XXVII.
Then uproar wild and misarray[315]
Marr’d the fair form of festal day.
The horsemen prick’d among the crowd,
Repell’d by threats and insult loud;
To earth are borne the old and weak,
The timorous fly, the women shriek;
With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar,
The hardier urge tumultuous war.
At once round Douglas darkly sweep
The royal spears in circle deep,
And slowly scale the pathway steep;
While on the rear in thunder pour
The rabble with disorder’d roar.
With grief the noble Douglas saw
The Commons rise against the law,
And to the leading soldier said,—
“Sir John of Hyndford![316] ’twas my blade
That knighthood on thy shoulder laid;[317]
For that good deed, permit me then
A word with these misguided men.”—