rs without any
stirring events and in utter disuse of arms; but at last he pleaded the
long while he had been tilling the earth, and the immoderate time he had
forborne from exploits on the seas; and seeming to think war a merrier
thing than peace, he began to upbraid himself with slothfulness in a
strain like this:

"Why loiter I thus in darksome hiding, in the folds of rugged hills, nor
follow seafaring as of old? The continual howling of the band of wolves,
and the plaintive cry of harmful beasts that rises to heaven, and the
fierce impatient lions, all rob my eyes of sleep. Dreary are the ridges
and the desolation to hearts that trusted to do wilder work. The stark
rocks and the rugged lie of the ground bar the way to spirits who are
wont to love the sea. It were better service to sound the firths with
the oars, to revel in plundered wares, to pursue the gold of others for
my coffer, to gloat over sea-gotten gains, than to dwell in rough lands
and winding woodlands and barren glades."

Then his wife, loving a life in the country, and weary of the
marin harmony of the sea-birds, declared how great joy she found in
frequenting the woodlands, in the following strain:

"The shrill bird vexes me as I tarry by the shore, and with its
chattering rouses me when I cannot sleep. Wherefore the noisy sweep of
its boisterous rush takes gentle rest from my sleeping eye, nor doth
the loud-chattering sea-mew suffer me to rest in the night, forcing its
wearisome tale into my dainty ears; nor when I would lie down doth it
suffer me to be refreshed, clamouring with doleful modulation of its
ill-boding voice. Safer and sweeter do I deem the enjoyment of the
woods. How are the fruits of rest plucked less by day or night than by
tarrying tossed on the shifting sea?"

At this time one Toste emerged, from the obscure spot of Jutland where
he was born, into bloody notoriety. For by all manner of wanton attacks
upon the common people he spread wide the fame of his cruelty, and
gained so universal a repute for rancour, that he was branded with
the name of the Wicked. Nor did he even refrain from wrongdoing to
foreigners, but, after foully harrying his own land, went on to assault
Saxony. The Saxon general Syfrid, when his men were hard put to it in
the battle, entreated peace. Toste declared that he should have what he
asked, but only if he would promise to become his ally in a war against
Hadding. Syfrid demurred, dreading to fulfill the