Becket Page #6

aren't you, Brother John?

Get up.

Forgive me.

I didn't know.

I never realized.

Nor did I.

Get up.

You were very good at admonishing

an archbishop.

Do you think you could talk

to a king?

- Yes.

- Good.

Then you will memorize what I write.

Henry?

- Henry?

- What is it, Mother?

Why do you keep

gazing out of the window?

Becket won't come, you know.

He's much too busy

giving money to the poor.

And fitting sandals on beggars.

I never liked him as an adventurer,

but now that he puts on

the airs of a saint...

He certainly keeps himself in splendid

isolation since you made him archbishop.

He's in retreat.

It's part of the ritual.

Anyway, I don't need

to be reassured by his presence.

- He's my friend.

- More is the pity.

He has a strange way

of showing gratitude.

Your friend. You mean you went

to the whorehouses together.

It was he who lured you away

from the duties you owed to me.

Madam, in matters of debauchery,

it was I who lured him.

And I didn't need anyone to lure me

away from the duties I owe you.

I made you four children

very conscientiously.

Thank the Lord my duty is done.

I pray heaven

he stays away from you.

When you realize how he has used you,

you may appreciate the joys

of family life again.

(children playing)

The joys of family life

are limited, madam.

To be perfectly frank, you bore me!

You and your everlasting backbiting!

- Stop this.

- And this eternal tatting of yours.

In God's name, how long does it take

to make a tapestry?

- And it's mediocre beyond belief.

- One performs according to one's gifts.

Yes.

(children playing)

- Oh!

- Come on, victory!

(all shouting)

Shut up, the lot of you!

- Which one are you?

- Henry III.

Not yet, sir! Number two

is in the best of health!

A fine way

you bring up your children, madam.

Do you see yourself

as regent already?

No wonder I shun your bed.

It's not amusing to make love

with one's own widow.

Who's that?

A messenger... from Canterbury.

If you can spare the time

from bullying your children.

Messenger?

Is your master ill?

No, Your Highness.

I have a message from His Grace.

- A message?

- These are Becket's words.

"Whereas men at arms

of the Lord Gilbert,

under his orders and in his presence,

have seized and killed

a priest of the church,

I, Becket,

Archbishop of Canterbury,

Primate of England,

do now ask that Your Highness,

in accordance

with the law of the Realm,

apprehend Lord Gilbert and charge him

with the crime of murder."

Well, my son, now you have

heard from your friend.

Get out!

Get out, both of you!

Take your royal vermin with you!

Your Highness,

is there a reply for the archbishop?

- Your Grace.

- Yes?

The king is here.

- Are you certain?

- He came mounted and alone,

- but I'm sure it's he.

- (footsteps)

- My Prince.

- Why did you send a messenger?

Canterbury's only five hours

from London.

I've just ridden it in four.

I'm frozen stiff.

- Would you like some wine?

- No. Give me a reason.

- Why did you send a messenger?

- What answer did you give him?

- You've arrived here before he has.

- (chuckles)

I detect ill, devious Becket here.

What game are you playing, Thomas?

No game, My Prince.

Lord Gilbert murdered a priest.

I want the guilty punished.

The guilty of what? This priest

was a scandal to his parish.

That was never proved.

Gilbert should've handed the accused

to the church for process of law.

If guilty, we would have determined

his punishment.

I am the law!

Gilbert will recourse to me.

I gave him leave to arrest this priest.

I can't allow my clergy to be thrown into

prison and tried by the civil authorities.

Neither can I stand by

and let my priests be murdered.

You? You can't allow?

You can't stand by?

Are you taking yourself seriously

as archbishop?

I am the archbishop, My Prince.

By my grace!

Are you demented? You're

Chancellor of England. You're mine.

I'm also the archbishop,

and you have introduced me

to deeper obligations.

And if I won't charge Gilbert?

I can't force you,

but there is always a final judgment

beyond the king's justice.

Oh, that. Lord Gilbert

will face his fate

on the day of judgment,

as we all will.

I'm sure he'll have more to answer for

than killing a felonious priest.

Lord Gilbert will come to that judgment

already damned, sire.

I intend to excommunicate him.

You are demented.

Don't you understand that when you

attack my nobles, you attack me,

and when you attack me,

you attack England?

There is more to England

than the crown.

You must learn to face that

eventually, My Prince.

Damn you, don't lecture me!

You once told me you didn't know

what honor was, and I laughed at you.

But now to betray me,

to challenge my power.

I do not seek power, My Prince.

It is only that I finally discovered

a real honor to defend.

Whose honor?

Whose honor is greater than the king's?

The honor of God.

Forgive me.

Hmm. You give the lions of England

back to me,

like a little boy

who doesn't want to play anymore.

I would have gone to war

with all England's might behind me

and even against England's interest

to defend you, Thomas.

I would have given away my life

laughingly for you.

Only I loved you

and you didn't love me.

That's the difference.

Stay away.

But thank you for this last gift

as you desert me.

Now I shall learn to be alone.

(chanting in Latin)

Bishop.

What do you want, Philip?

Your Majesty.

Alone without an escort?

The king, nevertheless.

Bishop, I wish to confess.

The king has his own confessor.

It is an important court prerogative.

Don't be nervous, Bishop.

I'm not asking for absolution.

I have something far worse

than a sin on my conscience.

A mistake,

a crass mistake.

I ordered you to vote for Becket

in the election at Canterbury.

- I repent of it.

- I bowed beneath the royal hand.

Very reluctantly, I know. I'm told

this compromise with your conscience

made you seriously ill afterwards.

- God cured me.

- Very good of him.

You wear his uniform

and have his ear.

He's let me fall ill

without lifting a finger,

and I must cure myself.

- I did not know of this...

- I have the archbishop on my stomach,

a big, hard lump

I shall have to vomit back.

I think you are a man

one can talk to, Bishop.

I believe I misjudged you.

Friendship blinded me.

Is the king's friendship

for Thomas Becket dead, Your Highness?

Yes, Bishop, it died quite suddenly,

a sort of heart failure.

A curious phenomenon, Your Highness,

but quite frequent.

I hate Becket now.

I hate him

as much as you are jealous of him.

He's like an animal tearing my guts.

I can't bear it anymore.

I shall have to turn it loose on him.

But I am the king,

and my office stands in my way.

I need someone to help me.

My only interest is for the church.

Oh, come, Bishop.

We're alone, and the church is empty.

The church is never empty.

The little red lamp

burns in the chapel

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