thane, who seemed to see Edmund, the father of the young prince, before
his eyes, as he had known him in his own impetuous youth. Dear, indeed,
had that prince been to Ella, both before and after his elevation to the
throne, and as he heard the sweet boyish voice of Edwy, his thoughts
were guided by memory to that ill-omened feast at Pucklechurch, where
the vindictive outlaw Leolf had murdered his king. The sword of Ella had
been amongst those which avenged the crime on the murderer, but they
could not call back the vital spark which had fled. "Edmund the
Magnificent," as they loved to call him, was dead. [v]

So, as Ella listened, he could hardly help condoning the wild speeches
of the young prince in deference to the memory of the past.

And now they removed the festive board from the hall, while kneeling
serfs offered basin and towel to the thane and his guest to wash their
hands. Wine began to circulate freely in goblets of wood inlaid with
gold or silver; the clinking of cups, the drinking of healths and
pledges opened the revel, cupbearers poured out the wine. The glee-wood
(harp) was introduced, while pipes, flutes, and soft horns accompanied
its strains. So they sang--

Here Athelstane king,
Of earls the lord,
To warriors the ring-giver
Glory world-long
Had won in the strife,
By edge of the sword,
At Brunanburgh.

And Ella--who had stood by his father's side in that dread field where