the wild woods free from robbers, and had all
things in his hand.

The king's daughter began thrive
And wex the fairest woman alive.

Her name was Goldeburgh. Earl Godrich
sighed to think that she should ever be his
mistress, and said to himself,

I have a, son, a full fair knave,
He shall Engeland all have.

He then being so resolved, and not caring
about his oath, before he ate meat fetched
Goldeburgh from Winchester, where she was
royally housed, to the sea-shore at Dover, and
there shut her up in the castle, poorly fed
and thinly clothed.

Now in that time it befel that there was a
rich, strong king of Denmark, and his name
was Birkabeyn. He was a brave knight, with
many knights for followers, and he was father
of a son and of two daughters, whom he
dearly loved. He being near death, when he
was shriven, gave to his own friend Godard,
the truest that he knew, care of his little
children, till the son could wear helm on his
head, and wield a spear as king. On altar,
bells, and mass-book, Godard swore to
protect Denmark and the children till the boy
became a knight. But when Birkabeyn was
laid in his grave, Godard speedily took
Havelok, the king's heir, and his two sisters,
Swanborow and Helfeld, and shut them up
where, ere they were yet three winters old,
they pined for cold and hunger. And after
he had taken all, he thought of further
treachery upon the children. He went to
the tower in which they were shivering.
Havelok, who was a bold child, came to him
and sat on his knee. Godard said to them,
"Why do you weep and howl?" "Because
we are sore hungry," said the boy. "We
have no meat, and there are no knights to
fetch us drink. Woe is us that we were
born! Wellaway! is there no corn, and
cannot bread be made? We hunger so that
we are nearly dead." Godard paid no heed,
but lifted up the little maids together, green
and bleak with hunger, as if he would dance
them in sport, and in that manner he cut
their throats. Havelok saw it, and he saw
the knife at his own heart. He kneeled before
the Judas, and gave Denmark for his life,
offered to fly, and promised to deny his
parentage. Godard withdrew the knife, but
he thought, If my own children thrive ill,
Havelok will succeed me. I must cast him
into the sea, and tie an anchor round his
neck, so that he shall not float.

So he sent for a fisherman that he knew,
who would do all his will, and said to him,
"Grim, thou knowest thou art my thrall.
Do my will, thou shalt have gold and land
to-morrow; I will set thee free. Take this
child, throw him into the sea to-night, and
upon my head be the sin." Grim took the
child, and bound him fast with a strong line.
When Grim had bound him fast, he wound
him in an old cloth, stuffed a coat into his
mouth, and carried him off on his back in a
large black bag.

Being come home, the fisherman told Leve,
his wife, what luck awaited them; who,
when she heard it, started up, and threw the
boy down with such a bounce, that his crown
cracked against a great stone as it lay, and
Havelok well might cry "Wellaway! that
ever I was a king's child!" So the little one
lay until midnight, when Grim bade his
dame, Leve, blow the fire, and bring a light,
for he must see to put his clothes on. As
she went out to do so, she was aware of a
great light where the child lay, and, as it
were, a sunbeam shining from his mouth. It
was a light as of ten candles. "Start up,
Grim, and look! Say what this means!"
They unbound the child, and found a royal
mark on his right shoulder. "Godwot,"
quoth Grim, "this heir of Denmark shall be
a strong king, that shall have in his hand all
Denmark and England. He shall hang
Godard, or bury him alive." Grim, therefore,
fell at the boy's feet, promising to
serve and nourish him. From him only
would he earn the gift of freedom, which he
only could bestow. Then was Havelok a
merry child; he sat up and craved bread,
saying, "I am nigh dead, what for hunger,
what for the bands upon my hands, and the
coat thrust into my mouth." Leve fetched
him bread and cheese, butter and milk,
pasties and flawns. Havelok ate up a whole
loaf, then Grim made him a fair bed,
undressed him, and put him to sleep.

In the morning, Grim the fisherman went
to Godard and said: "I have drowned the
boy, having first tied an anchor round his
neck, that he should not float. Give me now
my reward." But he was sent away with
hard words and fierce threats. Grim sold all
his corn, his sheep with wool, his kine with
horns, horse and swine, geese and hens; he
tried well the strength of his boat, put in a
good mast, strong cables, stout oars and sail,
and when there wanted not a nail more, he
put into the boat young Havelok, together
with his own wife, her three sons, and her
two daughters, and escaped on the high-sea.
When they were a mile from land, there rose
a wind from the north, called bise, that drove
them to England.

Grim landed in the Humber, in Lindeseye,
right at the north end, and there he made a
little earthen hut for himself, and his household,
and his boat; and, because he was
harboured there, for that reason men will,
until doomsday, give that place the name of
Grimsby.

Grim was a clever fisherman, who earned
his living well with net and hook. He made
stout panniers, in which he and his sons
carried their fish for sale, through town and
country round about; and they never came