University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—Night. A Dingle in the outskirts of the Camp behind a Sutler's Tent.
Van Kortz, to whom enter Van Muck.
Van Kortz.
Who's there—Van Muck? halloa, you, boy! what speed?

Van Muck.
Hush, hush! speak low; is no one here but you?

Van Kortz.
No jolly soul beside.

Van Muck.
Has the watch past?

Van Kortz.
By my permission, yes. I drew a shaft
Chock to the steel, and from behind this tree
Aim'd it at Serjeant Laubscher's black old heart
In quittance of a debt I've owed him long;
But, pooh! I let him pass.

Van Muck.
Why, were you mad?
It would have baulk'd our meeting.

Van Kortz.
What care I?

Van Muck.
It is a matter of five hundred marks,
White money down.

Van Kortz.
Ay, let me see it down
And I'll believe you.

Van Muck.
He will soon be here,
And then you'll—here he is——no, 'tis but Bulsen.

Enter Jock Bulsen.
Bulsen.
Well, is all right? 'tis close upon the hour.

Van Kortz.
Nothing is stirring. Forth from the trees —stand forth
That he may see us, lest he miss the spot.
Art certain that he'll bring the money?

Van Muck.
Yes,
I saw it in his hands.

Van Kortz.
Why, hark ye then—
What need to go elsewhere for gold that's here?

Van Muck.
He gives it us for taking letters hence
To Ghent and Bruges and Yypres.

Van Kortz.
Hold thy peace
Thou nick-ear'd lubber; what have we to do
With whys and wherefores? Here he brings the gold;
And hence he takes it not, if we be men.
What say ye?

Bulsen.
Cut his throat.

Van Muck.
How now! how now!
I would not for the world.

Van Kortz.
Pluck up thy heart.
Hast courage but for half a sin? As good
To eat the Devil as the broth he's boil'd in.

Van Muck.
What would ye do? for mercy's sake for bear!
'Twas I that brought him here, and God He knows
I did not go about to take his life.

Van Kortz.
Why, go thy way then; two like me and Jock
Are men enough.

Bulsen.
Enough to win the spoil,
And by that token, friend, to share it too.

Van Kortz.
Go to the Devil with thy dolorous cheer;
There is no manhood in thee. Get thee gone,
Or I shall try six inches of my knife
On thine own inmeats first.

Bulsen.
Thou'dst best begone;
Thou art but in the way.

Van Kortz.
Go, pudding-heart!
Take thy huge offal and white liver hence,
Or in a twinkling of this true-blue steel
I shall be butching thee from nape to rump.

Bulsen.
Go thou thy ways, and thank thy prosperous stars
Thou art let live.

Van Muck.
I am rewarded well
For bringing this about! but ye shall see
If it be better for you.

Bulsen.
Hold, come back—
What, fast and loose—is that your game?—soho!
I see him coming.

Sir Fleureant
(without).
Soft! was that the tent
He spoke of? surely then—or—nay, I know not—
Where am I going?

Van Kortz.
Come along, Sir, come—
Where art thou going?—I will tell thee where—
Going to grass, Sir Fleureant of Heurlée,
With thy teeth upward—may that serve thy turn?
Holloa, then, come along!

Bulsen.
Beware, beware!
Thou art the noisiest cut-throat of them all;
Will nothing stop thy tongue? This way, Sir, here.

Enter Sir Fleureant of Heurlée.
Van Muck
(passing between Sir Fleureant and the others.)
Your sword, Sir Fleureant! stand upon your guard;
We are not safe—there oft are men about
At such dark hours as this that lie in wait—
Look to your guard—but we shall be a match
For more than one such!

Bulsen.
Never fear, Van Muck;
If any such should break upon us here
We'd parley with them first and see what good
Might come of fighting or of speaking fair.

Sir Fleureant.
Where is the danger? you are dreaming, friends!
Let me explain the matter I've in hand.

Van Kortz.
Come, come, Sir Hurly-Burly! where's your metal?
Write us the matter down in yellow and white.
No danger! but there shall be danger. Come,
Out with this money! What if the Regent knew!
Are men like us to be entrapp'd and sold
And see no money down, Sir Hurly-Burly?
We're vile crossbow-men and a knight are you,
But steel is steel and flesh is still but flesh,
So let us see your chinkers.

Sir Fleureant
(to Van Muck)
Sure he's drunk!
Why brought you me a drunken knave like this?

Van Muck.
He is not drunk, Sir; better that he were;
If they are for foul play, so am not I,
Nor did I mean it.

Sir Fleureant.
Ay, is that their game?
Sirs, ye mistook our honest friend Van Muck!
I could not in hard money bring you here
More than a moiety of the sums you'll earn
By carrying of my letters; it is thus
So much I'll pay you now, and as much more
You will receive in France from Hetz St. Croix,
King Charles's master of accompt. The King
Gave order for the payments.

Bulsen.
It is well;
We will convey your letters, Sir, with speed.

Van Kortz.
We'll trust to meet you afterward at Court
To see us justly paid.

Sir Fleureant.
Inquire for me
When you arrive at Senlis or at Lisle,
Or wheresoe'er the Court may then abide.
Here are the letters and the skins of gold
I give with each. The word is now “Despatch!”
Speak not, nor eat nor drink with friend or foe,
But each man take his wallet on his back
And steal away. No lack of Frenchmen's friends
You'll find at Bruges or Ypres. Who they are
These letters will inform you: and at Ghent
Though France may find less favour with the herd,
Still are there some that will befriend you. Hence!
What noise is that?

Van Muck.
The second watch.

Sir Fleureant.
Away!
[Exeunt Van Muck, Kortz, and Bulsen.
Now if one miscreant of the three play false,
A potsherd squares the value of this head.
Speed is my best safe-conduct, then, to France.