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Why that was false : there is the right, I'll fight it on the threshold of the hand still
grave. Beckons me hence.
Lady Clarence. Madam, your royal Sir, you were burnt for heresy, not for sister comes to see you. treason,
Mary. I will not see her. Remember that! 't was I and Bonner Who knows if Boleyn's daughter be my did it,
sister? And Pole ; we are three to one --- Have I will see none except the priest. Your you found mercy there,
arm. [To LADY CLARENCE. Grant it me here : and see he smiles O Saint of Aragon, with that sweet worn and goes,
smile Gentle as in life.
Among thy patient wrinkles - Help me Alice. Madam, who goes ? King hence.
[Exeunt. Philip? Mary. No, Philip comes and goes, ?
The PRIEST passes. Enter ELIZABETH but never goes.
and Sir WILLIAM CECIL. Women, when I am dead,
Elizabeth. Good counsel yours --Open my heart, and there you will find
No one in waiting? still, written
As if the chamberlain were Death him. Two names, Philip and Calais ; open his,
The room she sleeps in — is not this the So that he have one, –
way? You will find Philip only, policy, No, that way there are voices. Am 1 policy, —
too late ? Ay, worse than that -- not one hour Cecil ... God guide me lest I lose the true to me!
[Exit ELIZABETH. Foul maggots crawling in a fester'd vice! Cecil. Many points weather'd, many Adulterous to the very heart of Hell. I perilous ones, Hast thou a knife ?
At last a harbor opens ; but therein Alice. Ay, Madam, but o' God's Sunk rocks -- they need find steering mercy
-- much it is Mary. Fool, think'st thou I would | To be nor mad, nor bigot - have a peril mine own soul
mind By slaughter of the body? I could not, Not let Priests' talk, or dream of worlds
to be, Not this way — callous with a constant Miscolor things about her — sudden stripe,
touches Unwoundable. Thy knife !
For him, or him — sunk rocks ; no pasAlice.
Take heed, take heed ! sionate faith The blade is keen as death.
But — if let be - balance and comproMary.
This Philip shall not Stare in upon me in my haggardness ; Brave, wary, sane to the heart of her -Old, miserable, diseased,
a Tudor Incapable of children. Come thou down, School'd by the shadow of death - a
(Cuts out the picture and throws it Boleyn, too,
Glancing across the Tudor -- not so well. Lie there. (Wails.) O God, I have
Enter ALICE killed my Philip. Alice.
How is the good Queen now? Madam, you have but cut the canvas out,
Away from Philip. We can replace it.
Back in her childhood – prattling to Mary. All is well then ; rest – her mother I will to rest; he said, I must have rest. Of her betrothal to the Emperor Charles,
[Cries of “ ELIZABETH " in the street. | And childlike-jealous of him again -A cry! What's that? Elizabeth? re- and once volt?
She thank'd her father sweetly for his A new Northumberland, another Wyatt?! book
Against that godless German. Ah, Poor sister? Sir, I swear I have no heart those days
To be your Queen. To reign is restless Were happy. It was never merry world fence, In England, since the Bible came among Tierce, quart, and trickery. Peace is us.
with the dead. Cecil. And who says that ?
Her life was winter, for her spring was Alice. It is a saying among the nipt: Catholics.
And she loved much : pray God she be Cecil. It never will be nierry world forgiven. in England,
Cecil. Peace with the dead, who Till all men have their Bible, rich and
never were at peace! poor.
Yet she loved one so much -- I needs Alice. The Queen is dying, or you must say — dare not say it.
That never English monarch dying left Enter ELIZABETH.
England so little.
Élizabeth. But with Cecil's aid Elizabeth. The Queen is dead.
And others, if our person be secured Cecil. Then here she stands ! my From traitor stabs — we will make Eng. homage.
land great. Elizabeth. She knew me, and ac
| Enter Pages, and other LORDS OF THE knowledged me her heir, Pray'd me to pay her debts, and keep
COUNCIL, SIR RALPH BAGENHALL, etc. the Faith ;
Lords. God save Elizabeth, the Queen Then claspt the cross, and pass’d away of England ! in peace.
Bagenhall. God save the Crown: the I left her lying still and beautiful,
Papacy is no more. More beautiful than in life. Why would Paget (aside). Are we so sure of that? you vex yourself,
Acclamation. God save the Queen!
TO HIS EXCELLENCY
VICEROY AND GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF INDIA.
MY DEAR LORD LYTTON, -- After old-world records, - such as the Bayeux tapestry and the Roman de Rou, Edward Freeman's History of the Norman Conquest, and your father's Historical Romance treating of the same times, have been mainly helpful to me in writing this Drama. Your father dedicated his “Harold ” to my father's brother; allow me to dedicate my “Harold" to yourself.
A. TENNTSOX. SHOW-DAY AT BATTLE ABBEY, 1876.
A garden here — May breath and bloom of spring -
KING EDWARD THE CONFESSOR.
Sons of Godwin
EDITH (Ward of King Edward).
• Compater Heraldi, quidam partim Normannus et Anglus. – Guy of Amiens.
| Three rods of blood-red fire up yonder
mnean SCENE I. - LONDON. THE KING'S The doom of England and the wrath of PALACE.
Heaven ? (A comet seen through the open window.) | Bishop of London (passing). Did ye
not cast with bestial violence ALDWYTH, GAMEL, COURTIERS (talking Our holy Norman bishops down from all together).
Their thrones in England ? I alone reFirst Courtier. Lo ! there once more main.
- this is the seventh night! Why should not Heaven be wroth ? Yon grimly-glaring, treble-brandish'd Leofwin.
With us, or thee? scourge
Bishop of London. Did ye not outlaw Of England !
your archbishop Robert, Second Courtier. Horrible !
Robert of Jumièges — well-nigh murder First Courtier. Look you, there's a him too? star
Is there no reason for the wrath of That dances in it as mad with agony !
Teaven ? Third Courtier. Ay, like a spirit in Leofwin. Why then the wrath of hell who skips and flies
Heaven hath three tails, To right and left, and cannot scape the | The devil only one. flame.
[Excit BISHOP OF LONDON. Second Courtier, Steam'd upward Enter ARCHBISHOP STIGAND.
from the undescendible Abysm.
Ask our Archbishop. First Courtier. Or floated downward Stigand should know the purposes of from the throne
Heaven. Of God Almighty.
Stigand. Not I. I cannot read the Aldwyth. Gamel, son of Orm,
face of heaven, What thinkest thou this means ?
Perhaps our vines will grow the better Gamel. War, my dear lady!
for it. Aldwyth. Doth this affright thee? Leofwin (laughing). He can but read Gamei. Mightily, my dear lady! the king's face on his coins. Aldwyth. Stand by me then, and look
Stigand. Ay, ay, young lord, there the upon my face,
king's face is power. Not on the comet.
Gurth. O father, mock not at a public
fear, Enter MORCAR.
But tell us, is this pendent hell in heaven Brother ! why so pale ? | A harm to England ? Morcar. It glares in heaven, it fares Stigand. Ask it of King Edward ! upon the Thames,
And may he tell thee, I am a harm to The people are as thick as bees below,
England. They hum like bees, — they cannot speak
Old uncanonical Stigand — ask of me - for awe;
Who had my pallium from an Antipope! Look to the skies, then to the river, Not he the man - for in our windy world strike
What's up is faith, what's down is Their hearts, and hold their babies up
heresy. to it.
Our friends, the Normans, holp to shake I think that they would Molochize them
his chair. too,
| I have a Norman fever on me, son, To have the heavens clear.
And cannot answer sanely.... What it Aldwyth. They fright not me.
Ask our broad Earl. Enter LEOFWIN, after him GURTH.
[Pointing to HAROLD, who enters, Ask thou Lord Leofwin what he thinks Harold (seeing GAMEL). Hail, Games, of this!
son of Ork! Morcar. Lord Leofwin. dost thou be. Albeit no rolling stone, my good friend lieve, that these
Thou hast rounded since we met. Thyl Gurth. I trust the kingly touch that life at home
cures the evil Is easier than mine here. Look ! am I May serve to charm the tiger out of him. not
Leofwin. He hath as much of cat as Work-wan, flesh-fallen?
tiger in him. Gamel. Art thou sick, good Earl ? Our Tostig loves the hand and not the Harold. Sick as an autumn swallow
man. for a voyage,
Harold. Nay! Better die than lie ! Sick for an idle week of hawk and hound
Enter King, QUEEN and ToSTIG. Beyond the seas -- a change! When camest thou hither?
In heaven signs ! Gamel. To-day, good Earl.
Signs upon earth! signs everywhere ! Harold. Is the North quiet, Gamel? your Priests Gamel. Nay, there be murmurs, for Gross, worldly, simoniacal, unleam'd ! thy brother breaks us
They scarce can read their Psalter ; and With over-taxing - quiet, ay, as yet —
your churches Nothing as yet.
Uncouth, unhandsome, while in NorHarold. Stand by him, mine old manland friend,
God speaks thro' abler voices, as He Thou art a great voice in Northumber
In statelier shrines. I say not this, as Advise him : 'speak him sweetly, he will being hear thee.
Half Norman-blooded, nor as some have He is passionate but honest. Stand thou held, by him!
Because I love the Norman better -- no, More talk of this to-morrow, if yon weird But dreading God's revenge upon this sign
realm Not blast us in our dreams. Well, father For narrowness and coldness : and I say it Stigand
For the last time perchance, before I go [To STIGAND, who adrances to him. To find the sweet refreshment of the Sligand (pointing to the comet). War Saints.
there, my son ? is that the doom I have lived a life of utter purity :
I have builded the great church of Holy Harold. Why not the doom of all the Peter : : world as well ?
I have wrought miracles — to God the For all the world sees it as well as Eng. glory — land.
And miracles will in my name be wrought These meteors came and went before our | Hereafter. – I have fought the fight and
. day, Not harming any: it threatens us no I see the flashing of the gates of pearl — more
And it is well with me, tho' some of you Than French or Norman. War ? the Have scorn'd me -- ay - but after I am
worst that follows Things that seem jerk'd out of the com- Woe, woe to England ! I have had a mon rut
vision ; Of Nature is the hot religious fool, | The seven sleepers in the cave at Ephesus Who, seeing war in heaven, for heaven's Have turn'd from right to left. credit
Harold. My most dear Master, Makes it on earth : but look, where Ed- What matters ? let them turn from left ward draws
to right A faint foot hither, leaning upon Tostig. And sleep again. He hath learnt to love our Tostig much Tostig. Too hardy with thy king! of late.
A life of prayer and fasting well may Leofwin. And he hath learnt, despite
see the tiger in him,
Deeper into the mysteries of heaven To sleek and supple himself to the king's Than thou, good brother. hand.
Aldwyth (aside). Sees he into thine,