Becket Page #8

Well played, Thomas.

(men murmuring)

Do you think you can carry this off

indefinitely, you fool?

We are all God's fools, My Lord.

Becket,

you are a liar!

You are a traitor!

Sheathe your sword, Morville,

before you impale your soul upon it!

(chuckles)

It's funny. It's too funny.

He's made mincemeat of them.

I'm surrounded by fools!

Becket is the only intelligent man

in my kingdom, and he's against me!

(laughing)

- Your Highness, it was impossible -

- Shut up. Get to your feet.

Did you hear him?

He appeals to the Pope.

If he gains the Pope's ear, Bishop,

we may find the entire kingdom

under Papal interdict.

I could be excommunicated myself.

But, Your Highness,

I do not think that -

I want no more thinking!

Becket must not cross the channel.

King Louis of France would be

the first to help him get to the Pope.

The archbishop must not leave

England. See to it.

From now on, Bishop,

it is total war.

Psst!

My French knight

takes your English bishop.

- Your Majesty's adroit.

- Pardon, sire.

Too snug. Why do all tailors want

to strangle one's armpits?

Your Majesty, the English ambassador's

extraordinary

insist that I convey their compliments.

They've already done that.

I'll see them when I'm ready.

That's my job.

They wish respectfully, sire,

to call your attention to the fact

that they have been waiting

for three days.

Let them wait. That's their job.

Ambassadors are paid to pace about

in anterooms,

especially in these times

of uneasy peace.

But they have an urgent communication

from Henry of England, sire.

The king of England and his

ambassadors can drown themselves

in what they are impertinent enough

to call their English Channel.

But, Your Majesty, the extradition

of a criminal is a courtesy due

from one crowned head to another.

My dear man, crowned heads are free

to play the little game of courtesy,

but nations owe one another none.

Oh.

All right, show them in,

show them in.

No, you may stay.

The ambassadors can share

our attention with our tailor.

It will demonstrate to the English

that exact social status of our court.

May I be permitted to present to Your

Majesty the two envoys extraordinary

from His Highness, Henry of England,

His Grace, the Bishop of London

and Robert de Beaumont,

Duke of Leicester.

Welcome, My Lords.

Fresh from England?

How is our good King Henry?

He was well, Your Majesty,

when we left him two weeks ago.

Two weeks to cross the channel?

Gentlemen.

We have been waiting upon Your Majesty

for three days.

- Why was I not informed? Girot.

- Your Majesty?

See what I have to contend with?

But perhaps I can make it up to you.

Would you permit me to furnish you

with some French garments

made by our craftsmen here?

- It will only take two weeks.

- We thank Your Majesty,

but we have urgent business in Rome.

Too bad.

Well, is there anything else

I can do for you?

I wish to deliver a message

from Henry, King of England

to his friend Louis,

King of the French.

- We are all ears.

- He wishes you to know -

Oh, just one moment.

- Yes, do continue.

- He wishes you to know

that Thomas Becket,

Archbishop of Canterbury,

has been found guilty of treason

and has forthwith fled his kingdom.

He therefore entreats you

not to allow this criminal

to reside within your territories,

nor to permit any of your vassals

to give counsel or support to him.

He solemnly declares that your enemies

would receive none from him,

nor from his subjects.

Henry, King of England,

Duke of Normandy.

Gentlemen, we have listened

most attentively

to your sovereign's gracious request,

and we shall shortly be drafting

a formal reply to it.

In the meantime, however, we can

only express our astonishment.

No news has reached us of the Archbishop

of Canterbury's presence in our domains.

But, sire, we have word

that he is in your domains.

He's taken refuge

in the Abbey of San Martin.

My Lord Bishop, we flatter ourselves

there is some order in our kingdom.

If he were there, we should

most certainly had been informed.

Bring in Thomas Becket.

Rise, Thomas Becket, and greet us

as the Primate of England.

The bow would've been enough.

And if I know my etiquette,

you were entitled to

a slight nod of the head from me.

That's done.

I might also be required to kiss the ring

if this visit were an official one,

but I am under the impression

that it isn't.

No, sire. I'm only an exile.

That, too, is an important title

in France.

I'm told you are a dangerous one.

- I'm afraid so, sire.

- How delightful.

Shall we discuss it in private?

We enjoy danger, Becket.

It keeps us alive.

- Do you value candor?

- I do, sire.

Then let me tell you that were you

a French official,

I might have kept you into

prison myself.

For the moment, however, we are pleased

to grant you our royal protection.

I humbly thank you, Your Majesty,

but I'm bound to tell you

that I cannot buy your favor

with any act hostile to my country.

You do us an injustice.

That was understood.

I believe that in the past, however,

you have been no stranger

to the art of political maneuver.

That is true, sire.

Well, speaking frankly,

you suit our purpose in our chess game.

England is splitting into

the Henry camp and the Becket camp,

and that suits us admittably.

We ask nothing further of you.

But... There is always a "but,"

as I'm sure you are aware.

I am aware.

I am responsible only

for France's interest, Becket.

Unfortunately, I cannot afford to

shoulder those of heaven as well.

For the moment, it suits me to

shelter any fugitive from Henry's court.

His recent impertinence

in claiming and capturing

some of our frontier towns

must be well known to you, Thomas,

since you more than distinguished yourself

in several of these engagements.

In a month or so, however, my dealings

with Henry may require a different tactic.

I might even be obliged

to ask you to leave France.

I hope to have a solution

to such a dilemma.

- Oh?

- I intend to go onto Rome

to put my case before the Holy Father,

if you will give me safe conduct.

You shall have it, of course.

You're the ideal guest.

But might I be permitted

to give you a word of advice?

- I would appreciate it.

- The Pope is a most holy man,

but like so many lofty personages,

he is surrounded by men

of a somewhat inferior stamp.

They need money. And King Henry

might be willing to provide it.

Keep your eyes open.

I will.

But permit me to show you my aviary.

That man Becket smacks

of too much sincerity.

A practice that is most disconcerting.

Fiddlesticks. Sincerity is a form

of strategy just like any other.

In a pinch I have been known

to use it myself.

The trouble is, if your opponent starts

being sincere at the same time you do,

then the game becomes

horribly confusing.

Shh.

I assure you, Your Holiness,

it's a simple matter.

No, no, no, Zambelli,

I don't agree.

It is impossible.

If we take the money from King Henry,

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