King William, in his return from Scotland, fell dangerously sick at Gloucester, where, moved by the seasonable exhortations of his clergy, or rather by the fears of dying, he began to discover great marks of repentance, with many promises of amendment and retribution, particularly for his injuries to the Church. To give credit to which good resolutions, he immediately filled several vacant sees, giving that of Canterbury to Anselm, a foreigner of great fame for piety and learning. But as it is the disposition of men who derive their vices from their complexions, that their passions usually beat strong and weak with their pulses, so it fared with this prince, who upon recovery of his health soon forgot the vows he had made in his sickness, relapsing with greater violence into the same irregularities of injustice and oppression, whereof Anselm, the new archbishop, felt the first effects. This prelate, soon after his promotion, offered the King a sum of money by way of present; but took care it should be so small, that none might interpret it to be a consideration of his late preferment. The King rejected it with scorn; and as he used but little ceremony in such matters, insisted in plain terms for more. Anselm would not comply; and the King enraged, sought all occasions to make him uneasy; until at length the poor archbishop, tired out with perpetual usurpations (or at least what was then understood to be such) upon his jurisdiction, privileges, and possessions, desired the King licence for a journey to Rome; and upon a refusal, went without it. As soon as he was withdrawn, the King seized on all his revenues, converting them to his own use, and the archbishop continued an exile until the succeeding reign.