I left him with peace on his face--that sweet other-world smile, which
will be reflected in the spiritual body among the angels. But he
longed much to see your Grace and the Chancellor ere he past, and his
last words were a commendation of Thomas Becket to your Grace as his
successor in the archbishoprick.

HENRY.
Ha, Becket! thou rememberest our talk!

BECKET.
My heart is full of tears--I have no answer.

HENRY.
Well, well, old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would
only breed the past again. Come to me to-morrow. Thou hast but to hold
out thy hand. Meanwhile the revenues are mine. A-hawking, a-hawking!
If I sit, I grow fat.
[_Leaps over the table, and exit_.

BECKET.
He did prefer me to the chancellorship,
Believing I should ever aid the Church--
But have I done it? He commends me now
From out his grave to this archbishoprick.

HERBERT.
A dead man's dying wish should be of weight.

BECKET.
_His_ should. Come with me. Let me learn at full