Becket and other playsTennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron
General
Becket and other plays
Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron
Drama; Thomas, à Becket, Saint, 1118?-1170 -- Drama
BECKET.
Ye think to scare me from my loyalty
To God and to the Holy Father. No!
Tho' all the swords in England flash'd above me
Ready to fall at Henry's word or yours--
Tho' all the loud-lung'd trumpets upon earth
Blared from the heights of all the thrones of her kings,
Blowing the world against me, I would stand
Clothed with the full authority of Rome,
Mail'd in the perfect panoply of faith,
First of the foremost of their files, who die
For God, to people heaven in the great day
When God makes up his jewels. Once I fled--
Never again, and you--I marvel at you--
Ye know what is between us. Ye have sworn
Yourselves my men when I was Chancellor--
My vassals--and yet threaten your Archbishop
In his own house.
KNIGHTS.
Nothing can be between us
That goes against our fealty to the King.
FITZURSE.
And in his name we charge you that ye keep
This traitor from escaping.
BECKET.
Rest you easy,
For I am easy to keep. I shall not fly.
Here, here, here will you find me.
DE MORVILLE.
Know you not
You have spoken to the peril of your life?
BECKET.
As I shall speak again.
FITZURSE, DE TRACY, _and_ DE BRITO.
To arms!
[_They rush out,_ DE MORVILLE _lingers_.
BECKET.
De Morville,
I had thought so well of you; and even now
You seem the least assassin of the four.
Oh, do not damn yourself for company!
Is it too late for me to save your soul?
I pray you for one moment stay and speak.
DE MORVILLE.
Becket, it _is_ too late. [_Exit_.
BECKET.
Is it too late?
Too late on earth may be too soon in hell.
KNIGHTS (_in the distance_).
Close the great gate--ho, there--upon the town.
BECKET'S RETAINERS.
Shut the hall-doors. [_A pause_.
BECKET.
You hear them, brother John;
Why do you stand so silent, brother John?
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
For I was musing on an ancient saw,
_Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re,_
Is strength less strong when hand-in-hand with grace?
_Gratior in pulchro corpore virtus_. Thomas,
Why should you heat yourself for such as these?
BECKET.
Methought I answer'd moderately enough.
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
As one that blows the coal to cool the fire.
My lord, I marvel why you never lean
On any man's advising but your own.
BECKET.
Is it so, Dan John? well, what should I have done?
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
You should have taken counsel with your friends
Before these bandits brake into your presence.
They seek--you make--occasion for your death.
BECKET.
My counsel is already taken, John.
I am prepared to die.
JOHN OF SALISBURY
We are sinners all,
The best of all not all-prepared to die.
BECKET.
God's will be done!
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
Ay, well. God's will be done!
GRIM (_re-entering_).
My lord, the knights are arming in the garden
Beneath the sycamore.
BECKET.
Good! let them arm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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