, O rebellious people of Belsaye, to deny,
to cast off and wantonly repudiate your rightful allegiance to your
most just, most merciful and most august lord--Ivo, Duke of Pentavalon
(whom God and the saints defend--amen!) and whereas ye have moreover
made captive and most barbarously entreated certain of your lord Duke
his ambassadors unto you sent; now therefore--and let all ears be
opened to my pronouncements, since Holy Church doth speak ye, one and
all, each and every through humble avenue of these my lips--list, list,
O list, rebellious people, and mark me well. For inasmuch as I, Prior
of Holy Cross within Pentavalon City, do voice unto ye, one and all,
each and every, the most sacred charge of Holy Church, her strict
command or enactment, mandate or caveat, her holy decree, _senatus
consultum_, her writ, edict, precept or decretal, namely and to wit:
That ye shall one and all, each and every, return to your rightful
allegiance, bowing humbly, each and every, to the will of your lawful
lord the Duke (whom God and the saints defend) and shall forthwith make
full and instant surrender of this his ancient city of Belsaye unto
your lord the Duke (whom God and the saints defend--amen!) Failing the
which, I, in the name of Holy Church, by power of papal bull new come
from Rome--will, here and now, pronounce this most rebellious city
(and all that therein be) damned and excommunicate!"

Now hereupon, from all the townsfolk crowding wall and turret a groan
went up and full many a ruddy cheek grew pale at this dire threat.
Whereupon the Prior, having drawn breath, spake on in voice more stern
and more peremptory:

"Let now your gates unbar! Yield ye unto your lord Duke his mercy! Let
the gates unbar, I say, lest I blast this wicked city with the most
dread and awful ban and curse of Holy Church--woe, woe in this life,
and, in the life to come, torment and everlasting fire! Let the gates
unbar!"

Now once again the men of Belsaye sighed and groaned and trembled in
their armour, while from crowded street and market-square rose buzz of
fearful voices. Then spake the Reeve in troubled tones, his white head
low-stooped above the battlement.

"Good Prior, I pray you an we unbar, what surety have we that this our
city shall not be given over to fire and pillage and ravishment?"

Quoth the Prior:

"Your lives are your lord's, in his hand resteth life and death,
justice and mercy. So for the last time I charge ye--set wide y