Will ye bestow this power on me? if so, [All shout' Artevelde, Captain of Ghent!' ARTEVELDE. So be it. Now listen to your Captain's first command. On each cross accident, here or without, To cry aloud for peace. This is most hurtful. That whoso shall but talk of terms of peace BURGESSES. He shall, he shall, he shall, We'll kill the slave outright. ARTEVELDE. No: mark me further. If any citizen shall slay another [A pause. Ye speak no word. What do we fight for, friends? for liberty? What is that liberty for which we fight? Is it the liberty to slay each other? choose me, Then better were it we had back again BURGESSES. The man shall die; he shall deserve to die; ARTEVELDE. Hold, hold, my friends! ye are too hasty here. BURGESSES. Kill him who likes, the man shall die; that's law. ARTEVELDE. What further knowledge of my rules ye need Ho! stand apart. VAN DEN BOSCH. Bring in the litter, varlets. Now sirs, let's hear your voices as you go. [Exeunt, with shouts of Artevelde!' SCENE III.-The House Van Merestyn. SIR WALTER D'ARLON and CLARA VAN ARTEVELDE. She is engaged in binding up his arm, which is wounded. CLARA. False knight, thou com'st to see thy ladye love But thou must fight i' the street. Thy hungry sword- The live-long night for this. D'ARLON. God's mercy! lady! Twere a sharp trial, one man to keep lent CLARA. Come, come! confess thyself; make a clean breast. D'ARLON. Could you live backward for a hundred years, F And then live on a hundred years to come, Than I have loved. CLARA. What, what! no truer knight? A seemly word forsooth! Hast many more such ? No truer knight ?-'Tis thus you great lords live With flatterers round you all your golden youth, And know yourselves as much as I know PuckYour heads so many bee-hives; honey'd words Swarm in your ears, and other from your mouth Go buzzing out to ply for sweets abroad; And so your summer wastes, till some cold night The cunning husbandman comes stealthily And there is fire and brimstone for my lords! Hold up this arm-let go my hand, I say— Am I to tie thy bandage with my teeth? Enter ADRIANA. My lord-good heaven! Hold, hush! ADRIANA. Your arm-I fear you're hurt. CLARA. I'll answer for thee. Merely a scratch; A scratch, fair lady,-that, and nothing more; It gives us no concern; 'twas thus we got it: Riding along the streets of this good town, A score of burghers met us, peaceful dronesSaying their prayers, belike; howe'er that be, The senseless men were rapt in such abstraction They heeded not our lordship; whereat we, Unused to such demeanour, shook ourselves, And prick'd them with our lance; a fray ensued, And lo! as we were slaying some fourteen That stay'd our passage, it pleased Providence, Thus gently to chastise us on the arm, Doubtless for some good cause, tho' what, we know not. ADRIANA. My lord, you know her; she is ever thus, Still driving things against you to your face, My Lord of Arlon is too rash, too hot, Too anything CLARA. She sighs and says, too true. ADRIANA. No verily. But why, my lord, come here Yes, tell us why. CLARA. D'ARLON. Behold the very cause. Enter ARTEVELDE. ARTEVELDE (as he enters). Let my guard wait without. CLARA. His guard! What's this? ARTEVELDE. My Lord of Arlon, God be with your lordship! |