and, and she was wise in all manner of wisdom that is good
and to be desired. But when the time drew on that Earl Godrich should
give up the kingdom to her, he began to think within himself--"Shall
I, that have ruled so long, give up the kingdom to a girl, and let her
be queen and lady over me? And to what end? All these strong earls and
barons, governed by a weaker hand than mine, would throw off the yolk
and split up England into little baronies, evermore fighting betwixt
themselves for mastery. There would cease to be a kingdom, and so
there would cease to be a queen. She cannot rule it, and she shall not
have it. Besides, I have a son. Him will I teach to rule and make him
king."

So the earl let his oath go for nothing, and went to Winchester where
the maiden was, and fetched her away and carried her off to Dover to a
castle that is by the seashore. Therein he shut her up and dressed her
in poor clothes, and fed her on scanty fare; neither would he let any
of her friends come near her.

Now there was in Denmark a certain King called Birkabeyn, who had
three children, two daughters and a son. And Birkabeyn fell sick, and
knowing that death had stricken him, he called for Godard, whom
he thought his truest friend, and said, "Godard, here I commend my
children to thee. Care for them, I pray thee, and bring them up as
befits the children of a king. When the boy is grown and can bear a
helm upon his head and wield a spear, I charge thee to make him king
of Denmark. Till then hold my estate and royalty in charge for him."
And Godard swore to guard the children zealously, and to give up the
kingdom to the boy. Then Birkabeyn died and was buried. But no sooner
was the King laid in his grave than Godard despised his oath; for he
took the children, Havelok and his two little sisters, Swanborough and
Helfled, and shut them up in a castle with barely clothes to cover
them. And Havelok, the eldest, was scarce three years old.

One day Godard came to see the children, and found them all crying
of hunger and cold; and he said angrily, "How now! What is all this
crying about?" The boy Havelok answered him, "We are very hungry, for
we get scarce anything to eat. Is there no more corn, that men cannot
make bread and give us? We are very hungry." But his little sisters
only sat shivering with the cold, and sobbing, for they were too young
to be able to speak. The cruel Godard cared not. He went to where the
little girls sat, and d