Rosamund monologue (Act 3) — Becket and other plays

(_rising_) I am a Clifford, My son a Clifford and Plantagenet. I am to die then, tho' there stand beside thee One who might grapple with thy dagger, if he Had aught of man, or thou of woman; or I Would bow to such a baseness as would make me Most worthy of it: both of us will die, And I will fly with my sweet boy to heaven, And shriek to all the saints among the stars: 'Eleanor of Aquitaine, Eleanor of England! Murder'd by that adulteress Eleanor, Whose doings are a horror to the east, A hissing in the west!' Have we not heard Raymond of Poitou, thine own uncle--nay, Geoffrey Plantagenet, thine own husband's father-- Nay, ev'n the accursed heathen Saladdeen-- Strike! I challenge thee to meet me before God. Answer me there.