66

XIX.

Since, on the vigil of St. Bede, " For such-like need, my lord, I trow,

In evil hour, he cross'd the Tweed, Norham can find you guides enow;

To teach Dame Alison her creed. For here be some have prick'd as far,

Old Bughtrig found him with his wife; On Scottish ground, as to Dunbar;

And John, an enemy to strife, Have drunk the monks of St. Bothan's ale,

Sans frock and hood, fied for his life. And driven the beeves of Lauderdale;

The jealous churl bath deeply swore,
Harried the wives of Greenlaw's goods,

That, if again he venture o'er,
And given them light to set their hoods.”_ He shall shrieve penitent no more.

Little he loves such risks, I know;
XX

Yet, in your guard, perchance will go." “ Now, in good sooth,” Lord Marmion cried,

XXII. “ Were I in warlike wise to ride,

Young Selby, at the fair hall-board, A better guard I would not lack,

Carved to his uncle and that lord, Than your stout forayers at my back;

And reverently took up the word. But, as in form of peace I go,

“ Kind uncle, woe were we each one, A friendly messenger, to know,

If harm should hap to brother John. Why through all Scotland, near and far,

He is a man of mirthful speech, Their King is mustering troops for war,

Can many a game and gambol teach : The sight of plundering Border spears

Full well at tables can he play, Might justify suspicious fears,

And sweep at bowls the stake away. And deadly feud, or thirst of spoil,

None can a lustier carol bawl, Break out in some unseemly broil:

The needfullest among us all, A herald were my fitting guide;

When time hangs heavy in the hall, Or friar, sworn in peace to bide;

And snow comes thick at Christmas tide, Or pardoner, or travelling priest,

And we can neither hunt, nor ride Or strolling pilgrim, at the least.”

A foray on the Scottish side.

The vow'd revenge of Bughtrig rude,
XXI.

May end in worse than loss of hood.
The Captain mused a little space,

Let Friar John, in safety, still And pass'd his hand across his face.

In chimney-corner snore his fill, -“ Fain would I find the guide you want,

Roast hissing crabs, or flagons swill: But ill may spare a pursuivant,

Last night, to Norham there came one, The only men that safe can ride

Will better guide Lord Marmion.”— Mine errands on the Scottish side:

“ Nephew," quoth Heron, “ by my fay, And though a bishop built this fort,

Well hast thou spoke; say forth thy say.”Few holy brethren here resort; Even our good chaplain, as I ween,

XXIII. Since our last siege, we have not seen:

“ Here is a holy Palmer come, The mass he might not sing or say,

From Salem first, and last from Rome; Upon one stinted meal a-day;

One, that hath hiss'd the blessed tomb, So, safe he sat in Durham aisle,

And visited each holy shrine, And pray'd for our success the while.

In Araby and Palestine; Our Norham vicar, woe betide,

On hills of Armenie hath been, Is all too well in case to ride;

Where Noah's ark may yet be seen; The priest of Shoreswood-he could rein

By that Red Sea, too, hath he trod, The wildest war-horse in your train;

Which parted at the prophet's rod; But then, no spearman in the hall

In Sinai's wilderness he saw Will sooner swear, or stab, or brawl.

The Mount, where Israel heard the law, Friar John of Tillmouth were the man:

'Mid thunder-dint, and flashing levin, A blithesome brother at the can,

And shadows, mists, and darkness, given. A welcome guest in hall and bower,

He shows Saint James's cochle-shell, He knows each castle, town, and tower,

Of fair Montserrat, too, can tell; In which the wine and ale is good,

And of that Grot where Olives nod, "Twixt Newcastle and Holy-Rood.

Where, darling of each heart and eye, But that good man, as ill befalls,

From all the youth of Sicily, Hath seldom left our castle walls,

Saint Rosalie- retired to God.5

I See Appendix, Note ().

Himself still sleeps before his beads
Have mark'd ten aves, and two creeds.”_3

XXIV.
6 To stout Saint George of Norwich merry,
Saint Thomas, too, of Canterbury,
Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede,
For his sins' pardon hath he pray'd.
He knows the passes of the North,
And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth;
Little he eats, and long will wake,
And drinks but of the stream or lake.
This were a guide o'er moor and dale;
But, when our John hath quaff’d his ale,
As little as the wind that blows,
And warms itself against his nose,'
Kens he, or cares, which way he goes.”_2

XXVII.
-“ Let pass," quoth Marmion; “ by my

fay,
This man shall guide me on my way,
Although the great arch-fiend and he
Had sworn themselves of company.
So please you, gentle youth, to call
This Palmer4 to the Castle-hall.”
The summon'd Palmer came in place;
His sable cowl o'erhung his face;
In his black mantle was he clad,
With Peter's keys, in cloth of red,

On his broad shoulders wrought;
The scallop shell his cap did deck;
The crucifix around his neck

Was from Loretto brought;
His sandals were with travel tore,
Staff, budget, bottle, scrip, he wore;
The faded palm-branch in his hand
Show'd pilgrim from the Holy Land.5

XXV.
“ Gramercy!” quoth Lord Marmion,
“ Full loth were I, that Friar John,
That venerable man, for me,
Were placed in fear or jeopardy.
If this same Palmer will me lead

From hence to Holy-Rood,
Like his good saint, I'll pay his meed,
Instead of cockle-shell, or bead,

With angels fair and good.
I love such holy ramblers; still
They know to charm a weary hill,

With song, romance, or lay:
Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest,
Some lying legend, at the least,

They bring to cheer the way.”

XXVI.
« Ah! noble sir,” young Selby said,
And finger on his lip he laid,
“ This man knows much, perchance e'en more
Than he could learn by holy lore.
Still to himself he's muttering,
And shrinks as at some unseen thing.
Last night we listen'd at his cell;
Strange sounds we heard, and, sooth to tell,
He murmur'd on till morn, howe'er
No living mortal could be near.
Sometimes I thought I heard it plain,
As other voices spoke again.
I cannot tell—I like it not
Friar John hath told us it is wrote,
No conscience clear, and void of wrong,
Can rest awake, and pray so long.

XXVIII.
When as the Palmer came in hall,
Nor lord, nor knight, was there more tall,
Or had a statelier step withal,

Or look'd more high and keen;
For no saluting did he wait,
But strode across the hall of state,
And fronted Marmion where he sate,

As he his peer had been.
But his gaunt frame was worn with toil ;
His cheek was sunk, alas the while !
And when he struggled at a smile,

His eye look'd haggard wild:
Poor wretch! the mother that him bare,
If she had been in presence re,
In his wan face, and sun-burn'd hair,

She had not known her child.
Danger, long travel, want, or woe,
Soon change the form that best we know-
For deadly fear can time outgo,

And blanch at once the hair;
Hard toil can roughen form and face,?
And want can quench the eye's bright grace,
Nor does old age a wrinkle trace

More deeply than despair.

I MS.-"And with metheglin warm'd his nose,

offends in the same sort, nor can we easily conceive, how any As little as," &c.

one could venture, in a serious poem, to speak of

the wind that blows, ? " This poem has faults of too great magnitude to be pag

And warms itself against his nose.'"-JEFFREY.] sed without notice. There is a debasing lowness and vulgarity

3 See Appendix, Note R.

4 Ibid. Note S. in some passages, which we think must be offensive to every reader of delicacy, and which are not, for the most part, re- 8 " The first presentment of the mysterious Palmer is laud deemed by any vigour or picturesque effect. The venison able."-Jeffrey. pasties, we think, are of this description; and this commerno- 6 MS." And near Lord Marmion took his seat." ration of Sir Hugh Heron's troopers, who

7 MS.--"Hard toil can alter form and face, * Have drunk the monks of St. Bothan's ale,' &c.

roughen youthful grace, And want can quench

} the eyes of grace. The long account of Friar John, though not without merit,

dim

Happy whom none of these befall,

Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse : But this poor Palmer knew them all.

Then came the stirrup-cup in course:

Between the Baron and his host,
ΧΧΙΧ.

No point of courtesy was lost;
Lord Marmion then his boon did ask;

High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid, The Palmer took on him the task,

Solemn excuse the Captain made, So he would march with morning tide,

Till, filing from the gate, had pass'd To Scottish court to be his guide.

That noble train, their Lord the last. “ But I have solemn vows to pay,

Then loudly rung the trumpet call; And may not linger by the way,

Thunder'd the cannon from the wall, To fair St. Andrews bound,

And shook the Scottish shore; Within the ocean-cave to pray,

Around the castle eddied slow, Where good Saint Rule his holy lay,

Volumes of smoke as white as snow, From midnight to the dawn of day,

And hid its turrets hoar; Sung to the billows' sound ;3

Till they roll’d forth upon the air, Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well,

And met the river breezes there,
Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel,

Which gave again the prospect fair.
And the crazed brain restore: -
Saint Mary grant, that cave or spring
Could back to peace my bosom bring,
Or bid it throb no more !"

Marmion.

INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND

TO THE

XXX.
And now the midnight draught of sleep,
Where wine and spices richly steep,
In massive bowl of silver deep,

The page presents on knee.
Lord Marmion drank a fair good rest,
The Captain pledged his noble guest,
The cup went through among the rest,

Who drain'd it merrily;
Alone the Palmer pass'd it by,
Though Selby press’d him courteously.
This was a sign the feast was o'er ;
It hush'd the merry wassel roar,

The minstrels ceased to sound.
Soon in the castle nought was heard,
But the slow footstep of the guard,

Pacing his sober round.

REV. JOHN MARRIOTT, A. M.

Ashestid, Ettrick Forest.
The scenes are desert now, and bare,
Where flourish'd once a forest fair,
When these waste glens with copse were lined,
And peopled with the hart and hind.
Yon Thorn-perchance whose prickly spears
Have fenced him for three hundred years,
While fell around his green compeers-
Yon lonely Thorn, would he could tell
The changes of his parent dell,10
Since he, so grey and stubborn now,
Waved in each breeze a sapling bough;
Would he could tell how deep the shade
A thousand mingled branches made;
How broad the shadows of the oak,
How clung the rowan'l to the rock,
And through the foliage show'd his head,
With narrow leaves and berries red;

XXXI.
With early dawn Lord Marmion rose :
And first the chapel doors unclose;
Then, after morning rites were done,
(A hasty mass from Friar John,?)
And knight and squire had broke their fast,
On rich substantial repast,

1 MS.-"Happy whom none such woes befall."

10 "The secondepistle opens again with 'chance and change;" 2 MS.—" So he would ride with morning tide."

but it cannot be denied that the mode in which it is intro3 See Appendix, Note T. 4 Ibid. Note U.

duced is new and poetical. The comparison of Ettrick Fo

rest, now open and naked, with the state in which it once was 5 MS.—“The cup pass'd round among the rest."

-covered with wood, the favourite resort of the royal hunt, 6 MS.—“Soon died the merry wassel roar."

and the refuge of daring outlaws-leads the poet to imagine 7 “ In Catholic countries, in order to reconcile the plea- an ancient thorn gifted with the powers of reason, and relating sures of the great with the observances of religion, it was com- the various scenes which it has witnessed during a period of mon, when a party was bent for the chase, to celebrate mass, three hundred years. A melancholy train of fancy is natoabridged and maimed of its rites, called a hunting-mass, the rally encouraged by the idea. "--Monthly Review. brevity of which was designed to correspond with the impatience of the audience." - Note to “ The Abbot." Nero Edit.

11 Mountain-ash. 8 MS.—" Slow they roll'd forth upon the air."

MS.-" How broad the ash his shadows flung, See Appendix, Note V.

How to the rock the rowan clung."

1 See Notes to the Lay of the Last Minstrel.

6 Mr. Marriott was governor to the young nobleman here 2 Slowhound.

alluded to, George Henry, Lord Scott, son to Charles, Earl of

Dalkeith, (afterwards Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry,) 3 The Tale of the Outlaw Murray, who held out Newark and who died early in 1908.—See Life of Scott, vol. iii. pp. 59-61. Castle and Ettrick Forest against the King, may be found in the Border Minstrelsy, vol. i. In the Macfarlane M8., among

6 The four next lines on Harriet, Countess of Dalkeith, afother causes of James the Fifth's charter to the burgh of sel-terwards Duchess of Buccleuch, were not in the original Ms. kirk, is mentioned, that the citizens assisted him to suppress 7 The late Alexander Pringle, Esq., of Whytbank—whose this dangerous outlaw.

beautiful seat of the Yair stands on the Tweed, about two * A seat of the Duke of Buccleuch on the Yarrow, in Et-miles below Asł stiel, the then residence of the poet trick Forest See Notes to the Lay of the Last Minstrel. 8 The sons of r. Pringle of Whytbank.