Ay--there lies the secret of her whereabouts, and the King gave it to
his Chancellor.
FlTZURSE.
To this son of a London merchant--how your Grace must hate him.
ELEANOR.
Hate him? as brave a Soldier as Henry and a goodlier man: but thou--
dost thou love this Chancellor, that thou hast sworn a voluntary
allegiance to him?
FlTZURSE.
Not for my love toward him, but because he had the love of the King.
How should a baron love a beggar on horseback, with the retinue of
three kings behind him, outroyalling royalty? Besides, he holp the
King to break down our castles, for the which I hate him.
ELEANOR.
For the which I honour him. Statesman not Churchman he. A great and
sound policy that: I could embrace him for it: you could not see the
King for the kinglings.
FlTZURSE.
Ay, but he speaks to a noble as tho' he were a churl, and to a churl
as if he were a noble.
ELEANOR.
Pride of the plebeian!
FlTZURSE.
And this plebeian like to be Archbishop!
ELEANOR.
True, and I have an inherited loathing of these black sheep of the
Papacy. Archbishop? I can see further into a man than our hot-headed
Henry, and if there ever come feud between Church and Crown, and I do
not then charm this secret out of our loyal Thomas, I am not Eleanor.
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