Of late she whets him with more complicate craft:
She knows that all she likes the king dislikes,
And feigns a laughing, new-born zeal for Becket,
To sting the royal spleen.”
The short scene in which the barbed words of the queen draw a contrast between Becket’s triumph and the king’s humiliation is one of the many dramatic gems set in this drama. So graphic is the scene as she rises on the throne, cup in hand, and cries:
“A toast, my lords! The London merchant’s son:
Once England’s primate—henceforth King of England!”
that we scarcely need Leicester to tell us:
“Behold her, Lisieux!
That smile is baleful as a winter beam