rge you in the name of God that
you hurt no one here but me."

The people from the town were now pouring into the cathedral; De
Morville was keeping them back with difficulty at the head of the
steps from the choir, and there was danger of a rescue. Fitzurse
seized him, meaning to drag him off as a prisoner. He had been calm so
far; his pride rose at the indignity of an arrest. "Touch me not,
thou abominable wretch!" he said, wrenching his cloak out of
Fitzurse's grasp. "Off, thou pander, thou!" Le Breton and Fitzurse
grasped him again, and tried to force him upon Tracy's back. He
grappled with Tracy and flung him to the ground, and then stood with
his back against the pillar, Edward Grim supporting him. Fitzurse,
stung by the foul epithet which Becket had thrown at him, swept his
sword over him and dashed off his cap. Tracy, rising from the
pavement, struck direct at his head. Grim raised his arm and caught
the blow. The arm fell broken, and the one friend found faithful sank
back disabled against the wall. The sword with its remaining force
wounded the archbishop above the forehead, and the blood trickled down
his face. Standing firmly, with his hands clasped, he bent his neck
for the death-stroke, saying in a low voice, "I am prepared to die for
Christ and for his Church." These were his last words. Tracy again
struck him. He fell forward upon his knees and hands. In that position
Le Breton dealt him a blow which severed the scalp from the head and
broke the sword against the stone, saying, "Take that for my Lord
William." De Broc or Mauclerc--the needless ferocity was attributed to
both of them--strode forward from the cloister door, set his foot on
the neck of the dead lion, and spread the brains upon the pavement
with his sword's point. "We may go," he said; "the traitor is dead,
and will trouble us no more."

Such was the murder of Becket, the echoes of which are still heard
across seven centuries of time, and which, be the final judgment upon
it what it may, has its place among the most enduring incidents of
English history. Was Becket a martyr, or was he justly executed as a
traitor to his sovereign? Even in that supreme moment of terror and
wonder, opinions were divided among his own monks. That very night
Grim heard one of them say, "He is no martyr, he is justly served."
Another said--scarcely feeling, perhaps, the meaning of the
words,--"He wished to be king and more than king. Let him be king, let
him b