The King saw their meeting eyes, saw himself treated almost with disdain, and darkest anger shook his frame, for sovereigns illy bear rivals in word, or smile, or look. He drew forth the parchment on which was written Marmion's commission, and strode to the side of brave Douglas, the sixth who had worn the coronet of Angus. The King stood side by side with this brave Scotsman, who had been madly watching the pageant, the fire flashing from his stern eye. This very day he had besought his King to withdraw from the coming war, only to call forth the reproaches of his ungrateful ruler. Yet at this moment, James felt a pride in standing by the side of Bothwell's Lord, and placing in his custody Marmion, the flower of English chivalry.
"The Douglas' form, like ruin'd tower,
Seem'd o'er the gaudy scene to lower:
His locks and beard in silver grew;
His eyebrows kept their sable hue.
Near Douglas, where the monarch stood,
His bitter speech he thus pursued:
'Lord Marmion, since these letters say
That in the North you needs must stay
While slightest hopes of peace remain,
Uncourteous speech it were, and stern,
To say—Return to Lindisfarne—
Then rest you in Tantallon Hold;
Your host shall be the Douglas bold,
A chief unlike his sires of old.
He wears their motto on his blade,
Their blazon o'er his towers display'd;
Yet loves his sovereign to oppose,
More than to face his country's foes.
And, I bethink me, by St. Stephen,
But e'en this morn to me was given
A prize, the first fruits of the war,
Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar,
A bevy of the maids of Heaven.
Under your guard these holy maids
Shall safe return to cloister shades.'"
The proud heart of Douglas felt the keen thrust. It was true, he would not, even for the King he devotedly loved, draw sword in an unholy cause. As a burning tear stole down his scarred cheek, he turned aside to conceal what might seem weakness. This sight the king could not bear, and seizing the hand of Angus, exclaimed:
"'Now, by the Bruce's soul,
Angus, my hasty speech forgive!
I well may say of you,—
That never king did subject hold,
In speech more free, in war more bold,
More tender and more true:
Forgive me, Douglas, once again!'"
While monarch and man embraced, while the aged noble's tears fell like rain, Marmion seized the moment to restore himself to favor with both, and whispered half aloud to the King:
"'Oh! let such tears unwonted plead
For respite short from dubious deed!
A child will weep a bramble's smart,
A maid to see her sparrow part,
A stripling for a woman's heart:
But woe awaits a country when
She sees the tears of bearded men.
Then, oh! what omen, dark and high,
When Douglas wets his manly eye!'"
That a stranger should see his changing moods, and above all, should presume to tamper therewith, aroused in James the fierce spirit of revenge. Said the fiery monarch:
"'Laugh those that can, weep those that may,
Southward I march by break of day;
And if within Tantallon strong
The good Lord Marmion tarries long,
Perchance our meeting next may fall
At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.'"
Marmion felt the taunt, and answered gravely: "My humble home would be much honored if King James should visit its halls, but Nottingham has as true archers as e'er drew bow, and Yorkshire men are stern and brave.
"'And many a banner will be torn,
And many a knight to earth be borne,
And many a sheaf of arrows spent,
Ere Scotland's King shall cross the Trent.'"