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VAN MUCK.

Oh Lord! oh Lord!

VAUCLAIRE.

[He is taken out.

Bring them away: we'll hear them at the Stadt-house,
Each by himself. Bring them away at once;

Keep them apart, and let them not have speech
One of another.

ROOSDYK.

If any man make signs,

Despatch him on the spot. Master Vauclaire,
We follow you.

SCENE II.-The French Court at Arras.-An Antechamber in the Maison de Ville. TRISTRAM OF LESTOVET, Clerk of the Council, and SIR FLEUREANT OF HEURLÉE.

SIR FLEUREANT.

When I forgive him, may the stars rain down
And pierce me with ten thousand points of fire!
His whore his leman!

LESTOVET.

Had she been his wife,

A small transgression might have pass'd. Learn thou.
To keep thy hands from meddling with men's whores;
For dubious rights are jealously enforced,

And what men keep for pleasure is more precious
Than what need is they keep.

SIR FLEUREANT.

He'll be the worse,

And knows it. When I fled I left behind

A notion of my purpose. There's none here

Can know like me his weakness and his strength.

Let but the council hear me; I shall tell

What shall be worth to them ten thousand spears.

LESTOVET.

"Tis now their time to meet; but the young king Lies long a-bed. Here comes my Lord of Burgundy.

Enter DUKE OF BURGUNDY.

BURGUNDY.

Good-morrow, sirs, good-morrow! So, your stars,
They tell me, are your good friends still, good Flurry ;
You always come clear off;—well, I'm glad on't.

SIR FLEUREANT.

I give your highness thanks.

BURGUNDY.

Well, Lestovet,

My brother of Bourbon keeps his mind, they say;
He is for Tournay still; 'tis wonderful,
A man of sense to be so much besotted!

LESTOVET.

His grace of Bourbon, sir, is misdirected;
He is deluded by a sort of men

That should know better.

BURGUNDY.

They shall rue it dearly.

To turn aside ten leagues, ten Flemish leagues,
With sixty thousand men! 'tis moonish madness!

LESTOVET.

Sir Fleureant here, who left the rebel camp

No longer past than Wednesday, says their strength Lies wholly eastward of the Scheldt.

SIR FLEUREANT.

The towns

Betwixt the Scheldt and Lis, your grace should know,
Are shaking to their steeple-tops with fear
Of the French force; and westward of the Lis
You need but blow a trumpet, and the gates
Of Ypres, Poperinguen, Rousselaere,
And Ingelmunster gape to take you in.

BURGUNDY.

They are my words, they are my very words;
Twenty times over have I told my brother

These towns would join us if he would but let them;
But he's as stubborn as a mule; and oh!
That constable! Oh, Oliver of Clisson!
That such a man as thou, at such a time,
Should hold the staff of constable of France!
Well! such men are!

LESTOVET.

My lord, I crave your pardon

For so exorbitantly shooting past

My line of duty as to tender words

Of counsel to your highness; but my thoughts
Will out, and I have deem'd that with his grace,
Your royal brother, you have dealt too shortly.
The noble frankness of your nature breaks
Too suddenly upon the minds of men
That love themselves, and with a jealous love
Are wedded to their purposes: not only
His grace of Bourbon, but full many lords
Who bear a part against you in the council,
Would yield upon a gentle provocation,
That stiffen with a rougher.

BURGUNDY.

That may be ;

But, Lestovet, to sue to them to turn!

I cannot do it.

LESTOVET.

May it please your grace

To leave it in my hands. With easier ear
They listen to a man of low condition;
And under forms that in your grace to use
It were unseemly, I can oft approach,

And with a current that themselves perceive not
Can turn the tenour of their counsels.

BURGUNDY.

But how can I be absent from the board

At such a time as this?

LESTOVET.

A seizure, say,

Nay;

Of sudden illness. They'll be here anon,

I think I hear them now.

Of horses' feet.

SIR FLEUREANT.

There is a sound

BURGUNDY.

Then try it, Lestovet;

You are a wise and wary man; this day
I leave the field to you; say that the gout
Confines me to my chamber.

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LESTOVET.

Ha ha! the council! they are men of spirit.
Arouse their passions, and they'll have opinions;
Leave them but cool, they know not what to think.

SIR FLEUREANT.

You'll tell them I am here.

LESTOVET.

Before they rise

You shall be heard at large; but leave to me
To choose the fitting moment. Hide without
Until the Usher have a sign: the mace

Shall trundle from the board, which he shall hear;
Then come at once as one that from his horse
Leaps down, and reeking hurries in to tell
A tale that will not wait.

SCENE III.-The Council Chamber.—The KING is brought in by the DUKE OF BOURBON, and seated on a Chair of State at the head of the Board; three seats are placed below, on two of which the DUKES of BOURBON and BERRY place themselves. The other Councillors then enter, and take their seats in succession, to the number of twelve; to wit, SIR OLIVER OF CLISSON, Constable of France; SIR JOHN OF VIEN, Admiral of France; the LORD OF COUCY, SIR WILLIAM OF POICTIERS, SIR AYMENON OF PUMIERS, the BASTARD OF LANGRES, SIR RAOUL OF RANEVAL, the LORD OF ST. JUST, the LORD OF SAIMPI, SIR MAURICE OF TRESSIQUIDY, SIR LOIS OF SANXERE, and the BEGUE OF VILLAINES. A desk is placed opposite the lower end of the Board, at which is seated TRISTRAM OF LESTOVET, Clerk of the Council.

BOURBON.

My brother of Burgundy is sick to-day;
Your majesty excuses his attendance.

X

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