And not on thee--nor England--fall God's doom!
EDITH. On _thee?_ on me. And thou art England! Alfred
Was England. Ethelred was nothing. England
Is but her king, and thou art Harold!
HAROLD. Edith,
The sign in heaven--the sudden blast at sea--
My fatal oath--the dead Saints--the dark dreams--
The Pope's Anathema--the Holy Rood
That bow'd to me at Waltham--Edith, if
I, the last English King of England--
EDITH. No,
First of a line that coming from the people,
And chosen by the people--
HAROLD. And fighting for
And dying for the people--
EDITH. Living! living!
HAROLD. Yea so, good cheer! thou art Harold, I am Edith!
Look not thus wan!
EDITH. What matters how I look?
Have we not broken Wales and Norseland? slain,
Whose life was all one battle, incarnate war,
Their giant-king, a mightier man-in-arms
Than William.
HAROLD. Ay, my girl, no tricks in him--
No bastard he! when all was lost, he yell'd,
And bit his shield, and dash'd it on the ground,
And swaying his two-handed sword about him,
Two deaths at every swing, ran in upon us
And died so, and I loved him as I hate
This liar who made me liar. If Hate can kill,
And Loathing wield a Saxon battle-axe--
EDITH.
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