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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,
And tell what's come to pass.

BURGUNDY.

Thou hast done well;

Retire His Majesty will bring thy case

:

Before the council. Hold thyself prepared
To tell thy story there.

[Exit Yeoman.

I think my royal cousin, though he's young,
Bears yet a mind too mettlesome to brook

Such wrongs as these. Your Majesty has heard:
The Flemish hordes lift plunder in your realm,
Driving your subjects from their peaceful homes,
Burning, destroying, wheresoe'er they reach,
And ever on nobility they fall

With sharpest tooth: let this have leave to grow,
And French insurgents shall from Flemish learn
The tricks of treason,-German boors from both;
Till kings and princes, potentates and peers,
Landgraves, electors, palatines, and prelates,

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
Cut short by the head some twenty thousand treasons
Hatched lately, so to say, beneath the wings

Of this Van Artevelde, which chipped the shell
Two months agone when Paris grew too hot

To hold us, and that now are fledged and entered.
I would your Majesty were now in arms,

Leading your gallant troops.

KING.

To morrow, uncle !

We will be armed and lead our troops to-morrow.
We'll ride the chestnut with the bells at his heels.

Let it be done to-morrow.

BOURBON.

Should the council

Declare for war, your force can not so soon
Be drawn together as your highness thinks,
Though it lies mainly hereabouts.

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.
He'll fright the council from their calmer sense,
And drive them to some rash resolve.

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
Will blaze and thunder through a three hours' speech,

And stamp and strike his fist upon the board,
Whilst casements rattling and a fall of soot

Shall threaten direful war.

BOURBON.

The constable,

The Earls of Ewe, and Blois, St. Poule, and Laval,
Guesclin, St. Just, the Seneschal of Rieux,
Raoul of Raneval,-all these, and more,

Are to my certain knowledge clean against him.
They deem a mission should be sent to Flanders
Before the sword be drawn, and with my will
Nought else shall come to pass.

SIR FLEUREANT.

Van Artevelde,

Though obstinate at times, is politic too,

And lacks not understanding; he'll not brave
The wrath of France if he be well entreated.

BOURBON.

I spake with one last night who came from Bruges,
And on his way had sojourned in the camp
At Oudenarde, where, when the turbulent towns
Behind his back can spare him from their broils,
Van Artevelde o'ersees the leaguering force.
There was a market in the camp, he said,
And all things plentiful,-fruit, cheese, and wine,
All kinds of mercery, cloth, furs, and silks,

With trinketry, the plunder daily brought

By Van den Bosch's marauders. Went and came
All men that chose from Brabant, Hainault, Liege,
And Germany; but Frenchmen were forbidden.
Van Artevelde, he said, in all things apes
The state and bearing of a sovereign prince;
Has bailiffs, masters of the horse, receivers,
A chamber of accompt, a hall of audience,
Off gold and silver eats, is clad in robes
Of scarlet furred with minever, gives feasts
With minstrelsy and dancing night and day
To damsels and to ladies,-whom amongst
Pre-eminent is that Italian whore

Late domiciled with me, the girl Elena.
To Bruges in company with me she came,
Where waiting till on my return from Liege
I could rejoin her, to the conqueror's hands
She fell when Bruges was taken.

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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.

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