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Oh Lord ! oh Lord !
[He is taken out.
Bring them away: we'll hear them at the Stadt-house,
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.
When I forgive him, may the stars rain down
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.
He'll be the worse,
Let but the council hear me; I shall tell
'Tis now their time to meet; but the young king Lies long a-bed. Here comes my Lord of Burgundy.
Enter DUKE OF BURGUNDY.
Good-morrow, sirs, good-morrow! So, your stars,
I give your highness thanks.
His grace of Bourbon, sir, is misdirected;
They shall rue it dearly. To turn aside ten leagues, ten Flemish leagues, With sixty thousand men! 'tis moonish madness!
Sir Fleureant here, who left the rebel camp
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. .
They are my words, they are my very words;
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 !
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.
That may be ;
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.
But how can I be absent from the board
A seizure, say,
There is a sound
Of horses' feet.
Then try it, Lestovet;
Hark, my lord,
Farewell to you; improve your
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.
You'll tell them I am here.
Before they rise
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.
My brother of Burgundy is sick to-day;