L: THE SONS OF GODWIN A TRAGEDY. BY WILLIAM LEIGHTON, JR. * There's a divinity that shapes our ends. Rough-hew them how we will." PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1877. Copyright, 1876, by WILLIAM LEIGHTON, JR. DRAMATIS PERSONS. EDWARD THE THIRD, of the Saxon line, King of England. HARALD HARDRADA, King of Norway. EARL HAROLD, afterward king, EARL TOSTIG, Sons of Godwin. EARL GURTH, EARL MORKAR. ALDRED, Archbishop of York. STIGAND, Archbishop of Canterbury. GUTHLAC, a thane. MOLLO, a minstrel. OSBALD, a messenger. HUGH MARGOT, a Norman priest. SEXWULF, a Saxon slave. Messengers from Exeter, Sandwich, and Hastings. Thanes, priests, English soldiers, Norwegian soldiers, attendants, guards, servants, etc. THE COUNTESS GYTHA, widow of Earl Godwin. THE LADY EDITH. An Abbess. Saxon women. Time of the drama, A.D. 1065-6. 3 2062129 THE SONS OF GODWIN. THE SONS OF GODWIN. ACT I. SCENE I. LONDON. An antechamber in the house of EARL HAROLD. GUTHLAC and MOLLO. 9 MOLLO. Most noble thane, I would not push myself, So well I know my insignificance, Into your thoughts, but that I plainly see In the dark sombreness of your grave face, The fitful flashing of your eagle eye, The furious champing of your long moustache, That weighty matter fills your valiant breast ; And though a gleeman I, unknown to fame, I fain would find some grand and swelling theme On which my song may soar to fame's renown j For, little as I am, I sigh for fame, The poet's fame, the glory of the bard \ 8 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. So, mighty Guthlac, let me have your thought, That both may live heroic through all time, The poet-minstrel and the warrior-thane. GUTHLAC. A saucy laugher, naming thus yourself, Although ceorl-born, before you name a thane Despite your folly and your laughing sneers, The stuff my thought is made of might indeed Yield to the minstrel fitting theme of song : I thought of Gryffyth, Cymry's dragon-king, Whom late we tracked to his wild mountain crags, And brought to bay where eagle aeries perch, Bathed in the moisture of the floating clouds. MOLLO. aye ; you were with Harold in his wars, And leaped like Welsh goat on steep Penmaen-mawr ; 1 bow to the brave hero, whose great shouts Frighted the eagles from their Cymrian cliffs. GUTHLAC. Scoffer, brave fight the gallant Welsh king made, And died at bay, as dies the mountain bear, Destroying his destroyers. Our great earl, Victor alike on sea, on lowland plain, SCENE I.] The Sons of Godwin. 9 Or high in air among the cloudy cliffs, Wise as Earl Godwin, and as Tostig brave, Himself declared, though England's weal required The Welshman's death, his grand heroic end In festal halls should England's minstrels sing. MOLLO. List while I frame my verse to this great theme ; Inspired by Polyhymnia I will sing. To the music of his harp MOLLO chants the fol- lowing verses : Penmaen-mawr is tinged with blue, Gleaming in the sky's bright hue, Piercing mists and cloudlets through, Vastly grand. Shouts resound amid the skies ; Craggy cliffs reflect wild cries ; Shrieking, loud an eagle flies Far away ; What affrights the feathered king ? What alarums loudly ring Round the crags while banners fling Wide their folds ? A* io The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. See the spear-points shining bright; On broad axe-heads gleams the light ; Harold climbs with Saxon might Cymry's hold. In the wildest spot of all, Highest peak of mountains tall, Rugged rocks, his fortress-wall, Gryflyth stands. Once his race possessed the land, Valleys, plains and mountains grand ; To the sea on either hand All was theirs. First the conquering Roman came ; Then the spoiling Pict and Dane ; Last the Saxon from the main Landed here. Robbed of all his wide domains, Driven from fair vales and plains, Naught of all to him remains But these crags. Yes, he has his freedom still, Dauntless heart and iron will Never servile place to fill; These are his. SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. \ \ As they track the savage bear Growling to his mountain lair, Hedge him round and slay him there, Gryffyth fell. Let the bards his story tell : How a British hero fell, He, whom Death alone could quell, Gryffyth brave. GUTHLAC. 'Twas a brave end ; but this is not the song Your minstrelsy should raise in Harold's halls Harold, the vanquisher of Cymry's king ; Such poesy will bring you no reward Unless you sing it on high Penmaen-mawr, Where some poor Welshman, passion-stirred by it, May bind your brow with odoriferous leeks. A servant of this house should bid his muse Sing not the death-songs of retreating kings, But the bold music of advancing chiefs, Of Brythnoth, slayer of the Danish jarl, Of sea-king Wulfnoth, the brave Childe of Sussex, Of Godwin, father of a mighty race, Of Harold, guardian genius of the land, Of Tostig, fearing neither man nor fiend, 12 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. Of Leofwine who laughs amid the battle, Of Gurth, the true MOLLO. Of Guthlac, poet-warrior. GUTHLAC. Nay, minstrel : these great names on flood of song Will grandly sail far down the stream of Time, Awakening echoes on its sounding shores When such as yours and mine forgotten sleep. MOLLO. You should have been a minstrel. GUTHLAC. Yes, perhaps. MOLLO. I took my theme of Gryffyth from your lips. GUTHLAC. Then 'twas the poet, not the soldier, spoke. Pshaw ! Saxon and Cymrian 'tis to match A kingly lion with a mountain cat, An eagle with a kite SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 13 Enter EARL GURTH. Welcome, my Lord. GURTH. Fair greeting to you, brave and honest Guthlac. My brother is he here ? GUTHLAC. He is, my Lord Pardon ; I see grave import in your face : If you have news from court that may be told To one who hath the English weal at heart, To one, the leal adherent of your house, I ask your tidings. GURTH. None more leal than Guthlac. Yet this same news that makes my features grave, Event of import to all Englishmen, Is common property to every ear : Edward the ^Etheling to-day is dead. Exit EARL GURTH across. GUTHLAC. The ^Etheling dead ! ! 4 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. MOLLO. You do purse up your lips, Great Guthlac ; is it sorrow ? GUTHLAC. Nay indeed, Not sorrow. Though a prince of Cerdic's line, And son of valiant Edmund Ironside, True Saxon hero and brave English king, Yet this dead ^Etheling was not a hero. While yet a child King Canute banished him, And thus he ever lived a foreign man, Until, advanced in years, our king recalled, And purposed making him the kingdom's heir: A purpose thwarted by the King of kings, That England's ruler, when Saint Edward dies, May be a hero and true Englishman, To guard the soil, and drive the Norman forth, A Saxon monarch though not Cerdic's line. < MOLLO. Amen to that, all Saxon England cries, Ealdorman, thane, the ceorl, even the slave And I, a gleeman. SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 15 Enter SEXWULF, who bows awkwardly to GUTHLAC. GUTHLAC. Wherefore come you here ? SEXWULF. Most noble Sir, it is to see the Earl. MOLLO, bowing very low. Rest you well, fair Sir. SEXWULF, bowing stiffly. And you. (Aside.} It is a gleeman. MOLLO. Great Guthlac, you are king unto this Sir ; Lo ! how he scorns the gleeman ! all unmindful That poesy hath power to lift a minstrel Up to the level of a line of kings. GUTHLAC. Or folly hath. (To SEXWULF.) Know you, Sir Knave, the Earl Grants not his audience to every theow. 1 6 T/te Sons of Godwin, [ACT i. SEXWULF. Most noble Sir, I pray you give me leave SEXWULF comes close to GUTHLAC, shows him a letter secretly, and whispers. Greeting from Lady Edith to Earl Harold. GUTHLAC (aside). A most rude envoy from a .most fair lady. MOLLO. Are you indeed an Earl in low disguise, That noble Guthlac listens to your whisper ? GUTHLAC. Beware, Sir Gleeman ! with the Earl you trifle, Daring to trifle with his messenger. MOLLO, bowing to SEXWULF. I humbly bow to Greatness in disguise. GUTHLAC. Follow me, theow ; Earl Gurth is with my Lord, And by-and-by you shall have audience. Exeunt, MOLLO still bowing with mock solemnity to SEXWULF. SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. SCENE II. LONDON. An apartment in the house of EARL HAROLD. A table with papers, maps, plans, etc. EARL HAROLD and EARL GURTH. GURTH. It seems but yesterday, though five months past, When, with the honors due his high descent, We welcomed home this son of Ironside. With eager eyes I scanned his features o'er, The face of him who might be England's king, To mark if Nature's kingly stamp were there. I looked in vain for aught of majesty ; A weak, pale, anxious, sad, dejected face. I heard his querulous voice impatient ask, , How long the ceremonial of reception And all the tedious formularies would last ; He came not like a monarch to his realm, But as a sick man to a hospital ; Then well I knew that narrow brow too weak To hold the dignity of England's crown ; Beneath such feeble rule as his had been, England's broad bosom had been torn with broils; B 2* 1 8 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. Nor even Harold's steadfast arm and brain Kept the weak sceptre of such languid king From trailing in the dust. His timely death, Clearing the pathway for a better king, Will save the realm much ruinous disorder, Although for England fails great Cerdic's line. HAROLD. His son yet lives, the heir to England's throne. GURTH. Edgar the ^Etheling is but a boy, Too young and much too feeble in his mind To bear the burden of our island-crown. HAROLD. Yet he is heir by lineal descent. i GURTH. Nay, Harold, not alone by lineage Do England's kings possess the regal crown ; Fitness to rule, the people's confidence, Choice in the council of the ealdormen, Concurring, give a ruler to the state. Edward the Elder, dying, left two sons, Edmund and Edred, both legitimate ; SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 19 Yet, by a choice in the witena-gemot given, The bastard ^Ethelstan received the crown : He was succeeded by his lawful heir ; But after Edmund, Edred was the king, Passing the claims of Edwin, Edmund's son. HAROLD. 'Tis true that custom hath passed by such heirs, And England's ealdormen can make a king. GURTH. Brother, the king grows weaker, mind and hand ; Day after day his vital force is sapped ; Nor all the relics of the blessed saints, Gathered from far and near at England's cost By our saint-king, can work the miracle To far prolong his life : and England sees The end approaching of this monarch's reign ; The end approaching of this kingly line ; And rests content : nor dreads the Norman Duke, Nor fears the war-ships of the Danish king And why content ? Because the people look To you, my brother, at King Edward's death To hold secure and firm the English state. Our present monarch is a thing of form ; All are content to yield him majesty, 20 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. But look to you when England needs a king For the strong arm to battle with her foes, The prudent head to frame fit policy* HAROLD. If I might better serve ray native land By placing on this young boy's brow the crown, As our wise father crowned the present king, No vain ambition would prevent, nor lust Of royal state make me usurp his place. GURTH, The choice is not with you ; the ealdormen Will never crown this youthful ^Etheling. The realm of England shall it be a pawn To play and lose for such a king as he ; A child to play it too ? At Edward's death To you must come the proffer of the crown ; The Saxons know you as the wisest son Of great Earl Godwin ; Danes remember you Descended through our mother from a line Of Danish sea-kings; Saxons, Danes, alike Throughout all England, see no other chief Than Harold, skilled to lead by land or sea, Whose arms adventurous ne'er have known defeat : SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 21 No Englishman like him, dear to the hearts Of all, thane-born or lowly ceorl. HAROLD. O Gurth, I never felt our father's death as now. Would he were still alive to wear this crown ! How proudly we, his sons, would stand by him, Buttress his throne with faithful hearts and hands, Making fair England the most prosperous land Beneath the sky ! His careful policy, Our arms victorious, borne by fame abroad, Had scared invasion from our guarded shores. GURTH. Harold, our father lives again in you ; You have his wisdom, valor, and inherit All the renown they yielded in his life ; You have beyond our father England's love, And, as he had the duty of his sons, You have the constant love and faithful service Of Gurth and Leofwine, although, alas ! Little they bring you but devoted love. HAROLD. Never had man two wiser, braver brothers, 22 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. Dear Gurth, than you and Leofwine. Alone I could not hope, as now, to make safe way In camp and court through all impediment. Certain, amid the slippery faiths of men, That two are sure, I have a triple strength. GURTH. Our hearts and acts are yours ; you are the head, And we the limbs, the servants of its will. You will be king ; our father, ere he died, Foresaw the English crown upon your head, And bade your brothers be leal men to you, Head of our house and of the English realm. Our banished Sweyn is lost to you and England ; Wolnoth, a hostage with the Norman Duke ; Tostig, an erring slave of his own passions ; But Leofwine is true, and Gurth is leal. HAROLD. My faithful Gurth ! but naming Sweyn and Tostig Calls up a sorrow heavy in my heart ; Sweyn "s fate is sealed ; an irrevocable shame, Alas ! blots out his name ; Tostig, I fear, Will err as rashly, and as sadly fall : He has no thought for England, all for self; His earldom but the means to gratify t SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 23 Passion, self-glory, a licentious will That grasps at all. Pray Heaven it send to him A better angel to defeat the fiends That battle for his soul ! GURTH. Our brother Wolnoth, long detained at Rouen Against the king's request and frequent message, Is his fond mother's grief; with tearful eyes She questions every Norman messenger For news of him. May we not find the means To win her darling back to her once more ? HAROLD. Wolnoth at Rouen holds anomalous place. As hostage for his father's plighted faith With our King Edward, sent to Normandy Because Earl Godwin was all-powerful here, And Norman William, Edward's friend and cousin, Our father's death should have set free his pledge; But William's policy retains him still, In guise of friendship, but in fact a check Upon his kinsmen, none the less a hostage Because he seems a favorite of the Duke, And held in silken bonds. 24 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. Enter GUTHLAC, ushering the LADY GYTHA. GUTHLAC. The Lady Gytha. Exit GUTHLAC. HAROLD. My mother GURTH. My dear mother GYTHA. Harold, my son, Pride of our house. GURTH. And what am I, dear mother? GYTHA. No less than Harold your fond mother's pride. HAROLD. But your attendants, mother, where are they ; A sea-king's daughter goes not unattended ? GYTHA. I bade them wait me in the antechamber. SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 25 HAROLD. Pray, mother, sit. GYTHA. Nay, Harold, not as guest, but suppliant, I come to you. Oh, see me on my knees. HAROLD, raising GYTHA. My mother, rise ; nor kneel unto your son, Whose place is at your feet, not you at his. GYTHA. Harold, my widowed heart is full of grief. No English mother hath such sons as mine, Then why should I be sad ? Your glory, Harold, Is dear to me as was your father's fame ; Above all Englishmen my Harold towers, And soon, I know, his head will wear a crown ; Gurth, Leofwine and Tostig all are earls ; But Wolnoth, ah ! is exiled from his land And from his mother's arms. O Harold, Gurth, I think of you, and swells my heart with pride, Of Wolnoth, and my pride is drowned in tears; Why are you placed so high, and he exiled ? B 3 26 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. HAROLD. Mother, you know how oft at my request The king hath sent to call my brother back. GYTHA. Harold, in England what you will is law, The monk-king's sceptre but a gilded toy ; Had you your mother's heart you would reclaim, Despite refusal, my long-exiled son, Thus held from his ancestral place and honors, From home and arms of fond, maternal love. His father's death should have set free my boy. Hath he no brothers, that he pines in chains ? Or is a Norman Duke too high to question ? GURTH. Mother, the Duke in Normandy is king, And Wolnoth wears no chains. GYTHA. Gurth, iron gyves May gall the limbs, but fettered liberty Chafes inwardly. Wolnoth may wear the smile That lighted up the face of Sparta's boy When the fox ate his heart. My friendless son ! SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 27 Thus would your mother act were she Earl Harold : Send the war-arro\vs over all the land, Launch the long war-ships, cross the narrow seas, And rouse Duke William in his Norman court With the bold music of your sea-king sires. HAROLD. Now speaks the fiery blood of bearded jarls ; Mother, you are true daughter of the Dane. GYTHA. O Harold, I have waited year on year And bade my heart be still, for he would come, At last would come unto my longing arms ; But the years pass, and yet he doth not come, And still I strive to wait most patiently, Till patience dies within my aching heart; And now I come to ask my kingly son To give his mother back her exiled son. My Harold, you are wise ; o'er all the land Your wisdom and your valor are the shield, And England sleeps secure beneath its aegis. The wretched ceorl seeks from you redress Of wrong or scath ; your wisdom and your power Pluck down oppression, give him back his own ; Your mother seeks redress for a great wrong : 28 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT I. Her child is kept from her maternal breast. Shall the base peasant have your ready aid, And not your mother? Give me Wolnoth, Harold ; She asks you this who gave to you your life, And, with your life, your wisdom and your valor. HAROLD. My mother, all I am and have is yours ; To win back Wolnoth I would give my life. GYTHA. Ah no, son Harold ! though my bosom aches To clasp to it my youngest child again, Yet never let me see my darling more Sooner than purchase him by loss of you. What I would have you do, is trust no more To the vain hope that Edward's messengers Can bring your brother to us ; you must act : How, your own wisdom is the safest guide, Nor dare I offer counsel. Harold, promise That this one thought, how to restore my son, Shall have precedence of all other matter And promptest execution in your acts. HAROLD. I promise it, my mother ; and a project, SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 29 Often revolved and weighed within my mind, Shall speedily set forward : I will go, Not with my war-ships, but as peaceful guest, And bring our Wolnoth from the Norman court. GURTH. You go to Normandy as William's guest ! I see not in this plan the wise foresight Of shrewd Earl Godwin's son. GYTHA. Placing yourself Unhostaged in the power of this bold Norman Will lose me both my sons. HAROLD. I think not so; What would Duke William gain, retaining me? I am too great to keep me as a hostage, And he hath two already ; nor my death Would bring advantage to him ; I may win His friendship, make alliance with his power. Truly he hath the fame of courtesy, And knightly honor is his darling theme, Nor hath he object, nor could find excuse, To stay or injure a confiding guest. 30 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. GURTH. A firm alliance of our house with William Hath show of wisdom in it; but 'tis bold To test an untried magnanimity. GYTHA. I trust your wisdom, for you are not rash ; I trust your promise, for I know you, true ; And I shall have my Wolnoth. HAROLD. Nay, my mother ; The fate of man is in the womb of .Time, And rash is he who dares to say I will But the best efforts of my mind and hands I promise you, to win my brother back, Nor shall I now be idle. GYTHA. Thanks, dear son. Gurth, come with me. Am I not like a queen When I have earls that kindly wait on me ? HAROLD. Your blessing, mother. (Kneels.} SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 31 GYTHA. Angels shield you, son, To build yet higher your great father's house ; To be the mighty warden of the land And give you happiness. HAROLD. Farewell, my mother, Nor ever think me lukewarm in your cause. Exeunt GYTHA and GURTH. The Norman Duke hath gathered at his court Learning and arts, the progress of the world ; Whatever may be culled out of the past, Or wrought by patient labor in the present. In untrained nature slumber inert powers, Waiting the hand of genius to bring forth Their latent might ; or, lacking that, they grow In the warm light of fair prosperity As young plants grow. One larger mind, advanced Beyond the rest, may bring their progress on As cultivation makes of languishing plants A fruitful harvest. Rumor fills my ears, With every south wind, how Duke William builds Stronger his state ; how artisan and soldier, The troubadour with spirit-stirring songs, 32 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT I. The scholar with his rolls of parchment lore, All find a welcome at his court, and each A patient pupil in this famous Duke ; While all their several arts he welds together Into new forms of power to strengthen him. The Pyrrhic phalanx and the Roman legion Afford him studies ; to their art he adds New forms of discipline, till joined as one, And animate with but a single thought, His army moves ; the single thought his own. His skillful artisans have fashioned arms With curious craft, and practice betters them. What have we here to match him, if perchance He deems his cousinship deserves a throne ? Our Englishmen have courage, little skill, No patient training in the arts of war ; We fight as fought our sires of long ago, With the same weapons and rude forms of war. The Roman crushed the Briton, brave as he, By force of discipline and better arms ; Our Saxon fathers won this English soil Because more practiced and inured to war Than peaceful villagers grown dull by sloth ; And now the Norman, trained in martial skill, May overmatch the stronger Englishman If England slothful sleeps. Valor and strength SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 33 Will arm the Saxon hero's hand in vain If he must fight at every disadvantage And fall by strategy. Valor and strength Are simply brutal parts ; the lion claims His kingly share of these, but yields to man His savage life when the sharp javelin Or flying arrow pierces his great heart, And intellect is victor over strength. Duke William's power is brain. To Normandy, Thus called, I must perforce adventure me ; See all the wonders bruited over seas ; Study the master-spirit of the land ; Win him, if possible, for England's friend : Or, failing this, returned again with Wolnoth, Train English armies into Norman skill. Exit. B* 34 The Sons of Godivin. [ACT I. SCENE III. LONDON. The house of the LADY EDITH. Enter EDITH and EARL HAROLD. EDITH. My Lord, I thank you for remembering Our distant kinship, thus at once to answer My hasty message. HAROLD. Do not say our kinship Edith, it is remembrance of our kinship, Although that kindred be a distant one, And cousinship .through two removes of blood, That ever haunts me, shining in your eyes, Staying the words unuttered on my lips. EDITH. ,My Lord, you speak impatiently and strange. HAROLD. Say not "My Lord," but, as of old time, "Harold." SCENE in.] The Sons of Godivin. 35 EDITH. You have become so mighty now, an earl, And highest in the land ; I scarcely dare Remember how we were such friends of old That then 'twas Cousin Harold. HAROLD. Harold ever Let me remain unchanged in your remembrance, As in delightful days of merry youth, When our blithe hearts knew not that in this life Shadows might come between us and our joys. EDITH. When I recall those pleasures, Cousin Harold, And the companionship of those old days, How gently and how nobly you would share My girlish fancies, I am proud indeed England hath set you in such high estate. HAROLD. Still "cousin cousin;" Edith, I hate the word ! EDITH. Hate the relationship that makes me proud ? 36 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. HAROLD. Edith, I love you as a wife, not cousin, And the church bans and interdicts such marriage. I long have struggled to repress my love, And closely shut my lips when my wild words Would have poured out the passion of my heart, Because such love might be a thing accursed By mitred prelates of our scrupulous church; But in my heart the passion hath so grown That I am powerless to restrain its floods, And needs must tell you, Edith, of my love. "Pis not unholy, such true love as mine, However frowns on it the holy church ; For the church grants indulgencies ofttimes By which such interdiction is removed : On the which hope I rest my happiness, Although King Edward, in his pious zeal, May long withhold consent that we may wed. I had resolved my love should be untold Until such time as brighter promise dawned ; But now, departing from you and from England, My heart breaks thus the silence of my lips. EDITH. Departing ! Why and whither do you go? SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 37 HAROLD. To Normandy. My foremost purpose is To claim the hostages my father gave So long ago, his pledge of faith to Edward. I go as guest to Norman William's court ; And though I think my visit brings no peril, Yet many anxious cares oppress my breast, Not cares for self, but for the realm of England ; While o'er my mind float strange, foreboding thoughts And vague presentiments of coming evil. Thus, with my heart o'erclouded, I have dared To utter, Edith, words so long repressed, To tell the hopes I cherish. If your love, Pledged to my heart, can go, my heart's companion, With me from England, I shall go all blithely, Ready to grapple the worst forms of evil That can arise to menace me or England ; And the clouds moving darkly o'er my mind Will be o'erspanned by Love's bright rainbow-arch. Edith, your answer; is my hope in vain? EDITH. Nay, not in vain. HAROLD. So I have dared believe ; For love is watchful of the smallest things, 4 38 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. And finds a language in each look and smile, Motion and act; the pensive, downcast eye, The ringing laugh, are words that may be read By harmless sorcery of anxious love A cipher-language, telling of the heart, How its pulsations beat, while joy or pain Writes its quick legend on the changeful brow. EDITH. I did not know my heart had been thus read, But since its childhood it has beat for you ; And while you grew to greater fame and honor, It still kept pace, and loved you more and more ; Not for your glory or illustrious name, Both dear to me, nor that your kingly heart And intellect, expressed in generous acts, Have set you o'er our people; this would be Fit cause for admiration and respect, Not for such love as mine. My childhood's friend, Whose gentle hand gave ever-ready help, Whose thoughtful eyes looked heartfelt sympathies, Is dearest memory. That holy church Should place the cross between your heart and mine, Was never in my thought. If barred from you By ban and interdiction, all my heart Is yours, and my most fervent prayers arise Daily to heaven to give you happy fortune. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 39 HAROLD. No fortune happy if it give not you I cannot say my heart is yours alone ; Edith, my heart is plighted from my youth To England ; but no less its wealth of love For you that England shares with you its love. EDITH. And I might love you less if less your love And grand devotion to your native land ; Throughout our country, when I look around, Earls, chiefs, and thanes are struggling each for self, All for aggrandizement of wealth or power. Alone. of all, I see you still intent On England's good, while even your father's sons Are not like you, dear Harold, thus inspired. Your brother Tostig I am grieved to cast A shadow on you when I should bring cheer HAROLD. Speak, Edith ; past experience hath schooled me To hear ill news of misdirected Tostig. EDITH. Do you remember Cuthbert, Gunna's son ? 40 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. Gunna, my Danish nurse, who filled my mind, In infancy, with all her wondrous lore Of fierce exploits of jarl and viking wild, The frightful terrors of the weird wolf-witch, The dread scin-laeca over warriors' tombs Cuthbert was long ago your playmate too ; Do you remember him ? HAROLD. Yes, Edith, well ; Those pleasant years are stamped indelible Upon my heart in happy memories. If I can serve your Cuthbert, serving you In this, I serve myself as well as you. EDITH. Our Cuthbert served Northumbria's great Earl, Old famous Siward, whom your brother, Tostig, Succeeded in his earldom. Cuthbert loves A virtuous lady of your brother's court, Elgiva, in attendance on the Countess, Betrothed to Cuthbert, though of higher birth. Your brother, envying poor Cuthbert's favor, Where, it is said, his lawless fancy fell, Taunted my foster-brother with his birth Until he drove him to some sharp reply, SCENE IIL] The Sons of Godwin. 41 Then banished him his court. He sent to me, His letter brought by Sexwulf, a rude theow, Asking my intercession with Earl Harold, To whom all England looks for equity, To cure his sad, his most disastrous fortunes, Too desperate, I fear, for a safe cure, For, when I questioned this rude Sexwulf further, I learned Earl Tostig's men were full in chase, Hunting my foster-brother to his death. HAROLD. This is bad news, and comes perhaps too late. My messenger shall go at once to Tostig, And I will send a troop in search of Cuthbert; If he yet live, my friendship shall be his, To smooth, if possible, his path of love, And give him his betrothed. EDITH. So ever speaks Your generous, kingly heart. But do not stay; A single moment may lose Cuthbert's life I must not stop you even with my thanks. Enter an attendant. ATTENDANT. A gentleman seeks audience of the Earl With message from the king. 4* 42 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT i. HAROLD. Who is it? ATTENDANT. Guthlac. HAROLD. I'll see him presently. Exit attendant. My trustiest thane Is Guthlac, and some urgent business calls That thus he seeks me here. Dear Edith, thanks, My full heart's thanks, that you have cheered my heart With your bright sun of love. Whatever fate Hath in abeyance for me, fair or foul, Still greater honors or the loss of all, My one great happiness must be your love. If the near future hath for me a crown, Which an ambitious eye would surely see, My proudest hour will be when England hails My Edith as her queen. Farewell. Harold kisses Edith's hand, and exit. EDITH. The one great hope, the fond, the darling dream Of all my life at length is realized ; For Harold loves me. Exit. ACT ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 43 ACT II. SCENE L LONDON. An antechamber in the house of EARL HAROLD. Table, chairs, and bench. MOLLO and OSBALD. SEXWULF asleep on bench. MOLLO. I pray you sit, and tell me more at length By what strange chance Thane Gamel hath been slain By Tostig's men ; for so I caught the news From Guthlac's words ; and, if you love good ale, Our cellarer shall send us here a brewage Fit for a king. Ho, Eric ! Enter a servant. Bring us ale. Exit servant. OSBALD, sitting. Minstrel, in truth I am most sadly tired : Two days and nights have brought no restful sleep, 44 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. But terror, anxious thought and weary travel The last twelve hours in saddle without rest This tires a man. I'll try your vaunted ale ; In Nottingham we have a famous brewage. MOLLO. Not like the ale of Kent. Their London ale I will not boast of; but our Kentish ale, Sweet, nut-brown ale, crowned like the king with pearl, And frothy as his butler. Ah ! my friend, If Jove had tasted it, he had upset His bowls of nectar, and sent Ganymede To fetch him ale. See yonder northern theow, That slumbers on the bench j he found it good. OSBALD. Of Nottingham is he? MOLLO. Sexwulf his name ; He brought Earl Harold news out of the north, And, as I think, owes service thereabout, In Mercia, Nottingham I cannot tell. I thought to loose his sluggish tongue with ale, Our Kentish ale ; he gaped and swallowed it As thirsty horse drinks water, but his tongue SCENE i.] The Sons of Godivin. 45 Would only say the ale was very good \ The stupid swine would tell me nothing more, And soon fell fast asleep. Enter servant with ale in a jug, which MOLLO pours and presents to OSBALD. Exit servant. Try this, my friend, And never drink your northern brewage more, But sigh regretful for the ale of Kent. OSBALD drinks. 'Tis good (drinks'). The ale is good (drinks). Yes, very good. MOLLO. 'Tis what that sleeper said before he slept ; I trust the ale will not so tie your tongue . But that you can deliver me the news For which you sacrificed your two nights' sleep, And took this long, and doubtless weary, ride. OSBALD. Weary indeed ! Right glad am I 'tis over ; I safely housed, and drinking this good ale (drinks'). MOLLO. "Good ale," is still what sleepy Sexwulf cried. 46 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT 11. OSBALD. Well, you shall have my story. 'Twas after midnight; The household hushed in slumber most profound MOLLO. What house, my friend ? OSBALD. Our house, Thane Camel's house In Nottingham, near Sherwood. All asleep ; When on the stillness broke the tramp of feet, A horse's hoofs. It stops ; then comes a knocking Upon the great hall-door, locked for the night, And fastened with a bar. This roused up all. I know not how I scrambled to the hall, But there were all the servants in alarm, Not dressed, but each with pike, boar-spear, or axe, Caught up in hurry to defend the house ; And there was our young thane, with his great sword Naked in both his hands, but in his night-gown Like all the rest ; and still the noisy knocking Hammered impatiently upon the door. Some from the upper windows tried to look Into the court below ; but all was darkness Under the shadow of the eastern wall. SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 47 Then Gamel gripped his sword, and stood in front, And bade us draw the bar. Those perched above At the hall-windows shouted, "Keep the door!" But Gamel, thinking that they cried in fear, Bade us in haste to loose and swing it back ; So, drawing bolt and bar, we opened it : When, from the darkness, sprang into the light A man all travel-stained ; on whose pale face Was terror's frightful stamp. We knew the man; 'Twas Cuthbert, a Northumbrian, who came Sometimes to see our thane. SEXWULF, who has awakened, listens very at- tentively. He seized the door As if to swing it back, but was too late ; A throng of men, all armed, came pouring in Earl Tostig's men ; I knew them by their badge, A silver war-ship. Cuthbert rushed to Gamel, Crying, " They come to kill me ; Gamel> help 1" Our fearless thane, though thus surprised, stood fast, Swung his great sword above his head, and cried, "Back back, Northumbrians; by my father's soul Ye shall not have this man 1" But on they came, And we were only twenty to a hundred, Naked and scarcely armed. A flash of swords ; Down went the foremost under Camel's stroke, 48 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT 11. But ere his arm could thrice repeat the blow The hundred were upon him, and he fell ; While, fighting by his side, was Cuthbert killed. SEXWULF comes forward. SEXWULF. Was Cuthbert killed ? Art sure they killed him too ? He might be hurt and fall, but yet not killed OSBALD. I saw them hack him with a hundred wounds, Each one of which was mortal. Who are you That seem to take such interest in the man ? SEXWULF. Hacked with a hundred wounds ! Cuthbert is dead ! OSBALD. Yes, surely dead. But you are you Northumbrian ? SEXWULF. He saved my life I know not how to say it He saved the slave that others spurned in scorn ; And the slave loved him loved, as a dog loves, Who, watchful of his master's smile or frown, Takes joy or sorrow from the face he loves. SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 49 What now can Sexwulf do, but, like a dog, Die on his grave ? You said they cut and hacked him The cowards, murderers ! Theow as I am, I would have faced them, ceorl-born, thane-born, Ay, Tostig's self, with axe, or pike, or spear, Or with my naked hands, had I been there 1 MOLLO. Where did you leave him ? Came you to the Earl From this slain Cuthbert ? SEXWULF. I came from north the Humber ; came afoot ; Nor took much longer time than he on horse : I ran in hope to save him, but he's dead Dead ! dead ! I am too late ! OSBALD. No fault of yours ; You had no time to save him, if the means. MOLLO. How could you give him help ? SEXWULF. I will not talk. Exit SEXWULF. CDS 5O The Sons of Godwin. [ACT u. MOLLO. This brutish theow has so marred your story I know not yet how it hath chanced to you To come so quickly here. OSBALD. The slave is rude ; But, faith ! I cannot choose but pity him. When I saw Gamel slain, in fear I fled ; 'Twas death to stay. Through a side-door I passed ; Ran through the house, familiar with the way, And gained the stable, saddled a swift horse, And rode into the night ; soon left behind Death and the din of murder. As I rode, A lurid glow lit up the dismal night, Tinting the dark skies with a crimson fire ; Then, looking back, I saw long tongues of flame Curling around the gables of our house, And spurred my horse the faster. To my heart Now came wild terror, and my hair stood up ; Cold drops of sweat were gathered on my brow ; Dead Cuthbert's face, as when he crossed our door With murderers behind him, haunted me With its wild look of horror. When at last My mind grew calm, and when my heart no more Thumped at my ribs, I fixed upon my course, SCENE I.] The Sons of Godwin. 51 To seek Earl Morkar in Northamptonshire For Gamel was of kindred to the Earl And bear him tidings of this midnight murder. Morkar in silence heard me, stamped and frowned ; Then bade me take his letter to the king, Nor slack my rein lest he be there before me. MOLLO. And the king sent you with your news to Harold ? OSBALD. Unto Earl Harold, who is Tostig's brother; And so it seems not clear to me how justice Is likely to be dealt for my thane's murder By your Earl's hands Enter GUTHLAC. GUTHLAC to OSBALD. The Earl is waiting you. Exeunt GUTHLAC and OSBALD. MOLLO. This is the way Earl Tostig rules his earldom ; Hunting men down, and burning homes o' nights. More promise for the soldier than the minstrel I see in this. Heigh-ho ! This bodes of war 52 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT 11. War, to despoil me of my comforts here, Soft bed and Kentish ale. My wisest way Is to enjoy them both while yet I may. Pours a stoop of ale, and drinks. So now I'll go to bed. Exit. SCENE II. LONDON. Hall of state in the kings palace. The KING, EARLS HAROLD, TOSTIG, GURTH, and MORKAR; ALDRED, Archbishop of York; STIGAND, Archbishop of Canter- bury; GUTHLAC; thanes, guards, attendants, messen- gers, etc. FIRST MESSENGER. Your Majesty, Britwald, the ealdorman of Exeter, True and leal servant unto England's king, Sends to his king for aid. The pirate Rhud, Round Cornwall sailing from the Irish seas, With thirty long-ships hath besieged your town ; Threatening, unless a thousand pounds be paid, His war-gild, to break down the city gates, SCENE ii.] T/IA Sons of Godwin, 51 To seize its treasures as the spoils of war, And set your servant's head upon a pike. KING. Earl Harold, how is this ? Two summers since You swept these Irish pirates from the seas. Who is this Rhud that dares besiege our town ? HAROLD. My liege, these hornets swarm along the coasts Of Ireland, Hebrides, and stormy Orkneys ; No broom can sweep them clean ; among the isles And thousand inlets of the Irish seas They hide them, till some howling northern blast May bring their swift ships to an English town : From which they fly, oft laden with much spoil, Ere we have time to strike a blow at them. KING. What may we do ? Shall we send out our ships And raise the siege ? It surely is not wise To pay these pirates war-gild. HAROLD. Nay, my liege ; No money shall the bold forayers have. 5* 54 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT u. Four days ago a message came to me From the far north of this King Rhud's intent ; And instant Leofwine, my brother, sailed With forty war-ships out of Medway frith ; Before whose keels the pirates have been driven Back to their wild and stormy seas again, Or King Rhud's head is set upon a pike. KING. My careful Harold 1 England's weal is safe Through the king's prayers and Harold's ready arm. To Messenger. The aid you ask for is already -sent ; Go back and tell brave Britwald, England's arm Is ever ready to protect our realm. Exit Messenger. Who is the second messenger that waits ? SECOND MESSENGER. Your Majesty, I come from Sandwich's port, Sent to the king by many citizens Desiring that their sea-walls, greatly rent By the late storms, be speedily repaired And pqt in fit condition of defense. SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 55 Two weeks in London have I waited audience, The while our walls are useless and o'erthrown ; And had this Rhud sailed down the coast so far He would have found our town without defense. KING. Harold, what answer shall we send to Sandwich ? To build up sea-walls empties treasure-chests. Our steward tells us that there is no money ; He scarce could pay for that most precious relic, Saint Peter's thumb. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. My liege, a blessed relic ; And safer guardian of our island shores Than walls or war-ships ! HAROLD. Doth your Reverence mean, I might have saved my brother and his ships, Sending a priest with Peter's thumb to Rhud? ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. The blessed relic would have scared the heathen. 56 The Sans of Godwin. [ACT n. HAROLD. Perhaps ; but Leofwine is sure to do it. KING. Harold, I grieve to hear such doubts from one Whose life hath ever shown a noble mind. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED to HAROLD. More reverence unto holy church, my son, Were more becoming to your high estate. KING. The messenger awaits an answer, Harold, Concerning Sandwich and its broken walls. HAROLD to Messenger. Your town itself should have rebuilt its walls. Why do the lazy citizens thus wait, And leave themselves defenseless ? It were well King Rhud had paid his visit to your town, A lesson that you need. Return to Sandwich, And tell the citizens that sent you hither, A graceless envoy from a slothful town, Unless their walls are up within three months The king will levy a sufficient tax SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 57 On Sandwich to build up a mighty sea-wall, Whose solid masonry will laugh at storms. Begone ; and learn to wear more modest bearing In presence of your king. To attendants. Take him away. Exeunt attendants with messenger. MORKAR. My liege, I come before your throne to plead For justice simple justice. Yours the rule From Cornwall to the Tweed, and England owes Unto your throne and crown its true allegiance ; But what owe you to England as its king ? You owe to all that life, goods, house and land, The rights of ceorl, thane and ealdorman, Shall be secure ; nor torn away by force, By robber force, though wielded by an earl. Lo ! here before your throne I take my stand ; Claim from the king an Englishman's broad rights : My cousin Gamel hath been basely murdered ; His dwelling broken at the dead of night ; His servants slain ; his house and goods despoiled, And given up to fierce devouring flames, By one who comes before your throne to-day c* 58 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. Wearing the emblems of a belted earl. I ask for justice. Though his kindred stand Highest around your throne, the laws of England Require that punishment be dealt to crime. I here demand the king shall take his earldom From Tostig Godwinson, and that a witan Sit on his acts. If he be proven guiltless, Then let him in Northumbria rule again ; If guilty, and his guilt is manifest, He is not fit to live on English soil. TOSTIG. And who are you the censor of the realm To say this earl shall rule, and this shall not? What service unto England have you done ? When the Welsh king rebelled against our liege You fought on Gryffyth's side : but pardoned this By clemency too lenient for such crime, Yet still a traitor in your secret heart, You would incite the king against his friends, Whose swords cut off the head of your rebellion, Because, forsooth, your cousin, harboring rebels, Received the punishment was due to one. MORKAR. You taunt and fling at me a rebel's name ; SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 59 This thing is past. Would you recall the past ? There is a legend current in the land That once upon a time, my ancestor Then Earl of Mercia, your much-boasted line Sprang from a low-born cowherd. TOSTIG. It is false False as your lying lips. My ancestor, Brave Wulfnoth, was a nephew to the king ; And, though his youth was nursed in peasant's hut, Proved his great ancestry by valiant acts Worthy his lineage ; and achieved a name, "The Childe of Sussex," sung throughout the land By minstrel lips to ears attuned to glory. Your legend is most false. MORKAR. These boasts are naught. I claim your punishment for lawless acts. KING. Earl Tostig, what have you to answer us Upon this charge of outrage, midnight burning, Murder ? TOSTIG. My liege, in hot pursuit of one 60 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT 11. Escaping justice, my officer and men Came in the night through Sherwood's forest paths To Nottingham ; here, when they closed upon him, The quarry won a refuge in the house Of Gamel, son of Orm. Against my men Gamel opposed his household ; in the tumult The thane was killed, but not before he slew Three of my men j for this they burned his house. KING. But Nottingham's in Mercia : wherefore, Earl, Did you pursue the man beyond your earldom ? TOSTIG. In the long chase across a country wide, Who stops at night to mark dividing lines And say " Here ends dominion of my Lord" ? I bade them take the man alive or dead ; And who was Gamel, that his hand should dare To check the purpose of Northumbria's Earl? KING. Who was this criminal so fiercely sought ? A traitor to our crown ? assassin ? thief? Surely his crimes had been of blackest dye, Thus hunted down at night by your armed men ? SCENE IL] The Sons of Godwin. 6l TOSTIG. And must an earl, allied to kings, bow down Like a poor theow, and explain each act Of justice done by him within his earldom ? The man was judged by me, his legal lord Judged, doomed, and had been executed too Although he fled unto the farthest Orkney. KING. Storm not at us, Sir Earl ; we know the story : How you oppressed and injured this poor man Because he murmured that you took his mate. Oh, fie on you, a Christian earl, to steal, And slay the victim to atone the theft ! TOSTIG. Steals then the lion when in forests dark He leaps upon his prey? or steals the eagle When from his dizzy height he swiftly swoops On frightened dove ? No, King ; these do not steal. They take by lordly power and right of might. So, like a lion mid the beasts of field, An eagle 'mong the birds, Earl Tostig rules With men ; and Nature gave him his fierce heart, Strong arm and dauntless courage, as it gave Tooth to the lion, talon to the eagle. 6 62 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. I steal, indeed ! By Hengist ! if an earl, A Saxon earl, have not so much of power To rule his household, but must bend him low, And answer every act to every neighbor Who hath a cousin, you may give, O King, Northumbria's earldom to this Morkar here, This little earlling who is brave in talk ; And I will launch my war-ships, as of old My fathers did; and, like the Childe of Sussex, Mine ancestor, will reap my harvests where Pale, trembling slaves are held in Law's base leash ; Myself a sea-king, and beyond all law. KING. Not by the Saxon chief on whom you call In your vain arrogance, you bold, bad man ; But by the holy and the blessed saints We swear that we would take you at your word, Did we consider you alone in this ; And deem the land, thus purged of feverish heat, More fit abode for men ! HAROLD. My gracious liege, My brother's sword hath ever fenced your throne j SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 63 Let this his service in the past plead now, When, in the heat of passion, he hath erred. His hasty words he will in penitence Retract, and bow unto deserved reproof; Before the witan will he plead his cause In all the circumstance of Camel's death. Let not his angry words be filed against him. TOSTIG. Thanks, prudent brother; who would shape your course With nice diplomacy through crooked ways ! What are a brother's claims or kindred ties To him whose wisdom brothers every one ? I will not plead my cause before the witan ; I am an earl, and in my veins the blood Of warrior kings. The thing I did, I stand to; It was a right pertaining to my earldom. Let thanes in witan try the acts of thanes ; I am above their law ; I laugh at them. HAROLD. Peace, Tostig ; you are so inflamed with wrath That anger smothers reason. Leave with me The vindication of this act, and I will plead Your cause unto the king and to the witan. 64 The Sons of Godivin. [ACT n. TOSTIG. My cause with you, unnatural brother ! No ! Draws his sword and advances toward HAROLD, but is held back by GUTHLAC and the guards, who interpose between them and surround TOSTIG. If I must choose a champion for my right, Svend, King of Denmark, or my Norman brother Shall stand for me. How like you these, my lords ? To the KING while sheathing his sword. Nay, do not fear me, sainted Majesty ; I will not break your guard. KING. Take him away A berserker ! a firebrand ! He is possessed. The guards look to HAROLD who hesitates, then waves his hand sadly, and TOSTIG is led off. Alas, such strife is mortal to this land ! Lo ! a prophetic vision comes to me : Discord is sitting on this island throne With frenzy in her eyes ; her hands upraised Urge on tumultuous war ; the affrighted land Trembles to hear the din. I will not see it ; It terrifies my soul. Upon my knees, O England, I have prayed to all the saints SCENE IL] The Sons of Godwin. 65 For your prosperity, but yet in vain ; The portents in my heart foreshadow woe 1 MORKAR. Much woe must England suffer if, O King, Such earls as this shall rule within her realm. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. My liege, Earl Godwin was my youth's best friend, And deep the debt of gratitude I owe Which I would pay his sons ; yet larger still The debt I owe my country. Not in haste I counsel should Earl Tostig's acts be judged, But with the ripest wisdom. In our land Two powers build up the state : the power of God, Its exponent the holy church, and law, Its exponent the king. By law the king Hath rights executive, as hath each earl And every ealdorman ; the meanest ceorl Hath yet his rights, as firmly built on law As are the king's. Allow these laws to fail As they pertain to ceorl, earl or king, And all the body of our state is threatened With overthrow. This do I urge to show, Though Tostig's office give prescriptive rights, It doth not give the power to fix those rights ; E 6* 66 The Sons of Godwin, [ACT n. Nor king nor earl can stand above the law As angry Tostig claims. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. In state affairs, Indeed in all affairs, or great or small, Beside the right and law, another claim Oft presses into council, which men call Expediency. Earl Tostig is allied To Norman William through his countess, Judith, And to her father, Baldwin Count of Flanders ; Then through his mother to the Danish king ; Three warlike potentates, whose enmity Might bring more evil than we seek to cure. KING. Earl Morkar, we defer to render judgment Till further counsel. May the saints bestow Such worldly wisdom as may cure this strife Of angry men ! HAROLD. My liege, I ask your leave To go, your envoy, into Normandy, And bring my kindred from Duke William's court. Your royal cousin holds unlawfully The hostages that my dead father gave, SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 67 His pledge to you ; nor heeds the messengers Sent to recall my kinsmen from his court : Me, he would heed j my visiting perhaps Draw closer ties of friendship and alliance. KING. Nay, nay, son Harold ; here you surely err, Trusting yourself in Norman William's power. God sends an ominous chill upon our heart Hearing your desperate purpose Leave the realm While thus men's passions clamor in our court, With broil and murder rife throughout the land, When none but you can quell each rising storm, No one like you support our feeble hand ? Oh, Harold, this from you ! We pardon Tostig; So you will stay with us, ask what you will : But do not threaten to desert your king. HAROLD. Your Majesty hath no more faithful servant Than Harold Godwinson will ever prove, Who will desert you never. I but go On a brief embassy to friendly court ; You scarce shall miss me ere I will return ; During my absence Gurth and Leofwine Shall be to you as Harold. 68 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT u. KING. Though I know well, Son Harold, that your worldly wisdom looks Beyond the sight and reach of other men, I apprehend some peril to our land Lurking behind this purpose, hid from you, But darkly shadowed in my prophet-heart. I cannot make you stay ; but if you go, O holy saints ! absolve me from the sin, And spare my eyes the misery to see The monstrous ills, whose huge impending shade Falls darkly at my feet. (Rises.*) Your arm, my son, To help our feeble steps. The KING leans on HAROLD, descends from his throne, and passes out with guards, attendants, etc. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND detains ALDRED. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. Aldred, the king Grows feebler every day, and, like a child, Sees shadows in the dark : he needs the help Of some firm mind to regulate his own ; To shape and give direction to his acts. In Harold's absence we may mould the king, And higher build our holy church of God. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 69 ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Aye, for the present ; but I look beyond, And see upon the throne another king, Who may not be so friendly to our church As pious Edward, soon to be a saint. Exeunt. SCENE III. LONDON. A chamber in the Benedictine Abbey. A table with papers t pen and ink. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED seated andfLxKL MORKAR standing. MORKAR. In vain you counsel patience while I see These hungry Godwinsons devour the land. Who hold the three great earldoms? Sons of Godwin. Northumbria's Tostig's, and rich Mercia, Gurth's ; The while my father's sons, the heirs of Mercia, And Waltheof, heir of all Northumbria, Must be contented with estates of thanes. South of the Thames spreads Harold's earldom broad ; Nor this alone, although an earl in name, Harold in fact is king. Did you not mark But well I know you did how our sick king 7O The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. Speaks but the words that Harold bids him speak? Sees everything through Harold's thoughtful eyes? Reflects Earl Harold as a polished mirror Throws back a second self? This can I bear ; For Harold, though his powerful hand has grasped The richness and the glory of the land, Is ever just, and looks beyond himself To England's good. But Tostig is all greed. This demon son of Godwin, tiger-like, Feeds upon England. 'Tis a wicked fiend, That laughs alike at pity, danger, power; Mighty of valor as the Danish Odin, As Balder beautiful, but dread as Lok ! I, the hereditary prince of Mercia, Am set aside, while this fierce pirate rules ; Nor only rules, the earl of broad domains, But sends his spoilers over all the land. O father, preach not your dull virtue, patience, To one who feels his native rights abused ; To one who sees his friends and kinsmen slain, His country's laws and customs set at naught By a wild viking, whose bold, scornful laugh Derides the king, defies the hand of power ! ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Didst mark his shrewd intent when the Archbishop SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 71 Of Canterbury gave counsel to the king, How he advised this thing, expediency, To sit above our judgments ? It is true : What is our right we often must defer Because such right is barred from us by that Would cost us much to push aside ; so you, Who cannot reach at once what is your right, Must bear your wrong because expediency Stays present having. MORKAR. Patience supposes hope ; But what have I on which to build a hope ? While I must wait the wrong grows daily more ; And I shall wake to hear fierce Tostig's band Batter upon my gate ; and then my waiting, Like Gamel's, stop. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Pray tell me this, my son : Whose is the greatest name and power in England ? MORKAR. Harold's. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. And who will sit on England's throne 72 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. When sainted Edward puts aside its crown To wear the one, won by his holy life ? MORKAR. I cannot tell The power of force so rules, How can I know Tostig will not be king ? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Harold will be the king. MORKAR. What hope for me, For England, when fierce Tostig shall have scope For all his lawlessness, thus near the throne ? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Wisdom should teach you how to gain allies Whose help may safely fence you from attack Of him you fear. MORKAR. You surely mock me, father ; Allies against the powerful Godwinsons 1 No man can stand against them in this land. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. I did not say against the Godwinsons ; But Tostig only. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 73 MORKAR. That is still the same ; Will Harold cleave to me, forsake his brother? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Yes, if you are his brother. MORKAR. Show your riddle ; I have no heart or patience to be guessing ; Tell me in plainness what your meaning is. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. My son, in piamness, I would bid you wed Your sister, Aldyth, to fierce Tostig's brother. MORKAR. To Harold ? Nay ; his heart is fast enchained By the fair Swan-neck, lovely Lady Edith ; Such chains as hers are hard to break apart. Father, you counsel things impossible. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. I think not so. In Harold's royal heart, Above all other impulse and intent, D 7 74 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. Is zeal for England ; by this grander love He may be brought to yield his passionate hopes, Though in the act his generous heart be torn. Give your consent, and frame your sister to it ; My part shall be indeed a cruel one To make the Earl resign his cherished love, Mthough she be our England's fairest flower, And wed your sister. This I undertake Not all to help you, but to help our land, That needs, I fear, in troublous times to come, The strongest bonds of unity between Our diverse peoples, a true brotherhood Of Godwin's heirs and those of Leofric. MORKAR. Father, I give consent ; and I will prove, If Harold wed my sister, true to him ; So shall he sit secure on England's throne. Although a son of Godwin rules in Mercia, The heirs of Leofric rule Mercia's hearts : Thus I can bring to Harold stronger help Than seems proportioned to my present power. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. 'Tis well, and therefore I have counseled patience ; Avoid all contest with Northumbria's Earl, SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 75 For he may crush you if you drive him to it ; But in the future Mercia may be yours, Yours the broad earldom Leofric once held, If with due caution the safe track you steer, Learning the lesson : Fortune's oftener won By wise diplomacy than brutal strength. MORKAR. Father, I yield me to your larger wisdom, Keeping alight the hopes that you have kindled, And wait with patience for a better time ; Meanwhile I'll do your bidding: so farewell ! Kneels and receives the blessing of ARCHBISHOP ALDRED, then exit. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. The Welsh king's widow, Aldyth, wed to Harold, Will bring her husband a rich wedding dower, The hearts of Mercia. Wessex is his, And Kent ; all Saxon England clings to him Because his heart is Saxon. He will have Northumbria's love in right of Danish blood Transmitted through his noble mother, Gytha, From Woden's stock; so will his kingdom stand. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED sits. Oh for the power of mind that looks beyond 76 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. This creeping present into future years, Sees in the acts of men, their forms of thought, Speech, fashions, tendencies, beliefs, desires, The living letters that make up the words In which is writ the coming of the future, Of men and states, the fateful destinies ! Around me jar confusing elements, Which I would so direct that holy church, Our Saxon church of England, may increase In power to mould the hearts and acts of men To greater glory of the living God And us, his faithful servants in the church. But yet I see not clear ; I fear each act May, like a weapon in unskillful hand, Effect not benefit, but injury. The papal sceptre stretches out from Rome Over the churches with an iron rule ; The tiara changes to a golden crown, And crosiers into swords. Alas the day ! Our Saxon fashions are deemed out of date By those of Rome ; while the great cardinal, Ambitious Hildebrand, behind the pope, Waits but the moment of auspicious time To modernize our simple, Saxon church By gathering in one grasp its several powers ; Even as Guiscard or aspiring William SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 77 Would overthrow our Saxon liberties, Could either gain a foothold in the land. Walks up and down impatiently. Oh for a larger intellectual grasp, That I may utilize each circumstance, And mould the men and times into safe means To keep unaltered customs as of old, Our ancient privilege, prescriptive rights ! But while I strive to shape a wholesome scheme The thought forever haunts me that my plans May but precipitate catastrophe ; Yet I must build them, or to stand or fall, As Providence, more wise than I, ordains. I fear the Norman most, and think 'tis plain The safest way to hold this danger off Is to consolidate the power of Harold, That when he sits upon the English throne, And holds his sceptre o'er our Saxon church, That sceptre may have power still to preclude The innovations of intriguing Rome Which Norman rule would quickly fasten here ; So I have set my plans. He sits again. It is full time The Lady Edith came upon my summons ; I have determined so to place this thing 7* 78 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. Before her generous mind that her own act May break the chains enthralling Harold's heart ; Thus may I model his less plastic mind To equal sacrifice. Enter an attendant. ATTENDANT. The Lady Edith. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Bring her to me. Exit attendant. Now must I steel myself Against all soft emotion, nor consent To feel the thrills of human tenderness. Enter attendant ushering the LADY EDITH ; exit attendant. EDITH. My holy father. Edith kneels to ARCHBISHOP ALDRED, and receives his blessing. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Bless you, my fair child, Who come thus dutifully to my call ; SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 79 The young and beautiful, in full pursuit Of pleasures and the joys of opening life, Not always listen to a sober voice Calling their thoughts to higher, nobler things Than butterfly-existence. I am glad My daughter is not so in pleasures steeped As to neglect my call. EDITH. Most holy sir, Think not that pleasure only rules my heart ; For though, like all possessing youth and health, I feel the charms of beauty and sweet hope Thrill my young blood, make my quick pulses beat, And life rejoice in brightness, yet indeed I have my graver hours ; and then I know That life is not alone for idle pleasure, But for the larger hopes and destinies Of us, who play awhile among the flowers, But must at last take each the several tasks And graver duties of a serious world. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. I am much pleased, dear daughter, that your mind Reasons thus wisely in the midst of pleasures ; For now I know, when duty points the way, 8o The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. Your heart will yield desirings, wrong though sweet, And that your steps will press the better path. EDITH. What is it, father, that you ask of me ? Have I then seemed too fond of worldly pleasures, Nor given unto God and holy church Fit portion of my time ? If this be so, I take your chiding in much penitence, And, humbly craving pardon, still will strive To sin less in the future ; for in truth I have such serious yearnings and intents That I can fondly give my time to holy thoughts. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. I cannot Diame you, daughter, for the past ; Your life hath ever been a blameless one ; But now the hour is come for sober thought : Your country and our holy church require Your best assistance in a time of need. EDITH. My father, I ? And can I help my country ? Aside. O Harold, this will bring me nearer you ! SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 81 ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Even you, fair daughter ; your white hands are weak ; You cannot toil, nor fight, yet you can give Something to help your country. Think, my child : Can you consent to yield your dearest wish That thus your country may be made more happy ? EDITH. My dearest wish ! Father, what do you ask ? My heart so flutters that I cannot think You know not what may be my dearest wish. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Yes, child, I know it ; and it grieves me much There to disturb your heart's tranquillity ; But long ago I taught myself to yield Dear yearnings for the greater good of all, And know each generous act repays itself. That fondest, brightest hope of your young life Is the one sacrifice your country asks. EDITH. To give up Harold ? Oh, my father, say I have mistaken what you ask of me 1 Do not ask that : my heart to kill my heart, Killing the hope in which alone I live. D* F 82 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Dear child, when duty sadly points the way To sacrifice, the heart in agony Thinks life a desert, robbed of one bright hope, And duty odious, though the call of God. EDITH, kneeling. Father, upon my knees I pray of you Leave me this hope, so twined around my life That when its tendrils shall be torn away My pulse can never beat again one healthful throb, And I will give you all the rest beside : Ask what you will ; my fortune and my time I will devote ; my hands and brain shall toil, Oh, always faithfully, to do your work ! But spare my heart ! oh, father, spare my heart ! ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Your hands and brain can give no useful help Unto your country. By this sacrifice Of fond affection only can you prove Yourself above the selfishness that clings To some desired thing, though all the world Suffer while you indulge your selfish longings. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 83 EDITH, rising, and haughtily. Why do I kneel to you ? What right have you To bid me crush my heart and its best hopes, That some vain plan, born of your scheming brain, May thus be helped? This faithful love of mine By God implanted, nourished in my breast, Is not for priests to censure ; God alone, Who gave it, hath the right to take it from me. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. God filled your breast with love, that thus his child Might have a worthy gift of sacrifice To lay before his feet. Think not, vain one, That you alone of all God's children here Are called upon to yield to him your hopes : Thousands on thousands struggled in the past, Thousands to-day fight their rebellious hearts As you must, child. Pray God to guide you right. EDITH. Why do you choose me from a thousand others To bid me thus, in life's most pleasant bloom, Give up the brightness of the cheerful day, Enrobe myself in darkness of the tomb ? Hope's radiance quenched, there is no other light ; 84 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. Life without Harold is a dismal night. Why should my body live, and my heart dead ? Oh, father, it was only yesterday He told me that he loved me ; and to-day You ask me to give up his glorious love, Mine only for one day ! Alas ! I cannot. You ask too much of a poor, trembling child Who hath not courage for this suicide. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Listen, my daughter: in the name of duty I have required this heavy sacrifice, That thus, by yielding, you may win the glory, The martyr's glory of beneficence : Now will I add to holy duty, reason, To help you quell the longings of your heart. Earl Harold will be king; at Edward's death The witan will confer a crown on him : But will he rule ? No easy seat for him, This island throne. The Dane ; the Norman Duke ; Friends of the ^theling ; Morkar and Edwin, Grandsons of Leofric ; young Waltheof, Great Siward's heir; Hakon and Tostig fierce, His nephew and his brother ; all may claim And struggle for his throne. No hope for him, For England's peace, for God's most holy church SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 85 In England, if the new king do not hold The hearts of all his people. Ancient names Live through the change of rule, and hold the hearts Hereditary of a glory-loving race Fast in the chains of legend and of song ; Earl Harold hath no hold on Mercia : As king, he cannot hope to have its help Unless he make alliance with its lords, The heirs of Leofric. By wedding Aldyth He gains all Mercia, as her wedding gift. EDITH, Harold wed Aldyth ? O my heart, be still 1 ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Grand is the front of kingly majesty, Godlike its power ; but yet the monarch pays A cruel price to sit beside the gods As we poor priests pay for the kingly right To be God's ministers upon the earth. Out of his heart, his pitiless hand must tear Each hope whose budding whispers happiness : He lives for all, not for his single self; The love of chosen mate is not for him ; His country claims his hand to marry states, Making alliance by his marriage rites. 86 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT n. So Power, in dreary isolation, stands ; And Greatness towers above life's broken hopes. EDITH. But will Earl Harold so consent to yield Himself in purchase of this barren power ? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. He must consent, if in his generous soul The love of England lingers as of old. Not for the pride and crown of majesty, Nor even for the fame and large renown Of kingly acts, may Harold give up love ; But when his country, helpless and alarmed, Calls on the patriot for his sacrifice, Then would you have your Harold answer, "No;" Regardful only of his selfish love ? Or would you have his noble heart respond Though all its tendrils bled in sundering love? EDITH. Nay, do not ask me, father in my brain All is confusion ; and my heart is stone. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Think well of this, my child : at duty's call SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 87 Harold must cancel promised love to you, Or, placing you beside him on the throne, Feel his throne totter, and at last o'erturned, Fall in the general ruin of the state ; While England echoes everywhere the cry, "The king hath brought this ruin on his land Because he would not yield his fond desire For a fair, selfish woman." Then you may see in his sad eyes reproach ; In place of love, dread hauntings of remorse. 'Tis yours, my child, to make a nobler choice Do you give up the Earl, thus sparing him That painful, passionate struggle of the breast When Duty is compelled to drive out Love Thus will you earn the glorious recompense Of generous act, a sweet approving voice Telling of nobler life than Love's vain dream, Whose beauty fadeth while its joys are grasped \ Thus will you show your king how a pure soul Hath worth of virtue, strength of purity To choose aright the better path of life, Renouncing Love at Duty's holy call. EDITH. Father, no more no more 1 My heart is breaking ! Leave me ; and when my agony is less, 88 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT u. And thought controls again my dizzy brain, I'll give an answer if I live to give it. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Pardon me, daughter, for this cruel pain ; But Duty is the cause, and I, her servant Who grieve, but must perform a cruel part. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED extends his hands over the head of EDITH, who has fallen on her knees, Bless her, O Saints, and give her healing strength ! Exit ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. EDITH. Alas ! alas ! my broken, broken heart ! EDITH falls prostrate on the floor. ACT. in.] The Sons of Godwin. 89 ACT III. SCENE L LONDON. The house of COUNTESS GYTHA. GYTHA seated and TOSTIG standing. GYTHA. You too will leave me ! Ah, how desolate Grows day by day my hearthstone ! Wolnoth first ; Then my brave Sweyn ; your noble father next ; Then Harold ; now, my Tostig, you must go. Like blasted trunk of a storm-broken oak, I shall be left, all my proud branches gone. TOSTIG. They drive me from you, mother, from my land, And set their outlawry upon my head This witan of the ealdormen and priests And Morkar is to have Northumbria, My earldom Fools ! They should cut off my head ; And so they would, but dare not Hunt the lion To drive him from his jungle, but not dare 8* go The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. To bring the brute to bay ! Let them beware The hour he comes to hunt the huntsmen ; then Will his roaring terrify their timid hearts ! Mother, I thank you for my Danish blood ; Now, viking-like, I have no lands, no home ; Over the swan's-bath shall my long-ships drive ; A king of Ocean will the wolf's-head be A wolf s-head ! Who will take it ? Mother, mark : I will return with warriors of the North ; Our bright round shields will glisten in the sun, A shining row along each dragon's side ; Our war-songs loudly ring along these shores, And fright their witans Mother, I must go. GYTHA. My son, will you then war upon your land ? TOSTIG. Mother, I have no land : they banish me. GYTHA. You are too wild, my son ; remember Sweyn ; His wayward passions wrecked my eldest son : Curb your fierce wrath, and take the wise advice Of Harold, who will give you back again SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 91 Your former honors ; shape your life like his, And stand among the foremost of the land. TOSTIG. No, mother; in my veins the viking-blood Runs all too hot to be another Harold And smile where I would strike. Walks away impatiently, then returns and kneels to GYTHA. I kiss your hands, My mother, and I bow to you my head. Your Harold will return from Normandy To care for you ; he hath a prudent brain, He will not be a wolf s-head : but for me, I cannot stay. Yet you shall hear of Tostig. When the winds Blow their wild blasts out of the stormy north, Then listen, mother, for my battle-songs ; They shall be heard anon. Mother, farewell. In Tostig's heart, though fierce and wild it be, There's yet a tender part that throbs for thee. GYTHA, embracing TOSTIG. My son. Thou hast a sea-king's stormy soul True offspring of the Dane. Whate'er your fate, 92 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. And much my soul forebodes unhappy chance, Your mother's love will cling to you till death. Exit TOSTIG. May all the saints protect my outlawed son, My warrior son, so beautiful and brave ; More like the fabled gods of the old North, Than the tame men of this degenerate day ! Enter GURTH, and after him GUTHLAC. GURTH. My mother. GYTHA. Gurth, what news of Harold ? She sees GUTHLAC. Speak, Thane Guthlac if but brief my greeting seem, Think that a mother asks you for her sons, Waiting for news through all these weary months. GUTHLAC. Most noble lady, the Earl, your son, is come ; And I am sent before to give you news. GYTHA. Doth he bring Wolnoth? and Sweyn's boy, young Hakon ? SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin, 93 GURTH. Nay, mother; Harold's peril hath been great : To do your bidding, and bring back your son, My brother risked the glory of our house. GUTHLAC. Lady, your grandson, Hakon, comes with Harold, But Wolnoth tarries in Duke William's court ; There he hath health and friends and pleasant cheer, Nor brighter shines on Leofwine's fair brow The laughing smile, than smiles your Wolnoth's face. He sends his duty and his love to you. GYTHA. Once more must hope in disappointment sink But what the peril Harold hath endured ? GUTHLAC. First shipwreck on the coast of Ponthieu j Escaped the sea, a prisoner to Count Guy ; From thence transferred by ransom to Duke William. This placed him in the crafty Norman's power Without restraints of hospitality, On which, and courtesy, he counted much When first he purposed visiting the Duke. 94 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. GYTHA. Did not Duke William treat him as a guest, An honored guest, the equal of himself? GUTHLAC. Craft is the Norman's weapon : like a brother Duke William took him in his arms, and placed him Beside himself, upon an equal seat ; Gave sumptuous banquets, more magnificent And costly than our English monarchs have ; Amused us with rich shows, gay pageants, tilts, Keeping our Earl always beside himself; Made war on Conan, Duke of Brittany, To show the martial training of his knights : In which, a short campaign, like loving brothers, Earl Harold and Duke William fought together, Shared the same tent and table, and at night Stretched side by side, in slumber, on one bed. When in the field, Earl Harold shone a king Among their Norman knights his martial deeds The theme of every tongue ; but when at last He asked the hostages, to make an end Of pleasant visiting, the subtle Norman Claimed England as a promise from our king, His kinsman ; and required his guest's sworn oath SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 95 To be his man : exacting this great price For hospitality GURTH. 'Twas Circe's price, Manhood for blandishments. GYTHA. My son, his man 1 How answered Harold ? GUTHLAC. So the snare was spread The Earl was meshed, whichever way he turned : If he refused, a prison waited him, And England was made helpless, lacking him To bar the Norman ; if he should consent, His oath would fortify the claim alleged Of Edward's former promise to his cousin. GURTH. To meet such craft, there was no way but craft The lion learns a lesson of the fox. GUTHLAC. And so I deem Earl Harold answered it : He gave consent to all the Duke's demands ; Betrothed himself to the young Adeliza; g6 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. Before an assembly of the Norman states Took oath of service upon cross and relic To William's future crown. Again was craft A cunning trap prepared to catch his soul If he should dare deny these oaths compelled : While the Earl's hand was laid upon the cross, And on his lip the vow, a juggling priest Drew off the altar-covering, and displayed, Beneath, a heap of relics, bones of saints Gathered from all the shrines throughout the land, A dismal charnel-house where superstition Grinned on the luckless swearer. Pale as death Which thus mocked at him, our brave Harold stood ; But not a tremor shook his steady tones Repeating oaths to these grim witnesses. This mock of sacred ceremony done, Again Earl Harold claimed the hostages And leave to go. Again the crafty Norman showed his guile : He gave up Hakon, but kept Wolnoth back, His hostage for Earl Harold's faith to him. As thus we left perfidious Normandy, Upon Earl Harold's face a look of gloom Hung heavy, on his cloudy brow a frown ; Scarcely a word he spake until once more His foot was set upon the soil of Sussex, SCENE L] The Sons of Godwin. 97 When, lifting up his head, he cried aloud, " Absolve me, saints, whose bones have been profaned By jugglers' tricks, and mocked by perfidy 1" GVTHA. Alas ! what dark misfortune hides in this ? I feel its boding shadow cross my heart That coldly shudders with an ague-thrill. GURTH. It was a mean and treacherous deceit, A trick, whose cunning cheats the crafty knave, Duke though he be, that planned its tangled snare ; For such offense to honesty absolves The swearer from the duty of his oaths. Mother, farewell I go to Harold. GUTHLAC. Pardon Me, noble lady, that I bring ill news Which I wished better. GVTHA. Thanks for your better wish. Exeunt GURTH and GUTHLAC. O Wolnoth ! shall I never see thee more ? Exit. E Q 9 98 77/f So/is of Godwin. [ACT HI. SCENE II. LONDON. A chamber in the Benedictine Abbey. A table covered with papers, at which is seated ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Thus, like magician Merlin in his cell, I shape the fortunes of the coming time. That dream of eld, the force of magic art Was but the might of intellectual thought Stamped on the ignorance of a rude age. Over the seas from Rome's imperial site I feel the force of Hildebrand's large brain ; But thus I counterplot to build a throne Between our Saxon church and Italy ; And all goes well. Morkar will give his sister, The ealdormen their votes, to Saxon Harold ; And Saxon Harold will protect the church. Tostig is banished ; thus an element Of discord is removed. Harold returned And wed to Aldyth, all my plans are safe; And Hildebrand's ambitious strivings, checked, Will find a limit in the narrow seas SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 99 That roll between our isle and Normandy. Yes, this is my enchantment Enter HAROLD hurriedly. Who art thou That come so roughly on my presence ? Harold ! HAROLD. O holy father, help my troubled soul, Fighting a cruel battle in this breast ! ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Shield us, O saints ! Son Harold, what is this ? HAROLD. This is it : I have sworn a wicked oath : Which is the greater sin, to keep such oath : Or break it ? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Tell me first, my son, what oath You have so rashly sworn. HAROLD. Fool that I was To venture in the Norman spider's power ! ioo The Sons of Godwin. [ACT m. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Yield not to passion's storm ; but speak more calmly. HAROLD. Calmly ! ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Yes; calmly. HAROLD. If my whirling brain Will let me, father, I will tell you all. In my mind's vanity I reasoned thus : I know the measure of Duke William's mind ; He is ambitious, but delights in honor And all the noble usage of that code Of knighthood that he fosters in his land. father, I was blind as Folly, blind ; 1 did not know the man. His knighthood's code Is but a cloak he wears to hide his heart, Swollen to bursting with ambition, greed. Religion, knighthood, cunning, are the tools His will and huge ambition wield to build Aloft his fortunes. Father, I fear the man ; His wicked genius will o'erride my force : But, by my soul's eternal life, I swear SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 101 That I will fight his fortunes, step by step, Ere he shall build his throne in my dear land ! ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Nay, speak more calmly, Harold ; tell me all. HAROLD. I thought that I was safe, trusting his honor ; And this hath wrecked me. Once within his power I was as helpless as a fly immeshed By cunning spider. In his smile I saw, Long ere his words told me his heart's desire, How I had lost my venture in his land. Day after day. I watched his crafty face, And, underneath vain compliments, beheld How eagerly he sought to read my mind, That his might rightly weave his subtle plans. Then came a deep resolve upon my soul To meet his craft with like, and baffle him With the same art by which he sought his ends. This is the sin hath blackened all my life. O father, weary, weary were the days We watched each other, and I masked my thought Under a constant smile ; but he, more bold, Because he held the chances in his hand, Hid not his purpose from me, though not yet 9* IO2 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. Shaped in his words ; and still the problem worked, Whether to crush, or use me. When at length Determined in his course, he questioned me If I would help him to the throne of England When vacant by the death of our King Edward, Whose heir he was by Edward's solemn promise. What could I answer, father, to his question ? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. A negative had cost you then your life ? HAROLD. As surely as this Norman's vast ambition Will cost our land a hecatomb of lives : Which to avert, my own most cheerfully I would have yielded him ; but dying thus, Who would be left to warn, or happily save My country? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. A promise thus extorted In peril of your life is null and void. HAROLD. But listen, father. In the solemn presence Of the assembled states my oath was made SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 103 Upon a cross and relic ; while I swore, Odo of Bayeux, with sardonic grin, Drew off the cloth of gold beneath my hand, And, lo ! a coffer filled with dead men's bones Was there ; and I had filed the prescribed oaths Upon the relics of a hundred saints Gathered from all the shrines in Normandy. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED, aside. I see the hand of Hildebrand in this. HAROLD. It was a juggler's trick fit for a fiend, Not for a Christian priest. Then William's eye As glittering as a basilisk's was fixed On me, and its grim triumph haunts me now. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Truly, my son, your oaths were greatly sealed : And though you knew not of the coffered bones, Yet do they bind your soul. But be of cheer ; The church of Christ, thus symbolized by saints, Can set you free from these entangling oaths ; Which profit not the church, nor holy saints, Profit no good, but help an evil thing. IO4 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. HAROLD. Until the hour the Norman Duke entrapped me I kept my soul, in honest purpose, clear ; But now 'tis stained and darkened by a crime : Nor, though the church absolve me of each oath, Can I win back the pure white garb of Truth. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Nay, Harold, if the church absolve the oath Your soul is clear ; all stains thus washed away. HAROLD. Father, before this sin, with hope and faith In my true purpose and my honest heart, I faced the future : now as black as night Seem all forebodingly the days to come ; Nor lighted by one cheerful ray of hope. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Thus is it ever, my dear son, with error ; It blackens all things, but it makes most foul The spot where it abides. If you have erred It was through erring judgment, and the sin Hath no abiding-place within your soul. Are you content your penance for this error SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 105 Shall be the true devotion of yourself Unto your country ? HAROLD. If, thus sin-begrimed, I can be deemed still worthy to do this, My single aim shall be to save my land From the insatiate lust of the fierce tiger That I have seen stretching his huge, sharp claws Out of their velvet sheaths, in hungry greed To feed on England. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. England and freedom rest on you alone Our free-born England and our Saxon freedom. There is no other chief in all the land Can cope with William, or can lead, as thou, United England forth a mighty host Whose myriad swords will cut to finest shreds The cunning plans of these intriguing foes. Yet think not, Harold, this great duty easy ; Who gives himself, must not hold back a part : Your country needs your greatest sacrifice. HAROLD. What mean you, father ? What more can I give Than the true service of my mind and hands? E* io6 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. You must give up another plighted promise- Not, like these last, sworn to unwillingly. HAROLD. Another promise ! you must mean, to Edith. How can my love for her obstruct my service And duty to my country ? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Thus, my son : To bind the country to you, heart and hand, The heirs of Godwin and of Leofric Must make alliance with a stronger bond Than the large promises that men forget. This bond must be your marriage with fair Aldyth. HAROLD. No, priest ; I give my country earnest work, Untiring labor of my mind and hands ; My heart is plighted to the Lady Edith, And it were mockery of faith and truth To wed another. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Is it even so ? SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 107 England hath only one great Saxon left, Inheritor of her brave people's love, With strength of mind and arm to help her now, And he would rather wanton in the smile Of a fair woman, than protect his land From a dread foe, armed with the potent might And subtle pretext of these broken oaths ? For, as your dark forebodings indicate, Your mind perceives how this unhappy chance May prove a weapon in the Norman's hand To strike your country its most deadly blow. HAROLD. Father, I see it ; and it is this thought That drives my mind to chaos of despair. Since my rash oath, thus sealed by trickery With the tremendous seal of superstition, I see its several imports, hidden then When on my startled mind the trap was sprung. Thus hampered I am all unfit to be the king ; Let England choose another ; I will serve him. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. You speak not now like Harold. Look around ; Where is the king to place on England's throne? 108 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT HI. HAROLD. Edgar the ^Etheling. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Nay, Harold; shame Should seal your lips from speaking such poor folly ; Edmund's weak grandson cannot be our king. HAROLD. My arm will guard his sceptre, prop his throne. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Peace ! Edgar matched against the Norman Duke The folly of the thing would stir men's laughter, Did not its peril strike their lips with palsy. HAROLD. priest, you hotly chase my panting heart, As hunters chase the timid, flying deer From covert unto covert, till at last, Beat from all refuge, there is naught but death. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. 1 only show you what yourself will see, Without such showing, when the time matures, That thus forewarned you may be well prepared. SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 109 HAROLD. No, no ; my arm would lose both skill and strength ; Courage forsake me, yielding cherished hope ; And judgment too desert my unnerved brain, If I should forfeit truth and manhood thus. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Howe'er you strive against the inevitable, God, duty, and your conscience still remain, And point the path your foot must surelv tread. HAROLD. I come to you for comfort, and you give Me up to torture. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Midst a thousand pangs That tear the body and distract the soul, That soul springs upward to a better life From painful bed of death ; so life's large aims Are won by suffering and the wreck of hopes : You only bear, my son, your share of pain ; Many there be who bear a double load. HAROLD. God guide me rightly, for my stubborn heart 1 10 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. Rebels against the duty that you teach ! Pray for me, father ; and discharge the oaths Whose burden on my conscience weighs me down So heavily that duty strikes my ear, A senseless word, with scarce a meaning to it. Exeunt. SCENE III. LONDON. The house of EDITH. Enter EDITH, dressed in black, and with a sad coun- tenance. EDITH. How strange it seems the sun should shine so bright, The birds so gayly sing upon the boughs Of the old Druid oak beside my lattice, And in the garden where I loved to walk The flowers should open blossoms to the sun, And insects flit huge, bright-winged butterflies, Swift bees, gold-ringed, darting with busy hum All summer-like, and gay with glad rejoicing, While in my bosom freezing winter reigns, SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 1 1 1 And happiness a vanished dream appears Only a recollection of the past ! Alas ! insensible the busy world Of nature, heedless all, while sorrow feeds, Like a devouring moth, within my breast. It seems as if the sky should take dull tints, The sun withdraw behind black, stormy clouds, A sudden winter freeze these summer smiles, As youth's fond hopes are chilled and cold in me. I thought that I must part from all these scenes Of former happiness with sad regrets ; But now they seem so senseless of my pain, So joyful while I weep, that thus, alas ! Even regret is lost in the cold chill That numbs me, as I deem the hand of Death Numbs the poor wretch it summons to the grave. Perhaps my harp hath power to warm again My deadened senses, as it oft hath moved, By its sweet melodies, responsive chords Of inner being whose vibrations stir The quick emotions. She bends over the harp, but the string she touches breaks. No ; its strings refuse To yield me music, as all nature shrinks Unsympathetic from me and my woe H2 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. Which I must bear alone. Nothing can rouse My stone-cold heart. Enter a servant. SERVANT. My lady, the Earl Harold. EDITH. No no ; I cannot see him bid him go. Exit servant. Why did I linger here ? My heart will break ! The abbey walls, my refuge from the world, Should now have been my shield Enter HAROLD, who advances eagerly. HAROLD. My Edith Edith EDITH, shrinking back. Harold, I did not think to see you more ; I have renounced the world, its joys and hopes, For the calm stillness of a convent's cell And blessed peace that clothes a bride of Heaven. HAROLD. Where is the love you promised me ? SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 113 EDITH, laying her hand on her breast. Alas! Here, Harold here. I cannot crush it out ; Its roots have struck too deep. Naught now remains But I must hide myself and it from all In the lone cloister. You, to Aldyth wed, By her alliance will protect the land ; Edith will kiss the Saviour's holy cross. HAROLD. This is the work of Aldred. Plotting priest, Here, in the one most vulnerable spot Of all, your keen and fatal arrow strikes ! O Edith, I have made your cherished love My beacon-light, the bright and guiding star To which I turn however Fortune frowns, And in its radiance feel my strength renewed To meet perplexities, misfortunes, doubts. That star above me, I can smile at fate ; With calm serenity meet any chance: But take its light away and I am lost ; Edith, I charge you, rob me not of hope ! ' EDITH. What should we do with hope? that human joy H I0 * 1 14 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT m. Is not for us ; cold Duty struck its blossom, And it has withered at the icy touch. Peasants may love and hope, but we may not. HAROLD. And can you, Edith, for a priest's cold words, Give up the love you promised should be mine Your love, the one, sweet blossom of my hopes, Bright childhood's promise, the very crown of life? EDITH. I give up you : I give not up my love ; For, Harold, I am sure, whate'er may chance, My love and I will die in the same day. HAROLD. This Duty, cruel, fatal to our happiness, Is but a phantom, summoned by a priest To push along his nice-constructed schemes; Our hearts and hopes, the pawns with which he plays, Content to lose them, so he gain his end. I too can plan as wisely as the priest ; Give me your love, and trust my larger grasp Of statecraft and philosophy of life That takes sufficient scope to draw within Its figures man's humanity, as well SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin 115 His generous impulse, as each cautious fear. Thus may we serve the needs of our dear land, And keep our hopes. To sunder the dear ties That we have pledged, and to go coldly out Into the world to falsify my heart, Would rob my arm of vigor, and my mind Of the bright hopes, the sanguine energies, That win success from dark, uncertain chance. In the great game of life, 'tis not the calm, Passionless plotter, with his deep-laid schemes, That wins ; but he within whose loving heart Flushes the warm blood stirred by ardent hope, The quick enthusiast, not the subtle priest. EDITH. O Harold, Harold, do not tempt me thus ; You know not how in anguish I have fought My stubborn heart. The bishop's plans are wise, And Duty points the right but painful way ; Better to bow to Duty than Remorse. If I should yield to you my dower might be Sorrow, regrets, reproachful tongues of men, Till all would look on me yes, even you, In spite of generous love as the sad cause Of your disaster and our country's ills. Better now sorrow than a shameful end n6 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. To the proud honors, your ancestral right. Harold, because I love you I refuse To be the weight to pull you down from glory And honor's bright career; so large your soul You would give all for me : I will not take it, And rob my country of its only help ; Oh, let me sacrifice my heart and hopes, Not ruin all, my country, you and hope ! HAROLD. Thus will you make two lives most desolate, And yet perhaps purchase no benefit, Nor stay calamity. EDITH. Take not away From my sad soul the only thing I gain When I give all, the martyr's holy hope When the flame wraps him, dying for his faith ! HAROLD. Edith, beware of useless sacrifice ! EDITH. Your love, alas I tempts you to cruel words. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. \\j HAROLD. To spare more cruel act. EDITH. No, Harold, no ; I must not listen unto sophistry. A last farewell I shall not see you more, But I will pray most constantly to Heaven To send its blessings on you ; so my love Will be outpoured in prayer. EDITH moves away. HAROLD. Stay! Edith stay! EDITH stops, turns to him, makes a gesture of sorrowful refusal, then goes out. She's gone 1 I am a plaything now for chance. Calamity, thy sharpest sting is here ; I fear no. more, so fatal this last stroke, So crushed am I Ill-chance hath wrought its worst ; And time hath nothing more to equal this My country yes Draws his sword, and kneels to make oath on the cross of its hilt. Here I devote my life To make this sacrifice of worth to thee. iiS The Sons of Godwin. [ACT in. Edith, within her convent, yet shall hear How Harold saved his land, or she will weep When they bring tidings of his faithful death, Fighting the Norman. Take, ye bones of saints, This oath in place of one I cannot keep.' Bows down his head over the cross-hilts of his sword. ACT iv.] The Sons of Godwin. i 19 ACT IV. SCENE I. LONDON. Hall of state in the KiNG Guards and attendants. FIRST ATTENDANT. Think you the king will sit in state to-day ? SECOND ATTENDANT. I have it from his Master of the Robes He will. Though very weak and deathly sick, He hath a sick man's craving to be placed Once more in state, so fitly to receive From the Archbishop notice in due form Of the high consecration of his church, Westminster Abbey. FIRST ATTENDANT. Why doth he hear it now, So sick ; not wait the time of better health? I2O The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. SECOND ATTENDANT. 'Tis whispered that his health will not be better. He vowed, long years ago, a pilgrimage To Rome, which failing, he hath built this church, His dispensation from the holy father, And fain would see all finished ere he dies : His mind so dwells upon it, he must rise From his sick-bed for this important audience. See, here he comes ; how very weak he is ! Look how he leans upon the Earl. FIRST ATTENDANT. Yes yes ; This audience is his last. SECOND ATTENDANT. Hush ! take your place. Enter the KING, supported on one side by EARL HAROLD, on the other by ARCHBISHOP ALDRED; ' he is placed in his chair of state, and is accom- panied by EARLS GURTH and MORKAR, thanes, guards, and attendants. KING, feebly. Tell the Archbishop of Canterbury we give Him audience. SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 121 Attendants go out, and bring in ARCHBISHOP STIGAND and priests. The KING sinks back in his chair as if unconscious ; HAROLD bends over him, then turns to ARCHBISHOP STIGANU. HAROLD. My Lord, the king would hear If you have made with fitting ceremony The consecration of his church. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. My liege, Your gift to God, Westminster's lordly pile, His servants have, with all accustomed rites, Sealed to his service. Your most holy vow Unto Christ's vicar is by this discharged, And in his name I now confirm to you All the indulgence and your sins' remission Beforetime promised by our holy father. Such gifts of kings are pleasing in God's sight ; For, helping thus his church, you bring his light Of love and saving to the hearts of men ; Thus as a king and servant of the Lord You do a double service He heeds me not ! My Lords, this stupor of the king is strange. F M 122 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. HAROLD. Laying his hand on the KING'S arm. My liege, the Archbishop brings you here the thanks Of holy church for your most kingly gift. KING. Starting up and speaking wildly. Yes, I am ready look not on me so ; Your eyes, so deathly, fill me with affright : I fear not death ; but yet I fear your eyes. HAROLD. My liege, you dream, addressing empty space. Who is it that you speak to ? we see none. KING. That tall, dark palmer with the spectral eyes Nay, he is gone ; bring him to me again, For I would question him of this strange thing. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. My liege, your sickness mounts into your brain : There was no palmer here ; it was a dream. KING. A strange dream, Lords. My soul, a premonition SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 123 That this your earthly life draws near an end. Oh, take me, saints, to dwell with you in heaven ! God give me strength if this thing comes of thee And not of demons to relate the story. The vision, I have seen, came to me thus : In Normandy, full forty years ago, I was young then, alas, how strange it seems ! Old now arid sick, a palmer came to me, A strange, weird man with eyes that wildly gleamed As if they looked on things most horrible. He told me I should be a king, and rule In England many, many troubled years ; That sin would flourish underneath my sceptre Until God's vengeance shadowed all the land ; After my death, within a year and day, My kingdom should be vanquished by a foe, And all the land by demons overrun : Then, when I asked him how to save the land, He told me, "Nay, the land cannot be saved." Departing, promised ere my life should cease To come again, forewarning me of death. This palmer, with his wild, unearthly eyes Unchanged, nor looking older by a day Than when I saw him forty years ago, Stood here but now, and in a solemn voice Spake thus to me : " King, I have come again 124 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. As I foretold ; thou art, hast been a king, And monstrous evils cumber all the land, While over all a threatening shadow falls, Still growing darker. Death now draweth near To claim you his ; and afterward the land And throne will pass by deed, red-writ in battle, To a stranger, as I told you formerly. Come, are you ready?" Then I answered him ; And you spoke to me, Harold, and you, Aldred ; But when I looked again, the thing was gone. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. I know not if this vision comes of God, But take, O King, its warning, and prepare To meet the saints. But first one kingly act : Name a successor to the English throne. You have no son to be your lineal heir ; Who then shall have the rule ? KING. Ah ! who would be a king? 'Tis care and woe ; A happier lot the base-born peasant knows Than is a king's pain on his gold-bound brow. HAROLD. Dear liege, the Duke of Normandy, your cousin, SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 125 Claims England in the right of an old promise From you to him ; but England will be torn With many wounds ere he can fill the throne. Will you then leave such heritage of blood Unto your kingdom ? Be more wise, more kind ; Name* a successor such that all may thank And bless your name, you brought not here a stranger To set his foot on England's liberties. KING. The crowning goodness of the King of Heaven Calls me from this, my earthly throne, to kneel Most humbly at his greater throne of grace. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Who leaves his duty unfulfilled on earth Is not prepared to kneel before the throne Of Him who portions duty unto all. Give us your answer : Who shall be our king When you give up this sceptre and your crown ? KING. Son Harold, wouldst thou sit upon this throne, And wear our majesty, and feel our woe ? A weary burden is the kingly robe, u* 126 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. HAROLD. My gracious king, not for its majesty, Name, office, power, will I sit on your throne ; My heart hath taken a deep, a mortal wound, In which ambition died, and life's bright hopes ; So regal power hath lost its grace for me : But what my country in its need requires, That will I do ; and if to wear a crown, Not as a triumph, but as holy trust, Its ring shall bind my brow. I do not seek it ; Its glitter tempts me not. KING. Take it, son Harold ; none in all the land So fit as you to rule. Ye ealdormen, Take note : the king bequeaths his crown to Harold I cannot speak this faintness grows on me. The KING sinks back, and falls into a sttipor. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. The king is very ill ; it seems most fit To bear him to his chamber ; much I fear He will not speak again. KING. Starting to his feet, and speaking loudly. Ha ! Sanguelac ! SCENE I.] The Sons of Godwin. 127 The lake of blood ! I see it, oh ! I see it The army of the demons Ha ! and he Who leads them on I know those frightful eyes ; It is the palmer no he's clad in mail Duke William Normans demons Help, O saints ! Help for the land ! A vaunt, ye dreadful spoilers I The Lord hath bent his bow ; it is his shaft My eyes are full of blood. Help ! help me ! help I The KING falls back info the arms of HAROLD and ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. A warning and a prophecy of ill. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. Nay, do you fear the dreams of a sick man, That thus you tremble, Lords, when fever flies With its strange fancies through the dizzy brain Painting fantastic, flitting images? HAROLD. Hush, priest ! the king is dead. Tableau. 128 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. SCENE IL LONDON. Antechamber in the house of EARL HAROLD. Enter MOLLO. MOLLO. Now must I think what office will I have ? His chamberlain and treasurer is too high ; That's for a thane. The Master of the Robes? That's not so easy. Or the Chief of Huntsmen ? Ah ! that's too active. Something of profit, honor, Nor yet too high. I must be always modest, And make no enemies ; for my wise head Tells me the best philosophy is that Which brings most comfort. Guthlac sighs for fame, Longs for the battle like a neighing steed, That he may capture Fortune : not so I ; If Fortune comes I'll shake her by the hand, But never be so very impudent To take by storm the maid. To try and miss Would be misfortune, which men try to miss. This household suits me well ; perhaps the change, Transforming our great earl into a king, SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 129 May spoil a good earl, make a so-so king ; But if he makes a good king or a bad, Concerns me not so much as this one thing : What doth it bring to Mollo ? There's the risk. Why should I seek for office when without it I've been contented? Why? Because of folly. And I was thinking stupid that I am To get an office honor ? profit ? no ; While here I eat the best, and drink the best, Sleep on the softest down, am free from care. How is my master, though they make him king, Happier than I ? his throne ? his crown of pearl ? Who ever called King Edward happy king? They called him saint and monk, sometimes blessed king, But yet that blessing never happiness ; Who ever saw a smile upon his brow? So should the witan, in their wisdom, choose That I, instead of Harold, be their king, I make my bow, I give them my best thanks, But say, " My Lords, oh no ; a king? not I ; I'd rather be a minstrel." Shouting without. Ha, they come ! PEOPLE, without. Long live King Harold ! F* i 130 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. MOLLO. It is so ; they come To bring the Earl dead Edward's shining fillet, A pretty bauble glittering over cares. PEOPLE, without. Live England ! Saxon England and King Harold ! MOLLO. They shout for England first ; that is themselves, This noble people Loud shouting. Thing with many mouths ; And all the mouths now stretched in noisy shouting. PEOPLE, without. Long live King Harold ! Long live Saxon England ! MOLLO. A noisy people. I'll go and be a mouth To shout as loud as any. Exit leisurely SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 131 SCENE III. LONDON. Hall in the house of EARL HAROLD. EARL HAROLD, sifting. There was a time when pure of heart and hand I nursed ambition, not a wicked scheme To rise by others' downfall, but a hope, Rising to raise my country. In that time Of bright anticipations I looked forward With delighted hope to the proud hour, now near, When the great witan should declare me king, Basileus of Britain. Now, how changed By my own errors and false pride of judgment! No hope springs up elastic in my heart To shout with coming fortune ; but I wait Content in sadness to accept a duty. Starts up impatiently. If I could drive away the guilty Past, Banish the haunting Future, call up Hope Again to crown her with this majesty And name her Edith this were happiness, And this the day I dreamed of long ago. 132 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. Impossible ! The bones of saints grin at me in derision. Enter GUTHLAC. GUTHLAC. The chiefs of England come to greet their king. Enter ARCHBISHOPS OF YORK and CANTERRURY, EARLS GURTH and MORKAR, thanes, etc, ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Harold, the witan chooseth you our king. Though not of Cerdic's line, O son of Godwin, We choose you for your faithful English heart ; We choose you for your arm of Saxon strength ; We choose you for your valiant Danish blood ; We choose the soldier who knows not defeat ; We choose the ruler who is always just ; We choose the statesman, wise and politic. Hail Harold, King of England ! ALL. Hail Harold, King of England ! HAROLD. And I, most holy fathers, earls and thanes, Accept the trust you proffer to my hands, SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 133 A sacred trust from England and from God. Tiie sceptre I will hold with even hand ; Do equal justice unto high and low ; Sustain the law ; restrain all lawlessness ; Build unto stronger union our dear land, Making one brotherhood of Danes and Saxons; That England may rejoice in healthful strength, And fair Prosperity, with lavish hand, Pour wealth and plenty on our favored island. So may I reign for no vain pageantries Or idle pleasures, but my country's good ; And God so judge me as I keep this pledge. HAROLD sits. GURTH advances, kneels and places his hand on HAROLD'S knee. GURTH. I choose you, Harold, for my lord and king. MORKAR advances, kneels and places his hand on HAROLD'S knee. MORKAR. I choose you, Harold, for my lord and king. Thanes successively kneel and place their hands on HAROLD'S knee. THANES. I choose you, Harold, for my lord and king. 134 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. My liege, your coronation should proceed With all convenient speed ; we know not what A day, an hour may bring. Please you appoint The time when all the rites of church and state May join to consecrate our new-made king. Enter OSBALD hastily. OSBALD. Earl Harold, news ! GURTH, grasping OSBALD 's arm. . Kneel, fellow, to your king. OSBALD kneels, then rises. OSBALD. O King, defend your realm. I come from York. A mighty army is on Humber's banks ; The river white with ships. Tostig, the fierce, And the Norwegian king, great Hardrada, Lead on a wild, rapacious armament. All Norway is afoot. From casques of steel Adown huge shoulders hangs their yellow hair, As round a lion sweeps his tangled mane ; They march, the fierce berserkers of the North, With clash of shields, and shouting battle-songs, SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 135 While o'er them flap their frightful raven-flags. O King, so great a peril never came ; So great an army never sought our shores, Norwegian, Dane, in all the troubled past. KING HAROLD. They shall be met. Go, Morkar, to your earldom ; Rouse all Northumberland, and lead their war As once great Siward led ; your brother, Edwin, , Must bring his Mercians. Brave Gurth, your voice And Leofwine's shall raise our Kent and Sussex ; Let our bold Saxons grasp the sword and axe And come at Harold's call. Ourself in person Will levy here. England shall leap to arms ; Make rough our shore with graves of slaughtered Norse. Bishops, in haste I must be crowned to-night To-night in Westminster if scant the rites. The time brooks not delay a king, full-crowned, Must lead the embattled might of England forth Against these fierce forayers of the North. In all your churches ring the service bells, Bid all your priests send up their solemn prayers While our good swords cut down this heathen host. Go each and act as if on him alone His country's fate were hung. Exeunt all but the KING. 1 36 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. Now beats my heart As when it throbbed with sweet entrancing dreams : If not for love, I live for England, glory. Exit. SCENE IV. THE COUNTRY BEFORE YORK. KING HARDRADA, TOSTIG and soldiers. HARDRADA. My friend, this town of York, is it not crazed ? It has no army ; burghers man its walls ; If we let loose on it our dogs of war, Their very howling will throw down its gates ; And even now they strain upon the leash. We may not hold them long. Pray tell them this ; If then they open not their gates to us There will be wailing of their wives and daughters When Norway storms their walls what do they mean ? TOSTIG. Most valiant Hardrada, our Englishmen Have not been taught to yield ; they find it hard To learn such lesson. Give them time, my friend ; Nor spoil the thing that surely will be ours. SCENE iv.] The Sons of Godwin. 137 HARDRADA. They shall have time. It is a goodly land, This England, and we like it passing well ; We hear the king is sick ; his idle throne, Useless unto a sick man, waits for us ; And we will take it. Is there any army Or chief that dares to meet our Northern host, To match his strength against King Hardrada? TOSTIG. The king is naught, but standing by his throne Is Harold Godwinson, my father's son ; 'Tis he will lead the army. Dream not, King, Harold will fly because your warriors shout ; Save all your strength ; use all your boasted skill ; We shall need both when Harold brings us war. HARDRADA. My friend, we've lived and fought in many lands; Faced the fierce Scythian, Saracen and Turk ; Met the wild horsemen of the Asian plains; Fought in Caucasian mountains savage men As rude as shaggy bears; but ne'er have seen In any land such warriors as we bring Into this war from Norway's stormy coasts. 12* 138 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. Behold their brows, how wide ; their eyes, how fierce j Their shaggy hair, their stature huge and tall Each stands, a giant portraiture of Thor ; They'll kill and eat your stunted Englishmen. TOSTIG. Believe it not ; I too have been a rover, And looked on warriors of the East and North ; Our Englishmen fight well, I warn you, Hardrada. HARDRADA. See you yon clouds of dust ? there are armed men ; I catch the glitter of their mail and arms Emerging from the wood ; it is a host. TOSTIG. I see them, King ; look where yon banner flies Now, by Saint Swithin ! as I truly think, 'Tis Harold leads the might of England hither. Marshal your force ; arrange your battle-lines ; You soon will see how Englishmen can fight. HARDRADA. Bring up my banner. Plant the standard here. Earl Tostig, ride with speed along our host Upon the right ; the left shall be my care ; SCENE v.] The Sons of Godwin. 139 Swing back the flank till like a crescent moon Or reaper's sickle curves our gleaming line ; Thus we will gain this island-throne to-day, Loosing our hungry ban-dogs in the land. Exit HARDRADA. TOSTIG. Now will the Wolf s-head win his own again ; Or else good-night to Tostig. Exit. SCENE V. THE COUNTRY BEFORE YORK. Another part of the field. Enter SEXWULF, armed with a Saxon boar-spear. SEXWULF. No one sees me ; now if I reach the wood I shall be safe ; but if they see and follow It will be thought that I have fled from fear From fear ? What should I be afraid of? Death ? A slave's life humph ! Wherefore should he save life ? For himself? no, he doth not own himself; Then for his master? fool, to take such trouble; 140 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. Yet, spite of reason, he defends his life As if 'twere something that was worth his having. Here is all England come to fight the Norsemen ; Some fight for honor, lands, home, wife and children, And the slaves fight because their masters bid them ; But Sexwulf does not lands, home, wife and children He has not ; nor will fight when he is bidden. Time was, no no ; why do I think of it ? When Sexwulf's children hung about his knees, And his wife met him with a welcoming eye No no ; I'll not remember it ; 'tis past : A slave, what should he do with wife or children ? And yet he had a heart to love, to hope, To grieve, alas ! When they despoiled his home, Robbed him of wife and children, Sexwulf wept ; And, though a slave, suffered as suffer men. Since then, ah, many, many, weary years ! No voice hath cheered him with kind word, save one Whom Sexwulf followed as a dog, his master, Content to be a slave because he loved ; But him they killed Cuthbert, my friend, my master, Hunted to death by Tostig's savage band ! Now Sexwulf threatens Tostig a slave, an earl. How would this son of Godwin curl his lip, His scornful lip, at a slave's enmity, And kick me, like a dog, out of his lordly way, SCENE v.] The Sons of Godwin. 141 Nor deign to turn his sharp sword's point on me, Too good a death to give a base-born slave ! Cannot a slave then haply kill an earl ? Strip them of trappings, both are men alike ; Both built by Nature of her stuff for men. I dare not face him do I then lack courage ? No ; armor, skill and weapons. I must lurk Waiting for chance, that serves the base-born slave As well as the great earl, to come behind, And strike him through his armor. Ha, away ! I hear the clash of arms and tramp of feet How coward-like I fly from every sound, Yet boast of killing earls 1 Enter on one side GUTHLAC, on the other KING HARDRADA, TOSTIG and soldiers. SEXWULF, attempting to fly, is stopped by TOSTIG. Caught like a wolf-cub in a silly snare. TOSTIG. Speak; what art thou? SEXWULF. Sexwulf, the slave. TOSTIG. A slave What makes you here ? 142 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. SEXWULF. They whipped me, and I fled ; If I must fight, I'll fight against my country Like great Earl Tostig, joined with Norway's ranks. GUTHLAC, aside. A cutting sarcasm, though the slave knows not How sharp a sting he plants in Tostig's breast Despite of sword-proof mail. HARDRADA. A sullen knave ; his welcome will be rude Among our free-born warriors. TOSTIG. Slave, begone ! Exit SEXWULF. Thane Guthlac, wherefore come you to our host ? GUTHLAC. A message to Earl Tostig from the king. TOSTIG. What king ? Here standeth one, King Hardrada, Whose sword hath cut for him the golden round SCENE v.] The Sons of Godwin. 143 Of sovereignty, nor yet hath dulled its edge. What king ? GUTHLAC. King Harold. TOSTIG. Is it so, indeed ? What have you done with Edward, that sweet saint? GUTHLAC. King Edward's dead. HARDRADA. Poor king. TOSTIG. Harold, a king 1 HARDRADA. 'Twas not worth while ; his reign will not be long. TOSTIG. What message to me from the King of England ? GUTHLAC. King Harold sends his greeting to his brother: He shall have peace, his friendship as of old And all his ancient honors. 144 The Sons of Godwin [ACT iv. TOSTIG. It is well ; The Wolf s-head asks no more. What will he give To my best friend and ally, Hardrada, Who thus hath brought the Wolfs head back to grace ? What shall this warlike King of Norway have ? GUTHLAC. A grave in England's soil. HARDRADA. Ha ! says he so ? TOSTIG. Go back to Harold ; give him this from me : Tostig hath made his league with Norway's king, And, come what may, he will abide the chance To win or fall by brave Hardrada' s side ; He should have sent me offers long ago ; It is too late to-day. GUTHLAC. King Hardrada, Thus sai-th the King of England : quit the land, You and your pirate horde, or he will sweep All your Norwegian scum into the sea j And Norway's widows, with lamenting wail, SCENE vi.] The Sons of Godwin. 145 Shall drown the roar of billows as they roll In noisy tumult on your northern strands. HARDRADA. Tell your king this : Words fright not Hardrada, Whose ear hath heard the Asian lion roar, And the wild Tartars of the desert yell ; We come to fight. Go back and tell him so. Exeunt. SCENE VI. THE COUNTRY NEAR YORK. The battle-field. Alarums. Enter KING HAROLD and soldiers. KING HAROLD. Their lines are broken. Far along the right The gallant Leofwine rides down their host With England's cavalry ; upon the left The men of Kent and Sussex, led by Gurth, Have driven back their line. Enter GURTH. O my brave Gurth, Thou art a warrior of the antique stamp ! How goes the day ? G K 13 146 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. GURTH. Brother, the day is ours ; King Hardrada is down, wounded or dead, And all his Norsemen fly, while Leofwine Tramples their host beneath his horsemen's feet : It is a rout ; to Stanford bridge they fly, And o'er it to their ships. Enter GUTHLAC. KING HAROLD. - What news, good Guthlac ? GUTHLAC. The day is ours ; King Hardrada is slain A random arrow struck the Norway king, And pierced his throat; he clutched and broke the shaft, Gasped thrice, and died ; I caught him when he fell, And bade the soldiers bring his body here. KING HAROLD. He was the victor of a thousand fights ; His name is known on the far Caspian shores, Along the Volga, by the Danube, Elbe, And everywhere alike a conqueror ; Yet he comes here to die : thus slain by chance, SCENE vi.] The Sons of Godwin. 147 The random arrow he escaped so oft Why was he not content with Norway's throne ? Now all his land is but his length of earth. Enter a soldier. SOLDIER. My liege, I come from Leofwine. Our right Now rests at Stanford bridge ; o'er which in flight Pours the Norwegian host, save those who lie, Bleeding and dead, in piles along the way. KING HAROLD. Cannot brave Leofwine secure the bridge ? Why do we tarry with the field half won ? SOLDIER. Before the bridge stands Tostig like a god, And all go down before his gleaming sword ; Up to the bridge the Norsemen stragglers fly From centre, right and left ; he keeps his post, While round him cluster a devoted band On which our soldiers charge, but charge in vain ; Like Odin's self, he drives them fiercely back, Still holds the bridge, and saves his flying host. So Leofwine, who will not fight his brother, Begs you to send a messenger of peace. 148 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. KING HAROLD. Ill-fated Tostig, great amid defeat ! Guthlac, go you, and proffer from us peace ; Peace unto him and all his flying host : Tell him, good Guthlac, that his brothers' hearts Are open to him still. Come, friends, away ; Gather our force ; the foe may turn again. Exeunt. SCENE VII. BEFORE STANFORD BRIDGE. TOSTIG, leaning on his sword. TOSTIG. Here ends the day ; the brave Hardrada slain, And with him half his host; the rest, dismayed, Beyond the Derwent gather into bands Marching toward their ships. What now remains For Tostig ? Shall he join the flying host, And purchase life with loss of name and honor ? Vanquished ! by Heaven, it galls me worse than death ! A thing for scorn to mock at ! Men will say " Hardrada won, if not the battle, glory, Dying a soldier's death upon the field ; But Tostig fled, as flies the frightened wolf, His braver comrade slain." SCENE vii.] The Sons of Godwin. 149 Hardrada's death will give him deathless fame, But Tostig's flight, a monument of shame. Great King of Norway, your renown, death-bought, Tostig will share ; and when they tune their harps To sing the valiant deeds of Sigurd's son, One verse at least shall tell how Tostig fell, More fearing shame than death. They come again Ho ! Norway ! Norway ! TOSTIG springs forward and meets GUTHLAC entering. GUTHLAC. Nay, it is peace I bring. Thus saith the king: His former proffers doth he now renew, Peace unto you and all the Norway host ; He offers you your place within his heart And all your ancient honors in the land. TOSTIG. And doth he think I am so poor a thing To creep up to his feet like a whipped dog ? He may give peace, but Tostig will not take it. I stand at bay, though all my host be fled, And still defy your England ; I can die, But will not yield, nor take your proffered peace No truce. Strike, thane ! They fight. SEXWULF enters > crouching at back, -waiting an opportunity to strike TOSTIG. 13* 150 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT iv. SEXWULF, aside. I spy a broken link in Tostig's mail ; This is my chance to kill him. SEXWULF advances and strikes his spear into TOSTIG'S back. TOSTIG turns and kills him; then leans heavily on his sword. TOSTIG. Killed by a slave at last to die a dog's death ; And I, an earl Glory, I ever sought thee, And thou hast baffled me at last at last ! But none can say that Tostig ever feared ; He dies, like Danish jarl, with sword in hand, And in his mail. Ah, Death, thy tooth is sharp; It bites my heart ; but I defy thee still ! Ho, thane, strike on ! TOSTIG attempts to brandish his sword, but falls and dies. GUTHLAC. Brave as a lion's, Tostig, was your heart, But scarce less cruel than the king of beasts' j Your life ends here, but long will live your story Brightening with valor's lustre evil deeds. Exit. ACT v.] The Sons of Godwin. 151 ACT V. SCENE I. YORK. A spacious hall. Soldiers banqueting KING HAROLD sitting apart. FIRST SOLDIER. Drink, friends, the foaming ale, and thank your stars You were not eaten by these Norway giants. SECOND SOLDIER. Giants indeed, man-eaters like enough ; For when I saw the huge Norwegians run, It brought back to my mind that silly tale Of childhood's wonder, him of the seven-leagued boots. ALL. Ha-ha ! ha-ha ! FIRST SOLDIER. Old seven-leagued boots that's good ; but did you mark What manes these Norsemen have? 152 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. THIRD SOLDIER. Sea-lions' manes; Yes, they have grown these shaggy fells of hair In purpose of this visit, to affright us ; But, finding we remain unterrified, Have back returned to grow them bigger manes. SECOND SOLDIER. But some will mnane here. ALL. Oh! oh! ha-ha! FIRST SOLDIER. We'll drink a pleasant journey to them, friends; Fill up the cups with ale. ALL. We drink to them. KING HAROLD. Life a short day an interval between Nothing and darkness flitting consciousness, Vivid and startling as the lightning's flash ; And like that blinding glare beholding all, But in an instant gone beyond recall. SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 153 Death a grim phantom ever haunting Life The Night that swallows Day a frightful pause The black rever.se of Glory's shining shield Life's opposite, whose emblem is the grave. Life, Death the two conditions of one thing, Whose margins meet ; which is the normal state? Which real, and which the shadow ? which is health ? And which disease? to-day we have the one, To-morrow comes the other a slave's spear, A random arrow, some disastrous chance, And on this day of life, a black eclipse. To him who dies, it is as if the world, This solid, steadfast earth, on which is writ Forever in its sunshine, at a touch Melted again in chaos. And what then ? The future, grandly pictured by the church, Is it a fact or fable ? Let that pass. O Tostig ! where thy valor now, thy strength, Daring ambitions built above all hope ? Two days ago thou wast elate with life, Now as inert and senseless as the sod Cut by thy heels' sharp track. And I must meet my mother ; her last words, " Harold, be merciful unto my son," Ring in my ears ; but louder than her words Fate called to him. He fell, as falls a star G* 154 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. Across the heavens a bright and gleaming track, Then quenched its light forever. So to me, My soul forewarns, will come the shaft of death. The sound of laughter is heard. My thoughts suit not this revelry. Thy ghost, My brother, seems to sit in joyless gloom Among these feasters, and my ear, intent, Listens to catch thy tones. Ho ! bring me wine. Enter EARL GURTH. Your brow, my brother, wears no festive smile ; Why do you slight the feast ? GURTH. Harold, my heart Would not rejoice, nor fill with gayety. Despite my knowledge of his fatal end I looked for Tostig in each feaster's face, Listened to hear his voice in every sound, And, thus disturbed, could find no comfort here, But sought the night-air's pure, refreshing breath To cool the fever burning on my brow. KING HAROLD. Your words reflect the image of my thoughts ; My mind, as yours, dear Gurth, is tortured still With his remembrance. Did the night-air calm SCENE i.] The Sons of Godwin. 155 Your fevered pulse ? dissolve the cloudy spell Of the enchanter, Memory? GURTH. Not so ; Too still the night : its solemn quiet thrills, Not calms me. High in mid-heaven the moon shines full, But pale her beams, and pale the stars peep out ; For in the northern sky, blood-red and bright, Flashes our frightful visitant. Methought, As on that red usurper of the night I fixed my eyes, it threatened from the sky Some strange calamity, more dread, alas ! Than this at which we groan. KING HAROLD. It is enough That this red comet sets its fatal sign Upon the heavens to mark our brother's death, Or shines, the doom-star of King Hardrada : What should it more? GURTH. Harold, I know not what ; But when I look upon that lurid star With its broad trail of fire, thus making pale Night's gleaming lights, and flouting the calm moon, 156 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. I feel a threat of yet impending ill. Brother, do you remember Edward's dying cry Of Sanguelac? The fiery star repeats in every ray That warning cry to my unquiet soul. Enter a Messenger in haste. MESSENGER. O King, the Normans are on Sussex' shore Duke William and his host as numberless As are the stars in heaven or the sea-sands. KING HAROLD. This is the peril that the star portends. O Gurth, my soul, prophetic as the star, Hath looked each hour for this. Now, shadows, fly ; The certain presence of the direful fact Scatters your phantoms, fills my heart with strength I Where did the Norman land ? MESSENGER. At Pevensey, My Lord, he disembarked ; the archers first, Then knights and men in mail poured from his ships Till the wide sands glittered with shining steel, As when, a light breeze ruffling its broad breast, The ocean shines with gleam of myriad waves. SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 157 KING HAROLD. Do they bring horse, or are the knight? afoot? MESSENGER. So many steeds were never seen before ; Their neighing sounds tumultuous o'er the sands. KING HAROLD. Give o'er the feast ; muster our host to arms ; We march to-night ; and the red comet's blaze Shall light us on our way. As Norway fell, So shall the Norman. No abiding-place Hath England for the invader but a grave. Exeunt. SCENE II. WALTHAM ABBEY. The chapel. Enter EDITH, and kneels before an image of the Virgin. EDITH. O virgin-mother of Christ crucified, Heal the deep wounds that bleed continual here ; Thou wast a woman, and once loved perchance Oh, pity me, and still my beating heart 1 14 158 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. Rises. I cannot pray as the calm sisters pray With naught but pure devotion in their souls ; My prayers come all too fiery, and offend This holy place with wild, impassioned thoughts. Where is the comfort promised to my breast In tranquil cloister-walls ? I find it not ; But a tumultuous conflict raging here Beyond my power to quell ; no comfort ; pain A fever burning ever in my blood Strange phantasms in my brain ; for oftentimes I see weird figures round me, staring eyes That look on me with cold, unaltering gaze, Seeming so real, they fright me ; but anon They fade away, dissolving like a dream ; And then I know these phantoms have their life In the hot brain of fever. Why, alas ! May I not feel the calm and still content Of duty done so loyally and wisely ? Wisely ? Yes yes ; to think it was not wise To give him up, were madness, now 'tis done. They told me there would come a holy peace Here in my heart when I was wed to Heaven Why comes it not? why must I think of him, When now to think is sin ? I strive to pray, But mid my prayers comes up his kingly face, SCENE ii.] The Sons of Godwin. 159 And his upbraiding eyes are fixed on me Till prayers are changed to deep, heart-heaving sighs. Why can I not forget ? These walls are cold ; The marble floor is chill ; but yet I burn. Oh, would that I were cold as this cold stone, As senseless too ! I must still think of him. Enter the ABBESS. ABBESS. Prayest thou, sister Edith, for our land And those who fight against the heathen host, Blind worshipers of Odin and of Thor? EDITH. I pray for peace. ABBESS. Pray to the saints, my child, That all the land may have such holy peace As clothes us, sisters, in these cloisters sweet. EDITH. Mother, to duty I have yielded me, But peace comes not ; I pray for it in vain. ABBESS. No peace in your pure heart child, why is this? 160 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. EDITH. I am not pure ; I cannot tear my thoughts From the remembrance of the world I've left. ABBESS. Pray pray, my child ; 'tis prayer that cureth all Enter a priest in haste. Why do you come in such unseemly haste ? PRIEST. The Archbishop bids you and your holy nuns Send up your prayers to Heaven's high throne of grace To shield the land from peril most extreme. From Normandy a vast, Philistine host Hath come upon our shores ; the king in haste Hurries to Sussex with the wearied bands Which late he led in battle with fierce Norway ; Spent with sore marches and the recent battle, His army is much wasted. Pray, O nuns, For never yet came peril to our land So great as this ; except the angels fight Upon our side, there is no hope of help For England else. Then raise your solemn prayers, O holy nuns, your supplications make To Heaven's benignant saints. SCENE IL] The Sons of Godwin. 161 ABBESS. Alas, alas, that man should still slay man ! Go, priest, and bid them ring the Abbey bells ; I haste to call our sisters unto prayer. Exeunt ABBESS and priest. EDITH. What said the priest ? Harold is on his march To meet a great Philistine host from Normandy, And England needs the prayers of priest and nun In her great peril ? Oh, away, black doubts ! Why do you come, with whispers in my ears, Foretelling Harold's death ? Alas, my soul, This is a shadow blacker than the night Surrounding you ! his death I cannot rest ; I cannot pray ; I think alone of Harold ; I feel his doom here in my poor, lone breast That once was gay with happy love for him Still do I sin, a nun, to think of love j I still remember when I should forget. Harold, if I could but see you once, Once more ere death shall join or sunder us, 1 might die happy ! why should I stay here ? They told me peace would come, and it comes not. I know that I must die ; why may I not Look once again on Harold ere I die? L 14* 1 62 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. If it be sin, I cannot help but sin, For I must think of him Yes, I will go While now confusion so disturbs the Abbey That none will think of me. Kneels at the crucifix. I sought for peace Here at thy feet, O holy Son of Him Who made all human hearts, all woes, all pains And life for sacrifice ; but found it not : Then pardon if I wander forth alone To look upon his face again and die ! Kisses the crucifix, Pardon oh, pardon for this last, great sin ! EDITH lays down her head at the foot of the cru- cifix. SCENE III. SENLAC. The camp of the English before the king's tent. Even- ing. Soldiers and HUGH MARGOT. Enter the KING, EARL GURTH, and ARCHBISHOPS of YORK and CANTERBURY. SOLDIER to HUGH MARGOT. Kneel to the king. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 163 MARGOT. Soldier, unto no king, Except the King of heaven, Hugh Margot kneels. I come to Harold from the Norman camp ; Thus saith Duke William : " To fair Normandy Earl Harold came as guest, and swore an oath At Edward's death to be Duke William's man, And place him on this throne. The Duke hath come To take his throne ; let Harold give the help That he hath sworn." KING HAROLD. Go tell the wolf, your master, Although his scheme goes on, and you have brought This, my denial, as he looks to have it, A Saxon king awaits him sword in hand ; So let him cast away the fox's hide Whose mask hath served his purpose long enough, And come with wolfish visage plain in view To take the advantage that his craft hath won. Of broken oaths, say this to him : in his trap Was Harold caught, and took to save himself A lawful means when life thus stands in peril Such oath as was prescribed ; that oath the church Hath since annulled ; 'twas void, because compelled, Without the help of church ; nor rests with Harold 164 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. The power to give away this island crown ; 'Tis not a thing to toss from hand to hand, But rests securely fixed upon his head The witan chooseth. MARGOT. These are empty words ; I come not here to learn your country's laws, But to demand of you in William's name Your solemn oath and this your stolen crown. KING HAROLD. Insolent priest ! but for your g'own and cowl You should be scourged back to the Norman camp. We do refuse ; he shall not have the crown Till from these shoulders he hath hacked the head, And pltfcked its circle from a dead king's helm. MARGOT. The Duke, anticipating such deceit And the perfidious voiding of your oath, Gives this last choice : first, to retain the crown, His greatest vassal ; second, to the Pope Refer your cause ; or third, the high appeal To Heaven by single battle with the Duke. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 165 KING HAROLD. Our cause we leave with Heaven, but will not stand Like one accused of crime to champion it With single might ; nor wear a vassal crown ; Nor bow us to the policy of Rome : But at the head of England's loyal hearts Will meet the Duke. If God will have it so, Then William may be king; but not until King Death hath made a subject of King Harold. MARGOT. Thus ends my mission from the Norman Duke : He sends you his defiance, and will come With sword and spear to take your crown to-morrow. Now stand I forth the chosen messenger Of one more high than he. Pope Alexander Sends thus to Harold : keep your sacred oath, Sworn upon holy relics of the saints, With due obedience as a hallowed thing, The which to break, were foulest sacrilege, Rank disobedience to the church and God, Or on your guilty head he bids me place The anathema of church ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Priest, stay your words ; 1 66 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. His holiness knows not that this rash oath Hath been absolved by church, due penance paid, And thus the sin atoned. MARGOT. And who art thou, A bishop to oppose the head of church, To cast contempt upon the holy saints, To absolve the vows upon their relics sworn Without due sanction and the seal of Rome ? Thy act is void ; it doth recoil on thee ; Beware ! for so thou shar'st with him the doom Pronounced by Rome. To KING HAROLD. If from this hour you dare, O Harold, wage with Heaven an impious war, Upon such act is set a curse, whose blight Will wither up your crown as perisheth A leaf in autumn, or some useless scroll Lapped by red tongues of hungry furnace flames. Nor you alone, but all who hold with you, Friends, kindred yea, the realm that calls you king KING HAROLD. Now, by Saint Swithin ! priest, you pluck the stars Upon your head. My guards. Unless immortal, SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 167 Call on Saint Peter; you will need his help To draw your cowled head from the lion's jaws. Soldiers come forward and surround HUGH MARCOT. Strip off this caitiff's gown. MARGOT. What will you do ? KING HAROLD. Hang you upon a tree, and send your ears To your two masters. GURTH. Brother, it is a priest, And you, a king. 'Twould sully you to harm him. Let him go free ; he is beneath your anger. Your kingly scorn will carry shame to them That stooped so low to send this creature hither With base attack upon your majesty ; Another snare by crafty cunning set. KING HAROLD, to soldiers. Take him away, and thrust him from our lines. MARGOT. Saint Peter's help ! GURTH. Silence, audacious priest. Soldiers take away HUGH MARGOT. 1 68 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. Thus Rome, allied with William, lends its strength To the invader's arm ; but Rome is not the church. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. That is, or not, as William wins or fails : He is the new apostle, with whose sword May yet be writ the mandates of the church. KING HAROLD. They tell me, bishops, in the Norman host Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux, in mail Will lead Duke William's iron cavalry ; What say you: may we strike a bishop's helm? ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Yes, when the helmet hides the mitred cap. GURTH. My liege, both as a liegeman and a brother I offer counsel, which I pray you heed ; For in my voice the heart of England speaks, Your army and your nation. Leave this field ; Return to London ; levy there fresh troops To fight, if Senlac's lost, another field ; Leave, my dear king, to-morrow's fate with me. SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 169 Your practiced eye hath marked these marshaled lines Stretched far beyond our own. Who knows the end ? If Heaven and Fate decree to-morrow's sun Shall shine on victor William, let that sun Still gild the evening with a ray of hope, Not set on England, kingless. Senlac lost, Around the king will rally English hearts, And Norman victory bind William's brows With thorny chaplet, not with England's crown ; For still before his march will armies spring, As sprang to life in Greece the dragon's teeth And fighting men are England's dragon's teeth. So may you save our land, whatever chance Falls on this field of Senlac ; but your death Will give our country to the Norman's sword; Nor Danish valor, nor our Saxon strength, Avail for aught but sacrifice of life. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. My liege, I think your brother's counsel wise ; Hazard not all upon to-morrow's chance. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. My counsel joins with Aldred's and brave Gurth's. KING HAROLD. No. Though there seems a specious policy In such advice, 'tis a deceitful seeming. H 15 170 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v, Shall England's king be first to fly the field, Setting such base example ? 'Twere enough To throw disheartenment upon our host ; And every Saxon cheek within our lines Yes, in all England from the sea to sea Would burn with shame to hear of such a flight. Bishops, when on my head you placed the crown I swore my arm should smite the invader's helm : Thus you would have me break another oath, That men may point at me in holy scorn, And name me the Oath-breaker I, who sought To add to Godwin's name a greater glory, Thus tarnish all the honors of the past. Brave Gurth, I know the greatness of your heart, How bravely you would go to death for me, Would fight this battle against any odds It must not be ; Senlac to me is fate : So speak no more of flight. GURTH. One reason more : Harold, although your oath was plucked from you By shameful fraud, yet it was greatly sworn ; And on it rests Duke William's strongest claim Be/ore the world and church. The church hath sent Rome's gonfanon, Saint Peter's priest-blessed flag, Beneath whose folds the Norman robber stands ; SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 171 All this machinery of subtle Rome Were forceless, if arrayed against our land, Not Harold. Though in Heaven's clear-seeing view His heart is spotless, yet in eyes of men, Whose ears have been deceived by crafty tales, Our king is branded with a perjury, So stamped by the pontifical seal of Rome. KING HAROLD. Still more the reason that I keep the field ; To fly were to confess my oath yet binds, And strengthen William's fraud. Our cause is just : For Saxon liberty we stand arrayed As stood three-hundred at Thermopylae Against rapacity and robber-greed ; If with the robber now is joined the church, Upon the church must fall the deep disgrace Of such alliance ; and all honest hearts Are thus absolved from use of ancient homage. The church was made for man, to lift his soul By prayer and precept to the light of heaven ; While thus it elevates, our duty, love And calm obedience are its rightful dues ; But when ambition mounts Saint Peter's chair To hold a temporal sceptre over men, Dimming the native light within their souls, And making superstition the false coin 172 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. With which to purchase power and luxury, Then doth a demon take the apostle's place, And grin sardonic o'er obedience blind. If aught descended from our sires of old Is dear, that heritage is liberty ; And who would rob us of our ancient rights An enemy, whatever garb he wear, Whether he come clad in the Norman's steel, Or with black gown, shorn head and sandaled foot. Enter GUTHLAC. My faithful thane, what of Earl Morkar's force? GUTHLAC. It stays at London still, for some equipments, Full ranks, for certain chiefs, for this and that. I told the Earl your need, urged instant march : He put me off a while ; but, when I clamored, Bade me go forward and report his march Within three days. KING HAROLD. Within three days ! O Fate, Whate'er thou hast for England, woe or weal, Concealed in thy dark bosom, shall be known When sinks to-morrow's sun ! We cannot wait For tardy Morkar. Were old Siward living, * Here had he stood, and, ready at his call, SCENE in.] The Sons of Godwin. 173 Around us had been camped Northumbria. Well, be it as it is. My friends, to rest : At dawn the Norman will attack our lines ; Our plan of battle is to hold these heights, And keep compact and close our firm array, Which, like a wedge, stretches along the hill. We need not fear the Norman cavalry While we can keep our lines; I've fought in France, And know their horse will not ride down the spears. Good-night : to which may come a happy morrow. Exeunt all but the KING and GURTH. Gurth, should the Norman still delay attack, And Morkar come, the chance would count for us. No one, like you, can urge his tardy steps To quicker motion ; you must ride to-night, And bring this brother-in-law of ours along; I give you but two days. GURTH. Two days too much. I will not quit the field, let Morkar come Or stay ; after to-morrow is too late. Brother, good-night. KING HAROLD. Good-night. They clasp hands, then part, but turn again. 15* 174 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. GURTH. My brother ! KING HAROLD. Brother ! They embrace tenderly. Exeunt. SCENE IV. SENLAC. Within the English lines. Morning. Alarums. Enter MOLLO, armed, and soldiers. MOLLO. I grow to greater valor every hour ; It only needs the practice of the field To be a hero. When the Normans charged I felt a something tempting me to run, But shut my eyes, and manfully kept place Fast in the ranks : now, my first tremblings over, And it is said all men feel fear at first, I am as brave as Arthur. Practice practice It makes the hero, poet, minstrel, statesman. Though inclination did not bring me here, Yet, being here, in faith I'll win a garland Arrows fall about him. SCENE iv.] The Sons of Godwin. 175 Only these flying arrows set me back. If one should hit? Saint Cuthbert! where were Mollo? Instead of garland I may get an arrow ; I'll try make shift to do without them both. Loud cries and alarums. Lo ! all the Normans now have turned their backs To the soldiers. Down on them, soldiers ; give them hot pursuit ; Come, friends. Cries of Holy Rood, and clash of arms. FIRST SOLDIER. Our orders are to keep the lines. MOLLO. To keep the lines ! how may we win a battle If we shall keep the lines? SECOND SOLDIER. That's very true. FIRST SOLDIER. The time to charge is when the word is given ; 'Tis the young soldier's fault to be in haste : I followed our brave king, when he was earl, Through the Welsh wars, and know the rules of MM \ ! e. 176 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. MOLLO. See how our comrades break their ranks, and charge ; If we stay longer we shall stay alone. SECOND SOLDIER. See how they strike the Normans ; let us go. FIRST SOLDIER. I like not this ; and doubt it will end well. MOLLO. We stay too long cry Holy Rood, and charge. MOLLO and soldiers charge, crying England! Holy Rood! SCENE V. ON THE HIGH GROUND BEHIND THE FIELD OF SENLAC. Saxon women kneeling at a stone cross. On the left, ARCHBISHOPS ALDRED and STIGAND and priests ; on the right, EDITH, her face covered with her black nuris hood. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. The Saxon line no longer crowns the ridge ; I miss the glitter of its shields and spears ; SCENE v.] The Sons of Godwin. 177 They have descended on the Norman host ; Pray God they drive it to the sea. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. Amen. Yet 'twere a miracle; I dare not hope it. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Although the Norman host outnumber ours Threefold, yet number is but an element In this great problem of a nation's fate. ARCHBISHOP STIGAND. Yonder is worked the fate of men, not nations: King Harold vanquished, slain, the wrath of Rome Against the perjurer is quenched by death ; The Pope withdraws Saint Peter's gonfanon ; Duke William fights the ^Etheling's adherents, And in the end right vanquisheth the wrong : The rightful king shall sit on England's throne. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. Short-sighted man ! see you no more than this? Mark me : behind yon ridge that bars our sight Rome fights for empire over all the land ; William and Normandy are but the tools 4* M i/8 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. Of an ambition, to the which their own Is a faint mimicry. These fight for self, Lucre, estates, place, luxury and greed ; Rome fights for rule over the human mind, An intellectual throne, on which may sit Her pontiff, and direct the subject world As Latin Jove upon Olympus sat. Brother, the men are playthings of the hour, They rise and fall as Fortune's wheel goes round ; But o'er mankind moves on a larger wheel, Developing from embryos in the present Men and their puny acts the future's fate. On Harold's helm sits Saxon liberty, The dearest right of man to be a man Himself the pilot of his voyage of life. Pray for it, priest, or live to mourn its loss. Enter a priest. How goes the field ? PRIEST. Alas ! no longer well. When first the Norman stormed the English line, Down went his ranks beneath the Saxon axe, And everywhere repelled were driven back With much confusion, disarray and loss ; Again and still again, with lines reformed, SCENE v.] The Sons of Godwin. 179 Duke William led them on, still to recoil From the long swing of the great Saxon axe; But ever, bringing death upon their points, Fell on our lines the Norman archers' shafts. As stinging wasps drive the slow ox to frenzy, So our men Were driven at last by this fast-falling death To break their ranks, and follow on the foe As he once more recoiled. A fatal charge, for which throughout the day The Norman Duke had watched ; he gave the word ; On came his horsemen, met our broken lines, And rode them down. Then Gurth and Leofwine Sought to bring back this van into the ranks Of those who stayed fast by the palisades. Our two brave Earls charged through the struggling mass Till down before them on the bloody field Fell the great Duke and his bold bishop-brother, To whose quick rescue came a thousand knights And sore beset the Earls. Then charged King Harold with a chosen few Deep in the mingled ranks that closed on him As closes ocean on the tribute flood A rapid river gives the gulping sea. Upon the English heights all hearts were hushed In dread anxiety to know the fate i8o The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. Of half the host and their heroic king. At length, by dint of prowess, from the mass Of mingled combatants and flashing arms, As breaks the moon through black and stormy clouds, Won back the sons of Godwin with a part, A little part, of all Who left their station on the guarded heights. But when I left the field the Norman host Had charged again, and on the left broke through The weakened lines ; the chance is now against us. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. How fares the king ? EDITH presses forward, and lifts the hood from her face in great eagerness to hear the answer. PRIEST. King Harold fights on foot In the front rank where danger presseth most ; The valor and the might of his brave line Show on his kingly front. Before his axe Go down the Normans as a field of corn Falls by the reaper's steel ; no Norman knight Hath crossed his path and come unharmed away. The soldiers catch an inspiration from him, Send loud along their line his battle-cry SCENE vi.] The Sons of Godwin. 181 Of " England ! Holy Crosse !" upon his helm Glitters the golden circle of a king ; The mark of many arrows, harmed by none, He strides through perils as his life were charmed, And seems the guardian god of England's realm. ARCHBISHOP ALDRED. O holy saints, shield him for England's sake! EDITH, touching her head. Alas ! I cannot think ; I see and hear, But in my brain a roaring like the sea That deafens thought, while something whispers me, A startling, frighting whisper, clearly heard Through all the tumult of my dizzy head, To-night to-night to-night. Exeunt. SCENE VI. THE BATTLE-FIELD. Under the kings standard. Evening. Enter KINO HAROLD and EARL GURTH, meeting; their armor defaced and bloody. KING HAROLD. England is lost ! O Gurth, our England's lost ! 16 1 82 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. GURTH. This field of Senlac is not England, Harold. You have done all a valiant king can do Giving the invader battle on the shore ; Duty now calls you to collect again The men of England ; let each rising ground, Each river-bank, be made a battle-field, On which the Norman must fight o'er this day. KING HAROLD. It is in vain. At me misfortune points. All England bears calamity for me ; Takes it at second-hand because of me. All I have left to give my country now Is the example of a kingly death ; That service Fate is powerless to prevent. From hollow skulls the pitiless saints mock at me, While by their fleshless arms is England scourged, Aiming at me. I can at least end this ; By death at once avert from my dear land Their angry blows. I owe my country this. GURTH. My brother and my king, this gloomy day Hath so disheartened your heroic soul Your wisdom falters too. SCENE vi.] The Sons of Godwin. 183 KING HAROLD. What is there left ? This ri(*ge of hill is piled with Saxons slain ; England's brave sons were faithful even to death : Here lie the men of Sussex, Wessex, Kent, Anglia and Mercia all stout hearts; no foot Would fly, no hand relax its grasp of sword Or axe see how they gripe in their dead hands Their weapons. Gurth, I led them to this field ; I set them here, the prey of greedy death ; If, for I am accursed, these men have died, What frightful punishment for broken oaths 1 GURTH. This is not so ; they fought as through the past Their sires have met Norwegian, Celt, or Dane, Whatever foe has landed on our shores ; They died, as died their sires, defending England. KING HAROLD. O Gurth, I am accursed ; they died for me I GURTH. No more for you tnan for all Englishmen. 1 84 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. KING HAROLD. I sought to serve thee, England, but, alas ! I have destroyed thee ! So I am guilty, guiltless of this blood Here's my last stand ; Here, underneath my warrior-flag, I stay ; For, if I cannot conquer, I can die. GURTH. A useless sacrifice. The field is lost ; Then husband life to fight a fairer field. KING HAROLD. Shall Tostig show more valor in his end, Or Hardrada, the champion of the North, Who paid the forfeit of defeat with death, Than I? O Gurth, 'twere base in me, a king, To fly the field where I have led to death The bravest and the best of all the land. How could I meet our mother, leaving here On this sad field my brother Leofwine, His smiling brow defaced by bloody death ? No no ; the only kingly act now left, The fitting end of my disastrous reign, Brave death ; so will a golden lustre gild Through black calamities my fatal crown, SCENE vi.] The Sons of Godwin. 185 To your brave conduct I bequeath the war ; No frowning saints will mutter round your head ; Your hands are clean and strong dear Gurth, farewell. GURTH. I am enamored too of glorious Death. KING HAROLD. Both as your king and as your elder brother I bid you leave me for our mother's sake Leave her at least one son. GURTH. When I shall say, "I left King Harold on the field of Senlac To fight alone beneath his warrior-flag," What welcome will she give me ? KING HAROLD. Bravest of men and faithfulest of brothers ! Despair, make room within my heart for lovej A brother's love disputes the place with you, And gilds departing life with rosy tints ! KING HAROLD and GURTH embrace. This soil of Sussex was our cradle, Gurth, 16* 1 86 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. And here must be our grave; but Godwin's sons Shall live in story, if, in Saxon England, Survives the legend of her liberty. Alarums. GURTH. Come, brother, come, And charge the Normans two against a host. KING HAROLD. England and Edith, take my last farewell. Ho ! England ! England ! Holy Crosse ! Alarums. KING HAROLD and GURTH charge. SCENE VII. THE BATTLE-FIELD. Night. The bodies of the slain lying under the light of the stars. Enter two priests with torches, and EDITH searching among the corpses of the slain for that of KING HAROLD. FIRST PRIEST. Brother, in pity shall we still go on, Or take her hence ? SCENE VIL] The Sons of Godwin. 187 SECOND PRIEST. In her insanity Perhaps she would not know King Harold's body If chance should bring her to it. FIRST PRIEST. I think she would. SECOND PRIEST. See here what piles of slain ; here died at bay Some mighty English hearts. How ghastly seems Death on the battle-field ! no glory gilds These mangled ones ; yet here perhaps they died As gloriously as Curtius when he leaped Into the yawning chasm. Here they fought on, Hopeless of victory or saving life, No eye to mark their valor, and no tongue To tell how gloriously they fell EDITH raises the head of the dead king. EDITH. Light! light! 'Tis he ! 'tis he ! Mine mine at last ! mine now And to eternity ! Death, thou art feared As one who bringeth sorrow ; but to me Thou bring'st a bridegroom and eternal joy ! O Harold ! Harold ! Harold ! EDITH falls on the body of KING HAROLD. 1 88 The Sons of Godwin. [ACT v. FIRST PRIEST. Unloose her hands I think it is the king. SECOND PRIEST. 'Tis he indeed. They unclasp EDITH'S arms from the dead king, and raise her up. She faints. FIRST PRIEST. She's dead. SECOND PRIEST. So soon ? God give her poor, crazed mind the sweet of rest. FIRST* PRIEST. Amen. Tableau. THE END. [*