"What matters!" cried Haco; "strike, O King, for thy crown!"

Harold's hand griped Haco's arm convulsively; he lowered his axe,
turned round, and passed shudderingly away.

Both armies now paused from the attack; for both were thrown into
great disorder, and each gladly gave respite to the other, to re-form
its own shattered array.

The Norsemen were not the soldiers to yield because their leader was
slain--rather the more resolute to fight, since revenge was now added
to valour; yet, but for the daring and promptness with which Tostig
had cut his way to the standard, the day had been already decided.

During the pause, Harold summoning Gurth, said to him in great
emotion, "For the sake of Nature, for the love of God, go, O Gurth,--
go to Tostig; urge him, now Hardrada is dead, urge him to peace. All
that we can proffer with honour, proffer--quarter and free retreat to
every Norseman [248]. Oh, save me, save us, from a brother's blood!"

Gurth lifted his helmet, and kissed the mailed hand that grasped his
own.

"I go," said he. And so, bareheaded, and with a single trumpeter, he
went to the hostile lines.

Harold awaited him in great agitation; nor could any man have guessed
what bitter and awful thoughts lay in that heart, from which, in the
way to power, tie after tie had been wrenched away. He did not wait