Perchance you may a marvel deem,
  That Marmion’s paramour
(For such vile thing she was) should scheme 665
  Her lover’s nuptial hour;
But o’er him thus she hoped to gain,
As privy to his honour’s stain,
  Illimitable power: 
For this she secretly retain’d 670
  Each proof that might the plot reveal,
  Instructions with his hand and seal;
And thus Saint Hilda deign’d,
  Through sinners’ perfidy impure,
  Her house’s glory to secure, 675
And Clare’s immortal weal.

XXIV.

’Twere long, and needless, here to tell,
How to my hand these papers fell;
  With me they must not stay. 
Saint Hilda keep her Abbess true! 680
Who knows what outrage he might do,
  While journeying by the way?—­
O, blessed Saint, if e’er again
I venturous leave thy calm domain,
To travel or by land or main, 685
  Deep penance may I pay!—­
Now, saintly Palmer, mark my prayer: 
I give this packet to thy care,
For thee to stop they will not dare;
And O! with cautious speed, 690
To Wolsey’s hand the papers ’bring,
That he may show them to the King: 
  And, for thy well-earn’d meed,
Thou holy man, at Whitby’s shrine
A weekly mass shall still be thine, 695
  While priests can sing and read.-
What ail’st thou?—­Speak!’—­For as he took
The charge, a strong emotion shook
  His frame; and, ere reply,
They heard a faint, yet shrilly tone, 700
Like distant clarion feebly blown,
  That on the breeze did die;
And loud the Abbess shriek’d in fear,
’Saint Withold, save us!—­What is here! 
  Look at yon City Cross! 705
See on its battled tower appear
Phantoms, that scutcheons seem to rear,
And blazon’d banners toss!’—­

XXV.

Dun-Edin’s Cross, a pillar’d stone,
Rose on a turret octagon; 710
  (But now is razed that monument,
    Whence royal edict rang,
  And voice of Scotland’s law was sent
    In glorious trumpet-clang. 
O! be his tomb as lead to lead, 715
Upon its dull destroyer’s head!—­
A minstrel’s malison is said.)—­
Then on its battlements they saw
A vision, passing Nature’s law,
  Strange, wild, and dimly seen; 720
Figures that seem’d to rise and die,
Gibber and sign, advance and fly,
While nought confirm’d could ear or eye
  Discern of sound or mien. 
Yet darkly did it seem, as there 725
Heralds and Pursuivants prepare,
With trumpet sound, and blazon fair,
  A summons to proclaim;