No More Learning

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!