ag 
, 
iy 
Tantallon, under the charge of Angus, 
On their journey they paused awhile at a 
convent, the prioress of which courte- 
ously offered to entertain the abbess and 
her train till a bark could be prepared 
for their reception. This appears to 
have been a premeditated plot ; for when 
the abbess joyfully accepted the proposal, 
Fitz-Eustace declared, in the name of 
his lord, that Clara must proceed to ‘Tan- 
tallon. After much opposition on the 
part of the abbess and Clara, they were 
compelied to separate ; and at the dis- 
tance of three miles appeared in view 
the vast towers of the castle of ‘Tantal- 
lon, situated on 2 high rock, projecting 
into the ocean. Tiere they met with a 
fair reception from Lady Angus; and in 
a short time the tidings reached them, 
that King James had captured the for- 
tresses of Wark, Ford, and Norham, and 
that the Scottish host had taken post on 
an eminence, waiting the approach of 
Surrey and the English army: on which 
Lord Marmion, who had marked a great 
and recent abatement of civility on the 
part of Angus, bade his band to prepare 
for their departure at the dawn of day, 
being resolved not to absent himself from 
the bloody battle now in all probability 
soon to be fought. 
A very large part of this Canto is em- 
ployed in describing, and it must be al- 
lowed that the descriptions are lively and’ 
animated, the progress of the ambassa- 
dor, the martial array of the Scottish ar-- 
miy, the magnificent appearance of the 
metropolis, and the splendid gaieties of 
the court. But the question forces itself 
upon us, what has all this to do with the 
proper subject of the poem? Towards 
the end of the Cante, indeed, the fable 
proceeds, butat the expence of congruity 
and probability. Neitherthe Palmer nor 
Clara could have any possible occasion 
to travel into Scotland, had it not been 
necessary for the purposes of the poet 
(whose plot, such as it is, now hastens to 
its catastrophe), that they should meet 
there. And they are brought together in 
amanner the most forced, «and by con- 
trivances the most clumsy and inarti- 
ficial. 
~The poetry of this Canto is, upon the 
whole, extremely pleasing; and the vision, 
or preternatural phenomenon displaying 
itself from the High Cross, is a grand, 
sublime, and singularly striking fiction. 
) CANTO Vi. 
During the compulsive sojourn of Clara 
at Tantallon, 
1808.] ‘Remarks on the Poetic Romance of Marmion. 
ze, 
¢¢ Where all in high baronial pride, 
Led lives both dull ane dignified;” 
she occupied a large portion of ber 
time with daily walking round the em- 
battled walls of the castle, which on the 
eastern side hung over the sea, the 
waves beating against the foot of the 
rock ata vast distance below. 
One evening taking thus. her round, 
and musing upon her sorrows, she saw to 
her astonishment, lying in her path, a 
complete suit of armour, the breast-plate 
pierced. This brought to her _remem- 
brance the fate of De Wilton, and exe 
cited the following apostrophe :-— 
ge Oh, not corslet’s ward, 
Not truth as diamond pure and hard, 
Could be thy manly bosom’s guard | 
On yon disastrous day.” 
On raising her mournful eyes froma 
the ground, ? 
<¢ Wilton himself before her stood.” 
The scene which passed between therm 
the poet declines even attempring to dey 
scribe. But we learn from the narrative 
of De Wilton’s adventures, that soon af- 
ter the day of his disastrous combat with 
Marmion, he quitted his native land, and, 
arrayed in Palmer’s® weeds, went upbdn 
many a pilgrimage; while vulgar fame 
reperted that he had perished of his 
wound. Inthe course of his peregrina- 
tions he had taken bis route to Scotland, 
and by what he justly styles ‘a chance’ 
most wondrous,” he. became Marmion’s 
guide to Edinburgh. 
De Wilton then related the adventure 
of the hostel, and his single combat with 
Marmion, whose life he forebore to sacri- 
fice, in consequence of a strange vow 
which he had made, to spare his deadliest. 
enemy when in his power. He stated 
the delivery of the pacquet to him by the 
abbess; and also that he had in confi- 
dence disclosed the whole of his story to 
Angus, who had furnished hin with the 
suit of armour which now lay before him, 
and which, according to the law of chi- 
valry, he watched ull midnight, when 
Angus’ would again restore him to the 
dignity of knighthood, which he had lost; 
after which he meant to join the camp of 
Surrey. The ceremony being performed, 
on the next morning De Wilton sallied 
forth. Marmion also, now fully prepared 
for his journey, stopped only in courtesy 
to bid adieu to his host, offering, in token 
of friendship, bis hand to Angus, who in 
scorn refused to receive it. After some 
rough altercation, Marmion precipitately 
rode 
