Page:Marmion - Walter Scott (ed. Bayne, 1889).pdf/86

XXIX.
'Still was false Marmion's bridal staid;
To Whitby's convent fled the maid,
 The hated match to shun.
"Ho! shifts she thus?" King Henry cried,
545"Sir Marmion, she shall be thy bride,
 If she were sworn a nun."
One way remain'd—the King's command
Sent Marmion to the Scottish land!
I linger'd here, and rescue plann'd
550 For Clara and for me:
This caitiff Monk, for gold, did swear,
He would to Whitby's shrine repair,
And, by his drugs, my rival fair
 A saint in heaven should be.
555But ill the dastard kept his oath,
Whose cowardice has undone us both.

XXX,
'And now my tongue the secret tells,
Not that remorse my bosom swells,
But to assure my soul that none
560Shall ever wed with Marmion.
Had fortune my last hope betray'd,
This packet, to the King convey'd,
Had given him to the headsman's stroke,
Although my heart that instant broke.—
565Now, men of death, work forth your will,
For I can suffer, and be still;
And come he slow, or come he fast,
It is but Death who comes at last.

XXXI.
'Yet dread me, from my living tomb,
570Ye vassal slaves of bloody Rome!
If Marmion's late remorse should wake,
Full soon such vengeance will he take,