Page:The Queens of England.djvu/18

 8 THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND. great affection had led him to repose unbounded confidence in her, but that she had abused both the one and the other in lavishing his money on his enemies. In defense, Matilda urged the strong affection of a mother for her first-born child, and added, "If Robert were in his grave, and could be recovered by my blood, I would pour it out to restore him. How can I enjoy my prosperity, and suffer my son to be pining in want? Far from my heart be such cruelty, nor should your power exact it." The king was touched by this effusion of maternal tenderness, and contented himself with punishing those who had had the hardihood to be the bearers of his wife's presents to his son. One of these he ordered to be treated with great rigor, and to have his eyes put out ; but, fortunately for the culprit, he eluded the sentence by flight. William's affection for his wife suffered no diminution ; and even Robert — who, in this unnatural combat, found himself on one occasion personally opposed to his father, whom, not recognizing at the time, he unhorsed, and even pierced with a lance — obtained his forgiveness on the expression of sincere contrition. Spite of his contrition, however, his father had not sufficient confidence in him to leave him in Normandy ; there- fore, not only to prevent the recurrence of further rebellion, but to remove him from the influence of his mother, he took him with himself into England, on pretense of employing him against the King of Scotland. While William regarded his son with a jealous eye, Robert complained that his services were not repaid by affection ; and at length, wounded by his father's coldness and suspicions, and envious of the estimation in which his younger brother was held, Robert fled from England, and, after traveling throughout Europe, fixed his residence at the French court. The tidings of these new dissensions between her beloved hus- band and favorite son caused the most poignant grief to the queen, whose heart was just then wrung by the death of her daughter Constance, Duchess of Bretagne, to whom she was tenderly attached. Again she endeavored to obtain a recon- ciliation, but this time without effect. Her distress of mind was also greatly increased by the answer which she received from a German hermit and soothsayer, to whom she had applied on the painful disunion of her husband and son. The answer, which was but a prediction of increasing sorrow and