I am readier to be slain than thou to slay.
Hugh, I know well that thou hast but half a heart
To bathe this sacred pavement with my blood.
God pardon thee and these, but God’s full curse
Shatter you all to pieces if ye harm
One of my flock!
Fitz Urse. Seize him and carry him!
Come with us—nay—thou art our prisoner—come!
(Fitz Urse lays hold of Archbishop’s pall.)
Becket. Down!