OSGOD. I think that this is Thurkill.
ATHELRIC. More likely Godric.
OSGOD. I am sure this body Is Alfwig, the king's uncle.
ATHELRIC. So it is!
No, no--brave Gurth, one gash from brow to knee!
OSGOD. And here is Leofwin.
EDITH. And here is _He!_
ALDWYTH. Harold? Oh no--nay, if it were--my God, They have so maim'd and murder'd all his face There is no man can swear to him.
EDITH. But one woman!
Look you, we never mean to part again.
I have found him, I am happy.
Was there not someone ask'd me for forgiveness?
I yield it freely, being the true wife Of this dead King, who never bore revenge.
_Enter_ COUNT WILLIAM _and_ WILLIAM MALET.
WILLIAM. Who be these women? And what body is this?
EDITH. Harold, thy better!
WILLIAM. Ay, and what art thou?
EDITH. His wife!
MALET. Not true, my girl, here is the Queen!
[_Pointing out_ ALDWYTH.
WILLIAM (_to_ ALDWYTH).
Wast thou his Queen?
ALDWYTH. I was the Queen of Wales.
WILLIAM. Why then of England. Madam, fear us not.
(_To_ MALET.) Knowest thou this other?
MALET. When I visited England, Some held she was his wife in secret--some-- Well--some believed she was his paramour.
EDITH. Norman, thou liest! liars all of you, Your Saints and all! I am his wife! and she-- For look, our marriage ring!
[_She draws it off the finger of_ HAROLD.
I lost it somehow-- I lost it, playing with it when I was wild.
_That_ bred the doubt! but I am wiser now ...
I am too wise.... Will none among you all Bear me true witness--only for this once-- That I have found it here again? [_She puts it on_.
And thou, Thy wife am I for ever and evermore.
[_Falls on the body and dies_.
WILLIAM. Death!--and enough of death for this one day, The day of St. Calixtus, and the day, My day when I was born.
MALET. And this dead king's Who, king or not, hath kinglike fought and fallen, His birthday, too. It seems but yestereven I held it with him in his English halls, His day, with all his rooftree ringing 'Harold,'
Before he fell into the snare of Guy; When all men counted Harold would be king, And Harold was most happy.
WILLIAM. Thou art half English Take them away!
Malet, I vow to build a church to God Here on the hill of battle; let our high altar Stand where their standard fell ... where these two lie.
Take them away, I do not love to see them.
Pluck the dead woman off the dead man, Malet!
MALET. Faster than ivy. Must I hack her arms off?
How shall I part them?
WILLIAM. Leave them. Let them be!
Bury him and his paramour together.
He that was false in oath to me, it seems Was false to his own wife. We will not give him A Christian burial: yet he was a warrior, And wise, yea truthful, till that blighted vow Which God avenged to-day.
Wrap them together in a purple cloak And lay them both upon the waste sea-shore At Hastings, there to guard the land for which He did forswear himself--a warrior--ay, And but that Holy Peter fought for us, And that the false Northumbrian held aloof, And save for that chance arrow which the Saints Sharpen'd and sent against him--who can tell?-- Three horses had I slain beneath me: twice I thought that all was lost. Since I knew battle, And that was from my boyhood, never yet-- No, by the splendour of God--have I fought men Like Harold and his brethren, and his guard Of English. Every man about his king Fell where he stood. They loved him: and, pray God My Normans may but move as true with me To the door of death. Of one self-stock at first, Make them again one people--Norman, English; And English, Norman; we should have a hand To grasp the world with, and a foot to stamp it ...
Flat. Praise the Saints, It is over. No more blood!
I am king of England, so they thwart me not, And I will rule according to their laws.
(_To_ ALDWYTH.) Madam, we will entreat thee with all honour.
ALDWYTH. My punishment is more than I can bear.