Nay, what uncomely faces, could he see you!
Foam at the mouth because King Thomas, lord Not only of your va.s.sals but amours, Thro" chastest honour of the Decalogue Hath used the full authority of his Church To put her into G.o.dstow nunnery.
HENRY.
To put her into G.o.dstow nunnery!
He dared not--liar! yet, yet I remember-- I do remember.
He bad me put her into a nunnery-- Into G.o.dstow, into h.e.l.lstow, Devilstow!
The Church! the Church!
G.o.d"s eyes! I would the Church were down in h.e.l.l!
[_Exit_.
ELEANOR.
Aha!
_Enter the four_ KNIGHTS.
FITZURSE.
What made the King cry out so furiously?
ELEANOR.
Our Becket, who will not absolve the Bishops.
I think ye four have cause to love this Becket.
FITZURSE.
I hate him for his insolence to all.
DE TRACY.
And I for all his insolence to thee.
DE BRITO.
I hate him for I hate him is my reason, And yet I hate him for a hypocrite.
DE MORVILLE.
I do not love him, for he did his best To break the barons, and now braves the King.
ELEANOR.
Strike, then, at once, the King would have him--See!
_Re-enter_ HENRY.
HENRY.
No man to love me, honour me, obey me!
Sluggards and fools!
The slave that eat my bread has kick"d his King!
The dog I cramm"d with dainties worried me!
The fellow that on a lame jade came to court, A ragged cloak for saddle--he, he, he, To shake my throne, to push into my chamber-- My bed, where ev"n the slave is private--he-- I"ll have her out again, he shall absolve The bishops--they but did my will--not you-- Sluggards and fools, why do you stand and stare?
You are no king"s men--you--you--you are Becket"s men.
Down with King Henry! up with the Archbishop!
Will no man free me from this pestilent priest? [_Exit_.
[_The_ KNIGHTS _draw their swords_.
ELEANOR.
_Are_ ye king"s men? I am king"s woman, I.
THE KNIGHTS.
King"s men! King"s men!
SCENE II.--_A Room in Canterbury Monastery_.
BECKET _and_ JOHN OF SALISBURY.
BECKET.
York said so?
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
Yes: a man may take good counsel Ev"n from his foe.
BECKET.
York will say anything.
What is he saying now? gone to the King And taken our anathema with him. York!
Can the King de-anathematise this York?
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
Thomas, I would thou hadst return"d to England, Like some wise prince of this world from his wars, With more of olive-branch and amnesty For foes at home--thou hast raised the world against thee.
BECKET.
Why, John, my kingdom is not of this world.
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
If it were more of this world it might be More of the next. A policy of wise pardon Wins here as well as there. To bless thine enemies--
BECKET.
Ay, mine, not Heaven"s.
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
And may there not be something Of this world"s leaven in thee too, when crying On Holy Church to thunder out her rights And thine own wrong so pitilessly. Ah, Thomas, The lightnings that we think are only Heaven"s Flash sometimes out of earth against the heavens.
The soldier, when he lets his whole self go Lost in the common good, the common wrong, Strikes truest ev"n for his own self. I crave Thy pardon--I have still thy leave to speak.
Thou hast waged G.o.d"s war against the King; and yet We are self-uncertain creatures, and we may, Yea, even when we know not, mix our spites And private hates with our defence of Heaven.
[_Enter_ EDWARD GRIM.
BECKET.
Thou art but yesterday from Cambridge, Grim; What say ye there of Becket?
GRIM.
_I_ believe him The bravest in our roll of Primates down From Austin--there are some--for there are men Of canker"d judgment everywhere--