Becket And Other Plays Part 23

HENRY.

What did you ask her?

ROSAMUND.

Some daily something--nothing.

HENRY.

Secret, then?

ROSAMUND.

I do not love her. Must you go, my liege, So suddenly?

HENRY.

I came to England suddenly, And on a great occasion sure to wake As great a wrath in Becket--

ROSAMUND.

Always Becket!

He always comes between us.

HENRY.

--And to meet it I needs must leave as suddenly. It is raining, Put on your hood and see me to the bounds.

[_Exeunt_

MARGERY (_singing behind scene_).

Babble in bower Under the rose!

Bee mustn't buzz, Whoop--but he knows.

Kiss me, little one, n.o.body near!

Gra.s.shopper, gra.s.shopper, Whoop--you can hear.

Kiss in the bower, t.i.t on the tree!

Bird mustn't tell, Whoop--he can see.

_Enter_ MARGERY.

I ha' been but a week here and I ha' seen what I ha' seen, for to be sure it's no more than a week since our old Father Philip that has confessed our mother for twenty years, and she was hard put to it, and to speak truth, nigh at the end of our last crust, and that mouldy, and she cried out on him to put me forth in the world and to make me a woman of the world, and to win my own bread, whereupon he asked our mother if I could keep a quiet tongue i' my head, and not speak till I was spoke to, and I answered for myself that I never spoke more than was needed, and he told me he would advance me to the service of a great lady, and took me ever so far away, and gave me a great pat o'

the cheek for a pretty wench, and said it was a pity to blindfold such eyes as mine, and such to be sure they be, but he blinded 'em for all that, and so brought me no-hows as I may say, and the more shame to him after his promise, into a garden and not into the world, and bad me whatever I saw not to speak one word, an' it 'ud be well for me in the end, for there were great ones who would look after me, and to be sure I ha' seen great ones to-day--and then not to speak one word, for that's the rule o' the garden, tho' to be sure if I had been Eve i'

the garden I shouldn't ha' minded the apple, for what's an apple, you know, save to a child, and I'm no child, but more a woman o the world than my lady here, and I ha' seen what I ha' seen--tho' to be sure if I hadn't minded it we should all on us ha' had to go, bless the Saints, wi' bare backs, but the backs 'ud ha' countenanced one another, and belike it 'ud ha' been always summer, and anyhow I am as well-shaped as my lady here, and I ha' seen what I ha' seen, and what's the good of my talking to myself, for here comes my lady (_enter_ ROSAMUND), and, my lady, tho' I shouldn't speak one word, I wish you joy o' the King's brother.

ROSAMUND.

What is it you mean?

MARGERY.

I mean your goodman, your husband, my lady, for I saw your ladyship a-parting wi' him even now i' the coppice, when I was a-getting o'

bluebells for your ladyship's nose to smell on--and I ha' seen the King once at Oxford, and he's as like the King as fingernail to fingernail, and I thought at first it was the King, only you know the King's married, for King Louis--

ROSAMUND.

Married!

MARGERY.

Years and years, my lady, for her husband, King Louis--

ROSAMUND.

Hush!

MARGERY.

--And I thought if it were the King's brother he had a better bride than the King, for the people do say that his is bad beyond all reckoning, and--

ROSAMUND.

The people lie.

MARGERY.

Very like, my lady, but most on 'em know an honest woman and a lady when they see her, and besides they say, she makes songs, and that's against her, for I never knew an honest woman that could make songs, tho' to be sure our mother 'ill sing me old songs by the hour, but then, G.o.d help her, she had 'em from her mother, and her mother from her mother back and back for ever so long, but none on 'em ever made songs, and they were all honest.

ROSAMUND.

Go, you shall tell me of her some other time.

MARGERY.

There's none so much to tell on her, my lady, only she kept the seventh commandment better than some I know on, or I couldn't look your ladyship i' the face, and she brew'd the best ale in all Glo'ster, that is to say in her time when she had the 'Crown.'

ROSAMUND.

The crown! who?

MARGERY.

Mother.

ROSAMUND.

I mean her whom you call--fancy--my husband's brother's wife.

MARGERY.

Oh, Queen Eleanor. Yes, my lady; and tho' I be sworn not to speak a word, I can tell you all about her, if----

ROSAMUND.

No word now. I am faint and sleepy. Leave me.

Nay--go. What! will you anger me.

[_Exit_ MARGERY.

He charged me not to question any of those About me. Have I? no! she question'd _me_.

Did she not slander _him_? Should she stay here?

May she not tempt me, being at my side, To question _her_? Nay, can I send her hence Without his kingly leave! I am in the dark.

I have lived, poor bird, from cage to cage, and known Nothing but him--happy to know no more, So that he loved me--and he loves me--yes, And bound me by his love to secrecy Till his own time.

Eleanor, Eleanor, have I Not heard ill things of her in France? Oh, she's The Queen of France. I see it--some confusion, Some strange mistake. I did not hear aright, Myself confused with parting from the King.

MARGERY (_behind scene_).

Bee mustn't buzz, Whoop--but he knows.

ROSAMUND.