[Snatching away his looking-glass from the hand of De Vere, who is making a comic face at Chaucer, he smashes it upon the ground.]
DE VERE
Sweet Dick!
ARCHBISHOP
My liege,
The holy canopy is being raised.
[A medley of sweet bells is heard from within the Cathedral.
The pilgrims crowd about Chaucer.]
CHAUCER
Give me your hands, my friends. You hear the bells
Which call us to the holy martyr’s shrine.