years,[1] neither indolently nor oppressively, either elated with success, because he imagined nothing could oppose him, or alarmed for his posterity, from the increasing power of Kineard, the brother of Sigebert, he compelled him to quit the kingdom. Kineard, deeming it necessary to yield to the emergency of the times, departed as if voluntarily; but soon after, when by secret meetings he had assembled a desperate band of wretches, watching when the king might be alone, for he had gone into the country for the sake of recreation, he followed him thither with his party. And learning that he was there giving loose to improper desires, he beset the house on all sides. The king struck with his perilous situation, and holding a conference with the persons present, shut fast the doors, expecting either to appease the desperadoes by fair language, or to terrify them by threats. When neither succeeded, he rushed furiously on Kineard, and had nearly killed him; but, surrounded by the multitude, and thinking it derogatory to his courage to give way, he fell, selling his life nobly. Some few of his attendants, who, instead of yielding, attempted to take vengeance for the loss of their lord, were slain. The report of this dreadful outrage soon reached the ears of the nobles, who were waiting near at hand. Of these Esric, the chief in age and prudence, conjuring the rest not to leave unrevenged the death of their sovereign to their own signal and eternal ignominy, rushed with drawn sword upon the conspirators. At first Kineard attempted to argue his case; to make tempting offers; to hold forth their relationship; but when this availed nothing, he stimulated his party to resistance. Doubtful was the conflict, where one side contended with all its powers for life, the other for glory. And victory, wavering for a long time, at last decided for the juster cause. Thus, fruitlessly valiant, this unhappy man lost his life, unable long to boast the success of his treachery. The king's body was buried at Winchester, and the prince's at Repton; at that time a noble monastery, but at present, as I have heard, with few, or scarcely any inmates.
- ↑ Malmesbury here perpetuates the error of the transcriber of the Saxon Chronicle, in assigning thirty-one years to Cynewolf, for as he came to the throne in 756, and was killed in 784, consequently he reigned about twenty-nine years. Perhaps he wrote, correctly, "uno de triginta annis," conjectures Mr. Hardy.
