Leofric. Turn round: look how the fat nag canters, as to the tune of a sinner’s psalm, slow and hard-breathing. What reason or right can the people have to complain, while their bishop’s steed is so sleek and well caparisoned? Inclination to change, desire to abolish old usages. Up! up! for shame! They shall smart for it, idlers! Sir Bishop, I must blush for my young bride.
Godiva. My husband, my husband! will you pardon the city?
Leofric. Sir Bishop! I could think you would have seen her in this plight. Will I pardon? Yea, Godiva, by the holy rood, will I pardon the city, when thou ridest naked at noontide through the streets!
Godiva. O my dear, cruel Leofric, where is the heart you gave me? It was not so: can mine have hardened it?
Bishop. Earl, thou abashest thy spouse; she turneth pale, and weepeth. Lady Godiva, peace be with thee.
Godiva. Thanks, holy man! peace will be with me when peace is with your city. Did you hear my lord’s cruel word?
Bishop. I did, lady.
Godiva. Will you remember it, and pray against it?
Bishop. Wilt thou forget it, daughter?
Godiva. I am not offended.