Wulfhere, Ælfric, and Egwina were welcomed by the monks and refreshed by the bath, for the Saxons were a cleanly people, and fond of bathing; then were they called into a long, low hall, the refectory or dining-room, and invited to partake of supper. Cakes of barley, fish, swine flesh, milk, eggs, and cheese, with plenty of mead to wash it down, constituted the repast; for even the priests of this hardy race were hearty eaters and fond of good cheer.
The meat was passed round on spits, and each one cut a portion for himself with his knife, and then ate it, using the fingers to convey the food to the mouth, as there were no forks.
After the meal, all gathered round the fire which was built in the centre of the room, the smoke escaping through a hole or cover in the roof.
“It is forbidden us to listen to the songs of the people,” said the abbot addressing Wulfhere, “but mayhap thou canst sing to us the songs of the Church.”
“Nay, good father,” answered Wulfhere, “I am not skilled in sacred song.”
“Cannot thy daughter sing them?” asked the abbot. “Truly it were ill if so fair a flower should know naught of the songs of the Faith.”
“I know not,” replied Wulfhere in perplexity.
“There is one that I know,” interrupted Egwina, softly. “It was one that my mother sang.”
“Let us hear it, daughter,” said the abbot.
Without hesitation, Egwina then sang the “Crist” of Cynewulf.