Queen Mary; and, Harold Part 54

Mark'd how the war-axe sw.a.n.g, Heard how the war-horn sang, Mark'd how the spear-head sprang, Heard how the s.h.i.+eld-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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d!

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--G.o.d confound him!

I have ridden night and day from Pevensey-- A thousand s.h.i.+ps--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 wa.s.sail, 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 G.o.d, His Norman Daniel! Mene, Mene, Tekel!

Is thy wrath h.e.l.l, 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 G.o.d: 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 n.o.bler than he dreams, Tell him that G.o.d is n.o.bler than the Saints, And tell him we stand arm'd on Senlac Hill, And bide the doom of G.o.d.

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 p.r.o.ne, 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.