"My lord," he said, "I cannot own thee as my king. My father would not have me abjure all he taught me before his body is yet cold. I but ask thee as a kind enemy, who wars not with the dead, to give me leave to remove him from this fatal spot--to take him home. Thou wilt not deny an English lad this poor boon, mighty duke as thou art."
William understood English well, and was touched by the boyish spirit of the address, by the absence of fear.
"Thou dost not fear me then?" he said.
"He who lies dead on yon field for his country's sake taught me to despise fear."
"Thou art verily a bold youth, and were there many like thee, England might yet be hard to win. A noble father must have begotten so brave a son."
Then turning to his guests:
"But I hope yet," he added, "to win the hearts of such as he. They loved Canute, although he conquered them. Am I less a foreigner than he? and may not I win their love as he did?"
"Begin then thy reign with an act of clemency, my royal son," said the bishop.
"I do; the lad shall have the protection he needs, and the assistance of our people, so far as our power yet extends."
The tears started once more into Wilfred's eyes.