Becket and other plays by Alfred Lord Tennyson
page 33 of 378 (08%)
page 33 of 378 (08%)
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[_Exit_.
BECKET. Do. These be those baron-brutes That havock'd all the land in Stephen's day. Rosamund de Clifford. _Re-enter_ ROSAMUND _and_ HERBERT. ROSAMUND. Here am I. BECKET. Why here? We gave thee to the charge of John of Salisbury. To pass thee to thy secret bower to-morrow. Wast thou not told to keep thyself from sight? ROSAMUND. Poor bird of passage! so I was; but, father, They say that you are wise in winged things, And know the ways of Nature. Bar the bird From following the fled summer--a chink--he's out, Gone! And there stole into the city a breath Full of the meadows, and it minded me Of the sweet woods of Clifford, and the walks Where I could move at pleasure, and I thought Lo! I must out or die. BECKET. |
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