bends before his spear,
She rises from the shock,
Wielding her own in air.

"Hard as the thunder doth she drive it on;
Keen wit, cross muffled, guides it to his crown;
His long sharp spear, his spreading shield are goe;
He falls, and falling rolleth thousands down."

A short prologue by Master William Canning, informs us that this tragedy
of Godwin was designed to vindicate the Kentish earl's memory from
prejudices raised against him by monkish writers, who had mistaken his
character, and accused him of ungodliness "for that he gifted not the
church." There are but three scenes in the play. In the first, Godwin
and Harold confer together on the distressed state of the nation, and
the weakness of the king, whose court is overrun with Norman favourites
to the exclusion of the English knights, and the great oppression of the
people. Harold, young and impetuous, is for instant rebellion; but the
father tries to moderate his rage, recommending patience and calm
preparation.

"_Godwin_.--What tidings from the king?
_Harold_.-- His Normans know.
_Godwin_.--What tidings of the people?
_Harold_.--Still murmuring at their fate, still to the king
They roll their troubles like a surging sea.
Has England, then, a tongue but not a sting?
Do all complain, yet will none righted be?
_Godwin_.--Await the time when God will send us aid.
_Harold_.--Must we, then, drowse away the weary hours?
I'll free my country, or I'll die in fight.
_Godwin_.--But let us wait until some season fit.
_My_ Kentishmen, _thy_ Somertons shall rise,
Their prowess warmer for the cloak of wit,
Again the argent horse shall prance in skies."

An allusion, says Chatterton, to the arms of Kent, a horse salient,
argent. As to the cloak of wit, it may possibly be preserved in
Somersetshire; but the mantle certainly was not tied as an indefeasible
heirloom over the broad shoulders of the county of Kent. No ancient
Saxons, or even Britons, ever displayed prowess so stolid as those brave
wild-wood savages of Boughton Blean, near Canterbury, who recently fell
in battle with her Majesty's 45th regiment, opposing sticks to balls and
bayonets, under their doughty leader Sir William Courtenay, Earl of
Devonshire, Knight of Malta, King of Jerusalem, and much