Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/103

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CANTO III.
73
That answer he found none.230Thus oft it haps, that when withinThey shrink at sense of secret sin,A feather daunts the brave;A fool's wild speech confounds the wise,And proudest princes vail their eyes235Before their meanest slave.
XV.Well might he falter!—By his aidWas Constance Beverley betray'd.Not that he augur'd of the doom,Which on the living closed the tomb:240But, tired to hear the desperate maidThreaten by turns, beseech, upbraid;And wroth, because, in wild despair,She practised on the life of Clare;Its fugitive the Church he gave,245Though not a victim, but a slave;And deem'd restraint in convent strangeWould hide her wrongs, and her revenge,Himself, proud Henry's favourite peer,Held Romish thunders idle fear,250Secure his pardon he might hold,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 page255Was left behind, to spare his age;Or other if they deem'd, none daredTo mutter what he thought and heard:Woe to the vassal, who durst pryInto Lord Marmion's privacy!
XVI.260His conscience slept—he deem'd her well,And safe secured in yonder cell;But, waken'd by her favourite lay,And that strange Palmer's boding say,