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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 to the block !"
Say ye, who preach heaven shall decide,
Say, was heaven's justice here?
Wilton found overthrow or death,
Beneath a traitor's
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.
“ Still was false Marmion's bridal staid; To Whitby's convent fled the maid,
The hated match to shuu.
Ho! shifts she thus ?' king Henry cried,
If she were swore a nun.'
One way remained—the king's command
Sent Marmion to the Scottish land:
I lingered here, and rescue plann'd
For Clara and for me:
This caitiff Monk, for gold, did swear,
He would to Whitby's shrine repair,
A saint in heaven should be.
But ill the dastard kept his oath,
Whose cowardice hath undone us both.
" 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,
And come he slow, or come he fast,
It is but Death who comes at last.
" 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,
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 traveller then shall find my bones, Whitening amid disjointed stones,
And, ignorant of priests' cruelty,
Marvel such relics here should be."
Fixed was her look, and stern her air ;
The locks, that wont her brow to shade,
Stared up erectly from her head;
With stupid eyes, the men of fate
Gazed on the light inspired form,
From that dire dungeon, place of doom,
Paced forth the judges three;
Sorrow it were, and shame, to tell
Of sin and misery.
An hundred winding steps convey