Their lodging, so the King assign’d,
To Marmion’s, as their guardian, join’d; 535
And thus it fell, that, passing nigh,
The Palmer caught the Abbess’ eye,
  Who warn’d him by a scroll,
She had a secret to reveal,
That much concern’d the Church’s weal, 540
  And health of sinner’s soul;
And, with deep charge of secrecy,
  She named a place to meet,
Within an open balcony,
That hung from dizzy pitch, and high, 545
  Above the stately street;
To which, as common to each home,
At night they might in secret come.

XX.

At night, in secret, there they came,
The Palmer and the holy dame. 550
The moon among the clouds rose high,
And all the city hum was by. 
Upon the street, where late before
Did din of war and warriors roar,
  You might have heard a pebble fall, 555
A beetle hum, a cricket sing,
An owlet flap his boding wing
  On Giles’s steeple tall. 
The antique buildings, climbing high,
Whose Gothic frontlets sought the sky, 560
  Were here wrapt deep in shade;
There on their brows the moon-beam broke,
Through the faint wreaths of silvery smoke,
  And on the casements play’d. 
  And other light was none to see, 565
    Save torches gliding far,
  Before some chieftain of degree,
  Who left the royal revelry
    To bowne him for the war.—­
A solemn scene the Abbess chose; 570
A solemn hour, her secret to disclose.

XXI.

‘O, holy Palmer!’ she began,—­
’For sure he must be sainted man,
Whose blessed feet have trod the ground
Where the Redeemer’s tomb is found,—­ 575
For His dear Church’s sake, my tale
Attend, nor deem of light avail,
Though I must speak of worldly love,—­
How vain to those who wed above!—­
De Wilton and Lord Marmion woo’d 580
Clara de Clare, of Gloster’s blood;
(Idle it were of Whitby’s dame,
To say of that same blood I came;)
And once, when jealous rage was high,
Lord Marmion said despiteously, 585
Wilton was traitor in his heart,
And had made league with Martin Swart,
When he came here on Simnel’s part;
And only cowardice did restrain
His rebel aid on Stokefield’s plain,—­ 590
And down he threw his glove:—­the thing
Was tried, as wont, before the King;
Where frankly did De Wilton own,
That Swart in Guelders he had known;
And that between them then there went 595
Some scroll of courteous compliment. 
For this he to his castle sent;
But when his messenger return’d,