Part 31 (1/2)

What would ye have me do?

ROGER OF YORK.

Summon your barons; take their counsel: yet I know--could swear--as long as Becket breathes, Your Grace will never have one quiet hour.

HENRY.

What?... Ay ... but pray you do not work upon me.

I see your drift ... it may be so ... and yet You know me easily anger'd. Will you hence?

He shall absolve you ... you shall have redress.

I have a dizzying headache. Let me rest.

I'll call you by and by.

[_Exeunt_ ROGER OF YORK, FOLIOT, _and_ JOCELYN OF SALISBURY.

Would he were dead! I have lost all love for him.

If G.o.d would take him in some sudden way-- Would he were dead. [_Lies down_.

PAGE (_entering_).

My liege, the Queen of England.

HENRY.

G.o.d's eyes! [_Starting up_.

_Enter_ ELEANOR.

ELEANOR.

Of England? Say of Aquitaine.

I am no Queen of England. I had dream'd I was the bride of England, and a queen.

HENRY.

And,--while you dream'd you were the bride of England,-- Stirring her baby-king against me? ha!

ELEANOR.

The brideless Becket is thy king and mine: I will go live and die in Aquitaine.

HENRY.

Except I clap thee into prison here, Lest thou shouldst play the wanton there again.

Ha, you of Aquitaine! O you of Aquitaine!

You were but Aquitaine to Louis--no wife; You are only Aquitaine to me--no wife.

ELEANOR.

And why, my lord, should I be wife to one That only wedded me for Aquitaine?

Yet this no wife--her six and thirty sail Of Provence blew you to your English throne; And this no wife has born you four brave sons, And one of them at least is like to prove Bigger in our small world than thou art.

HENRY.

Ay-- Richard, if he _be_ mine--I hope him mine.

But thou art like enough to make him thine.

ELEANOR.

Becket is like enough to make all his.

HENRY.