“Grim, thou wist thou art my thral,
    Wilt thou do my will all
    That I will bid thee? 
    To-morrow I shall make thee free,
    And give thee goods, and rich thee make,
    If that thou wilt this child take
    And lead him with thee, to-night,
    When thou seest it is moonlight,
    Unto the sea, and do him in! 
    And I will take on me the sin.”

Grim, the fisherman, rejoiced at the thought of being free and rich.  So he took the boy, and wound him in an old cloth, and stuffed an old coat into his mouth, so that he might not cry aloud.  Then he thrust him into a sack, and thus carried him home to his cottage.

But when the moon rose, and Grim made ready to drown the child, his wife saw a great light come from the sack.  And opening it, they found therein the prince.  Then they resolved, instead of drowning him, to save and nourish him as their own child.  But they resolved also to hide the truth from the Earl.

At break of day, therefore, Grim set forth to tell Godard that his will was done.  But instead of the thanks and reward promised to him, he got only evil words.  So, speeding homeward from that traitor, he made ready his boat, and with his wife and three sons and two daughters and Havelok, they set sail upon the high sea, fleeing for their lives.

Presently a great wind arose which blew them to the coast of England.  And when they were safely come to land, Grim drew up his boat upon the shore, and there he build him a hut, and there he lived, and to this day men call the place Grimsby.

Years passed.  Havelok lived with the fisherman, and grew great and fair and strong.  And as Grim was poor, the Prince thought it no dishonor to work for his living, and he became in time a cook’s scullion.

Havelok had to work hard.  But although he worked hard he was always cheerful and merry.  He was so strong that at running, jumping, or throwing a stone no one could beat him.  Yet he was so gentle that all the children of the place loved him and played with him.

    “Him loved all, quiet or bold,
    Knight, children, young and old,
    All him loved that him saw,
    Both high men and low,
    Of him full wide the word sprang
    How he was meek, how he was strong.”

At last even the wicked Godrich in his palace heard of Havelok in the kitchen.  “Now truly this is the best man in England,” he said, with a sneer.  And thinking to bring shame on Goldboru, and wed her with a kitchen knave, he sent for Havelok.

“Master, wilt wed?” he asked, when the scullion was brought before him.

“Nay,” quoth Havelok, “by my life what should I do with a wife?  I could not feed her, nor clothe her, nor shoe her.  Whither should I bring a woman?  I have no cot, I have no stick nor twig.  I have neither bread nor sauce, and no clothes but one old coat.  These clothes even that I wear are the cook’s, and I am his knave.”