"
She stooped by the side of the rill, but drew back in horror,--it ran
red with the best blood of two kingdoms. Near by, a fountain played, the
well of Sybil Grey. At this, the helmet was quickly filled, and
accompanied by a monk, who was present to shrive the dying or to bless
the dead, the Lady Clare hurried to the side of Marmion. Deep he drank,
saying:
"Is it the hand of Constance or of Clare that bathes my brow? Speak not
to me of shrift and prayer; while the spark of life lasts, I must
redress the wrongs of Constance."
Between broken sobs the Lady Clare replied:
"'In vain for Constance is your zeal;
She--died at Holy Isle.'"
Lord Marmion started from the ground, but fainting fell, supported by
the monk.
The din of war ceased for a moment, then there swelled upon the gale the
cry, "Stanley! Stanley!"
"A light on Marmion's visage spread,
And fired his glazing eye:
With dying hand, above his head,
He shook the fragment of his blade,
And shouted 'Victory!
Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!'
Were the last words of Marmion."
The monk gently placed the maid on her steed, and led her to the fair
Chapel of Tilmouth. The night was spent in prayer, and at dawn she was
safely given to her kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81