"From fate's dark book a leaf been torn,
And Flodden had been Bannockbourne!"

Fitz-Eustace called to Blount, and both to Marmion,

"'Lord Surrey's o'er the Till!'"

The spirit of war flowed in every vein. Marmion flung himself into the
saddle, scarce bade adieu to the good Abbot, commanded the young knight
to escort the Lady Clare, and dashed on to the Tweed. The river must be
crossed. Down to the deep and dangerous ford, he ventured desperately.
Foremost of all, he gallantly entered and stemmed the tide. Eustace held
Clare upon her saddle, and old Hubert reined her horse. Stoutly they
braved the current, and though carried far down the stream, they gained
the opposite bank.

The train followed. Each held his bow high over his head, and well he
might. Every string that day needed to be unharmed by moisture, that it
might ring sharply in the coming combat.

Marmion rested a moment, only to bathe his horse, then halted not until
Surrey's rear guard was reached. Here on a hillock, by a cross of stone,
they could survey the field.

"The hillock gain'd, Lord Marmion stayed:
'Here, by this cross,' he gently said,
'You well may view the scene.
Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare:
Oh! think of Marmion in thy prayer!