Oft have I heard my father kindle as he told the tale.

The envoy of Tosti was admitted, when this ample room could scarce contain the crowd of noble Saxon leaders, who were quaffing the blood-red wine around their monarch." "I hope," said Athelstane, somewhat moved by this part of his friend's discourse, "they will not forget to send us some wine and refactions at noon--we had scarce a breathing-space allowed to break our fast, and I never have the benefit of my food when I eat immediately after dismounting from horseback, though the leeches recommend that practice." Cedric went on with his story without noticing this interjectional observation of his friend.
"The envoy of Tosti," he said, "moved up the hall, undismayed by the frowning countenances of all around him, until he made his obeisance before the throne of King Harold.
"'What terms,' he said, 'Lord King, hath thy brother Tosti to hope, if he should lay down his arms, and crave peace at thy hands ?' "'A brother's love,' cried the generous Harold, 'and the fair earldom of Northumberland.' "'But should Tosti accept these terms,' continued the envoy, 'what lands shall be assigned to his faithful ally, Hardrada, King of Norway ?' "'Seven feet of English ground,' answered Harold, fiercely, 'or, as Hardrada is said to be a giant, perhaps we may allow him twelve inches more.' "The hall rung with acclamations, and cup and horn was filled to the Norwegian, who should be speedily in possession of his English territory." "I could have pledged him with all my soul," said Athelstane, "for my tongue cleaves to my palate." "The baffled envoy," continued Cedric, pursuing with animation his tale, though it interested not the listener, "retreated, to carry to Tosti and his ally the ominous answer of his injured brother.

It was then that the distant towers of York, and the bloody streams of the Derwent, [26] beheld that direful conflict, in which, after displaying the most undaunted valour, the King of Norway, and Tosti, both fell, with ten thousand of their bravest followers.

Who would have thought that upon the proud day when this battle was won, the very gale which waved the Saxon banners in triumph, was filling the Norman sails, and impelling them to the fatal shores of Sussex ?--Who would have thought that Harold, within a few brief days, would himself possess no more of his kingdom, than the share which he allotted in his wrath to the Norwegian invader ?--Who would have thought that you, noble Athelstane--that you, descended of Harold's blood, and that I, whose father was not the worst defender of the Saxon crown, should be prisoners to a vile Norman, in the very hall in which our ancestors held such high festival ?" "It is sad enough," replied Athelstane; "but I trust they will hold us to a moderate ransom--At any rate it cannot be their purpose to starve us outright; and yet, although it is high noon, I see no preparations for serving dinner.

Look up at the window, noble Cedric, and judge by the sunbeams if it is not on the verge of noon." "It may be so," answered Cedric; "but I cannot look on that stained lattice without its awakening other reflections than those which concern the passing moment, or its privations.