Canst thou love one
Who did discrown thine husband, unqueen thee?
Who did discrown thine husband, unqueen thee?
Tennyson
Morcar and Edwin, will ye upon oath,
Help us against the Norman?
MORCAR. With good will;
Yea, take the Sacrament upon it, king.
HAROLD. Where is thy sister?
MORCAR. Somewhere hard at hand.
Call and she comes.
[_One goes out, then enter_ ALDWYTH.
HAROLD. I doubt not but thou knowest
Why thou art summon'd.
ALDWYTH. Why? --I stay with these,
Lest thy fierce Tostig spy me out alone,
And flay me all alive.
HAROLD.
Canst thou love one
Who did discrown thine husband, unqueen thee?
Didst thou not love thine husband?
ALDWYTH. Oh! my lord,
The nimble, wild, red, wiry, savage king--
That was, my lord, a match of policy.
HAROLD. Was it?
I knew him brave: he loved his land: he fain
Had made her great: his finger on her harp
(I heard him more than once) had in it Wales,
Her floods, her woods, her hills: had I been his,
I had been all Welsh.
ALDWYTH. Oh, ay--all Welsh--and yet
I saw thee drive him up his hills--and women
Cling to the conquer'd, if they love, the more;
If not, they cannot hate the conqueror.
We never--oh! good Morcar, speak for us,
His conqueror conquer'd Aldwyth.
HAROLD. Goodly news!
MORCAR. Doubt it not thou!
Help us against the Norman?
MORCAR. With good will;
Yea, take the Sacrament upon it, king.
HAROLD. Where is thy sister?
MORCAR. Somewhere hard at hand.
Call and she comes.
[_One goes out, then enter_ ALDWYTH.
HAROLD. I doubt not but thou knowest
Why thou art summon'd.
ALDWYTH. Why? --I stay with these,
Lest thy fierce Tostig spy me out alone,
And flay me all alive.
HAROLD.
Canst thou love one
Who did discrown thine husband, unqueen thee?
Didst thou not love thine husband?
ALDWYTH. Oh! my lord,
The nimble, wild, red, wiry, savage king--
That was, my lord, a match of policy.
HAROLD. Was it?
I knew him brave: he loved his land: he fain
Had made her great: his finger on her harp
(I heard him more than once) had in it Wales,
Her floods, her woods, her hills: had I been his,
I had been all Welsh.
ALDWYTH. Oh, ay--all Welsh--and yet
I saw thee drive him up his hills--and women
Cling to the conquer'd, if they love, the more;
If not, they cannot hate the conqueror.
We never--oh! good Morcar, speak for us,
His conqueror conquer'd Aldwyth.
HAROLD. Goodly news!
MORCAR. Doubt it not thou!