FITZURSE.
Madam, I loved according to the main purpose and intent of nature.
ELEANOR.
I warrant thee! thou wouldst hug thy Cupid till his ribs cracked--
enough of this. Follow me this Rosamund day and night, whithersoever
she goes; track her, if thou canst, even into the King's lodging, that
I may (_clenches her fist_)--may at least have my cry against him and
her,--and thou in thy way shouldst be
jealous of the King, for thou in thy way didst once,
what shall I call it, affect her thine own self.
FITZURSE.
Ay, but the young colt winced and whinnied and
flung up her heels; and then the King came honeying
about her, and this Becket, her father's friend, like
enough staved us from her.
ELEANOR.
Us!
FITZURSE.
Yea, by the Blessed Virgin! There were more than
I buzzing round the blossom--De Tracy--even that
flint De Brito.
ELEANOR.
Carry her off among you; run in upon her and
devour her, one and all of you; make her as hateful
to herself and to the King, as she is to me.
FITZURSE.
I and all would be glad to wreak our spite on the
rose-faced minion of the King, and bring her to the
level of the dust, so that the King--
ELEANOR.
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