EDWARD. Yea, I know
He knew not, but those heavenly ears have heard,
Their curse is on him; wilt thou bring another,
Edith, upon his head?
EDITH. No, no, not I.
EDWARD. Why then, thou must not wed him.
HAROLD. Wherefore, wherefore?
EDWARD. O son, when thou didst tell me of thine oath,
I sorrow'd for my random promise given
To yon fox-lion. I did not dream then
I should be king.--My son, the Saints are virgins;
They love the white rose of virginity,
The cold, white lily blowing in her cell:
I have been myself a virgin; and I sware
To consecrate my virgin here to heaven--
The silent, cloister'd, solitary life,
A life of life-long prayer against the curse
That lies on thee and England.
HAROLD. No, no, no.
EDWARD. Treble denial of the tongue of flesh,
Like Peter's when he fell, and thou wilt have
To wail for it like Peter. O my son!
Are all oaths to be broken then, all promises
Made in our agony for help from heaven?
Son, there is one who loves thee: and a wife,
What matters who, so she be serviceable
In all obedience, as mine own hath been:
God bless thee, wedded daughter.
[_Laying his hand on the_ QUEEN'S _head_.
QUEEN. Bless thou too
That brother whom I love beyond the rest,
My banish'd Tostig.
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