XXVI.

“Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer, Whose names I now shall call, Scottish, or foreigner, give ear! Subjects of him who sent me here, At his tribunal to appear I summon one and all: I cite you by each deadly sin That e’er hath soiled your hearts within; I cite you by each brutal lust That e’er defiled your earthly dust— By wrath, by pride, by fear; By each o’er-mastering passion’s tone, By the dark grave and dying groan! When forty days are passed and gone, I cite you, at your monarch’s throne, To answer and appear.” Then thundered forth a roll of names; The first was thine, unhappy James! Then all thy nobles came:— Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle, Ross, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle— Why should I tell their separate style? Each chief of birth and fame, Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle, Foredoomed to Flodden’s carnage pile, Was cited there by name; And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, Of Lutterward and Scrivelbaye; De Wilton, erst of Aberley, The self-same thundering voice did say. But then another spoke: “Thy fatal summons I deny, And thine infernal lord defy, Appealing me to Him on high, Who burst the sinner’s yoke.” At that dread accent, with a scream. Parted the pageant like a dream, The summoner was gone. Prone on her face the Abbess fell, And fast and fast her beads did tell; Her nuns came, startled by the yell, And found her there alone. She marked not, at the scene aghast, What time, or how, the Palmer passed.