No More Learning

_Enter_ ARCHBISHOP STIGAND.

Ask _our_ Archbishop.
Stigand should know the purposes of Heaven.

STIGAND. Not I. I cannot read the face of heaven;
Perhaps our vines will grow the better for it.

LEOFWIN (_laughing_).
He can but read the king's face on his coins.

STIGAND. Ay, ay, young lord, _there_ the king's face is power.

GURTH. O father, mock not at a public fear,
But tell us, is this pendent hell in heaven
A harm to England?

STIGAND. Ask it of King Edward!
And he may tell thee, _I_ am a harm to England.
Old uncanonical Stigand--ask of _me_
Who had my pallium from an Antipope!
Not he the man--for in our windy world
What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.
Our friends, the Normans, holp to shake his chair.
I have a Norman fever on me, son,
And cannot answer sanely. . . . What it means?
Ask our broad Earl.
[_Pointing to_ HAROLD, _who enters_.

HAROLD (_seeing_ GAMEL).
Hail, Gamel, son of Orm!
Albeit no rolling stone, my good friend Gamel,
Thou hast rounded since we met. Thy life at home
Is easier than mine here. Look! am I not
Work-wan, flesh-fallen?