Part 57 (1/2)

EDITH. --chosen by his people And fighting for his people!

STIGAND. There is one Come as Goliath came of yore--he flings His brand in air and catches it again, He is chanting some old warsong.

EDITH. And no David To meet him?

STIGAND. Ay, there springs a Saxon on him, Falls--and another falls.

EDITH. Have mercy on us!

STIGAND. Lo! our good Gurth hath smitten him to the death.

EDITH. So perish all the enemies of Harold!

CANONS (_singing_).

Hostis in Angliam Ruit praedator, Illorum, Domine, Scutum scindatur!

Hostis per Angliae Plagas bacchatur; Casa crematur, Pastor fugatur Grex trucidatur--

STIGAND. Illos trucida, Domine.

EDITH. Ay, good father.

CANONS (_singing_).

Illorum scelera Poena sequatur!

ENGLISH CRIES. Harold and Holy Cross! Out! out!

STIGAND. Our javelins Answer their arrows. All the Norman foot Are storming up the hill. The range of knights Sit, each a statue on his horse, and wait.

ENGLISH CRIES. Harold and G.o.d Almighty!

NORMAN CRIES. Ha Rou! Ha Rou!

CANONS (_singing_).

Eques c.u.m pedite Praepediatur!

Illorum in lacrymas Cruor fundatur!

Pereant, pereant, Anglia precatur.

STIGAND. Look, daughter, look.

EDITH. Nay, father, look for me!

STIGAND. Our axes lighten with a single flash About the summit of the hill, and heads And arms are sliver'd off and splinter'd by Their lightning--and they fly--the Norman flies.

EDITH. Stigand, O father, have we won the day?

STIGAND. No, daughter, no--they fall behind the horse-- Their horse are thronging to the barricades; I see the gonfanon of Holy Peter Floating above their helmets--ha! he is down!

EDITH. He down! Who down?

STIGAND. The Norman Count is down.