my care
Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare.
You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard,
With ten picked archers of my train;
With England if the day go hard,
To Berwick speed amain.
But if we conquer, cruel maid,
My spoils shall at your feet be laid,
When here we meet again."

He waited for no answer, but dashed over the plain to Lord Surrey, who
met him with delight.

"Welcome, good Lord Marmion; brief greeting must serve in time of need.
With Stanley, I myself, have charge of the central division of the army,
Tunstall, stainless knight, directs the rearward, and the vanguard alone
needs your gallant command."

"Thanks, noble Surrey," Marmion said, and darted forward like a
thunderbolt. At the van, arose cheer on cheer, "Marmion! Marmion!" so
shrill, so high, as to startle the Scottish foe.

Eustace and Blount sadly thought,

"'Unworthy office here to stay!
No hope of gilded spurs to-day.'"

When King James saw that the English army by its skilful countermarch
had separated him from his base of supplies, and from his own country,
he resolved upon battle at once. Setting fire to his tents, he
descended, and the two armies, one facing north, the other south, met
almost without seeing each other.

"From the sharp ridges of the hill,
All downward to the banks of Till,
Was wreathed in sable smoke.
Volumed and fast, and rolling far,
The cloud enveloped Scotland's war,
As down the hill they broke;
Nor mortal shout, nor minstrel tone,
Announced their march; their tread alone
Told England, from his mountain-throne
King James did rushing come.
Scarce could they hear or see their foes,
Until at weapon-point they close.
They close, in clouds of smoke and dust,
With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust;
And such a yell was there,
Of sudden and portentous birth,
As if men fought upon the earth,
And fiends in upper air;
Oh, life and death were in the shout,
Recoil and rally, charge and rout,
And triumph and despair.
Long look'd the anxious squires; their eye
Could in the darkness naught descry."

At length the breeze threw aside the shroud of battle, and there might
be seen ridge after ridge of spears. Pennon and plume floated like foam
on the crest of the wave. Spears shook; falchions flashed; arrows fell
like rain; crests rose, a