BECKET.
Where is the King?

ROGER OF YORK.
Gone hawking on the Nene,
His heart so gall'd with thine ingratitude,
He will not see thy face till thou hast sign'd
These ancient laws and customs of the realm.
Thy sending back the Great Seal madden'd him,
He all but pluck'd the bearer's eyes away.
Take heed, lest he destroy thee utterly.

BECKET.
Then shalt thou step into my place and sign.

ROGER OF YORK.
Didst thou not promise Henry to obey
These ancient laws and customs of the realm?

BECKET.
Saving the honour of my order--ay.
Customs, traditions,--clouds that come and go;
The customs of the Church are Peter's rock.

ROGER OF YORK.
Saving thine order! But King Henry sware
That, saving his King's kingship, he would grant thee
The crown itself. Saving thine order, Thomas,
Is black and white at once, and comes to nought.