While yet they gaze, the bridges fall,

The wicket opes, and from the wall

Rides forth the hoary Seneschal.

XVIII.

Armed he rode, all save the head,

His white beard o'er his breast-plate spread;

Unbroke by age, erect his seat,

He ruled his eager courser's gait;

Forced him, with chastened fire, to prance,

And, high curvetting, slow advance:
In sign of truce, his better hand
Displayed a peeled willow wand;

His squire, attending in the rear,
Bore high a gauntlet on a spear.
When they espied him riding out,

Lord Howard and Lord Dacre stout

Sped to the front of their array,

To hear what this old knight should say.

XIX.

"Ye English warden lords, of you

Demands the Ladye of Buccleuch,

Why, 'gainst the truce of Border-tide,
In hostile guise ye dare to ride,

With Kendal bow, and Gilsland brand,

And all yon mercenary band,

Upon the bounds of fair Scotland?

My Ladye reads you swith return;
And, if but one poor straw you burn,
Or do our towers so much molest,
As scare one swallow from her nest,
St Mary! but we'll light a brand,

Shall warm your

hearths in Cumberland."

XX..

A wrathful man was Dacre's lord,

But calmer Howard took the word:

May't please thy Dame, Sir Seneschal,

To seek the castle's outward wall;

Our pursuivant-at-arms shall shew,
Both why we came, and when we go."
The message sped, the noble Dame

To the walls' outward circle came;

Each chief around leaned on his spear,

To see the pursuivant appear.

All in Lord Howard's livery dressed,

The lion argent decked his breast;

He led a boy of blooming hue--
O sight to meet a mother's view!
It was the heir of great Buccleuch.
Obeisance meet the herald made,

And thus his master's will he said.

XXI.

“ It irks, high Dame, my noble Lords,
'Gainst ladye fair to draw their swords;

But yet they may not tamely see,
All through the western wardenry,

OTH

NVI

Your law-contemning kinsmen ride,

And burn and spoil the Border-side;

And ill beseems your rank and birth

To make your towers a flemens-firth *.
We claim from thee William of Deloraine,

That he may suffer march-treason pain†:

It was but last St Cuthbert's even

He pricked to Stapleton on Leven,
Harried the lands of Richard Musgrave,

And slew his brother by dint of glaive.
Then, since a lone and widowed Dame

These restless riders may not tame,

Either receive within thy towers

Two hundred of my master's powers,

Or straight they sound their warison ||,
And storm and spoil thy garrison;

And this fair boy, to London led,

Shall good King Edward's page be bred."

* An asylum for outlaws.
1 Plundered.

+ Border treason.

|| Note of assault.

XXII.

He ceased-and loud the Boy did cry,
And stretched his little arms on high;

Implored for aid each well-known face,
And strove to seek the Dame's embrace.
A moment changed that Ladye's cheer,
Gushed to her eye the unbidden tear;
She gazed upon the leaders round,

And dark and sad each warrior frowned
Then, deep within her sobbing breast
She locked the struggling sigh to rest;

Unaltered and collected stood,

And thus replied, in dauntless mood.

XXIII.

"Say to your Lords of high emprize,

Who war on women and on boys,

That either William of Deloraine

Will cleanse him, by oath, of march-treason stain,

Or else he will the combat take

'Gainst Musgrave, for his honour's sake.