Is it not thy
birthday?
Tennyson
If Hate can kill,
And Loathing wield a Saxon battle-axe--
EDITH. Waste not thy might before the battle!
HAROLD. No,
And thou must hence. Stigand will see thee safe,
And so--Farewell. [_He is going, but turns back_.
The ring thou darest not wear.
I have had it fashion'd, see, to meet my hand.
[HAROLD _shows the ring which is on his finger_.
Farewell! [_He is going, but turns back again_.
I am dead as Death this day to ought of earth's
Save William's death or mine.
EDITH. Thy death! --to-day!
Is it not thy birthday?
HAROLD. Ay, that happy day!
A birthday welcome! happy days and many!
One--this! [_They embrace_.
Look, I will bear thy blessing into the battle
And front the doom of God.
NORMAN CRIES (_heard in the distance_).
Ha Rou! Ha Rou!
_Enter_ GURTH.
GURTH. The Norman moves!
HAROLD. Harold and Holy Cross!
And Loathing wield a Saxon battle-axe--
EDITH. Waste not thy might before the battle!
HAROLD. No,
And thou must hence. Stigand will see thee safe,
And so--Farewell. [_He is going, but turns back_.
The ring thou darest not wear.
I have had it fashion'd, see, to meet my hand.
[HAROLD _shows the ring which is on his finger_.
Farewell! [_He is going, but turns back again_.
I am dead as Death this day to ought of earth's
Save William's death or mine.
EDITH. Thy death! --to-day!
Is it not thy birthday?
HAROLD. Ay, that happy day!
A birthday welcome! happy days and many!
One--this! [_They embrace_.
Look, I will bear thy blessing into the battle
And front the doom of God.
NORMAN CRIES (_heard in the distance_).
Ha Rou! Ha Rou!
_Enter_ GURTH.
GURTH. The Norman moves!
HAROLD. Harold and Holy Cross!
