The Flemings were in France, and Auzain burned. We fled away; and looking back, beheld Our humble dwelling flaming like a torch. So, then, quoth I, we'll to my Lord the King, BURGUNDY. Thou hast done well; Retire His Majesty will bring thy case : Before the council. Hold thyself prepared [Exit Yeoman. I think my royal cousin, though he's young, Such wrongs as these. Your Majesty has heard: With sharpest tooth: let this have leave to grow, Dukes, earls, and knights, shall be no more accounted Than as the noblest and the loftiest trees, Which, when the woodsman walks the forest through, He marketh for the axe. Your Majesty, When once you take the field, shall make brief work With the base Flemings, and with one sharp blow Of this Van Artevelde, which chipped the shell To hold us, and that now are fledged and entered. Leading your gallant troops. KING. To morrow, uncle ! We will be armed and lead our troops to-morrow. Let it be done to-morrow. BOURBON. Should the council Declare for war, your force can not so soon BURGUNDY. No matter. Speak boldly to the council as to us, And if you'd presently be in the field Be diligent to learn your speech—come inBoth that you have and something I'll put to it Touching this yeoman's grief come in with meHo! take away this hawk-and you shall have it. [Exeunt DUKE OF BURGUNDY with the KING. BOURBON. My brother, Fleureant, is all too hot In this affair; he's ever taking starts, And leaving them that he should carry with him. SIR FLEUREANT. My lord, You shall perceive to-morrow at the board How vast and voluble a thing is wit, And what a sway a little of it hath With councillors of state. My Lord of Burgundy And stamp and strike his fist upon the board, Shall threaten direful war. BOURBON. The constable, The Earls of Ewe, and Blois, St. Poule, and Laval, Are to my certain knowledge clean against him. SIR FLEUREANT. Van Artevelde, Though obstinate at times, is politic too, And lacks not understanding; he'll not brave BOURBON. I spake with one last night who came from Bruges, With trinketry, the plunder daily brought By Van den Bosch's marauders. Went and came Late domiciled with me, the girl Elena. That lady hath a hook that twitches still. If what I heard in Gascony be true You claimed her from Van Artevelde in vain, Who answered not your missives. |