Some half-hour's march behind, there came, By Eustace govern'd fair, 810 A troop escorting Hilda's Dame, With all her nuns, and Clare. No audience had Lord Marmion sought; Ever he fear'd to aggravate Clara de Clare's suspicious hate; 815 And safer 'twas, he thought, To wait till, from the nuns removed, The influence of kinsmen loved, And suit by Henry's self approved, Her slow consent had wrought. 820 His was no flickering flame, that dies Unless when fann'd by looks and sighs, And lighted oft at lady's eyes; He long'd to stretch his wide command O'er luckless Clara's ample land: 825 Besides, when Wilton with him vied, Although the pang of humbled pride The place of jealousy supplied, Yet conquest, by that meanness won He almost loath'd to think upon, 830 Led him, at times, to hate the cause, Which made him burst through honour's laws. If e'er he loved, 'twas her alone, Who died within that vault of stone. XXIX. And now, when close at hand they saw 835 North Berwick's town, and lofty Law, Fitz-Eustace bade them pause a while, Before a venerable pile, Whose turrets view'd, afar, The lofty Bass, the Lambie Isle, 840 The ocean's peace or war. At tolling of a bell, forth came The convent's venerable Dame, And pray'd Saint Hilda's Abbess rest With her, a loved and honour'd guest, 845 Till Douglas should a bark prepare To wait her back to Whitby fair. Glad was the Abbess, you may guess, And thank'd the Scottish Prioress; And tedious were to tell, I ween, 850 The courteous speech that pass'd between. O'erjoy'd the nuns their palfreys leave; But when fair Clara did intend, Like them, from horseback to descend, Fitz-Eustace said,--'I grieve, 855 Fair lady, grieve e'en from my heart, Such gentle company to part;-- Think not discourtesy, But lords' commands must be obey'd; And Marmion and the Douglas said, 860 That you must wend with me. Lord Marmion hath a letter broad, Which to the Scottish Earl he show'd, Commanding, that, beneath his care, Without delay, you shall repair 865 To your good kinsman, Lord Fitz-Clare.' XXX.