HAROLD. Bring not thy hollowness On our full feast. Famine is fear, were it but Of being starved. Sit down, sit down, and eat, And, when again red-blooded, speak again; (_Aside_.) The men that guarded England to the South Were scatter'd to the harvest.... No power mine To hold their force together.... Many are fallen At Stamford-bridge ... the people stupid-sure Sleep like their swine ... in South and North at once I could not be. (_Aloud_.) Gurth, Leofwin, Morcar, Edwin! (_Pointing to the revellers_.) The curse of England! these are drown'd in wassail, And cannot see the world but thro' their wines! Leave them! and thee too, Aldwyth, must I leave-- Harsh is the news! hard is our honeymoon! Thy pardon. (_Turning round to his_ ATTENDANTS.) Break the banquet up ... Ye four! And thou, my carrier-pigeon of black news, Cram thy crop full, but come when thou art call'd. [_Exit_ HAROLD. ACT V. SCENE I.--A TENT ON A MOUND, FROM WHICH CAN BE SEEN THE FIELD OF SENLAC. HAROLD, _sitting; by him standing_ HUGH MARGOT _the Monk_, GURTH, LEOFWIN, HAROLD. Refer my cause, my crown to Rome!... The wolf Mudded the brook and predetermined all. Monk, Thou hast said thy say, and had my constant 'No' For all but instant battle. I hear no more. MARGOT. Hear me again--for the last time. Arise, Scatter thy people home, descend the hill, Lay hands of full allegiance in thy Lord's And crave his mercy, for the Holy Father Hath given this realm of England to the Norman. HAROLD. Then for the last time, monk, I ask again When had the Lateran and the Holy Father To do with England's choice of her own king? MARGOT. Earl, the first Christian Caesar drew to the East To leave the Pope dominion in the West He gave him all the kingdoms of the West. HAROLD. So!--did he?--Earl--I have a mind to play The William with thine eyesight and thy tongue. Earl--ay--thou art but a messenger of William. I am weary--go: make me not wroth with thee! MARGOT. Mock-king, I am the messenger of God, His Norman Daniel! Mene, Mene, Tekel! Is thy wrath Hell, that I should spare to cry, Yon heaven is wroth with _thee?_ Hear me again! Our Saints have moved the Church that moves the world, And all the Heavens and very God: they heard-- They know King Edward's promise and thine--thine. HAROLD. Should they not know free England crowns herself? Not know that he nor I had power to promise? Not know that Edward cancell'd his own promise? And for my part therein--Back to that juggler, [_Rising_. Tell him the saints are nobler than he dreams, Tell him that God is nobler than the Saints, And tell him we stand arm'd on Senlac Hill, And bide the doom of God.