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Twenty steps down. Stumble not in the darkness,
Lest they should seize thee.

Grim.

To the crypt? no-no,

To the chapel of St. Blaise beneath the roof!
John of Salisbury (pointing upward and downward).-
That way, or this! Save thyself either way.

Becket.

Oh, no, not either way, nor any way

Save by that way which leads thro' night to light
Not twenty steps, but one.

And fear not I should stumble in the darkness,
Not tho' it be their hour, the power of darkness,
But my hour too, the power of light in darkness!
I am not in the darkness but the light,

Seen by the Church in Heaven, the Church on
earth-

The power of life in death to make her free!

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[Pushes him away

Where is this treble traitor to the King?
De Tracy.-

Where is the Archbishop, Thomas Becket?

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Becket.

Here.

No traitor to the King, but Priest of God,

Primate of England. [Descending into the transept

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Except they make submission to the Church.
You had my answer to that cry before.
De Morville.-

Why, then

Becket.

you are a dead man; flee!

I will not.

I am readier to be slain, than thou to slay. Hugh, I know well thou hast but half a heart To bathe this sacred pavement with my blood. God pardon thee and these, but God's full curse Shatter you all to pieces if ye harm

One of my flock!

Fitzurse.

Was not the great gate shut? They are thronging in to vespers-half the town. We shall be overwhelm'd. Seize him and carry him!

Come with us-nay-thou art our prisoner-come! De Morville.

Ay, make him prisoner, do not harm the man.

Becket.

[Fitzurse lays hold of the Archbishop's pall,

Touch me not!

De Brito.

How the good priest gods himself!

Fitzurse.

I will not only touch, but drag thee hence. Becket.

Thou art my man, thou art my vassal. Away! [Flings him off till he reels, almost to falling.

De Tracy (lays hold of the pall).—

Come; as he said, thou art our prisoner.

Becket.

Down!

[Throws him headlong.

Fitzurse (advances with drawn sword).

I told thee that I should remember thee!

Becket.

Profligate pander!

Fitzurse.

Do you

hear that! strike! strike!

[Strikes off the Archbishop's mitre, and wounds him in the forehead.

Becket (covers his eyes with his hand).

I do commend my cause to God, the Virgin,
St. Denis of France and St. Alphege of England,
And all the tutelar Saints of Canterbury.

[Grim wraps his arms about the Archbishop. Spare this defense, dear brother.

[Tracy has arisen, and approaches, hesitatingly, with his sword raised.

Fitzurse.

Strike, I say.

Grim.

Strike him, Tracy!

O God, O noble knights, O sacrilege!

Strike our Archbishop in his own cathedral!

The Pope, the King will curse you the whole

world

Abhor you; ye will die the death of dogs!

Nay, nay, good Tracy.

[Lifts his arm.

Fitzurse.

Answer not, but strike.

De Tracy.

There is my answer then.

Grim.

[Sword falls on Grim's arm, and glances from it,

wounding Becket.

I can no more-fight out the good fight-die

Conqueror.

Mine arm is sever'd.

[Staggers and falls.

Becket (falling on his knees).—

At the right hand of Power

Power and great glory-for thy Church, O Lord-~ [Sinks prone

De Brito.

This last to rid thee of a world of brawls! (Kills him.)

The traitor's dead, and will arise no more.

Fitzurse.

Nay, have we still'd him? What! the great Archbishop!

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Away! Away!

The deed's done

[De Brito, De Tracy, Fitzurse, rush out, crying "King's men !" De Morville follows slowly.

Flashes of lightning and sounds of thunder.

* A tremendous thunderstorm actually broke over the Cathe dral as the murderers were leaving it.

SCENE FROM THE LADY OF LYONS.

CLAUDE MELNOTTE,

CHARACTERS. WIDOW MELNOTTE,

PAULINE.

it, to say She must

Widow So, I think that looks very neat. He sent me a line, so blotted that I can scarcely read he would be here almost immediately. have loved him well, indeed, to have forgotten his birth; for though he was introduced to her in disguise, he is too honorable not to have revealed to her the artifice; which her love only could forgive. Well, I do not wonder at it; for though my son is not a prince, he ought to be one, and that's almost as good. (Knock at the door in

F.) Ah! here they are.

Enter MELNOTTE and PAULINE.

Widow-Oh, my boy; the pride of my heart! welcome, welcome! I beg pardon, ma'am, but I do love him so!

Pauline-Good woman, I really-why, Prince, what is this? Does the old lady know you? Oh, I guess, you have done her some service. Another proof of your kind heart, is it not?

is

Mel-Of my kind heart, ay!

Pauline So you know the Prince?

Widow-Know him, madam? Ah, I begin to fear it you who know him not!

Pauline-Can we stay here, my lord? I think there's something very wild about her.

Mel-Madam, I-no, I cannot tell her; what a cow ard is a man who has lost his honor! Speak to her

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