"I met on the field of battle a sword that I knew."
"French?"
"Yes, French."
"In the ranks of the Flemings?"
"At their head, Henri; this is a secret which forms a sequel to Salcede's business."
"However, dear brother, here you are, safe and sound, to my great joy; I, who have done nothing yet, must do something, also."
"And what will you do?"
"Give me the command of your scouts, I beg."
"No, it is too dangerous, Henri; I would not say so before strangers, but I do not wish you to die an obscure death. The scouts may meet with some of those horrid Flemings who fight with flails and scythes; you kill one thousand of them, and the last cuts you in two or disfigures you. No, Henri; if you will die, let it be a more glorious death than that."
"My brother, grant me what I ask, I beg; I promise you to be prudent, and to return here."