This arm

This shoulder

Can it forever remain sturdy?

At peace

Knowing what has been done

These lips can they remain silent

Knowing what they have bid

If only I were a man not of state

But of trade

 

The blacksmith

Is he not the honest son of an honest son?

His strong arms that work the forge

Faithful to fire and hammer

Striking blow after blow

Through spitting crackling heat

As doth fashion temper and burnish

The steel to make both helm and plate

That would protect every Knight and yeoman true

That would stand on every hill

Their banners a thousand strong

 

And yet here is this king that stands before you

His hands soaked in the blood of all those

Who would oppose the will of God

Whom he has justly vanquished with his sword

Biting deep into his enemies ranks

Tramping underfoot all serpents and vipers

Who would seek to come against the might

And justice of the king

Who should know no pity as ordained

As sure as the sceptre and crown

To which I am bestowed

 

But there still remains upon my trembling hands

The breath from this mouth

The blood of one whom I would have stand before me

Even now

One I would have speak words of wisdom and

Blessed counsel that I would crave

Instead of which he lies slaughtered cut down

As if by my own sword

Because of a rash and foolish tongue

That cried out to be rid of this priest

 

And now there is peace and quiet

In street and town

No dogs doth bark

Not a sound

Not even a whisper

No raised mailed fist

Or blood of war do I hear

Just here in this heart pumping in my chest

Lies sorrow and regret

Deep within this craven breast

That would undo all that has been done

Now forever punished

Where church and state

Seek to cancel each other’s debt

And I must find reconciliation

Between God and this unworthy man

 

Woulds’t that I would banish me from mine own sight

For this day I have died a thousand deaths

For this day I have lost a friend

 

Based on what Henry 2nd was purported to have said regarding Thomas Becket 1170