For in the racing toward this golden goal
He turns not right or left, but tramples flat
Whatever thwarts him; hast thou never heard
His savagery at Alençon, — the town

Hung out raw hides along their walls, and cried "Work for the tanner."

Harold.

Had I been William.

Wulfnoth.

That had angered me,

Nay, but he had prisoners,

He tore their eyes out, sliced their hands away,
And flung them streaming o'er the battlements
Upon the heads of those who walk'd within
O speak him fair, Harold, for thine own sake.
Harold. Your Welshman says, "The Truth against

the World,"

Much more the truth against myself.

Wulfnoth.

Thyself? But for my sake, oh, brother! oh! for my sake! Harold. Poor Wulfnoth! do they not entreat thee well?

Wulfnoth. I see the blackness of my dungeon loom Across their lamps of revel, and beyond

The merriest murmurs of their banquet clank
The shackles that will bind me to the wall.
Harold. Too fearful still.

Wulfnoth.

Oh no, no,—speak him fair!

Call it to temporize; and not to lie;

Harold, I do not counsel thee to lie.

The man that hath to foil a murderous aim
May, surely, play with words.

D

Harold.

Words are the man.

Not ev'n for thy sake, brother, would I lie.

Wulfnoth. Then for thine Edith?

Harold.

There thou prickst me deep.

Deeper still.

Wulfnoth. And for our Mother England?

Harold.

Wulfnoth. And deeper still the deep-down oubliette,

Down thirty feet below the smiling day

In blackness - dogs' food thrown upon thy head.
And over thee the suns arise and set,

And the lark sings, the sweet stars come and go,
And men are at their markets, in their fields,
And woo their loves and have forgotten thee;
And thou art upright in thy living grave,
Where there is barely room to shift thy side,
And all thine England hath forgotten thee;
And he our lazy-pious Norman King,

With all his Normans round him once again,
Counts his old beads, and hath forgotten thee.

William. Why then the heir of England, who is he? Harold. The Atheling is nearest to the throne.

William. But sickly, slight, half-witted and a child, Will England have him king?

He loved us and we him, because we found him
A Norman of the Normans.

Harold.

So did we.

William. A gentle, gracious, pure and saintly

man!

And grateful to the hand that shielded him,

He promised that if ever he were king

In England, he would give his kingly voice
To me as his successor. Knowest thou this?
Harold. I learn it now.

William.

Thou knowest I am his cousin,

Ay.

And that my wife descends from Alfred?

Harold.

William. Who hath a better claim then to the

crown

So that ye will not crown the Atheling?

Harold. None that I know if that but hung upon King Edward's will.

William.

Wilt thou uphold my claim? Malet (aside to Harold). Be careful of thine answer, my good friend.

Wulfnoth (aside to Harold). Oh! Harold, for my sake and for thine own!

Harold. Ay-if the king have not revoked his

promise.

William. But hath he done it then?

Harold. Not that I know.

William. Good, good, and thou wilt help me to the

crown.

Harold. Ay

if the Witan will consent to this. William. Thou are the mightiest voice in England,

man,

Thy voice will lead the Witan-shall I have it? Wulfnoth (aside to Harold). Oh! Harold, if thou love thine Edith, ay.

Malet (aside to Harold). Thine 'ifs' will sear

William. I ask thee, wilt thou help me to the crown? And I will make thee my great Earl of Earls, Foremost in England and in Normandy; Thou shalt be verily king · all but the name For I shall most sojourn in Normandy;

And thou be my vice-king in England. Speak. Wulfnoth (aside to Harold). Ay, brother - for the sake of England - ay.

Harold.

My lord

Malet (aside to Harold). Take heed now.
Harold. Ay.

William.

I am content,

For thou art truthful, and thy word thy bond.
To-morrow will we ride with thee to Harfleur.

[Exit William.

Malet. Harold, I am thy friend, one life with thee, And even as I should bless thee, saving mine, I thank thee now for having saved thyself.

[Exit Malet. Harold. For having lost myself to save myself, Said 'ay' when I meant 'no,' lied like a lad

That dreads the pendent scourge, said 'ay' for 'no' ! Ay ! No! — he hath not bound me by an oath

Is 'ay' an oath? is 'ay' strong as an oath?

Or is it the same sin to break my word

As break mine oath? He call'd my word my bond!
He is a liar who knows I am a liar,

And makes believe that he believes
my word
The crime be on his head- not bounden no.

(Suddenly doors are flung open, discovering in an inner hall Count William in his state robes, seated upon his throne, between two bishops, Odo of Bayeux being one: in the centre of the hall an ark covered with cloth of gold; and on either side of it the Norman barons.)

William. (Descends from his throne and stands by the ark.)

Let all men here bear witness of our bond!

(Beckons to Harold, who advances.

hind him.)

Enter Malet be

Lay thou thy hand upon this golden pall!
Behold the jewel of St. Pancratius

Woven into the gold. Swear thou on this!

Harold. What should I swear? Why should I

swear on this?