Read "Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings Book VII: The Welch King" by Edward Bulwer-lytton online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
On re-entering the room, Harold drew the large bolt across the door, opened the case, and took forth the distained and tattered scroll:
"When this comes to thee, Harold, the brother of thy childish days will sleep in the flesh, and be lost to men's judgment and earth's woe in the spirit. I have knelt at the Tomb; but no dove hath come forth from the cloud, -- no stream of grace hath re-baptised the child of wrath! They tell me now -- monk and priest tell me -- that I have atoned all my sins; that the dread weregeld is paid; that I may enter the world of men with a spirit free from the load, and a name redeemed from the stain. Think so, O brother! -- Bid my father (if he still lives, the dear old man! ) think so; -- tell Githa to think it; and oh, teach Haco, my son, to hold the belief as a truth! Harold, again I commend to thee my son; be to him as a father! My death surely releases him as a hostage. Let him not grow up in the court of the stranger, in the land of our foes. Let his feet, in his youth, climb the green holts of England; -- let his eyes, resin dims them, drink the blue of her skies!