University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

—A Chamber in the Earl's Palace.
The Earl and Gilbert Matthew.
Earl.
And thus, if all that we have heard be true,
Last night's ill news this morning somewhat mends.
There's reason to surmise these granaries
Were not destroy'd by chance, and that the hand
Which did us this good service may do more.
Meantime we'll pray the Bishop and the Duke
To let no victuals pass their lands.

Gilbert.
In that
You shall do well, my Lord. I know that folk;
No poison works so wastingly amongst them
As a low diet—yea, it brings them down.
There'll be a hundred thousand mouths in Ghent
Gaping like callow jackdaws. Ah! I know them;
The men of battle are full feeders all;
By the strong hand they live and help themselves
With griping of the rest; when famine comes,
'Tis worse to those, seeing that theretofore
They were too gross of body; worse to these,
For they were pinched already.

Earl.
That is true.

Gilbert.
Yea, Sir, I know the White-Hoods. Wait awhile,
And when they feel the vulture in their gut
They shall be busy whetting of their beaks.
Wait till they hunger, and not two in Ghent
Shall be of one opinion.

Earl.
In God's time
Distress shall breed dissensions as thou say'st.
We'll trust to that, and therefore have great heed
To block them out from access of provision.
The country is well wasted thereabouts
And what they get must travel far: ere long
We'll cut them off from Brabant and from Liege.

Enter the Lord of Arlon.
D'Arlon.
My Lord, I do beseech you make me quit
Of Occo for my guest, and give us leave
For instant combat.

Earl.
Walter, art thou mad?
The Lord of Occo! What's thy breach with him?
He is since yesterday, with thy good leave,
Our very worthy friend.

D'Arlon.
My Lord, my Lord,
He is since yesterday, if not before,
The very lewdest villain that was e'er
A blur and stain to knighthood.

Earl.
Say'st thou so?
What are thy reasons?

D'Arlon.
With a violent hand
And treacherous he carried off from Ghent
The noblest of her ladies and the best,
Whose honour he attempted yesternight
Beneath my roof: and here on her behalf
And on my own, your Highness I entreat
That you give order to have lists prepared
Where I may meet the miscreant spear to spear
And do God's will upon him.

Earl.
Soft, my son;
I'll have no fighting for a private cause
Till Ghent be down. I cannot spare a spear;
And this were but a childish cause at best
For breaking one. The honest dames of Ghent
Have scarce deserved protection at our hands;
And when the time shall come, as come it will,
That Ghent is storm'd and sack'd, they'll have no more
Than their deserts: free quarters shall they give
To lusty knight, hot squire, and man-at-arms.
Shall they not, Gilbert?

Gilbert.
Sir, the dames of Ghent
Must take what comes.

Earl.
Then Occo sinn'd not much
To seize occasion by the forelock,—ha?

Gilbert.
My Lord, he did but what was just and right.

D'Arlon.
Peace, Master Gilbert Matthew—stand apart;
I seek an audience direct and free,
No craft of juggling renegade betwixt
To interpose and toss me to and fro
The words that please him or that please him not.
My Lord, you know what service I have done,
And with what voluntary heart, not bound
By duty or allegiance to bear arms,
For in my native land the while was peace.
I scarce am call'd a man, and service yet
I count by years, nor leave a winter out.
I was the nursling of your camp, my Lord,
And played with weapons ere my hands had strength
To lift an iron basnet to my head;
The war-horse neigh'd to see me when my legs
His breadth of back bestrided scarce aslope,
And rarely hath it been from that time forth
That I have housed when men-at-arms took horse.
This it befits not me to say, my Lord,
Save for the just conclusion: I entreat
That if it square not with your ways and will
To grant the combat I am bound to claim,
I then have leave to fold my banner up
And quit your camp.

Earl.
Come, Walter, come, you're idle;
When cause and opportunity are rife
For reasonable fighting, we might well
Dispense with all knight-errantry. Enough;
See the moon out, and if thy humour hold
It shall have way; the next that shines, I trust,
Shall cast upon the battered walls of Ghent
A thorough light.

D'Arlon.
Which if I live to see
I'll claim the combat. Fare you well, my Lord.

[Exit.
Earl.
Was ever man, with denizens for foes
And foreigners for friends, so plagued as I!
My bravest Knight would cast away his life
To do me a disservice, with more zeal
Than he was used to serve me with: denied,
Straight he shall tell me he was born elsewhere
And owes me no allegiance.

Gilbert.
By your leave,
I could not wish your Highness better luck
Than that the fools you count amongst your friends
Were number'd with your foes,—or with the dead.

Enter Attendant.
Attendant.
According to the summons, please your Grace,
The Lords are met in Council.

Earl.
I shall come.
Attend me, Gilbert, when the board breaks up,
And thou shalt know the issue. Come to dine.
And Sirrah, tell the butler that to-day
I shall drink brandy. From all use of wine
I'm interdicted by a sacred vow
Till Ghent's submission free me. Be it soon!