The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, 905
Assumed her wonted state again,-
For much of state she had,--
Composed her veil, and raised her head,
And--'Bid,' in solemn voice she said,
'Thy master, bold and bad, 910
The records of his house turn o'er,
And, when he shall there written see,
That one of his own ancestry
Drove the monks forth of Coventry,
Bid him his fate explore! 915
Prancing in pride of earthly trust,
His charger hurl'd him to the dust,
And, by a base plebeian thrust,
He died his band before.
God judge 'twixt Marmion and me; 920
He is a Chief of high degree,
And I a poor recluse;
Yet oft, in holy writ, we see
Even such weak minister as me
May the oppressor bruise: 925
For thus, inspired, did Judith slay
The mighty in his sin,
And Jael thus, and Deborah'--
Here hasty Blount broke in:
'Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band; 930
Saint Anton' fire thee! wilt thou stand
All day, with bonnet in thy hand,
To hear the Lady preach?
By this good light! if thus we stay,
Lord Marmion, for our fond delay, 935
Will sharper sermon teach.
Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse;
The Dame must patience take perforce.'--