If Hate can kill,
And Loathing wield a Saxon battle-axe--
EDITH.
And Loathing wield a Saxon battle-axe--
EDITH.
Tennyson
No,
First of a line that coming from the people,
And chosen by the people--
HAROLD. And fighting for
And dying for the people--
EDITH. Living! living!
HAROLD. Yea so, good cheer! thou art Harold, I am Edith!
Look not thus wan!
EDITH. What matters how I look?
Have we not broken Wales and Norseland? slain,
Whose life was all one battle, incarnate war,
Their giant-king, a mightier man-in-arms
Than William.
HAROLD. Ay, my girl, no tricks in him--
No bastard he! when all was lost, he yell'd,
And bit his shield, and dash'd it on the ground,
And swaying his two-handed sword about him,
Two deaths at every swing, ran in upon us
And died so, and I loved him as I hate
This liar who made me liar.
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?
First of a line that coming from the people,
And chosen by the people--
HAROLD. And fighting for
And dying for the people--
EDITH. Living! living!
HAROLD. Yea so, good cheer! thou art Harold, I am Edith!
Look not thus wan!
EDITH. What matters how I look?
Have we not broken Wales and Norseland? slain,
Whose life was all one battle, incarnate war,
Their giant-king, a mightier man-in-arms
Than William.
HAROLD. Ay, my girl, no tricks in him--
No bastard he! when all was lost, he yell'd,
And bit his shield, and dash'd it on the ground,
And swaying his two-handed sword about him,
Two deaths at every swing, ran in upon us
And died so, and I loved him as I hate
This liar who made me liar.
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?
