I swore to bury his Mighty Book, Lo, Warrior! now the Cross of Red 60 To chase the spirits that love the night;- 70 Until the eternal doom shall be." Slow moved the Monk to the broad flag-stone He pointed to a secret nook; An iron bar the Warrior took; And the Monk made a sign with his withered hand, With beating heart to the task he went; With bar of iron heaved amain, His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone bent; 80 Till the toil-drops fell from his brows, like rain. It was by dint of passing strength That he moved the massy stone at length. I would you had been there, to see Shewed the Monk's cowl, and visage pale, Before their eyes the Wizard lay, The lamp was placed beside his knee. From the cold hand the Mighty Book, He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned; 90 100 But the glare of the sepulchral light, And many a prayer and penance sped: He was glad when he passed the tombstones grey For the Mystic Book, to his bosom pressed, III. The sun had brightened Cheviot grey, The sun had brightened the Carter's side; 12 And soon beneath the rising day Smiled Branksome towers and Teviot's tide.— Why does fair Margaret so early awake, And don her kirtle so hastilie; 110 And the silken knots, which in hurry she would make, Why tremble her slender fingers to tie? The Ladye steps in doubt and dread, Lest her watchful mother hear her tread; To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight.- 120 And she glides through the greenwood at dawn of light, The Knight and Ladye fair are met, And under the hawthorn's boughs are set. To meet beneath the hawthorn green.- And held his crested helm and spear: 13 Through all the Border, far and near. All between Home and Hermitage 16 As if a distant noise he hears. The Baron's courser pricks his ears, The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high, 131 140 150 No time was then to vow or sigh. 160 CANTO THIRD THE ARGUMENT. CRANSTOUN has hardly time to recover from his surprise, and, warned by his GoblinPage of the approach of an armed knight, to don his helmet, when he sees William of Deloraine descending the hill. Few words are needed to express their feudal hate, and to make a combat inevitable. Their meeting is "like the bursting thunder-cloud." The Borderer's spear shaft is shivered against Cranstoun's heart; but the Baron's point pierces Deloraine's mail, and rider and horse are hurled to the ground by the shock. Deeming it unsafe to remain longer in the neighbourhood of Branksome, the Baron, after instructing his page to tend the wounded man and lead him to the Castle gate, pursues his way alone. On removing the Knight's corslet, the page discovers the Mighty Book. He tries to open it, but fails to do so until he smears it over with the blood of the wounded Knight. He reads in it one short spell, by which he is able to make a lady seem a knight, a hut seem a palace, and youth seem age. Before he can read further, he receives from an unseen hand a buffet so strong that it stretches him on the plain. The Book closes, and the clasps shut faster than before. The page recovers, conceals the Book under his cloak, and lays Deloraine on his weary horse and leads him to Branksome. He flings him on the ground, at the entrance of the Ladye's secret bower. Repassing the outer court, the Dwarf sees the young heir of Branksome at play, and, assuming the form of a playmate, decoys him to the wood. Here, taking again his elvish shape, he darts away, crying, "Lost! lost! lost!" The child wanders through the forest, trying in vain to find the way to Branksome. He falls at last into the hands of some English yeomen, who, recognizing him, carry him off to Lord Dacre, the English Warden of the Marches. Meantime the Dwarf has returned to Branksome, and has assumed there the form of the lost boy; but he works so much unwonted mischief, that every one in the Castle believes that the young Baron is possessed by an evil spirit. The Ladye is too busy tending William of Deloraine's wounds to notice the change in her son. The same evening the beacon-blaze of war is seen to glare on the top of Pen chryst-hill. Every one knows that an English marauding party has crossed the Border, and all is bustle and excitement. Scouts are sent out in every direction to reconnoitre the enemy, and to summon their allies. Soon the Castle beacon is lighted, and the message is carried from tower to tower, and from hill to hill, till it reaches the Regent in the Capital, who orders a general march to the Border. CANTO FOURTH. THE ARGUMENT. EARLY the next morning Watt Tinlinn of Liddelside arrives at Branksome with news of the enemy, who have burned his little lonely tower. Three thousand Englishmen, led by Lord Dacre and Lord Howard-called Belted Will—and accompanied by a body of German musketeers, are marching with all speed to Branksome. The retainers and allies meantime crowd into the Castle. In their midst the Ladye extols with pride the bravery of her son. But the wily page, afraid to meet her gaze, feigns fear, shrinks from her sight, shrieks, and weeps. She, ashamed of his cowardice, orders Wat Tinlinn to conduct him to Buccleuch. As they cross a shallow brook, the water of which breaks his spell, the elf, discovered, flees, shouting, "Lost! lost! lost!" Tinlinn sends an arrow after him, which wounds him in the shoulder, and rides back to Branksome in hot haste, in time to see the marshalling of the enemy within sight of the Castle. From the Castle wall the Ladye holds parley with Lord Howard's pursuivant, who leads her son by the hand. He demands the surrender of William of Deloraine for plundering the lands of Musgrave; else they will storm the Castle, and lead her son to London to be page to King Edward. The Ladye, undismayed by her son's danger, defies the English lords, but proposes that Deloraine and Musgrave should engage in single combat to settle the dispute. Before answering the proposal, the English hear that the Regent is approaching with ten thousand Scots. The haughty Dacre wishes to decline the challenge, and attack the Castle at once; but he is overruled by the calmer counsels of Howard. The challenge is accepted, and the combat is fixed for the morrow. I. Now over Border, dale and fell, Full wide and far was terror spread; The frightened flocks and herds were pent From Branksome's towers the watchman's eye That through a bog, from hag to hag,3 As far as they could judge by ken, Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand Three thousand armèd Englishmen ;— Meanwhile, full many a warlike band, From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade, There was pricking o'er moor and lea; From dreary Gamescleuch's dusky height, His ready lances Thirlestane brave? Arrayed beneath a banner bright.— An agèd knight, to danger steeled, With many a moss-trooper came on; The stars and crescent graced his shield, Before their father's band: 40 50 A braver knight than Harden's lord 60 Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band, Came trooping down the Todshaw-hill: By the sword they won their land, And by the sword they hold it still.— Trooped man and horse, and bow and spear: To siege or rescue never rode. The Ladye marked the aids come in, Well may you think the wily page 70 He counterfeited childish fear, 80 And shrieked, and shed full many a tear, |