t intrude on thee
my ignorant and curious questions."

"Speak out, Norman."

"How comes it, then, that you English so love this Earl Godwin?--Still
more, why think you it right and proper that King Edward should love him
too? It is a question I have often asked, and to which I am not likely
in these halls to get answer satisfactory. If I know aught of your
troublous history, this same Earl has changed sides oft eno'; first for
the Saxon, then for Canute the Dane--Canute dies, and your friend takes
up arms for the Saxon again. He yields to the advice of your Witan, and
sides with Hardicanute and Harold, the Danes--a letter, nathless, is
written as from Emma, the mother to the young Saxon princes, Edward and
Alfred, inviting them over to England, and promising aid; the saints
protect Edward, who continues to say aves in Normandy--Alfred comes over,
Earl Godwin meets him, and, unless belied, does him homage, and swears to
him faith. Nay, listen yet. This Godwin, whom ye love so, then leads
Alfred and his train into the ville of Guildford, I think ye call
it,--fair quarters enow. At the dead of the night rush in King Harold's
men, seize prince and follower, six hundred men in all; and next morning,
saving only every tenth man, they are tortured and put to death. The
prince is born off to London, and shortly afterwards his eyes are torn
out in the Islet of Ely, and he dies of the anguish! That ye should love
Earl Godwin withal may be strange, but yet possible. But is it possible,
cher Envoy, for the King to love the man who thus betrayed his brother to
the shambles?"

"All this is a Norman fable," said the Thegn of Kent, with a disturbed
visage; "and Godwin cleared himself on oath of all share in the foul
murder of Alfred."

"The oath, I have heard, was backed," said the knight drily, "by a
present to Hardicanute, who after the death of King Harold resolved to
avenge the black butchery; a present, I say, of a gilt ship, manned by
fourscore warriors with gold-hilted swords, and gilt helms.--But let this
pass."

"Let it pass," echoed Vebba with a sigh. "Bloody were those times, and
unholy their secrets."

"Yet answer me still, why love you Earl Godwin? He hath changed sides
from party to party, and in each change won lordships and lands. He is
ambitious and grasping, ye all allow; for the ballads sung in your
streets liken him to the thorn and the bramble, at which the sheep leaves
his wool. He is haughty a