"It is our duty to make offers of aid, rather than to wait his requests," continued Fitzosborne. "He hath need of us now; and if we fail him, and he gains his end, he will remember it to our disadvantage. Let us, then, prove by our acts that we love him, and let us entitle ourselves to his gratitude."
"Doubtless, William is our lord," cried the Normans; "but is it not enough for us to pay him his dues? We owe him no aid beyond the seas. He hath already oppressed us enough with his wars; let him fail in this new enterprise, and our country is undone."
"Well," said Fitzosborne, changing his plan, "let us return to the duke; and I, as knowing the position of each man present, will take upon me to excuse the limited offers of the assembly."
"So be it," was the answer; and the Normans, with Fitzosborne at their head, returned to Duke William's presence.
"Sire," said Fitzosborne, addressing William, "I do not believe that there are in the whole world people more zealous than yours. You know the aids they have given you—the onerous services they have rendered. Well, sire, they will do more. They offer to serve you beyond the seas as they have done here."
"No, no!" cried the Normans, "we did not charge you with such an answer."
"For my own part," continued Fitzosborne, "I will, out of love to you, give sixty well-appointed ships, each charged with fifty fighting men. Forward, then, and spare us in nothing! He who hath hitherto only supplied you with two good mounted soldiers will now supply four."
"We did not say that," cried the Normans, "and it shall not be so. In things within his own country, we will serve the duke, as is due; but we are not bound to assist him to conquer another man's country. Besides, if once we rendered double service, and followed him across the sea, he would make it a right and a custom for the future; he would burden our children with it."
"It shall not be—it cannot be!" shouted the assembled Normans vociferously; and, after forming themselves into groups of ten, twenty, and thirty, they declaimed tumultuously, and then separated.
William was enraged beyond measure—the blood of Rolfganger boiled in his veins—and the spirit of Robert the Devil flashed from his eyes. Nevertheless, by such an effort as only such a man is capable of, he exercised sufficient command over himself to control his temper, bow his pride, and resort to artifice. Summoning separately the men with whom in a body he had failed, he requested the support of each as a personal favour. This plan of proceeding proved completely successful. No Norman, when alone with the duke, and under the influence of his eloquence and his eye, had the courage to refuse; and every one of those who had shouted "It cannot be!" consented to give to the full extent of his means.