No More Learning

No, daughter, but the canons out of Waltham,
The king's foundation, that have follow'd him.

EDITH. O God of battles, make their wall of shields
Firm as thy cliffs, strengthen their palisades!
What is that whirring sound?

STIGAND. The Norman arrow!

EDITH. Look out upon the battle--is he safe?

STIGAND. The king of England stands between his banners.
He glitters on the crowning of the hill.
God save King Harold!

EDITH. --chosen by his people
And fighting for his people!

STIGAND.
There is one
Come as Goliath came of yore--he flings
His brand in air and catches it again,
He is chanting some old warsong.

EDITH. And no David
To meet him?

STIGAND. Ay, there springs a Saxon on him,
Falls--and another falls.

EDITH. Have mercy on us!

STIGAND. Lo! our good Gurth hath smitten him to the death.

EDITH. So perish all the enemies of Harold!

CANONS (_singing_).

Hostis in Angliam
Ruit praedator,
Illorum, Domine,
Scutum scindatur!
Hostis per Angliae
Plagas bacchatur;
Casa crematur,
Pastor fugatur
Grex trucidatur--

STIGAND. Illos trucida, Domine.