Nor shall men forget you, Redwald, and those who fought and died here, and on the other fields that are rich with their blood spilt for love of England.
None may say that their lives are wasted, for I see before us a new brotherhood that will rise out of our long strife, because Dane and Saxon and Anglian know each other for men." So he said, and so it is, and our England is rising from the strife into a mighty oneness that has never been hers before.
We went to London before long to see the great wedding that was made for Godwine, my friend, and Gyda, the fair daughter of Ulf the jarl, and niece of Cnut himself.

There also were Relf and the lady of Penhurst, and Eldred and Sexberga, and many more of Wulfnoth's thanes.

But the old viking had gone to his place beyond the grave, and I saw him no more after I left him at Berkeley.
Godwine is the greatest man in England now, and well loved.

All men speak of his deeds in Denmark, whither he took the king's English host when troubles were there, and he is one of those who hold the kingdoms together since Ulf and Thorkel and Eirik are dead.

They were slain in petty quarrels, and it is ever in my mind that it was in judgment on them for treating with Streone the traitor in the days when Cnut had not yet taken the kingship and rule into his own hands.