HENRY. 'Tis well; and now brave gentlemen of

France

Good e'en be with you all. Let the dawn find us Each at his post.

DU GUESCLIN. My word shall be QUEEN

BLANCHE!

HENRY. And mine-KING HENRY!

DU GUESCLIN. They'll do well together.

[The lords rise from their seats; a Trumpet is heard.

HENRY. What means this trumpet? thrice, too? [Enter a Castilian Herald in his tabard,

HERALD.

attended by Officers, &c.

By my mouth

Thus to King Sancho's baseborn son, Don Henry

Of Transtamara, speaks his rightful liege

The King, Don Pedro of Castille.

Bold bastard,

That darest, not remembering the black curse
Which lies upon the memory of Count Julian,
To ape his ancient treason, and become
The guide of foreign spears into the heart
Of the fair Spanish land-I, born thy prince,
The lawful son and heir of thy dead father,
Whose erring love begot thee of a slave,
Bearded by thee within mine heritage,

Thee and the Bourbon's vassals whom thou guidest,

I full of scorn and wrath, as well I may be,

Have pity on all those their fair allegiance

Due to the Majesty of France hath led

Thus far within my realm-albeit their swords

Are girded on their thighs to serve the cause

Of my most sinful rebel; nor against

Even those, my own born liegemen, whom thy cunning

Hath led astray, so that forgetting oath

And fealty and solemn plight of homage,

They stand with thee against their Sovereign's

Am I entirely steeled. Therefore, in presence
Of brave Du Guesclin and his captains and
The Spaniards that are with them, I make offer
Of truce from this time till to-morrow's sunset,
Within which space at the cool dawn 'twere best-
Let lists be set upon the open field

Between these camps; and let the Lord Du Guesclin,
Upon the part of Henry Transtamara,

And the most noble Castro upon mine,

Be umpires of the day—and man to man,

And horse to horse-with lance, sword, mace, and

knife

Let two, whose hostile banners bear one sign,
Appeal to the unseen eye of God for judgment
On their conflicting titles; let the winner

Be undisputed king; unfearing love
Rest between him, whoever he may be,

And all that are this day encamped here,

Moor, Frenchman, Spaniard; and let him who loses Have death or exile; so shall knightly blood

Keep knightly veins, and wives' and mothers' eyes On either side the rugged Pyrenees

Retain their tears unwept'; so France in honour,

And Spain in peace, sweep from all memory
The traces of this tumult. I, the king,

Speak so:-Don Henry, called of Transtamara,

[Flings down his gauntlet.

Now heaven defend!

Liftest thou King Pedro's glove?

ONIS.

That voice!

HENRY. [stepping forward] Right willingly

DU GUESCLIN. [rising, and laying his hund on
Henry's arm] Forbear, rash king!

Herald! go back in safety as thou camest,

And tell thy master that the King Don Henry

Would willingly have lifted up the glove

Thy hand flung down-but that Du Guesclin stayed him.

HENRY. French Lord, I do command thee, let

me pass.

DU GUESCLIN. Nay, nay King Henry-thou art

not my king.

HENRY. Thou art the vassal of my brother of
France,

And thou art here because my quarrel's his.

DU GUESCLIN. Yes; but his quarrel is not thine,

Lord King

Nor, when he kissed my baton at the Louvre

Did he command me to entrust the vengeance,

For which dead Blanche's blood doth cry to heaven
And him, the royal brother of her blood,
To any Spanish hand-prince's or king's.
We, De la Houssaye, and Le Begue, and I,
And ten good score of noblemen besides,
With all the spears that love or chivalry
Has clustered at our backs-must we stand by
And let the murderer of the Lady Blanche,
The sister of our king, conquer or fall,
According as one Spaniard or another

Couches his lance the firmest, in our sight--

Had Henry of Transtamara ne'er been crowned-
Aye, had he ne'er been born, thinkest thou my king
Would have sat still upon his father's throne,

And bid his priests sing masses for the soul
Of unrevenged Blanche.

I lift this glove;
I place it in the front of this my basnet,
Which here, for lack of worthier, represents
The coronetted helmet of King Philip.
Do as ye will, thou, and the Lord of Onis,
This bishop, and as many Spaniards more
As are encamped with us-I speak for France,

E

And I will have a field, an open field,

A bloody field for Blanche !

HERALD.

A bloody field!

So be it I shall know my glove again.

DU GUESCLIN. Thy glove?

HERALD. King Pedro's glove. I speak for him. DU GUESCLIN. Thou speakest in safety whatsoe'er thou speakest.

HERALD. (taking off his cap.) I speak in safety since Du Guesclin says so,

I am King Pedro! Doth King Henry know me ? Kneel slave!

HENRY.

(starting back, and drawing his sword,)

Thou murderer! hast no sword?

DU GUESCLIN. If he had fifty none were drawn
to-night.

This sacred garb which God and man respect,
And mine own words do save thee. Go in peace.

PEDRO. I came not hither to make speeches, nor

See I fit judge to sit and hold the balance

Between my breath and thine. Therefore, Du Guesclin,

Farewell. We meet to-morrow. Ynigo Onis Thou hadst a playmate once. Ha! Father Joseph, Who drew that bare scalp from a monkery,

And clapped a mitre on't? Sweet lords, good night.

[Exit Pedro.