XXIX.

And now when close at hand they saw North Berwick’s town and lofty Law, Fitz-Eustace bade them pause awhile Before a venerable pile, Whose turrets viewed, afar, The lofty Bass, the Lambie Isle, The ocean’s peace or war. At tolling of a bell, forth came The convent’s venerable dame, And prayed Saint Hilda’s Abbess rest With her, a loved and honoured guest, Till Douglas should a barque prepare To waft her back to Whitby fair. Glad was the Abbess, you may guess, And thanked the Scottish Prioress; And tedious were to tell, I ween, The courteous speech that passed between. O’erjoyed, the nuns their palfreys leave; But when fair Clara did intend, Like them, from horseback to descend, Fitz-Eustace said, “I grieve, Fair lady—grieve e’en from my heart— Such gentle company to part; Think not discourtesy, But lords’ commands must be obeyed; And Marmion and the Douglas said That you must wend with me. Lord Marmion hath a letter broad, Which to the Scottish earl he showed, Commanding that beneath his care Without delay you shall repair To your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.”