Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/170

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MARMION.
XXIX.835And now, when close at hand they sawNorth Berwick's town, and lofty Law,Fitz-Eustace bade them pause a while,Before a venerable pile, Whose turrets view'd, afar,840The lofty Bass, the Lambie Isle, The ocean's peace or war.At tolling of a bell, forth cameThe convent's venerable Dame,And pray'd Saint Hilda's Abbess rest845With her, a loved and honour'd guest,Till Douglas should a bark prepareTo wait her back to Whitby fair.Glad was the Abbess, you may guess,And thank'd the Scottish Prioress;850And tedious were to tell, I ween,The courteous speech that pass'd between. O'erjoy'd the nuns their palfreys leave;But when fair Clara did intend,Like them, from horseback to descend,855 Fitz-Eustace said,—'I grieve,Fair lady, grieve e'en from my heart,Such gentle company to part;— Think not discourtesy,But lords' commands must be obey'd;860And Marmion and the Douglas said, That you must wend with me.Lord Marmion hath a letter broad,Which to the Scottish Earl he show'd,Commanding, that, beneath his care,865Without delay, you shall repairTo your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.'
XXX.The startled Abbess loud exclaim'd;But she, at whom the blow was aim'd,
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