'Gainst Marmion's force to stand;
To him he lost his lady-love,
And to the King his land.
Ourselves beheld the listed field,
A sight both sad and fair;
We saw Lord Marmion pierce the shield,
And saw the saddle bare;
We saw the victor win the crest
He wears with worthy pride;
And on the gibbet-tree, reversed,
His foeman's scutcheon tied.
Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight!
Room, room, ye gentles gay,
For him who conquered in the right,
Marmion of Fontenaye!'"

As the welcome died away, forth stepped Sir Hugh, lord of the castle. He
led his visitor to the raised dais and placed him in the seat of honor,
while a northern harper chanted a rude hymn. The ear of Marmion could
scarcely brook the barbarous sound, yet much he praised, well knowing
that,

"Lady's suit, and minstrel's strain,
By knight should ne'er be heard in vain."

As the weird strains died away, the host pressed the English lord to
bide long as a guest, promising rest for horse, and refreshment and
pleasure for man, with many a joust, or feat at arms, for those who
wished to learn northern ways.