GEOFFREY. Don't know why. ELEANOR. Ay, but some one comes to see her now and then. Who is he? GEOFFREY. Can't tell. ELEANOR. What does she call him? GEOFFREY. My liege. ELEANOR. Pretty one, how camest thou? GEOFFREY. There was a bit of yellow silk here and there, and it looked pretty like a glowworm, and I thought if I followed it I should find the fairies. ELEANOR. I am the fairy, pretty one, a good fairy to thy mother. Take me to her. GEOFFREY. There are good fairies and bad fairies, and sometimes she cries, and can't sleep sound o' nights because of the bad fairies. ELEANOR. She shall cry no more; she shall sleep sound enough if thou wilt take me to her. I am her good fairy. GEOFFREY. But you don't look like a good fairy. Mother does. You are not pretty, like mother. ELEANOR. We can't all of us be as pretty as thou art--(_aside_) little bastard. Come, here is a golden chain I will give thee if thou wilt lead me to thy mother. GEOFFREY. No--no gold. Mother says gold spoils all. Love is the only gold. ELEANOR. I love thy mother, my pretty boy. Show me where thou camest out of the wood. GEOFFREY. By this tree; but I don't know if I can find the way back again. ELEANOR. Where's the warder? GEOFFREY. Very bad. Somebody struck him. ELEANOR. Ay? who was that? GEOFFREY. Can't tell. But I heard say he had had a stroke, or you'd have heard his horn before now. Come along, then; we shall see the silk here and there, and I want my supper. [_Exeunt_. SCENE II.--ROSAMUND'S _Bower_. ROSAMUND. The boy so late; pray God, he be not lost. I sent this Margery, and she comes not back; I sent another, and she comes not back. I go myself--so many alleys, crossings, Paths, avenues--nay, if I lost him, now The folds have fallen from the mystery, And left all naked, I were lost indeed. _Enter_ GEOFFREY _and_ ELEANOR. Geoffrey, the pain thou hast put me to! [_Seeing_ ELEANOR. Ha, you! How came you hither? ELEANOR. Your own child brought me hither! GEOFFREY. You said you couldn't trust Margery, and I watched her and followed her into the woods, and I lost her and went on and on till I found the light and the lady, and she says she can make you sleep o' nights. ROSAMUND. How dared you? Know you not this bower is secret, Of and belonging to the King of England, More sacred than his forests for the chase? Nay, nay, Heaven help you; get you hence in haste Lest worse befall you.