Here fell the truest, manliest hearts of

(TO MALET.) England.

Knowest thou this other ? Go further hence and find him.

Malet. When I visited England Aldwyth.

She is crazed!

Some held she was his wife in secretEdith. That doth not matter either.

someLower the light.

Well-some believed she was his para. He must be here.


Edith. Norman, thou liest! liars all Enter two Canons Osgos and ATHEL

of you, RIC, with torches. They turn over Your Saints and all! I am his wife! the dead bodies and examine them as and shethey pass.

For look, our marriage ring!
Osgod. I think that this is Thurkill. (She draws it of the finger of
Athelric. More likely Godric.

I am sure this body

I lost it somehow, Is Alfwig, the king's uncle.

| I lost it, playing with it when I was Athelric.


So it is! No, no-brave Gurth, one gash from That bred the doubt : but I am wiser brow to knee!

now... Osgod. And here is Leofwin. I am too wise ... Will none among Edith.

And here is He!! you all Aldwyth. Harold? Oh no-nay, if | Bear me true witness--only for this it were-my God,

once They have so maim'd and martyr'd all | That I wave found it here again ? his face

[She puts it on. There is no man can swear to him.

And thou, · Edith.

But one woman ! | Thy wife am I forever and evermore. Look you, we never mean to part

[Falls on the body and dies.

William. Death!-and enough of again. I have found him, I am happy. Was there not some one ask'd me for | The day of St. Calixtus, and the day.

| My day, when I was born. I yield it freely, being the true wife

Malet. And this dead king's, Of this dead King, who never bore re

| Who, king or not, hath kinglike fought venge.

and fallen,

His birthday, too. It seems but Enter Count WILLIAM and WILLIAM yester-even MALET.

I held it with him in his English halls,

His day, with all his rooftree ringing William. Who be these women?

“ Harold," And what body is this?

Before he fell into the snare of Guy ; Edith. Harold, thy better !

| When all men Counted Harold would William. Ay, and what art thou ? | be king, Edith. His wife?

And Harold was most happy. Malet. Not true, my girl, here is the | William. Thou art half English.

Queen! (Pointing out ALDWYTH. Take them away! William (to ALDWYTH). Wast thou | Malet, I vow to build a church to God his Queen ?

Here on this hill of battle ; let our Aldwyth. I was the Queen of Wales. high altar William. Why then of England. Stand where their standard fell ... Madam, fear us not.

where these two lie.

. forgiveness and one ask'd me for | The data for this one day, "hough of

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Take them away, I do not love to see Three horses had I slain beneath me: · them.

twice Pluck the dead. woman off the dead I thought that all was lost. Since I man, Maleti

knew battle, . Malet. Faster than ivy. Must I hack And that was from my boyhood, never her arms off ?

yet How shall I part them?

No, by the splendor of God-have I William. Leave them. Let them fought men be!

Like Harold and his brethern, and his Bury him and his paramour together. guard

[king He that was false in oath to me, it Of English. Every man about his seems

Fell where he stood.' They loved him : Was false to his own wife. We will and, pray God not give him

My Normans may but move as true A Christian burial : yet he was a war with me rior,

To the door of death. Of one selfAnd wise, yea truthful, till that stock at first, blighted vow

Make them again one people-NorWhich God avenged to-day.

man, English; Wrap them together in a purple cloak And English, Norman ;--we should And lay them both upon the waste have a hand seashore

To grasp the world with, and a foot to At Hastings, there to guard the land stamp it.... for which

Flat. Praise the Saints. It is over. He did forswear himself—a warrior I No more blood ! av,

I am King of Engiand, so they thwart And but that Holy Peter fought for me not, us,

| And I will rule according to their And that the false Northumbrian held aloof,

(TO ALDWYTH.) And save for that chance arrow which Madam, we will entreat thee with all the saints

honor. Sharpen'd and sent against him-whol Aldwyth. My punishment is more can tell ?

than I can bear.




Ar Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay,
And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far away
“ Spanish ships of war at sea ! we have sighted fifty-three !"
Then sware Lord Thomas Howard : “'Fore God I am no coward!
But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are'out of gear,
And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow quick.
We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty-three ?"


Then spake Sir Richard Grenville : “I know you are no coward;
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again.
But I've ninety men or inore that are lying sick ashore
I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard.
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain.”

So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day,
Till he melted like a doud in the silent summer heaven; T ,
But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the land
Very carefully and slow,
Men of Bideford in Devon,
And we laid them on the ballast down below;
For we brought them all aboard,
And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left to Spain,
To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the Lord.


He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight,
And he sail'd away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight,
With his huge sea-castles heaving upon the weather bow.
“Shall we fight or shall we fly?
Good Sir Richard, let us know,
For to fight is but to die !
There'll be little of us left by the time the sun be set."
And Sir Richard said again : “ We be all good Englishmen.
Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil,
For I never turn'd my back upon Don or devil yet.”


Sir Richard spoke, and he laugh'd, and we roared a hurrah, and so
The little “ Revenge” ran on sheer into the heart of the foe,
With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick below;
For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left were seen,
And the little “Revenge ” ran on thro' the long sea-lane between.


Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their decks and laugh'd,
Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad little craft
Running on and on, till delay'd
By their mountain-like “San Philip” that, of fifteen hundred tons,
And up-shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers of guns,
Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd.

VII. And while now the great “San Philip "hung above us like a cloud Whence the thunderbolt will fall Long and loud,

Four galleons drew away
From the Spanish fleet that day,
And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay
And the battle-thunder broke from them all.


But anon the great “San Philip, she bethought herself and went,
Having that within her womb that had left her ill-content;
And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand,
For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqueteers,
And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears
When he leaps from the water to the land.


And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea,
But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came,
Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder and flame;
Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead and er shame;
For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so could fight us no more-
God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before?

For he said, “Fight on ! fight on!”
Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck;
And it chanced that, when half of the summer night was gone,
With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck,
But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead,
And himself he was wounded again in the side and the head,
And he said, “Fight on! fight on!”

XI. And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far over the summer sea, And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all in a ring; But they dared not touch us again, for they fear'd that we still could sting, So they watch'd what the end would be. And we had not fought them in vain, But in perilous plight were we, Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, And half of the rest of us maim'd for life In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife ; And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all of it spent; And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side ; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men! And a day less or more At sea or shore,

We die-does it matter when?
Sink me the ship, Master Gunner-sink her, split her in twain !
Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain !.”

And the gunner said, “Ay, ay," but the seamen made reply:
“ We have children, we have wives,
And the Lord hath spared our lives.
We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let us go;
We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow"
And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe.


And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then,
Where hey laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last,
And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace;
But he rose upon their decks, and he cried:
“I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true;
I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do:
With a joful spirit I, Sir Richard Grenville, die !"-
And he fell upon their decks, and he died.

XIV. And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap That he dared her with one little ship and his English few; Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew, But they sank his body with honor down into the deep, And they mann'd the « Revenge ” with a swarthier alien crew, And away she sail'd with her loss and long’d for her own; When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot-shatter'd navy of Spain, And the little “Revenge” herself went down by the island crags To be lost evermore in the main.

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