Thus through the Scottish camp they pass'd, And reach'd the City gate at last, Where all around, a wakeful guard, Arm'd burghers kept their watch and ward. Well had they cause of jealous fear, 140 When lay encamp'd, in field so near, The Borderer and the Mountaineer. As through the bustling streets they go, All was alive with martial show: At every turn, with dinning clang, 145 The armourer's anvil clash'd and rang; Or toil'd the swarthy smith, to wheel The bar that arms the charger's heel; Or axe, or falchion, to the side Of jarring grindstone was applied. 150 Page, groom, and squire, with hurrying pace Through street, and lane, and market-place, Bore lance, or casque, or sword; While burghers, with important face, Described each new-come lord, 155 Discuss'd his lineage, told his name, His following, and his warlike fame. The Lion led to lodging meet, Which high o'erlook'd the crowded street; There must the Baron rest, 160 Till past the hour of vesper tide, And then to Holy-Rood must ride,-- Such was the King's behest. Meanwhile the Lion's care assigns A banquet rich, and costly wines, 165 To Marmion and his train; And when the appointed hour succeeds, The Baron dons his peaceful weeds, And following Lindesay as he leads, The palace-halls they gain. 170 VIL Old Holy-Rood rung merrily, That night, with wassell, mirth, and glee: King James within her princely bower Feasted the Chiefs of Scotland's power, Summon'd to spend the parting hour; 175 For he had charged, that his array Should southward march by break of day. Well loved that splendid monarch aye The banquet and the song, By day the tourney, and by night 180 The merry dance, traced fast and light, The maskers quaint, the pageant bright, The revel loud and long. This feast outshone his banquets past; It was his blithest,--and his last. 185 The dazzling lamps, from gallery gay, Cast on the Court a dancing ray; Here to the harp did minstrels sing; There ladies touched a softer string; With long-ear'd cap, and motley vest, 190 The licensed fool retail'd his jest; His magic tricks the juggler plied; At dice and draughts the gallants vied; While some, in close recess apart, Courted the ladies of their heart, 195 Nor courted them in vain; For often, in the parting hour, Victorious Love asserts his power O'er coldness and disdain; And flinty is her heart, can view 200 To battle march a lover true-- Can hear, perchance, his last adieu, Nor own her share of pain. VIII.