EDITH. So perish all the enemies of England! STIGAND. No, no, he hath risen again--he bares his face-- Shouts something--he points onward--all their horse Swallow the hill locust-like, swarming up. EDITH. O God of battles, make his battle-axe keen As thine own sharp-dividing justice, heavy As thine own bolts that fall on crimeful heads Charged with the weight of heaven wherefrom they fall! CANONS (_singing_). Jacta tonitrua Deus bellator! Surgas e tenebris, Sis vindicator! Fulmina, fulmina Deus vastator! EDITH. O God of battles, they are three to one, Make thou one man as three to roll them down! CANONS (_singing_). Equus cum equite Dejiciatur! Acies, Acies Prona sternatur! Illorum lanceas Frange Creator! STIGAND. Yea, yea, for how their lances snap and shiver Against the shifting blaze of Harold's axe! War-woodman of old Woden, how he fells The mortal copse of faces! There! And there! The horse and horseman cannot meet the shield, The blow that brains the horseman cleaves the horse, The horse and horseman roll along the hill, They fly once more, they fly, the Norman flies! Equus cum equite Praecipitatur. EDITH. O God, the God of truth hath heard my cry. Follow them, follow them, drive them to the sea! Illorum scelera Poena sequatur! STIGAND. Truth! no; a lie; a trick, a Norman trick! They turn on the pursuer, horse against foot, They murder all that follow. EDITH. Have mercy on us! STIGAND. Hot-headed fools--to burst the wall of shields! They have broken the commandment of the king! EDITH. His oath was broken--O holy Norman Saints, Ye that are now of heaven, and see beyond Your Norman shrines, pardon it, pardon it, That he forsware himself for all he loved, Me, me and all! Look out upon the battle! STIGAND. They thunder again upon the barricades. My sight is eagle, but the strife so thick-- This is the hottest of it: hold, ash! hold, willow! ENGLISH CRIES. Out, out! NORMAN CRIES. Ha Rou! STIGAND. Ha! Gurth hath leapt upon him And slain him: he hath fallen. EDITH. And I am heard. Glory to God in the Highest! fallen, fallen! STIGAND. No, no, his horse--he mounts another--wields His war-club, dashes it on Gurth, and Gurth, Our noble Gurth, is down! EDITH. Have mercy on us! STIGAND. And Leofwin is down! EDITH. Have mercy on us! O Thou that knowest, let not my strong prayer Be weaken'd in thy sight, because I love The husband of another! NORMAN CRIES. Ha Rou! Ha Rou! EDITH. I do not hear our English war-cry. STIGAND. No. EDITH. Look out upon the battle--is he safe? STIGAND. He stands between the banners with the dead So piled about him he can hardly move. EDITH (_takes up the war-cry_). Out! out! NORMAN CRIES. Ha Rou! EDITH (_cries out_). Harold and Holy Cross! NORMAN CRIES. Ha Rou! Ha Rou!