Floris, Count of Holland (onder ps. Niels Kobet)
(1976)–Frits Bolkestein– Auteursrechtelijk beschermd
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Scene I
A room in Floris' castle.
Roderick and a footman.
roderick
This very night it was, and just as cold,
When, forty years ago, the Father of
Our Count rode off to fight the Frisians
And never did return.
footman
How did he die?
roderick
God knows - he left the camp one night and none
That saw him since. He must have run into
A crowd of those barbarians; and they,
Not realising his identity
Must on the spot have put him to the sword
Thereafter to regret the ransom they
Impetuously lost.
How young he was,
Count William, when he died, but twenty eight,
And mourned by all that knew him, as indeed
Was right, for not for nothing did he get
Elected Holy Roman Emperor.
His manners were restrained and, slow to take
Offence, he always showed himself to be
Of perfect courtesy. He only left
One son, Count Floris, who had just been born.
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footman
Was not his uncle Holland's regent?
roderick
Yes,
But only for two years, until he died,
Struck from his horse at his own tournament.
The only thing he did was to arrange
For Floris to be married, when sixteen,
To Beatrice, the Count of Flanders' child,
So unity might grow between these lands
Of single speech.
An evil thing, that death:
His sister, who thereafter took his place,
Invited trouble from all sides. The land
Was torn between the powerful who ground
The weak and poor. The cities built strong walls.
Authority was gone and law was lost.
And Floris, but a child, twelve years of age,
When Count of Holland he became - too young,
The barons must have thought, to hold his own.
The first he did was loudly to proclaim
That he would soon avenge his father's death.
He borrowed money, borrowed men and then,
His forces ill-equipped, invaded swamps-
For that is where they live, those Frisians.
A dreadful error it turned out to be:
The Frisians not only killed his men
But in so doing also gave the sign
For peasants cities barons to revolt
From end to end of this once peaceful land.
That was the time when Floris showed his skills.
He did not fight the cities but instead
He reinforced their rights, extended them
And so made them supporters of his cause
Through bonds of gratitude. Nor did he fight
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The peasants, rather chose amongst them those
Whose wealth and influence were such that they
Controlled their neighbourhood. He knighted them
And so gained sturdy friends as counterweight
Against the stubborn nobles, who have since
Been filled with spite and murderous intent.
And those that you see coming there are first
In rank among that vicious grasping lot.
Enter Amstel and Velzen.
amstel
Please tell Count Floris we have come at once,
In answer to his call, and leave us here:
We wish to be alone until such time
As he who now is master of this land
Shall condescend to see his erstwhile peers.
Roderick and footman exeunt.
velzen
You should control yourself.
amstel
How can I when
Not long ago I used to be a free
And independent man, beholden to
No Count or Duke. I was an idiot
To get embroiled in that disastrous fight
With the deceitful Bishop of Utrecht.
When Floris got me off the hook he made
Me pay: I had to grant him all my land
Which he then granted back to me but I
Received it as in liege and so became
A servant to his overweening pride.
velzen
Not only you have suffered thus. I too
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And many other barons were like you:
We've had to reconcile ourselves to new
And second rank.
amstel
If it were that alone
I would with time have learned to bear the load.
He placed a second burden on my back:
My Cousin John he ordered to be killed
When John removed a tenant from his land,
A lowly peasant who, emboldened by
The Count, dared sue my cousin in the court.
And court was scared of Count: John lost his case
And with it lost his temper, drew his sword
And promptly killed the peasant with the judge.
For this Count Floris made him lose his head.
velzen
Your cousin always had been somewhat rash.
amstel
That may be true, but who can tolerate
And suffer lowly peasants that stand proud
Against their Lords and even rise in rank
To equal those whom Providence confirmed
In their prerogatives?
Our present Count
Thinks otherwise and knighted forty louts.
Small wonder that the peasants look upon
Him as their God and blindly follow him.
velzen
Do not forget: contented peasants are
Less likely to revolt and pay more rent.
amstel
How can you be so weak - and how can I
Forget that man then took the daughter of
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My Cousin John and made of her his whore?
velzen
As I recall she did not seem displeased.
amstel
You wait, young man: your wife is beautiful.
Perhaps the Count will soon entrust you with
A task that takes you far from home and when
You finally return perhaps you'll find
That somebody has banked the fire that blazed
In your own marriage bed and that you thus
Bear horns.
velzen
By God, my man, if you....
amstel
Be still!
I see our Count and that accursed monk.
Enter Floris and the Friar.
floris
I thank you both indeed for having come
So urgently at my request, in spite
Of day and hour, for seldom can a night
Have been as grim as this. Yet, as you know,
The iron must be struck when hot and so
One cannot always choose one's time but must
Make use of present opportunity.
And so it is tonight, for I expect
A visit of the Jew, of Nathan, he
That is the Bishop's banker and his leech.
I know you two do not have cause to love
The Bishop of Utrecht. I know that you
Especially, my loyal Amstel, blame
Him for the loss of your prerogatives.
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The time has come for you to take revenge
And grow at his expense. My plan is this.
You know by own experience that he
Is not always, let's say, what one is taught
A Bishop should be like and that his greed
And lust for power often have outstripped
His funds of cash, his credit and his men.
And that is why the Jew is of such use
To Christ's successor in these lands.
And why
I sent for you to come to me at once.
For never have the Bishop's needs been such
That he has sent the Jew in order to
Negotiate a loan from me, who am,
If not an open enemy, no friend,
And pose a threat to his stability.
He wants to borrow money - I to lend.
But not without security: I want
As guarantee that he will pay me back
Two of his most important fortresses.
These castles you must hold for me, so that
When he no longer pays his bills, as I
Am sure wil be the case before the year
Is out, they fall like apples from a tree
Into my lap and from then on will form
A part of my domains.
amstel
You said just now
That we not you should grow at his expense.
floris
Indeed I did and such will be the case,
For I shall grant those fortresses to you:
For you to hold on my behalf but gain
Their revenue.
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amstel
His castles are not near
My lands. What, should the Bishop cut me off?
floris
How can he? When he knows that I'm the one
That holds the strings around his purse's neck
And soon, I hope, around his own?
velzen
I think
Your plan is sound. I should be very pleased
To cut myself a pair of shoes out of
The Bishop's hide. What do you say, my friend?
amstel
It's true: no risk - no gain. I'll go along.
floris
An excellent decision. Now go each
Your private ways until I let you know.
Amstel and Velzen exeunt.
I say - your niece sends you her best regards!
friar
You did not need to make that last remark.
You would spread mustard on a wound!
floris
I know.
I should not do it, but I do dislike
That man, so clearly torn between his greed
For what the Bishop owns and hatred of
Myself. He should be watched with care, that snake,
Lest, when I turn my back on him, he strike
And spread his venom through the wound.
And yet,
A useful man, because so ruled by greed
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That he will swallow any bait to get
What he desires. You saw how readily
He followed Velzen's lead. Poor Velzen, what
A trusting man! Such simplemindedness!
It almost grieves me to make use of him.
friar
You should not underestimate the men
That are, or soon will be, your enemies.
You are too confident, my son. I know
That since your first defeat in that morass,
Against the Frisians, you have done much
To strengthen and repair the base that now
Sustains such power as you have. I know
That you have used the cities to oppose
The discontent of thwarted noblemen
And that as champion of the peasants' cause
You use them to frustrate the barons' wish
To be restored in ancient privilege.
But don't forget the fickle mob that shouts
How much it loves you yet tomorrow wants
Your life because some crazy hothead speaks
To them of new and further benefit.
All power ultimately rests upon
Ideas in men's minds and therefore is
Fragile and yours so in particular.
floris
You are, as always, right. My task is hard,
So difficult, in fact, that sometimes I
Despair of ever bringing to an end
What I've set out to do.
Within these lands
I must sustain the towns in their desire
For prosperous stability; yet if
It ever should occur to them to free
Themselves of my command and feudal rule
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I must be fast and strike at once, before
The rot can spread, as I was forced to do,
Some eighteen years ago, when I set fire
To that rebellious town, so recently
Acquired, of Amsterdam.
In order to
Do that I must be careful not to break
The barons, whom I need to check the pride
Of rising towns, but only humble them
And keep them from combining when my back
Is turned.
And so I am the peasants' friend,
Confirming them in all their humble rights,
Protecting them against the arrogance,
Outrageous greed and impudence of those
Whose lands they work, as I did in the case
Of Amstel's cousin John, that nasty brute.
Those are the triple elements that I
Must hold in evershifting counterpoise.
But these affairs are only half of what
I want to do. The other part is still
More difficult, for it concerns what lies
Beyond the borders of this land. My first
Endeavour must now be to find the grave
Where lies the Father I have never known,
Who luckless died now forty years ago.
And this is why I shortly plan to fight
The Frisians and extirpate the shame
Incurred when I, but eighteen years of age,
Through ill-preparedness and lack of men
Was beaten by that crowd of ruffians.
While doing this I must extend my hold
Upon the Bishop of Utrecht. You know
What I have planned. I'm certain to succeed,
For I am building on the greed of men,
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That surest of foundations.
All this is
But introduction to the hardest task
Of all: the coming war with Guy, the Count
Of Flanders, richest land of Christendom,
Who now intrigues for influence in my
Dominions in the South, which he desires,
And where he sows sour hatred and dissent.
But there I shall need help, for I alone
Cannot defeat the might of Guy Dampierre.
And that is why I seek alliance with
The King of England, Edward, Hammer of
The Scots.
friar
My son, the task that you have set
Yourself is far too much for one man's life.
Content yourself with what's contained within
The borders of your land. It's large enough.
floris
And leave the Frisians, my Father's grave,
And Flanders and the Bishop of Utrecht?
friar
Yes, leave all that - do not exceed the bounds
Of what is possible.
floris
I shall not be at peace
As long as Father's body does not lie
In hallowed ground.
friar
Then go, if go you must.
Enter Roderick.
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roderick
My Lord! The banker Nathan has arrived.
floris
Let him come in.
Exit Roderick.
Enter Nathan.
Be welcome Nathan, on
A night so bitter cold as I cannot
Remember it has ever been before.
nathan
My Lord!
The Bishop of Utrecht sends you
His best regards and hopes that you are well.
floris
I know the reason for your presence here.
I know your master well and so do you.
A Bishop is a man of God in whose
Right hand should be his sceptre which is used
To keep the children of his flock within
The bounds of our most Holy Church and in
Whose other hand is held the Holy Book
In which are kept God's Holy Laws - the Laws
He preaches to his children, so they know
Their duties to their God and fellowmen.
But that is not exactly as your Lord
Has shown himself to be, for in his right
He holds a sword: to rob and to destroy,
To burn, to plunder and to kill, where he
Cannot obtain what he desires by just
The simple word of ‘excommunicate’.
And in his left he holds a purse in which
He gathers all the money simple folk
Have paid to him and to his priests, to pray
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For solace and salvation of their souls.
Yet howsoever many of these men
And humble women are thus duped to part
With their hard-gotten coin, the Bishop's purse
Is never full and stands in constant need
Of further contribution, which explains
Your presence here.
How much does he require?
nathan
My Lord, I am a simple banker and
A Jew who is not much acquainted with
The way a Christian bishop should behave,
But all the better do I know his need
Of five and twenty thousand pounds in gold.
floris
Of what?
nathan
Of five and twenty thousand pounds.
floris
The Bishop has gone mad!
nathan
My Lord, not mad
But filled with the desire to beautify
His city, his cathedral and his court.
floris
You place a pretty mask before a face
That shows dishonesty and greed!
nathan
My Lord!
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floris
However, you do not appear to need
My disabusing you of humankind.
You are a banker and as such you know
What sort of motives drives what sort of men.
I have the money that your master needs.
nathan
My Lord!
floris
But I shall want an interest
And guarantee that he will pay me back.
nathan
My Lord, what are your terms?
floris
As guarantee
I want two of his fortresses and as
For interest, it's two percent per month.
nathan
My Lord, your Christian laws condemn that sort
Of interest as usury: it's not
Allowed!
floris
Since when does Nathan teach the laws
That we as Christians must obey? Since when
Do you as banker not receive your cut
Of any interest that passes through
Your hands?
Of course I am no usurer.
Just let the Bishop put his signature
Upon a draft that states that he shall pay
The sum of one and thirty thousand pounds
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One year from now and I shall send to him
The money he requires. The surplus will
Be shared between us two. That's one percent
Per month for each. I think that even such
A Jew as you would not turn up his nose
At this arrangement.
nathan
Please, my Lord, may I
Retire and put your proposition to
The Bishop? It requires some careful thought.
floris
Of course it does. Come, Father, let us go.
Floris and the Friar exeunt.
nathan
What infinite contempt lies in those words
Of ‘such a Jew as you’; and how they hate
Us, they that quote us first their Christian laws
And then make use of us, the objects of
Their spite, to circumvent those very laws
Which they profess to hold in awe.
When first
We came into these lands we brought along
Our skills of commerce but as soon as they
Began to imitate our livelihood
They told us to restrict our trade to that
Of being bankers, since they feared we might
Outwit and fool them - as indeed we would.
So now the Christians force us Jews to do
What's not allowed to them according to
The precepts of their church.
But we at least
Are safe and left alone here in this land
To make a living and to follow in
The unobtrusive way that has been gone
Before by countless generations of
Our forefathers.
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It's different across
The sea, in England. There my family
And friends were held to be the chattels of
The Crown, protected by the King, and they
Were graciously allowed to thank him for
His bounty and benevolence by means
Of loans that do not carry interest.
But even so they would be pliable
And bear the load that God has placed upon
Their backs, had not the populace become
Inflamed with infamous and sordid lies
Of ritual murder and obscene delight
And so in frenzied ignorance had put
To flame their women children houses books,
As happened not so long ago in York
Where not much more than hundred men escaped
The ghetto's massacre and took refuge
Within the castle where they finally
Preferred to kill themselves to falling in
The hands of the enraged and foaming mob
That stood outside and shouted for their blood.
But now no member of our people lives
Among that sullen race, as all have been
Expelled. They first were asked to meet the bills
For Edward's visit to his lands in France,
To Aquitaine. And when they had been made
So poor that they could no more be of use
To his most Christian majesty, the King
Declared that he preferred to deal with men
That came from Florence and from other towns
In Italy and that were men of Christ.
He therefore threw them out and cancelled all
The debts that a delighted populace
Owed to the hated Jews. So, at one stroke,
He added to his subjects' treasury
Of love for him and to his own of gold.
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My brother Aaron was among the Jews
That lived in London at that time and that
Had hired a ship to take them down the Thames
So they could carry out the King's command.
The master mariner cast anchor till
The ship by ebb remained on sands and then
Enticed the Jews to walk around with him.
But when at last he understood the tide
To turn, he went back to his ship and told
His men to throw him down a rope with which
To draw him up. My brother and his friends
Were swallowed up by grey and swirling waves.
So why indeed should Nathan spurn to act
As instrument of doom for that absurd
And cruel fool, the Bishop of Utrecht?
Nathan exit.
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Scene II
Beatrice's room.
Beatrice. Enter Floris.
floris
My dearest wife... I very much regret
That matters of high policy do not
Allow me to spend as much time with you
As I should like - and as I ought to do,
For no man should neglect his wife. I hope
You pardon me. You know that all I do
Is done according to the interest
Of this our land and therefore of yourself.
beatrice
I am the Count of Flanders' child and so
Accustomed from my childhood to the life
That women of my sort and rank must lead.
floris
The knowledge of your love and loyalty
Will always be a source of strength for me.
But I have not come here to tell you of
Myself but to enquire how you have been,
Now that you find yourself with child again.
beatrice
Six months must lapse before I shall give birth.
It's early still. Yet so far I am well.
But giving birth is nothing as compared
With what comes after: seven times have I
Borne you a child yet only Margaret
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Remains alive. Give God that in my womb
I hold a son and that he stay alive!
floris
A son! It has to be a son! And he
Must live to take the burden of my work
When I shall die. You know this land does not
Accept the principle of feminine
Succession and that in the past a lack
Of sons has led to strife division and
Torment.
This is the more important as
Your Honourable Father, Guy Dampierre,
Seeks influence in Zeeland where he lets
His emissaries speak soft lies of gold
And succour if I should attack and want
To reaffirm hereditary rights.
beatrice
My Lord, perhaps it is but slander that
He seeks to trouble the tranquillity
Of those uncomfortable islands that
Consist of mud and mist. Why should he want
To stir up hatred and dissent along
The borders of his land with yours, when in
The South the King of France, Philip the Fair,
Who's Fair of Countenance but Foul of Soul,
Is striving to impose the dominance
And sway of both his language and his court,
And lay his evergreedy hands on what
Has been acquired in patient years of toil
By Flanders' humble citizens? Why should
My Father then add risks to those that he
Already has instead of seeking to
Secure a Northern friend?
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floris
Because, my dear,
He needs the help of England in his fight
With France but knows that I am just about
To join in an alliance with it's King,
With Edward. Fearing that, in doing so,
I shall succeed in robbing him of his
Most profitable trade - the wool that comes
From English sheep but leaves his towns as cloth-
He wishes to reduce this land in size
And lessen its attractiveness as friend
And Edward's ally.
beatrice
Can't you then take each
One half of this prosperity? Why must
You fight, when half, in peace, is more than would
Be left if one kept all but saw how it
Grew less once war had caused it to decline
And flee to stabler and more peaceful lands?
floris
Dear Beatrice - the English King derives
The greatest part of his prosperity
From taxes that are laid upon the sale
Of any English wool abroad, and so
His officers can keep a careful check
Upon this trade he has decreed that it
May only go to any single place.
It's therefore Guy Dampierre or I, not both,
That will be Edward's favourite.
I must
Be off, for I have much to do. Take care
Both of yourself and of the fruit within
Your womb: it's Holland's future that you hold.
Floris exit.
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beatrice
Oh bitter life
To be the wife
Of Duke or Count or King
A life of strife
Where war is rife
And love is but a sting.
My husband fights
My Father's knights
And I am caught between.
They've set their sights
Upon their rights.
I don't know what they mean.
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