ELEANOR.
I and mine--
And many a baron holds along with me--
Are not so much at feud with Holy Church
But we might take your side against the customs--
So that you grant me one slight favour.
BECKET.
What?
ELEANOR.
A sight of that same chart which Henry gave you
With the red line--'her bower.'
BECKET.
And to what end?
ELEANOR.
That Church must scorn herself whose fearful Priest
Sits winking at the license of a king,
Altho' we grant when kings are dangerous
The Church must play into the hands of kings;
Look! I would move this wanton from his sight
And take the Church's danger on myself.
BECKET.
For which she should be duly grateful.
ELEANOR.
True!
Tho' she that binds the bond, herself should see
That kings are faithful to their marriage vow.
BECKET.
Ay, Madam, and queens also.
ELEANOR.
And queens also!
What is your drift?
BECKET.
My drift is to the Castle,
Where I shall meet the Barons and my King.
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