ARTEVELDE. That is all well. Send me the captains there. [Exit VAN RYK. I go, my fairest! Should I not return, There's nothing here that I shall leave with pain What strange forgetfulness appears it now ELENA. Farewell, my lord. ARTEVELDE. God and good angels guard thee through all time, We meet no more, God grant us so to die In peace with him, that we may meet hereafter. ELENA. Farewell, my lord. ARTEVELDE. And is it thus we part? Enough, enough; Full hearts, few words. Yet I have more to say. I might have wiselier done and kindlier too, More righteously and clearly to my conscience, I would that I might be preserved to-day; ELENA. Try me no further, Artevelde; go, go; ARTEVELDE. This fair hand trembles. Dearest, be thou calm; ELENA. Oh God! I hate him! Why is he with thee wheresoe'er thou goest? To see his fiendish face! Why is it he "T is better for her to be thus bereft. One other kiss on that bewitching brow, [Exeunt. SCENE VI. THE WESTERN SIDE OF THE LIS. A watch-fire in advance of the French Encampment. Two SOLDIERS of the Watch. FIRST SOLDIER (sings). Four stakes and a mat Make a very good house : SECOND SOLDIER. The devil catch thy breath and mar thy singing! FIRST SOLDIER (still singing). More happy are we than the count and the earl, The why and the wherefore- Hath nothing to care for. SECOND SOLDIER. Be still, I say; I hear a trumpet now. 'T is a reveillée; bundle up your blankets, And hie we to the captain of the watch. SCENE VII. THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE LIS. [Exeunt. VAN ARTEVELDE, his PAGE, and SIR FLEUREANT OF HEURLÉE. ARTEVELDE. They gather on the left. Fly to Vauclaire, Were at his heels. [Exeunt VAN ARTEVELDE and PAGE. SIR FLEUREANT. He is at yours, my lord. SCENE VIII. A RISING GROUND, ENTRENCHED AND STRONGLY GUARD ED, IN THE REAR OF THE FRENCH HOST. The KING, attended by the LORDS of Coucy and PoicTIERS, the BASTARD OF ST. POULE, &c. MESSENGERS arriving and departing. THE LORD OF COUCY. What! crossed the bridge alive? THE KING. Well, well; what then? MESSENGER. He poured himself upon the Breton flank, THE KING. Ho! my horse! My lords, do you your pleasures; it is mine THE LORD OF POICTIERS. Your majesty should bear in mind another ! |