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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. (A 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:

Here in the hospital expir'd but now
Of many wounds a Florentine, by name
Romero, who, or ere he died, for shrift

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 MATTHEW.

How say'st thou that he lied? Sirs, it is true

I with this craven beggarly companion—
Of whose accompliceship to do the deed,
And not the deed itself, I speak with shame—
I with this caitiff truly did conspire,

For good and ample reasons, to remove

Sir Walter D'Arlon from this troublesome world.

Such chances as no prudence could forefend,
Have baulked my purpose, and I go myself.

Wherefore, sirs, God be with you! To the block!
What are ye dreaming of, ye sluggish hinds?
ARTEVELDE (signs to the Men at Arms, who lead out
GILBERT MATTHEW).

Aye, Gilbert, God forgive thee for thy sins!

Thou steppest statelily the only walk

Thou hast to take upon this solid earth.
Full many a better man less bravely dieth.
Take forth the other too.

OCCO.

Stop hear me yet.

If through pretext of justice I am doomed,
Some better witness and more credible

Than Gilbert or Romero should depose
To guilt their spite would falsely fix upon me.

He

Enter VAN RYK, conducting ADRIANA, who throws herself into the arms of VAN ARTEVELDE. supports her, and addresses himself to Occo.

ARTEVELDE.

Lo! here a witness! look upon this face,

And bid death welcome. Lead him to the block.

ADRIANA.

Oh, spare
him; speak not now of shedding blood,
Now, in this hour of happiness! Oh, spare him!

Vengeance is God's, whose function take not thou!

Relent, Van Artevelde, and spare his life.

ARTEVELDE.

Not though an angel plead. Vengeance is God's;

But God doth oftentimes dispense it here
By human ministration. To my hands

He render'd victory this eventful day
For uses higher than my happiness.

Let Flanders judge me from my deeds to-night,
That I from this time forth will thus proceed,
Justice with mercy tempering where I may :
But executing always. Lead him out.

(Occo is led out.)

Now, Adriana, I am wholly thine.

(The curtain falls.)

END OF THE FIRST PART.

The curtain falls upon the fancied stage,
The tale half told : here rest thee, reader sage ;
Pause here and trim thine intellectual light,

Which, more than mine, shall make my meanings bright.
That ancient writer whose romantic heart
Lov'd war in every shape,―its pride, its art,
Its shows, appurtenance,—whose page is still
The theatre of war, turn where we will,-
That old historian, of whose truthful text
I dog the heels,- —me whither leads he next?
To dark descents he guides me; sad and stern,
Him following forth, the lesson that I learn ;
That in the shocks of powers so wild and rude,
Success but signifies vicissitude;

That of that man who seeks a sovran sphere,

The triumph is the trial most severe.

And yet in times so stormy, in a land
Where virtue's self held forth a bloody hand
To greet armed justice,-in such times as these
Still woman's love could find the way to please.

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