_Enter_ HAROLD.
HAROLD. The nightingales in Havering-at-the-Bower
Sang out their loves so loud, that Edward's prayers
Were deafen'd and he pray'd them dumb, and thus
I dumb thee too, my wingless nightingale!
[_Kissing her_.
EDITH. Thou art my music! Would their wings were mine
To follow thee to Flanders! Must thou go?
HAROLD. Not must, but will. It is but for one moon.
EDITH. Leaving so many foes in Edward's hall
To league against thy weal. The Lady Aldwyth
Was here to-day, and when she touch'd on thee,
She stammer'd in her hate; I am sure she hates thee,
Pants for thy blood.
HAROLD. Well, I have given her cause--
I fear no woman.
EDITH. Hate not one who felt
Some pity for thy hater! I am sure
Her morning wanted sunlight, she so praised
The convent and lone life--within the pale--
Beyond the passion. Nay--she held with Edward,
At least methought she held with holy Edward,
That marriage was half sin.
HAROLD. A lesson worth
Finger and thumb--thus (_snaps his fingers_). And my answer to it--
See here--an interwoven H and E!
Take thou this ring; I will demand his ward
From Edward when I come again. Ay, would she?
She to shut up my blossom in the dark!
Thou art _my_ nun, thy cloister in mine arms.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181