SHOUTS-- (_From over the river._)
Look out! Look out!
(_The men carrying slabs glance back, then throw
their loads down and go fleeing toward the
village._)
CRIES-- Men! Men!
(_The crowd flees, leaving Jardin holding the dwarf
by the collar standing in the road._)
A VOICE--(_From across the bridge._) Let go that boy.
JARDIN--This is a day of miracles. (_Canzler enters._)
Heathen,
Between us is a grave. (_He lays his hand upon his sword._)
CANZLER-- Let go that boy.
JARDIN-- (_Advancing to meet him._)
With Christ in one hand, and in the other this.
(_Canzler draws his sword, and a duel ensues. The
Bailiff, protected by his armor which Canzler
has twice struck and failed to pierce, lays
his blows on as though he would end it all at
once. Canzler deliberately draws back into
the shade of the tree. Lunging madly, Jardin_
_follows him. The villagers reappear with
stones in their hands, and try to get where
they will not hit Jardin when they throw._)
CRIES--Run him through, Bailiff! Run him through!
JARDIN--(_With a lunge._) There!
A CRY-- Ha!
(_Canzler has parried the thrust, and his sword has
passed through the chain hauberk deep into
the Bailiff's breast. The latter staggers
back, his astonishment that steel armor
should be pierced by mortal sword giving way_
_to a look of chagrin, and after endeavoring to
steady himself with the blade of his sword,
falls flat, his armor clanking on the road.
The villagers drop their stones and flee
terror-stricken. Canzler stands for a moment,_
_wipes the perspiration from his brow, then
reaches down and takes up the Bailiff's sword
by the point._)