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Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts), 1856-1913

"Havelok the Dane A Legend of Old Grimsby and Lincoln"

Bright looked Goldberga in her blue dress, with wondrous
jewels on arm and neck, and maybe the brighter for the absence of the
Welsh thane, as I thought.
So they sat as last night, save that the noble who had come next to
Ragnar was in Griffin's place; and therefore I stood behind the king and
the princess, with the light of my torch falling between the two.
Now they were set, and at once Berthun bore a great beaker of wine to
the king, and all down the hall ran his men with the pitchers of wine
and mead and ale, and with them the women of the household and the wives
of the courtmen, filling every drinking horn for the welcome cup.
Then the gleemen hushed their song, and Alsi stood up with the
gold-rimmed horn of the king in his hand, and high he raised it, and
cried, "Waeshael!"
And all the guests rose up, cup in hand, with a wonderful flashing of
the glorious English jewels, and cried with one voice, "Drinc hael, Cyning!"
Then all sat them down, and at once came Berthun's men with the laden
spits and the cauldrons, and first they served the high table, kneeling
on the dais steps while each noble helped himself and the lady next him
with what he would. And then down the hall the feast began, and for a
time befell a silence--the silence of hungry folk who have before them
a good reason for not saying much for a little while.


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