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For, like mad Tom's, * our chiefest care,
• See King Lear.
Eustace, I said, did blithely mark
But soon their mood was changed: .
Of something disarranged.
Some clamoured loud for armour lost; Some brawled and wrangled with the host; “ By Becket's bones,” cried one, “ I fear, . That some false Scot has stolen my spear !"Young Blount, Lord Marmion's second squire, Found his steed wet with sweat and mire ; Although the rated horse-boy sware, Last night he dressed him sleek and fair. While chafed the impatient squire like thunder, Old Hubert shouts, in fear and wonder,— “ Help, gentle Blount! help, comrades all! Bevis lies dying in his stall : To Marmion who the plight dare tell, Of the good steed he loves so well?”– Gaping for fear and ruth, they saw . The charger panting on his straw; Till one, who would seem wisest, cried, « What else but evil could betide, With that cursed Palmer for our guide ?