EDITH. What is that whirring sound? STIGAND. The Norman sends his arrows up to Heaven, They fall on those within the palisade! EDITH. Look out upon the hill--is Harold there? STIGAND. Sanguelac--Sanguelac--the arrow--the arrow!--away! SCENE II--FIELD OF THE DEAD. NIGHT. ALDWYTH _and_ EDITH. ALDWYTH. O Edith, art thou here? O Harold, Harold-- Our Harold--we shall never see him more. EDITH. For there was more than sister in my kiss, And so the saints were wroth. I cannot love them, For they are Norman saints--and yet I should-- They are so much holier than their harlot's son With whom they play'd their game against the king! ALDWYTH, The king is slain, the kingdom over-thrown! EDITH. No matter! ALDWYTH. How no matter, Harold slain?-- I cannot find his body. O help me thou! O Edith, if I ever wrought against thee, Forgive me thou, and help me here! EDITH. No matter! ALDWYTH. Not help me, nor forgive me? EDITH. So thou saidest. ALDWYTH. I say it now, forgive me! EDITH. Cross me not! I am seeking one who wedded me in secret. Whisper! God's angels only know it. Ha! What art thou doing here among the dead? They are stripping the dead bodies naked yonder, And thou art come to rob them of their rings! ALDWYTH. O Edith, Edith, I have lost both crown And husband. EDITH. So have I. ALDWYTH. I tell thee, girl, I am seeking my dead Harold. EDITH. And I mine! The Holy Father strangled him with a hair Of Peter, and his brother Tostig helpt; The wicked sister clapt her hands and laugh'd; Then all the dead fell on him. ALDWYTH. Edith, Edith-- EDITH. What was he like, this husband? like to thee? Call not for help from me. I knew him not. He lies not here: not close beside the standard. Here fell the truest, manliest hearts of England. Go further hence and find him. ALDWYTH. She is crazed! EDITH. That doth not matter either. Lower the light. He must be here. _Enter two_ CANONS, OSGOD _and_ ATHELRIC, _with torches. They turn over the dead bodies and examine them as they pass_. OSGOD. I think that this is Thurkill. ATHELRIC. More likely Godric. OSGOD. I am sure this body Is Alfwig, the king's uncle. ATHELRIC. So it is! No, no--brave Gurth, one gash from brow to knee! OSGOD. And here is Leofwin. EDITH. And here is _He!_ ALDWYTH. Harold? Oh no--nay, if it were--my God, They have so maim'd and murder'd all his face There is no man can swear to him. EDITH. But one woman! Look you, we never mean to part again. I have found him, I am happy. Was there not someone ask'd me for forgiveness? I yield it freely, being the true wife Of this dead King, who never bore revenge. _Enter_ COUNT WILLIAM _and_ WILLIAM MALET.