BECKET (_entering, forced along by_ JOHN OF SALISBURY _and_ GRIM).
No, I tell you!
I cannot bear a hand upon my person,
Why do you force me thus against my will?
GRIM.
My lord, we force you from your enemies.
BECKET.
As you would force a king from being crown'd.
JOHN OF SALISBURY.
We must not force the crown of martyrdom.
[_Service stops_. MONKS _come down from the
stairs that lead to the choir_.
MONKS.
Here is the great Archbishop! He lives! he lives!
Die with him, and be glorified together.
BECKET.
Together?... get you back! go on with the office.
MONKS.
Come, then, with us to vespers.
BECKET.
How can I come
When you so block the entry? Back, I say!
Go on with the office. Shall not Heaven be served
Tho' earth's last earthquake clash'd the minster-bells,
And the great deeps were broken up again,
And hiss'd against the sun? [_Noise in the cloisters_.
MONKS.
The murderers, hark!
Let us hide! let us hide!
BECKET.
What do these people fear?
MONKS.
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