Since I knew battle,
And that was from my boyhood, never yet--
No, by the splendour of God--have I fought men
Like Harold and his brethren, and his guard
Of English. Every man about his king
Fell where he stood. They loved him: and, pray God
My Normans may but move as true with me
To the door of death. Of one self-stock at first,
Make them again one people--Norman, English;
And English, Norman; we should have a hand
To grasp the world with, and a foot to stamp it ...
Flat. Praise the Saints, It is over. No more blood!
I am king of England, so they thwart me not,
And I will rule according to their laws.
(_To_ ALDWYTH.) Madam, we will entreat thee with all honour.
ALDWYTH. My punishment is more than I can bear.
End of Project Gutenberg's Queen Mary and Harold, by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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