Displeased was James, that stranger view’d
And tamper’d with his changing mood. 
‘Laugh those that can, weep those that may,’
Thus did the fiery Monarch say,
’Southward I march by break of day; 480
And if within Tantallon strong,
The good Lord Marmion tarries long,
Perchance our meeting next may fall
At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.’—­
The haughty Marmion felt the taunt, 485
And answer’d, grave, the royal vaunt: 
’Much honour’d were my humble home,
If in its halls King James should come;
But Nottingham has archers good,
And Yorkshire men are stem of mood; 490
Northumbrian prickers wild and rude. 
On Derby Hills the paths are steep;
In Ouse and Tyne the fords are deep;
And many a banner will be torn,
And many a knight to earth be borne, 495
And many a sheaf of arrows spent,
Ere Scotland’s King shall cross the Trent: 
Yet pause, brave Prince, while yet you may!’—­
The Monarch lightly turn’d away,
And to his nobles loud did call,—­ 500
‘Lords, to the dance,—­a hall! a hall!’
Himself his cloak and sword flung by,
And led Dame Heron gallantly;
And Minstrels, at the royal order,
Rung out—­’Blue Bonnets o’er the Border.’ 505

XVIII.

Leave we these revels now, to tell
What to Saint Hilda’s maids befell,
Whose galley, as they sail’d again
To Whitby, by a Scot was ta’en. 
Now at Dun-Edin did they bide, 510
Till James should of their fate decide;
  And soon, by his command,
Were gently summon’d to prepare
To journey under Marmion’s care,
As escort honour’d, safe, and fair, 515
  Again to English land. 
The Abbess told her chaplet o’er,
Nor knew which Saint she should implore;
For, when she thought of Constance, sore
  She fear’d Lord Marmion’s mood. 520
And judge what Clara must have felt! 
The sword, that hung in Marmion’s belt,
  Had drunk De Wilton’s blood. 
Unwittingly, King James had given,
  As guard to Whitby’s shades, 525
The man most dreaded under heaven
  By these defenceless maids: 
Yet what petition could avail,
Or who would listen to the tale
Of woman, prisoner, and nun, 530
Mid bustle of a war begun? 
They deem’d it hopeless to avoid
The convoy of their dangerous guide.

XIX.