What can ye do against ten thousand
Normans, out here in the open country? or what good can ye hope to
do in the woods? Nay, come to the Camp of Refuge, the last retreat
of England's noblest sons; there is the noble Archbishop Stigand,
the faithful English prelate, who dared to defy the Conqueror to
his face; there the Bishops of Lincoln, Winchester, Durham, and
Lindisfarne, whose fair palaces are usurped by Norman intruders;
there the patriotic Abbots of Glastonbury and St. Albans; there
nobles, thanes--all who yet dare to hope for England's salvation;
and thence shall the tide of victory return after the ebb, and
sweep the Bastard and his Norman dogs into the sea. England shall
be England again, yea, to the latest generations."
Cheer upon cheer arose from the company; it was evident that the
envoy had gained his point. Wilfred now stood up.
"There are but two courses open to us, men of Aescendune--to return
to our haunts in the woods, to be hunted out in the next dry season
like vermin; the other, to repair to the Camp of Refuge. I, for
one, have decided; I will no longer hide in the Dismal Swamp like a
brock--I will accept the invitation of Abbot Thurstan, and live or
die by the side of the brave Hereward."
"And I," "and I," "and I.
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