No More Learning

EDWIN. So the good king would deign to lend an ear
Not overscornful, we might chance--perchance--
To guess their meaning.

MORCAR. Thine own meaning, Harold,
To make all England one, to close all feuds,
Mixing our bloods, that thence a king may rise
Half-Godwin and half-Alfgar, one to rule
All England beyond question, beyond quarrel.

HAROLD. Who sow'd this fancy here among the people?

MORCAR. Who knows what sows itself among the people?
A goodly flower at times.

HAROLD. The Queen of Wales?
Why, Morcar, it is all but duty in her
To hate me; I have heard she hates me.

MORCAR. No!
For I can swear to that, but cannot swear
That these will follow thee against the Norsemen,
If thou deny them this.

HAROLD. Morcar and Edwin,
When will you cease to plot against my house?

EDWIN. The king can scarcely dream that we, who know
His prowess in the mountains of the West,
Should care to plot against him in the North.

MORCAR. Who dares arraign us, king, of such a plot?

HAROLD. Ye heard one witness even now.

MORCAR. The craven!
There is a faction risen again for Tostig,
Since Tostig came with Norway--fright not love.

HAROLD. Morcar and Edwin, will ye, if I yield,
Follow against the Norseman?

MORCAR. Surely, surely!

HAROLD. Morcar and Edwin, will ye upon oath,
Help us against the Norman?

MORCAR. With good will;
Yea, take the Sacrament upon it, king.

HAROLD. Where is thy sister?

MORCAR. Somewhere hard at hand.
Call and she comes.

[_One goes out, then enter_ ALDWYTH.

HAROLD. I doubt not but thou knowest
Why thou art summon'd.

ALDWYTH. Why? --I stay with these,
Lest thy fierce Tostig spy me out alone,
And flay me all alive.

HAROLD. Canst thou love one
Who did discrown thine husband, unqueen thee?
Didst thou not love thine husband?

ALDWYTH. Oh! my lord,
The nimble, wild, red, wiry, savage king--
That was, my lord, a match of policy.

HAROLD. Was it?
I knew him brave: he loved his land: he fain
Had made her great: his finger on her harp
(I heard him more than once) had in it Wales,
Her floods, her woods, her hills: had I been his,
I had been all Welsh.

ALDWYTH. Oh, ay--all Welsh--and yet
I saw thee drive him up his hills--and women
Cling to the conquer'd, if they love, the more;
If not, they cannot hate the conqueror.
We never--oh! good Morcar, speak for us,
His conqueror conquer'd Aldwyth.

HAROLD. Goodly news!

MORCAR. Doubt it not thou! Since Griffith's
head was sent
To Edward, she hath said it.

HAROLD. I had rather
She would have loved her husband. Aldwyth, Aldwyth,
Canst thou love me, thou knowing where I love?

ALDWYTH. I can, my lord, for mine own sake, for thine,
For England, for thy poor white dove, who flutters
Between thee and the porch, but then would find
Her nest within the cloister, and be still.

HAROLD. Canst thou love one, who cannot love again?

ALDWYTH. Full hope have I that love will answer love.

HAROLD. Then in the name of the great God, so be it!
Come, Aldred, join our hands before the hosts,
That all may see.

[ALDRED _joins the hands of_ HAROLD _and_ ALDWYTH
_and blesses them_.

VOICES. Harold, Harold and Aldwyth!

HAROLD. Set forth our golden Dragon, let him flap
The wings that beat down Wales!
Advance our Standard of the Warrior,
Dark among gems and gold; and thou, brave banner,
Blaze like a night of fatal stars on those
Who read their doom and die.
Where lie the Norsemen? on the Derwent? ay
At Stamford-bridge.
Morcar, collect thy men; Edwin, my friend--
Thou lingerest. --Gurth,--
Last night King Edward came to me in dreams--
The rosy face and long down-silvering beard--
He told me I should conquer:--
I am no woman to put faith in dreams.
(To his army. )
Last night King Edward came to me in dreams,
And told me we should conquer.

VOICES. Forward! Forward!
Harold and Holy Cross!

ALDWYTH. The day is won!



SCENE II. --A PLAIN. BEFORE THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD-BRIDGE.

HAROLD _and his_ GUARD.


HAROLD. Who is it comes this way? Tostig?
(_Enter_ TOSTIG _with a small force_. ) O brother,
What art thou doing here?

TOSTIG. I am foraging
For Norway's army.

HAROLD. I could take and slay thee.
Thou art in arms against us.

TOSTIG. Take and slay me,
For Edward loved me.

HAROLD. Edward bad me spare thee.

TOSTIG. I hate King Edward, for he join'd with thee
To drive me outlaw'd. Take and slay me, I say,
Or I shall count thee fool.

HAROLD. Take thee, or free thee,
Free thee or slay thee, Norway will have war;
No man would strike with Tostig, save for Norway.
Thou art nothing in thine England, save for Norway,
Who loves not thee but war. What dost thou here,
Trampling thy mother's bosom into blood?

TOSTIG. She hath wean'd me from it with such bitterness.
I come for mine own Earldom, my Northumbria;
Thou hast given it to the enemy of our house.

HAROLD. Northumbria threw thee off, she will not have thee,
Thou hast misused her: and, O crowning crime!
Hast murder'd thine own guest, the son of Orm,
Gamel, at thine own hearth.

TOSTIG. The slow, fat fool!
He drawl'd and prated so, I smote him suddenly,
I knew not what I did. He held with Morcar. --
I hate myself for all things that I do.

HAROLD. And Morcar holds with us. Come back with him.
Know what thou dost; and we may find for thee,
So thou be chasten'd by thy banishment,
Some easier earldom.

TOSTIG. What for Norway then?
He looks for land among us, he and his.

HAROLD. Seven feet of English land, or something more,
Seeing he is a giant.

TOSTIG. That is noble!
That sounds of Godwin.

HAROLD. Come thou back, and be
Once more a son of Godwin.

TOSTIG (_turns away_). O brother, brother,
O Harold--

HAROLD (_laying his hand on_ TOSTIG'S _shoulder_).
Nay then, come thou back to us!

TOSTIG (_after a pause turning to him_). Never
shall any man say that I, that Tostig
Conjured the mightier Harold from his North
To do the battle for me here in England,
Then left him for the meaner! thee! --
Thou hast no passion for the House of Godwin--
Thou hast but cared to make thyself a king--
Thou hast sold me for a cry. --
Thou gavest thy voice against me in the Council--
I hate thee, and despise thee, and defy thee.
Farewell for ever!
[_Exit_.

HAROLD. On to Stamford-bridge!



SCENE III.


AFTER THE BATTLE OF STAMFORD-BRIDGE. BANQUET.

HAROLD _and_ ALDWYTH. GURTH, LEOFWIN, MORCAR, EDWIN,
_and other_ EARLS _and_ THANES.


VOICES. Hail! Harold! Aldwyth! hail, bridegroom and bride!

ALDWYTH (_talking with_ HAROLD).
Answer them thou!
Is this our marriage-banquet? Would the wines
Of wedding had been dash'd into the cups
Of victory, and our marriage and thy glory
Been drunk together! these poor hands but sew,
Spin, broider--would that they were man's to have held
The battle-axe by thee!

HAROLD. There _was_ a moment
When being forced aloof from all my guard,
And striking at Hardrada and his madmen
I had wish'd for any weapon.

ALDWYTH. Why art thou sad?

HAROLD. I have lost the boy who play'd at ball with me,
With whom I fought another fight than this
Of Stamford-bridge.

ALDWYTH. Ay! ay! thy victories
Over our own poor Wales, when at thy side
He conquer'd with thee.

HAROLD. No--the childish fist
That cannot strike again.

ALDWYTH. Thou art too kindly.
Why didst thou let so many Norsemen hence?
Thy fierce forekings had clench'd their pirate hides
To the bleak church doors, like kites upon a barn.

HAROLD. Is there so great a need to tell thee why?

ALDWYTH. Yea, am I not thy wife?

VOICES. Hail, Harold, Aldwyth!
Bridegroom and bride!

ALDWYTH. Answer them! [_To_ HAROLD.

HAROLD (_to all_). Earls and Thanes!
Full thanks for your fair greeting of my bride!
Earls, Thanes, and all our countrymen! the day,
Our day beside the Derwent will not shine
Less than a star among the goldenest hours
Of Alfred, or of Edward his great son,
Or Athelstan, or English Ironside
Who fought with Knut, or Knut who coming Dane
Died English. Every man about his king
Fought like a king; the king like his own man,
No better; one for all, and all for one,
One soul! and therefore have we shatter'd back
The hugest wave from Norseland ever yet
Surged on us, and our battle-axes broken
The Raven's wing, and dumb'd his carrion croak
From the gray sea for ever. Many are gone--
Drink to the dead who died for us, the living
Who fought and would have died, but happier lived,
If happier be to live; they both have life
In the large mouth of England, till _her_ voice
Die with the world. Hail--hail!

MORCAR. May all invaders perish like Hardrada!
All traitors fail like Tostig. [_All drink but_ HAROLD.

ALDWYTH. Thy cup's full!

HAROLD. I saw the hand of Tostig cover it.
Our dear, dead, traitor-brother, Tostig, him
Reverently we buried. Friends, had I been here,
Without too large self-lauding I must hold
The sequel had been other than his league
With Norway, and this battle. Peace be with him!
He was not of the worst. If there be those
At banquet in this hall, and hearing me--
For there be those I fear who prick'd the lion
To make him spring, that sight of Danish blood
Might serve an end not English--peace with them
Likewise, if they can be at peace with what
God gave us to divide us from the wolf!

ALDWYTH (_aside to_ HAROLD).
Make not our Morcar sullen: it is not wise.

HAROLD. Hail to the living who fought, the dead who fell!

VOICES. Hail, hail!

FIRST THANE. How ran that answer which King Harold gave
To his dead namesake, when he ask'd for England?

LEOFWIN. 'Seven feet of English earth, or something more,
Seeing he is a giant! '

FIRST THANE. Then for the bastard
Six feet and nothing more!

LEOFWIN. Ay, but belike
Thou hast not learnt his measure.

FIRST THANE. By St. Edmund
I over-measure him. Sound sleep to the man
Here by dead Norway without dream or dawn!

SECOND THANE. What is he bragging still that he will come
To thrust our Harold's throne from under him?
My nurse would tell me of a molehill crying
To a mountain 'Stand aside and room for me! '

FIRST THANE. Let him come! let him come.
Here's to him, sink or swim! [_Drinks_.

SECOND THANE. God sink him!

FIRST THANE. Cannot hands which had the strength
To shove that stranded iceberg off our shores,
And send the shatter'd North again to sea,
Scuttle his cockle-shell? What's Brunanburg
To Stamford-bridge? a war-crash, and so hard,
So loud, that, by St. Dunstan, old St. Thor--
By God, we thought him dead--but our old Thor
Heard his own thunder again, and woke and came
Among us again, and mark'd the sons of those
Who made this Britain England, break the North:

Mark'd how the war-axe swang,
Heard how the war-horn sang,
Mark'd how the spear-head sprang,
Heard how the shield-wall rang,
Iron on iron clang,
Anvil on hammer bang--

SECOND THANE. Hammer on anvil, hammer on anvil. Old dog,
Thou art drunk, old dog!

FIRST THANE. Too drunk to fight with thee!

SECOND THANE. Fight thou with thine own double, not with me,
Keep that for Norman William!

FIRST THANE. Down with William!

THIRD THANE. The washerwoman's brat!

FOURTH THANE. The tanner's bastard!

FIFTH THANE.
The Falaise byblow!

[_Enter a_ THANE, _from Pevensey, spattered with mud_.

HAROLD. Ay, but what late guest,
As haggard as a fast of forty days,
And caked and plaster'd with a hundred mires,
Hath stumbled on our cups?

THANE _from Pevensey_. My lord the King!
William the Norman, for the wind had changed--

HAROLD. I felt it in the middle of that fierce fight
At Stamford-bridge. William hath landed, ha?

THANE _from Pevensey_. Landed at Pevensey--I am from Pevensey--
Hath wasted all the land at Pevensey--
Hath harried mine own cattle--God confound him!
I have ridden night and day from Pevensey--
A thousand ships--a hundred thousand men--
Thousands of horses, like as many lions
Neighing and roaring as they leapt to land--

HAROLD. How oft in coming hast thou broken bread?

THANE _from Pevensey_.
Some thrice, or so.

HAROLD. Bring not thy hollowness
On our full feast. Famine is fear, were it but
Of being starved. Sit down, sit down, and eat,
And, when again red-blooded, speak again;
(_Aside_. ) The men that guarded England to the South
Were scatter'd to the harvest. . . . No power mine
To hold their force together. . . . Many are fallen
At Stamford-bridge . . . the people stupid-sure
Sleep like their swine . . . in South and North at once
I could not be.
(_Aloud_. ) Gurth, Leofwin, Morcar, Edwin!
(_Pointing to the revellers_. )
The curse of England! these are drown'd in wassail,
And cannot see the world but thro' their wines!
Leave them! and thee too, Aldwyth, must I leave--
Harsh is the news! hard is our honeymoon!
Thy pardon. (_Turning round to his_ ATTENDANTS. )
Break the banquet up . . . Ye four!
And thou, my carrier-pigeon of black news,
Cram thy crop full, but come when thou art call'd.

[_Exit_ HAROLD.




ACT V.


SCENE I. --A TENT ON A MOUND, FROM WHICH CAN BE SEEN THE FIELD OF
SENLAC.

HAROLD, _sitting; by him standing_ HUGH MARGOT _the Monk_, GURTH,
LEOFWIN,


HAROLD. Refer my cause, my crown to Rome! . . . The wolf
Mudded the brook and predetermined all.
Monk,
Thou hast said thy say, and had my constant 'No'
For all but instant battle. I hear no more.

MARGOT. Hear me again--for the last time. Arise,
Scatter thy people home, descend the hill,
Lay hands of full allegiance in thy Lord's
And crave his mercy, for the Holy Father
Hath given this realm of England to the Norman.

HAROLD. Then for the last time, monk, I ask again
When had the Lateran and the Holy Father
To do with England's choice of her own king?

MARGOT. Earl, the first Christian Caesar drew to the East
To leave the Pope dominion in the West
He gave him all the kingdoms of the West.

HAROLD. So! --did he? --Earl--I have a mind to play
The William with thine eyesight and thy tongue.
Earl--ay--thou art but a messenger of William.
I am weary--go: make me not wroth with thee!

MARGOT. Mock-king, I am the messenger of God,
His Norman Daniel! Mene, Mene, Tekel!
Is thy wrath Hell, that I should spare to cry,
Yon heaven is wroth with _thee? _ Hear me again!
Our Saints have moved the Church that moves the world,
And all the Heavens and very God: they heard--
They know King Edward's promise and thine--thine.

HAROLD. Should they not know free England crowns herself?
Not know that he nor I had power to promise?
Not know that Edward cancell'd his own promise?
And for my part therein--Back to that juggler,
[_Rising_.
Tell him the saints are nobler than he dreams,
Tell him that God is nobler than the Saints,
And tell him we stand arm'd on Senlac Hill,
And bide the doom of God.

MARGOT. Hear it thro' me.
The realm for which thou art forsworn is cursed,
The babe enwomb'd and at the breast is cursed,
The corpse thou whelmest with thine earth is cursed,
The soul who fighteth on thy side is cursed,
The seed thou sowest in thy field is cursed,
The steer wherewith thou plowest thy field is cursed,
The fowl that fleeth o'er thy field is cursed,
And thou, usurper, liar--

HAROLD. Out, beast monk!
[_Lifting his hand to strike him_. GURTH _stops the blow_.
I ever hated monks.

MARGOT. I am but a voice
Among you: murder, martyr me if ye will--

HAROLD. Thanks, Gurth! The simple, silent, selfless man
Is worth a world of tonguesters. (_To_ MARGOT. ) Get thee gone!
He means the thing he says. See him out safe!

LEOFWIN. He hath blown himself as red as fire with curses.
An honest fool! Follow me, honest fool,
But if thou blurt thy curse among our folk,
I know not--I may give that egg-bald head
The tap that silences.

HAROLD. See him out safe.
[_Exeunt_ LEOFWIN _and_ MARGOT.

GURTH. Thou hast lost thine even temper, brother Harold!

HAROLD. Gurth, when I past by Waltham, my foundation
For men who serve the neighbour, not themselves,
I cast me down prone, praying; and, when I rose,
They told me that the Holy Rood had lean'd
And bow'd above me; whether that which held it
Had weaken'd, and the Rood itself were bound
To that necessity which binds us down;
Whether it bow'd at all but in their fancy;
Or if it bow'd, whether it symbol'd ruin
Or glory, who shall tell? but they were sad,
And somewhat sadden'd me.

GURTH. Yet if a fear,
Or shadow of a fear, lest the strange Saints
By whom thou swarest, should have power to balk
Thy puissance in this fight with him, who made
And heard thee swear--brother--_I_ have not sworn--
If the king fall, may not the kingdom fall?
But if I fall, I fall, and thou art king;
And, if I win, I win, and thou art king;
Draw thou to London, there make strength to breast
Whatever chance, but leave this day to me.

LEOFWIN (_entering_). And waste the land about thee as thou goest,
And be thy hand as winter on the field,
To leave the foe no forage.

HAROLD. Noble Gurth!
Best son of Godwin! If I fall, I fall--
The doom of God! How should the people fight
When the king flies? And, Leofwin, art thou mad?
How should the King of England waste the fields
Of England, his own people? --No glance yet
Of the Northumbrian helmet on the heath?

LEOFWIN. No, but a shoal of wives upon the heath,
And someone saw thy willy-nilly nun
Vying a tress against our golden fern.

HAROLD. Vying a tear with our cold dews, a sigh
With these low-moaning heavens. Let her be fetch'd.
We have parted from our wife without reproach,
Tho' we have dived thro' all her practices;
And that is well.

LEOFWIN. I saw her even now:
She hath not left us.

HAROLD.