Freely he spoke of war, Of marvels wrought by single hand, And still look'd high, as if he plann'd His courser would he feed and stroke, A steed so fairly ride. XXVIII. OME half-hour's march behind, there came, By Eustace govern'd fair, A troop escorting Hilda's Dame, With all her nuns, and Clare. No audience had Lord Marmion sought; Ever he fear'd to aggravate Clara de Clare's suspicious hate; And safer 'twas, he thought, To wait till, from the nuns removed, The influence of kinsmen loved, His was no flickering flame, that dies He long'd to stretch his wide com mand O'er luckless Clara's ample land: Besides, when Wilton with him vied, Which made him burst through honour's laws. If e'er he lov'd, 'twas her alone, Who died within that vault of stone. XXIX. ND now, when close at hand they saw North Berwick's town, and lofty Law, Fitz-Eustace bade them pause a while, Before a venerable pile, Whose turrets view'd, afar, The lofty Bass, the Lambie Isle, At tolling of a bell, forth came The courteous speech that pass'd between. Like them, from horseback to descend, But lords' commands must be obey'd; That you must wend with me. To your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare." XXX. HE startled Abbess loud exclaim'd; But she, at whom the blow was aim'd, Grew pale as death, and cold as lead,—— She deem'd she heard her death-doom read. "Cheer thee, my child!" the Abbess said, 66 They dare not tear thee from my hand, To ride alone with armed band.”— Nay, holy mother, nay," Fitz-Eustace said, "the lovely Clare In Scotland while we stay ; And, when we move, an easy ride Nor thinks, nor dreams, my noble lord, To harass Lady Clare. Her faithful guardian he will be, Till he shall place her, safe and free, He spoke, and blush'd with earnest grace; To curse with candle, bell, and book. |