The town was soon taken: but Eleanor's high spirit had not deserted her;
she shut herself up in the castle, and contrived to send intelligence
to her son. John was for once roused, and marched to Mirabeau with such
speed, that Arthur soon found himself surrounded in his turn. The Queen
was in the citadel, the prince in the town, besieging her, and himself
besieged by the King on the outside; but the town wall was strong, and
John could not easily injure his nephew, nor send succor to his mother.
He recollected a knight named Guillaume dos Roches, who had once been
attached to Arthur's service, but was now in his camp; and sending for
him, the wily King thus addressed him: "It is hard that persons who
should be friendly kindred should so disturb each other for want of
meeting and coming to an understanding. Here is Eleanor, my honored
mother, discourteously shut up in a tower in danger of being broken down
by engines of war, and sending forth nothing but cries and tears. Here
is Arthur, my fair nephew, who some day will be an honor to chivalry,
going straight forward, fancying nothing can hurt him, looking on
battles as feasts and sports. And here am I, John, his lord and King,
who could easily take from him at a blow all the rest of his life; I am
waiting, and endeavoring to spare him, though his men-at-arms may come
and catch me like a fox in the toils.
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