Her faithful guardian he will be, Nor sue for slightest courtesy

That e'en to stranger falls,

Till he shall place her, safe and free,
Within her kinsman's halls."

He spoke, and blush'd with carnest grace;
His faith was painted on his face,

And Clare's worst fear relieved.
The Lady Abbess loud exclaim'd
On Henry, and the Douglas blamed,
Entreated, threaten'd, grieved;
To martyr, saint, and prophet pray'd,
Against Lord Marmion inveigh'd,
And call'd the Prioress to aid,

To curse with candle, bell, and book.
Her head the grave Cistertian shook:
"The Douglas, and the King," she said,
"In their commands will be obey'd;
Grieve not, nor dream that harm can fall
The maiden in Tantallon hall."

XXXI.

The Abbess, seeing strife was vain,
Assumed her wonted state again,-

For much of state she had,-
Composed her veil, and raised her head,
And Bid," in solemn voice she said,
"Thy master, bold and bad,
The records of his house turn o'er,

And, when he shall there written see,
That one of his own ancestry
Drove the Monks forth of Coventry,
Bid him his fate explore!

Prancing in pride of earthly trust,
His charger hurl'd him to the dust,
And, by a base plebeian thrust,
He died his band before.

God judge 'twixt Marmion and me;
He is a Chief of high degree,

And I a poor recluse;

Yet oft, in holy writ, we see
Even such weak minister as me
May the oppressor bruise:

For thus, inspired, did Judith slay
The mighty in his sin,

And Jael thus, and Deborah "-
Here hasty Blount broke in:
"Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band;
St. Anton' fire thee! wilt thou stand
All day, with bonnet in thy hand,
To hear the Lady preach?
By this good light! if thus we stay,
Lord Marmion, for our fond delay,

Will sharper sermon teach.

Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse; The Dame must patience take perforce."

1 This relates to the catastrophe of a real Robert de Mar mion, in the reign of King Stephen, whom William of Newbury describes with some attributes of my fictitious hero: "Homo bellicosus, ferocia, et astucia, fere nullo suo

tempore impar." This Baron, having expelled the Monks

from the church of Coventry, was not long of experiencing the divine judgment, as the same monks, no doubt, termed his disaster. Having waged a feudal war with the Earl of Chester, Marmion's horse fell, as he charged in the van of his troop, against a body of the Earl's followers: the rider's thigh being broken by the fall, his head was cut off by a common foot soldier, ere he could receive any succour. The whole story is told by William of Newbury.

XXXII.

Submit we then to force," said Clare, "But let this barbarous lord despair His purposed aim to win;

Let him take living, land, and life;
But to be Marmion's wedded wife
In me were deadly sin:

And if it be the King's decree,
That I must find no sanctuary,

In that inviolable dome,

Where even a homicide might come,

And safely rest his head,

Though at its open portals stood,

Thirsting to pour forth blood for blood,
The kinsmen of the dead;
Yet one asylum is my own
Against the dreaded hour;
A low, a silent, and a lone,

Where kings have little power.
One victim is before me there.-
Mother, your blessing, and in prayer
Remember your unhappy Clare!
Loud weeps the Abbess, and bestows
Kind blessings many a one:
Weeping and wailing loud arose,
Round patient Clare, the clamorous woes

Of every simple nun.

His eyes the gentle Eustace dried,

And scarce rude Blount the sight could bide.
Then took the squire her rein,

And gently led away her steed,
And, by each courteous word and deed,
To cheer her strove in vain.

XXXIII.

But scant three miles the band had rode,
When o'er a height they pass'd,

And, sudden, close before them show'd
His towers, Tantallon vast;
Broad, massive, high, and stretching far,
And held impregnable in war.

On a projecting rock they rose,

And round three sides the ocean flows,
The fourth did battled walls enclose,
And double mound and fosse.

By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong.
Through studded gates, an entrance long,
To the main court they cross.
It was a wide and stately square:
Around were lodgings, fit and fair,
And towers of various form,
Which on the court projected far,
And broke its lines quadrangular.
Here was square keep, there turret high,
Or pinnacle that sought the sky,
Whence oft the Warder could descry
The gathering ocean-storm.

XXXIV.

Here did they rest.-The princely care
Of Douglas, why should I declare,
Or say they met reception fair?

Or why the tidings say,
Which, varying, to Tantallon came,
By hurrying posts, or fleeter fame,
With every varying day?

And, first, they heard King James had won
Etall, and Wark, and Ford; and then,
That Norham Castle strong was ta'en.
At that sore marvell'd Marmion ;---
And Douglas hoped his Monarch's hand
Would soon subdue Northumberland:
But whisper'd news there came,
That, while his host inactive lay,
And melted by degrees away,

King James was dallying off the day
With Heron's wily dame.-
Such acts to chronicles I yield;
Go seek them there, and see:
Mine is a tale of Flodden Field,
And not a history.-

At length they heard the Scottish host
On that high ridge had made their post,
Which frowns o'er Millfield Plain;
And that brave Surrey many a band
Had gather'd in the Southern land,
And march'd into Northumberland,
And camp at Wooler ta'en.
Marmion, like charger in the stall,
That hears, without, the trumpet-call,
Began to chafe, and swear:-
"A sorry thing to hide my head
In castle, like a fearful maid,

When such a field is near!
Needs must I see this battle-day:
Death to my fame if such a fray
Were fought, and Marmion away!
The Douglas, too, I wot not why,
Hath 'bated of his courtesy:
No longer in his halls I'll stay."
Then bade his band they should array
For march against the dawning day.

INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH.

ΤΟ

RICHARD HEBER, ESQ.

Mertoun-House, Christmas.

HEAP on more wood!-the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Each age has deem'd the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer:
Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane
At lol more deep the mead did drain ;1
High on the beach his galleys drew,
And feasted all his pirate crew;

1 The lol of the heathen Danes (a word still applied to Christmas in Scotland) was solemnized with great fes tity. The humour of the Danes at table displayed itself in pelting each other with bones; and Torfæus tells a loug and curious tory, in the History of Hrolfe Kraka, of one Hotins, an innate of the Court of Denmark, who was so generally assailed with these missiles, that he constructed, out of the bones with which he was overwhelmed, a very respectable intrenchment, against those who continued the raillery. The dances of the northern warriors round the great fires of pine-trees, are cominemorated by Olaus Magnus, who says, they danced with such fury, holding eachother by the bands, that, if the grasp of any failed. he was patched into the fire with the velocity of a sling. The sufferer, on such occasions, was instantly plucked out, and obliged to quaff off a certain ineasure of ale, as a penalty for "spoiling the king's fire."

Then in his low and pine-built hall,
Where shields and axes deck'd the wall,
They gorged upon the half-dress'd steer;
Caroused in seas of sable beer;
While round, in brutal jest, were thrown
The half-gnaw'd rib, and marrow-bone,
Or listen'd all, in grim delight,
While scalds yell'd out the joys of fight.
Then forth, in frenzy, would they hic,
While wildly-loose their red locks fly,
And dancing round the blazing pile,
They make such barbarous mirth the while,
As best might to the mind recall
The boisterous joys of Odin's hall.

And well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had roll'd, And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all his hospitable train.

Domestic and religious rite

Gave honour to the holy night;

On Christmas eve the bells were rung;
On Christmas eve the inass was sung:
That only night in all the year,
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.1
The damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen;
The hall was dress'd with holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry-men go,
To gather in the misletoe.

Then open'd wide the Baron's hall
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And Ceremony doff'd his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,
That night might village partner choose;
The Lord, underogating, share
The vulgar game of "post and pair."
All hail'd, with uncontroll'd delight,
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.

1 In Roman Catholic countries, mass is never said at night, except on Christmas eve. Each of the frolics with which that holyday used to be celebrated, might admit of a long and curious note; but I shall content inyself with the following description of Christmas, and his attributes, as personified in one of Ben Jonson's Masques for the Court.

"Enter CHRISTMAS, with two or three of the Guard. He is attired in round hose, long stockings, a close doublet, a high-crowned hat, with a brooch, a long thin beard, a truncheon, little ruffs, white shoes, his scarfs and garters tied cross, and his drum beaten before him.-The names of his children, with their attires: Miss-Rule, in a velvet cap, with a sprig, a short cloak, great yellow ruff, like a reveller; his torch-bearer bearing a rope, a cheese, and a basket-Caroll, a long tawny coat, with a red cap, and a flute at his girdle; his torch-bearer carrying a song-book open-Mine'd-pie, like a fine cook's wife, drest neat, her man carrying a pie, dish, and spoons;-Gamboll, like a tumbler, with a hoop and bells his torch-bearer arm'd with cole-staff, and blinding cloth; -Post and Pair, with a pair-royal of aces in his hat, bis garment all done over with pairs and purs: his squire carrying a box, cards, and counters;-New-year's-Gift, in a blue coat, serving-man like, with an orange, and a sprig of rosemary gilt on his head, his hat full of brooches, with a collar of gingerbread; his torch-bearer carrying a march-pam, with a bottle of wine on either arm;-Mumming, in a masquing pied suit, with a visor; his torch-bearer carrying the box, and ringing it-Wassal, like a neat sempster and songster; her page bearing a brown bowl, drest with ribbands, and rosemary, before her:-Offering, in a short gown, with a porter's staff in his hand; a wyth borne before him, and a bason, by his torch-bearer;-Baby Cocke, drest like a boy, in a fine long coat, biggin, lb, muckender, and a little dagger; his usher bearing a great cake, with a bean and a pease.

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied,
Went roaring up the chimney wide;
The huge hall-table's oaken face,
Scrubb'd till it shone, the day to grace,
Bore then upon its massive board
No mark to part the squire and lord.
Then was brought in the lusty brawn,
By old blue-coated serving-man;
Then the grim boar's head frown'd on high,
Crested with bays and rosemary.
Well can the green-garb'd ranger tell,
How, when, and where, the monster fell;
What dogs before his death he tore,
And all the baiting of the boar.

The wassel round, in good brown bowls,
Garnish'd with ribbons, blithely trowls.
There the huge sirloin reek'd; hard by
Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie;
Nor fail'd old Scotland to produce,
At such high tide, her savoury goose.
Then came the merry maskers in,
And carols roar'd with blithesome din;
If unmelodious was the song,
It was a hearty note, and strong.
Who lists may in their mumming sco
Traces of ancient mystery;1
White shirts supplied the masquerade,
And smutted checks the visors made;
But, O! what maskers, richly dight,
Can boast of bosoms half so light!
England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
"Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
"Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.

Still linger, in our northern clime,
Some remnants of the good old time;
And still, within our valleys here,
We hold the kindred title dear,
Even when, perchance, its far-fetch'd claim
To Southron ear sounds empty name;

1 It seems certain, that the Mummers of England, who (in Northumberland at least) used to go about in disguise to the neighbouring houses, bearing the then useless ploughshare; and the Guisards of Scotland, not yet in total disuse, present, in some indistinct degree, a shadow of the old mysteries, which were the origin of the English drama. In Scotland, (me ipso teste,) we were wont, during my boyhood, to take the characters of the apostles, at least of Peter, Paul, and Judas Iscariot; the first had the

keys, the second carried a sword, and the last the bag. in which the dole of our neighbours' plum-cake was deposited. One played a champion, and recited some traditional rhymes; another was

"Alexander, King of Macedon, Who conquer'd all the world but Scotland alone: When he came to Scotland his courage grew cold, To see a little nation courageous and bold." These, and many such verses, were repeated, but by rote. and unconnectedly. There was also, occasionally, I believe, a Saint George. In all, there was a confused resemblance of the ancient mysteries, in which the characters of Scripture, the Nine Worthies, and other popular perBonages, were usually exhibited. It were inch to be wished that the Chester Mysteries were published from the MS. in the Museum, with the aunotations which a diligent investigator of popular antiquities might still supply. The late acute and valuable antiquary, Mr. Ritson, showed me several memoranda towards such a task, which are probably now dispersed or lost. See, however, his Remarks on Shakspeare, 1783, p. 38.

Since the first edition of Marmion "appeared, this subject has received much elucidation from the learned and extensive labours of Mr. Donce; and the Chester Mysteries have been printed in a style of great elegance and ac curacy, (in 1818,) by Bensley and Sons, London, for the Roxburghe Club. 1830.

In these dear halls, where welcome kind Is with fair liberty combined; Where cordial friendship gives the hand, And flies constraint the magic wand Of the fair dame that rules the land. Little we heed the tempest drear, While music, mirth, and social cheer, Speed on their wings the passing year. And Mertoun's halls are fair e'en now, When not a leaf is on the bough. Tweed loves them well, and turns again, As loath to leave the sweet domain, And holds his mirror to her face, And clips her with a close embrace:Gladly as he, we seek the dome, And as reluctant turn us home.

"3

How just that, at this time of glee,` My thoughts should, Heber, turn to thee! For many a merry hour we've known, And heard the chimes of midnight's tone. Cease, then, my friend! a moment cease, And leave these classic tomes in peace! Of Roman and of Grecian lore, Sure mortal brain can hold no more. These ancients, as Noll Bluff might say, Were "pretty fellows in their day; But time and tide o'er all prevailOn Christmas eve a Christinas taleOf wonder and of war-" Profane! What! leave the lofty Latian strain, Her stately prose, her verse's charms, To hear the clash of rusty arms: In Fairy Land or Limbo lost, To jostle conjurer and ghost, Goblin and witch!"- -Nay, Heber dear, Before you touch my charter, hear; Though Leyden aids, alas! no more, My cause with many-languaged lore, This I say:-in realms of death may Ulysses meets Alcides' wraith; Eneas, upon Thracia's shore, The ghost of murder'd Polydore; For omens, we in Livy cross, At every turn, locutus Bos. As grave and duly speaks that ox, As if he told the price of stocks; Or held, in Rome Republican, The place of Common-councilman.

"Blood is warmer than water."- a proverb meant to vindicate our family predilections. 2 See Note O.

3 Hannibal was a pretty fellow, sir-a very pretty fellow in his day."-Old Bachelor.