WILLIAM. Who be these women? And what body is this? EDITH. Harold, thy better! WILLIAM. Ay, and what art thou? EDITH. His wife! MALET. Not true, my girl, here is the Queen! [_Pointing out_ ALDWYTH. WILLIAM (_to_ ALDWYTH). Wast thou his Queen? ALDWYTH. I was the Queen of Wales. WILLIAM. Why then of England. Madam, fear us not. (_To_ MALET.) Knowest thou this other? MALET. When I visited England, Some held she was his wife in secret--some-- Well--some believed she was his paramour. EDITH. Norman, thou liest! liars all of you, Your Saints and all! I am his wife! and she-- For look, our marriage ring! [_She draws it off the finger of_ HAROLD. I lost it somehow-- I lost it, playing with it when I was wild. _That_ bred the doubt! but I am wiser now ... I am too wise.... Will none among you all Bear me true witness--only for this once-- That I have found it here again? [_She puts it on_. And thou, Thy wife am I for ever and evermore. [_Falls on the body and dies_. WILLIAM. Death!--and enough of death for this one day, The day of St. Calixtus, and the day, My day when I was born. MALET. And this dead king's Who, king or not, hath kinglike fought and fallen, His birthday, too. It seems but yestereven I held it with him in his English halls, His day, with all his rooftree ringing 'Harold,' Before he fell into the snare of Guy; When all men counted Harold would be king, And Harold was most happy. WILLIAM. Thou art half English Take them away! Malet, I vow to build a church to God Here on the hill of battle; let our high altar Stand where their standard fell ... where these two lie. Take them away, I do not love to see them. Pluck the dead woman off the dead man, Malet! MALET. Faster than ivy. Must I hack her arms off? How shall I part them?