HAROLD. Do they? I did not know it.
EDITH. They say thou art to wed the Lady Aldwyth.
HAROLD. They say, they say.
EDITH. If this be politic,
And well for thee and England--and for her--
Care not for me who love thee.
GURTH (_calling_). Harold, Harold!
HAROLD. The voice of Gurth! (_Enter_ GURTH.)
Good even, my good brother!
GURTH. Good even, gentle Edith.
EDITH. Good even, Gurth.
GURTH. Ill news hath come! Our hapless brother, Tostig--
He, and the giant King of Norway, Harold
Hardrada--Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, Orkney,
Are landed North of Humber, and in a field
So packt with carnage that the dykes and brooks
Were bridged and damm'd with dead, have overthrown
Morcar and Edwin.
HAROLD. Well then, we must fight.
How blows the wind?
GURTH. Against St. Valery
And William.
HAROLD. Well then, we will to the North.
GURTH. Ay, but worse news: this William sent to Rome,
Swearing thou swarest falsely by his Saints:
The Pope and that Archdeacon Hildebrand
His master, heard him, and have sent him back
A holy gonfanon, and a blessed hair
Of Peter, and all France, all Burgundy,
Poitou, all Christendom is raised against thee;
He hath cursed thee, and all those who fight for thee,
And given thy realm of England to the bastard.
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