Long and loud was the revelry in the castle of Aescendune that
night; as it is written in the old ballad of Imogene:

"The tables groaned with the weight of the feast,
And many and noble were the guests."

But no spectral form sat beside the bride, although there were not
wanting those who half imagined the dead Edmund might appear--roused
even from the grave, to see the seat he had occupied so many years in
honour and worth, filled by this dark-browed Norman stranger.

"Let us drink," said the courtly bishop, "to the health and
happiness of Norman lord and English lady, and may their union be a
type of the union betwixt the two people, who, forgetting that they
met as worthy foes at Senlac, may live as brethren under the
noblest king in Christendom."

The toast was drunk with acclamations; even the English guests
thought they meant it in the delirium of the jovial scene, and
fancied for a moment that Englishman and Norman might yet live in
peace.

"Is it not sweet?" said the good prior to one of the English
guests. "It reminds me of the happy time when it is said the wolf
shall lie down with the lamb."

"Methinks the lamb is likely in this case to lie down inside the
wolf, especially if he be a Norman wolf."