e threads of silver in his black curling hair, spoke less of
age than of toil. The square-turned joints, the evident strength of body
and limb, bespoke not a carpet-knight, but a grim champion. From head to
foot, he was clad in mail of Milan steel. His helmet of embossed gold
hung at the saddle-bow. A falcon hovered in the crest, and soared on the
azure field of the noble lord's shield, above the motto, "Who checks at
me, to death is dight!"

The horse was as richly clad as its rider. The reins were embroidered in
blue, and ribbons of the same color decked the arched neck and mane. The
housings were of blue trapped with gold.

Behind the leader, rode gallant squires of noble name. Though still a
squire, each had well earned knighthood. Each could tame a war horse,
draw a bow, wield a sword, dance in the hall, carve at the board, frame
love ditties, and sing them to fair ladies.

Next in the train, came four men-at-arms: two carried halbert, bill,
axe, and lance; a third led the sumpter mules and the ambling palfrey,
which served to bear Lord Marmion when he wished to relieve his battle
steed; the most trusty of the four held on high the pennon, furled in
its glossy blue streamers. Last were twenty yeomen, two and two, in blue
jerkins, black hose, and wearing falcons embroidered on each breast. At
their belts hung quivers, and in their hands were boar-spears, tough and
strong. They knew the art of hunting by lake or in wood, could bend a
six-foot bow, or, at the behest of their lord, send far the cloth-yard
spear.

To welcome Marmion, the Flower of English Chivalry, the soldiers of the
guard of Norham stood in the castle yard, with reversed pike and spear.
Minstrels and trumpeters were there, the welcome was prepared, and as
the train entered, a clang sounded through turret and tower, such as the
old castle had seldom heard.

Trumpets flourished, the martial airs rang out as Marmion crossed the
court, scattering angels among the ranks. Loud rose the cry:

"Welcome to Norham, Marmion!
Stout heart and open hand!
Thou flower of English land!"

Two pursuivants stood at the entrance to the donjon, and hailed the
guest as Lord of Fontenaye, of Lutterward, Scrivelbaye, of "Tamworth
tower and town." To requite their courtesy, Marmion, as he alighted,
hung about the neck of each a chain of twelve marks.

"Largesse, largesse, knight of the crest of gold!" cried the heralds, in
acknowledgment of the bounty r