Anyway, I went to see Canterbury Cathedral without really knowing what made it so special in the first place. I suppose that somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I knew that it was because Saint Thomas Becket was martyred and enshrined there (I did, after all, take an entire class devoted solely to The Canterbury Tales when I was in college), but I would never have remembered it on my own. (Thanks, audio guide!) Becket was assassinated by knights of the king after clashing with him over church powers versus royal powers. King Henry, who had never ordered or intended the assassination, was among the first to make pilgrimage to Canterbury as an act of penance.
To prevent others from losing their grasp on history, I have taken the liberty of composing a little play. Like Shakespeare (yes, I am comparing myself to the Bard. Judge away), I've taken historical facts and quotes and sort of played with them a bit. You'll be able to tell which quotes are legitimate historical quotes because they will be eloquent and archaic-sounding. You'll be able to tell my interpretations by their stilted dialogue and ham-fisted handling of character development. (Try and guess which is which!) Enjoy!
THE MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS BECKET, a play in five acts
ACT ONE
Curtain up on Thomas Becket and King Henry II of England in the midst of a complicated "best friends" handshake that involves shimmying, clapping, patty-cake, and pinky swears.
BOTH: ...best friends, best friends, never disagree,
HENRY: I'm always in accord with him,
TOM: He's of one mind with me!
BOTH: And if we live to be old men,
Dear Mary, praise and thank her,
We'll still be friends forevermore,
May God bless both us wankers!
They both laugh heartily.
HENRY: My dear friend, I do so love how we agree on everything.
TOM: I agree!
They grin cheekily.
HENRY: And I've been thinking about it, and I'd like to make you Archbishop of Canterbury!
TOM: Really? Are you sure?
HENRY: Well, I did forget your birthday this year, so I sort of owe you one.
TOM: But my birthday hasn't come yet.
There is an awkward pause during which both characters reflect on the historical inaccuracy of this faux pas.
HENRY: Well, I guess I would have forgotten it then. Heh, heh, sorry, buddy. But seriously, you wanna wear a funny hat and some robes and junk like that?
TOM: Um, YES! Then we can be like twinsies!
HENRY: Well, not exactly twinsies. Robes are all well and good but crowns are just a little better than funny hats, wouldn't you say?
TOM: Um, funny hats trump crowns, everyone knows that. My funny hat comes direct from GOD.
HENRY, icily: If by "God," you mean me, then okay. Because I'm pretty sure God never just bestowed a funny hat on you until I came along and handed it to you.
TOM, producing a funny hat seemingly from thin air and assuming an air of pious superiority: The Heavenly Father doth give in mysterious ways.
HENRY: The Heavenly Father doth give you a black eye in about two seconds.
TOM, increasingly annoyed: Well, the Heavenly Father doth told me that you're being sort of a buttmunch. And Pope Alexander III agrees with me.
HENRY: Dude, have you and the pope been hanging out without me?
TOM: Chyeah. You were so busy being all, "I caaaaan't come to the jousting match, guys, I'm running a country." Well, guess who's running all the countries in Europe and still has time to watch knights kill each other in the name of entertainment?
HENRY: Don't.
TOM: Pope--
HENRY: Don't say it!
TOM: Alexander.
HENRY: I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY IT!
TOM: Well, I guess you don't control everything anymore. You're in GOD's house now, sucka! How's that feel?!
HENRY: It feels like you should probably leave the country in exile for at least the next six years.
A thug with a nightstick appears behind Henry, looking menacing. Tom gulps.
TOM: Fine. But I'm taking the hat.
HENRY: Take your stupid hat! I'VE GOT A CROWN!!
Tom storms off stage. As soon as he's gone, Henry's shoulders slump sadly. Lights out.
ACT TWO
Lights up, six years later. Henry and five knights sit around a table, drinking pints and playing cards, accompanied by some royal medieval card-playing music.
HENRY: He wants to hang with the pope? FINE. I can hang with other people, too. (to Brown-Nosing Knight) Hey, uh, short guy. What's your name again?
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT: David, my lord.
HENRY: Right, right. Got any fives?
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT: Alas, no, my lord. But I can find you a five! Nothing would gratify me more than supplying your highness with all the fives in this deck!
HENRY, drawing a card from the pile and sounding bored: Yeah, thanks, Darren or whatever your name is, but that's not really how "Go Fish" works.
He heaves a heavy sigh, then collects himself and says with bravado:
HENRY (cont'd): I bet Thomas Becket and the pope never have awesome Guys' Nights like this, right?
REGULAR KNIGHT: That was six years ago, maybe you should get over it.
Other knights gasp. Henry rubs his temples.
HENRY: Look, new guy...what's your name?
REGULAR KNIGHT: Henry.
HENRY, taken aback: Really?
REGULAR KNIGHT: Yes, really. We've talked about this.
HENRY: Well, Henry, I know you're new to the group and all, but keep making remarks like that and you might find that "Go Fish" is not the game for you, if you catch my drift.
Other knights attempt to subtly slide their chairs away from the Regular Knight. One of them moves the deck out of Regular Knight's reach.
HENRY: Anyway, whose turn was it?
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Oh, it was yours, my liege.
The other knights all nod vigorously, except Regular Knight, who rolls his eyes.
HENRY: Well, thank you. (to Toady Knight) You there, have you got any fives?
TOADY KNIGHT: But of course, your highness.
He smiles superiorly at Brown-Nosing Knight, who sulks.
REGULAR KNIGHT: So, did you guys all hear that Thomas Becket is back in England?
Record scratch, music stops abruptly. Other knights are frozen in fear. Henry appears about to explode.
HENRY, barely holding it together: Go. Stand. In. The corner.
REGULAR KNIGHT: Seriously?!
HENRY: GO STAND IN THE CORNER, I SAY!!!
REGULAR KNIGHT: All right, all right, fine. I was just trying to make conversation.
He goes.
HENRY, to Sycophantic Knight: You. Play his hand.
Sycophantic Knight looks like Christmas just came early. He eagerly scoops up Regular Knight's hand.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: He doth had a five all along, my lord!
HENRY, exasperated: Seriously, guys, I don't want to have to explain the rules of this game again.
After a pause, he glances over to the corner and then bursts out:
HENRY: The nerve of some people, am I right?
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: Yes.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Always.
HENRY: First Tom and the pope, and now Horace over there--
REGULAR KNIGHT: It's Henry!
HENRY: Whatever.
REGULAR KNIGHT: We have the SAME NAME!
HENRY: Like I can remember everything? I'm the king, I got a lot of stuff going on!
Regular Knight sits down on the floor with a huff.
HENRY: Some days it's just more than I can take! Ugh, Thomas Becket! Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?!
Having thus uttered his line of great historical import, Henry storms out before he can hear his faithful knights' responses.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: I will!
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT: I'll do it!
TOADY KNIGHT: Ooh, ooh, pick me!
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: I'll rid the hell out of him!
REGULAR KNIGHT: Oh, this bodes well.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Shut up, new guy.
TOADY KNIGHT: Yeah, knights in the corner don't get a say.
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT: So...killing Thomas Becket. What say you guys to a week from today?
They all whip out planners and datebooks.
TOADY KNIGHT: Well, that's no good for me, I have a dentist appointment.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: That lasts all day? You couldn't block out half an hour for assassinating the Archbishop of Canterbury?
TOADY KNIGHT: Root canal.
Other knights all groan sympathetically.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Okay, so that's out. How about Wednesday?
They all check their books.
TOADY KNIGHT: Works for me.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: I'm free.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Same here.
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT: Ahhh...I guess I can do Wednesday if it works for everyone else, but I'd really prefer not to...
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Aw, come on, Dave, don't do this to us.
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT: it's just that I promised milady I'd help her pick out new tapestries for the manor house.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: Ooh, what have you narrowed it down to?
BROWN-NOSING KNIGHT, suddenly all enthusiasm: Well, we're thinking either a hunting scene with dogs and horses, or a hunting scene with dogs, horses, and a lion.
All the knights explode into a cacophony of "Lion! LION!" "Get the lion!" etc., except for Toady Knight.
TOADY KNIGHT, meekly: I think lions are a bit overrated in tapestries, myself.
The other knights drown him out in a resounding "boooooooo!"
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Okay. Wednesday's out. How about... (he rifles through the pages of his datebook) the twenty-ninth of December, in the year of our Lord 1170? That work for everyone?
Nods all around. A voice pipes up from the corner.
REGULAR KNIGHT: Are you guys seriously plotting to kill the king's best friend? Doesn't that seem sort of like a bad idea to you at all?
TOADY KNIGHT: Shut up, Second-Rate Henry, or we might decide to practice on you first!
The conspiring knights all cackle diabolically while Regular Knight rolls his eyes with a vim matched only by 30 Rock's Liz Lemon. Lights out.
ACT THREE
Canterbury Cathedral, December 29, 1170. All is quiet, when suddenly a door bursts open and Thomas Becket comes rushing in, slamming the door behind him. Almost immediately, there is banging from the other side of the door as Sycophantic Knight, Suck-Up Knight, Toady Knight, and Brown-Nosing Knight all try to break in.
TOM: No one's here!
He realizes his mistake and quickly tries to rectify it.
TOM, in a booming voice: Except for me, GOD, of course, because I'm always here. And I'm watching you! So you'd better leave Thomas Becket--who is, incidentally, NOT here--alone, or I'll be really, really mad.
From the other side of the door, the knights hold a muffled conference.
TOADY KNIGHT: I dunno, guys, God says He'll be really mad. Remember last year when He destroyed the harvest and we had to burn all those Jews and witches to make it up to Him?
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Don't be stupid, that's just Becket trying to trick us! (shouting) I've got you all figured out, Becket!
TOM: Oh, damn. (He glances apologetically at the crucifix on the wall.) I mean, um, fiddlesticks.
The knights burst in, swords raised.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: Ha ha, got you! Any last words, Becket?
TOM: For the name of Jesus and the protection of the church, I am ready to embrace death.
All pause, swords poised in midair.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Wow. That's pretty good, actually. Did you make that up yourself?
TOM: Yeah.
TOADY KNIGHT: Good one, dude. Totally gonna tweet that later.
TOM: Thanks, man.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Still gonna kill you, though.
TOM, sighing: Yeah, I figured.
Lights out as the sound of a great commotion ensues.
ACT FOUR
Stage is dark.
HENRY: You WHAT?!?!
Lights up. The four knights are kneeling before Henry, smiling proudly and carrying their still-bloody swords.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: We killed your best friend, my lord!
TOADY KNIGHT: Dave even broke his sword doing it, look!
Brown-Nosing Knight proudly brandishes his sword, the tip of which has broken off.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT: You're a madman, Dave.
Brown-Nosing Knight smiles modestly.
HENRY: So let me get this straight. You guys just decided to MURDER my BEST FRIEND?! What were you thinking?!
The knights, sensing that all is not well, go on the defensive.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT: Well, you practically begged us to.
HENRY: When?! When did I ever say, "Hey, fellas, please oh please could you MURDER my BEST FRIEND?!"
TOADY KNIGHT: When you said that whole thing about getting rid of turbulent priests.
HENRY: Guys. I was being dramatic. I'm a king, it's what I do best.
There is an awkward silence.
SYCOPHANTIC KNIGHT, checking his watch: Oh, hey, is that the time? Best be off, then.
SUCK-UP KNIGHT, standing up: Oh, yeah, right, we have...that...thing...now.
They beat a hasty retreat, the other two knights close on their heels, leaving Henry alone.
HENRY, looking skyward: Oh my friend, what have I done?!
ACT FIVE
Lights up on Canterbury Cathedral. Henry kneels alone in the middle of the stage.
HENRY: ...and I'm sorry I talked about you behind your back, and I'm sorry I accidentally told my henchmen to kill you, and I'm sorry I forgot your birthday, and I'm sorry about that time I told you your robes made you look like a porker.
PRIEST: Have you quite finished, your highness?
HENRY: Almost.
He proceeds to go through the motions of his handshake with Tom.
HENRY (cont'd): Okay. Ready.
PRIEST: You do realize what you have asked us to do?
HENRY: Yes.
PRIEST: It is an admirable penance to be beaten by eighty different clerics, my lord, but you know it won't bring your friend back.
HENRY, sarcastically: No kidding! (recovering himself) Sorry, Father.
PRIEST: He who is about to be beaten by priests should avoid angering them beforehand.
HENRY: Proverbs?
PRIEST: No, that was all me.
HENRY: Oh. Well, it's pretty good. True.
PRIEST: Thanks. I'm no Thomas Becket, but I try.
Henry shakes his head sadly as clerics brandishing sticks line up behind him.
HENRY: Forgive me, Tom!
Lights out.
THE END
Did you do it? Did you figure out which parts were real historical quotes?
Yep, you're right, it was the handshake. Well done.
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