'Twas I look'd out and emptied down a bucket. A man! God help us! no.

VAN MUCK.

Go in and see.

[Some of the men enter the house.

WOMAN.

Walk in, good gentlemen, walk in and welcome;
You see my humble house: one room below,
And one above. Sir, will you not walk in?

VAN MUCK.

No, no; I'll keep the door.

WOMAN.

These times, sweet sir,

Are hard for widow'd women and their babes.

[The Men come out again.

ONE OF THE MEN.

'Tis as she says three children are asleep In the cock-loft, and there is none beside.

VAN MUCK.

Good even to you, dame. Friends, follow me.

[Exeunt VAN MUCK and his Men.

WOMAN.

Beshrew your hearts, ye filthy dogs of Ghent !

The devil catch you by the throat! for once
You've miss'd your game. Ah, my sweet lord, away!

SCENE IX.-The Market-place of Bruges.-In front, VAN ARTEVELDE, with CLARA and D'ARLON. Next, UKENHEIM, FRANS ACKERMAN, VAN NUITRE, and other Leaders. Behind them are crowds of armed Followers and Attendants, bearing torches; of whom some companies march off from time to time under orders from their Captains, and others remain keeping guard over prisoners and spoil.

ARTEVELDE.

War hath dealt hardly with the noble D'Arlon;
Him gold not ransoms, and to stricter bonds
A captive knight was never yet consign'd.

[Turning to his Followers.

Van Muck returns not. Who amongst you all
Hath eye of lynx and leveret's foot to speed
Through all the town with inquisition sure,
And leave no corner of a house unsearch'd.
Where is Van Ryk?

UKENHEIM.

He left us at the gates.

ARTEVELDE.

True, true, despatch'd by me upon an errand;
He will be here anon. Then, Ukenheim,
Go thou, with such assistance as thou wilt,
Upon the quest, through every lane and street.
Take him, if possibly ye can, alive.

Evil and folly hath he wrought against us,
But never treason; he had wrong'd us less
But for the renegades that gave him counsel.
Bring forth the Lord of Occo.

[Occo is brought forward bound. So, my lord!

Enter VAN MUCK and his party.

VAN MUCK.

A prisoner, sir, we bring; 'tis Gilbert Matthew.

And not the earl?

ARTEVELDE.

VAN MUCK.

"Tis said that he's escaped,

And ta'en the road to Lisle. He lay some space
Hid in a hovel till the search went by,

And then he fled away.

Young upstart, what wouldst thou with Gilbert Matthew?

ARTEVELDE.

Be patient, sir; you'll know it. Where art thou,
Frans Ackerman? Ere midnight let me see
A hundred waggons on their way to Ghent,
Loaden with corn and wine. At dawn send forth
To Damme and Sluys, and empty out their stores
For a fresh convoy. Have me men prepared
To ride to Ypres, Courtray, Cassel, Bergues,
To Poperinguen, and to Rousselaere,

And bid the mayor and burghers of each town

Send me its keys. Well met, bold Van den Bosch!

Enter VAN DEN BOSCH, with followers.

Well met at Bruges, my brethren in arms!
As ye were brave, so be ye temperate now.
Let not the small-crafts suffer. Spare their blood,
For they but followed in the train of power,
And many wish'd us in their hearts no ill.
To all shall plunder plentifully flow
Out of the coffers of the rich; but him
That spills a foreigner's or craftsman's blood
I mulct of all his share, and, this night past,
The price (not willingly so long postponed,
But needfully for this tumultuous night)
Of all blood-guiltiness is paid in blood.
Take heed of what I say; ye ought to know
For good or ill my promises are kept.
The debt of vengeance which is due to Ghent
You shall behold acquitted where you stand.

[Turning to Occo and GILBERT MATTHEW. Look, Van den Bosch, upon your former friends, And tell me what's their due.

VAN DEN BOSCH.

In this world, death,

And after that let Satan tend his own.

I should commend their bodies to the rack,
But that I'm loth so long to keep their souls
Out of hell-fire.

OCCO.

Thy heart was ever hard;
But, Artevelde, thou wilt not stain thy hands
By killing in cold blood two helpless men!
If thou'rt a soldier, do not such a deed.

Soldiers by soldiers in the field are slain,
Not murder'd in the Market-place.

ARTEVELDE.

I grant thee.

And if the name of soldier can be claim'd

By both or one of you, ye shall not die.
Bring forth the friar.

[4 Friar is brought forward.

Save you, holy Father!

Say in the face of these two that stand here,
That which thou said'st to me.

FRIAR.

Sir, it was this:

Of

Here in the hospital expired but now
many wounds a Florentine, by name
Romero, who, repentant ere his death,
Confess'd to me that he received a bribe
From Gilbert Matthew and Sir Guy of Occo,
To kill the Lord of Arlon, for some spite
That each had to him.

OCCO.

Miscreant, he lied!

Whoe'er procured him, it was never I.
Master Van Artevelde, my Lord of Arlon,
Believe not I would sin in such a sort.

Have mercy on a miserable man!

[Falls on his knees.

Oh God! there's some mistake, or else he lied.

GILBERT.

How say'st thou that he lied? Sirs, it is true
I with this craven beggarly companion-
Of whose accompliceship to do the deed,