Marmion

Though not a victim, but a slave;                          245
And deem’d restraint in convent strange
Would hide her wrongs, and her revenge,
Himself, proud Henry’s favourite peer,
Held Romish thunders idle fear,
Secure his pardon he might hold,                          250
For some slight mulct of penance-gold.
Thus judging, he gave secret way,
When the stern priests surprised their prey.
His train but deem’d the favourite page
Was left behind, to spare his age;                        255
Or other if they deem’d, none dared
To mutter what he thought and heard:
Woe to the vassal, who durst pry
Into Lord Marmion’s privacy!

XVI

His conscience slept-he deem’d her well,                  260
And safe secured in yonder cell;
But, waken’d by her favourite lay,
And that strange Palmer’s boding say,
That fell so ominous and drear,
Full on the object of his fear,                            265
To aid remorse’s venom’d throes,
Dark tales of convent-vengeance rose;
And Constance, late betray’d and scorn’d,
All lovely on his soul return’d;
Lovely as when, at treacherous call,                      270
She left her convent’s peaceful wall,
Crimson’d with shame, with terror mute,
Dreading alike escape, pursuit,
Till love, victorious o’er alarms,
Hid fears and blushes in his arms.                        275

XVII

‘Alas!’ he thought, ‘how changed that mien!
How changed these timid looks have been,
Since years of guilt, and of disguise,
Have steel’d her brow, and arm’d her eyes!
No more of virgin terror speaks                            280
The blood that mantles in her cheeks;
Fierce, and unfeminine, are there,
Frenzy for joy, for grief despair;
And I the cause-for whom were given
Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven! –                 285
Would,’ thought he, as the picture grows,
‘I on its stalk had left the rose!
Oh, why should man’s success remove
The very charms that wake his love! -
Her convent’s peaceful solitude                            290
Is now a prison harsh and rude;
And, pent within the narrow cell,
How will her spirit chafe and swell!
How brook the stern monastic laws!
The penance how-and I the cause! –                         295
Vigil, and scourge-perchance even worse!’-
And twice he rose to cry, ‘To horse!’
And twice his Sovereign’s mandate came,
Like damp upon a kindling flame;
And twice he thought, ‘Gave I not charge                  300
She should be safe, though not at large?
They durst not, for their island, shred
One golden ringlet from her head.’

XVIII

While thus in Marmion’s bosom strove
Repentance and reviving love,                              305
Like whirlwinds, whose contending sway
I’ve seen Loch Vennachar obey,
Their Host the Palmer’s speech had heard,
And, talkative, took up the word:
‘Ay, reverend Pilgrim, you, who stray                    310
From Scotland’s simple land away,
To visit realms afar,
Full often learn the art to know
Of future weal, or future woe,
By word, or sign, or star;                              315
Yet might a knight his fortune hear,
If, knight-like, he despises fear,
Not far from hence; – if fathers old
Aright our hamlet legend told.’-
These broken words the menials move,
(For marvels still the vulgar love,)                      320
And, Marmion giving license cold,
His tale the host thus gladly told: -

XIX

The Host’s Tale
‘A Clerk could tell what years have flown
Since Alexander fill’d our throne,                        325
(Third monarch of that warlike name,)
And eke the time when here he came
To seek Sir Hugo, then our lord:
A braver never drew a sword;
A wiser never, at the hour                                330
Of midnight, spoke the word of power: