THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ Did noble Howard hold;

       Unarmed by her side he walk’d,

       And much, in courteous phrase, they talk’d

       Of feats of arms of old.

       Costly his garb; his Flemish ruff

       Fell o’er his doublet, shap’d of buff,

       With satin slash’d and lin’d;

       Tawny his boot, and gold his spur,

       His cloak was all of Poland fur,

       His hose with silver twin’d;

       His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt,

       Hung in a broad and studded belt;

       Hence, in rude phrase, the Borderers still

       Call’d noble Howard, Belted Will.

       XVII

      Behind Lord Howard and the Dame,

       Fair Margaret on her palfrey came,

       Whose footcloth swept the ground:

       White was her wimple, and her veil,

       And her loose locks a chaplet pale

       Of whitest roses bound;

       The lordly Angus, by her side,

       In courtesy to cheer her tried;

       Without his aid, her hand in vain

       Had strove to guide her broider’d rein.

       He deem’d she shudder’d at the sight

       Of warriors met for mortal fight;

       But cause of terror, all unguess’d,

       Was fluttering in her gentle breast,

       When, in their chairs of crimson plac’d,

       The Dame and she the barriers grac’d.

       XVIII

      Prize of the field, the young Buccleuch,

       An English knight led forth to view;

       Scarce rued the boy his present plight,

       So much he long’d to see the fight.

       Within the lists, in knightly pride,

       High Home and haughty Dacre ride;

       Their leading staffs of steel they wield

       As marshals of the mortal field;

       While to each knight their care assign’d

       Like vantage of the sun and wind.

       Then heralds hoarse did loud proclaim,

       In King and Queen and Warden’s name

       That none, while lasts the strife,

       Should dare, by look, or sign, or word,

       Aid to a champion to afford,

       On peril of his life;

       And not a breath the silence broke,

       Till thus the alternate Heralds spoke:

       XIX

      English Herald

       “Here standeth Richard of Musgrave,

       Good knight and true, and freely born,

       Amends from Deloraine to crave,

       For foul despiteous scathe and scorn.

       He sayeth that William of Deloraine

       Is traitor false by Border laws;

       This with his sword he will maintain,

       So help him God, and his good cause!”

       XX

      Scottish Herald

       “Here standeth William of Deloraine,

       Good knight and true, of noble strain,

       Who sayeth that foul treason’s stain,

       Since he bore arms, ne’er soil’d his coat;

       And that, so help him God above!

       He will on Musgrave’s body prove,

       He lies most foully in his throat.”

       Lord Dacre

       “Forward, brave champions, to the fight!

       Sound trumpets!”

       Lord Home

       “God defend the right!”

       Then, Teviot! how thine echoes rang,

       When bugle-sound and trumpet-clang

       Let loose the martial foes,

       And in mid list, with shield pois’d high,

       And measur’d step and wary eye,

       The combatants did close.

       XXI

      Ill would it suit your gentle ear,

       Ye lovely listeners, to hear

       How to the axe the helms did sound,

       And blood pour’d down from many a wound;

       For desperate was the strife and long,

       And either warrior fierce and strong.

       But, were each dame a listening knight,

       I well could tell how warriors fight!

       For I have seen war’s lightning flashing,

       Seen the claymore with bayonet clashing,

       Seen through red blood the warhorse dashing,

       And scorn’d, amid the reeling strife,

       To yield a step for death or life.

       XXII

      ‘Tis done, ‘tis done! that fatal blow

       Has stretch d him on the bloody plain;

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