Thick round the lists their lances stood,
Like blasted pines in Ettricke wood;
To Branksome many a look they threw,
The combatants' approach to view,
And bandied many a word of boast,
About the knight each favoured most.
Meantime full anxious was the Dame;
For now arose disputed claim,
Of who should fight for Deloraine,
"Twixt Harden and 'twixt Thirlestane:
They 'gan to reckon kin and rent,
And frowning brow on brow was bent;
But yet not long the strife-for, lo!
Himself, the Knight of Deloraine,
Strong, as it seemed, and free from pain,
In armour sheathed from top to toe,
Appeared, and craved the combat due.
The Dame her charm successful knew,
And the fierce chiefs their claims withdrew.
When for the lists they sought the plain,
The stately Ladye's silken rein
Did noble Howard hold;
Unarmed, by her side he walked,
And much, in courteous phrase, they talked
Of feats of arms of old.
Costly his garb-his Flemish ruff
Fell o'er his doubiet, shaped of buff,
With satin slashed, and lined;
Tawny his boot, and gold his spur,
His cloak was all of Poland fur,
His hose with silver twined;
His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt,
Hung in a broad and studded belt;
Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still
Called noble Howard, Belted Will.
Behind Lord Howard and the Dame,
Fair Margaret on her palfrey came,
Whose foot-cloth swept the ground:
White was her wimple, and her veil,
And her loose locks a chaplet pale
Of whitest roses bound;
The lordly Angus, by her side,
In courtesy to cheer her tried';
r Refer to Canto III. Stanza 23.
A kind of cape or tippet covering the neck and shoulders.-Halli well.
Without his aid, her hand in vain
Had strove to guide her broidered rein.
He deemed, she shuddered at the sight
Of warriors met for mortal fight;
But cause of terror, all unguessed,
Was fluttering in her gentle breast,
When, in their chairs of crimson placed,
The Dame and she the barriers graced.
Prize of the field, the young Buccleuch
An English knight led forth to view;
Scarce rued the boy his present plight,
So much he longed to see the fight.
Within the lists, in knightly pride,
High Home and haughty Dacre ride;
Their leading staffs of steel they wield,
As marshals of the mortal field:
While to each knight their care assighed
Like vantage of the sun and wind.t
Then heralds hoarse did loud proclaim,
In king and queen, and warden's name,
That none, while lasts the strife,
Should dare, by look, or sign, or word,
Aid to a champion to afford,
And not a breath the silence broke,
Till thus the alternate heralds spoke :--
Here standeth Richard of Musgrave,
Good knight and true, and freely born,
Amends from Deloraine to crave,
For foul despiteous scathe" and scorn.
He sayeth, that William of Deloraine
Is traitor false by Border laws;
This with his sword he will maintain,
So help him God, and his good cause!
Here standeth William of Deloraine,
Good knight and true, of noble strain,
Who sayeth, that foul treason's stain,
Since he bore arms, ne'er soiled his coat;
And that, so help him God above!
He will on Musgrave's body prove,
He lyes most foully in his throat.
'This couplet is not in the first edition.
Forward, brave champions, to the fight!
-"God defend the right!"
Then, Teviot! how thine echoes rang,
When bugle-sound and trumpet-clang
Let loose the martial foes,
And in mid list, with shield poised high,
And measured step and wary eye,
The combatants did close.
Ill would it suit your gentle ear,
Ye lovely listeners, to hear
How to the axe the helms did sound,
And blood poured down from many a wound;
For desperate was the strife, and long,
And either warrior fierce and strong.
But, were each dame a listening knight,
I well could tell how warriors fight;
For I have seen war's lightning flashing,
Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing,
Seen through red blood the war-horse dashing,
And scorned, amid the reeling strife,
To yield a step for death or life.
'Tis done, 'tis done! that fatal blow
Has stretched him on the bloody plain;
He strives to rise-Brave Musgrave, no!
Thence never shalt thou rise again!
He chokes in blood-some friendly hand
Undo the visor's barred band,
Unfix the gorget's iron clasp,
And give him room for life to gasp!
O, bootless aid!-haste holy Friar,
Haste, ere the sinner shall expire!
Of all his guilt let him be shriven,
And smooth his path from earth to heaven.
In haste the holy Friar sped;
His naked foot was dyed with red,
As through the lists he ran;
Unmindful of the shouts on high,
That hailed the conqueror's victory,
He raised the dying man;
These lines, to the end of the stanza, are given in place of the
following couplet in the first edition.
"At the last word, with deadly blows,
The ready warriors fiercely close."
Loose waved his silver beard and hair,
As o'er him he kneeled down in prayer;
And still the crucifix on high
He holds before his darkening eye;
And still he bends an anxious ear,
His faltering penitence to hear;
props him from the bloody sod, Still, even when soul and body part, Pours ghostly comfort on his heart, And bids him trust in God!
Unheard he prays;-the death-pang's o'er!Richard of Musgrave breathes no more.
As if exhausted in the fight,
Or musing o'er the piteous sight,
The silent victor stands;
His beaver did he not unclasp,
Marked not the shouts, felt not the grasp
Of gratulating hands.
When lo! strange cries of wild surprise,
Mingled with seeming terror, rise
Among the Scottish bands;
And all, amid the thronged array,
In panic haste gave open way
To a half-naked ghastly man,
Who downward from the castle ran:
He crossed the barriers at a bound,
And wild and haggard looked around,
As dizzy, and in pain;
And all, upon the armèd ground,
Knew William of Deloraine!
Each ladye sprung from seat with speed;
Vaulted each marshal from his steed;
And who art thou," they cried,
Who hast this battle fought and won ?" His plumèd helm was soon undone
Cranstoun of Teviot-side!
For this fair prize I've fought and won,”—
And to the Ladye led her son.
Full oft the rescued boy she kissed, And often pressed him to her breast; For, under all her dauntless show, Her heart had throbbed at every blow; Yet not Lord Cranstoun deigned she greet, Though low he kneelèd at her feet.Me lists not tell what words were made, What Douglas, Home, and Howard saidFor Howard was a generous foeAnd how the clan united prayed, The Ladye would the feud forego,
And deign to bless the nuptial hour
Of Cranstoun's Lord and Teviot's Flower.
She looked to river, looked to hill,
Thought on the Spirit's prophecy,
Then broke her silence stern and still,-
"Not you, but Fate, has vanquished me;
Their influence kindly stars may shower
On Teviot's tide and Branksome's tower,
For pride is quelled, and love is free."
She took fair Margaret by the hand,
Who, breathless, trembling, scarce might stand;
That hand to Cranstoun's lord gave she:-
"As I am true to thee and thine,
Do thou be true to me and mine!
This clasp of love our bond shall be;
For this is your betrothing day,
And all these noble lords shall stay,
To grace it with their company.'
All as they left the listed plain,
Much of the story she did gain;
How Cranstoun fought with Deloraine,
And of his Page, and of the Book,
Which from the wounded knight he took;
And how he sought her castle high,
That morn, by help of gramarye;
How, in Sir William's armour dight,
Stolen by his Page, while slept the knight,
He took on him the single fight.
But half his tale he left unsaid,
And lingered till he joined the maid.-
Cared not the Ladye to betray
Her mystic arts in view of day;
But well she thought, ere midnight came,
Of that strange Page the pride to tame,
From his foul hands the Book to save,
And send it back to Michael's grave.-
Needs not to tell each tender word
"Twixt Margaret and 'twixt Cranstoun's lord; Nor how she told of former woes,
And how her bosom fell and rose,
While he and Musgrave bandied blows
Needs not these lovers' joys to tell;
One day, fair maids, you'll know them well.
William of Deloraine, some chance
Had wakened from his death-like trance;
And taught that, in the listed plain,
Another, in his arms and shield,
|