ALDRED. It shall be granted him, my king; for he Who vows a vow to strangle his own mother Is guiltier keeping this, than breaking it. EDWARD. O friends, I shall not overlive the day. STIGAND. Why then the throne is empty. Who inherits? For tho' we be not bound by the king's voice In making of a king, yet the king's voice Is much toward his making. Who inherits? Edgar the Atheling? EDWARD. No, no, but Harold. I love him: he hath served me: none but he Can rule all England. Yet the curse is on him For swearing falsely by those blessed bones; He did not mean to keep his vow. HAROLD. Not mean To make our England Norman. EDWARD. There spake Godwin, Who hated all the Normans; but their Saints Have heard thee, Harold. EDITH. Oh! my lord, my king! He knew not whom he sware by. EDWARD. Yea, I know He knew not, but those heavenly ears have heard, Their curse is on him; wilt thou bring another, Edith, upon his head? EDITH. No, no, not I. EDWARD. Why then, thou must not wed him. HAROLD. Wherefore, wherefore? EDWARD. O son, when thou didst tell me of thine oath, I sorrow'd for my random promise given To yon fox-lion. I did not dream then I should be king.--My son, the Saints are virgins; They love the white rose of virginity, The cold, white lily blowing in her cell: I have been myself a virgin; and I sware To consecrate my virgin here to heaven-- The silent, cloister'd, solitary life, A life of life-long prayer against the curse That lies on thee and England. HAROLD. No, no, no. EDWARD. Treble denial of the tongue of flesh, Like Peter's when he fell, and thou wilt have To wail for it like Peter. O my son! Are all oaths to be broken then, all promises Made in our agony for help from heaven? Son, there is one who loves thee: and a wife, What matters who, so she be serviceable In all obedience, as mine own hath been: God bless thee, wedded daughter. [_Laying his hand on the_ QUEEN'S _head_. QUEEN. Bless thou too That brother whom I love beyond the rest, My banish'd Tostig. EDWARD. All the sweet Saints bless him! Spare and forbear him, Harold, if he comes! And let him pass unscathed; he loves me, Harold! Be kindly to the Normans left among us, Who follow'd me for love! and dear son, swear When thou art king, to see my solemn vow Accomplish'd. HAROLD. Nay, dear lord, for I have sworn Not to swear falsely twice. EDWARD. Thou wilt not swear? HAROLD. I cannot. EDWARD. Then on thee remains the curse, Harold, if thou embrace her: and on thee, Edith, if thou abide it,-- [_The_ KING _swoons;_ EDITH _falls and kneels by the couch_. STIGAND. He hath swoon'd! Death?... no, as yet a breath. HAROLD. Look up! look up! Edith!