THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ “Welcome to Norham, Marmion!

       Stout heart, and open hand!

       Well dost thou brook thy gallant roan,

       Thou flower of English land!”

       XI

      Two pursuivants, whom tabarts deck,

       With silver scutcheon round their neck,

       Stood on the steps of stone,

       By which you reach the donjon gate,

       And there, with herald pomp and state,

       They hailed Lord Marmion:

       They hailed him Lord of Fontenaye,

       Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye,

       Of Tamworth tower and town;

       And he, their courtesy to requite,

       Gave them a chain of twelve marks’ weight,

       All as he lighted down.

       “Now, largesse, largesse, Lord Marmion,

       Knight of the crest of gold!

       A blazoned shield, in battle won,

       Ne’er guarded heart so bold.”

       XII

      They marshalled him to the castle-hall,

       Where the guests stood all aside,

       And loudly flourished the trumpet-call,

       And the heralds loudly cried -

       “Room, lordlings, room for Lord Marmion,

       With the crest and helm of gold!

       Full well we know the trophies won

       In the lists at Cottiswold:

       There, vainly Ralph de Wilton strove

       ‘Gainst Marmion’s force to stand;

       To him he lost his lady-love,

       And to the king his land.

       Ourselves beheld the listed field,

       A sight both sad and fair;

       We saw Lord Marmion pierce his shield,

       And saw his saddle bare;

       We saw the victor win the crest

       He wears with worthy pride;

       And on the gibbet-tree, reversed,

       His foeman’s scutcheon tied.

       Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight!

       Room, room, ye gentles gay,

       For him who conquered in the right,

       Marmion of Fontenaye!”

       XIII

      Then stepped, to meet that noble lord,

       Sir Hugh the Heron bold,

       Baron of Twisell and of Ford,

       And captain of the hold.

       He led Lord Marmion to the dais,

       Raised o’er the pavement high,

       And placed him in the upper place -

       They feasted full and high:

       The whiles a Northern harper rude

       Chanted a rhyme of deadly feud,

       “How the fierce Thirwalls, and Ridleys all,

       Stout Willimondswick,

       and hardriding dick,

       and hughie of hawdon, and will o’ the wall,

       have set on Sir Albany Featherstonhaugh,

       and taken his life at the deadman’s-shaw.”

       Scantly Lord Marmion’s ear could brook

       The harper’s barbarous lay;

       Yet much he praised the pains he took,

       And well those pains did pay:

       For lady’s suit and minstrel’s strain,

       By knight should ne’er be heard in vain.

       XIV

      “Now, good Lord Marmion,” Heron says,

       “Of your fair courtesy,

       I pray you bide some little space

       In this poor tower with me.

       Here may you keep your arms from rust,

       May breathe your warhorse well;

       Seldom hath passed a week but just

       Or feat of arms befell:

       The Scots can rein a mettled steed,

       And love to couch a spear;

       St. George! a stirring life they lead,

       That have such neighbours near.

       Then stay with us a little space,

       Our Northern wars to learn;

       I pray you for your lady’s grace!”

       Lord Marmion’s brow grew stern.

       XV

      The captain marked his altered look,

       And gave a squire the sign;

       A mighty wassail-bowl he took,

       And crowned it high with wine.

       “Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion:

       But first I pray thee fair,

       Where hast thou left that page of thine,

       That used to serve thy cup of wine,

       Whose beauty was so rare?

       When last in Raby towers we met,

       The boy I closely eyed,

       And often marked his cheeks were wet,

       СКАЧАТЬ