A birthday welcome! happy days and many!

One-this!

[They embrace.

Look, I will bear thy blessing into the battle

And front the doom of God.

NORMAN CRIES (heard in the distance).

Ha Rou! Ha Rou!

Enter GURTH.

GURTH.

The Norman moves!

HAROLD.

Harold and Holy Cross!

[Exeunt HAROLD and GURTH.

Enter STIGAND.

STIGAND.

Our Church in arms-the lamb the lion-not

Spear into pruning-hook-the counter way

Cowl, helm; and crozier, battle-axe. Abbot Alfwig,
Leofric, and all the monks of Peterboro'

Strike for the king; but I, old wretch, old Stigand,
With hands too limp to brandish iron-and yet
I have a power-would Harold ask me for it-

I have a power.

EDITH.

What power, holy father?

STIGAND.

Power now from Harold to command thee hence

And see thee safe from Senlac.

EDITH.

I remain!

STIGAND.

Yea, so will I, daughter, until I find

Which way the battle balance. I can see it

From where we stand: and, live or die, I would

I were among them!

CANONS from Waltham (singing without).

Salva patriam

Sancte Pater,

Salva Fili,

Salva Spiritus,

Salva patriam,

Sancta Mater.*

EDITH.

Are those the blessed angels quiring, father?

STIGAND.

No, daughter, but the canons out of Waltham,
The king's foundation, that have follow'd him.

*The a throughout these Latin hymns of mine should be sounded broad, as in "father."

EDITH.

O God of battles, make their wall of shields

Firm as thy cliffs, strengthen their palisades!

What is that whirring sound?

STIGAND.

The Norman arrow!

EDITH.

Look out upon the battle-is he safe?

STIGAND.

The king of England stands between his banners. He glitters on the crowning of the hill.

God save king Harold!

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.

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

EDITH.

So perish all the enemies of Harold!