pton. Fitzurse
rushed forward, and, stumbling against one of the monks on the lower
step, still not able to distinguish clearly in the darkness, exclaimed,
"Where is the Archbishop?" Instantly the answer came: "Reginald, here I
am, no traitor, but the archbishop and priest of God; what do you wish?"
and from the fourth step, which he had reached in his ascent, with a
slight motion of his head--noticed apparently as his peculiar manner in
moments of excitement--Becket descended to the transept. Attired, we
are told, in his white rochet, with a cloak and hood thrown over his
shoulders, he thus suddenly confronted his assailants. Fitzurse sprang
back two or three paces, and Becket passing by him took up his station
between the central pillar and the massive wall which still forms the
south-west corner of what was then the chapel of St. Benedict. Here they
gathered round him, with the cry, "Absolve the bishops whom you have
excommunicated." "I cannot do other than I have done," he replied, and
turning to Fitzurse, he added, "Reginald, you have received many favours
at my hands; why do you come into my church armed?" Fitzurse planted the
axe against his breast, and returned for answer, "You shall die--I will
tear out your heart." Another, perhaps in kindness, struck him between
the shoulders with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, "Fly; you are a
dead man." "I am ready to die," replied the primate, "for God and the
Church; but I warn you, I curse you in the name of God Almighty, if you
do not let my men escape."

The well-known horror which in that age was felt at an act of sacrilege,
together with the sight of the crowds who were rushing in from the town
through the nave, turned their efforts for the next few moments to
carrying him out of the church. Fitzurse threw down the axe, and tried
to drag him out by the collar of his long cloak, calling, "Come with
us--you are our prisoner." "I will not fly, you detestable fellow," was
Becket's reply, roused to his usual vehemence, and wrenching the cloak
out of Fitzurse's grasp. The three knights struggled violently to put
him on Tracy's shoulders. Becket set his back against the pillar, and
resisted with all his might, whilst Grim, vehemently remonstrating,
threw his arms around him to aid his efforts. In the scuffle, Becket
fastened upon Tracy, shook him by his coat of mail, and exerting his
great strength, flung him down on the pavement. It was hopeless to carry
on the attempt