How, Malet, if they be not
honourable!
Tennyson
The Normans love thee not, nor thou the Normans,
Or--so they deem.
HAROLD. But wherefore is the wind,
Which way soever the vane-arrow swing,
Not ever fair for England? Why but now
He said (thou heardst him) that I must not hence
Save on conditions.
MALET. So in truth he said.
HAROLD. Malet, thy mother was an Englishwoman;
There somewhere beats an English pulse in thee!
MALET. Well--for my mother's sake I love your England,
But for my father I love Normandy.
HAROLD. Speak for thy mother's sake, and tell me true.
MALET. Then for my mother's sake, and England's sake
That suffers in the daily want of thee,
Obey the Count's conditions, my good friend.
HAROLD.
How, Malet, if they be not honourable!
MALET. Seem to obey them.
HAROLD. Better die than lie!
MALET. Choose therefore whether thou wilt have thy conscience
White as a maiden's hand, or whether England
Be shatter'd into fragments.
HAROLD. News from England?
MALET. Morcar and Edwin have stirr'd up the Thanes
Against thy brother Tostig's governance;
And all the North of Humber is one storm.
HAROLD. I should be there, Malet, I should be there!
MALET. And Tostig in his own hall on suspicion
Hath massacred the Thane that was his guest,
Gamel, the son of Orm: and there be more
As villainously slain.
HAROLD.