 | Harold |  |
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ACT IV
SCENE I
(This is a spectacular scene and can be omitted.)SCENE II
The Saxon camp in violent contrast. Seated by their watch-fires the Saxon soldiers are drinking and trolling out old songs of war. At back Harold and Gurth enter silently, with cloaks hiding their armour. As they86
Gurth.
Brother, thou seest how the Norman monks
Steal on our fellows singing at their ease!
Mark how they'll cow these roaring roysterers.
Already each man pauses, cup in hand,
And the wild ballads die down on the night!
Listen, but be not seen!
[As the monks solemnly advance, the songs gradually cease, the men setting down their cups to listen.
The Chief Monk
(bearing a cross).
Woe to all you that by the watch-fires sing
The barbarous ballad! Woe and woe again
To all the Saxon host! Ye are defiled;
Whom do you fight for but an oath-breaker?
[Harold starts forward, but is restrained by Gurth.
Gurth.
Brother, be still! observe the heavy spell
That is already fallen on our host!
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Desist from the rough stave of war. Be still!
The Monk.
Ye men of England, feel ye not even now
The curse upon you? Lo! To-morrow ye
War not with men; ye war with God Himself!
The God of battles that remembereth!
Your hearts shall faint, your arms drop to your side,
The battle-axe is cloven in your hands,
Already are ye vanquished, not by man;
The Lord of hosts the Norman battle guides.
Leave then your king before the coming doom;
On his head be the pains of perjury!
You, ere it be too late, flee from the wrath!
I warn ye by this cross!
[He holds aloft the crucifix.
Other Monks.
Woe on ye! Woe!
[The Monks slowly depart.
A Soldier.
My blood runs cold in me.
Another.
I'll drink no more.
Another.
I will not leave the King though I be cursed!
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[To this the only response is silence.
Another.
He fights best who drinks best, not he who prays!
Another.
The heart is out of me; I sit in fear.
Gurth
(to Harold at back).
Now, brother, thou hast heard and thou hast seen!
Har.
I'll speak to them!
Gurth.
I pray you to keep silence.
But, Harold, that these men now cold and cowed
May summon back a courage for to-morrow,
Stand then out of the battle!
[Harold starts from him angrily.
Ah, I know
How difficult for thee! But so 'twere wise.
How can this host be any more accursed
If fighting but for their land and for thee?
And I, who have not violated oath,
I, who am not forsworn, may freely lead.
I plead with thee for England, not thyself.
[He makes a strong, pleading gesture to Harold.
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Then should I loathe myself for evermore,
And rightly then should all men point at me,
Saying, “Behold the man that lurked behind,
Sat idle in his tent while others bled.
The King who from the field of battle slunk,
And saw afar his subjects die for him.
Behold the nidering whose name was Harold!”
I think not that these dear, dear English hearts
Who have stood with me in many a bloody brunt,
Will quail at any monkish mummery,
When comes the battle-glee upon the mind,
And the great shout goes up: “For Harold strike!”
And where is he? A-tremble in his tent!
No! On this hill I stand; I'll not go back!
Gurth.
Hither too rash already hast thou marched,
And wilt thou be more rash?
Har.
Thou wastest words!
I smell the dawn of battle in the air!
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SCENE III
A road in the neighbourhood of Senlac. Sunset. Battle-cries of the rival armies are heard off. The Saxon is “Out! Out! Holy Cross!” and the Norman, “Ha Rou!” A group of peasants are waiting to hear news when Saxon soldiers in flight run across.A Soldier
(to peasants).
The King is slain; fly, fly!
Another.
Flee for your lives;
The Norman is upon you—our men fall!
Another
(wounded, limping).
Stay not a moment, if ye still would live!
I am sore hurt.
[Two peasants advancing help him onward.
Another.
Harold the King is fallen.
Three Others.
Harold is fallen, Harold is fallen.
A Peasant
(to others).
Away!
[They all exeunt hurriedly after the flying soldiers.
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SCENE IV
The tent of William of Normandy pitched on the field. Night after the battle. William and certain chosen knights are sitting at supper. Enter Elfrida, mother of Harold, followed by Edith, both hooded and stepping slowly. Some Saxon priests with torches accompany them.[Elfrida, advancing, kneels and touches the hand of the Duke.
Wil.
Woman, who art thou, that with leave ungiven
Com'st in upon us? Answer who thou art;
Urgent must be thy errand it would seem.
Elf.
Wist thou not by my touch I am his mother?
Sir, I have come unto thee and I kneel
To ask thee for my son Harold, the King.
[William starts from her.
Only his body now I beg of thee,
That I may bury it with solemn rite,
If not with ceremony, still with care.
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My wild Sweyn over seas; and Tostig next
Fell with Hardrada on the northern moor;
Now Harold, Gurth and Leofwin at once
All slain; a little thing I ask of thee,
Now all those boys I loved lie without breath,
To take the dearest up into my arms,
And carefully to lay him in the earth.
Wil.
Untombed let lie the accursèd of the Church,
And on his flesh the raven glut her young!
[Elfrida rises and slowly retires, weeping. Edith, advancing, stands before the conqueror with hood flung back.
Edith.
Norman, thou durst not so demean the brave,
Who England loved, and Edith, and England first.
Who tarried not by fierce Hardrada's course,
Nor lingered while ye plundered his dear land,
But from the North in anger came on you,
And stood up with his battle-axe and clove
The gathered chivalry of many realms.
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[A low murmur of admiration is heard from the Norman knights, which William hearing, speaks.
Wil.
Who then art thou that speakest without fear?
Edith.
O Duke, I am but she whom Harold loved,
And who loved Harold; now I do but ask
That I may have his body to bury it.
Her sorrow is the greater; she is old
And she did dandle him upon her arm,
When that which is a body was a babe.
But if thou wilt not to the mother yield,
Yet yield to me that so did love the dead!
[Further murmurs of praise.
The Sire de Mallet
(rising).
Sire, thou wilt do what seemeth to thee best.
But here, it seems to me, and all of us,
Who have fought by thee through this heavy day,
That, though the victors, we are gentlemen.
[Assent from knights.
And as no Norman yieldeth to a foe,
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Wil.
(somewhat moved).
Lady, that so didst love that man, depart
And find thy dead out from among the dead
And bury him with the due rite of priest.
But much I fear thou shalt not know his face,
So marred is he by battle and so changed.
Edith.
I should know Harold howsoever marred.
[She bows before the Duke and retires outward with Elfrida, followed by priests bearing torches.
SCENE V
The moonlit battle-field of Senlac. Edith and Elfrida, hooded, are guided slowly over the hill among the slain, gazing first upon one, then upon another of the strewn dead. At last Edith throws herself on the body of Harold beneath the torn Saxon standard with a cry. Two priests advance and throw95
A Priest
(bending down with torch).
Lady, is it the King? I knew him not.
Edith.
Belovèd, all those scars deceive not me.
[The moon, emerging, falls on Edith, who has raised Harold's head upon her lap.
Curtain.
| Harold | |