who wins all:' but Dr. Latham, true to his opinion that the Lombards
and the Angles were closely connected, identifies it with our
AElfwine, 'the fairy conqueror.'

Aldwin, Paul says, and Thorisend fought in the Asfeld,--wherever that
may be,--and Alboin the Lombard prince slew Thorisend the Gepid
prince, and the Gepidae were defeated with a great slaughter.

Then young Alboin asked his father to let him sit at the table with
him. No, he could not do that, by Lombard custom, till he has become
son-at-arms to some neighbouring king.

Young Alboin takes forty thanes, and goes off to Thorisend's court,
as the guest of his enemy. The rites of hospitality are sacred. The
king receives him, feasts him, seats him, the slayer of his son, in
his dead son's place. And as he looks on him he sighs; and at last
he can contain no longer. The seat, he says, I like right well: but
not the man who sits in it. One of his sons takes fire, and begins
to insult the Lombards and their white gaiters. You Lombards have
white legs like so many brood mares. A Lombard flashes up. Go to
the Asfeld, and you will see how Lombard mares can kick. Your
brother's bones are lying about there like any sorry nag's. This is
too much; swords are drawn; but old Thorisend leaps up. He will
punish the first man who strikes. Guests are sacred. Let them sit
down again, and drink their liquor in peace. And after they have
drunk, he gives Alboin his dead son's weapons, and lets them go in
peace, like a noble gentleman.

This grand old King dies in peace. Aldwin dies likewise, and to them
succeed their sons, Alboin and Cunimund--the latter probably the