Such tools the Tempter ever needs, Their nights no fancied spectres haunt; 10 15 And crouch, like hound beneath the lash, YET well the luckless wretch might shriek, xxiii Well might her paleness terror speak! For there were seen, in that dark wall, Two niches, narrow, deep, and tall;— Two haggard monks stood motionless; 5 10 Reflecting back the smoky beam, The dark-red walls and arches gleam. Hewn stones and cement were displayed, 15 And building tools in order laid. xxiv THESE executioners were chose, As men who were with mankind foes, Or who, in desperate doubt of grace, 5 Of some foul crime the stain; For, as the vassals of her will, Or thought more grace to gain, To speak the Chapter's doom, Alive, within the tomb; 'Twas ocean's swells and falls; Ar length, an effort sent apart The blood that curdled to her heart, 5 By Autumn's stormy sky; And when her silence broke at length, And armed herself to bear. 10 It was a fearful sight to see In form so soft and fair. "I SPEAK not to implore your grace; Well know I, for one minute's space Successless might I sue : Nor do I speak your prayers to gain; I listened to a traitor's tale, xxvii 5 I left the convent and the veil ; For three long years I bowed my pride, 10 A horse-boy in his train to ride; That loved, or was avenged, like me! THE KING approved his favourite's aim; In vain a rival barred his claim, Whose faith with Clare's was plight, 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, Say ye, who preach Heaven shall decide, 15 How false the charge, how true he fell, 20 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; xxix To Whitby's convent fled the maid, The hated match to shun. 'Ho! shifts she thus?' King Henry cried. 'Sir Marmion, she shall be thy bride, 5 If she were sworn a nun.' One way remained-the King's command I lingered here, and rescue planned For Clara and for me: This caitiff monk, for gold did swear, 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 10 15 XXX 5 Now, men of death, work forth your will, For I can suffer, and be still; And come he slow, or come he fast, It is but Death who comes at last. 10 xxxi 5 The ire of a despotic King Rides forth upon destruction's wing. 10 Then shall these vaults, so strong and deep, Burst open to the sea-wind's sweep; Some traveller then shall find my bones, 15 FIXED was her look, and stern her air; xxxii Back from her shoulders streamed her hair; The locks, that wont her brow to shade, With stupid eyes, the men of fate 10 No hand was moved, no word was said, Raising his sightless balls to heaven :— D 15 |