARM ION. 125 
 
 XII. 
 
 LOCHINVAR. 
 
 Lady Heron's Song. 
 
 Oh ! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
 Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; 
 And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, 
 He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. 
 So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
 There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 
 
 He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, 
 
 He swam the Eske River where ford there was none ; 
 
 But ere he ahghted 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 bridesmen, 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,) 
 
 ** Oh! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war. 
 
 Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ? " — 
 
 '' I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; 
 Love swells like the Solway,^ but ebbs like its tide — 
 
 1 Netherby Castle, on the Scottish Border of England, on the bank of the 
 Eske River. 
 
 2 Solway Frith, an arm of the Irish Sea, forming part of the boundary 
 between England and Scotland. In it the tides rise rapidly and to great 
 heights, but fall or ebb very slowly. 
 
126 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CANTO 
 
 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 kissed the goblet : the knight took it up, 
 He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. 
 She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, 
 With a smile on her lips, 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 bridemaidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far 
 
 To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 
 
 One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. 
 
 When they reached 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 ;i 
 
 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 hke young Lochinvar? 
 
 1 See Glossary, 2 The Cannobie Meadows, near Netherby Castle. 
 
v.] MARMION. 127 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The monarch o'er the siren hung, 
 And beat the measure as she sung ; 
 And, pressing closer and more near. 
 He whispered praises in her ear. 
 In loud applause the coiurtiers vied, 
 And ladies winked and spoke aside. 
 
 The witching dame to Marmion threw 
 A glance, where seemed to reign 
 
 The pride that claims applauses due, 
 
 And of her royal conquest too 
 A real or feigned disdain : 
 Famihar was the look, and told 
 Marmion and she were friends of old. 
 The King observed their meeting eyes 
 With something like displeased surprise ; 
 For monarchs ill can rivals brook. 
 Even in a word, or smile, or look. 
 Straight took he forth the parchment broad 
 Which Marmion's high commission showed : 
 " Our Borders sacked by many a raid. 
 Our peaceful liegemen robbed," he said ; 
 " On day of truce our warden ^ slain, 
 Stout Barton ^ killed, his vessels ta'en — 
 Unworthy were we here to reign, 
 Should these for vengeance cry in vain ; 
 Our full defiance, hate, and scorn, 
 Our herald has to Henry borne." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 He paused, and led where Douglas stood 
 And with stern eye the pageant viewed : 
 
 1 Cessford, warden or protector of the Middle Marches or Border lands. 
 
 2 A Scotch mariner whose ship was attacked by order of Henry VIII. 
 
128 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 I mean that Douglas, sixth of yore, 
 Who coronet of Angus ^ bore, 
 And, ^yhen his blood and heart were high, 
 Did the third James in camp defy, 
 And all his minions led to die 
 
 On Lauder's dreary flat. 
 Princes and favorites long grew tame. 
 And trembled at the homely name 
 
 Of Archibald Eell-the-Cat ;2 
 The same who left the dusky vale 
 Of Hermitage ^ in Liddisdale, 
 
 Its dungeons and its towers. 
 Where Bothwell's turrets brave the air, 
 And Bothwell bank is blooming fair, 
 
 To fix his princely bowers. 
 Though now, in age, he had laid down 
 His armor for the peaceful gown, 
 
 And for a staff his brand, 
 Yet often would flash forth the fire 
 That could in youth a monarch's ire 
 
 And minion's ^ pride withstand ; 
 And even that day at council board, 
 
 1 The last earl of the famous Douglas family was driven into exile by 
 James II. ; but another branch sprang up, headed by the Earl of Angus, 
 who, loyal to the King, was rewarded by large grants of the Douglas land. 
 
 2 Archibald Douglas, sumamed BeU-the-Cat, which sobriquet he won 
 from his action in seizing certain favorites of the King whom none dared to 
 touch, and disposing of them on the Lauder bridge. The name alludes to 
 the fable of the mice who decided to put a bell on a cat that annoyed them, 
 to warn them of its approach, but no mouse could be found brave enough 
 to attach the bell. 
 
 3 Hermitage Castle (near the Liddell River), which the King forced 
 Douglas to exchange for Bothwell (on the Clyde, near Glasgow) on condi- 
 tion of pardon for killing Spens of Kilspindie, a cavalier and royal favorite, 
 thinking thereby to weaken the influence of the earl in any attempt against 
 the Crown. ^ See Glossary, 
 
v.] M ARM I ON. 129 
 
 Unapt to soothe his sovereign's mood, 
 Against the war had Angus stood, 
 And chafed his royal lord. 
 
 XV. 
 
 His giant form, Uke ruined tower. 
 Though falFn its muscles' brawny vaunt. 
 Huge-boned, and tall, and grim, and gaunt, 
 
 Seemed o'er the gaudy scene to lower : 
 His locks and beard in silver grew ; 
 His eyebrows kept their sable hue. 
 Near Douglas when 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 stem, 
 To say, Return to Lindisfame, 
 
 Until my herald come^ again. — 
 Then rest you in Tantallon hold ;2 
 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 displayed. 
 Yet loves his sovereign to oppose 
 More than to face his country's foes.^ 
 
 1 From Henry VIII., who was in France. 
 
 2 Tantallon hold was a strong fortress on the shore of the North Sea, near 
 North Berwick, Scotland. 
 
 ^ Two hands pointing to a heart placed between them, with a motto in- 
 scribed around the whole. 
 
 4 Coat of arms. That of the Douglas family was a heart and three stars. 
 
 5 *' Yet loves," etc. James IV., it is said, did in reality make this remark 
 to Lord Douglas just before the battle of Flodden. 
 
130 SIR WALTER SCOTT. * [canto 
 
 And, I bethink me, by Saint 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, 
 And, while they at Tantallon stay, 
 Requiem for Cochran's ^ soul may say." 
 And, with the slaughtered favorite's name. 
 Across the monarch's brow there came 
 A cloud of ire, remorse, and shame. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 In answer naught could Angus speak ; 
 
 His proud heart swelled well-nigh to break ; 
 
 He turned aside, and down his cheek 
 
 A burning tear there stole. 
 His hand the monarch sudden took. 
 That sight his kind heart could not brook : 
 
 '' Now, by the Bruce's ^ soul, 
 Angus, my hasty speech forgive! 
 For sure as doth his spirit live. 
 As he said of the Douglas old, 
 
 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." 
 And, while the King his hand did strain, 
 
 1 Stephen, the first martyr. 2 Only. 3 '' Maids of heaven," i.e., nuns. 
 
 4 One of the favorites of James III., whom Douglas executed at Lauder. 
 
 5 A king of Scotland. He won the battle of Bannockburn over the Eng- 
 lish in 1314. 
 
v.] HARM I ON. 131 
 
 The old man's tears fell down like rain. 
 To seize the moment Marmion tried, 
 And whispered to the King aside, 
 ''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! " 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Displeased was James that stranger viewed 
 
 And tampered with his changing mood. 
 
 '' Laugh those that can, weep those that may," 
 
 Thus did the fiery monarch say, 
 
 '^ 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." 
 
 The haughty Marmion felt the taunt. 
 
 And answered 2 grave the royal vaunt : 
 
 '' Much honored were my humble home. 
 
 If in its halls King James should come ; 
 
 But Nottingham has archers good. 
 
 And Yorkshire men are stern of mood, 
 
 Northumbrian prickers wild and rude. 
 
 1 In Staffordshire, England (see Note 6, p. 23). 
 
 2 Marmion rapidly runs over the route to Tamworth, through the various 
 counties, and the obstacles James would encounter. The order of his passage 
 to Tamworth would be Northumberland, Yorkshire, Nottingham, Derby, 
 Stafford. 
 
132 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 On Derby Hills the paths are steep ; 
 
 In Ouse 1 and Tyne ^ the fords are deep ; 
 
 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 : 
 
 Yet pause, brave prince, while yet you may ! " 
 
 The monarch lightly turned away, 
 
 And to his nobles loud did call, 
 
 '' Lords, to the dance, — a hall,^ a hall! " 
 
 Himself his cloak and sword flung by. 
 
 And led Dame Heron gallantly ; 
 
 And minstrels, at the royal order, 
 
 Rung out, ''Blue Bonnets o'er the Border."^ 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Leave we these revels now, to tell 
 What to Saint Hilda's maids befell, 
 Whose galley, as they sailed again 
 To Whitby, by a Scot was ta'en. 
 Now at Dun-Edin did they bide 
 Till James should of their fate decide ; 
 
 And soon, by his command. 
 Were gently summoned to prepare 
 To journey under Marmion's care, 
 As escort honored, safe, and fair. 
 
 Again to English land. 
 The Abbess told her chaplet ^ o'er, 
 
 1 A river of Yorkshire, which, with the Trent, forms the Humber, the 
 latter emptying into the North Sea. 
 
 2 A river of Northumberland, with an easterly course, emptying into the 
 North Sea. 
 
 '^ An old expression meaning to make room for a dance. 
 
 4 A war song. The Blue Bonnets were the Scottish soldiers. 
 
 5 See Glossary, 
 
v.] HARM ION, 133 
 
 Nor knew which saint she should implore ; 
 For, when she thought of Constance, sore 
 
 She feared Lord Marmion's mood. 
 And judge what Clara must have felt ! 
 The sword that hung in Marmion's belt 
 
 Had drunk De Wilton's blood. 
 Unwittingly King James had given. 
 
 As guard to Whitby's shades. 
 The man most dreaded under heaven 
 
 By these defenseless maids ; 
 Yet what petition could avail. 
 Or who would Hsten to the tale 
 Of woman, prisoner, and nun, 
 'Mid bustle of a war begun ? 
 They deemed it hopeless to avoid 
 The convoy of their dangerous guide. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Their lodging, so the King assigned. 
 To Marmion's, as their guardian, joined; 
 And thus it fell, that, passing nigh, 
 The Palmer caught the Abbess' eye. 
 
 Who warned him by a scroll,^ 
 She had a secret to reveal 
 That much concerned the Church's weal, 
 
 And health of sinner's soul ; 
 And, with deep charge of secrecy, 
 
 She named a place to meet. 
 Within an open balcony, 
 That hung from dizzy pitch, and high, 
 
 Above the stately street, 
 To which, as common to each home, 
 At night they might in secret come. 
 
 1 See Glossary^ 
 
134 -5-//? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XX. 
 
 At night in secret there they came, 
 The Palmer and the holy dame. 
 The moon among the clouds rose high, 
 And all the city hum was by. 
 Upon the street, where late before 
 Did din of war and warriors roar, 
 
 You might have heard a pebble fall, 
 A beetle hum, a cricket sing, 
 An owlet flap his boding wing 
 
 On Giles's steeple tall. 
 The antique buildings, climbing high. 
 Whose Gothic frontlets sought the sky. 
 
 Were here wrapt deep in shade ; 
 There on their brows the moonbeam broke, 
 Through the faint wreaths of silvery smoke, 
 
 And on the casements played. 
 
 And other light was none to see, 
 Save torches gliding far. 
 
 Before some chieftain of degree 
 
 Who left the royal revelry 
 To bowne^ him for the war. 
 A solemn scene the Abbess chose, 
 A solemn hour, her secret to disclose. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 '' O holy Palmer ! " she began, — 
 *' For sure he must be sainted man. 
 Whose blessed feet have trod the ground 
 Where the Redeemer's tomb is found, — 
 For his dear Church's sake, my tale 
 
 1 Equip. 
 
v.] M ARM I ON. 135 
 
 Attend, nor deem of light avail,^ 
 • Though I must speak of worldly love, — 
 
 How vain to those who wed above ! — 
 De Wilton and Lord Marmion wooed 
 Clara de Clare, of Gloster's blood ; 
 (Idle it were of Whitby's dame 
 To say of that same blood I came ; ) 
 And once, when jealous rage was high, 
 Lord Marmion said despiteously,^ 
 Wilton was traitor in his heart. 
 And had made league with Martin Swart,^ 
 When he came here on Simnel's part ; 
 And only cowardice did restrain 
 His rebel aid on Stokefield's plain, — 
 And down he threw his glove. The thing 
 Was tried, as wont, before the King, 
 Where frankly did De Wilton own 
 That Swart in Guelders ^ he had known, 
 And that between them then there went 
 Some scroll of courteous compliment. 
 For this he to his castle sent ; 
 But when his messenger returned. 
 Judge how De Wilton's fury burned! 
 For in his packet there were laid 
 Letters that claimed disloyal aid, 
 And proved King Henry's cause betrayed. 
 His fame, thus blighted, in the field 
 He strove to clear by spear and shield, — 
 
 1 " Nor deem/' etc., i.e., nor deem it trivial. 
 
 2 With malicious bitterness. 
 
 3 A German general who commanded the forces sent by the Duchess of 
 Burgundy as auxiliaries to aid Simnel, a pretender to the English crown 
 during the reign of Henry VIL Simnel was defeated June 16, 1487, at 
 Stokefield, in Nottingham. 
 
 4 That is, Holland. 
 
136 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 To clear his fame in vain he strove, 
 
 For wondrous are His ways above! « 
 
 Perchance some form was unobserv^ed, 
 
 Perchance in prayer or faith he swerved, 
 
 Else how could guiltless champion quail, 
 
 Or how the blessed ordeal ^ fail? 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " His squire, who now De Wilton saw 
 As recreant ^ doomed to suffer law, 
 
 Repentant, owned in vain. 
 That, while he had the scrolls in care, 
 A stranger maiden,^ passing fair, 
 Had drenched ^ him with a beverage rare ; 
 
 His words no faith could gain. 
 With Clare alone he credence won. 
 Who, rather than wed Marmion, 
 Did to Saint Hilda's shrine repair, 
 To give our house her livings fair, 
 And die a vestal vot'ress ^ there. 
 The impulse from the earth was given, 
 But bent her to the paths of heaven. 
 A purer heart, a loveher maid. 
 Ne'er sheltered her in Whitby's shade, 
 No, not since Saxon Edelfled;^ 
 
 Only one trace of earthly strain, 
 That for her lover's loss 
 
 She cherishes a sorrow vain. 
 And miumurs at the cross. 
 
 And then her heritage, — it goes 
 
 1 Trial by combat. 
 
 2 A knight who acknowledged himself vanquished was regarded as in- 
 famous, and declared a recreant or coward.- ^ Constance. 
 
 ^ Caused to drink deeply. ^ A nun. ^ See Note i, p. 50. 
 
v.] HARM I ON. 137 
 
 Along the banks of Tame ; ^ 
 Deep fields of grain the reaper mows, 
 In meadows rich the heifer lows, 
 The falconer and huntsman knows 
 Its woodlands for the game. 
 
 Shame were it to Saint Hilda dear, 
 
 And I, her humble votaress here, 
 Should do a deadly sin, 
 
 Her temple spoiled 2 before mine eyes, 
 
 If this false Marmion such a prize 
 By my consent should win ; 
 
 Yet hath our boisterous monarch sworn 
 
 That Clare shall from our house be torn, 
 
 And grievous cause have I to fear 
 
 Such mandate doth Lord Marmion bear. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 *' Now, prisoner, helpless, and betrayed 
 To evil power, I claim thine aid, 
 
 By every step that thou hast trod 
 To holy shrine and grotto dim. 
 By every martyr's tortured limb, 
 By angel, saint, and seraphim. 
 
 And by the Church of God! 
 For mark : when Wilton was betrayed. 
 And with his squire forged letters laid. 
 She was, alas ! that sinful maid 
 
 By whom the deed was done, — 
 Oh! shame and horror to be said! 
 
 She was a perjured nun ! 
 No clerk in all the land, like her, 
 
 1 A river of Warwickshire and Staffordshire, flowing into the Trent about 
 seven miles north of Tarn worth. 
 
 2 See Glossary, 
 
58 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Traced quaint and varying character, i 
 Perchance you may a marvel deem, 
 
 That Marmion's paramour 
 (For such vile thing she was) should scheme 
 g Her lover's nuptial hour ; 
 
 But o'er him thus she hoped to gain, 
 As privy to his honor's stain, 
 
 Illimitable power : 
 For this she secretly retained 
 
 Each proof that might the plot reveal, 
 
 Instructions with his hand and seal ; 
 And thus Saint Hilda deigned, 
 
 Through sinners' perfidy impure, 
 
 Her house's glory to secure, 
 
 And Clare's immortal weal. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Twere long and needless here to tell 
 How to my hand these papers fell ; 
 
 With me they must not stay. 
 Saint Hilda keep her Abbess true ! 
 Who knows what outrage he might do. 
 
 While journeying by the way? — 
 
 blessed Saint, if e'er again 
 
 1 venturous leave thy calm domain. 
 To travel or by land or main, 
 
 Deep penance may I pay! — 
 Now, saintly Palmer, mark my prayer: 
 I give this packet to thy care. 
 For thee to stop they will not dare ; 
 
 And oh! with cautious speed 
 To Wolsey's ^ hand the papers bring. 
 That he may show them to the King : 
 
 1 Writing. 2 Cardinal Wolsey, at one period King Henry's minister. 
 
v.] MARMION. 139 
 
 And for thy well-earned meed, 
 Thou holy man, at Whitby's shrine 
 A weekly mass shall still be thine 
 
 While priests can sing and read. — 
 What ail'st thou ? — Speak! " — For as he took 
 The charge, a strong emotion shook 
 
 His frame ; and, ere reply. 
 They heard a faint yet shrilly tone, 
 Like distant clarion feebly blown. 
 
 That on the breeze did die ; 
 And loud the Abbess shrieked in fear, 
 ''Saint Withold,! save us! — What is here! 
 
 Look at yon City Cross ! ^ 
 See on its battled tower appear 
 Phantoms, that scutcheons seem to rear, 
 
 And blazoned banners toss! " 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Dun-Edin's Cross, a pillared stone, 
 Rose on a turret octagon ; 
 
 (But now is razed that monument,^ 
 
 Whence royal edict rang. 
 And voice of Scotland's law was sent 
 In glorious trumpet clang. 
 Oh! be his tomb as lead to lead, 
 Upon its dull destroyer's head!^ — 
 A minstrel's malison ^ is said.) 
 
 1 Saint Vitalis. 
 
 2 It was customary for market places to have a large cross from which 
 proclamations of the King were read. 
 
 3 This curious structure was removed in 1756 by the Edinburgh magis- 
 trates on the ground that it encumbered the street. Its lower part, an octag- 
 onal tower, sixteen feet in diameter and fifteen feet high, was surmounted 
 by a pillar or column twenty feet high. 
 
 * That is, its destroyers, having dull or leaden heads, deserved to have 
 them crushed by a weight equally heavy. ^ See Glossary, 
 
140 SIR I FALTER SCOTT. [CANTO 
 
 Then on its battlements they saw 
 A vision, passing Nature's law, 
 
 Strange, wild, and dimly seen ; 
 Figures that seemed to rise and die, 
 Gibber and sign, advance and fly, 
 While naught confirmed ^ could ear or eye 
 
 Discern of soimd or mien. 
 Yet darkly did it seem as there 
 Heralds and pursuivants prepare. 
 With trumpet sound and blazon fair, 
 
 A summons - to proclaim ; 
 But indistinct the pageant proud, 
 As fancy forms of midnight cloud, 
 When flings the moon upon her shroud 
 
 A wavering tinge of flame ; 
 It flits, expands, and shifts, till loud, 
 From midmost of the specter crowd. 
 
 This awful summons came : — 
 
 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, 
 
 I summon one and all : 
 I cite you by each deadly sin 
 That e'er hath soiled your hearts \\nthin ; 
 I cite you by each brutal lust 
 That e'er defiled your earthly dust, — 
 
 1 Distinctly. 
 
 2 This incident, Scott mentions, was spoken of by historians, and was 
 probably a trick designed by those opposed to war to work upon the super- 
 stitions of James. 
 
v.] M ARM ION. 141 
 
 By wrath, by pride, by fear, 
 By each o'er-mastering passion's tone, 
 By the dark grave and dying groan ! 
 When forty days are passed and gone, 
 I cite you, at your monarch's throne, 
 
 To answer and appear." 
 Then thundered forth a roll of names : — 
 The first was thine, unhappy James! 
 
 Then all thy nobles came, — 
 Crawford, Glencaim, Montrose, Argyle, 
 Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle, — 
 Why should I tell their separate style ? 1 
 
 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, 
 Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye ; 
 De Wilton, erst of Aberley, 
 The self -same thundering voice did say. 
 
 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.'* 
 At that dread accent, with a scream, 
 Parted the pageant like a dream. 
 
 The summoner was gone. 
 Prone on her face the Abbess fell. 
 And fast, and fast, her beads did tell ; 
 Her nuns came, startled by the yell, 
 
 And found her there alone. 
 She marked not, at the scene aghast. 
 What time, or how, the Palmer passed. 
 
 1 Title. 
 
142 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Shift we the scene. — The camp doth move; 
 
 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 gray-haired sire, with pious care, 
 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 : 
 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 
 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 looked high, as if he planned 
 
 Some desperate deed afar. 
 His courser would he feed and stroke. 
 And, tucking up his sable frock, 
 Would first his mettle bold provoke. 
 
 Then soothe or quell his pride. 
 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 governed fair,^ 
 
 1 *' Governed fair," i.e., well commanded. 
 
\\ MARMION, 14^ 
 
 A troop escorting Hilda's dame, 
 
 With all her nuns and Clare. 
 No audience had Lord Marmion sought ; 
 
 Ever he feared to aggravate 
 
 Clara de Clare's suspicious hate ; 
 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. 
 
 His was no flickering flame, that dies 
 
 Unless when fanned by looks and sighs, 
 
 And lighted oft at lady's eyes ; 
 
 He longed to stretch his wide command 
 
 O'er luckless Clara's ample land : 
 
 Besides, when Wilton with him vied. 
 
 Although the pang of humbled pride 
 
 The place of jealousy supplied. 
 Yet conquest, by that meanness ^ won 
 He 2 almost loathed to think upon, 
 Led him, at times, to hate the cause ^ 
 Which made him burst through honor'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 
 North Berwick's town ^ and lofty Law,^ 
 Fitz-Eustace bade them pause awhile 
 Before a venerable pile "^ 
 
 1 The forgery referred to in Stanza xxiii. 
 
 2 Which he. 3 That is, Clare. 
 
 ^ Constance. 5 East of Edinburgh, near the North Sea. 
 
 ^ A hill in the vicinity of North Berwick. 
 '^ A Cistercian convent founded in 1154. 
 
I-H SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CANTO 
 
 Whose turrets viewed afar 
 The lofty Bass,i the Lambie Isle,^ 
 
 The ocean's peace or war. 
 At tolling of a bell, forth came 
 The convent's venerable dame, 
 And prayed Saint Hilda's Abbess rest 
 With her, a loved and honored guest. 
 Till Douglas should a bark prepare 
 To waft her back to Whitby fair. 
 Glad was the Abbess, you may guess, 
 And thanked the Scottish Prioress ; 
 And tedious were to tell, I ween, 
 The courteous speech that passed between. 
 
 O'er joyed, the nuns their palfreys leave : 
 But when fair Clara did intend, 
 Like them, from horseback to descend, 
 
 Fitz-Eustace said, '^ I grieve, 
 Fair lady, grieve e'en from my heart. 
 Such gentle company to part ; 
 
 Think not discourtesy, 
 But lords' commands must be obeyed ; 
 And Marmion and the Douglas said 
 
 That you must wend with me. 
 Lord Marmion hath a letter broad, 
 Which to the Scottish earl he showed, 
 Commanding, that, beneath his care, 
 Without delay you shall repair 
 To your good kinsman. Lord Fitz-Clare." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The startled Abbess loud exclaimed ; 
 But she at whom the blow was aimed 
 Grew pale as death, and cold as lead, — 
 
 1 An island near North Berwick. 
 
v.] M ARM I ON, 145 
 
 She deemed she heard her death-doom read. 
 '* 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 
 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 
 
 Befitting Gloster's heir; 
 Nor thinks nor dreams my noble lord, 
 By slightest look, or act, or word. 
 
 To harass Lady Clare. 
 Her faithful guardian he will be, 
 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 blushed with earnest grace ; 
 His faith was painted on his face, 
 
 And Clare's worst fear reheved. 
 The Lady Abbess loud exclaimed 
 On 1 Henry, and the Douglas blamed. 
 
 Entreated, threatened, grieved, 
 To martyr, saint, and prophet prayed. 
 Against Lord Marmion inveighed. 
 And called the Prioress to aid, 
 To curse with candle, bell, and book.2 
 
 1 Against. 
 
 2 In the old form of excommunication, the dictum of expulsion was read 
 by the priest, the bell was tolled as for the dead, and a lighted candle cast 
 upon the floor, as symbolic of extinguishing the heavenly light in the soul cut 
 off from the Church. 
 
146 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Her head the grave Cistercian ^ shook : 
 '' The Douglas and the King," she said, 
 '' In their commands will be obeyed ; 
 Grieve not, nor dream that harm can fall 
 The maiden in Tantallon hall." 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, 
 Assumed 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, 
 The records of his house tiun 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! 
 
 Prancing in pride of earthly trust. 
 
 His charger hurled him to the dust, 
 
 And, by a base plebeian thrust. 
 He died his band before.^ 
 
 God judge 'twixt Marmion and me; 
 
 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 
 
 1 Of the monastic order founded in 1098 at Cistercium (Citeaux, near 
 Dijon), France. 
 
 2 Dignity. 
 
 3 Lord Robert de Marmion died in the reign of King Stephen of England. 
 He drove out the monks from the church at Coventry. Afterwards, while 
 engaged in war, his horse fell in a charge, and he himself was slain by a 
 foot soldier. 
 
 4 From. 5 That is, at the head of his followers. 
 
v.] HARM I ON. 147 
 
 May the oppressor bruise ; 
 
 For thus, inspired, did Judith ^ slay 
 The mighty in his sin, 
 
 And Jael2 thus, and Deborah "2 — 
 Here hasty Blount broke in : 
 " Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band ; 
 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, 
 
 Will sharper sermon teach. 
 Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse ; 
 The dame must patience take perforce." — 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " Submit we then to force," said Clare, 
 " 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 : 
 And if it be the King's decree 
 That I must find no sanctuary ^ 
 In that inviolable ^ dome,"^ 
 
 1 A celebrated Jewess who killed Holofernes, the Assyrian general, be- 
 sieging Bethulia, her native town, and so saved the city (see the Book of 
 Judith in the Apocrypha). 
 
 2 See Judges iv. 
 
 3 A common exclamation of impatience. ** Saint Anthony's fire " was a 
 name for erysipelas. 
 
 * Foolish. 5 Place of refuge. 
 
 6 Certain religious establishments had the privilege of affording the right 
 of sanctuary; i.e , of affording refuge: hence they were inviolable. 
 
 7 The Whitby Convent. 
 
14^ SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Where even a homicide might come 
 
 And safely rest his head, 
 Though at its open portals stood, 
 Thirsting to pour forth blood for blood, 
 
 The kinsmen of the dead, 
 Yet one asylum ^ is my own 
 
 Against the dreaded hour, — 
 A low, a silent, and a lone, 
 
 Where kings have little power. 
 One victim 2 is before me there. — 
 Mother, yoiu* blessing, and in prayer 
 Remember your unhappy Clare ! " 
 Loud weeps the Abbess, and bestows 
 
 Kind blessings many a one : 
 Weeping and wailing loud arose, 
 Round patient Clare, the clamorous woes 
 
 Of every simple nun. 
 His eyes the gentle Eustace dried. 
 And scarce rude Blount the sight could bide. 
 
 Then took the squire her rein. 
 And gently led away her steed. 
 And, by each courteous word and deed, 
 
 To cheer her strove in vain. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 But scant ^ three miles the band had rode, 
 
 When o'er a height they passed. 
 And, sudden,^ close before them showed 
 
 His towers Tantallon vast, 
 
 1 The grave. 
 
 2 Referring to De Wilton, whom Clare thinks dead, or perhaps referring 
 to Constance. 
 
 3 Hardly. 
 
 4 Suddenly. 
 
] MARMION. 149 
 
 Broad, massive, high, and stretching far, 
 
 And held impregnable in war. 
 
 On a projecting rock they rose. 
 
 And round three sides the ocean flows ; 
 
 The fourth did battled w^alls inclose. 
 
 And double mound and fosse. 
 By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong. 
 Through studded ^ gates, an 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, 
 Which on the court projected far, 
 And broke its lines quadrangular. 
 Here was square keep, there turret high, 
 Or pinnacle that sought the sky. 
 Whence oft the warder could descry 
 
 The gathering ocean storm. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Here did they rest. — The princely care 
 Of Douglas, why should I declare, 
 Or say they met reception fair? 
 
 Or why the tidings say. 
 Which, varying, to Tantallon came, 
 By hurrying posts or fleeter fame,^ 
 
 With every varying day? 
 And, first, they heard King James had won 
 
 Etall^ and Wark^ and Ford ; ^ and then 
 
 That Norham Castle ^ strong was ta'en. 
 
 1 Strengthened with nails. 
 
 2 Rumor, swifter than messengers. 
 
 3 A fortress on the Border. 
 
 4 This fortress was taken by treachery. 
 
150 SIR WALTER SCOTT, \q\sio 
 
 At that sore man-eled Marmion, 
 
 And 'Douglas hoped his monarch's hand 
 
 Would soon subdue Northumberland ; 
 
 But whispered news there came, 
 That while his host inactive lay, 
 And melted ^ by degrees away, 
 King James was dallying off the day 
 
 With Heron's vnSx dame. 
 Such acts to chronicles I yield ; 
 
 Go seek them there, and see : 
 Mine is a tale of Flodden Field, 
 
 And not a histor\'. 
 At length they heard the Scottish host 
 On that high ridge had made their post 
 
 Which frowns o'er Millfield Plain ; - 
 And that brave Smrey ^ many a band 
 Had gathered in the Southern land, 
 And marched into Northumberland, 
 
 And camp at Wooler-^ ta'en. 
 Marmion, like charger in the stall. 
 That hears, without, the trumpet-call. 
 
 Began to chafe and swear : 
 '' A sorn- thing to hide my head 
 In castle, hke 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 : 
 
 ^ The Scotch soldiers took only forty days' rations, and, when these were 
 exhausted, they returned home. 
 
 2 At the foot of Flodden Hill. 3 Commander of the English Amiy. 
 
 ^ A town on the Che\'iot Hills a few miles from Flodden. 
 
 5 See Glossary. 6 Lessened. The reason appears later. 
 
VI.] HARM I ON, 151 
 
 No longer in his halls I'll stay." 
 Then bade his band they should array 
 For march against the dawning day. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 THE BATTLE. 
 
 WHILE great events were on the gale, 
 And each hour brought a varying tale, 
 And the demeanor, changed and cold, 
 Of Douglas, fretted Marmion bold, 
 And, like the impatient steed of war, 
 He snuffed the battle from afar ; 
 And hopes were none, that back again 
 Herald should come from Terouenne,i 
 Where England's King in leaguer 2 lay, 
 Before decisive battle day, — 
 Whilst these things were, the mournful Clare 
 Did in the dame's ^ devotions share : 
 For the good countess ceaseless prayed 
 To Heaven and saints her sons * to aid, 
 And, with short interval, did pass 
 From prayer to book, from book to mass, 
 And all in high baronial pride, — 
 A life both dull and dignified ; 
 Yet as Lord Marmion nothing pressed 
 Upon her intervals of rest, 
 
 1 A town in France which Henry VIII. was besieging, situated thirty 
 miles southeast of Calais. 
 
 2 See Glossary. 3 The wife of Douglas, Countess of Angus. 
 4 Douglas's two sons perished at Flodden, 
 
152 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Dejected Clara well could bear 
 The formal state, the lengthened prayer. 
 Though dearest to her wounded heart 
 The hours that she might spend apart. 
 
 II. 
 
 I said Tantallon's dizzy steep 
 
 Hung o'er the margin of the deep. 
 
 Many a rude tower and rampart there 
 
 Repelled the insult of the air. 
 
 Which, when the tempest vexed the sky. 
 
 Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by. 
 
 Above the rest a turret square 
 
 Did o'er its Gothic entrance bear. 
 
 Of sculpture rude, a stony shield ; 
 
 The Bloody Heart ^ was in the field,^ 
 
 And in the chiefs three mullets ^ stood, 
 
 The cognizance 2 of Douglas blood.^ 
 
 The turret held a narrow stair, 
 
 Which, mounted, gave you access where 
 
 A parapet's ^ embattled row 
 
 Did seaward round the castle go. 
 
 Sometimes in dizzy steps descending. 
 
 Sometimes in narrow circuit bending. 
 
 Sometimes in platform broad extending. 
 
 Its varying circle did combine 
 
 Bulwark, and bartisan,^ and line,^ 
 
 And bastion,2 tower, and vantage-coign ; ^ 
 
 Above the booming ocean leant 
 
 The far-projecting battlement ; 
 
 1 The Douglas coat of arms. The heart represented the heart of Robert 
 Bruce. Bruce, when dying, requested Lord James of Douglas to carry his 
 heart to the Holy Land. Lord James perished while performing this mission. 
 
 2 See Glossary. 3 Family. 4 Advantageous corner. 
 
VI.] M ARM ION, 153 
 
 The billows burst in ceaseless flow 
 
 Upon the precipice below. 
 
 Where'er Tantallon faced the land, 
 
 Gate-works and walls were strongly manned ; 
 
 No need upon the sea-girt side ; 
 
 The steepy rock and frantic tide 
 
 Approach of human step denied ; 
 
 And thus these lines, and ramparts rude, 
 
 Were left in deepest sohtude. 
 
 III. 
 
 And, for 1 they were so lonely, Clare 
 Would to these battlements repair, 
 And muse upon her sorrows there, 
 
 And Ust the sea bird's cry ; 
 Or slow, like noontide ghost, would glide 
 Along the dark-gray bulwarks' side, 
 And ever on the heaving tide 
 
 Look down with weary eye. 
 Oft did the cliff and swelling main 
 Recall the thoughts of Whitby's f ane,2 — 
 A home she ne'er might see again ; 
 
 For she had laid adown, 
 So Douglas bade, the hood and veil. 
 And frontlet ^ of the cloister pale,^ 
 
 And Benedictine gown : 
 It were unseemly^ sight, he said, 
 A novice out of convent shade. 
 Now her bright locks, with sunny glow. 
 Again adorned her brow of snow ; 
 Her mantle rich, whose borders, round, 
 A deep and fretted broidery bound, 
 
 1 For the reason that. 2 See Glossary, 3 Modifies '* frontlet. '* 
 
 4 Unsuitable; unfit. 
 
154 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 In golden foldings sought the ground ; 
 Of holy ornament, alone 
 Remained a cross with ruby stone ; 
 
 And often did she look 
 On that which in her hand she bore, 
 With velvet bound, and broidered o'er, 
 
 Her breviary i book. 
 In such a place, so lone, so grim, 
 At dawning pale, or twiHght dim. 
 
 It fearful would have been 
 To meet a form so richly dressed, 
 With book in hand, and cross on breast, 
 
 And such a woeful mien. 
 Fitz- Eustace, loitering with his bow. 
 To practice on the gull and crow, 
 Saw her at distance gliding slow. 
 
 And did by Mary swear 
 Some lovelorn fay she might have been, 
 Or, in romance, some spellbound queen ; 
 For ne'er in workday world was seen 
 
 A form so witching fair. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Once walking thus at evening tide,- 
 It chanced a gliding sail she spied, 
 And, sighing, thought, '' The Abbess there, 
 Perchance, does to her home repair ; 
 Her peaceful rule, where Duty, free. 
 Walks hand in hand with Charity ; 
 Where oft Devotion's tranced glow 
 Can such a gHmpse of heaven bestow 
 That the enraptured sisters see 
 High vision and deep mystery; 
 
 1 See Glossary. 
 
VI. ] MA RMION, 155 
 
 The very form of Hilda ^ fair, 
 
 Hovering upon the sunny air, 
 
 And smihng on her votaries' prayer. 
 
 Oh, wherefore, to my duller eye, 
 
 Did still the Saint her form deny ! 
 
 Was it, that, seared by sinful scorn. 
 
 My heart could neither melt nor bum ? 
 
 Or lie my warm affections low. 
 
 With him, that taught them first to glow ? 
 
 Yet, gentle Abbess, well I knew 
 
 To pay thy kindness grateful due, 
 
 And well could brook the mild command 
 
 That ruled thy simple maiden band. 
 
 How different now, condemned to bide 
 
 My doom from this dark tyrant's 2 pride! 
 
 But Marmion has to learn, ere long. 
 
 That constant mind, and hate of wrong. 
 
 Descended to a feeble girl 
 
 From Red De Clare,^ stout Gloster's Earl • 
 
 Of such a stem, a sapling weak. 
 
 He ne'er shall bend, although he break. 
 
 " But see ! what makes ^ this armor here ? '* — 
 
 For in her path there lay 
 Targe, corselet, helm : she viewed them near. — 
 ''The breastplate pierced! Ay, much I fear. 
 Weak fence ^ wert thou 'gainst foeman's spear, 
 
 1 The reflection of the morning sun in summer on one of the windows in 
 Whitby Abbey produced, it is said, an effect popularly believed to resemble 
 the glorified image of Saint Hilda. 
 
 2 Marmion, or possibly Henry VIII. (see Canto II. xxix. lines 4-6). 
 
 3 Gilbert De Clare, Earl of Gloucester, whose father, Richard De Clare, 
 was prominent in the Barons' war against Henry III. 
 
 4 " What makes," i.e., why is. 5 Defense. 
 
156 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 That hath made fatal entrance here, 
 
 As these dark blood-gouts^ say. — 
 Thus Wilton! Oh! not corselet's ward, 
 Not truth, as diamond pure and hard, 
 Could be thy manly bosom's guard 
 
 On yon disastrous day! " 
 She raised her eyes in moin-nful mood, — 
 Wilton himself before her stood! 
 It might have seemed his passing ghost, 
 For every youthful grace was lost ; 
 And joy unwonted, and surprise. 
 Gave their strange wildness to his eyes. 
 Expect not, noble dames and lords, 
 That I can tell such scene in words : 
 What skillful limner e'er would choose 
 To paint the rainbow's varying hues, 
 Unless to mortal it were given 
 To dip his brush in dyes of heaven ? 
 Far less can my weak line declare 
 
 Each changing passion's shade ; 
 Brightening to raptiure from despair. 
 Sorrow, surprise, and pity there. 
 And joy, with her angeHc air, 
 And hope, that paints the future fair, 
 
 Their varying hues displayed : 
 Each o'er its rival's ground extending. 
 Alternate 2 conquering, shifting, blending, 
 Till all, fatigued, the conflict yield, 
 And mighty Love retains the field. 
 Shortly I tell what then he said. 
 By many a tender word delayed. 
 And modest blush, and bursting sigh. 
 And question kind, and fond reply : — 
 
 1 Blood spots. 2 Used for ** alternately," meaning by turns. 
 
VI. ] MARMION. 1 5 7 
 
 VI. 
 
 DE WILTON S HISTORY. 
 
 " Forget we that disastrous day 
 When senseless in the hsts I lay. 
 
 Thence dragged, — but how I cannot know, 
 For sense and recollection fled, — 
 
 I found me on a pallet low, 
 
 Within my ancient beadsman^s ^ shed. 
 
 Austin, — remember'st thou, my Clare, 
 How thou didst blush when the old man. 
 When first our infant love began, 
 
 Said we would make a matchless pair ? — 
 Menials and friends and kinsmen fled 
 From the degraded traitor's bed, — 
 He only held my burning head, 
 And tended me for many a day. 
 While wounds and fever held their sway. 
 But far more needful was his care 
 When sense retiurned to wake despair ; 
 
 For I did tear the closing wound. 
 
 And dash me frantic on the ground. 
 If e'er I heard the name of Clare. 
 At length, to calmer reason brought, 
 Much by his kind attendance wrought. 
 
 With him I left my native strand, 
 And, in a palmer's weeds ^ arrayed 
 My hated name and form to shade,^ 
 
 I journeyed ^ many a land ; 
 No more a lord of rank and birth, 
 But mingled with the dregs of earth. 
 
 1 See Glossary, 2 Disguise ; conceal. 
 
 3 A transitive form of the verb. 
 
15^ SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 Oft Austin for my reason feared, 
 When I would sit, and deeply brood 
 On dark revenge, and deeds of blood. 
 
 Or wild mad schemes upreared. 
 My friend at length fell sick, and said 
 
 God would remove him soon ; 
 And, while upon his dying bed. 
 
 He begged of me a boon,i — 
 If e'er my deadliest enemy 
 Beneath my brand should conquered lie, 
 Even then my mercy should awake. 
 And spare his Hfe for Austin's sake. 
 
 VII. 
 
 '' Still restless as a second Cain, 
 
 To Scotland next my route was ta'en, 
 
 Full well the paths I knew. 
 Fame of my fate made various sound. 
 That death in pilgrimage I found, 
 That I had perished of my wound, — 
 
 None cared which tale was true : 
 And living eye could never guess 
 De Wilton in his palmer's dress ; • 
 
 For now that sable slough ^ is shed, 
 And trimmed my shaggy beard and head, 
 I scarcely know me in the glass. 
 A chance most wondrous did provide 
 That I should be that baron's guide — 
 
 I will not name his name ! — 
 Vengeance to God alone belongs ; 
 But, when I think on all my wrongs, 
 
 1 Favor ; literally, a prayer. 
 
 2 The cast-off skin of a snake, by which De Wilton here means his palmer's 
 dress. 
 
VI.] HARM I ON. 159 
 
 My blood is liquid flame! 
 And ne'er the time shall I forget, 
 When, in a Scottish hostel set, 
 
 Dark looks we did exchange : 
 What were his thoughts I cannot tell; 
 But in my bosom mustered hell 
 
 Its plans of dark revenge. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 '' A word of vulgar 1 augury,^ 
 
 That broke from me, I scarce knew why, 
 
 Brought on a village tale. 
 Which wrought upon his moody sprite,^ 
 And sent him armed forth by night. 
 
 I borrowed steed and mail 
 And weapons from his sleeping band ; 
 
 And, passing from a postern door, 
 We met and 'countered, hand to hand, — 
 
 He fell on Gifford-moor. 
 For the death stroke my brand I drew, 
 (Oh! then my helmed head he knew. 
 
 The palmer's cowl was gone,) 
 Then had three inches of my blade 
 The heavy debt of vengeance paid, — 
 My hand the thought of Austin stayed ; 
 
 I left him there alone. — 
 O good old man! even from the grave 
 Thy spirit could thy master save : 
 If I had slain my foeman, ne'er 
 Had Whitby's Abbess, in her fear. 
 Given to my hand this packet dear, 
 
 1 Common (Latin, vulgtis, ** crowd of people "). 
 
 2 Omen ; superstition. De Wilton refers to his remark in Canto III. 
 xiii.: " The death of a dear friend." 3 Spirit. 
 
i6o SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Of power to clear my injured fame, 
 And vindicate De Wilton's name. — 
 Perchance you heard the Abbess tell 
 Of the strange pageantry of hell ^ 
 
 That broke our secret speech — 
 It rose from the infernal shade, 
 Or featly ^ was some juggle played, 
 
 A tale of peace to teach. 
 Appeal to Heaven I judged was best, 
 When my name came among the rest. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Now here, within Tantallon hold. 
 To Douglas late my tale I told, 
 To whom my house was known of old. 
 Won by my proofs, his falchion bright 
 This eve anew shall dub ^ me knight. 
 These were the arms that once did turn 
 The tide of fight ^ on Otterburne, 
 And Harry Hotspur forced to yield. 
 When the dead Douglas won the field. 
 These Angus gave — his armorer's care, 
 Ere morn, shall every breach repair ; 
 For naught, he said, was in his halls, 
 But ancient armor on the walls. 
 And aged chargers in the stalls. 
 And women, priests, and gray-haired men ; 
 The rest were all in Twisel glen.^ 
 
 1 See Canto V. xxv. 2 gee Glossary. 
 
 3 A hotly contested battle (August, 1388) between the Scotch under a 
 Douglas, and the English under Sir Harry Percy (surnamed *^ Hotspur" 
 from his quick temper). Douglas perished ; but his death being concealed, 
 that it might not discourage, the Scotch finally won. Thus it is said, an 
 old prophecy was fulfilled that a dead Douglas should '^ win a field." 
 
 4 In England, where the Till and Tweed join. James encamped there 
 before going to Flodden. 
 
VI.] MARMION. l6i 
 
 And now I watch my armor here, 
 By law of arms, till midnight's near;i 
 Then, once again a belted ^ knight, 
 Seek Surrey's camp with dawn of light. 
 
 X. 
 
 ''There soon again we meet, my Clare! 
 This baron means to guide thee there : 
 Douglas reveres his King's command, 
 Else would he take thee from his band. 
 And there thy kinsman Surrey, too, 
 Will give De Wilton justice due. 
 Now meeter far for martial broil, 
 Firmer my limbs, and strung by toil. 
 Once more " — '' O Wilton! must we then 
 Risk new-found happiness again, 
 
 Trust fate of arms once more? 
 And is there not an 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 ; 
 Can Red Earl Gilbert's spirit feel. 
 Buckle the spurs upon thy heel, 
 And belt thee with thy brand of steel. 
 
 And send thee forth to fame ! " 
 
 1 The candidate for knighthood was compelled by the rules of chivalry to 
 keep watch over his arms the night before receiving the honor. 
 
 2 The belt was a badge of knighthood, like the golden spurs. 
 
i62 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XI. 
 
 That night upon the rocks and ba)^ 
 The midnight moonbeam slumbering lay, 
 And poured its silver light, and pure, 
 Through loophole and through embrasure,^ 
 
 Upon Tantallon tower and hall ; 
 But chief where arched windows wide 
 Illuminate the chapel's pride,^ 
 
 The sober glances ^ fall. 
 Much was there need ; though seamed with scars, 
 / Two veterans of the Douglas' wars. 
 
 Though two gray priests were there, 
 And each a blazing torch held high. 
 You could not by their blaze descry 
 
 The chapel's carving fair. 
 Amid that dim and smoky light. 
 Checkering the silvery moonshine bright, 
 
 A bishop 4 by the altar stood, 
 
 A noble lord of Douglas blood, 
 With miter sheen, and rochet ^ white. 
 Yet showed his meek and thoughtful eye 
 But little pride of prelacy ; 
 More pleased that, in a barbarous age, 
 He gave rude Scotland Virgil's page. 
 Than that beneath his rule he held 
 The bishopric of fair Dunkeld. 
 Beside him ancient Angus stood. 
 Doffed his furred gown and sable hood : 
 O'er his huge form and visage pale 
 He wore a cap and shirt of mail, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 Beauty. 3 Soft, subdued rays. 
 
 4 Gavin (or Gawin) Douglas, born about 1474, a son of Earl Angus, 
 and Bishop of Dunkeld (about 15 15). He possessed literary ability, and 
 translated Virgil's ^neid into Scotch verse with spirit and fidelity. 
 
VI.] MARMION, 163 
 
 And leaned his large and wrinkled hand 
 
 Upon the huge and sweeping brand 
 
 Which wont of yore, in battle fray, * 
 
 His foeman's limbs to shred away. 
 
 As wood-knife lops the sapling spray. ^ 
 
 He seemed as, from the tombs around 
 Rising at judgment day. 
 
 Some giant Douglas may be found 
 In all his old array ; 
 So pale his face, so huge his limb, 
 So old his arms, his look so grim. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then at the altar Wilton kneels. 
 And Clare the spurs bound on his heels ; 
 And think what next he must have felt 
 At buckling of the falchion belt! 
 
 And judge how Clara changed her hue 
 While fastening to her lover's side 
 A friend, which, though in danger tried. 
 
 He once had found untrue! 
 Then Douglas struck him with his blade : 
 " Saint Michael and Saint Andrew aid, 
 
 I dub thee knight. 
 Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton's heir! 
 For King, for Church, for lady fair, 
 
 See that thou fight." 2 
 And Bishop Gawain, as he rose, 
 Said, '' Wilton ! grieve not for thy woes, 
 
 Disgrace, and trouble; 
 For he who honor best bestows 
 
 May give thee double." 
 De Wilton sobbed, for sob he must : 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
 ? '' I dub thee," etc. The usual formula used in conferring knighthood. 
 
1 64 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [ca^xto 
 
 "Where'er I meet a Douglas, trust 
 
 That Douglas is my brother! " — 
 • '' Nay, nay," old Angus said, '' not so ; 
 
 To Surrey's camp thou now must go, 
 
 Thy wrongs no longer smother. 
 I have two sons in yonder field ; 
 And, if thou meet'st them under shield,^ 
 Upon them bravely — do thy worst ; 
 And foul fall him that blenches ^ first! " 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Not far advanced was morning day, 
 When Marmion did his troop array 
 
 To Surrey's camp to ride ; 
 He had safe-conduct ^ for his band 
 Beneath the royal seal and hand, 
 
 And Douglas gave a guide : 
 The ancient earl, with stately grace, 
 Would Clara on her palfrey place, 
 And whispered in an undertone, 
 '' Let the hawk ^ stoop,^ his prey ^ is flown." 
 The train from out the castle drew. 
 But Marmion stopped to bid adieu : 
 
 '' Though something I might plain," ^ he said, 
 *' Of cold respect to stranger guest, 
 Sent hither by your King's behest, 
 
 AVhile in Tantallon's towers I staid, 
 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 : 
 
 1 '' Under shield," i.e., in battle. 
 
 2 " Foul fall him," etc., i.e., evil come upon him that shrinks. 
 
 3 See Glossary. * Marmion. 5 De Wilton. ^ Complain. 
 
VI.] MARjMION. 165 
 
 " My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 
 Be open, at my sovereign's will, 
 To each one whom 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." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Burned 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, 
 Athough the meanest in her state. 
 May well, proud Angus, be thy mate ; 
 And, Douglas, more I tell thee here. 
 
 Even in thy pitch ^ of pride. 
 Here in thy hold,^ thy vassals near, 
 (Nay, never look upon your lord, 
 And lay your hands upon your sw^ord,^) 
 
 I tell thee, thou'rt defied! 
 And if thou saidst I am not peer 
 To any lord in Scotland here, 
 Lowland or Highland, far or near, 
 
 Lord Angus, thou hast Hed! " 
 On the earl's cheek the flush of rage 
 
 1 Unworthy. 2 Equal in rank. ^ Height. ^ See Glossary. 
 
 5 " Nay, never," etc. Words addressed to the vassals. 
 
1 66 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 Overcame the ashen hue of age : 
 
 Fierce he broke forth : ''And darest thou then 
 
 To beard the lion in his den, 
 
 The Douglas in his hall ? 
 And hopest thou hence unscathed ^ to go? 
 No, by Saint Bride ^ of Bothwell, no ! 
 Up drawbridge, grooms — what, warder, ho! 
 
 Let the portcullis fall." 
 Lord Marmion turned, — well was his need, — 
 And dashed the rowels ^ in his steed ; 
 Like arrow through the archway sprung, 
 The ponderous grate ^ behind him rung : 
 To pass there was such scanty room, 
 The bars descending rased ^ his plume. 
 
 XV. 
 
 The steed along the drawbridge flies, 
 
 Just as it trembled on the rise ; 
 
 Nor lighter does the swallow skim 
 
 Along the smooth lake's level brim : 
 
 And when Lord Marmion reached his band, 
 
 He halts, and turns with chnched hand. 
 
 And shout of loud defiance pours, 
 
 And shook his gauntlet ^ at the towers. 
 
 " Horse, horse! " the Douglas cried, '' and chase! " 
 
 But soon he reined his fury's pace : 
 
 '' A royal messenger he came, 
 
 Though most unworthy of the name. — 
 
 A letter forged! Saint Jude to speed !^ 
 
 Did ever knight so foul a deed! 
 
 1 Uninjured (Anglo-Saxon, sceathan^ *' injure"). 
 
 2 Saint Bridget of Ireland. 3 See Glossary, 
 ^ Portcullis grating. 
 
 5 *' Saint Jude," etc., i.e., Saint Jude (Judas) defend me! 
 
VI.] MARMION. 167 
 
 At first in heart it liked me ill 
 
 When the King praised his clerkly skill. 
 
 Thanks to Saint Bothan,i son of mine, 
 
 Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line : 
 
 So swore I, and I swear it still, 
 
 Let my boy-bishop fret his fill.— 
 
 Saint Mary mend my fiery mood! 
 
 Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, 
 
 I thought to slay him where he stood. 
 
 'Tis pity of him too," he cried : 
 
 " Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, 
 
 I warrant him a warrior tried." 
 
 With this his mandate he recalls. 
 
 And slowly seeks his castle halls. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The day in Marmion's journey wore ; 
 Yet, ere his passion's gust was o'er. 
 They crossed the heights of Stanrig-moor.2 
 His troop more closely there he scanned, 
 And missed the Palmer from the band. 
 " Palmer or not," young Blount did say, 
 *' He parted at the peep of day ; 
 Good sooth, it was in strange array." — 
 '' In what array ? " said Marmion quick. 
 '' My lord, I ill can spell the trick \^ 
 But all night long, with clink and bang. 
 Close to my couch did hammers clang ; 
 At dawn the falling drawbridge rang, 
 
 1 A monk, said to have lived at lona, one of the Hebrides. His name is 
 preserved in the Abbey Saint Bathan, of Berwickshire, a Cistercian nujnnery 
 having been dedicated to him. 
 
 2 South of Tantallon. 
 
 ^ *' Spell the trick," i.e., explain the mystery. 
 
i68 S//(: WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 And from a loophole while I peep, 
 
 Old Bell-the-Cat came from the keep, 
 
 Wrapped in a gown of sables ^ fair, 
 
 As fearful of the morning air ; 
 
 Beneath, when that was blown aside, 
 
 A rusty shirt of mail I spied. 
 
 By Archibald won in bloody work 
 
 Against the Saracen ^ and Turk : 
 
 Last night it hung not in the hall ; 
 
 I thought some marvel would befall. 
 
 And next I saw them saddled lead 
 
 Old Cheviot forth, the earl's best steed, 
 
 A matchless horse, though something old, 
 
 Prompt to his paces, cool and bold. 
 
 I heard the Sheriff Sholto ^ say 
 
 The earl did much the Master^ pr^y 
 
 To use him on the battle day ; 
 
 But he preferred '* — '^ Nay, Henry,^ cease! 
 
 Thou sworn horse ^ coiu-ser, hold thy peace. — 
 
 Eustace, thou bear'st a brain — I pray. 
 
 What did Blount see at break of day ?" — 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " In brief, my lord, we both descried 
 (For then I stood by Henry's side) 
 The Palmer mount, and outwards ride. 
 
 Upon the earl's own favorite steed. 
 All sheathed he was in armor bright. 
 And much resembled that same knight 
 
 1 Black lustrous furs. 2 An Arabian ; a Mohammedan. 
 
 3 A common Christian name in the Douglas family; probably a young son 
 of the earl. 
 
 4 The earl's oldest son, who was away with King James. 
 
 5 Blount. 6 See Glossary, 
 
VI. ] HARM I ON. 1 6 9 
 
 Subdued by you in Cotswold fight: 
 
 Lord Angus wished him speed." 
 The instant that Fitz-Eustace spoke, 
 A sudden Hght on Marmion broke : 
 *'Ah! dastard fool, to reason lost!" 
 He muttered ; '' t'was nor fay nor ghost 
 I met upon the moonlight wold,i 
 But living man of earthly mold. — 
 
 O dotage ^ blind and gross ! 
 Had I but fought as wont,^ one thrust 
 Had laid De Wilton in the dust, 
 
 My path no more to cross. — 
 How stand we now ? — He told his tale 
 To Douglas, and with some avail : 
 
 Twas therefore gloomed his rugged brow.^ — 
 Will Surrey dare to entertain, 
 'Gainst Marmion, charge disproved ^ and vain ? 
 
 Small risk of that, I trow. 
 Yet Clare's sharp questions must I shun, 
 Must separate Constance from the Nun ^ — 
 Oh, 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." 
 
 1 See Canto IV. xix. 2 PoUy. 3 Usually. 
 
 4 *' 'Twas therefore," etc., i.e., that was the reason of his (Douglas's) 
 coolness. 
 
 5 Shown to be false; i.e., in the lists at Cottiswold, when De Wilton was 
 vanquished in combat by Marmion. 
 
 6 The Abbess of Saint Hilda. Marmion, ignorant of Constance's fate, 
 thinks her still alive at Lindisfarne. Fearing the Abbess may visit Holy 
 Island on her return to Whitby, and learn from Constance more definitely of 
 the forgery, he thinks such a contingency may be prevented by withdrawing 
 Constance from Lindisfarne. 
 
lyo SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Stung with these thoughts, he urged to speed 
 His troop, and reached at eve the Tweed, 
 Where Lennel's ^ convent closed their march. 
 (There now is left but one frail arch, 
 
 Yet mourn thou not its cells ; 
 Our time a fair exchange has made : 
 Hard by, in hospitable shade, 
 
 A reverend pilgrim ^ dwells. 
 Well worth the whole Bernardine^ brood. 
 That e'er wore sandal, frock, or hood.) 
 Yet did Saint Bernard's Abbot there 
 Give Marmion entertainment fair, 
 And lodging for his train and Clare. 
 Next morn the baron climbed 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 looked : at length his eye 
 Unusual movement might descry 
 
 Amid the shifting lines : 
 The Scottish host drawn out appears. 
 For, flashing on the hedge of spears. 
 
 The eastern sunbeam shines. 
 Their front now deepening, now extending, 
 Their flank inclining, wheeHng, bending. 
 Now drawing back, and now descending, 
 
 1 A Cistercian convent in Scotland, near Flodden. 
 
 2 Patrick Brydone, a literary man, and a friend of Scott. 
 
 2 Saint Bernard was a celebrated Cistercian monk of the twelfth century. 
 4 The easterly declivity of the Cheviots, Flodden Hill, 
 
VI.] MARMION, 171 
 
 The skillful Marmion well could know 
 They watched the motions of some foe 
 Who traversed ^ on the plain below. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Even so it was. From Flodden ridge 
 The Scots beheld the English host 
 Leave Barmore-wood,^ their evening post, 
 And heedful watched them as they crossed 
 
 The Till by Twisel Bridge.^ 
 
 High sight it is, and haughty,^ while 
 They dive into the deep defile ; 
 Beneath the caverned cliff they fall, 
 Beneath the castle's ^ airy wall. 
 
 By rock, by oak, by hawthorn-tree. 
 Troop after troop are disappearing ;6 
 Troop after troop their banners rearing, 
 
 Upon the eastern bank you see ; 
 
 Still pouring down the rocky den 
 Where flows the sullen Till, 
 
 And rising from the dim- wood glen, 
 
 Standards on standards, men on men, 
 In slow succession still, 
 
 And sweeping o'er the Gothic arch,^ 
 
 And pressing on, in ceaseless march, 
 To gain the opposing hill. 
 
 That morn, to many a trumpet clang, 
 
 1 See Glossary. 2 Opposite Flodden Field, on the other side of the Till. 
 
 .3 Near the point where the Till joins the Tweed. The English Army, 
 by this flank movement from Wooler around Flodden, had placed itself be- 
 tween James and his base of supplies (see map, p. 16). 
 
 4 Bold. 5 Twisel Castle. 
 
 fi Scott probably thought this was an excellent opportunity for the Scotch 
 to attack, as the crossing was slow and difficult. 
 
 7 That is, the Gothic arch of the bridge : hence the bridge itself. 
 
172 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [caxto 
 
 Twisel! thy rock's deep echo rang; 
 And many a chief of birth and rank, 
 Saint Helen !i at thy fountain drank. 
 Thy hawthorn glade, which now we see 
 In springtide bloom so lavishly, 
 Had then from many an ax its doom, 
 To give the marching columns room. 
 
 XX. 
 
 And why stands Scotland idly ^ now, 
 Dark Flodden! on thy airy brow, 
 Since England gains the pass the w^hile. 
 And struggles through the deep defile? 
 What checks the fiery soul of James ? 
 Why sits that champion of the dames 
 
 Inactive on his steed, 
 And sees, between him and his land, 
 Between him and Tweed's southern strand, 
 
 His host Lord Surrey lead? 
 What 'vails the vain knight-errant's brand? 
 O Douglas, for thy leading wand!^ 
 
 Fierce Randolph,^ for thy speed! 
 Oh for one hour of Wallace ^ wight, 
 Or well-skilled Bruce, to rule the fight, 
 And cry, '' Saint Andrew^ and our right!" 
 Another sight had seen that mom. 
 From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, 
 And Flodden had been Bannockbourne ! ^ 
 
 1 Xear the bridge, says Scott, was a fountain called Saint Helen's Well. 
 
 2 Neglecting this favorable opportunity to attack. 
 
 3 See Glossa?'}'. 4 A famous lieutenant of Bruce. 
 ^ See Note 2, p. 84. 6 Patron saint of Scotland. 
 
 "^ In southern Scotland, near Stirling. Here, June 24, 13 14, Bruce, by 
 superior generalship, defeated the English under Edward II. 
 
.] HARM I ON, 173 
 
 The precious hour has passed in vain, 
 And England's host has gained the plain, 
 Wheeling their march, and circling still, 
 Aroimd the base of Flodden hill. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Ere yet the bands met Marmion's eye, 
 Fitz-Eustace shouted loud and high, 
 " Hark, hark! my lord, an EngKsh drum! 
 And see ascending squadrons come 
 
 Between Tweed's river and the hill, 
 Foot, horse, and cannon. Hap what hap,l 
 My basnet 2 to a prentice cap. 
 
 Lord Surrey's o'er the Till! — 
 Yet more! yet more! — how far arrayed 
 They file from out the hawthorn shade, 
 
 And sweep so gallant by! 
 With all their banners bravely spread. 
 
 And all their armor flashing high. 
 Saint George might waken from the dead. 
 
 To see fair England's standards fly." — 
 " Stint in thy prate," ^ quoth Blount, '' thou'dst best, 
 And listen to our lord's behest." 
 With kindling brow Lord Marmion said, 
 *' This instant be our band arrayed ; 
 The river must be quickly crossed. 
 That we may join Lord Surrey's host. 
 If fight King James, — as well I trust 
 That fight he will, and fight he must, — 
 The Lady Clare behind our lines 
 Shall tarry, while the battle joins." 
 
 1 " Hap what hap," i.e., happen what may. 
 
 2 See Glossary. 
 
 ^ " Stint in thy prate," i.e., keep quiet. 
 
174 ^S'/i? WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Himself he swift on horseback threw, 
 Scarce to the Abbot bade adieu, 
 Far less would listen to his prayer 
 To leave behind the helpless Clare. 
 Down to the Tweed his band he drew, 
 And muttered as the flood they view, 
 *' The pheasant i in the falcon's 2 claw, 
 He scarce will yield to please a daw 'fi 
 Lord Angus may the Abbot awe,^ 
 
 So Clare shall bide with me." 
 Then on that dangerous ford, and deep. 
 Where to the Tweed Leat's ^ eddies creep, 
 
 He ventured desperately. 
 And not a moment will he bide, 
 Till squire, or groom, before him ride ; 
 Headmost of all he stems the tide, 
 
 And stems it gallantly. 
 Eustace held Clare upon her horse. 
 
 Old Hubert led her rein, 
 Stoutly they braved the current's course. 
 And, though far downward driven perforce. 
 
 The southern bank they gain. 
 Behind them, straggling, came to shore, 
 
 As best they might, the train : 
 Each o'er his head his yew-bow bore, 
 
 A caution not in vain ; 
 Deep need that day that every string. 
 By wet unharmed, should sharply ring. 
 
 1 Clare. 
 
 2 Marmion's. His crest was a falcon (see Canto I. vi.). 
 
 3 The Abbot. For daw see Glossary. 
 
 * That is, the Abbot might be compelled by Angus to give up Clare, 
 5 A small branch of the Tweed. 
 
.] M ARM I ON, 175 
 
 A moment then Lord Marmion staid, 
 And breathed his steed, his men arrayed, 
 
 Then forward moved his band. 
 Until, Lord Surrey's rearguard won, 
 He halted by a cross of stone, 
 That, on a hillock standing lone, 
 
 Did all the field command. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Hence might they see the full array 
 
 Of either host, for deadly fray ; 
 
 Their marshaled Hnes stretched east and west. 
 
 And fronted ^ north and south. 
 And distant salutation passed 
 
 From the loud cannon mouth ; 
 Not in the close successive rattle. 
 That breathes the voice of modern battle. 
 
 But slow and far between. 
 The hillock gained, Lord Marmion staid : 
 ** 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." 
 
 ^ The English faced south ; the Scotch, north (see map, p. 16). 
 2 Welfare. 3 With all haste. 
 
176 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 He waited not for answer there, 
 
 And would not mark the maid's despair, 
 
 Nor heed the discontented ^ look 
 From either squire, but spurred amain, 
 And, dashing through the battle plain, 
 
 His way to Surrey took. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 "The good Lord Marmion,- by my life! 
 
 "Welcome to danger's hour I — 
 Short greeting sen'es in time of strife. — 
 
 Thus have I ranged my power : ^ 
 Myself will rule this central host, 
 
 Stout Stanley fronts their right,* 
 My sons command the vaward post,^ 
 
 With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight ; ^ 
 
 Lord Dacre, wdth his horsemen light. 
 
 Shall be in rearward of the fight, 
 And succor those that need it most. 
 
 Now, gallant Marmion, well I know, 
 
 Would gladly to the vanguard go ; 
 Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there. 
 With thee their charge will blithely share ; 
 There fight thine o\\ti retainers too, 
 Beneath De Burg, thy steward true." — 
 ''Thanks, noble Surrey I" Marmion said. 
 Nor further greeting there he paid, 
 
 1 Discontented, because they were not to take part in the battle. 
 
 2 Marmion is greeted by Surrey. 
 
 3 Forces. They were in four divisions. 
 
 4 That is, he held the English left wing. 
 
 5 Thomas Howard, admiral of England; and Sir Edmund Howard, knight 
 marshal of the army, — held the English right wing, here the " vaward" or 
 forward post. 
 
 ^ An Eno^lish nobleman slain at Flodden. Called the " UndefUed." 
 
MARMION, 177 
 
 But, parting like a thunderbolt, 
 First in the vanguard made a halt, 
 
 Where such a shout there rose 
 Of " Marmion, Marmion! " that the cry, 
 Up Flodden mountain shrilling high, 
 
 Startled the Scottish foes. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still 
 With Lady Clare upon the hill, 
 On which (for far the day was spent) 
 The western sunbeams now were bent. 
 The cry they heard, its meaning knew, 
 Could plain their distant comrades view : 
 Sadly to Blount did Eustace say, 
 '* Unworthy office here to stay! 
 No hope of gilded spurs ^ to-day. — 
 But see ! look up — on Flodden bent ^ 
 The Scottish foe has fired his tent.*'^ 
 
 And sudden, as he spoke, 
 From the sharp ridges of the hill. 
 All downward to the banks of Till 
 
 Was wreathed in sable smoke. 
 Volumed and vast, and rolling far. 
 The cloud enveloped Scotland's war,* 
 
 As down the hill they broke ; 
 Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone. 
 Announced their march ; their tread alone. 
 
 1 That is, of winning knighthood. 
 
 2 See Glossary. 
 
 ^ The Scotch set fire to their tents before leaving Flodden ridge, thus pre- 
 venting retreat, and covering, with the smoke, the march of the army down 
 the hill. 
 
 * Warriors. 
 
jS SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 At times one warning trumpet blown, 
 
 At times a stifled hum, 
 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 2 and ^sath 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 looked the anxious squires ; their eye 
 Could in the darkness naught descry. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 At length the freshening western blast 
 Aside the shroud of battle cast ; 
 And, first, the ridge of mingled spears 
 Above the brightening cloud appears ; 
 x\nd in the smoke the pennons flew, 
 As in the storm the white sea^ mew. 
 Then marked they, dashing broad and far, 
 The broken billows of the war, 
 And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 
 Floating like foam upon the wave ; 
 
 But naught distinct they see : 
 Wide raged the battle on the plain ; 
 Spears shook, and falchions flashed amain ; 
 
 1 Referring to his strong position on Flodden Hill. 
 
 2 The sweep of the sword. ^ gee Glossary. 
 
VI.] MARMION, 179 
 
 Fell England's arrow-flight like rain ; 
 Crests rose, and stooped, and rose again, 
 
 Wild and disorderly. 
 Amid the scene of tumult, high 
 They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly : 
 And stainless Tunstall's banner white, 
 And Edmund Howard's Hon bright, 
 Still bear them bravely in the fight ; 
 
 Although against them come, 
 Of gallant Gordons many a one, 
 And many a stubborn Badenoch 1 man, 
 And many a rugged Border clan, 
 
 With Huntly, and with Home.^ 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Far on the left, unseen the while, 
 Stanley broke ^ Lennox and Argyle ; 
 Though there the western mountaineer 
 Rushed with bare bosom on the spear, 
 And flung the feeble targe aside. 
 And with both hands the broadsword plied. 
 'Twas vain. But Fortune, on the right,^ 
 With fickle smile, cheered Scotland's fight. 
 Then fell that spotless banner white, 
 
 The Howard's lion fell ; ^ 
 Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew 
 
 1 A district of the Scottish Highlands. 
 
 2 The Scotch were in three divisions, — the right headed by Lennox and 
 Argyle ; the center, by James ; the left, by the Earls of Huntly and Home. 
 
 3 That is, Stanley, with the English left, scattered the Highlanders on 
 the Scotch right. Stanley then turned to attack the King on the flank. 
 
 ^ Huntly and Home charged Sir Edmund Howard fiercely on the Eng- 
 lish right, routing that wing. 
 
 5 Sir Edmund's standard was beaten down, and he himself narrowly 
 escaped to the division of his brother, the admiral. 
 
l8o SIR WALTER SCOTT. [CANTO 
 
 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 bark's mast in the gale, 
 When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, 
 
 It wavered '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." 
 And to the fray he rode amain. 
 Followed by all the archer train. 
 The fiery youth, with desperate charge, 
 Made, for a space, an opening large, — 
 
 The rescued banner rose, — 
 But darkly closed the war around. 
 Like pine tree rooted from the ground, 
 
 It sank among the foes. 
 Then Eustace mounted too, — yet staid. 
 As loath to leave the helpless maid. 
 
 When, fast as shaft can fly, 
 Bloodshot his eyes, his nostrils spread, 
 The loose rein dangling from his head. 
 Housing and saddle bloody red, 
 
 Lord Marmion's steed rushed by ; 
 
 1- See Glossary. 
 
 2 *' Bid your beads and patter prayer," i.e., count your beads, and mutter 
 prayer. 
 
VI.] HARM I ON. l8i 
 
 And Eustace, maddening at the sight, 
 A look and sign to Clara cast, 
 To mark he would return in haste, 
 
 Then plunged into the fight. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Ask me not what the maiden feels, 
 Left in that dreadful hour alone : 
 
 Perchance her reason stoops or reels ; 
 Perchance a courage, not her own. 
 Braces her mind to desperate tone. — 
 
 The scattered van of England wheels ; — 
 She only said, as loud in air 
 The tumult roared, " Is Wilton there ? " — 
 They fly, or, maddened by despair. 
 Fight but to die, — '' Is Wilton there ? " 
 
 With that, straight up the hill there rode 
 Two horsemen drenched with gore, 
 
 And in their arms, a helpless load, 
 A wounded knight they bore. 
 
 His hand still strained ^ the broken brand ; 
 
 His arms were smeared with blood and sand. 
 
 Dragged from among the horses' feet. 
 
 With dinted ^ shield, and helmet beat,^ 
 
 The falcon-crest and plumage gone. 
 
 Can that be haughty Marmion ! . . . 
 
 Young Blount his armor did unlace. 
 
 And, gazing on his ghastly face, 
 
 Said, ''By Saint George, he's gone! 
 
 That spear- wound has our master sped,* • 
 
 And see the deep cut on his head ! 
 Good-night to Marmion." — 
 
 1 Clasped. 2 Dented, 3 Battered by repeated blows. 
 
 4 Killed. 
 
1 82 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [CANTO 
 
 '' Unnurtured ^ Blount ! thy brawling cease : 
 He opes his eyes," said Eustace; ''peace!" 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 AVhen, doffed his casque, he felt free air. 
 Around 'gan Marmion wildly stare : 
 " Where's Harry Blount ? Fitz-Eustace where ? 
 Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare ! '^ 
 Redeem my pennon, — charge again! 
 Cry, ' Marmion to the rescue ! ' — Vain I 
 Last of my race, on battle plain 
 That shout shall ne'er be heard again! — 
 Yet my last thought is England's — fly, 
 To Dacre bear my signet ring : ^ 
 Tell him his squadrons up to bring. — 
 Fitz-Eustace, to Lord Surrey hie ; 
 Tunstall lies dead upon the field, 
 His lif eblood stains the spotless shield : 
 Edmund is down ; my life is reft ; ^ 
 The Admiral alone is left. 
 Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, — 
 With Chester charge, and Lancashire, 
 Full upon Scotland's central host. 
 Or victory and England's lost. — 
 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 murmured, '' Is there none, 
 
 1 Uneducated; ill-bred. 2 '' Hearts of hare,*' i.e., cowards. 
 
 3 A ring bearing a private seal. It would show Dacre that the message 
 came directly from Marmion. 
 
 4 Taken away. ^ See Glossary, 
 
VI.] . M ARM ION, 183 
 
 Of all my halls have nurst, 
 Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring 
 Of blessed water from the spring, 
 
 To slake my dying thirst!" 
 
 XXX. 
 
 O woman! in our hours of ease, 
 Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
 And variable as the shade 
 By the hght 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 her by the runnel's ^ side, 
 
 But in abhorrence backward drew ; 
 For, oozing from the mountain's side, 
 Where raged the war, a dark-red tide 
 
 Was curdling in the streamlet blue. 
 Where shall she turn! — behold her mark 
 
 A httle fountain cell, 
 Where water, clear as diamond- spark, 
 
 In a stone basin fell. 
 Above, some half-worn letters say, 
 Drinlt . fe^arp . pilgrim . Brink . ann . prap ♦ 
 JFor . t|)e . kinn . jsoul . of . €)H6il . <&xti ♦ 
 
 l®()o . fiuilt . tl)ifii . cro^jS . ann * to^ll . 
 She filled the helm, and back she hied, 
 And with surprise and joy espied 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
184 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 A monk supporting Marmion's head; 
 A pious man, whom duty brought 
 To dubious verge of battle fought,^ 
 
 To shrieve the dying, bless the dead. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave, 
 And, as she stooped his brow to lave, 
 ''Is it the hand of Clare," he said, 
 *' Or injured Constance, bathes my head ? " 
 
 Then, as remembrance rose, 
 ''Speak not to me of shrift 2 or prayer! 
 
 I must redress her woes. 
 Short space, few words, are mine to spare ; 
 Forgive and hsten, gentle Clare!" — 
 
 ''Alas!" she said, "the while, — 
 Oh, think of your immortal weal! 
 In vain for Constance is your zeal ; 
 
 She — died at Holy Isle." 
 Lord Marmion started from the ground, 
 As light as if he felt no wound, 
 Though in the action burst the tide 
 In torrents from his wounded side. 
 "Then it was truth," he said — " I knew 
 That the dark presage ^ must be true. — 
 I would the Fiend, to whom belongs 
 The vengeance due to all her wTongs, 
 
 Would spare me but a day! 
 For wasting fire, and dying groan, 
 And priests slain on the altar stone, 
 
 Might bribe him for delay. 
 
 1 '* Dubious verge," i.e., shifting outskirts of the battle. 
 
 2 Confession to a priest by a penitent, especially by one dying. 
 
 3 His feeling of presentiment in Canto III. xiii. 
 
VI.] MARMION. 185 
 
 It may not be! — this dizzy trance - 
 Curse on yon base marauder's lance, 
 And doubly cursed my failing brand! 
 A sinful heart makes feeble hand." 
 Then, fainting, down on earth he sunk, 
 Supported by the trembling monk. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 With fruitless labor Clara bound 
 
 And strove to stanch the gushing wound : 
 
 The monk, with unavailing cares. 
 
 Exhausted all the Church's prayers. 
 
 Ever, he 1 said, that, close and near, 
 
 A lady's ^ voice was in his ear. 
 
 And that the priest he could not hear ; 
 
 For that she ever sung, 
 *^In the lost battle^ borne down by the flyings 
 Where mingles war's rattle with groa?ts of the dying! " 
 
 So the notes rung ; — 
 " Avoid ^ thee. Fiend ! — with cruel hand, 
 Shake not the dying sinner's sand ! ^ — 
 Oh, look, my son, upon yon sign ^ 
 Of the Redeemer's grace divine ; 
 
 Oh, think on faith and bliss! — 
 By many a deathbed I have been, 
 And many a sinner's parting seen, 
 
 But never aught like this.'* 
 The war, that for a space did fail. 
 Now trebly thundering swelled the gale, 
 
 And " Stanley! " was the cry. 
 
 1 Marmion. 2 Constance's (see Canto III. xi.). 
 
 3 Away with. 
 
 * *' Shake not," etc., i.e., trouble not the sinner in his last moments. 
 The metaphor refers to the sand of the hourglass. 
 ^ Sybil Grey's cross at the fountain. 
 
1 86 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 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. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 By this, though deep the evening fell, 
 Still rose the battle's deadly swell, 
 For still the Scots, around their King, 
 Unbroken, fought in desperate ring.^ 
 Where's now their victor vaward wing. 
 
 Where Huntly, and where Home ? 
 Oh for a blast of that dread hom,2 
 On Fontarabian echoes borne, 
 
 That to King Charles did come. 
 When Rowland brave, and Olivier,^ 
 
 1 The closing scene of the battle seems to have been as follows. The 
 Admiral, during the charge of Huntly and Home on Sir Edmund Howard, 
 had stood firm, and, while the Borderers were pillaging, had seized the 
 opportunity to push Crawford and Montrose on the Scotch left, opposed 
 to him. Breaking these, he bent round and assailed the Scotch center 
 on the one side ; while Stanley, who had driven through the Scotch right 
 under Lennox and Argyle, attacked on the other. Thus the Scotch were 
 hemmed in. 
 
 2 The magic horn of Roland (or Rowland), a celebrated knight of medi- 
 aeval romance, and a supposed nephew of King Charlemagne (Charles). 
 Roland, in 778, while returning from Spain with Charlemagne's rearguard, 
 was attacked by pagan forces at Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees, and cut to 
 pieces before Charlemagne could render aid, the latter hearing the blast of 
 his horn at Fontarabia, thirty miles away. Roland hesitated to use it until 
 the last moment, and then it was too late. He blew three blasts, and at the 
 last the horn split. 
 
 3 A renowned peer of Charlemagpe. 
 
VL] HARM ION. 1S7 
 
 And every paladin ^ and peer, 
 
 On Roncesvalles died! 
 Such blasts might warn them, 2 not in vain, 
 To quit the plunder of the slain, 
 And turn the doubtful day again, 
 
 While yet on Flodden side. 
 Afar, the Royal Standard flies. 
 And round it toils and bleeds and dies 
 
 Our Caledonian^ pride! 
 In vain the wish — for far away. 
 While spoil and havoc mark their way, 
 Near Sybil's Cross the plunderers stray. 
 *' O Lady," cried the monk, "away!" 
 
 And placed her on her steed. 
 And led her to the chapel fair. 
 
 Of Tilmouth upon Tweed. 
 There all the night they spent in prayer, 
 And at the dawn of morning, there 
 She met'her kinsman. Lord Fitz-Clare. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 But as they left the dark'ning heath. 
 More desperate grew the strife of death. 
 The English shafts ^ in volleys hailed. 
 In headlong charge their horse assailed ; 
 Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep 
 To break the Scottish circle deep. 
 That fought around their King.^ 
 
 1 See Glossary, 
 
 2 The Borderers of Huntly and Home, who were pillaging. 
 
 3 Scotch. 
 ^ Arrows. 
 
 5 The whole English force, with the exception of Dacre's command, are 
 at this point attacking the Scotch center, which has formed a circle, and fights 
 stubbornly. 
 
i88 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, 
 Though charging knights Uke whirlwinds go, 
 Though billmen ply the ghastly blow, 
 
 Unbroken was the ring ; 
 The stubborn spearmen still made good 
 Their dark impenetrable wood,^ 
 Each stepping where his comrade stood. 
 
 The instant that he fell. 
 No thought was there of dastard flight ; 
 Linked in the serried phalanx tight, 
 Groom fought like noble, squire Uke knight, 
 
 As fearlessly and well ; 
 Till utter darkness closed her wing 
 O'er their thin host and wounded King. 
 Then skillful Surrey's sage commands 
 Led back from strife his shattered bands ; 
 
 And from the charge they drew, 
 As mountain-waves from wasted lands 
 
 Sweep back to ocean blue. 
 Then did their loss his foemen know ; 
 Their King, their lords, their mightiest low,2 
 They melted from the field, as snow. 
 When streams are swoln and south winds blow, 
 
 Dissolves in silent dew. 
 Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, 
 
 While many a broken band. 
 Disordered, 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. 
 
 1 Referring to the forest-like appearance of the bristling spears. 
 
 2 The English lost about five thousand ; the Scotch, twice that number, 
 among the latter many noblemen. 
 
VI.] M ARM I ON, 189 
 
 Tradition, legend, tune, and song 
 Shall many an age that wail prolong : 
 Still from the sire the son shall hear 
 Of the stem strife, and carnage drear, 
 
 Of Flodden's fatal field, 
 Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, 
 
 And broken was her shield! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 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 ,2 
 Defaced and mangled though it be ; 
 Nor to yon Border castle ^ high 
 Look northward with upbraiding eye ; 
 
 Nor cherish hope in vain. 
 That, journeying far on foreign strand, 
 The Royal Pilgrim ^ to his land 
 
 May yet return again. 
 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 clinched within his manly hand. 
 
 Beseemed the monarch slain. 
 
 1 The corpse of the King. 
 
 2 As if doubting its identity. Referring to the rumor that James was 
 not slain at Flodden. 
 
 ^ Home Castle. This refers to an idle rumor which charged Home with 
 the murder of the King in his castle. 
 
 * King James. A current report was that he made a pilgrimage to Jeru- 
 salem in expiation of the death of his father, and his breach of faith with 
 Henry VIII. 
 
190 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [canto 
 
 But, oh, how changed since yon blithe night! — 
 Gladly I turn me from the sight 
 Unto my tale again. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Short is my tale : Fitz-Eustace' care 
 
 A pierced and mangled body bare 
 
 To moated Lichfield's ^ lofty pile ; 
 
 And there, beneath the southern aisle, 
 
 A tomb, with Gothic sculpture fair, 
 
 Did long Lord Marmion's image bear. 
 
 (Now vainly for its site you look ; 
 
 'Twas leveled when fanatic Brook 2 
 
 The fair cathedral stormed and took ; 
 
 But, thanks to Heaven, and good Saint Chad!^ 
 
 A guerdon meet ^ the spoiler had ! ) 
 
 There erst was martial Marmion ^ found, 
 
 His feet upon a couchant ^ hound, 
 
 His hands to heaven upraised ; 
 And all around, on scutcheon rich. 
 And tablet carved, and fretted niche, 
 
 His arms and feats were blazedJ 
 And yet, though all was canned so fair, 
 And priest for Marmion breathed the prayer, 
 The last Lord Marmion lay not there. 
 From Ettrick woods,^ a peasant swain 
 
 1 Lichfield Cathedral. A moat was put around it during the Parliamen- 
 tary war, when it was garrisoned for Charles I. 
 
 2 Lord Brook, one of the Puritan leaders in this attack on the Cathedral. 
 
 3 Ceadda, a hermit and bishop of the seventh century, who, after resign- 
 ing the York bishopric in 669, became Bishop of Lichfield. 
 
 * *' Guerdon meet," i.e., fit reward. Brook was killed on Saint Chad's 
 Day by a shot fired from Saint Chad's Cathedral. 
 
 5 Marmion's sculptured image. ^ See Glossary, ^ Blazoned. 
 
 8 Ettrick Forest, in southeastern Scotland. 
 
.] MARMION, 191 
 
 Followed his lord to Flodden plain, — 
 One of those flowers whom plaintive lay ^ 
 In Scotland mourns as '' wede away :" 2 
 Sore wounded, Sybil's Cross he spied, 
 And dragged him to its foot, and died, 
 Close by the noble Marmion's side. 
 The spoilers stripped and gashed the slain, 
 And thus their corpses were mistaken ; 
 And thus, in the proud baron's tomb, 
 The lowly woodsman took the room. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Less easy task it were to show 
 
 Lord Marmion's nameless grave, and low. 
 
 They dug his grave e'en where he lay, 
 But every mark is gone : 
 
 Time's wasting hand has done away 
 
 The simple Cross of Sybil Grey, 
 And broke her font of stone ;^ 
 But yet out from the little hill 
 Oozes the slender springlet still. 
 
 Oft halts the stranger there, 
 For thence may best his curious eye 
 The memorable field descry ; 
 
 And shepherd boys repair 
 To seek the water flag and rush. 
 And rest them by the hazel bush, 
 
 And plait their garlands fair, 
 Nor dream they sit upon the grave 
 That holds the bones of Marmion brave. 
 When thou shalt find the little hill, 
 
 1 An old Scotch ballad of Flodden. 
 
 2 Laid waste ; literally, weeded away. 
 
 3 The stone basin referred to in Stanza xxx. 
 
192 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 
 
 With thy heart commune, and be still. 
 If ever, in temptation strong. 
 Thou left' St the right path for the wrong ; 
 If every devious step thus trod 
 Still led thee farther from the road ; 
 Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom 
 On noble Marmion's lowly tomb ; 
 But say, '' He died a gallant knight, 
 With sword in hand, for England's right." 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 I do not rhyme to that dull elf 
 
 Who cannot image to himself 
 
 That all through Flodden's dismal night 
 
 Wilton was foremost in the fight ; 
 
 That, when brave Surrey's steed was slain, 
 
 'Twas Wilton mounted him again ; 
 
 'Twas Wilton's brand that deepest hewed 
 
 Amid the spearmen's stubborn wood : 
 
 Unnamed by Hollinshed ^ or Hall,^ 
 
 He was the living soul of all ; 
 
 That, after fight, his faith ^ made plain, 
 
 He won his rank and lands again. 
 
 And charged his old paternal shield 
 
 With bearings won on Flodden Field. 
 
 Nor sing I to that simple maid 
 
 To whom it must in terms be said 
 
 That King and kinsmen did agree 
 
 To bless fair Clara's constancy ; 
 
 Who cannot, unless I relate. 
 
 Paint to her mind the bridal's state, — 
 
 That Wolsey's ^ voice the blessing spoke, 
 
 1 A chronicler of the sixteenth century. 
 
 2 Innocence. 3 Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
MARMION. 193 
 
 More,^ Sands, and Denny, passed the joke : 
 
 That bluff King Hal the curtain 2 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 5 Hke Wilton and like Clare!" 
 
 UENVOY.6 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 WHY then a final note prolong, 
 Or lengthen out a closing song, 
 Unless to bid the gentles speed, 
 Who long have listed to my rede ? '^ 
 To statesmen grave, if such may deign 
 To read the minstrel's idle strain, 
 Sound head, clean hand, and piercing wit, 
 And patriotic heart — as Pitt ! 
 A garland for the hero's crest. 
 And twined by her he loves the best ! 
 To every lovely lady bright. 
 What can I wish but faithful knight ? 
 To every faithful lover too. 
 What can I wish but lady true ? 
 
 1 Sir Thomas More (lord chancellor after Wolsey), Lord Sands, and 
 Anthony Denny. Compare Shakespeare^s Henry VIII. 
 
 2 The curtain of the bridal apartment. 
 
 3 Catherine of Aragon, first wife of Henry VIII., divorced in 1533. 
 
 * An old English marriage custom was to throw a stocking after the bride 
 or groom. 
 
 5 '* Love they," i.e., may they love. 
 
 6 See Glossary, 7 Story. 
 
194 -SIJ^ WALTER SCOTT, [canto vi.] 
 
 And knowledge to the studious sage, 
 
 And pillow to the head of age. 
 
 To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay 
 
 Has cheated of thy hour of play, 
 
 Light task and merry holiday! 
 
 To all, to each, a fair good-night. 
 
 And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light! 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 TO WILLIAM STEWART ROSE, Esq. 
 
 Ashes tie If Ettrick Forest, 
 
 NOVEMBER'S sky is chill and drear, 
 November's leaf is red and sear : 
 Late, gazing down the steepy linn 
 That hems our little garden in. 
 Low in its dark and narrow glen, 
 You scarce the rivulet might ken, 
 So thick the tangled greenwood grew, 
 So feeble trilled the streamlet through : 
 Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen 
 Through bush and brier, no longer green, 
 An angry brook, it sweeps the glade. 
 Brawls over rock and wild cascade, 
 And, foaming brown with double speed, 
 Hurries its waters to the Tweed. 
 
 No longer autumn's glowing red 
 Upon our Forest hills is shed ; 
 No more, beneath the evening beam. 
 Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam. 
 Away hath passed the heather-bell 
 That bloomed so rich on Needpath-fell ; 
 Sallow his brow, and russet bare 
 Are now the sister-heights of Yair. 
 The sheep, before the pinching heaven, 
 To sheltered dale and down are driven, 
 195 
 
196 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Where yet some faded herbage pines, 
 And yet a watery sunbeam shines : 
 In meek despondency they eye 
 The withered sward and wintry sky, 
 And far beneath their summer hill 
 Stray sadly by Glenkinnon's rill. 
 The shepherd shifts his mantle's fold, 
 And wraps him closer from the cold ; 
 His dogs no merry circles wheel, 
 But, shivering, follow at his heel ; 
 A cowering glance they often cast, 
 As deeper moans the gathering blast. 
 
 My imps, though hardy, bold, and wild, 
 As best befits the mountain child. 
 Feel the sad influence of the hoiu*. 
 And wail the daisy's vanished flower ; 
 Their summer gambols tell, and mourn, 
 And anxious ask, Will spring return. 
 And birds and lambs again be gay. 
 And blossoms clothe the hawthorn spray? 
 
 Yes, prattlers, yes. The daisy's flower 
 Again shall paint your summer bower ; 
 Again the hawthorn shall supply 
 The garlands you delight to tie ; 
 The lambs upon the lea shall bound, 
 The wild birds carol to the round. 
 And while you frolic light as they. 
 Too short shall seem the summer day. 
 
 To mute and to material things 
 New life revolving summer brings ; 
 The genial call dead Nature hears. 
 And in her glory reappears. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 197 
 
 But oh! my country's wintry state 
 
 What second spring shall renovate ? 
 
 AVhat powerful call shall bid arise 
 
 The buried warlike and the wise ; 
 
 The mind that thought for Britain's weal, 
 
 The hand that grasped the victor steel ? 
 
 The vernal sun new life bestows 
 
 Even on the meanest flower that blows ; 
 
 But vainly, vainly may he shine 
 
 Where Glory weeps o'er Nelson's shrine, 
 
 And vainly pierce the solemn gloom 
 
 That shrouds, O Pitt, thy hallowed tomb! 
 
 Deep graved in every British heart, 
 Oh, never let those names depart! 
 Say to your sons, Lo, here his grave 
 Who victor died on Gadite wave ! 
 To him, as to the burning levin. 
 Short, bright, resistless coiu'se was given. 
 Where'er his country's foes were found. 
 Was heard the fated thunder's sound. 
 Till burst the bolt on yonder shore. 
 Rolled, blazed, destroyed, — and was no more. 
 
 Nor mourn ye less his perished worth 
 Who bade the conqueror go forth. 
 And launched that thunderbolt of war 
 On Egypt, Hafnia, Trafalgar ; 
 Who, bom to guide such high emprise. 
 For Britain's weal was early wise ; 
 Alas! to whom the Almighty gave. 
 For Britain's sins, an early grave! 
 His worth, who, in his mightiest hour, 
 A bauble held the pride of power, 
 Spurned at the sordid lust of pelf. 
 
198 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 And served his Albion for herself ; 
 Who, when the frantic crowd amain 
 Strained at subjection's bursting rein, 
 O'er their wild mood full conquest gained, 
 The pride, he would not crush, restrained. 
 Showed their fierce zeal a worthier cause, 
 And brought the freeman's arm to aid the freeman's 
 laws. 
 
 Hadst thou but lived, though stripped of power, 
 A watchman on the lonely tower. 
 Thy thrilling trump had roused the land. 
 When fraud or danger were at hand ; 
 By thee, as by the beacon light, 
 Our pilots had kept course aright ; 
 As some proud column, though alone. 
 Thy strength had propped the tottering throne. 
 Now is the stately column broke. 
 The beacon light is quenched in smoke, 
 The trumpet's silver sound is still, 
 The warder silent on the hill! 
 
 Oh, think, how to his latest day, 
 ' When Death, just hovering, claimed his prey. 
 
 With Palinure's unaltered mood, 
 Firm at his dangerous post he stood ; 
 Each call for needful rest repelled, 
 With dying hand the rudder held. 
 Till, in his fall, with fateful sway, 
 The steerage of the realm gave way! 
 Then, while on Britain's thousand plains 
 One unpolluted church remains, 
 Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent around 
 The bloody tocsin's maddening sound. 
 But still, upon the hallowed day, 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST, 199 
 
 Convoke the swains to praise and pray ; 
 While faith and civil peace are dear, 
 Grace this cold marble with a tear, — 
 He who preserved them, Pitt, lies here. 
 
 Nor yet suppress the generous sigh 
 Because his rival slumbers nigh ; 
 Nor be thy requiescat dumb 
 Lest it be said o'er Fox's tomb ; 
 For talents mourn, untimely lost. 
 When best employed, and wanted most ; 
 Mourn genius high, and lore profound, 
 And wit that loved to play, not wound ; 
 And all the reasoning powers divine. 
 To penetrate, resolve, combine ; 
 And feelings keen, and fancy's glow, 
 They sleep with him who sleeps below : 
 And, if thou mourn'st they could not save 
 From error him who owns this grave. 
 Be every harsher thought suppressed, * 
 And sacred be the last long rest. 
 Here^ where the end of earthly things 
 Lays heroes, patriots, bards, and kings ; 
 Where stiff the hand, and still the tongue, 
 Of those who fought and spoke and sung ; 
 Here^ where the fretted aisles prolong 
 The distant notes of holy song, 
 As if some angel spoke again, 
 "All peace on earth, good will to men ;" 
 If ever from an English heart, 
 Oh, here let prejudice depart, 
 And, partial feeling cast aside, 
 Record that Fox a Briton died! 
 When Europe crouched to France's yoke, 
 And Austria bent, and Prussia broke, 
 
200 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 And the firm Russian's purpose brave 
 Was bartered by a timorous slave, 
 Even then dishonor's peace he spumed, 
 The sulhed ohve branch returned. 
 Stood for his country's glory fast. 
 And nailed her colors to the mast! 
 Heaven, to reward his firmness, gave 
 A portion in this honored grave. 
 And ne'er held marble in its trust 
 Of two such wondrous men the dust. 
 
 With more than mortal powers endowed. 
 How high they soared above the crowd ! 
 
 Theirs was no common party race. 
 
 Jostling by dark intrigue for place ; 
 
 Like fabled Gods, their mighty war 
 
 Shook realms and nations in its jar ; 
 
 Beneath each banner proud to stand. 
 
 Looked up the noblest of the land, 
 
 Tiil through the British world were known 
 
 The names of Pitt and Fox alone. 
 
 Spells of such force no wizard grave 
 
 E'er framed in dark Thessahan cave. 
 
 Though his could drain the ocean dry. 
 
 And force the planets from the sky. 
 
 These spells are spent, and, spent with these. 
 
 The wine of life is on the lees. 
 
 Genius and taste, and talent gone. 
 
 Forever tombed beneath the stone, 
 
 Where — taming thought to human pride! — 
 
 The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. 
 
 Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 
 
 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier ; 
 
 O'er Pitt's the moiunful requiem sound, 
 
 And Fox's shall the notes rebound. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 20I 
 
 The solemn echo seems to cry, 
 '' Here let their discord with them die. 
 Speak not for those a separate doom, 
 Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb ; 
 But search the land of living men, 
 Where wilt thou find their like again ? " 
 
 Rest, ardent spirits, till the cries 
 Of dying Nature bid you rise! 
 Not even your Britain's groans can pierce 
 The leaden silence of your hearse ; 
 Then, oh, how impotent and vain 
 This grateful tributary strain! 
 Though not unmarked from northern clime, 
 Ye heard the Border Minstrel's rhyme : 
 His Gothic harp has o'er you rung ; 
 The Bard you deigned to praise, your deathless names 
 has sung. 
 
 Stay yet, illusion, stay awhile, 
 My wildered fancy still beguile! 
 From this high theme how can I part, 
 Ere half unloaded is my heart! 
 For all the tears e'er sorrow drew. 
 And all the raptures fancy knew. 
 And all the keener rush of blood 
 That throbs through bard in bard-like mood, 
 Were here a tribute mean and low. 
 Though all their mingled streams could flow — 
 Woe, wonder, and sensation high. 
 In one springtide of ecstasy ! — 
 It will not be — it may not last — 
 The vision of enchantment's past : 
 Like frostwork in the morning ray, 
 The fancied fabric melts away ; 
 
202 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Each Gothic arch, memorial stone, 
 And long, dim, lofty aisle, are gone ; 
 And, lingering last, deception dear. 
 The choir's high sounds die on my ear. 
 Now slow return the lonely down, 
 The silent pastures bleak and brown. 
 The farm begirt with copsewood wild, 
 The gambols of each frolic child. 
 Mixing their shrill cries with the tone 
 Of Tweed's dark waters rushing on. 
 
 Prompt on unequal tasks to run, 
 Thus Nature disciplines her son : 
 Meeter, she says, for me to stray, 
 And waste the solitary day 
 In plucking from yon fen the reed. 
 And watch it floating down the Tweed ; 
 Or idly list the shrilling lay 
 With which the milkmaid cheers her way. 
 Marking its cadence rise and fail. 
 As from the field, beneath her pail, 
 She trips it down the uneven dale ; 
 Meeter for me, by yonder cairn. 
 The ancient shepherd's tale to learn * 
 Though oft he stop in rustic fear. 
 Lest his old legends tire the ear 
 Of one, who, in his simple mind, 
 May boast of book-learned taste refined. 
 
 But thou, my friend, canst fitly tell 
 (For few have read romance so well) 
 How still the legendary lay 
 O'er poet's bosom holds its sway ; 
 How on the ancient minstrel strain 
 Time lays his palsied hand in vain ; 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 203 
 
 And how our hearts at doughty deeds, 
 By warriors wrought in steely weeds, 
 Still throb for fear and pity's sake ; 
 As when the Champion of the Lake 
 Enters Morgana's fated house, 
 Or in the Chapel Perilous, 
 Despising spells and demons' force. 
 Holds converse with the unburied corse ; 
 Or when, Dame Ganore's grace to move, 
 (Alas, that lawless was their love ! ) 
 He sought proud Tarquin in his den. 
 And freed full sixty knights ; or when, 
 A sinful man, and unconfessed, 
 He took the Sangreal's holy quest. 
 And, slumbering, saw the vision high, 
 He might not view with waking eye. 
 
 The mightiest chiefs of British song 
 Scorned not such legends to prolong: 
 They gleam through Spenser's elfin dream, 
 And mix in Milton's heavenly theme ; 
 And Dryden, in immortal strain, 
 Had raised the Table Round again. 
 But that a ribald king and court 
 Bade him toil on, to make them sport ; 
 Demanded for their niggard pay. 
 Fit for their souls, a looser lay, 
 Licentious satire, song, and play ; 
 The world defrauded of the high design. 
 Profaned the God-given strength, and marred the 
 lofty line* 
 
 Warmed by such names, well may we then. 
 Though dwindled sons of little men. 
 Essay to break a feeble lance 
 
2 04 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 In the fair fields of old romance ; 
 
 Or seek the moated castle's cell, 
 
 Where long through talisman and spell, 
 
 While tyrants ruled, and damsels wept, 
 
 Thy Genius, Chivalry, hath slept : 
 
 There sound the harpings of the North, 
 
 Till he awake and sally forth, 
 
 On venturous quest to prick again, 
 
 In all his arms, with all his train, 
 
 Shield, lance, and brand, and plume, and scarf, 
 
 Fay, giant, dragon, squire, and dwarf. 
 
 And wizard with his wand of might. 
 
 And errant maid on palfrey white. 
 
 Around the Genius weave their spells, 
 
 Pure Love, who scarce his passion tells ; 
 
 Mystery, half veiled and half revealed ; 
 
 And Honor, with his spotless shield ; 
 
 Attention, with fixed eye ; and Fear, 
 
 That loves the tale she shrinks to hear ; 
 
 And gentle Courtesy ; and Faith, 
 
 Unchanged by sufferings, time, or death ; 
 
 And Valor, lion-mettled lord. 
 
 Leaning upon his own good sword. 
 
 Well has thy fair achievement shown 
 A worthy meed may thus be won ; 
 Ytene's oaks — beneath whose shade 
 Their theme the merry minstrels made, 
 Of Ascapart, and Bevis bold. 
 And that Red King, who, while of old 
 Through Boldrewood the chase he led, 
 By his loved huntsman's arrow bled — 
 Ytene's oaks have heard again 
 Renewed such legendary strain ; 
 For thou hast sung how he of Gaul, 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 205 
 
 That Amadis so famed in hall, 
 
 For Oriana, foiled in fight 
 
 The Necromancer's felon might ; 
 
 And well in modern verse hast wove 
 
 Partenopex's mystic love : 
 
 Hear, then, attentive to my lay, 
 
 A knightly tale of Albion's elder day. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 TO THE REV. JOHN MARRIOTT, .A.M. 
 
 Ashes tie If Ettrick Forest. 
 
 THE scenes are desert now, and bare, 
 Where flourished once a forest fair. 
 When these waste glens with copse were lined. 
 And peopled with the hart and hind. 
 Yon Thorn — perchance whose prickly spears 
 Have fenced him for three hundred years, 
 While fell around his green compeers — 
 Yon lonely Thorn, would he could tell 
 The changes of his parent dell. 
 Since he, so gray and stubborn now. 
 Waved in each breeze a sapling bough ; 
 Would he could tell how deep the shade 
 A thousand mingled branches made ; 
 How broad the shadows of the oak. 
 How clung the rowan to the rock. 
 And through the fohage showed his head. 
 With narrow leaves and berries red ; ' 
 What pines on every mountain sprung, 
 O'er every dell what birches hung. 
 In every breeze what aspens shook, 
 What alders shaded every brook! 
 
• 2o6 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 '' Here, in my shade," methinks he'd say, 
 *' The mighty stag at noontide lay : 
 The wolf I've seen, a fiercer game, 
 (The neighboring dingle bears his name,) 
 With lurching step around me prowl, 
 And stop, against the moon to howl ; 
 The mountain boar, on battle set. 
 His tusks upon my stem would whet ; 
 While doe, and roe, and red deer good, 
 Have bounded by through gay greenwood. 
 Then oft, from Newark's riven tower. 
 Sallied a Scottish monarch's power : 
 A thousand vassals mustered round. 
 With horse, and hawk, and horn, and hound ; 
 And I might see the youth intent 
 Guard every pass with crossbow bent ; 
 And through the brake the rangers stalk, 
 And falc'ners hold the ready hawk; 
 And foresters, in greenwood trim. 
 Lead in the leash the gazehounds grim, 
 Attentive, as the bratchet's bay 
 From the dark covert drove the prey. 
 To slip them as he broke away. 
 The startled quarry bounds amain, 
 As fast the gallant greyhounds strain ; 
 Whistles the arrow from the bow, 
 Answers the harquebuss below ; 
 While all the rocking hills reply 
 To hoof clang, hound, and hunters' cry, 
 And bugles ringing lightsomely." 
 
 Of such proud huntings many tales 
 Yet linger in our lonely dales, 
 Up pathless Ettrick and on Yarrow, 
 Where erst the outlaw drew his arrow. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND, 207 
 
 But not more blithe that silvan court 
 
 Than we have been at humbler sport ; 
 
 Though small oiu" pomp, and mean our game, 
 
 Our mirth, dear Marriott, was the same. 
 
 Remember'st thou my greyhounds true ? 
 
 O'er holt or hill there never flew, 
 
 From slip or leash there never sprang, 
 
 More fleet of foot, or sure of fang. 
 
 Nor dull, between each merry chase, 
 
 Passed by the intermitted space ; 
 
 For we had fair resoiu-ce in store, 
 
 In Classic and in Gothic lore : 
 
 We marked each memorable scene. 
 
 And held poetic talk between ; 
 
 Nor hill, nor brook, we paced along. 
 
 But had its legend or its song. 
 
 All silent now — for now are still 
 
 Thy bowers, untenanted Bowhill! 
 
 No longer from thy mountains dun 
 
 The yeoman hears the well-known gun. 
 
 And, while his honest heart glows warm 
 
 At thought of his paternal farm, 
 
 Round to his mates a brimmer fills, 
 
 And drinks, ^^The Chieftain of the Hills!" 
 
 No fairy forms, in Yarrow's bowers. 
 
 Trip o'er the walks, or tend the flowers, 
 
 Fair as the elves whom Janet saw 
 
 By moonlight dance on Carterhaugh ; 
 
 No youthful Baron's left to grace 
 
 The Forest- Sheriff's lonely chase. 
 
 And ape, in manly step and tone. 
 
 The majesty of Oberon : 
 
 And she is gone, whose lovely face 
 
 Is but her least and lowest grace ; 
 
 Though if to Sylphid Queen 'twere given 
 
2o8 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 To show our earth the charms of heaven, 
 She could not glide along the air 
 With form more light, or face more fair. 
 No more the widow's deafened ear 
 Grows quick that lady's step to hear : 
 At noontide she expects her not. 
 Nor busies her to trim the cot ; 
 Pensive she turns her humming wheel, 
 Or pensive cooks her orphans' meal, 
 Yet blesses, ere she deals their bread, 
 The gentle hand by which they're fed. 
 
 From Yair — which hills so closely bind, 
 Scarce can the Tweed his passage find, 
 Though much he fret, and chafe, and toil, 
 Till all his eddying currents boil — 
 Her long-descended lord is gone. 
 And left us by the stream alone. 
 And much I miss those sportive boys, 
 Companions of my mountain joys, 
 Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, 
 When thought is speech, and speech is truth. 
 Close to my side, with what delight 
 They pressed to hear of Wallace wight. 
 When, pointing to his airy mound, 
 I called his ramparts holy ground ! 
 Kindled their brows to hear me speak ; 
 And I have smiled, to feel my cheek, 
 Despite the difference of our years, 
 Return again the glow of theirs. 
 Ah, happy boys ! such feelings pure. 
 They will not, can not, long endure ; 
 Condemned to stem the world's rude tide. 
 You may not linger by the side ; 
 For Fate shall thrust you from the shore. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND, 209 
 
 And Passion ply the sail and oar. 
 Yet cherish the remembrance still 
 Of the lone mountain and the rill ; 
 For trust, dear boys, the time will come 
 When fiercer transport shall be dumb. 
 And you will think right frequently, 
 But, well I hope, without a sigh. 
 On the free hours that we have spent 
 Together on the brown hill's bent. 
 
 When, musing on companions gone, 
 We doubly feel ourselves alone. 
 Something, my friend, we yet may gain, 
 There is a pleasure in this pain : 
 It soothes the love of lonely rest. 
 Deep in each gentler heart impressed. 
 'Tis silent amid worldly toils. 
 And stifled soon by mental broils ; 
 But, in a bosom thus prepared, 
 Its still small voice is often heard, 
 Whispering a mingled sentiment 
 'Twixt resignation and content. 
 Oft in my mind such thoughts awake 
 By lone Saint Mary's silent lake ; 
 Thou know'st it well — nor fen nor sedge 
 Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge ; 
 Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink 
 At once upon the level brink. 
 And just a trace of silver sand 
 Marks where the water meets the land. 
 Far in the mirror, bright and blue. 
 Each hill's huge outline you may view ; 
 Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare. 
 Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake is there. 
 Save where, of land, yon slender line 
 14 
 
2IO SIR WALTER SCOTT 
 
 Bears thwart the lake the scattered pine, 
 
 Yet even this nakedness has power, 
 
 And aids the feehng of the hour : 
 
 Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy, 
 
 Where Hving thing concealed might lie ; 
 
 Nor point, retiring, hides a dell 
 
 Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell ; 
 
 There's nothing left to fancy's guess, 
 
 You see that all is loneUness : 
 
 And silence aids — though the steep hills 
 
 Send to the lake a thousand rills ; 
 
 In summer tide, so soft they weep, 
 
 The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; 
 
 Your horse's hoof tread sounds too rude. 
 
 So stilly is the sohtude. 
 
 Naught living meets the eye or ear. 
 But well I ween the dead are near ; 
 For though, in feudal strife, a foe 
 Hath laid Our Lady's chapel low, 
 Yet still, beneath the hallowed soil, 
 The peasant rests him from his toil. 
 And, dpng, bids his bones be laid 
 Where erst his simple fathers prayed. - 
 
 If age had tamed the passions' strife. 
 And fate had cut my ties to hfe, 
 Here, have I thought, 'twere sweet to dwell, 
 And rear again the chaplain's cell, 
 Like that same peaceful hermitage. 
 Where Milton longed to spend his age. 
 'Twere sweet to mark the setting day 
 On Bourhope's lonely top decay ; 
 And, as it faint and feeble died 
 On the broad lake, and mountain's side. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 2ii 
 
 To say, • ' Thus pleasures fade away ; 
 
 Youth, talents, beauty, thus decay. 
 
 And leave us dark, forlorn, and gray;" 
 
 Then gaze on Dryhope's ruined tower, 
 
 And think on Yarrow's faded Flower: 
 
 And when that mountain sound I heard, 
 
 Which bids us be for storm prepared, 
 
 The distant rustling of his wings, 
 
 As up his force the Tempest brings, 
 
 'Twere sweet, ere yet his terrors rave. 
 
 To sit upon the Wizard's grave, — 
 
 That Wizard Priest's, whose bones are thrust 
 
 From company of holy dust ; 
 
 On which no sunbeam ever shines — 
 
 (So superstition's creed divines) — 
 
 Thence view the lake, with sullen roar. 
 
 Heave her broad billows to the shore ; 
 
 And mark the wild swans mount the gale. 
 
 Spread wide through mist their snowy sail, 
 
 And ever stoop again, to lave 
 
 Their bosoms on the surging w^ave ; 
 
 Then, when against the driving hail 
 
 No longer might my plaid avail. 
 
 Back to my lonely home retire. 
 
 And hght my lamp, and trim my fire ; 
 
 There ponder o'er somic mystic lay, 
 
 Till the wild tale had all its sway. 
 
 And, in the bittern's distant shriek, 
 
 I heard unearthly voices speak, 
 
 And thought the Wizard Priest was come 
 
 To claim again his ancient home! 
 
 And bade my busy fancy range, 
 
 To frame him fitting shape, and strange, 
 
 Till from the task my brow I cleared, 
 
 And smiled to think that I had feared. 
 
212 . SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 But chief, 'twere sweet to think such life 
 (Though but escape from fortune's strife) 
 Something most matchless good and wise, 
 A great and grateful sacrifice, 
 And deem each hour to musing given 
 A step upon the road to heaven. 
 
 Yet him whose heart is ill at ease 
 Such peaceful solitudes displease ; 
 He loves to drown his bosom's jar 
 Amid the elemental war : 
 And my black Palmer's choice had been 
 Some ruder and more savage scene, 
 Like that which frowns round dark Loch-skene. 
 There eagles scream from isle to shore ; 
 Down all the rocks the torrents roar ; 
 O'er the black waves incessant driven, 
 Dark mists infect the summer heaven ; 
 Through the rude barriers of the lake, 
 Away its hurrying waters break, 
 Faster and whiter dash and curl. 
 Till down yon dark abyss they hurl. 
 Rises the fog-smoke white as snow. 
 Thunders the viewless stream below, 
 Diving, as if condemned to lave 
 Some demon's subterranean cave. 
 Who, prisoned by enchanter's spell. 
 Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell. 
 And well that Palmer's form and mien 
 Had suited with the stormy scene. 
 Just on the edge, straining his ken 
 To view the bottom of the den, 
 Where, deep deep down, and far within. 
 Toils with the rocks the roaring hnn ; 
 Then, issuing forth one foamy wave, 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD. 213 
 
 And wheeling round the Giant's Grave, 
 White as the snowy charger's tail, 
 Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. 
 
 Marriott, thy harp, on Isis strung. 
 To many a Border theme has rung : 
 Then list to me, and thou shalt know 
 Of this mysterious Man of Woe. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 TO WILLIAM ERSKINE, Esq. 
 
 Ashes tie I, Et trick Forest. 
 
 LIKE April morning clouds, that pass 
 With varying shadow o'er the grass, 
 And imitate on field and furrow 
 Life's checkered scene of joy and sorrow; 
 Like streamlet of the mountain north, 
 Now in a torrent racing forth. 
 Now winding slow its silver train. 
 And almost slumbering on the plain ; 
 Like breezes of the autumn day. 
 Whose voice inconstant dies away, 
 And ever swells again as fast. 
 When the ear deems its murmur past ; 
 , Thus various, my romantic theme 
 
 Flits, winds, or sinks, a morning dream. 
 Yet pleased, our eye pursues the trace 
 Of Light and Shade's inconstant race ; 
 Pleased, views the rivulet afar. 
 Weaving its maze irregular; 
 And pleased, we listen as the breeze 
 
214 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 Heaves its wild sigh through autumn trees ; 
 Then, wild as cloud, or stream, or gale, 
 Flow on, flow unconfined, my Tale! 
 
 Need I to thee, dear Erskine, tell 
 I love the license all too well. 
 In sounds now lowly, and now strong, 
 To raise the desultory song ? 
 Oft, when 'mid such capricious chime, 
 Some transient fit of lofty rhyme 
 To thy kind judgment seemed excuse 
 For many an error of the muse, 
 Oft hast thou said, '' If, still misspent, 
 Thine hours to poetry are lent. 
 Go, and to tame thy wandering course, 
 Quaff from the fountain at the source ; 
 Approach those masters o'er whose tomb 
 Immortal laurels ever bloom : 
 Instructive of the feebler bard. 
 Still from the grave their voice is heard ; 
 From them, and from the paths they showed, 
 Choose honored guide and practiced road ; 
 Nor ramble on through brake and maze. 
 With harpers rude of barbarous days. 
 
 '' Or deem'st thou not our later time 
 Yields topic meet for classic rhyme ? 
 Hast thou no elegiac verse 
 For Brunswick's venerable hearse ? 
 What! not a line, a tear, a sigh. 
 When valor bleeds for liberty ? — 
 Oh, hero of that glorious time, 
 When, with unrivaled light sublime, — 
 Though martial Austria, and though all 
 The might of Russia, and the Gaul, 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD, 215 
 
 Though banded Europe stood her foes, — 
 The star of Brandenburg arose! 
 Thou couldst not Hve to see her beam 
 Forever quenched in Jena's stream. 
 Lamented chief! — it was not given 
 To thee to change the doom of Heaven, 
 And crush that dragon in its birth. 
 Predestined scourge of guilty earth. 
 Lamented chief ! — not thine the power 
 To save in that presumptuous hour 
 When Prussia hurried to the field, 
 And snatched the spear, but left the shield! 
 Valor and skill 'twas thine to try. 
 And, tried in vain, 'twas thine to die. 
 Ill had it seemed thy silver hair 
 The last, the bitterest pang to share. 
 For princedoms reft, and scutcheons riven, 
 And birthrights to usurpers given ; 
 Thy land's, thy children's wrongs to feel, 
 ■ And witness woes thou couldst not heal! 
 On thee relenting Heaven bestows 
 For honored life an honored close ; 
 And when revolves, in time's sure change, 
 The hour of Germany's revenge. 
 When, breathing fury for her sake. 
 Some new Arminius shall awake. 
 Her champion, ere he strike, shall come 
 To whet his sword on Brunswick's tomb. 
 
 " Or of the Red- Cross hero teach. 
 Dauntless in dungeon as on breach : 
 Alike to him the sea, the shore. 
 The brand, the bridle, or the oar : 
 Alike to him the war that calls 
 Its votaries to the shattered walls 
 
2l6 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 Which the grim Turk, besmeared with blood, 
 Against the Invincible made good; 
 Or that whose thundering voice could wake 
 The silence of the polar lake, 
 When stubborn Russ and metaled Swede 
 On the warped wave their death-game played ; 
 Or that where Vengeance and Affright 
 Howled round the father of the fight, 
 Who snatched on Alexandria's sand 
 The conqueror's wreath with dying hand. 
 
 t. 
 '' Or, if to touch such chord be thine, 
 Restore the ancient tragic hne, 
 And emulate the notes that rung 
 From the wild harp, which silent hung 
 By silver Avon's holy shore, 
 Till twice an hundred years rolled o'er ; 
 When she, the bold enchantress, came, 
 With fearless hand and heart on flame ! 
 From the pale willow snatched the treasure, 
 And swept it with a kindred measure. 
 Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove 
 With Montfort's hate and Basil's love, 
 Awakening at the inspired strain. 
 Deemed their own Shakespeare lived again." 
 
 Thy friendship thus thy judgment wronging 
 With praises not to me belonging, 
 In task more meet for mightiest powers, 
 Wouldst thou engage my thriftless hours. 
 But say, my Erskine, hast thou weighed 
 That secret power by all obeyed, 
 Which warps not less the passive mind. 
 Its source concealed or undefined ; 
 Whether an impulse, that has birth 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD, 217 
 
 Soon as the infant wakes on earth, 
 One with our feehngs and our powers, 
 And rather part of us than oiu-s ; 
 Or whether fither termed the sway 
 Of habit, formed in early day? 
 Howe'er derived, its force confessed 
 Rules with despotic sway the breast, 
 And drags us on by viewless chain. 
 While taste and reason plead in vain. 
 Look east, and ask the Belgian why, 
 Beneath Batavia's sultry sky. 
 He seeks not eager to inhale 
 The freshness of the mountain gale. 
 Content to rear his whitened wall 
 Beside the dank and dull canal ? 
 He'll say, from youth he loved to see 
 The white sail gliding by the tree. 
 Or see yon weather-beaten hind. 
 Whose sluggish herds before him wind. 
 Whose tattered plaid and rugged cheek 
 His northern clime and kindred speak ; 
 Through England's laughing meads he goes, 
 And England's wealth around him flows ; 
 Ask if it would content him well. 
 At ease in those gay plains to dwell. 
 Where hedgerows spread a verdant screen, 
 And spires and forests intervene, 
 And the neat cottage peeps between? 
 No ! not for these will he exchange 
 His dark Lochaber's boundless range ; 
 Not for fair Devon's meads forsake 
 Bennevis gray, and Garry's lake. 
 
 Thus while I ape the measure wild 
 Of tales that charmed me yet a child. 
 
2i8 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Rude though they be, still with the chime 
 
 Return the thoughts of early time ; 
 
 And feelings, roused in life's first day, 
 
 Glow in the line, and prompt the lay. 
 
 Then rise those crags, that mountain tower 
 
 Which charmed my fancy's wakening hour. 
 
 Though no broad river swept along, 
 
 To claim, perchance, heroic song ; 
 
 Though sighed no groves in summer gale, 
 
 To prompt of love a softer tale ; 
 
 Though scarce a puny streamlet's speed 
 
 Claimed homage from a shepherd's reed ; 
 
 Yet was poetic impulse given 
 
 By the green hill and clear blue heaven. 
 
 It was a barren scene, and wild, 
 
 Where naked cliffs were rudely piled ; 
 
 But ever and anon between 
 
 Lay velvet tufts of lovehest green ; 
 
 And well the lonely infant knew 
 
 Recesses where the wall-flower grew, 
 
 And honeysuckle loved to crawl 
 
 Up the low crag and ruined wall. 
 
 I deemed such nooks the sweetest shade 
 
 The sun in all its round surveyed ; 
 
 And still I thought that shattered tower 
 
 The mightiest work of human power, 
 
 And marveled as the aged hind 
 
 With some strange tale bewitched my mind 
 
 Of forayers, who, with headlong force, 
 
 Down from that strength had spurred their horse. 
 
 Their southern rapine to renew. 
 
 Far in the distant Cheviots blue. 
 
 And, home returning, filled the hall 
 
 With revel, wassail rout, and brawl. 
 
 Methought that still with trump and clang 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD, 219 
 
 The gateway's broken arches rang ; 
 
 Methought grim features, seamed with scars, 
 
 Glared through the window's rusty bars, 
 
 And ever, by the winter hearth. 
 
 Old tales I heard of woe or mirth. 
 
 Of lovers' slights, of ladies' charms. 
 
 Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms ; 
 
 Of patriot battles, won of old 
 
 By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; 
 
 Of later fields of feud and fight, 
 
 When, pouring from their Highland height. 
 
 The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, 
 
 Had swept the scarlet ranks away. 
 
 While stretched at length upon the floor, 
 
 Again I fought each combat o'er, 
 
 Pebbles and shells, in order laid, 
 
 The mimic ranks of war displayed ; 
 
 And onward still the Scottish Lion bore. 
 
 And still the scattered Southron fled before. 
 
 Still, with vain fondness, could I trace 
 Anew each kind familiar face 
 That brightened at our evening fire. 
 From the thatched mansion's gray-haired sire, 
 Wise without learning, plain and good, 
 And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood ; 
 Whose eye, in age, quick, clear, and keen. 
 Showed what in youth its glance had been ; 
 Whose doom discording neighbors sought. 
 Content with equity unbought ; 
 To him the venerable Priest, 
 Our frequent and familiar guest. 
 Whose Hfe and manners well could paint 
 Alike the student and the saint ; 
 Alas! whose speech too oft I broke 
 
2 20 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 With gambol rude, and timeless joke : 
 For I was wayward, bold, and wild, 
 A self-willed imp, a grandame's child ; 
 But half a plague, and half a jest, 
 Was still endured, beloved, caressed. 
 
 For me, thus nurtured, dost thou ask 
 The classic poet's well-conned task ? 
 Nay, Erskine, nay — On the wild hill 
 Let the wild heath-bell flourish still ; 
 Cherish the tulip, prune the vine, 
 But freely let the woodbine twine, 
 And leave untrimmed the eglantine : 
 Nay, my friend, nay — Since oft thy praise 
 Hath given fresh vigor to my lays ; 
 Since oft thy judgment could refine 
 My flattened thought or cumbrous line ; 
 Still kind, as is thy wont, attend. 
 And in the minstrel spare the friend. 
 Though wild as cloud, as stream, as gale, 
 Flow forth, flow unrestrained, my Tale! 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 TO JAMES SKENE, Esq. 
 
 Ashes tie I, Ettrick Forest 
 
 AN ancient Minstrel sagely said, 
 '' Where is the hfe which late we led ? " 
 That motley clown in Arden wood. 
 Whom humorous Jacques with envy viewed, 
 Not even that clown could amplify. 
 On this trite text, so long as I. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 221 
 
 Eleven years we now may tell, 
 
 Since we have known each other well ; 
 
 Since, riding side by side, our hand 
 
 First drew the voluntary brand ; 
 
 And sure, through many a varied scene, 
 
 Unkindness never came between. 
 
 Away these winged years have flown. 
 
 To join the mass of ages gone ; 
 
 And though deep marked, like all below, 
 
 With checkered shades of joy and woe ; 
 
 Though thou o'er realms and seas hast ranged, 
 
 Marked cities lost, and empires changed. 
 
 While here at home my narrower ken 
 
 Somewhat of manners saw, and men ; 
 
 Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears 
 
 Fevered the progress of these years ; 
 
 Yet now, days, weeks, and months but seem 
 
 The recollection of a dream, 
 
 So still we glide down to the sea 
 
 Of fathomless eternity. 
 
 Even now it scarcely seems a day, 
 Since first I tuned this idle lay ; 
 A task so often thrown aside, 
 When leisure graver cares denied. 
 That now November's dreary gale, 
 Whose voice inspired my opening tale. 
 That same November gale once more 
 Whirls the dry leaves on Yarrow shore. 
 Their vexed boughs streaming to the sky, 
 Once more our naked birches sigh, 
 And Blackhouse heights and Ettrick Pen 
 Have donned their wintry shrouds again ; 
 And mountain dark, and flooded mead, 
 Bid us forsake the banks of Tweed. 
 
2 2-2 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 Earlier than wont along the sky, 
 Mixed with the rack, the snow mists fly ; 
 The shepherd who, in summer sun. 
 Had something of our envy won, 
 As thou with pencil, I with pen, 
 The features traced of hill and glen ; — 
 He who, outstretched the livelong day, 
 At ease among the heath-flowers lay. 
 Viewed the light clouds with vacant look, 
 Or slumbered o^er his tattered book. 
 Or idly busied him to guide 
 His angle o'er the lessened tide ; — 
 At midnight now, the snowy plain 
 Finds sterner labor for the swain. 
 
 When red hath set the beamless sun, 
 Through heavy vapors dark and dun ; 
 When the tired plowman, dry and warm, 
 Hears, half asleep, the rising storm 
 Hurling the hail and sleeted rain 
 Against the casement's tinkling pane ; 
 The sounds that drive wild deer and fox 
 To shelter in the brake and rocks 
 Are warnings which the shepherd ask 
 To dismal and to dangerous task. 
 Oft he looks forth, and hopes, in vain, 
 The blast may sink in mellowing rain ; 
 Till, dark above, and white below. 
 Decided drives the flaky snow, 
 And forth the hardy swain must go. 
 Long, with dejected look and whine. 
 To leave the hearth his dogs repine ; 
 W^histling and cheering them to aid, 
 Around his back he wreathes the plaid : 
 His flock he gathers, and he guides. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 To open downs, and mountain sides, 
 
 Where fiercest though the tempest blow, 
 
 Least deeply hes the drift below. 
 
 The blast that whistles o'er the fells 
 
 Stiffens his locks to icicles ; 
 
 Oft he looks back, while, streaming far, 
 
 His cottage window seems a star, — 
 
 Loses its feeble gleam, — and then 
 
 Turns patient to the blast again, 
 
 And, facing to the tempest's sweep. 
 
 Drives through the gloom his lagging sheep. 
 
 If fails his heart, if his limbs fail, 
 
 Benumbing death is in the gale : 
 
 His paths, his landmarks, all unknown, 
 
 Close to the hut, no more his own. 
 
 Close to the aid he sought in vain. 
 
 The morn may find the stiffened swain : 
 
 The widow sees, at dawning pale. 
 
 His orphans raise their feeble wail ; 
 
 And, close beside him, in the snow, 
 
 Poor Yarrow, partner of their woe, 
 
 Couches upon his master's breast, 
 
 And Ucks his cheek to break his rest. 
 
 Who envies now the shepherd's lot. 
 His healthy fare, his rural cot. 
 His summer couch by greenwood tree, 
 His rustic kirn's loud revelry, 
 His native-hill notes, tuned on high. 
 To Marion of the bhthesome eye. 
 His crook, his scrip, his oaten reed. 
 And all Arcadia's golden creed ? 
 
 Changes not so with us, my Skene, 
 Of human life the varying scene ? 
 
2 24 ^/^ WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Our youthful summer oft we see 
 
 Dance by on wings of game and glee, 
 
 While the dark storm reserves its rage 
 
 Against the winter of our age : 
 
 As he, the ancient chief of Troy, 
 
 His manhood spent in peace and joy ; 
 
 But Grecian fires and loud alarms 
 
 Called ancient Priam forth to arms. 
 
 Then happy those, since each must drain 
 
 His share of pleasure, share of pain, — 
 
 Then happy those, beloved of Heaven, 
 
 To whom the mingled cup is given ; 
 
 Whose lenient sorrows find relief, 
 
 Whose joys are chastened by their grief. 
 
 And such a lot, my Skene, was thine. 
 
 When thou of late wert doomed to twine — = 
 
 Just when thy bridal hour was by — 
 
 The cypress with the myrtle tie. 
 
 Just on thy bride her sire had smiled, » 
 
 And blessed the union of his child. 
 
 When love must change its joyous cheer, 
 
 And wipe affection's filial tear. 
 
 Nor did the actions next his end 
 
 Speak more the father than the friend : 
 
 Scarce had lamented Forbes paid 
 
 The tribute to his minstrel's shade. 
 
 The tale of friendship scarce was told, 
 
 Ere the narrator's heart was cold — 
 
 Far may we search before we find 
 
 A heart so manly and so kind! 
 
 But not around his honored urn 
 
 Shall friends alone and kindred mourn ; 
 
 The thousand eyes his care had dried 
 
 Pour at his name a bitter tide, 
 
 And frequent falls the grateful dew 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH. 225 
 
 For benefits the world ne'er knew. 
 If mortal charity dare claim 
 The Almighty's attributed name, 
 Inscribe above his moldering clay, 
 '' The widow's shield, the orphan's stay." 
 Nor, though it wake thy sorrow, deem 
 My verse intrudes on this sad theme ; 
 For sacred was the pen that wrote, 
 *' Thy father's friend forget thou not ; " 
 And grateful title may I plead. 
 For many a kindly word and deed, 
 To bring my tribute to his grave : — 
 'Tis little — but 'tis all I have. 
 
 To thee, perchance, this rambling strain 
 Recalls our summer walks again ; 
 When, doing naught, — and, to speak true, 
 Not anxious to find aught to do, — 
 The wild unbounded hills we ranged, 
 While oft our talk its topic changed, 
 And, desultory as our way, 
 Ranged unconfined from grave to gay. 
 Even when it flagged, as oft will chance, 
 No effort made to break its trance. 
 We could right pleasantly pursue 
 Our sports in social silence too ; 
 Thou gravely laboring to portray 
 The blighted oak*s fantastic spray, 
 I spelling o'er with much delight 
 The legend of that antique knight, 
 Tirante by name, ycleped the White. 
 At either's feet a trusty squire, 
 Pandour and Camp, with eyes of fire. 
 Jealous, each other's motions viewed. 
 And scarce suppressed their ancient feud. 
 
226 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 The laverock whistled from the cloud ; 
 The stream was Hvely, but not loud ; 
 From the white thorn the May-flower shed 
 Its dewy fragrance round our head : 
 Not Ariel lived more merrily 
 Under the blossomed bough than we. 
 
 And bhthesome nights, too, have been ours, 
 When Winter stripped the summer's bowers. 
 Careless we heard, what now I hear, 
 The wild blast sighing deep and drear, 
 When fires were bright, and lamps beamed gay, 
 And ladies tuned the lovely lay, 
 And he was held a laggard soul 
 Who shunned to quaff the sparkling bowl. 
 Then he whose absence we deplore. 
 Who breathes the gales of Devon's shore, 
 The longer missed, bewailed the more ; 
 And thou, and I, and dear-loved Rae, 
 And one whose name I may not say, — 
 For not mimosa's tender tree 
 Shrinks sooner from the touch than he, — 
 In merry chorus well combined. 
 With laughter drowned the whistling wind. 
 Mirth was within, and Care without 
 Might gnaw her nails to hear our shout. 
 Not but amid the buxom scene j 
 
 Some grave discourse might intervene — % 
 
 Of the good horse that bore him best. 
 His shoulder, hoof, and arching crest ; 
 For, like mad Tom's, our chiefest care 
 Was horse to ride, and weapon wear. 
 Such nights we've had ; and though the game 
 Of manhood be more sober tame, 
 And though the field-day or the drill 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 227 
 
 Seem less important now, — yet still 
 Such may we hope to share again. 
 The sprightly thought inspires my strain! 
 And mark, how, like a horseman true. 
 Lord Marmion's march I thus renew. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 TO GEORGE ELLIS, Esq. 
 
 Edinburgh, 
 
 WHEN dark December glooms the day, 
 And takes our autumn joys away; 
 When short and scant the sunbeam throws 
 Upon the weary waste of snows 
 A cold and profitless regard. 
 Like patron on a needy bard ; 
 When silvan occupation's done, 
 And o'er the chimney rests the gun, 
 And hang in idle trophy near. 
 The game pouch, fishing rod, and spear ; 
 When wiry terrier, rough and grim. 
 And greyhound, with his length of limb. 
 And pointer, now employed no more, 
 Cumber our parlor's narrow floor; 
 When in his stall the impatient steed 
 Is long condemned to rest and feed ; 
 When from our snow-encircled home 
 Scarce cares the hardiest step to roam, 
 Since path is none, save that to bring 
 The needful water from the spring ; 
 When wrinkled news-page, thrice conned o'er, 
 Beguiles the dreary hour no more. 
 And darkling politician, crossed, 
 
228 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Inveighs against the lingering post, 
 And answering housewife sore complains 
 Of carriers' snow-impeded wains ; — 
 When such the country cheer, I come, 
 Well pleased, to seek our city home ; 
 For converse and for books to change 
 The Forest's melancholy range. 
 And welcome with renewed delight 
 The busy day and social night. 
 
 Not here need my desponding rhyme 
 Lament the ravages of time. 
 As erst by Newark's riven towers. 
 And Ettrick stripped of forest bowers. 
 True, Caledonia's Queen is changed 
 Since on her dusky summit ranged, 
 Within its steepy limits pent 
 By bulwark, line, and battlement, 
 And flanking towers, and laky flood, 
 Guarded and garrisoned she stood, 
 Denying entrance or resort 
 Save at each tall embattled port. 
 Above whose arch, suspended, hung 
 PortculKs spiked with iron prong. 
 That long is gone, — but not so long, 
 Since, early closed, and opening late. 
 Jealous revolved the studded gate. 
 Whose task, from eve to morning tide, 
 A wicket churlishly supplied. 
 Stem then, and steel-girt, was thy brow, 
 Dun-Edin! Oh, how altered now. 
 When safe amid thy mountain court 
 Thou sitt'st, like empress at her sport. 
 And liberal, unconfined, and free. 
 Flinging thy white arms to the sea, 
 
k 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH, 229 
 
 For thy dark cloud, with umbered lower, 
 That hung o'er cliff and lake and tower, 
 Thou gleam'st against the western ray 
 Ten thousand Hnes of brighter day ! 
 
 Not she, the championess of old. 
 In Spenser's magic tale enrolled. 
 She for the charmed spear renowned, 
 Which forced each knight to kiss the ground, — 
 Not she more changed, when, placed at rest. 
 What time she was Malbecco's guest, 
 She gave to flow her maiden vest ; 
 When from the corselet's gi*asp relieved, 
 Free to the sight her bosom heaved ; 
 Sweet was her blue eye's modest smile, 
 Erst hidden by the aventayle ; 
 And down her shoulders graceful rolled 
 Her locks profuse, of paly gold. 
 They who whilom, in midnight fight, 
 Had marveled at her matchless might, 
 No less her maiden charms approved. 
 But looking liked, and liking loved. 
 The sight could jealous pangs beguile. 
 And charm Malbecco's cares awhile ; 
 And he, the wandering Squire of Dames, 
 Forgot his Columbella's claims. 
 And passion, erst unknown, could gain 
 The breast of blunt Sir Satyrane ; 
 Nor durst light Paridel advance. 
 Bold as he was, a looser glance. 
 She charmed, at once, and tamed the heart, 
 Incomparable Britomarte! 
 
 So thou, fair City! disarrayed 
 Of battled wall and rampart's aid. 
 
230 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 •As Stately seem'st, but lovelier far 
 
 Than in that panoply of war. 
 
 Nor deem that from thy fenceless throne 
 
 Strength and security are flown ; 
 
 Still as of yore, Queen of the North! 
 
 Still canst thou send thy children forth. 
 
 Ne'er readier at alarm bell's call 
 
 Thy burghers rose to man thy wall 
 
 Than now, in danger, shall be thine, 
 
 Thy dauntless voluntary hne ; 
 
 For fosse and turret proud to stand. 
 
 Their breasts the bulwarks of the land. 
 
 Thy thousands, trained to martial toil, 
 
 Full red would stain their native soil, 
 
 Ere from thy min-al crown there fell 
 
 The slightest knosp or pinnacle. 
 
 And if it come, — as come it may, 
 
 Dun-Edin! that eventful day, — 
 
 Renowned for hospitable deed, 
 
 That virtue much with Heaven may plead, 
 
 In patriarchal times whose care 
 
 Descending angels deigned to share ; 
 
 That claim may wrestle blessings down 
 
 On those who fight for The Good Town, 
 
 Destined in every age to be 
 
 Refuge of injured royalty ; 
 
 Since first, when conquering York arose. 
 
 To Henry meek she gave repose, 
 
 Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe, ' 
 
 Great Bourbon's rehcs sad she saw. 
 
 Truce to these thoughts ! — for, as they rise, 
 How gladly I avert mine eyes, 
 Bodings, or true or false, to change 
 For Fiction's fair romantic range, 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH, 231 
 
 Or for Tradition's dubious light, 
 That hovers 'twixt the day and night : 
 DazzUng alternately and dim, 
 Her wavering lamp I'd rather trim. 
 Knights, squires, and lovely dames to see, 
 Creation of my fantasy. 
 Than gaze abroad on reeky fen, 
 And make of mists invading men. — 
 Who loves not more the night of June 
 Than dull December's gloomy noon ? 
 The moonlight than the fog of frost ? 
 But can we say which cheats the most ? 
 
 But who shall teach my harp to gain 
 A sound of the romantic strain 
 Whose Anglo-Norman tones whilere 
 Could win the royal Henry's ear, 
 Famed Beauclerk called, for that he loved 
 The minstrel, and his lay approved ? 
 Who shall these lingering notes redeem, 
 Decaying on Oblivion's stream ; 
 Such notes as from the Breton tongue 
 Marie translated, Blondel sung? — 
 Oh! born, Time's ravage to repair, 
 And make the dying Muse thy care ; 
 Who, when his scythe her hoary foe 
 Was poising for the final blow. 
 The weapon from his hand could wring, 
 And break his glass, and shear his wing, 
 And bid, reviving in his strain. 
 The gentle poet live again ; 
 Thou, who canst give to lightest lay 
 An unpedantic moral gay. 
 Nor less the dullest theme bid flit 
 On wings of unexpected wit ; 
 
232 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 In letters as in life approved, 
 Example honored, and beloved, — 
 Dear Ellis! to the bard impart 
 A lesson of thy magic art. 
 To win at once the head and heart, — 
 At once to charm, instruct, and mend, 
 My guide, my pattern, and my friend! 
 
 Such minstrel lesson to bestow 
 Be long thy pleasing task, — but, oh! 
 No more by thy example teach — 
 What few can practice, all can preach — 
 With even patience to endure 
 Lingering disease and painful cure. 
 And boast affliction's pangs subdued 
 By mild and manly fortitude. 
 Enough, the lesson has been given : 
 Forbid the repetition. Heaven! 
 
 Come hsten, then! for thou hast known 
 And loved the Minstrel's varying tone, 
 Who, like his Border sires of old, 
 Waked a wild measure rude and bold. 
 Till Windsor's oaks and Ascot plain 
 With wonder heard the northern strain. 
 Come listen! bold in thy applause. 
 The bard shall scorn pedantic laws ; 
 And, as the ancient art could stain 
 Achievements on the storied pane, 
 Irregularly traced and planned. 
 But yet so glowing and so grand. 
 So shall he strive, in changeful hue. 
 Field, feast, and combat to renew. 
 And loves, and arms, and harpers' glee. 
 And all the pomp of chivalry. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 233 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 TO RICHARD HEBER, Esq. 
 
 Mertoun House^ Christmas. 
 
 HEAP on more wood! — the wind is chill; 
 But let it whistle as it will, 
 We'll keep our Christmas merry still. 
 Each age has deemed the newborn year 
 The fittest time for festal cheer: 
 Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane 
 At lol more deep the mead did drain ; 
 High on the beach his galleys drew, 
 And feasted all his pirate crew ; 
 Then in his low and pine-built hall, 
 Where shields and axes decked the wall, 
 They gorged upon the half-dressed steer ; 
 Caroused in seas of sable beer ; 
 While round in brutal jest were thrown 
 The half-gnawed rib, and marrowbone, 
 Or listened all in grim delight 
 While scalds yelled out the joys of fight. 
 Then forth in frenzy would they hie. 
 While wildly loose their red locks fly. 
 And dancing round the blazing pile, 
 They make such barbarous mirth the while 
 • As best might to the mind recall 
 The boisterous joys of Odin's hall. 
 
 And well our Christian sires of old 
 Loved when the year its course had rolled, 
 
234 SI/^ WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 And brought blithe Christmas back again, 
 
 With all his hospitable train. 
 
 Domestic and religious rite 
 
 Gave honor to the holy night ; 
 
 On Christmas Eve the bells were rung, 
 
 On Christmas Eve the mass was sung : 
 
 That only night in all the year 
 
 Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear. 
 
 The damsel donned her kirtle sheen ; 
 
 The hall was dressed with holly green ; 
 
 Forth to the wood did merrymen go, 
 
 To gather in the mistletoe. 
 
 Then opened wide the baron's hall 
 
 To vassal, tenant, serf, and all ; 
 
 Power laid his rod of rule aside, 
 
 And Ceremony doffed his pride. 
 
 The heir, with roses in his shoes, 
 
 That night might village partner choose ; 
 
 The lord, underogating, share 
 
 The vulgar game of '' post and pair." 
 
 All hailed with uncontrolled delight 
 
 And general voice the happy night. 
 
 That to the cottage, as the crown. 
 
 Brought tidings of salvation down. 
 
 The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, 
 Went roaring up the chimney wide ; 
 The huge hall-table's oaken face. 
 Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace, 
 Bore then upon its massive board 
 No mark to part the squire and lord. 
 Then was brought in the lusty brawn 
 By old blue-coated serving man ; 
 Then the grim boar's head frowned on high, 
 Crested with bays and rosemary. 
 
IKTRODUCTIOy TO CANTO SIXTH, 235 
 
 Well can the green-garbed ranger tell 
 
 How, when, and where the monster fell; 
 
 What dogs before his death he tore, 
 
 And all the baiting of the boar. 
 
 The wassail round, in good brown bowls 
 
 Garnished with ribbons, blithely trowls. 
 
 There the huge sirloin reeked ; hard by 
 
 Plum porridge stood, and Christmas pie ; 
 
 Nor failed old Scotland to produce 
 
 At such high tide her savory goose. 
 
 Then came the merry maskers in, 
 
 And carols roared with blithesome din ; 
 
 If unmelodious was the song, 
 
 It was a hearty note, and strong. 
 
 Who lists may in their mumming see 
 
 Traces of ancient mystery ; 
 
 White shirts supphed the masquerade, 
 
 And smutted cheeks the visors made ; 
 
 But, oh! what maskers, richly dight, 
 
 Can boast of bosoms half so light ! 
 
 England was merry England when 
 
 Old Christmas brought his sports again. 
 
 'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale ; 
 
 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; 
 
 A Christmas gambol oft could cheer 
 
 The poor man's heart through half the year. 
 
 Still linger in our northern clime 
 Some remnants of the good old time ; 
 And still within our valleys here 
 We hold the kindred title dear. 
 Even when, perchance, its farfetched claim 
 To Southron ear sounds empty name ; 
 For course of blood, our proverbs deem, 
 Is warmer than the mountain stream. 
 
236 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 And thus my Christmas still I hold 
 Where my great-grandsire came of old, 
 With amber beard and flaxen hair 
 And reverend apostohc air, 
 The feast and holytide to share, 
 And mix sobriety with wine, 
 And honest mirth with thoughts divine : 
 Small thought was his, in after time 
 E'er to be hitched into a rhyme. 
 The simple sire could only boast 
 That he was loyal to his cost, 
 The banished race of kings revered. 
 And lost his land,^ — but kept his beard. 
 
 In these dear halls, where welcome kind 
 Is with fair liberty combined. 
 Where cordial friendship gives the hand. 
 And flies constraint the magic wand 
 Of the fair dame that rules the land, 
 Little we heed the tempest drear, 
 While music, mirth, and social cheer 
 Speed on their wings the passing year. 
 And Mertoun's halls are fair e'en now. 
 When not a leaf is on the bough. 
 Tweed loves them well, and turns again, 
 As loath to leave the sweet domain. 
 And holds his mirror to her face, 
 And clips her with a close embrace : — 
 Gladly as he we seek the dome, 
 And as reluctant turn us home. 
 
 How just that at this time of glee 
 My thoughts should, Heber, turn to thee! 
 For many a merry hour we've known, 
 And heard the chimes of midnight's tone. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 237 
 
 Cease, then, my friend! a moment cease, 
 And leave these classic tomes in peace! 
 Of Roman and of Grecian lore 
 Sure mortal brain can hold no more. 
 These ancients, as Noll Bluff might say, 
 '* Were pretty fellows in their day ; " 
 But time and tide o'er all prevail — 
 On Christmas Eve a Christmas tale — 
 Of wonder and of war — '^ Profane ! 
 What! leave the lofty Latian strain. 
 Her stately prose, her verse's charms, 
 To hear the clash of rusty arms : 
 In Fairyland or Limbo lost. 
 To jostle conjurer and ghost, 
 Goblin and witch!" — Nay, Heber dear, 
 Before you touch my charter, hear ; 
 Though Leyden aids, alas! no more, 
 My cause with many-languaged lore, 
 This may I say: — in realms of death 
 Ulysses meets Alcides' wraith; 
 ^neas, upon Thracia's shore, 
 The ghost of murdered Polydore ; 
 For omens, we in Livy cross. 
 At every turn, locutus Bos, 
 As grave and duly speaks that ox 
 As if he told the price of stocks. 
 Or held, in Rome republican. 
 The place of Common-councilman. 
 
 All nations have their omens drear, 
 Their legends wild of woe and fear. 
 To Cambria look — the peasant see, 
 Bethink him of Glendowerdy, 
 And shun '' the Spirit's Blasted Tree." 
 The Highlander, whose red claymore 
 
238 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 The battle turned on Maida's shore, 
 
 Will on a Friday morn look pale, 
 
 If asked to tell a fairy tale : 
 
 He fears the vengeful Elfin King, 
 
 Who leaves that day his grassy ring : 
 
 Invisible to human ken, 
 
 He walks among the sons of men. 
 
 Didst e'er, dear Heber, pass along 
 Beneath the towers of Franchemont, 
 Which, like an eagle's nest in air, 
 Hang o'er the stream and hamlet fair? 
 Deep in their vaults, the peasants say, 
 A mighty treasure buried lay, 
 Amassed through rapine and through wrong 
 By the last Lord of Franchemont. 
 The iron chest is bolted hard, 
 A huntsman sits, its constant guard ; 
 Around his neck his horn is hung. 
 His hanger in his belt is slung ; 
 Before his feet his bloodhounds lie : 
 And, 'twere not for his gloomy eye. 
 Whose withering glance no heart can brook, 
 As true a huntsman doth he look 
 As bugle e'er in brake did sound. 
 Or ever hallooed to a hound. 
 To chase the fiend and win the prize 
 In that same dungeon ever tries 
 An aged necromantic priest ; 
 It is an hundred years at least 
 Since 'twixt them first the strife begun, 
 And neither yet has lost nor won. 
 And oft the conjurer's words will make 
 The stubborn demon groan and quake ; 
 And oft the bands of iron break, 
 
INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 239 
 
 Or bursts one lock, that still amain, 
 Fast as 'tis opened, shuts again. 
 That magic strife within the tomb 
 May last until the day of doom, 
 Unless the adept shall learn to tell 
 The very word that clinched the spell 
 When Franch'mont locked the treasure cell. 
 An hundred years are passed and gone, 
 And scarce three letters has he won. 
 
 Such general superstition may 
 Excuse for old Pitscottie say, 
 Whose gossip history has given 
 My song the messenger from heaven 
 That warned, in Lithgow, Scotland's King, 
 Nor less the infernal summoning ; 
 May pass the Monk of Durham's tale. 
 Whose demon fought in Gothic mail ; 
 May pardon plead for Fordun grave, 
 Who told of Gifford's Goblin- Cave. 
 But why such instances to you, 
 Who in an instant can renew 
 Your treasured hoards of various lore, 
 And furnish twenty thousand more? 
 Hoards, not like theirs whose volumes rest 
 Like treasures in the Franch'mont chest. 
 While gripple owners still refuse 
 To others what they cannot use ; 
 Give them the priest's whole century, 
 They shall not spell you letters three ; 
 Their pleasure in the books the same 
 The magpie takes in pilfered gem. 
 Thy volumes, open as thy heart. 
 Delight, amusement, science, art. 
 To every ear and eye impart ; 
 
240 SIR WALTER SCOTT, 
 
 Yet who, of all who thus employ them, 
 Can like the owner's self enjoy them ? — 
 But, hark! I hear the distant drum! 
 The day of Flodden Field is come. — 
 Adieu, dear Heber! life and health, 
 And store of literary wealth! 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 Angel. An English gold coin worth 
 about half a pound, or $2.50. The 
 name came from a representation, 
 on one face, of the Archangel Mi- 
 chael overcoming a dragon. 
 
 Argent. (A term of heraldry.) Sil- 
 ver. 
 
 Ascension Day. Thursday, the for- 
 tieth day after Easter. It is observed 
 as the day of Christ's ascension. 
 
 AvES. Prayers addressed to the Vir- 
 gin* Mary, beginning with the Latin 
 yfiox^^ Ave Maria (''Hail, Mary"). 
 
 Azure. (A term of heraldry. ) Blue. 
 
 Baldric. A fancy belt worn over 
 either shoulder, crossing the body 
 diagonally to the waist or below 
 it, and frequently suspending a 
 sword. 
 
 Bandrol or banderole. A small 
 streamer or flag attached to a lance 
 near its head. 
 
 B ARTISAN. A small overhanging tur- 
 ret projecting from an angle of a 
 building. 
 
 Basnet. A light helmet, often with- 
 out a visor, but in later times more 
 frequently possessing one. 
 
 Bastion. A V-shaped work project- 
 ing outward from the main wall of 
 a rampart. 
 
 Beads. The string of beads called 
 by Roman Catholics a ** rosary," 
 and used for counting prayers. 
 
 Beadsman. A man hired to pray, es- 
 pecially for some person. 
 
 Bent. A slope, as of a hill. 
 
 Bill. A long-handled infantry wea- 
 pon of the fourteenth and fifteenth 
 centuries. It was similar to the 
 halberd, but less complicated. 
 
 Blackcock. A kind of grouse com- 
 mon in Europe. 
 
 Bonnet. A kind of cap worn by 
 men in Scotland. It was made of 
 thick seamless woolen stuff, soft 
 and very durable. 
 
 Borderer. One living near the 
 Border between Scotland and Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Bower. A chamber. 
 
 Bowls. A game played with balls 
 on a level lawn, similar to the game 
 of tenpins. 
 
 Bow^YER. (Literally, bowyer, like 
 lawyer and sawyer.) A soldier 
 armed with bows and arrows ; an 
 archer. 
 
 Brake. A thicket. 
 
 Breviary. A book containing, in 
 an abridged form, the daily prayers 
 of the Roman Catholic or Greek 
 Church. * 
 
 Brigantine. a coat of mail made 
 of iron rings sewed into cloth. 
 
 Broom, A low prickly shrub. 
 
 Buckler. A small shield, worn on 
 the arm, for warding off blows. 
 
 16 
 
 241 
 
242 
 
 GLOSSARY, 
 
 Budget. A bag or sack carried by 
 travelers. 
 
 Burgher. An inhabitant of a bor- 
 ough or town. 
 
 Buskins. Boots tied just below the 
 knee. 
 
 Cap of maintenance. A cap made 
 of scarlet velvet trimmed with er- 
 mine. Originally it was worn by 
 the king-at-arms, but later w^as car- 
 ried before the sovereigns of Eng- 
 land at their coronation. 
 
 Carpet knight, i. A knight who 
 shunned the hardships of the camp. 
 2. One knighted for some service 
 other than military. 
 
 Cell. A small monastery or hermit- 
 cell. 
 
 Chapelle. a chapel ; a recess with 
 an altar, in an aisle of a church, 
 usually dedicated to the Virgin or 
 to some saint. 
 
 Chaplet. a string of beads upon 
 which Roman Catholics count their 
 prayers. Strictly speaking, it i§ a 
 third of a rosary, or fifty beads. 
 
 Cheat. Escheat ; penalty ; forfeiture. 
 
 Check at. A term of falconry, used 
 to designate the flight of the falcon 
 when it left the pursuit of game to 
 follow some other object. 
 
 Chief. (A term of heraldry.) The 
 upper portion of a shield, separated 
 from the rest by a horizontal line. 
 
 Cincture. A belt. 
 
 Clerk. A scholar. 
 
 Cloister. Covered or inclosed walks 
 about the inner court of a monas- 
 tery, or other building of religious 
 character. 
 
 Cloth-yard shaft. An arrow a : 
 little over a yard long. 
 
 Cognizance. An older form of the 
 crest. It was worn by the knight 
 and his followers as a distinguish- 
 ing token. In a more general sense 
 it is any badge worn by retainers 
 or dependants to show to whom or 
 to what party they belong. 
 
 Combust. A term applied to the 
 moon and planets when their near- 
 ness to the sun renders their light 
 invisible. 
 
 Corselet. Armor which covered the 
 trunk. 
 
 COUCHANT. (A term of heraldry.) 
 In a reclining posture. 
 
 Creed. A profession of faith begin- 
 ning with the Latin word credo ("I 
 believe "). 
 
 Cresset. An iron frame to hold 
 combustibles for light. 
 
 Crest. The distinguishing mark or 
 token of a knight, worn by himself 
 and his servants. It was placed 
 above the shield in the coat of arms 
 or was used alone. 
 
 Crosier. The staff carried by a bish- 
 op. Used to signify the power of 
 the Roman Catholic Church. 
 
 Croupe. The part of a horse's back 
 behind the saddle. 
 
 Curvet. A leap of a horse in which 
 the forelegs are raised, and then, 
 while these are falling, the hindlegs 
 are lifted, so that all feet are in the 
 air at once. 
 
 Daw. a bird of the crow species, 
 found in Europe; a jackdaw; meta- 
 phorical for a stupid fellow. g 
 
 Deas. Dais ; a raised platform on 1 
 which a lord, with his family and 
 guests, sat. 
 
 Demivolt. a movement of a horse 
 
 i 
 
GLOSSARY, 
 
 24S 
 
 in which it makes a partial turn, 
 with its front feet in the air. 
 
 Device. An emblematic design with 
 a motto. 
 
 Donjon. The strongest part of a 
 castle, often separated from the rest 
 of the structure. It contained the 
 prison: hence our word ** dun- 
 geon " (a prison). Also called a 
 ** keep " or a *' donjon keep." 
 
 Doublet. A close-fitting garment 
 for men, extending from the neck 
 to a little below the waist. 
 
 Down. i. A sandy elevation thrown 
 up along a shore by the wind. 2. 
 A hill rather flat on top. 
 
 Drawbridge. A bridge over the 
 ditch surrounding a castle. One 
 end of it was drawn up in time of 
 peril. 
 
 Dub. To confer the order of knight- 
 hood by striking the candidate on 
 the shoulder with the flat of the 
 sword. 
 
 Eke. Also. 
 
 Embrasure. An opening in a wall 
 or parapet for firing guns. 
 
 Errant-knight. Knight-errant; a 
 knight who traveled in search of 
 adventure. 
 
 Falcon. A bird of the hawk species, 
 trained to hunt game. 
 
 Fane. (Latin, ya/^z/w.) A place con- 
 secrated to religion ; a church, tem- 
 ple, monastery, or convent. 
 
 Featly. Dexterously. 
 
 Fell. High land, rocky and barren. 
 
 Field. (A term of heraldry. ) The 
 ground of a shield. 
 
 Forayers. Those who make forays ; 
 plunderers. 
 
 Fosse. A ditch ; a moat. 
 
 Friar. A monk, especially one of 
 the four orders, — Franciscans, 
 Augustines, Dominicans, Carmel- 
 ites. 
 
 Frontlet. A fillet or band worn 
 on the forehead. 
 
 Gallery. A corridor or passage- 
 way. 
 
 Galley. A war vessel driven by oars 
 and. sails. 
 
 Galliard. a quick, brisk dance. 
 
 Gammon. The thigh of a hog salted, 
 and smoked or dried. 
 
 Gauntlet. A large glove having 
 plates of metal on the back. 
 
 Gentles. (A term of address..) Sirs ; 
 gentlemen. 
 
 Gorget. Armor to protect the 
 neck. 
 
 Gorse. a prickly evergreen shrub 
 with yellow flowers ; also called 
 furze. 
 
 GuLE. (A term of heraldry. ) Red. 
 
 Hackbut, hagbut, harquebus. A 
 kind of heavy firearm. 
 
 Halberd. A long-handled weapon, 
 the head of which was a combina- 
 tion of spear and battle-ax. 
 
 Hold. A fortress ; a stronghold. 
 
 Horse-boy. A page on horseback. 
 
 Horse courser. A horse dealer, 
 especially one interested in racing 
 horses ; a horse speeder. 
 
 Hosen. Close-fitting breeches reach- 
 ing to the knees. 
 
 Housing. A cloth covering for a 
 horse, usually decorated. 
 
 Keep. A stronghold or donjon. See 
 Donjon. 
 
 Ken. To know. 
 
 King-at-arms. a chief of heralds. 
 
 Kirtle. a gown. 
 
244 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Leaguer. The camp of a besieging 
 army. 
 
 Leash, i . A thong by which hunt- 
 ing dogs are held. 2. A line used 
 in holding the falcon. 
 
 Lent. A period of forty days' dura- 
 tion, beginning with Ash Wednes- 
 day, and ending at Easter. It is ob- 
 served by fasting in commemoration 
 of Christ's forty days in the wilder- 
 ness. 
 
 L'Envoy. a postscript to a literary 
 production, either recommending it 
 or explaining its character. 
 
 Line. The rampart of a fortifica- 
 tion. 
 
 Linstock. A staff, forked at one 
 end, to hold a lighted coal, used for 
 firing cannon. 
 
 Lists. (From the French, meaning 
 '^ lines.") In English, ground in- 
 closed by the barriers at a tourna- 
 ment. 
 
 LoRDLiNGS. Sirs ; gentlemen. 
 
 Lower ward. The part of a castle 
 ■outside the donjon and central de- 
 fenses. 
 
 Mace. A long metal-headed club. 
 
 Magi. Members of the caste of \ 
 priests, especially among the an- 
 cient Medes and Persians ; also used 
 in Christian history as a term for 
 wise men or sages. 
 
 Mail. Armor made of rings of steel 
 linked together. 
 
 Malison. A form of words express- 
 ing a curse. 
 
 Mark. An old English coin worth 
 about %2>'2>Z' 
 
 Mass. Communion service in the 
 Roman Catholic Church; the eu- 
 charist. 
 
 Massy More. From a Moorish word, 
 Mazmona, meaning ** dungeon.*' 
 The word was frequently used in 
 Scotland. 
 
 Meed. Reward. 
 
 Men at arms. Soldiers completely 
 armed. 
 
 Minion. A favorite. 
 
 Morion. An open helmet, having no 
 beaver or visor. 
 
 Morrice-pike. a Moorish stave. 
 
 Moss. A kind of bog or swamp. 
 
 Mullet. A star figure with five 
 points, representing the rowel or 
 wheel of a spur; an emblem of 
 heraldry. 
 
 Novice. One who has been received 
 into monastic orders on probation, 
 but has taken no vows. 
 
 Or. (A term of heraldry.) Yellow. 
 
 Page. A youth in attendance on a 
 person of rank. 
 
 Paladin. Originally one of the 
 twelve peers of Charlemagne, later 
 used generally for any distinguished 
 champion. 
 
 Palmer. Originally one who had 
 made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land 
 and returned with a palm leaf ; later 
 the name was given to those pil- 
 grims who spent their lives in going 
 from one shrine to another. 
 
 Parapet. A wall or rampart breast- 
 high. 
 
 Pardoner. One authorized by the 
 Pope to grant pardons. 
 
 Pass. (A term in fencing. ) To make 
 a thrust with the sword. 
 
 Pennon. A flag having a swallow- 
 tail form. 
 
 Pensil. a small pennon borne on a 
 lance. 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 245 
 
 Pentacle. a piece of linen inscribed 
 with magical characters, and folded 
 with five corners. The magician 
 extended it towards obstinate spirits 
 to induce obedience. 
 
 Pied. Many-colored. 
 
 Pike. A long staff with a pointed 
 iron tip. 
 
 Pilgrim. One who traveled to the 
 Holy Land, or noted shrines else- 
 where, for the purpose of worship. 
 
 Plaid. A rectangular garment usu- 
 ally made of a checkered material, 
 but sometimes plain gray or gray 
 with black stripes. It is worn by 
 both men and women in Scotland. 
 
 Plate. Armor made by riveting 
 sheets of steel together. 
 
 Portcullis. A heavy grating, made 
 to slide in vertical grooves, and 
 covering the entrance to a castle. 
 
 Pricker. A horseman, so called 
 from the spurs he wore. 
 
 Psaltery. An old-fashioned stringed 
 instrument. 
 
 Ptarmigan. A species of grouse 
 having feathered feet. 
 
 Pursuivant. A man of lower rank 
 than a herald, but having similar 
 duties. The persons of heralds 
 and pursuivants were sacred, and 
 they were th^ acknowledged mes- 
 sengers between hostile powers. 
 
 QuAiGH. A large drinking cup, usu- 
 ally made of wood. 
 
 Quartered. A term of heraldry 
 used to designate the division of a 
 shield into four parts, generally by 
 horizontal and perpendicular lines, 
 and sometimes into more than 
 four. 
 
 Ramped. (A term of heraldry. ) Ram- 
 
 pant ; rising with both forelegs ele- 
 vated, but one above the other. 
 
 Rased. Grazed. 
 
 Retrograde. A term in astronomy, 
 indicating the motion of a planet 
 from east to west. 
 
 Rochet. A linen garment, some- 
 thing like a surplice, worn by the 
 bishops of the Roman Catholic 
 Church. 
 
 Roundelay. A song in which one 
 strain is often repeated. 
 
 Rowel. The small sharp-pointed 
 wheel of a spur. 
 
 Runnel. A small brook; a rivu- 
 let. 
 
 Sable. (A term of heraldry. ) Black. 
 
 Sackbut. a wind instrument, made 
 of brass, and similar to a trombone. 
 
 Safe-conduct. A pass, guide, or 
 other security, enabling one to travel 
 safely in a hostile or foreign coun- 
 try. 
 
 Scaur. A steep bank. 
 
 Scrip. A small bag. 
 
 Scroll, i. A banner bearing a mot- 
 to. 2. A letter folded into a roll. 
 
 Scutcheon. Escutcheon ; a surface, 
 usually that of a shield, on which 
 armorial devices were arranged, ac- 
 cording to the laws of heraldry. 
 
 Sea dog. A kind of seal. 
 
 Sea mew. A gull. 
 
 Seneschal. Originally a domestic 
 officer in houses of rank, who had 
 charge of feasts ; a steward. 
 
 Sewer. An upper servant in a castle. 
 
 Shaw. A copse ; a thicket. 
 
 Shred. To sever. 
 
 Sire. Lord; master (an old mean- 
 ing of the word). 
 
 Siren. An enchantress. 
 
246 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 Slogan. A battle cry. Originally 
 the war cry of a Highland clan. 
 
 SoLANDS STORE. Solands stored up; 
 i.e., kinds of geese or gannets, 
 found in Europe and America, 
 called solan. 
 
 Spoiled. Defrauded. 
 
 Spray. A small branch; a twig. 
 
 Squire. An attendant on a knight, 
 usually of noble birth, and himself 
 a candidate for knighthood. 
 
 Stall. A carved seat for dignitaries 
 in the choir of a church. 
 
 Steel- JACK. A jacket having metal 
 rings sewed or quilted into cloth, 
 and worn to protect the body 
 against spear thrusts. 
 
 Stirrup cup. A cup of wine drunk 
 at parting from a guest on horse- 
 back, with feet in the stirrups. 
 
 Stoop. (A term of falconry.) To 
 descend. 
 
 SuMPTER mule, a mule for carry- 
 ing baggage; a pack mule. 
 
 Tabard. A sleeveless coat worn 
 over armor, and emblazoned with 
 the arms of the wearer. In this 
 decorated form it was worn by 
 heralds and pursuivants. 
 
 Tables. Backgammon and draughts 
 or checkers. 
 
 Targe. A round shield of cowhide, 
 studded with nails. 
 
 Traverse. (A technical term in 
 fencing.) To make movements in 
 opposition. 
 
 Tressure. The ornamented border 
 of a shield. 
 
 Trews. Breeches short to the knees, 
 and striped with the clan color. 
 
 Trine. An astrological term applied 
 to planets 120° (the third part of 
 
 the zodiac) apart. It was a favor- 
 able condition. 
 
 Truncheon. A short staff of office. 
 
 Unicorn. An heraldic animal sup- 
 porting the shield on the Scottish 
 coat of arms. It has the head, neck, 
 and body of a horse, the legs of a 
 buck, the tail of a lion, and a long 
 horn projecting from the center of 
 the forehead. 
 
 Varlet. Originally a diminutive of 
 ''vassal," and applied to attend- 
 ants on knights; later, a scoundrel. 
 
 Veil. A part of the costume of a 
 nun, symbolic of her retirement 
 from the world. 
 
 Vestal vow. The vow of perpetual 
 virginity taken by a nun. The word 
 "vestal" is derived from the Vestal 
 Virgins, devotees of the Temple of 
 Vesta in ancient Rome. 
 
 Vicar. In the Roman Catholic 
 Church a parish priest appointed 
 by the bishop to have limited au- 
 thority over a certain district. 
 
 Visor. The part of a helmet which 
 protects the face, and contains 
 openings for seeing and breathing. 
 
 Wand. A staff of authority. 
 
 Wassail bowl. The vessel which 
 held the wassail, — a drink made 
 of wine, ale, sugar, and spices, to 
 which toast and crab apples were 
 added. 
 
 Weeds. Clothes, especially outer 
 garments. 
 
 Wives. Women (a Scottish use of 
 the word). 
 
 Wot. To know. 
 
 Yare. Ready; prompt. 
 
 Yeoman, i. A servant or attendant. 
 2. A small landholder. 
 
QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS, 253 
 
 device is used to bring the palmer leisurely into the story? What is 
 the effect of his introduction in this manner? Are there any sug- 
 gestive incidents laid before us in his introduction? At Berwick, 
 Norham, and other Border fortresses, pursuivants usually resided, 
 whose inviolable character rendered them the only persons that could, 
 with perfect assurance of safety, be sent on necessary Embassies 
 into Scotland ''—(Scott). 
 
 How does Scott appeal to our imagination in telling how far the 
 palmer has traveled? What are the characteristics of the palmer as 
 seen by young Selby? Account for Marmion's not recognizing the 
 palmer. 
 
 What is the theme of this canto? 
 
 Canto II. What is the hnking device between the second canto and 
 the first? Contrast the pictures in the two cantos. What means are 
 used to heighten the interest in the tale in the first part of this canto? 
 What advantage is gained in having the Abbess of noble blood? 
 Note very carefully the detailed sketch of the Abbess that you may 
 imderstand her future acts. Note the use of the word "fair'' in 
 stanzas III and V, and elsewhere in the poem. What are you re- 
 minded of in canto I when you read stanza V? Of what is Sister 
 Clare day-dreaming in stanza VI? Discuss Scott's use of the proper 
 names. . . Are they suggestive? poetical? 
 
 WTiy suppose the "welcome said" and the "banquet made" as 
 written in stanza XII? Do the stories told by the nuns retard the 
 course of the story? Have the stories any interest in themselves 
 aside from the general course of the tale? Do the stories help us in 
 understanding the character of the nuns? 
 
 What is going on in another part of the building at the time these 
 stories are being told? How does it become evident that Constance 
 has been with Marmion? How does Scott characterize Constance in 
 stanza XXI? Do you think this characterization accurate? Note 
 the hterary device of contrast used in stanza XXII. Why does not 
 Scott relate the particulars and details of the trial? 
 
 Summarize the charge of Constance against Marmion. What 
 verse in stanza XXVIII throws the interest forward? What emotion 
 prompts Constance to reveal the shame of Marmion? Does Constance 
 behttle the character of Marmion entirely? Note the effect of the 
 doom as it is reechoed in man and in nature. 
 
254 QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 Contrast the opening and the closing of the canto. What is the 
 theme of this canto? Why does Scott use the place name in five out 
 of six cantos in the poem instead of using a theme heading for the 
 cantos? 
 
 Canto III. What is the connection between this canto and the 
 first canto? Discuss the purpose and the effect of the descriptive 
 nature passage in stanza II and elsewhere in the poem. How is 
 stanza III a characteristic passage? How are stanzas II to VI made 
 particularly picturesque? 
 
 How is the song (stanza X) in keeping with the story? Why should 
 it affect Marmion? What event is taking place at the convent at the 
 time this song is sung? What is your opinion of Marmion as you 
 read stanza XVII? Why does Marmion give ^ license cold'' to 
 "The Host's Tale"? 
 
 Is "The Host's Tale" a mere incident or an integral part of the 
 whole story? Why is the outcome of the King's fight and Marmion's 
 fight left to our imagination? Give a brief sketch of Fitz-Eustace. 
 
 What new characteristics of Marmion do you find in this canto? 
 What advance in the story is made in this canto? 
 
 Canto IV. Accoimt for Lord Marmion's mood at the beginning of 
 the canto. How does the description of Lindesay and his retinue 
 compare with that of Marmion and his followers in canto I? Discuss 
 the refusal to the palmer to leave Marmion's train. 
 
 What change do you note in the language in stanza XI? What is 
 the purpose of the change? Look up the word ^^ apostrophe." " It 
 was natural and fit that Lindesay should be present P^VI) . It is more 
 than likely that he had a leading hand in the enterprise. As tutor to 
 the leading young Prince, it had been a recognized part of his duty to 
 amuse him by various disguises; and he was hkewise the first Scottish 
 poet with an adequate dramatic sense " (Bayne). Why should 
 Marmion's color change while Hstening to the tale? Explain the last 
 part of stanza XVIIL What advantage is made in having Marmion 
 tell the tale of his duel? Why does not Marmion tell whom he fought 
 with? What is Sir David's explanation of the duel? What is the 
 meaning of the moral reflection at the close of stanza XXII? What 
 is the effect of the reflection on Marmion? 
 
 In stanza XXIII Scott makes an almost personal sacrifice m 
 refusing to describe such well known scenes. — 
 
QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS. 255 
 
 "A certain ruggedness and bareness was the essence of Scott's 
 idealism and romance. It was so in relation to scenery. He told 
 Washington Irving that he loved the very nakedness of the Border 
 country. 'It has something' he said, 'bold and stern and soHtary 
 about it. When I have been for some time in the rich scenery about 
 Edinburgh, which is like ornamented gardenland, I begin to wish 
 myself back again among my honest hills, and if I did not see the 
 heather at least once a year, I think I should die.' " — ^Richard H. 
 Hut ton. 
 
 In stanza XXVIII Scott displays his power in giving a broad, 
 general description with a multitude of suggestive details. Read 
 stanza XXX carefully and discuss it in the light of the following 
 criticism : 
 
 "This description of Edinburgh is one of the passages mentioned 
 by Mr. Ruskin, in Modern Painters as illustrative of Scott's quick 
 and certain perception of the relation of form and color. 'Observe' 
 he says, ' the only hints at form given throughout are in the somewhat 
 vague words "ridgy," " massy," "close," and "high," the whole being 
 still more obscured by modern mystery, in its most tangible form of 
 smoke. But the colors are all definite; note the rainbow band of 
 them — gloomy or dusky red, sable (pure black), amethyst (pure pur- 
 ple), green and gold — a noble chord throughout; and then, moved 
 doubtless less by smoky than the amethystine part of the group. 
 
 "Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent," etc' " 
 
 What means does Scott use at the close of this canto to cast a 
 glorious halo on his own beloved land? What progress in the main 
 thread of the story has been made in this canto? Is there anything 
 new revealed in Marmion's character? 
 
 Canto V. What is the theme of stanzas I to V? How are the 
 contrasts in stanzas VIII and XI made vivid? Has the story of King 
 James's loves any points of similarity with Marmion's story? 
 
 The magnificent song "Lochinvar" should be committed to 
 memory. To a very slight degree this ballad is founded on a ballad 
 entitled "Katherine Janfarie." The meter of the ballad is ana- 
 paestic with an iambus usually at the beginning of the line. What is 
 the effect of the movement? How does the movement of the verse 
 harmonize with the action described in the song? Has the song a 
 
2S6 QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS, 
 
 single or a double purpose, that is, does it interest us alone for its own 
 sake or for the sake of the whole story? Why give the particular 
 description of Douglas in stanza XIV? Outline a character sketch 
 of King James. 
 
 What stanza marks a transition in the story? What is the situation 
 in stanza XX that heightens the effect in the story of the Abbess? 
 You should paraphrase the Abbess's story very carefully. Discuss: 
 *^The flatness and tediousness of the narrative [The Abbess's story] 
 is reHeved by no sort of beauty nor elegance of diction, and which 
 form an extraordinary contrast with the more animated and finished 
 portions of the poem." — (Jeffrey in the Edinburgh Review.) How did 
 the papers come into the possession of the Abbess? 
 
 What is the purpose of stanza XXVII? What is Scott's analysis 
 of Marmion's character in XXVIII? Why did not Scott close this 
 canto with stanza XXXIII? 
 
 Canto VI. How does the description of Tantallon prepare the 
 reader for an unusual event that is to take place there? What effect 
 has this description on the emotions of the reader? Make a list of 
 the words that create this eft'ect. Discuss the use and purpose of the 
 short lines in stanza HI. What is gained by Scott's not attempting 
 to describe fully the meeting of Clare and De Wilton? Compare 
 De Wilton's account given in stanza VIII with Marmion's in canto 
 IV, stanzas XIX and XXI. While vou are studying this canto you 
 should read something about the institution of chivalry. 
 
 After you have read the tale of the parting between Douglas and 
 Marmion ask yourself if your opinion of Marmion has changed. Are 
 you still interested in Marmion as a man and not merely in what 
 may happen to him? Do you think that Scott intends to hold our 
 interest in Marmion on the high level that he held it in the first canto? 
 What is Douglas's opinion of Marmion? On this point (stanza XV) 
 it may be well to quote Scott himself: "Lest the reader should partake 
 of the Earl's astonishment and consider the crime as inconsistent 
 with the manners of the period, I have to remind him of the numerous 
 forgeries (partly executed by a female assistant) devised by Robert 
 of Artois, to forward his suit against the Countess Matilda; which, 
 being detected, occasioned his flight into England, and proved the 
 remote cause of Edward the Third's memorable wars in France. 
 John Harding, also, was expressly hired by Edward IV to forge 
 
QUESTIONS, NOTES y AND SUGGESTIONS. 257 
 
 such documents as might appear to establish the claim of fealty 
 asserted over Scotland by the English Monarchs." 
 
 Stanzas XVIII to XXXIV should be read with unusual care. 
 Follow the map carefully and refer to the following notes by Scott, 
 with bracketed stanza references by the editor. 
 
 " On the evening previous to the memorable battle of Flodden, 
 Surrey's headquarters were at Barmoor Wood, and King James held 
 an inaccessible position on the ridge of Flodden Hill, one of the last 
 and lowest eminences detached from the ridge of Cheviot. The Till, 
 a deep and slow river, winded between the armies. On the morning 
 of the 9th September, 1513, Surrey marched in a northwesterly 
 direction, and crossed the Till, with his van and artillery, at Twisel 
 Bridge, nigh where that river joins the Tweed, his rear-guard column 
 passing about a mile higher, by a ford. This movement had the 
 double effect of placing his army between King James and his supplies 
 from Scotland, and of striking the Scottish monarch with surprise, 
 as he seems to have reHed on the depth of the river in his front. But 
 as the passage, both over the bridge and through the ford, was difficult 
 and slow, it seems possible that the EngKsh might have been attacked 
 to great advantage while struggling with these natural obstacles. I 
 know not if we are to impute James's forbearance to want of military 
 skiU, or to the romantic declaration which Pitscottie puts in his 
 mouth, ' that he was determined to have his enemies before him on a 
 plain field,' and therefore would suffer no interruption to be given, 
 even by artillery, to their passing the river." 
 
 "When the English army, by their skillful countermarch, were 
 fairly placed between King James and his own country, the Scottish 
 monarch resolved to fight; and setting fire to his tents, descended from 
 the ridge of Flodden to secure the neighboring eminence of Brank- 
 stone, on which that village is built. The English army advanced in 
 four divisions. On the right, which first engaged, were the sons of 
 Earl Surrey, namely Thomas Howard, the Admiral of England, and 
 Sir Edmund, the Knight Marshal of the army. Their divisions were 
 separated from each other; but, at the request of Sir Edmund, his 
 brother's battalion was drawn very near his own. The center was 
 commanded by Surrey in person; the left wing, by Sir Edward Stanley, 
 with the men of Lancashire, and of the Palatinate of Chester. Lord 
 Dacre, with a large body of horse, formed a reserve. When the smoke 
 
258 QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 which the wind had driven between the armies, [XXV] was somewhat 
 dispersed, they perceived the Scots, who had moved down the hill in 
 a similar order of battle, and in deep silence. The Earl of Himtly 
 and of Home commanded their left wing, and charged Sir Edmund 
 Howard with such success as entirely to defeat his part of the EngHsh 
 right wing [XXVII]. Sir Edmund's banner was beaten down, and he 
 himself escaped with difficulty to his brother's division. The Admiral, 
 however, stood firm; and Dacre [XXIV] advancing to his support 
 with the reserve of cavalry, [XXIX] probably between the interval 
 of the divisions commanded by the brothers Howard, appears to have 
 kept the victors in effectual check. Home's men, chiefly Borderers, 
 began to pillage the baggage of both armies; and their leader is branded 
 by the Scottish historian, with negligence or treachery. On the other 
 hand, Huntly, on whom they bestow many encomiums, is said, by 
 the English historians, to have left the field after the first charge 
 [XXXIII]. Meanwhile the Admiral, whose flank these chiefs ought 
 to have attacked, availed himself of their inactivity, and pushed for- 
 ward against another large division of the Scottish army in his front, 
 headed by the Earls Crawford and Montrose, both of whom were 
 slain, and their forces routed. On the left [XXVII], the success of 
 the EngHsh was yet more decisive; for the Scottish right wing, con- 
 sisting of undisciplined Highlanders, commanded by Lennox and 
 Argyle, was unable to sustain the charge of Sir Edward Stanley, and 
 especially the severe execution of the Lancashire archers [XXIX]. 
 The King and Surrey, who commanded the respective centers of their 
 armies, were meanwhile engaged in close and dubious conflict. James, 
 surrounded by the flower of his kingdom, and impatient of the gaUing 
 discharge of arrows, supported also by his reserve under BothweU, 
 charged with such fury that the standard of Surrey was in danger. At 
 that critical moment, Stanley, [XXXII] who had routed the left wing 
 of the Scottish army, pursued his career of victory, and arrived on the 
 right flank, and in the rear of James's division, which, throwing itself 
 into a circle, disputed the battle till night came on. Surrey then drew 
 back his forces; [XXXIV] for the Scottish center not having been 
 broken, and the left wing victorious, he yet doubted the event of the 
 field. The Scottish army, however, felt their loss, and abandoned the 
 field of battle in disorder, before dawn [XXXIV]. They lost, perhaps, 
 from eight to ten thousand men; but that included the very prime of 
 
QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS. 259 
 
 their nobility, gentry, and even clergy. Scarce a family of eminence 
 but has an ancestor killed at Flodden: and there is no province in 
 Scotland, even at this day, where the battle is mentioned without a 
 sensation of terror and sorrow. The English also lost a great number 
 of men, perhaps within one-third of the vanquished, but they were 
 of inferior note. 
 
 *^The spot from which Clara views the battle must be supposed 
 to have been on a hillock commanding the rear of the English right 
 wing, which was defeated, and in which conflict Marmion is supposed 
 to have fallen" (Scott). 
 
 How is rapidity given to the description of the battle? How is ou* 
 interest suspended? How does Scott's account differ from the prose 
 note given above? Does Scott describe the awfulness of warfare or 
 the glory of it? Discuss the use of "and" in stanza XXVI. Discuss 
 the narrative effect and the emotional effect of having Fitz-Eustace 
 and Blount leave Clare. Do you note any difference in the characters 
 of the two men? Discuss: "The two prominent features of this stanza 
 [XXX] are the sweet tenderness of the verses, and the illustration 
 of the irony of events in the striking culmination of the hero's 
 career" (Bayne). Does Scott close the poem too abruptly? 
 
 The following quotations are taken from an article by Francis 
 Jeffrey in the Edinburgh Review, April, 1808. Read them very 
 carefully and discuss them after you have thoroughly read the 
 poem. 
 
 I. "Now, the whole story of Marmion, seems to us to turn upon 
 a tissue of incredible accidents. In the first place, it was totally 
 beyond aU calculation, that Marmion and De Wilton should meet, by 
 pure chance at Norham, on the only night which 'either of them could 
 spend in that fortress. In the next place, it is almost totally in- 
 credible that the former should not recognize his ancient rival and 
 antagonist, merely because he had assumed a palmer's habit, and 
 lost a Kttle flesh and color in his travels. He appears unhooded, 
 and walks and speaks before him; and, as near as we can guess, it 
 could not be more than a year since they had entered the lists against 
 each other. Constance, at her death, says she had hved but three 
 years with Marmion; and, it was not till he tired of her that he aspired 
 to Clara, or laid plots against De Wilton. It is equally inconceivable 
 that De Wilton should have taken upon himself the friendly office 
 
26o QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS, 
 
 of a guide to his arch enemy, and discharged it quietly and faithfully, 
 without seeking or apparently thinking of any opportunity of dis- 
 closure or revenge. So far from meditating anything of that sort, 
 he makes two several efforts to leave him, when it appears that his 
 services are no longer indispensable. If his accidental meeting, and 
 continued association with Marmion, be altogether unnatural, it 
 must appear still more extraordinary that he should afterwards meet 
 with the Lady Clare, his adored mistress, and the Abbess of Whitby, 
 who had in her pocket the written proofs of his innocence, in con- 
 sequence of an occurrence equally accidental. These two ladies, the 
 dfily two persons in the universe whom it was of any consequence to 
 him to meet, are captured in their voyage from the Holy Isle, and 
 brought to Edinburgh, by the luckiest accident in the world, the very 
 day that De Wilton and Marmion make their entry into it. Nay, 
 the king, without knowing that they are at all of his acquaintance, 
 happens to appoint them lodgings in the same staircase, and to make 
 them travel under his escort! We pass the night combat at Gifford, 
 in which Marmion knows his opponent by moonlight, though he never 
 could guess at him in sunshine; and all the inconsistencies of his 
 dilatory wooing of Lady Clare. Those, and all the prodigies and 
 miracles of the story, we can excuse, as within the privilege of poetry; 
 but, the lucky chances we have already specified, are rather too miuch 
 for our patience. A poet, we think, should never let his heroes con- 
 tract such great debts to fortune; especially when a Httle exertion 
 of his own might make them independent of her bounty. De Wilton 
 might have been made to seek and watch his adversary, from some 
 moody feeling of patient revenge; and it certainly would not have 
 been difficult to discover motives which might have induced Clare 
 and the Abbess to follow and relieve him, without dragging them 
 into his presence by the clumsy hands of a cruiser from Dunbar." 
 2. "For the poor Lady Clare, she is a personage of still greater in- 
 sipidity and insignificance. The author seems to have formed her upon 
 the principle of Mr. Pope's maxim, that women have no character at 
 all. We find her everywhere, where she has no business to be, neither 
 doing anything of the least consequence, but whimpering and sob- 
 bing over the Matrimony in her prayer book, like a great miss from a 
 boarding school; and all this is the more inexcusable, as she is alto- 
 gether a supernumerary person in the play, who should atone for her 
 
QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS. 261 
 
 mtrusion by some brilliancy or novelty of deportment. Matters 
 would have gone on just as well, although she had been left behind 
 at Whitby till after the battle of Flodden; and she is daggled about 
 in the train, first of the Abbess and then of Lord Marmion, for no 
 purpose, that we can see, but to afford the author an opportunity 
 for two or three pages of indifferent description." 
 
 3. "The battle itself, as we have already intimated, is described 
 as it appeared to the two squires of Lord Marmion, who were left 
 on an eminence in the rear, as the guard of Lady Clare : and certainly, 
 of all the poetical battles which have been fought, from the days of 
 Homer to those of Mr. Southey, there is none, in our opinion, at all 
 comparable, for interest and animation, — for breadth of drawing, 
 and magnificence of effect, — with this of Mr. Scott's.'' 
 
 4. "We must beg leave to protest, in the name of a very 
 numerous class of readers, against the insufferable number, and 
 length, and minuteness of those descriptions of ancient dresses and 
 manners, and buildings, and ceremonies, and local superstitions with 
 which the whole poem is overrun, — which render so many notes 
 necessary, and are, after all, but imperfectly understood by those 
 to whom chivalrous antiquity has not hitherto been an object of 
 peculiar attention. We object to these, and to all such details be- 
 cause they are, for the most part, without dignity or interest in 
 themselves; because, in a modern author, they are evidently un- 
 natural; and because they must always be strange, and, in a good 
 degree, obscure and unintelligible to ordinary readers." 
 
 Some General Suggestions and Questions. 
 
 Collect passages describing the personal appearance of the Abbess, 
 Constance, Lady Heron, Lady Clare, Sir David Lindesay, Douglas, 
 King James, The Palmer, Marmion. Collect passages that reveal 
 the character of the persons named. What is the main thread in 
 the story? What are the obstacles that prevent the successful 
 culmination of this theme before the story begins? What are the 
 chief episodes that mark the development of the story? How does 
 each episode help to solve the main theme? What use does Scott 
 make of the supernatural in the poem? Make a list of the best 
 descriptive passages in the poem. What descriptive passages are 
 
262 QUESTIONS, NOTES, AND SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 effective in carrying forth the progress of the story? How is Ma> 
 mion's history revealed to us? Discuss the following criticisms: 
 
 a. "The device of the forged letters is too trivial for such a charac- 
 ter as Marmion/' 
 
 b. ''The account of Sir Hugh's troopers and of Friar John is too 
 undignified for the general tenor of the poem." 
 
 c. ''The Abbess's explanation to De Wilton is the most carelessly 
 written portion of the poem." 
 
 d. "The meeting of Marmion with Sir David Lindesay and their 
 sojourn together at Crichtoun Castle, aside from affording oppor- 
 tunity for a briUiant bit of historical portraiture, serve no other 
 purpose than to enable Marmion to relate what has befallen him in 
 the haunted Hsts" (Moody-Willard). 
 
 e. "The passage devoted to the Scottish court at Holyrood, though 
 it does perhaps contribute to an understanding of the causes under- 
 lying the disastrous battle which forms the finale of the poem, does 
 not advance the story perceptibly" (Moody-Willard). 
 
 How is the meeting of Clare and De Wilton significant of Scott's 
 limitations as a poet? Make a Hst of the most dramatic situations 
 in the poem. 
 
 Discuss: Scott succeeds better in portraying minor figures and 
 characters than in portraying the leading characters. What parts 
 of the poem do you like the best? Why? Select passages in the poem 
 that are marked by rapidity of movement. By vigor. By pure 
 lyrical quality. By great imaginative power. 
 
 Discuss: "Scott works in the primary colors." 
 
A HISTORY OF ENGLISH 
 LITERATURE 
 
 By REUBEN POST HALLECK, M.A. (Yale), 
 
 Louisville Male High School, Price, ;^i.2 5 
 
 HALLECK'S HISTORY OF ENGLISH LIT- 
 ERATURE traces the development of that litera- 
 ture from the earliest times to the present in a 
 concise, interesting, and stimulating manner. Although the 
 subject is presented so clearly that it can be readily com- 
 prehended by high school pupils, the treatment is sufficiently 
 philosophic and suggestive for any student beginning the 
 study. 
 
 ^ The book is a history of literature, and not a mere col- 
 lection of biographical sketches. Only enough of the facts 
 of an author's life are given to make students interested in 
 him as a personality, and to show how his environment 
 affected his work. Each author's productions, their rela- 
 tions to the age, and the reasons why they hold a position 
 in literature, receive adequate treatment. 
 ^ One of the most striking features of the work consists in 
 the way in which literary movements are clearly outlined at 
 the beginning of each chapter. Special attention is given to 
 the essential qualities which differentiate one period from 
 another, and to the animating spirit of each age. The author 
 shows that each period has contributed something definite 
 to the literature of England. 
 
 ^ At the end of each chapter a carefully prepared list of 
 books is given to direct the student in studying the original 
 works of the authors treated. He is told not only what to 
 read, but also where to find it at the least cost. The book 
 contains a special literary map of England in colors. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
 (S. 90) 
 
INTRODUCTION TO 
 AMERICAN LITERATURE 
 
 By BRANDER MATTHEWS, A.M., LL.B., Profes- 
 sor of Literature, Columbia University. Price, ;gi.oo 
 
 EX-PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT, in a most ap. 
 preciative review in The Bookman , says : '* The 
 book is a piece of v^ork as good of its kind as any 
 American scholar has ever had in his hands. It is just 
 the kind of book that should be given to a beginner, be- 
 cause it will give him a clear idea of what to read, and of 
 the relative importance of the authors he is to read ; yet it 
 is much more than merely a book for beginners. Any 
 student of the subject who wishes to do good work here- 
 after must not only read Mr. Matthews' book, but must 
 largely adopt Mr. Matthews' way of looking at things, 
 for these simply written, unpretentious chapters are worth 
 many times as much as the ponderous tomes which con- 
 tain what usually passes for criticism ; and the principles 
 upon which Air. Matthews insists with such quiet force 
 and good taste are those which must be adopted, not 
 only by every student of American writings, but by every 
 American writer, if he is going to do what is really worth 
 doing. ... In short, Mr. Matthews has produced 
 an admirable book, both in manner and matter, and has 
 made a distinct addition to the very literature of which he 
 writes." 
 
 ^ The book is amply provided with pedagogical features. 
 Each chapter includes questions for review, bibliograph- 
 ical notes, facsimiles of manuscripts, and portraits, while 
 at the end of the volume is a brief chronology of American 
 literature. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
 (S. 90 
 
WRITTEN AND ORAL 
 COMPOSITION 
 
 By MARTIN W. SAMPSON, Professor of English, 
 Cornell University; and ERNEST O. HOLLAND, 
 Professor of Secondary Education, Indiana University. 
 
 ^0.80 
 
 THIS is the first book to provide a complete course 
 in composition, both w^ritten and oral, w^ith due stress 
 on each part of the w^ork. Both in theory and in 
 practice, the present volume tends to strengthen EngHsh 
 instruction at its w^eakest point, the pupiP s use of spoken 
 language. It is sensible, v^orkable, and free from ped- 
 antry, and is particularly suited to a heterogeneous ele- 
 mentary class. 
 
 ^ Besides the unique feature of combining w^ritten and 
 oral work, the book contains many original devices for 
 stimulating the pupil's interest in his ow^n composition. 
 Perhaps, too, no textbook on composition has ever been 
 put together w^ith a more scrupulous regard for the teacher's 
 ow^n needs. The lessons are so planned as to distribute 
 the written work evenly throughout the year, so that the 
 task of theme-correcting is lightened as much as possible. 
 The experienced teacher will find in the complete series of 
 alternative lessons abundant opportunities to emphasize spe- 
 cial points, and the inexperienced teacher will find in the 
 specific directions for each lesson as definite a guide to 
 successful teaching as a textbook alone can furnish. Every 
 lesson in the book has been made to stand a four-fold test; 
 its ability to meet the needs of the intelligent student, the 
 dull student, the expert teacher, and the novice. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
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NINETEENTH CENTURY 
 ENGLISH PROSE 
 
 Critical Essays 
 
 Edited with Introductions and Notes by THOMAS H. 
 DICKINSON, Ph.D., and FREDERICK W. ROE, 
 A.M., Assistant Professors of English, University of 
 Wisconsin. Price, ^i.oo. 
 
 THIS book for college classes presents a series often 
 selected essays, which are intended to trace the 
 development of EngHsh criticism in the nineteenth 
 century. The essays cover a definite period, and exhibit 
 the individuality of each author's method of criticism. In 
 each case they are those most typical of the author's crit- 
 ical principles, and at the same time representative of the 
 critical tendencies of his age. The subject-matter provides 
 interesting material for intensive study and class room dis- 
 cussion, and each essay is an example of excellent, though 
 varying, style. 
 
 ^ They represent not only the authors who write, but 
 the authors who are treated. The essays provide the 
 best things that have been said by England's critics on Swift, 
 on Scott, on Macaulay, and on Emerson. 
 
 ^ The introductions and notes provide the necessary bio- 
 graphical matter, suggestive points for the use of the teacher 
 in stimulating discussion of the form or content of the essays, 
 and such aids as will eliminate those matters of detail that 
 might prove stumbling blocks to the student. Though the 
 essays are in chronological order, they may be treated at 
 random according to the purposes of the teacher. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
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INTRODUCTORY COURSE 
 IN EXPOSITION 
 
 By FRANCES M. PERRY, Associate Professor of 
 Rhetoric and Composition, Wellesley College. 
 
 ;^i.oo 
 
 EXPOSITION is generally admitted to be the most 
 commonly used form of discourse, and its successful 
 practice develops keen observation, deliberation, 
 sound critical judgment, and clear and concise expression. 
 Unfortunately, how^ever, expository courses often fail to 
 justify the prevailing estimate of the value of exposition, 
 because the subject has been presented in an unsystem- 
 atized manner v^ithout variety or movement. 
 ^ The aim of this book is to provide a systematized 
 course in the theory and practice of expository v^riting. 
 The student will acquire from its study a clear under- 
 standing of exposition — its nature ; its tw^o processes, 
 definition and analysis ; its three functions impersonal 
 presentation or transcript, interpretation, and interpretative 
 presentation ; and the special application of exposition in 
 literary criticism. He v^ill also gain, through the practice 
 required by the course, facility in vs^riting in a clear and 
 attractive v^ay the various types of exposition. The 
 volume includes an interesting section on literary criticism. 
 ^ The method used is direct exposition, amply reinforced 
 by examples and exercises. The illustrative matter is 
 taken from many and varied sources, but much of it is 
 necessarily modern. The book meets the needs of 
 students in the final years of secondary schools, or the 
 first years of college. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
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ESSENTIALS IN ENGLISH 
 HISTORY 
 
 From the Earliest Recordstothe PresentDay. By ALBERT 
 PERRY WALKER, A.M., Master in History, Eng- 
 lish High School, Boston. In consultation with 
 ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, LL.D., Professor 
 
 of History, Harvard University. Price, ^1.50 
 
 LIKE the other volumes of the Essentials in History 
 J Series, this text-book is intended to form a year's 
 vs^ork in secondary schools, following out the recom- 
 mendation of the Committee of Seven, and meeting the re- 
 quirements of the College Entrance Examination Board, and 
 of the New York State Education Department. The text 
 is continuous, the sectional headings being placed in the 
 margin. The maps and illustrations are worthy of special 
 mention. 
 
 ^ The book is a model of good historical exposition, un- 
 usually clear in expression, logical and coherent in arrange- 
 ment, and accurate in statement. The essential facts in the 
 development of the British Empire are vividly described, 
 and the relation of cause and effect is clearly brought out. 
 ^ The treatment begins with a brief survey of the whole 
 course of English history, deducing therefrom three general 
 movements : ( i ) the fusing of several races into the Eng- 
 lish people ; (2) the solution by the people of two great 
 problems: free and democratic home government, and prac- 
 tical, enlightened government of foreign dependencies; and 
 (3 ) the extreme development of two great fields of industry, 
 commerce and manufacture. The narrative follows the 
 chronological order, and ends with a masterly summary of 
 England's contribution to civilization. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
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LESSONS IN PHYSICAL 
 GEOGRAPHY 
 
 By CHARLES R. DRYER, M.A., F.G.S.A., Pro- 
 fessor of Geography, Indiana State Normal School. 
 
 |l.20 
 
 SIMPLICITY and accuracy constitute two of the chief 
 merits of this textbook. The physical features of the 
 earth are grouped according to their causal relations 
 and the functions which they perform in the world econ- 
 omy. The characteristics of each group are presented by 
 means of a typical example, which is described in unusual 
 detail. Many reahstic exercises are introduced to direct 
 the student how to study the thing itself, whenever prac- 
 ticable, or some experimental or pictorial representation of 
 it. These exercises include both field and laboratory 
 work. 
 
 ^ Each topic is treated with such fullness that it enables 
 the teacher who has not had a special course in geography 
 to teach the subject intelligently. At intervals throughout 
 the book there are introduced discussions of the conse- 
 quences which follow the conditions described, and chap- 
 ters upon Hfe, containing a full treatment of the controls 
 exerted by geographical conditions upon plants, animals, 
 and men. 
 
 ^ The book is eminently readable. The appendix con- 
 tains directions for laboratory exercises, full information in 
 regard to the best material for the equipment of a geo- 
 graphical laboratory, and a reference Hst of the available 
 literature upon the subject. The volume is profusely illus- 
 trated. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
 (S.II2) 
 
THE SHORT-STORY 
 
 Specimens Illustrating Its Development 
 
 By BRANDER MATTHEWS, LL. D., D. C. L., 
 
 Litt. D., Professor of Dramatic Literature, Columbia 
 University. 
 
 $ 1 .00 
 
 THE short-story is distinguished from the novel by its 
 brevity, and from the more brief tale by its unity, its 
 totality, its concentration upon a single eifect or a 
 single sequence of effects. 
 
 ^ In this book a group of twenty-four specimen stories 
 have been selected to show the development of the form — 
 the slow evolution of this literary species through the long 
 centuries of advancing civilization. The earlier tales here 
 presented are not true short-stories ; each of them lacks 
 one or another of the essential characteristics of the type. 
 The more modern examples are true short-stories; and 
 they have been chosen to exhibit the many varieties possi- 
 ble within the species. They have been selected from 
 the chief modern literatures, English, French, German, 
 Russian, and Norwegian ; and they present many con- 
 trasting shades of local color. 
 
 ^ The introduction traces the growth of the form through 
 the history of literature and seeks to set forth the attain- 
 ment of the type. The notes prefixed to the several 
 specimens outline briefly the biographies of the authors, and 
 discuss succinctly their literary position. The notes 
 appended to each of the specimens are intended to call 
 the attention of the student to the merits and the defects of 
 that particular story considered as an example of the form. 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
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THE MASTERY OF BOOKS 
 
 By HARRY LYMAN KOOPMAN, A.M., Librarian 
 
 of Brown University. Price, 90 cents 
 
 IN this book Mr. Koopman, whose experience and 
 reputation as a librarian give him unusual qualifications 
 as an adviser, presents to the student at the outset the 
 advantages of reading, and the great field of literature 
 open to the reader's choice. He takes counsel with the 
 student as to his purpose, capacities, and opportunities in 
 reading, and aims to assist him in following such methods 
 and in turning to such classes of books as will further the 
 attainment of his object. 
 
 ^ Pains are taken to provide the young student from the 
 beginning with a knowledge, often lacking in older readers, 
 of the simplest literary tools — reference books and cata- 
 logues. An entire chapter is given to the discussion of 
 the nature and value of that form of printed matter which 
 forms the chief reading of the modern world — periodical 
 literature. Methods of note- taking and of mnemonics 
 are fully described ; and a highly suggestive and valuable 
 chapter is devoted to language study. 
 
 ^ One of the most valuable chapters in the volume to 
 most readers is that concerning courses of reading. In 
 accordance with the author's new plan for the guidance 
 of readers, a classified list of about fifteen hundred books 
 is given, comprising the most valuable works in reference 
 books, periodicals, philosophy, reHgion, mythology and 
 folk-lore, biography, history, travels, sociology, natural 
 sciences, art, poetry, fiction, Greek, Latin, and modern 
 literatures. The latest and best editions are specified, and 
 the relative value of the several works mentioned is indi- 
 cated in notes. 
 
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DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 CATALOGUE OF HIGH 
 
 SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 
 
 TEXTBOOKS 
 
 Published Complete and in Sections 
 
 WE issue a Catalogue of High School and College 
 Textbooks, which we have tried to make as valua- 
 ble and as useful to teachers as possible. In this 
 catalogue are set forth briefly and clearly the scope and 
 leading characteristics of each of our best textbooks. In 
 most cases there are also given testimonials from well- 
 known teachers, which have been selected quite as much 
 for their descriptive qualities as for their value as com- 
 mendations. 
 
 ^ For the convenience of teachers this Catalogue is also 
 published in separate sections treating of the various branches 
 of study. These pamphlets are entitled: EngHsh, Mathe- 
 matics, History and Political Science, Science, Modern 
 Languages, Ancient Languages, and Philosophy and 
 Education. 
 
 ^ Teachers seeking the newest and best books for their 
 classes are invited to send for our Complete High School 
 and College Catalogue, or for such sections as may be of 
 greatest interest. 
 
 ^ Copies of our price lists, or of special circulars, in which 
 these books are described at greater length than the space 
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 address on request. Address all correspondence to the 
 nearest office of the company. 
 
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MAR 23 t9lT 
 
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