Eustace removed the casque; revived by the free air, Marmion cried:

"Fitz-Eustace, Blount,

"'Redeem my pennon,--charge again!
Cry,--"Marmion to the rescue!"
'Must I bid twice?--hence, varlets! fly!
Leave Marmion here alone,--to die.'
They parted, and alone he lay;
Clare drew her from the sight away,
Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan,
And half he murmur'd--'Is there none,
Of all my halls have nursed,
Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring
Of blessed water from the spring,
To slake my dying thirst!'"

"O Woman! in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!
Scarce were the piteous accents said,
When, with the baron's casque, the maid
To the nigh streamlet ran:
Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears;
The plaintive voice alone she hears,
Sees but the dying man."