The signet ring young Lewis took, With deep respect and alter'd look; And said,--"This ring our duties own; And pardon, if to worth unknown, In semblance mean, obscurely veil'd, Lady, in aught my folly fail'd. Soon as the day flings wide his gates, The King shall know what suitor waits. Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower Repose you till his waking hour; Female attendance shall obey Your hest, for service or array. Permit I marshal you the way." But, ere she followed, with the grace And open bounty of her race, She bade her slender purse be shared Among the soldiers of the guard. The rest with thanks their guerdon took; But Brent, with shy and awkward look, On the reluctant maiden's hold Forced bluntly back the proffer'd gold;-- "Forgive a haughty English heart, And oh, forget its ruder part! The vacant purse shall be my share, Which in my barret cap I'll bear, Perchance, in jeopardy of war, Where gayer crests may keep afar." With thanks--'twas all she could--the maid His rugged courtesy repaid. XI. When Ellen forth with Lewis went, Allan made suit to John of Brent:-- "My lady safe, oh, let your grace Give me to see my master's face! His minstrel I,--to share his doom Bound from the cradle to the tomb. Tenth in descent, since first my sires Waked for his noble house their lyres, Nor one of all the race was known But prized its weal above their own. With the Chief's birth begins our care; Our harp must soothe the infant heir, Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace His earliest feat of field or chase; In peace, in war, our rank we keep, We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, Nor leave him till we pour our verse-- A doleful tribute!--o'er his hearse. Then let me share his captive lot; It is my right--deny it not!"-- "Little we reck," said John of Brent, "We Southern men, of long descent; Nor wot we how a name--a word-- Makes clansmen vassals to a lord: Yet kind my noble landlord's part,-- God bless the house of Beaudesert! And, but I loved to drive the deer, More than to guide the laboring steer, I had not dwelt an outcast here. Come, good old Minstrel, follow me; Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see." XII.