With English 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 com'st among the rest, With Scottish broadsword to be blest, Sharp be the brand, and sure 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.
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 defence to break a spear. 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, In the hall-window of his home, Imprinted at the antique dome Of Caxton or de Worde.
Therefore he spoke, but spoke in vain, For Marmion answered nought again.
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 line had made, As forth from the opposing shade Issued a gallant train.
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, 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.
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.
On milk-white palfrey forth he paced; His cap 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!
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
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."
Though inly chafed at this delay, Lord Marmion bears it as he may. The Palmer, his mysterious guide, Beholding thus his place supplied, 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.
"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 decline, 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,
« 前へ次へ » |