• And the King said: “The hour is late;
• To-morrow will serve, I ween.”
• Then he charged the usher strictly, and said:
• “No word of this to the Queen.”

• But the usher came again to the King.
• 410“Shall I call her back?” quoth he:
• “For as she went on her way, she cried,
• ‘Woe! Woe! then the thing must be!’”

• And the King paused, but he did not speak.
• Then he called for the Voidee-cup:
• And as we heard the twelfth hour strike,
• There by true lips and false lips alike
• Was the draught of trust drained up.

• So with reverence meet to King and Queen,
• To bed went all from the board;
• 420And the last to leave of the courtly train
• Was Robert Stuart the chamberlain
• Who had sold his sovereign lord.

• And all the locks of the chamber-door
• Had the traitor riven and brast;
• And that Fate might win sure way from afar,
• He had drawn out every bolt and bar
• That made the entrance fast.

• And now at midnight he stole his way
• To the moat of the outer wall,
• 430And laid strong hurdles closely across
• Where the traitors' tread should fall.

• But we that were the Queen's bower-maids
• Alone were left behind;
• And with heed we drew the curtains close
• Against the winter wind.

• And now that all was still through the hall,
• More clearly we heard the rain
• That clamoured ever against the glass
• And the boughs that beat on the pane.

• 440But the fire was bright in the ingle-nook,
• And through empty space around
• The shadows cast on the arras'd wall
• 'Mid the pictured kings stood sudden and tall
• Like spectres sprung from the ground.

• And the bed was dight in a deep alcove;
• And as he stood by the fire
• The King was still in talk with the Queen
• While he doffed his goodly attire.

• And the song had brought the image back
• 450Of many a bygone year;
• And many a loving word they said
• With hand in hand and head laid to head;
• And none of us went anear.

• But Love was weeping outside the house,
• A child in the piteous rain;
• And as he watched the arrow of Death,
• He wailed for his own shafts close in the sheath
• That never should fly again.

• And now beneath the window arose
• 460A wild voice suddenly:
• And the King reared straight, but the Queen fell back
• As for bitter dule to dree;
• And all of us knew the woman's voice
• Who spoke by the Scotish Sea.

• “O King,” she cried, “in an evil hour
• They drove me from thy gate;
• And yet my voice must rise to thine ears;
• But alas! it comes too late!

• “Last night at mid-watch, by Aberdour,
• 470When the moon was dead in the skies,
• O King, in a death-light of thine own
• I saw thy shape arise.

• “And in full season, as erst I said,
• The doom had gained its growth;
• And the shroud had risen above thy neck
• And covered thine eyes and mouth.

• “And no moon woke, but the pale dawn broke,
• And still thy soul stood there;
• And I thought its silence cried to my soul
• 480As the first rays crowned its hair.

• “Since then have I journeyed fast and fain
• In very despite of Fate,
• Lest Hope might still be found in God's will:
• But they drove me from thy gate.

• “For every man on God's ground, O King,
• His death grows up from his birth
• In a shadow-plant perpetually;
• And thine towers high, a black yew-tree,
• O'er the Charterhouse of Perth!”

• 490That room was built far out from the house;
• And none but we in the room
• Might hear the voice that rose beneath,
• Nor the tread of the coming doom.

• For now there came a torchlight-glare,
• And a clang of arms there came;
• And not a soul in that space but thought
• Of the foe Sir Robert Græme.

• Yea, from the country of the Wild Scots,
• O'er mountain, valley, and glen,
• 500He had brought with him in murderous league
• Three hundred armèd men.

• The King knew all in an instant's flash;
• And like a King did he stand;
• But there was no armour in all the room,
• Nor weapon lay to his hand.

• And all we women flew to the door
• And thought to have made it fast;
• But the bolts were gone and the bars were gone
• And the locks were riven and brast.

• 510And he caught the pale pale Queen in his arms
• As the iron footsteps fell,—
• Then loosed her, standing alone, and said,
• “Our bliss was our farewell!”

• And 'twixt his lips he murmured a prayer,
• And he crossed his brow and breast;
• And proudly in royal hardihood
• Even so with folded arms he stood,—
• The prize of the bloody quest.

• Then on me leaped the Queen like a deer:—
• 520“O Catherine, help!” she cried.
• And I felt the strength of a mighty man
• As wildly across the room I ran
• And reached her husband's side.

• And the iron tongs from the chimney-nook
• I snatched, nor my hand did shake,
• But the plank at my feet I wrenched and tore,
• And pointed down through the open floor,
• And said, “My Liege, for her sake!”

• And he looked to the Queen, and then he came,
• For her hands were clasped in prayer.
• And down he sprang to the inner crypt;
• And straight I closed the plank I had ripp'd
• 540And spread the rushes there.

• (Alas! in that vault a gap once was
• Wherethro' the King might have fled:
• But three days since close-walled had it been
• By his will; for the ball would roll therein
• When without at the palm he play'd.)

• 550And louder ever the voices grew,
• And the tramp of men in mail;
• Until to my brain it seemed to be
• As though I tossed on a ship at sea
• In the teeth of a crashing gale.

• Then back I flew to the rest; and hard
• We strove with sinews knit
• To force the table against the door;
• But we might not compass it.

• And now the rush was heard on the stair,
• And God, what help?” was our cry.
• And was I frenzied or was I bold?—
• I looked at each empty stanchion-hold,
• And no bar but my arm had I!

• Like iron felt my arm, as through
• The staple I made it pass:—
• 570Alack! it was flesh and bone—no more!
• 'Twas Catherine Douglas sprang to the door,
• But I fell back Kate Barlass.

• With that they all thronged into the hall,
• Half dim to my failing ken;
• And the space that was but a void before
• Was a crowd of raging wrathful men.

• Behind the door I had fall'n and lay,
• Yet my sense was wildly aware,
• And for all the pain of my shattered arm
• 580I never fainted there.

• And under the litters and through the bed
• And within the presses all
• They sought in vain for the King, and pierced
• The arras around the wall.

• And through the chamber they stamped ramped and stormed
• 590Like lions loose in the lair,
• And scarce could trust to their very eyes,—
• For behold! no King was there.

• Then one of them seized the Queen, and cried,—
• “Now tell us, where is thy lord?”
• And he held the sharp point over her heart:
• She dropped not her eyes nor did she start,
• But she answered never a word.

• Then the sword half pierced the true true breast:
• But it was the Græme's own son
• 600Cried, “This is a woman,—we seek a man!”
• And away from her girdle-zone
• He struck the point of the murderous steel;
• And that foul deed was not done.

• And forth flowed all the throng like a sea,
• And 'twas empty space once more;
• And my eyes sought out the wounded Queen
• As I lay behind the door.

• And I said: ȌDear Lady, leave me here,
• For I cannot help you now;
• 610But fly while you may, and none shall reck
• Of my place here lying low.”

• And she said, “My Catherine, God help thee!”
• Then she looked to the distant floor,
• And clasping her hands, “O God help him,”
• She sobbed, “for we can no more!”

• But God He knows what help may mean,
• If it mean to live or to die;
• And what sore sorrow and mighty moan
• On earth it may cost ere yet a throne
• 620Be filled in His house on high.

• And now the ladies fled with the Queen;
• And thorough the open door
• The night-wind wailed round the empty room
• And the rushes shook on the floor.

• And the bed drooped low in the dark recess
• Whence the arras was rent away;
• And the firelight still shone over the space
• Where our hidden secret lay.

• And the rain had ceased, and the moonbeams lit
• 630The window high in the wall,—
• Bright beams that on the plank that I knew
• Through the painted pane did fall
• And gleamed with the splendour of Scotland's crown
• And shield armorial.

• But then a great wind swept up the skies,
• And the climbing moon fell back;
• And the royal blazon fled from the floor,
• And nought remained on its track;
• And high in the darkened window-pane
• 640The shield and the crown were black.