_Bishop._ Earl, thou abashest thy spouse; she turneth pale, and weepeth. Lady Godiva, peace be with thee. _Godiva._ Thanks, holy man! peace will be with me when peace is with your city. Did you hear my lord's cruel word? _Bishop._ I did, lady. _Godiva._ Will you remember it, and pray against it? _Bishop._ Wilt _thou_ forget it, daughter? _Godiva._ I am not offended. _Bishop._ Angel of peace and purity! _Godiva._ But treasure it up in your heart: deem it an incense, good only when it is consumed and spent, ascending with prayer and sacrifice. And, now, what was it? _Bishop._ Christ save us! that He will pardon the city when thou ridest naked through the streets at noon. _Godiva._ Did he swear an oath? _Bishop._ He sware by the holy rood. _Godiva._ My Redeemer, Thou hast heard it! save the city! _Leofric._ We are now upon the beginning of the pavement: these are the suburbs. Let us think of feasting: we may pray afterward; to-morrow we shall rest. _Godiva._ No judgments, then, to-morrow, Leofric? _Leofric._ None: we will carouse. _Godiva._ The saints of heaven have given me strength and confidence; my prayers are heard; the heart of my beloved is now softened. _Leofric._ Ay, ay. _Godiva._ Say, dearest Leofric, is there indeed no other hope, no other mediation? _Leofric._ I have sworn. Beside, thou hast made me redden and turn my face away from thee, and all the knaves have seen it: this adds to the city's crime. _Godiva._ I have blushed, too, Leofric, and was not rash nor obdurate. _Leofric._ But thou, my sweetest, art given to blushing: there is no conquering it in thee. I wish thou hadst not alighted so hastily and roughly: it hath shaken down a sheaf of thy hair. Take heed thou sit not upon it, lest it anguish thee. Well done! it mingleth now sweetly with the cloth of gold upon the saddle, running here and there, as if it had life and faculties and business, and were working thereupon some newer and cunninger device. O my beauteous Eve! there is a Paradise about thee! the world is refreshed as thou movest and breathest on it. I cannot see or think of evil where thou art. I could throw my arms even here about thee. No signs for me! no shaking of sunbeams! no reproof or frown of wonderment.--I _will_ say it--now, then, for worse--I could close with my kisses thy half-open lips, ay, and those lovely and loving eyes, before the people. _Godiva._ To-morrow you shall kiss me, and they shall bless you for it. I shall be very pale, for to-night I must fast and pray. _Leofric._ I do not hear thee; the voices of the folk are so loud under this archway.