 | The Works of Sir Henry Taylor |  |
Scene VII.
—Another part of the Field.Artevelde's Page following an Archer.
Page.
Stay, hearken.
Archer.
Od's my body! what is here?
A mannikin at arms? Why clutch me, friend?
Art thou afraid?
Page.
Take that for asking.
175
Slain
With buffet of a mighty man of war!
Well, thou hast mettle; what's hy will with me?
Page.
I am thy Captain's page; he sends to know
Where D'Arlon fights.
Archer.
So; stop, then; with thine eye
If thou canst follow forth yon grey stone wall
Down to the hollow, and where farther on
Again it rises, thou shalt see a crowd
Of fighting men, and in their thickest front
The pennon of the Lord of Arlon flies—
By Heaven! But I think no—a minute since
It there was flying, but I think 'tis down.
[Exit Page.
Enter Artevelde, with Followers from the one side, and Van Ryk with Followers from the other.
Artevelde.
How is't with you? On our side all is well.
One half their host is founder'd in the swamp,
The other full in flight.
Van Ryk.
On our side too
They all have fled; but farther down the field
The D'Arlon still stands fast.
Artevelde.
Set on,—set on—
Make for the spot. But hurt ye not that Knight.
| The Works of Sir Henry Taylor | |