Thine enemy knows the secret of my bower.
HENRY.
And I could tear him asunder with wild horses
Before he would betray it. Nay--no fear!
More like is he to excommunicate me.
ROSAMUND.
And I would creep, crawl over knife-edge flint
Barefoot, a hundred leagues, to stay his hand
Before he flash'd the bolt.
HENRY.
And when he flash'd it
Shrink from me, like a daughter of the Church.
ROSAMUND.
Ay, but he will not.
HENRY.
Ay! but if he did?
ROSAMUND.
O then! O then! I almost fear to say
That my poor heretic heart would excommunicate
His excommunication, clinging to thee
Closer than ever.
HENRY (_raising_ ROSAMUND _and kissing her_).
My brave-hearted Rose!
Hath he ever been to see thee?
ROSAMUND
Here? not he.
And it is so lonely here--no confessor.
HENRY.
Thou shall confess all thy sweet sins to me.
ROSAMUND.
Besides, we came away in such a heat,
I brought not ev'n my crucifix.
HENRY.
Take this.
[_Giving her the Crucifix which_ ELEANOR _gave him_.
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