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BECKET

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The first proofs of the play were printed in 1879, but it was not published until December, 1884. See prefatory note to Queen Mary,' and the Memoir,' vol. ii. pp. 193–199. In 1879 Irving refused the play, but in 1891 he asked leave to produce it, and it proved very successful on the stage, both in England and in America.

TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR,

THE RIGHT HONORABLE EARL OF SELBORNE.

MY DEAR SELBORNE, To you, the honored Chancellor of our own day, I dedicate this dramatic memorial of your great predecessor; — which, altho' not intended in its present form to meet the exigencies of our modern theatre, has nevertheless - for so you have assured me won your approbation. Ever yours, TENNYSON.

DRAMATIS PERSONE

HENRY II. (son of the Earl of Anjou).

THOMAS BECKET, Chancellor of England, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury.
GILBERT FOLIOT, Bishop of London.

ROGER, Archbishop of York.

Bishop of Hereford.

HILARY, Bishop of Chichester.

JOCELYN, Bishop of Salisbury.

JOHN OF SALISBURY

HERBERT OF BOSHAM friends of Becket.

WALTER MAP, reputed author of 'Golias,' Latin poems against the priesthood.
KING LOUIS OF FRANCE.

GEOFFREY, son of Rosamund and Henry.

GRIM, a monk of Cambridge.
SIR REGINALD FITZURSE
SIR RICHARD DE BRITO

SIR WILLIAM DE TRACY
SIR HUGH DE MORVILLE

the four knights of the king's household, enemies of Becket.

DE BROC OF SALTWOOD CASTLE.

LORD LEICESTER.

PHILIP DE ELEEMOSYNA.

Two KNIGHT TEMPLARS.

JOHN OF OXFORD (called the Swearer).

ELEANOR OF AQUITAINE, Queen of England (divorced from Louis of France).
ROSAMUND DE CLIFFORD.

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Church,

OF THE HALL. ROOFS OF A CITY They but degraded him. I hope they

SEEN THRO' WINDOWS

HENRY and BECKET at chess.

Henry. So then our good Archbishop
Theobald

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whipt him.

I would have hang'd him.

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Henry. Come, come, thou art but deacon

not yet bishop,

No, nor archbishop, nor my confessor yet. I would to God thou wert, for I should find

An easy father confessor in thee.

Becket. Saint Denis, that thou shouldst not. I should beat

Thy kingship as my bishop hath beaten it.

Henry. Hell take thy bishop then, and my kingship too!

Come, come, I love thee and I know thee,
I know thee,

A doter on white pheasant-flesh at feasts, 50
A sauce-deviser for thy days of fish,
A dish-designer, and most amorous
Of good old red sound liberal Gascon wine.
Will not thy body rebel, man, if thou flat-
ter it ?

Becket. That palate is insane which cannot tell

A good dish from a bad, new wine from

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A woman as a woman should be loved

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And fulminations from the side of Rome,
An interdict on England - I will have
My young son Henry crown'd the King of
England,

That so the Papal bolt may pass by England,

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As seeming his, not mine, and fall abroad. I'll have it done and now.

Becket. Surely too young Even for this shadow of a crown; and tho' I love him heartily, I can spy already A strain of hard and headstrong in him. Say,

The Queen should play his kingship against thine!

Henry. I will not think so, Thomas.
Who shall crown him?

Canterbury is dying.
Becket.

The next Canterbury. Henry. And who shall he be, my friend Thomas? Who?

129

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