Chapter 14 No.14

"Now, good Lord Marmion," Heron says,

"Of your fair courtesy,

I pray you bide some little space

In this poor tower with me.

Here may you keep your arms from rust,

May breathe your war-horse well;

Seldom hath passed a week but just

Or feat of arms befell:

The Scots can rein a mettled steed,

And love to couch a spear;

St