Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/81

Yon shrouded figure, as I guess,
370By her proud mien and flowing dress,
Is Tynemouth's haughty Prioress,
 And she with awe looks pale:
And he, that Ancient Man, whose sight
Has long been quench'd by age's night,
375Upon whose wrinkled brow alone,
Nor ruth, nor mercy's trace, is shown,
 Whose look is hard and stern,—
Saint Cuthbert's Abbot is his style;
For sanctity call'd, through the isle,
380 The Saint of Lindisfarne.

XX.
Before them stood a guilty pair;
But, though an equal fate they share,
Yet one alone deserves our care.
Her sex a page's dress belied;
385The cloak and doublet, loosely tied,
Obscured her charms, but could not hide.
 Her cap down o'er her face she drew;
  And, on her doublet breast,
 She tried to hide the badge of blue,
390  Lord Marmion's falcon crest.
But, at the Prioress' command,
A Monk undid the silken band
 That tied her tresses fair,
And raised the bonnet from her head,
395And down her slender form they spread,
 In ringlets rich and rare.
Constance de Beverley they know,
Sister profess'd of Fontevraud,
Whom the Church number'd with the dead,
400For broken vows, and convent fled.

XXI.
When thus her face was given to view,
(Although so pallid was her hue,