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Scene IV.
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Scene IV.

The Field of Merle, as in the First Scene. Artevelde, Van Ryk, Van Muck, and others.
Artevelde.
See'st thou yon sweeping section of the road
That leads by Ecdorf to the eastern gate?
My eyes are strain'd, but yet I thought I saw
A moving mass of men.

Van Ryk.
I thought so too.
When I had held mine eyes a minute fix'd
As in a morsel of dry moulder'd cheese
I thought I could descry a tumbling movement.

Artevelde.
Who hath the longest and the clearest sight
Of all our men? go bring him. Nay, stop, stop!
I think we shall not need him: now, look there.
By Heaven, they come! they come! Ha! Van den Bosch!

170

Enter Van Den Bosch.
I give you joy! by Heaven we have our wish.

Van den Bosch.
Yea, Sir, they come, and now, betide what may,
We'll mix the Evil One a mess for supper
In yonder darksome pool.

Artevelde.
A ruddier tinge
Than ever evening cast shall warm its waters
Ere evening colours fade. What ho! Van Serl,
Serve out the victual all. But first, to prayers;
We will be shriven first, and then we'll sup,
And after that we'll cut a road to bed,
Be it in Bruges or in a better place.
Van Ryk, abide thou here and bring me word
If any shall approach by other ways;
And when the foremost of the troop we see
Have past yon broken wall, then sound thy horn,
And I will send thee forces wherewithal
To keep thy post. There's food behind the carts,
Whereof partake with them I'll send thee.

Van Ryk.
Nay,
I shall want nothing, Sir,

Artevelde.
I tell thee eat,
Eat and be fresh. Anon I'll send a Priest.
Van Muck, thou tak'st small comfort in thy prayers;
Put thou thy muzzle in yon tub of wine.
Now, Van den Bosch, or ere the sun go down

171

We'll know Heaven's will.

Van den Bosch.
Have with thee, Artevelde!
Thou art a man of mettle and my friend,
And I would have thee know that should we fall,
Either or both, I bear thee now no grudge;
And so may Heaven forgive my many sins
As I do thee.

Artevelde.
Why, thou art now thyself.
With heart and hand we'll fall upon the foe,
And do the work like brothers. Come thy ways.

[Exeunt all but Van Ryk and Van Muck.
Van Ryk.
Van Muck, I prithee step along the path
That rounds the hill, and mark if on that side
Aught may be stirring.

Van Muck.
Ay, and if there be
I'll shout and hail thee.

[Exit.
Enter Artevelde's Page.
Van Ryk.
Why, my little man,
How cam'st thou hither? 'tis no place for thee.
What, cam'st thou with the army?

Page.
No, from Bruges.

Van Ryk.
What took thee there?

Page.
'Twas I that took myself.
But Mistress Clara wished that I should go.
She sojourns with the Prioress of St. Anne
Till all be over.


172

Van Ryk.
And with her, my boy,
Thou shouldst have stay'd.

Page.
What! in a convent? No,
I think not when a battle is toward.
Besides, the Prioress was all on edge
To hear of what befalls, her sister's son,
Sir Walter D'Arlon, being forth; so me
They charged to keep good watch and bring them word
How he shall fare; but by my halidom
I will not run of errands now; I'll fight.

Van Ryk.
God's mercy on the Knight thou fall'st upon!
Nay, nay, content thee; couch thee by yon carts,
And dream not thou of fighting.

Page.
Is it true
That some half-hour will bring the battle on?

Van Ryk.
Less time than that. Thou see'st how fast they come.
But now we scarce distinguish'd if they moved,
And see,—upon the skirts of yonder mass
We may discern them, single man by man.

Page.
Can you descry the pennons of the Knights
That lead them?

Van Ryk.
Truly, I perceive not one;
A multitude—a mass of heads—nought else—
No banner, pennon, nor a mounted man.
If any Knight be there he comes afoot.

Page.
The Lord of Arlon surely must be there;
He's always with the foremost.


173

Van Ryk.
If he be
His pennon is not.

Page.
Nay, but look again;
I see some Knights that gallop up behind,
And pennons now come streaming on the road
Betwixt the town and them.

Van Ryk.
Good faith, 'tis true.
Thou hast sharp eyes.

Page.
And there—upon the bridge—
Whose is that pennon?

Van Ryk.
I shall know anon,
If but yon clump will let me. Come this way
And we shall see them better. Through the gap.