University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

—Rockingham. A Hall, divided by folded curtains. In the outer chamber, Anselm, Eadmer, Baldwin, and other Monks, Clerks, and Laymen. Within the presence-chamber, the King, Robert of Meulan, other Nobles, and Bishops.
Anselm.
Come forth, ye lords and bishops.—I will stand.
Edmer, my stole is falling; set it right.
Good friend, my thanks.

[Enter from within Bishop William of St. Calais, Bishop Walkelin, Bishop John de Villula, and other Bishops and Nobles.]
Walkelin.
A seat of easy slope.
We're like to be long sitting.

St. Calais.
Peace!—My lord
Of Meulan, to the right there's room.

Anselm.
Attend.
I fain would take from hands pontifical
The woollen scarf, the cross-marked pallium,
That sets its final honour to the rank
And office ye have forced me to assume.
My king denies me, tells me with harsh breath
My wish would snatch his crown, and that my faith
Plighted to him, and mine obedience
To Urban plighted, are as day and night
Opposed beyond all harmony. To sin
Against that faith and this obedience
Were heavy condemnation. But I hope
That you will bring them side by side as friends
And linkèd true associates. I pray
Your help and counsel in my strait; but chief,
My brother bishops, help me of your love,
For you have laid this strange perplexity
Upon my burthened soul in choosing me
To rule your Church.

St. Calais.
You are a man of God,
A lover at the feet of holiness,
Why ask our counsel? But if so you ask,
Throw yourself wholly on your monarch's will,
And we'll essay advice.

De Villula.
But if you plead
A call on God's behalf to thwart the king,
We cannot give you help.

Eadmer
[aside].
The spaniels cringe
As if the air were parting for the lash.
[Looking at Anselm.]
How reverend his face! his raisèd eyes
Are jewels of God's light.

Anselm.
And thus you speak,
Shepherds and princes, and no counsel give
Save as the will of one man shall allow;
Then to the Shepherd and the Prince of all
I turn for aid. I unto Cæsar give
The things of Cæsar; unto God the things
Of God. In what is godly and divine
I to God's Vicar owe obedience;
To what is earthly in the dignity
Of Cæsar I yield reverence, and bow
My vassal-will submissive.

St. Calais.
Hear! His speech
Is traitorous.

Walkelin.
His words are full of pride.

St. Calais.
His gross disloyalty is worthy death.
[To Anselm.]
We will not bear such message to the king.

Anselm.
Then will I go, for none will speak my words.

Eadmer.
Dear master, I will bear them to the king,
And faithfully uplift them to his ears.

Anselm.
No, Edmer. Of yon lion I've no dread,
Am fearless of his den beyond that bar;
[Pointing to the arras dividing the Hall from the presence-chamber.
And none but I shall enter.

[Passes into the presence-chamber. Curtains drawn back.
Rufus
[aside].
Here he comes!
Now, by the Face of Lucca, this is good.
To Anselm.]
Your answer, father?

Anselm.
I to Cæsar owe
The things of Cæsar; unto God the things
Of God. In what is holy and divine
I to God's Vicar owe obedience;
To what is earthly in the dignity
Of Cæsar I yield reverence, and bow
My vassal-will submissive.

Rufus.
Traitor! b—back!
Thou shalt re—re—return with other words.
[Exit Anselm.
Call in
My lords and bishops.

Meulan.
Hither, to the king!

[They go into the presence. The curtain falls.
Eadmer.
Here is a seat.

Anselm.
I'll lean against the wall.—
I am a stranger!

Eadmer.
Master, though I bear
An English name, and have an English face,
In thee I have a part.

Anselm.
Thou hast indeed.
My life is like a book before thine eyes;
But, Edmer, there are times when men and things
Are foreign to the brain and heart and soul,
And have no common language and exchange
Of sympathies; yet, Edmer, I am still
God's fellow-countryman, and by Him known,
And never left, avoided, or reviled:
So on the Universal Love I rise
Above the dreary severance from man.

Eadmer.
Baldwin, I hear the voices in debate,
The king's high stutter and the bishops' whine,
And Meulan's serpent-sliding oratory,
Ahithophel's own speech.

Baldwin.
How long they stay:
Yet the discussion waxes.

Eadmer
[pointing to Anselm].
Holy sleep
Is on him. It hath left some infant's brow
To nestle to his temples. Such a smile
As God would light the lamps of Heaven with
Is on his face.

Baldwin.
It is a miracle.
Good brother, see! no dream possesses him;
He is intent on some reality.

Eadmer.
The lids close in their treasuries; all here
Is left untenanted; he's turned the key
On sense, to pace the walks of Paradise
Awhile in recreation with his God.

Baldwin.
They come.

[Re-enter from the presence Bishops and Nobles.]
Eadmer.
I'll touch him gently. Meekest sleep,
Here come thy brawling enemies.

Anselm.
How strange,
Unlovely!—Edmer!

Eadmer.
They are coming back,
Forth from the presence.

Anselm.
There was golden light
Before my Judge invisible—the light
Was feathered close with wings.

Eadmer.
O master, hear;
King William sends them back.

St. Calais.
Your lord the king
Bids you all other words put by to yield
Your more confirmèd answer.

Anselm.
I attend.

St. Calais.
You work to snatch the glory of his realm
From off your monarch's brow. Who takes away
His dignities and customs, takes his crown.
Leave thou the useless service of thy Pope;
Embrace the fruitful friendship of thy king.
Be free, and wait the bidding of your lord
In all things; pray for pardon, and your foes,
The mockers, shall be put to shame as deep
As is your honour high.

Anselm.
Unto the head
And vicar of the Church I will be true.
If any man would prove that this my faith
To Urban breaks my oath to William sworn,
Let him stand forth and I will answer him.

[A Knight steps forward.]
Knight.
Our lord and father, by my humble lips
Your suppliant children pray you keep good cheer.
Let not your heart be troubled: blessed Job
O'ercame the devil on his ashy dung,
And thus revengèd Adam whom the tree
Did snakily beguile.

Anselm.
Thy words are balm.

Eadmer.
Oh joy, the voice of God, the people's voice,
Is lifted in our cause.

Rufus
[within].
Bishops and lords.
What answer?

[Curtain rises. St. Calais goes to the King.
St. Calais.
Oh, I know not what to speak!
I cannot say ...

Rufus.
How now, thou fool, art dumb?
Damnation! not a word?

St. Calais.
'Tis only force
Can put him down; if he is obstinate
Strip off the ring and staff and drive him forth.

Meulan.
What! Strip your primest vassal of his fief;
'Twould loose the pack of troubles from their case,
Nor leave one hope of remedy. Your realm
Would rage with high seditions. Never think—

Rufus.
Will nothing please you? While I live I'll have
No equal in my kingdom.

Meulan.
All our guiles,
Close-hanging counsels, like a spider's web,
His sleep-refreshèd lips with single touch
Have broken to poor shreds.

Rufus.
What can be done?
I'll tell ye, bishops. Go, and to his face
Declare that ye withdraw your fellowship
And loyalty. Ho, ho! He will be shamed,
And groan that ever he has left his lord
To follow after Urban. Hence!

St. Calais.
We go.

Eadmer
[to Anselm].
They come again with nodding brows and eyes
That shrink before thy countenance.

St. Calais.
Henceforth
We no more love nor serve you, and the king
Withdraws protection.

Anselm.
Ye are wrong. Your love
And service are my right, withdrawn from me
Because I yield my love and fealty
Where yours and mine are due. I will not deal
As ye have dealt.—To you and to the king
I'll show a father's love, though you and he
Reject me thus. Yet for God's service I
Will keep the name, the office, and the power
With which ye did endow me, though the press
Of outward things is iron on my brain.

St. Calais.
Proud man, we will report thy words.

Rufus
[within].
How now?

St. Calais.
He scorns our harsh rejection.

Rufus.
All he says
Is clean against my pleasure; not a soul
Shall be my man who chooses to be his.
Barons, withdraw from him all friendship, faith,
That he may see his gain in holding thus
Against my will—my will.

Meulan.
Our gracious lord,
We're not his men, we cannot take from him
What we have never given.

Rufus.
Curse them—ugh!

Meulan
[to St. Calais].
Judas!

Fitz-hamon
[to Walkelin].
Arch-Herod!
[To De Villula.]
Pilate!

St. Calais.
Would to God
The earth would open! Shame is in my limbs
That are base shivering traitors to my will.

Walkelin.
Fall, fall the roof and hide me.

Rufus.
Bishops, say!
Have ye abjured your whole obedience
To Anselm, or but such as he would claim
By Rome's authority?

St. Calais.
All, all, my lord.

Rufus.
Friend, to the place of honour.—Answer thou!

Walkelin.
I have abjured but such obedience
As he by Rome hath claimed.

Rufus.
Go, turn your face
To yonder corner, till your chastisement
Be ready for your back.

Walkelin.
My lord, my lord!

Rufus.
Hence to the corner you who think with him,
And those against him welcome to our side.

Walkelin
[aside].
With heavy coins we'll lighten punishment

[They talk together apart in a corner.
Rufus
[aside].
I know not how to loose him with the staff
Still glued between his fingers.

[Enter Walter of Albano.]
Meulan.
See who comes!
The Papal Legate, and a pallium
Is like a starry night upon his arm,
Black, blanched with crosses.

Rufus.
Hail! You come in time.
Place for the Bishop.

Albano.
Blessings on the king
Whose might is such that Urban by my mouth
Vows that no legate adverse to thy choice
Shall cross the English borders.

Rufus.
Ha! He doth.
[Aside.]
Then I'll acknowledge Urban, and this man
Will strip old Anselm of his ring and staff;
And then we'll pack him safely over seas,
And be sole tyrant of his trembling Church.
[Aloud.]
We for that grace acknowledge Urban Pope.
Clerks, write a proclamation to the land
And spread it through my empire's length and breadth.
[Aside to Albano.]
Gold, flaming bullion, burnished mighty mass
I'll yearly pay to Rome, if thou wilt take
His honour from that traitor.

Albano.
Yon old man,
The pious Anselm, with his gentle lids
Between the world and his own holy thoughts!—
His mother Church, I warrant, ne'er will lift
One grace from off his years.

Rufus.
By Lucca's Face,
I have gained nought through my acknowledgment.

Albano.
Peace with the Church, peace with her holy son;
[Pointing to Anselm.
For now ye are conjoined, and in your hearts
Is no contention.

Meulan.
Call him to your love.

Rufus.
Cursed be my folly,—execrable tongue
That hath betrayed its master! Fetch him up.
[Anselm approaches.
This holy legate with his honey speech
Hath made me Urban's. There is no offence
Between us. See, there hangs the pallium;
No weary journey, but a step between
Possessor and possession. Of the joy
You have in this escape from pilgrimage
You'll pay the sum our courtesy hath saved
To us who spare you?

Anselm.
Not a coin, my liege.

Rufus
[aside].
Miser! damned miser!—Give me then your word
That you'll obey all customs of the realm
And guard them from infringement, so once more
We'll call you ghostly father, and return
The honours of your title.

Anselm.
I will swear
According to the service of my God.

Rufus
[aside].
Beshrew you! How I hate the words.—Arise,
And sit beside me. From my royal hand
You shall receive the pallium.

Anselm.
Not so;
The staff I took, for it was yours to give;
The other gift is from his hand who sits
In Peter's chair.

Albano.
I'll lay it on the shrine
Of Christ in your cathedral, and from thence,
Dear, saintly primate, with your proper hand
You'll take it from Saint Peter.

People.
Yea!

Anselm.
I will.
My king, your friendship is the highest boon
God's earth could give.

Rufus.
'Tis yours.

Albano.
Behold how good
And joyful is the union of twain
In brotherly affection. Peace to all.

[Exeunt.