His men-at-arms bear mace and lance, And plumes that wave, and helms that glance. Thus fair divided by the King, Centre, and right, and left-ward wing, Composed his front; nor distant far Was strong reserve to aid the war. And 'twas to front of this array, Her guide and Edith made their way. XIII. Here must they pause; for, in advance As far as one might pitch a lance, The Monarch rode along the van, The foe's approaching force to scan, His line to marshal and to range, And ranks to square, and fronts to change. Alone he rode-from head to heel Sheathed in his ready arms of steel; Nor mounted yet on war-horse wight, But, till more near the shock of fight, A diadem of gold was set Above his bright steel bassinet, And clasp'd within its glittering twine He ranged his soldiers for the fight, Of either host.-Three bowshots far, To close and rank their warlike filc, And hold high council, if that night Should view the strife, or dawning light. XIV. O gay, yet fearful to behold, Flashing with steel and rough with gold, And bristled o'er with bills and spears, With plumes and pennons waving fair, Was that bright battle-front! for there Rode England's King and peers: And who, that saw that monarch ride, Could then his direful doom foretell ! Fair was his seat in knightly selle, And in his sprightly eye was set Some spark of the Plantagenet. Though light and wandering was his glance, It flash'd at sight of shield and lance. "Know'st thou," he said, "De Argentine, Yon knight who marshals thus their line?"— "The tokens on his helmet tell The Bruce, my Liege: I know him well.”. "And shall the audacious traitor brave The presence where our banners wave?”— "So please my Liege," said Argentine, "Were he but horsed on steed like mine, To give him fair and knightly chance, I would adventure forth my lance." "In battle-day," the King replied, "Nice tourney rules are set aside. -Still must the rebel dare our wrath? Set on him-sweep him from our path !"- Dash'd from the ranks Sir Henry Boune. XV. Of Hereford's high blood he came, A race renown'd for knightly fame. He burn'd before his Monarch's eye To do some deed of chivalry. He spurr'd his steed, he couch'd his lance, And darted on the Bruce at once. -As motionless as rocks, that bide The wrath of the advancing tide, The Bruce stood fast. Each breast beat high, And dazzled was each gazing eye The heart had hardly time to think, The eye-lid scarce had time to wink, While on the King, like flash of flame, spear. Onward the baffled warrior bore His course-but soon his course was o'er !— High in his stirrups stood the King, And gave his battle-axe the swing. Right on De Boune, the whiles he pass'd, Fell that stern dint-the first-the last ! Such strength upon the blow was put, The helmet crash'd like hazel-nut; The axe-shaft, with its brazen clasp, Drops to the plain the lifeless corse; How sudden, fell the fierce De Boune! |