Edwy flushed. “Is this a subject’s language?”
“It is the language of one who loves his king too well to flatter him.”
At this moment an usher of the court knocked at the door, and obtaining permission to enter, stated that Archbishop Odo had arrived, and demanded admission to the council.
“I will not see him,” said the king.
“My liege,” exclaimed Athelwold, the old grey-headed counsellor we have mentioned, “permit one who loves you, as he loved your revered father, to entreat you to cease from this hopeless resistance. If you refuse to see him you are no longer a king.”
“Then I will gladly abdicate.”
“And become the scorn of Dunstan, and receive a retiring pension from Edgar, and put your hand between his, kneeling humbly and saying ‘I am your man.’”
“No, no. Anything rather than that. Death first.”
“All this may be averted with timely submission. Elgiva herself would not counsel you to sacrifice all for her.”
“O Athelwold, my father, the only one of my father’s counsellors who has been faithful to his firstborn, what can I do? She is dearer to me than life.”