Not know that Edward cancell'd his own
promise?
Tennyson
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!
