“Nay, if with royal James’s bride The lovely Lady Heron bide, Behold me here a messenger, Your tender greetings prompt to bear; For to the Scottish court addressed, I journey at our King’s behest, And pray you, of your grace, provide For me and mine, a trusty guide. I have not ridden in Scotland since James backed the cause of that mock-prince, Warbeck, that Flemish counterfeit, Who on the gibbet paid the cheat. Then did I march with Surrey’s power, What time we razed old Ayton Tower.” XIX. “For such-like need, my lord, I trow, Norham can find you guides enow; For here be some have pricked as far, On Scottish ground, as to Dunbar; Have drunk the monks of St. Bothan’s ale, And driven the beeves of Lauderdale; Harried the wives of Greenlaw’s goods, And given them light to set their hoods.” XX. “Now, in good sooth,” Lord Marmion cried, “Were I in warlike wise to ride, A better guard I would not lack Than your stout forayers at my back; But as in form of peace I go, A friendly messenger, to know Why through all Scotland, near and far, Their King is mustering troops for war. The sight of plundering Border spears Might justify suspicious fears, And deadly feud, or thirst of spoil, Break out in some unseemly broil: A herald were my fitting guide; Or friar, sworn in peace to bide Or pardoner, or travelling priest, Or strolling pilgrim, at the least.” XXI.