_On one side of the stage the doors of an inner Council-chamber, half-open. At the bottom, the great doors of the Hall_. ROGER ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, FOLIOT BISHOP OF LONDON, HILARY OF CHICHESTER, BISHOP OF HEREFORD, RICHARD DE HASTINGS (_Grand Prior of Templars_), PHILIP DE ELEEMOSYNA (_the Pope's Almoner_), _and others_. DE BROC, FITZURSE, DE BRITO, DE MORVILLE, DE TRACY, _and other_ BARONS _assembled--a table before them_. JOHN OF OXFORD, _President of the Council_. _Enter_ BECKET _and_ HERBERT OF BOSHAM. BECKET. Where is the King? ROGER OF YORK. Gone hawking on the Nene, His heart so gall'd with thine ingratitude, He will not see thy face till thou hast sign'd These ancient laws and customs of the realm. Thy sending back the Great Seal madden'd him, He all but pluck'd the bearer's eyes away. Take heed, lest he destroy thee utterly. BECKET. Then shalt thou step into my place and sign. ROGER OF YORK. Didst thou not promise Henry to obey These ancient laws and customs of the realm? BECKET. Saving the honour of my order--ay. Customs, traditions,--clouds that come and go; The customs of the Church are Peter's rock. ROGER OF YORK. Saving thine order! But King Henry sware That, saving his King's kingship, he would grant thee The crown itself. Saving thine order, Thomas, Is black and white at once, and comes to nought. O bolster'd up with stubbornness and pride, Wilt thou destroy the Church in fighting for it, And bring us all to shame? BECKET. Roger of York, When I and thou were youths in Theobald's house, Twice did thy malice and thy calumnies Exile me from the face of Theobald. Now I am Canterbury and thou art York. ROGER OF YORK. And is not York the peer of Canterbury? Did not Great Gregory bid St. Austin here Found two archbishopricks, London and York? BECKET. What came of that? The first archbishop fled, And York lay barren for a hundred years. Why, by this rule, Foliot may claim the pall For London too. FOLIOT. And with good reason too, For London had a temple and a priest When Canterbury hardly bore a name. BECKET. The pagan temple of a pagan Rome! The heathen priesthood of a heathen creed! Thou goest beyond thyself in petulancy! Who made thee London? Who, but Canterbury? JOHN OF OXFORD. Peace, peace, my lords! these customs are no longer As Canterbury calls them, wandering clouds, But by the King's command are written down, And by the King's command I, John of Oxford, The President of this Council, read them. BECKET. Read! JOHN OF OXFORD (_reads_). 'All causes of advowsons and presentations, whether between laymen or clerics, shall be tried in the King's court.' BECKET. But that I cannot sign: for that would drag The cleric before the civil judgment-seat, And on a matter wholly spiritual.