Often thereafter came he unto my lady Algive at my kinsman's house at Pevensey—once in the week at the seldomest. What this boded I could not guess, but ever I misliked this Beorn more and more.
One evening, late in summer, I, after long wandering by the shore in the cool of the eventide, hied me home, weening that somewhat ailed my lady, and sought her in her own small chamber. I found her therein, crouched low upon the floor, white as sheeted ghost, her eyes a-stare, her mouth round-agape. Seeing me, she stumbled to her feet, and with one great sob, flung her arms about my neck and held me as she would never let me go.
"Winifred, sweet friend," then said mine alderliefest lady, "fail me not now, thou that hast followed me through weal and woe! For now must I to a deed before which my whole being quails. Know then—Earl Beorn—he hath wooed me long to his own ends, and I withstood him, minding me that my troth is to Christ our Lord, even though I be now desecrate. But ever he spake of the King, and of how he, Beorn, had lately besought him that Sweyn might come again into England, and be made once more lord and earl, as beseemeth his father's son. And King Edward, said he, seemed like to yield. And oh! I have but now plighted me, that if Sweyn be inlawed by his means, I will go unto Beorn whensoever he shall send for me…. O Winifred, thou wilt yet stand by me? Thou wilt go with me—on that day…? To what end my soul's weal? Is not Sweyn's life wrecked through me?"
Seeing how it was with her, I wrestled not with her resolve, but soothed her crying, and swore to stand or fall by her. In the town of Pevensey I had a friend, a trusty good-wife who had been whilom of Earl Godwin's household, and loved Lord Sweyn as her own bairn. Indeed, I had but now learned of her that Sweyn, with his Danish ships, hung even then about the shores of Kent. And in his father's lordship of Bosham were some, as I knew, that gave him food and shelter when he willed to set foot on English ground. To one of these I sent, bidding him tell Sweyn the outlaw that I had that for his ear alone which must be said, and quickly. Three days later I found him, Earl Godwin's first-born, within a filthy hovel, wherein must he ever stoop that his head hit not against the thatch.
Straightway I fell on my knees before him, not knowing what I uttered—only saying over and over:
"Lord Sweyn, Lord Sweyn, this must not be!"
And I told to him the guilty bargain made by my Lady Algive with Beorn the Earl, for sake of him, Sweyn Godwinson.
Scarce was my meaning clear ere his fell wrath began to gather like a thunder-storm.
"May he burn in hell-fire!" cried Sweyn. "May earth spue forth his body, that he come never to no burial! May the ravens of Odin pick his bones for ever, and each day may the flesh grow upon them anew! The toad! The rat!—Aye, I too have trafficked with Beorn Estrithson of late, and found him kindly and loving enough. Speak for me to the King! Shall I be inlawed? I do think for a day: and then, if I but yawn at mass, or smile at a pretty wench by the roadside, they will drive me once more forth!"
Then growing calmer he said: