“Far be that from our lord,” rejoined Fitzstephen, his secretary; “let him rather follow the pattern of the ancient confessors and martyrs, and pray for his enemies and persecutors.” One of the King’s marshals touched Fitzstephen on the shoulder, telling him it was forbidden to speak to the Archbishop; upon which he glanced at his master, and pointed to the cross, to express what he was forbidden to say. The King sat in his own chamber, and the bishops and barons were sent in turn with messages from him to the Archbishop. Becket appealed to the Pope, and the bishops, on their side, appealed against the Archbishop; and then the Earls of Leicester and Cornwall were sent to pronounce sentence on him; but instead of allowing them to proceed, he declared that the King had no right to call him to account for what had happened before he was Archbishop; for it had been expressly declared, when he was appointed, that he was freed from all former claims. This was a point of view in which the Earls had not seen the case, and they said they must go back to the King. “One word more,” said Becket: “as the soul is more worthy than the body, so you are bound to obey God rather than the King. Can the son judge his father? I can receive no judgment from you or the King; the Pope alone, under God, is my judge. I place myself and my Church under his protection. I call the bishops, who have obeyed their King rather than God, to answer before his tribunal; and so, protected by the Holy Catholic Church and the power of the Apostolic See, I leave this court.” He rose, followed by his clerks. Cries of abuse followed him; Ranulf de Broc shot straws at him, and a relation of the King reproached him with sneaking away like a traitor. “If I were a knight,” said the Archbishop, “my sword should answer that foul speech.” It was only the King’s immediate followers that thus reviled him; the poor crowded after him in multitudes, so that he could hardly hold in his horse, carry the cross, which he still retained, and give his blessing to those who sought it. “See,” he said to his clerks, “what a glorious train escorts me home! These are the poor of whom Christ spake, partakers of my distress: open the door, and let us feast together!” On coming to the monastery, they first went to the chapel, where he prayed, and laid down the cross; then went to the refectory to take food. In talking over the events of the day, he bade his clerks beware of retorting on their enemies the abuse that was poured on them. “To rail,” he said “is the mark of an inferior; to bear it, of a superior. If we would teach them to control their tongues, let us show that we control our ears.”