"
As the weird strains died away, the host pressed the English lord to
bide long as a guest, promising rest for horse, and refreshment and
pleasure for man, with many a joust, or feat at arms, for those who
wished to learn northern ways.
At this the brow of Marmion grew dark and stern. Sir Hugh marked the
changed look, and pouring out a bowl of sparkling wine, said:
"'Now pledge me here, Lord Marmion:
But first I pray thee fair,
Where hast thou left that page of thine,
Whose beauty was so rare?
When last in Raby towers we met,
The boy I closely eyed,
And often marked his cheeks were wet
With tears he fain would hide.'"
Lord Marmion ill concealed his rising anger, yet he made a calm reply.
"The lad was too frail to endure the northern climate, and I have left
him at Lindisfarne. May I ask, Lord Heron, why the lady of the castle
disdains to grace the hall to-day? Is it because Marmion of Fontenaye is
present?"
The Knight replied:
"Norham Castle is a grim, dull cage for a bird so beautiful as the lady
of Heron, and with my consent she sits with the noble and fair Queen
Margaret, the bride of royal James."
"Ah!" replied the Heron's noble guest, "if this be so, I will gladly
bear to her your tender messages.
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