ELEANOR.
Ay, as the bears love honey. Could you keep her
Indungeon'd from one whisper of the wind,
Dark even from a side glance of the moon,
And oublietted in the centre--No!
I follow out my hate and thy revenge.
FITZURSE.
You bad me take revenge another way--
To bring her to the dust.... Come with me, love,
And I will love thee.... Madam, let her live.
I have a far-off burrow where the King
Would miss her and for ever.
ELEANOR.
How sayst thou, sweetheart?
Wilt thou go with him? he will marry thee.
ROSAMUND.
Give me the poison; set me free of him!
[ELEANOR _offers the vial_.
No, no! I will not have it.
ELEANOR.
Then this other,
The wiser choice, because my sleeping-draught
May bloat thy beauty out of shape, and make
Thy body loathsome even to thy child;
While this but leaves thee with a broken heart,
A doll-face blanch'd and bloodless, over which
If pretty Geoffrey do not break his own,
It must be broken for him.
ROSAMUND.
O I see now
Your purpose is to fright me--a troubadour
You play with words.
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