HENRY IV. I say that--you are fools! You ought to have known how to create a fantasy for yourselves, not to act it for me, or anyone coming to see me; but naturally, simply, day by day, before nobody, feeling yourselves alive in the history of the eleventh century, here at the court of your emperor, Henry IV.! You Ordulph (_taking him by the arm_), alive in the castle of Goslar, waking up in the morning, getting out of bed, and entering straightway into the dream, clothing yourself in the dream that would be no more a dream, because you would have lived it, felt it all alive in you. You would have drunk it in with the air you breathed; yet knowing all the time that it was a dream, so you could better enjoy the privilege afforded you of having to do nothing else but live this dream, this far off and yet actual dream! And to think that at a distance of eight centuries from this remote age of ours, so coloured and so sepulchral, the men of the twentieth century are torturing themselves in ceaseless anxiety to know how their fates and fortunes will work out! Whereas you are already in history with me.... LANDOLPH. Yes, yes, very good! HENRY IV. ... Everything determined, everything settled! ORDULPH. Yes, yes! HENRY IV. And sad as is my lot, hideous as some of the events are, bitter the struggles and troublous the time--still all history! All history that cannot change, understand? All fixed forever! And you could have admired at your ease how every effect followed obediently its cause with perfect logic, how every event took place precisely and coherently in each minute particular! The pleasure, the pleasure of history, in fact, which is so great, was yours. LANDOLPH. Beautiful, beautiful! HENRY IV. Beautiful, but it's finished! Now that you know, I could not do it any more! (_Takes his lamp to go to bed_). Neither could you, if up to now you haven't understood the reason of it! I am sick of it now. (_Almost to himself with violent contained rage_): By God, I'll make her sorry she came here! Dressed herself up as a mother-in-law for me...! And he as an abbot...! And they bring a doctor with them to study me...! Who knows if they don't hope to cure me?... Clowns...! I'd like to smack one of them at least in the face: yes, that one--a famous swordsman, they say!... He'll kill me.... Well, we'll see, we'll see!... (_A knock at the door_). Who is it? THE VOICE OF JOHN. Deo Gratias! HAROLD (_very pleased at the chance for another joke_). Oh, it's John, it's old John, who comes every night to play the monk. ORDULPH (_rubbing his hands_). Yes, yes! Let's make him do it! HENRY IV. (_at once, severely_). Fool, why? Just to play a joke on a poor old man who does it for love of me?