XVII.

“In brief, my lord, we both descried (For then I stood by Henry’s side) The Palmer mount, and outwards ride, Upon the earl’s own favourite steed: All sheathed he was in armour bright, And much resembled that same knight, Subdued by you in Cotswold fight: Lord Angus wished him speed.” The instant that Fitz-Eustace spoke, A sudden light on Marmion broke: “Ah! dastard fool, to reason lost!” He muttered; “’Twas nor fay nor ghost I met upon the moonlight wold, But living man of earthly mould. O dotage blind and gross! Had I but fought as wont, one thrust Had laid De Wilton in the dust, My path no more to cross. How stand we now?—he told his tale To Douglas; and with some avail; ’Twas therefore gloomed his ruggéd brow. Will Surrey dare to entertain, ’Gainst Marmion, charge disproved and vain? Small risk of that, I trow. Yet Clare’s sharp questions must I shun; Must separate Constance from the nun— Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive! A Palmer too!—no wonder why I felt rebuked beneath his eye: I might have known there was but one Whose look could quell Lord Marmion.”