unworthy captivity, extorted from my lips by the very need of the land
whose freedom had been bound in my chains--from a vow so compelled,
Church and conscience absolve me. If the vow of a maiden on whom to
bestow but her hand, when unknown to her parents, is judged invalid by
the Church, how much more invalid the oath that would bestow on a
stranger the fates of a nation [231], against its knowledge, and
unconsulting its laws! This royalty of England hath ever rested on
the will of the people, declared through its chiefs in their solemn
assembly. They alone who could bestow it, have bestowed it on me:--I
have no power to resign it to another--and were I in my grave, the
trust of the crown would not pass to the Norman, but return to the
Saxon people."

"Is this, then, thy answer, unhappy son?" said the monk, with a sullen
and gloomy aspect.

"Such is my answer."

"Then, sorrowing for thee, I utter the words of William. 'With sword
and with mail will he come to punish the perjurer: and by the aid of
St. Michael, archangel of war, he will conquer his own.' Amen."

"By sea and by land, with sword and with mail, will we meet the
invader," answered the King, with a flashing eye. "Thou hast said:--
so depart."

The monk turned and withdrew.

"Let the priest's insolence chafe thee not, sweet lord," said Aldyth.
"For the vow which thou mightest take as subject, what matters it now