“ 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 tabarts deck,
With silver scutcheon round their neck,

Stood on the steps of stone,
By which you reach the donjon gate,
And there, with herald pomp and state,

They hail'd Lord Marmion :
They hail'd him Lord of Fontenaye,
Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye,

Of Tamworth tower and town;
And he, their courtesy' to requite,
Gave them a chain of twelve marks weight,

All as he lighted down.

“ Now, largesse, largesse,* Lord Marmion,

Knight of the crest of gold ! “ A blazon'd shield, in battle won,

“ Ne'er guarded heart so bold.”

XII.

They marshalld him to the Castle-hall,

Where the guests stood all aside, And loudly flourish'd the trumpet-call,

And the heralds loudly cried, —“ Room, lordings, room for Lord Marmion,

“ With the crest and helm of gold ! “ Full well we know the trophies won

“ In the lists at Cottiswold :

“ There, vainly Ralph de Wilton strove

“ 'Gainst Marmion's force to stand; “ To him he lost his lady-love,

“ And to the King his land.

The cry by which the heralds expressed their thanks for the bounty of the nobles.

“ 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 ; “ 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 conquer'd in the right,

“ Marmion of Fontenaye !"

XIII.

Then stepp'd to meet that noble Lord,

Sir Hugh the Heron bold,
Baron of Twisell, 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
Chaunted a rhyme of deadly feud,
“ How the fierce Thirwalls, and Ridleys all,

" Stout Willimondswick,

“ And Hard-riding Dick, “ And Hughie of Hawdon, and Will o' the Wall, “ Have set on Sir Albany Featherstonhaugh, “ And taken his life at the Deadman's-shaw.". Scantly 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,"

• The rest of this old ballad may be found in the note.

“ 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 pass’d a week but giust

" Or feat of arms befel :

66 The Scots can rein a mettled steed,

“ And love to couch a spear ;“ Saint George ! a stirring life they lead,

“ That have such neighbours near. “ Then stay with us a little space,

66 Our northern wars to learn ; “ I pray you for your lady's grace !"

Lord Marmion's brow grew stern.

XV.

The Captain mark'd his alter'd look,

And gave a squire the sign ; A mighty wassell bowl he took,

And crown'd it high with wine.