By a device as cunning as it was strange, Thyra’s pretended modesty passed into an acknowledgment of her future offspring.  Nor did fate disappoint her hopes.  Soon she was the fortunate mother of Kanute and Harald.  When these princes had attained man’s estate, they put forth a fleet and quelled the reckless insolence of the Sclavs.  Neither did they leave England free from an attack of the same kind.  Ethelred was delighted with their spirit, and rejoiced at the violence his nephews offered him; accepting an abominable wrong as though it were the richest of benefits.  For he saw far more merit in their bravery than in piety.  Thus he thought it nobler to be attacked by foes than courted by cowards, and felt that he saw in their valiant promise a sample of their future manhood.

For he could not doubt that they would some day attack foreign realms, since they so boldly claimed those of their mother.  He so much preferred their wrongdoing to their service, that he passed over his daughter, and bequeathed England in his will to these two, not scrupling to set the name of grandfather before that of father.  Nor was he unwise; for he knew that it beseemed men to enjoy the sovereignty rather than women, and considered that he ought to separate the lot of his unwarlike daughter from that of her valiant sons.  Hence Thyra saw her sons inheriting the goods of her father, not grudging to be disinherited herself.  For she thought that the preference above herself was honourable to her, rather than insulting.

Kanute and Harald enriched themselves with great gains from sea-roving, and most confidently aspired to lay hands on Ireland.  Dublin, which was considered the capital of the country, was beseiged.  Its king went into a wood adjoining the city with a few very skilled archers, and with treacherous art surrounded Kanute (who was present with a great throng of soldiers witnessing the show of the games by night), and aimed a deadly arrow at him from afar.  It struck the body of the king in front, and pierced him with a mortal wound.  But Kanute feared that the enemy would greet his peril with an outburst of delight.  He therefore wished his disaster to be kept dark; and summoning voice with his last breath, he ordered the games to be gone through without disturbance.  By this device he made the Danes masters of Ireland ere he made his own death known to the Irish.

Who would not bewail the end of such a man, whose self-mastery served to give the victory to his soldiers, by reason of the wisdom that outlasted his life?  For the safety of the Danes was most seriously endangered, and was nearly involved in the most deadly peril; yet because they obeyed the dying orders of their general they presently triumphed over those they feared.