Rosamund monologue (Act 4) — Becket and other plays

Small peace was mine in my noviciate, father. Thro' all closed doors a dreadful whisper crept That thou wouldst excommunicate the King. I could not eat, sleep, pray: I had with me The monk's disguise thou gavest me for my bower: I think our Abbess knew it and allow'd it. I fled, and found thy name a charm to get me Food, roof, and rest. I met a robber once, I told him I was bound to see the Archbishop; 'Pass on,' he said, and in thy name I pass'd From house to house. In one a son stone-blind Sat by his mother's hearth: he had gone too far Into the King's own woods; and the poor mother, Soon as she learnt I was a friend of thine, Cried out against the cruelty of the King. I said it was the King's courts, not the King; But she would not believe me, and she wish'd The Church were king: she had seen the Archbishop once, So mild, so kind. The people love thee, father.