Master Wace, His Chronicle of the Norman Conquest From the Roman De RouWace
History
Master Wace, His Chronicle of the Norman Conquest From the Roman De Rou
Wace
Great Britain -- History -- William I, 1066-1087
Then Harold assembled his kindred, and sent for his friends and other
people, and entered into the king's chamber, taking with him whomsoever
he pleased. An Englishman began to speak first, as Harold had directed
him, and said; "Sire, we sorrow greatly that we are about to lose thee;
and we are much alarmed, and fear that great trouble may come upon us:
yet we cannot lengthen thy life, nor alter thy fate. Each one must die
for himself, and none for another; neither can we cure thee; so that
thou canst not escape death; but dust must return to dust. No heir of
thine remains who may comfort us after thy death. Thou hast lived long,
and art now old, but thou hast had no child, son or daughter; nor hast
thou other heir, who may remain instead of thee to protect and guard us,
and to become king by lineage. On this account the people weep and cry
aloud, and say they are ruined, and that they shall never have peace
again if thou failest them. And in this, I trow, they say truly; for
without a king they will have no peace, and a king they cannot have,
save through thee. Give then thy kingdom in thy lifetime to some one who
is strong enough to maintain us in peace. God grant that none other than
such may be our king! Wretched is a realm, and little worth, when
justice and peace fail; and he who doth not or cannot maintain them, has
little right to the kingdom he hath. Well hast thou lived, well hast
thou done, and well wilt thou do; thou hast ever served God, and wilt be
rewarded of him. Behold the best of thy people, the noblest of thy
friends; all are come to beseech thee, and thou must grant their prayer
before thou goest hence, or thou wilt not see God. All come to
implore thee that Harold may be king of this land. We can give thee no
better advice, and no better canst thou do."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
As soon as he had named Harold, all the English in the chamber cried out
that he said well, and that the king ought to give heed to him. "Sire,"
they said, "if thou dost it not, we shall never in our lives have
peace."
Then the king sat up in his bed, and turned his face to the English
there, and said, "Seignors, you well know, and have ofttimes heard, that
I have given my realm at my death to the duke of Normandy; and as I have
given it, so have some among you sworn that it shall go."
But Harold, who stood by, said, "Whatever thou hast heretofore done,
sire, consent now that I shall be king, and that your land be mine; I
wish for no other title, and want no one to do any thing more for me."
"Harold," said the king, "thou shalt have it, but I know full well that
it will cost thee thy life. If I know any thing of the duke, and the
barons that are with him, and the multitude of people that he can
command, none but God can avail to save thee."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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