The King yields.
He grants terms.
Odo asks for the honours of war.
To this appeal Rufus yielded. It was not indeed an
appeal to his knightly faith, which was in no way
pledged to the defenders of Rochester. But it was
an appeal to any gentler feelings that might be in
him, and still more so to that vein of self-esteem and
self-exaltation which was the leading feature in his character.
If Rufus had an opportunity of showing himself
greater than other men, as neither justice nor mercy
stood in the way of his making the most of it, so neither
did any mere feeling of wrath or revenge. As his
advisers told him, he was so successful that he could
afford to be merciful, and merciful he accordingly was.
To have hanged or blinded his enemies would not have
so distinctly exalted himself, as he must have felt himself
exalted, when those who had defied him, those who
had tried to make terms with him, were driven to
accept such terms as he chose to give them. The Red
King then plighted his faith—and his faith when once
so plighted was never broken—that the lives and limbs
of the garrison should be safe, that they should come
forth from the castle with their arms and horses. But
they must leave the realm; they must give up all hope
of keeping their lands and honours in England, as long
at least as King William lived.[1] To these terms they
had to yield; but Odo, even in his extremity, craved
for one favour. He had to bear utter discomfiture, the
failure of his hopes, the loss of his lands and honours;
but he prayed to be at least spared the public scorn of
the victors. His proud soul was not ready to bear the
looks, the gestures, the triumphant shouts and songs, of
the people whom he had trodden to the earth, and who
- [Footnote: *tate, subjuga tibi magnificentia et pietate." On the sense of "magnificentia,"
cf. N. C. vol. i. p. 261.]
- ↑ Ord. Vit. 668 D. "Omnem spem habendi hæreditates et terras in regno ejus, quamdiu ipse regnaret, funditus abscidit."
