“In the Name of my Master, Whom thou hast defied, O king, I offer thee thy choice. Thou must put away thy concubine, or thou shalt sustain the greater excommunication, when it will become unlawful for Christian people even to speak with thee, or wish thee God speed, lest they be partakers of thy evil deeds.”
“My lord, you must yield,” whispered Cynewulf.
“Son of the noble Edmund, thou must save thy father’s name from disgrace.”
“I cannot, will not, do Elgiva this foul wrong. I tell thee, priest, that if thy benediction has never been pronounced upon our union, we are man and wife before heaven.”
“I await your answer,” said Odo. “Am I to understand you choose the fearful penalty of excommunication?”
“Nay! nay! he does not; he cannot,” cried the counsellors. “Your holiness!—father!—in the king’s name we yield!”
“You are all cowards and traitors! Let him do what he will, I cannot yield.”
“Then, my lord king, I must proceed,” said Odo. “You have not only acted wickedly in this matter, but you have misgoverned the people committed to your charge, and broken every clause of your coronation oath. First, you have not given the Church of God peace, or preserved her from molestation, but have yourself ravaged her lands, and even slain her servants with the sword; one, specially honoured of God, you sought to slay, sending that wicked man, who has been called by fire to his judgment, to execute your impious will.”
“That holy fox Dunstan! Would Redwald had slain him!” muttered Edwy.
“Secondly,” continued Odo, not heeding the interruption, “so far from preventing thefts and fraud in all manner of men, you have maintained notorious oppressors amongst your officers, and in your own person you have broken the oath; for did you not even rob your aged grandmother, and consume her substance in riotous living?”