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Updated: July 9, 2025
The Norman wisely curbed the scornful "No, indeed," that rushed to his lips, and said, all sweet and debonnair: "Each land hath its customs, dear Sexwolf: and if the Norman were king of England, he would take the laws as he finds them, and the ceorls would be as safe with William as Edward."
Pausing there in a narrow pass overhung with wild and desolate rocks, the knight deliberately summoned his squires, clad himself in his ring mail, and mounted his great destrier. "Thou dost wrong, Norman," said Sexwolf, "thou fatiguest thyself in vain heavy arms here are needless. I have fought in this country before: and as for thy steed, thou wilt soon have to forsake it, and march on foot."
Sexwolf exchanged a few words with one who seemed the head of the small garrison, and then regaining the Norman, said: "The Earl and his men have advanced into the mountainous regions of Snowdon; and there, it is said, the blood-lusting Gryffyth is at length driven to bay.
The King's wish has its weight, no doubt, but the Witan hath its yea or its nay, and the Witan and Commons are seldom at issue thereon. Thy duke King of England! Marry! Ha! ha!" "I was born a ceorl, and my father before me," returned Sexwolf, "and I feel with my class; though my grandson may rank with the thegns, and, for aught I know, with the earls."
"Hold! hold!" cried the pious knight, crossing himself, "is there no priest here to bless us? first a prayer and a psalm!" "Prayer and psalm!" cried Sexwolf, astonished, "an thou hadst said ale and mead, I could have understood thee. Out! Out! Holyrood, Holyrood!" "The godless paynims!" muttered the Norman, borne away with the crowd. Once in the open space, the scene was terrific.
The Norman wisely curbed the scornful "No, indeed," that rushed to his lips, and said, all sweet and debonnair: "Each land hath its customs, dear Sexwolf: and if the Norman were king of England, he would take the laws as he finds them, and the ceorls would be as safe with William as Edward."
"Was it ever heard before," cried Sire Mallet de Graville, "that a Norman knight was expected to walk, and to walk against a foe too! Call hither the villein, that is, the captain." But Sexwolf himself here appeared, and to him De Graville addressed his indignant remonstrance.
"For indeed, in this lengthy warfare, nought else is to be had!" The knight curiously inspected the cheese, and bent earnestly over the kid. "It sufficeth, good Sexwolf," said he, suppressing a natural sigh. "But instead of this honey-drink, which is more fit for bees than for men, get me a draught of fresh water: water is your only safe drink before fighting."
Sexwolf had a dog's instinct in all that related to his master; and he felt, though he scarce knew why, that the Norman cloaked some design upon Harold in all the cross-questionings so carelessly ventured.
He divined at once that the Welch were storming the Saxon hold. Short time indeed sufficed for that active knight to case himself in his mail; and, sword in hand, he burst through the door, cleared the stairs, and gained the hall below, which was filled with men arming in haste. "Where is Harold?" he exclaimed. "On the trenches already," answered Sexwolf, buckling his corslet of hide.
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