'Eh, sire! Eh, Richard!' said the Queen-Mother, 'then he knows more than I.'
'I think not, Madame,' the King replied, 'since I have this moment informed you.'
The Queen swallowed this; then said, 'This wife of yours, Richard, who is not Duchess of Normandy, will not be Queen, I doubt?'
Richard's face grew haggard; for the moment he looked old. 'Such again is the fact, Madame.'
'But—' the Queen began. Richard looked at her, so she ended there.
Afterwards she talked with the Archbishop of Canterbury, with the Marshal, with Longchamp of Ely, and her son John. All these worthies were pulling different ways, each trying to get the rope to himself. With that rope John hoped to hang his brother yet. 'Dearest Madame,' he said, 'Richard cannot marry in Navarre even if he were willing. Once he has been betrothed, and has broken plight; once he saw his mistress betrothed, and broke her plight. Now he is wedded, or says that he is. Suppose that you get him to break this wedlock, will you give him another woman to deceive? There is no more faithless beast in the world than Richard.'
'Your words prove that there is one at least,' said the Queen-Mother with heat. 'You speak very ill, my son.'
Said John, 'And he does very ill, by the Bread!'
William Marshal interposed. 'I have seen much of the Countess of Anjou, Madame,' said this honest gentleman. 'Let me tell your Grace that she is a most exalted lady.' He would have said more had the Queen-Mother endured it, but she cried out upon him.
'Anjou! Who dares put her up there?'