66 Say to your lords of high emprise, Who war on women and on boys,
That either William of Deloraine
Will cleanse hin, by oath, of march-treason stain,
Or else he will the combat take
'Gainst Musgrave, for his honour's sake. No knight in Cumberland so good,
But William may count with him kin and
blood.
Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword,
When English blood swelled Ancram ford;
And but that lord Dacre's steed was wight,
And bare him ably in the flight,
Himself had seen him dubbed a knight.
For the young heir of Branksome's line,
God be his aid, and God be mine;
Through me no friend shall meet his doom;
Here, while I live, no foe finds room.
Then, if thy lords their purpose urge,
Take our defiance loud and high;
Our slogan is their lyke-wake* dirge,
Our moat, the grave where they shall lie."
Proud she looked round, applause to claim-
Then lightened Thirlestane's eye of flame;
His bugle Wat of Harden blew :
* Lyke-wake, the watching a corpse previous to inter ment,
Pensils and pennons wide were flung,
To heaven the Border slogan rung,
"Saint Mary for the young Buccleuch !" The English war-cry answered wide, And forward bent each southern spear; Each Kendal archer made a stride, And drew the bow-string to his ear; Each minstrel's war-note loud was blown':But, ere a gray-goose shaft had flown, A horseman galloped from the rear.
"Ah! noble lords!" he, breathless, said,
"What treason has your march betrayed?
What make you here, from aid so far,
Before you walls, around you war?
Your foemen triumph in the thought,
That in the toils the lion's caught.
Already on dark Ruberslaw
The Douglas holds his weapon-schaw ;*
The lances, waving in his train,
Clothe the dun heath like autumn grain;
And on the Liddle's northern strand,
To bar retreat to Cumberland,
Lord Maxwell ranks his merry-men good,
Beneath the eagle and the rood;
And Jedwood, Eske, and Teviotdale,
Have to proud Angus come;
And all the Merse and Lauderdale
Have risen with haughty Home.
* Weapon-schaw, the military array of a county.
An exile from Northumberland,
In Liddesdale I've wandered long; But still my heart was with merry England, And cannot brook my country's wrong; And hard I've spurred all night, to show The mustering of the coming foe."
"And let them come!" fierce Dacre cried; "For soon yon crest, my father's pride, That swept the shores of Judah's sea, And waved in gales of Galilee,
From Branksome's highest towers displayed, Shall mock the rescue's lingering aid!—
Level each harquebuss on row;
Draw, merry archers, draw the bow;
Up, bill-men, to the walls, and cry,
Dacre for England, win or die!”-
"Yet hear," quoth Howard," calmly hear, Nor deem my words the words of fear: For who, in field or foray slack,
Saw the blanche lion e'er fall back?
But thus to risk our Border flower
In strife against a kingdom's power,
Ten thousand Scots 'gainst thousands three,
Certes, were desperate policy.
Nay, take the terms the Ladye made,
Ere conscious of the advancing aid:
Let Musgrave meet fierce Deloraine
In single fight, and if he gain,
He gains for us; but if he's crossed,
"Tis but a single warrior lost:
The rest, retreating as they came,
Avoid defeat, and death, and shame.”
Ill could the haughty Dacre brook
His brother-warden's sage rebuke:
And yet his forward step he stayed,
And slow and sullenly obeyed.
But ne'er again the Borderside
Did these two lords in friendship ride;
And this slight discontent, men say,
Cost blood upon another day.
The pursuivant-at-arms again
Before the castle took his stand;
His trumpet called, with parleying strain,
The leaders of the Scottish band;
And he defied, in Musgrave's right,
Stout Deloraine to single fight;
A gauntlet at their feet he laid,
And thus the terms of fight he said :—
"If in the lists good Musgrave's sword
Vanquish the knight of Deloraine,
Your youthful chieftain, Branksome's lord ;
Shall hostage for his clan remain :
If Deloraine foil good Musgrave,
The boy his liberty shall have.
Howe'er it falls, the English band,
Unharming Scots, by Scots unharmed,
In peaceful march, like men unarmed,
Shall straight retreat to Cumberland."
Unconscious of the near relief,
The proffer pleased each Scottish chief,
Though much the Ladye sage gainsayed;
For though their hearts were brave and true,
From Jedwood's recent sack they knew,
How tardy was the regent's aid :
And you may guess the noble dame
Durst not the secret prescience own,
Sprung from the art she might not name,
By which the coming help was known.
Closed was the compact, and agreed
That lists should be inclosed with speed,
Beneath the castle, on a lawn:
They fixed the morrow for the strife,
On foot, with Scottish axe and knife,
At the fourth hour from peep of dawn :
When Deloraine, from sickness freed,
Or else a champion in his stead,
Should for himself and chieftain stand,
Against stout Musgrave, hand to hand.
I know right well, that, in their lay,
Full many minstrels sing and say,
Such combat should be made on horse,
On foaming steed, in full career,
With brand to aid, when as the spear
Should shiver in the course :
But he, the jovial Harper, taught
Me, yet a youth, how it was fought,
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