_Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9051–9052 (as above, p. 65). See M. Meyer’s note, _ib._ p. 69. [1305] _Hist. de Guill. le Mar._, vv. 9040–9076 (as above, p. 65). [1306] “Asez en avez dit.” _Ib._ v. 9083 (as above). [1307] _Ib._ v. 9084 (p. 66). [1308] Gir. Cambr. as above. All through that day and the next he lay there, trembling from head to foot, sometimes appearing to see and hear nothing, and to be conscious of nothing but pain, murmuring broken words which no one could understand.[1309] At other times his delirium shewed itself in frenzied curses upon himself and his sons, which the attendant bishops vainly besought him to revoke.[1310] It was Geoffrey who at length managed to bring him to a somewhat calmer frame both of body and of mind. With his head on his son’s shoulder and his feet on the knees of a faithful knight, Henry at last seemed to have fallen asleep. When he opened his eyes again and saw Geoffrey patiently watching over him and fanning away the flies which buzzed around his head, he spoke in accents very different from any that he had used for some days past. “My dearest son! thou, indeed, hast always been a true son to me. So help me God, if I recover of this sickness, I will be to thee the best of fathers, and will set thee among the chiefest men of my realm. But if I may not live to reward thee, may God give thee thy reward for thy unchanging dutifulness to me!” “O father, I desire no reward but thy restoration to health and prosperity” was all that Geoffrey could utter, as the violence of his emotion so overcame his self-control that he was obliged to rush out of the room.[1311] The interval of calmness passed away, and the ravings of delirium were heard again; “Shame, shame upon a conquered king!” Henry kept muttering over and over again, till the third morning broke--the seventh day of the fever[1312]--and brought with it the lightning before death. Once more Geoffrey, stifling his own distress, came to his father’s side; once more he was rewarded by seeing Henry’s eyes open and gaze at him with evident recognition; once more the dying king recurred wistfully to his plans, not this time of vengeance upon his rebellious sons, but of advancement for the loyal one, faintly murmuring in Geoffrey’s ear how he had hoped to see him bishop of Winchester, or better still, archbishop of York;[1313] but he knew that for himself all was over. He took off a gold finger-ring, engraved with a leopard[1314]--the armorial device of the Angevin house--and handed it to Geoffrey, bidding him send it to the king of Castille, the husband of his daughter Eleanor; he also gave directions that another precious ring which lay among his treasures should be delivered to Geoffrey himself, and gave him his blessing.[1315] After this he was, by his own desire, carried into the chapel of the castle and laid before the altar; here he confessed his sins to the