_Enter_ HAROLD.
Harold the King!
HAROLD. Call me not King, but Harold.
EDITH. Nay, thou art King!
HAROLD. Thine, thine, or King or churl!
My girl, thou hast been weeping: turn not thou Thy face away, but rather let me be King of the moment to thee, and command That kiss my due when subject, which will make My kingship kinglier to me than to reign King of the world without it.
EDITH. Ask me not, Lest I should yield it, and the second curse Descend upon thine head, and thou be only King of the moment over England.
HAROLD. Edith, Tho' somewhat less a king to my true self Than ere they crown'd me one, for I have lost Somewhat of upright stature thro' mine oath, Yet thee I would not lose, and sell not thou Our living passion for a dead man's dream; Stigand believed he knew not what he spake.
Oh God! I cannot help it, but at times They seem to me too narrow, all the faiths Of this grown world of ours, whose baby eye Saw them sufficient. Fool and wise, I fear This curse, and scorn it. But a little light!-- And on it falls the shadow of the priest; Heaven yield us more! for better, Woden, all Our cancell'd warrior-gods, our grim Walhalla, Eternal war, than that the Saints at peace The Holiest of our Holiest one should be This William's fellow-tricksters;--better die Than credit this, for death is death, or else Lifts us beyond the lie. Kiss me--thou art not A holy sister yet, my girl, to fear There might be more than brother in my kiss, And more than sister in thine own.
EDITH. I dare not.
HAROLD. Scared by the church--'Love for a whole life long'
When was that sung?
EDITH. Here to the nightingales.
HAROLD. Their anthems of no church, how sweet they are!
Nor kingly priest, nor priestly king to cross Their billings ere they nest.
EDITH. They are but of spring, They fly the winter change--not so with us-- No wings to come and go.
HAROLD. But wing'd souls flying Beyond all change and in the eternal distance To settle on the Truth.
EDITH. They are not so true, They change their mates.
HAROLD. Do they? I did not know it.
EDITH. They say thou art to wed the Lady Aldwyth.
HAROLD. They say, they say.
EDITH. If this be politic, And well for thee and England--and for her-- Care not for me who love thee.
GURTH (_calling_). Harold, Harold!
HAROLD. The voice of Gurth! (_Enter_ GURTH.) Good even, my good brother!
GURTH. Good even, gentle Edith.
EDITH. Good even, Gurth.
GURTH. Ill news hath come! Our hapless brother, Tostig-- He, and the giant King of Norway, Harold Hardrada--Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, Orkney, Are landed North of Humber, and in a field So packt with carnage that the dykes and brooks Were bridged and damm'd with dead, have overthrown Morcar and Edwin.
HAROLD. Well then, we must fight.
How blows the wind?
GURTH. Against St. Valery And William.
HAROLD. Well then, we will to the North.
GURTH. Ay, but worse news: this William sent to Rome, Swearing thou swarest falsely by his Saints: The Pope and that Archdeacon Hildebrand His master, heard him, and have sent him back A holy gonfanon, and a blessed hair Of Peter, and all France, all Burgundy, Poitou, all Christendom is raised against thee; He hath cursed thee, and all those who fight for thee, And given thy realm of England to the bastard.
HAROLD. Ha! ha!
EDITH. Oh! laugh not!... Strange and ghastly in the gloom And shadowing of this double thunder-cloud That lours on England--laughter!
HAROLD. No, not strange!
This was old human laughter in old Rome Before a Pope was born, when that which reign'd Call'd itself God.--A kindly rendering Of 'Render unto Caesar.' ... The Good Shepherd!
Take this, and render that.
GURTH. They have taken York.
HAROLD. The Lord was God and came as man--the Pope Is man and comes as God.--York taken?
GURTH. Yea, Tostig hath taken York!
HAROLD. To York then. Edith, Hadst thou been braver, I had better braved All--but I love thee and thou me--and that Remains beyond all chances and all churches, And that thou knowest.
EDITH. Ay, but take back thy ring.
It burns my hand--a curse to thee and me.
I dare not wear it.
[_Proffers_ HAROLD _the ring, which he takes_.
HAROLD. But I dare. God with thee!
[_Exeunt_ HAROLD _and_ GURTH.
EDITH. The King hath cursed him, if he marry me; The Pope hath cursed him, marry me or no!
God help me! I know nothing--can but pray For Harold--pray, pray, pray--no help but prayer, A breath that fleets beyond this iron world, And touches Him that made it.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.--IN NORTHUMBRIA.
ARCHBISHOP ALDRED, MORCAR, EDWIN, _and_ FORCES. _Enter_ HAROLD.
_The standard of the golden Dragon of Wessex preceding him_.