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XXVII

King Canute Is Wounded

The History of King Sweyn Estridsson and His Sons and of the Martyrdom of King Canute the Holy

But the enemy, persistent in stubborn insolence, pressed against the walls of the basilica and shot stones and arrows through every opening. The leader himself — like Stephen, battered with stones, and like Sebastian, wounded by missiles — was struck, and the sacred building was drenched with the blood of him and of his companions, wounded and finally slain. And thus, one may truly say, it was consecrated anew by the preciousness of their martyrdom.

So that the devout king might become a true imitator of Christ’s suffering, just as the Lord Jesus was placed on the cross between the wicked, so this man, standing amid the storm of the raging crowd, asked for water to be given to him as he thirsted under the rain of weapons. When a man, moved by compassion, drew water and handed it to him through a window, another thrust in a spear, knocking the vessel from both their hands and spilling the water. This denied the king relief from thirst for a short while, but did not deprive the compassionate man of his reward.

Not long afterward, the attacker himself, driven mad, leaned over a well to quench his own thirst. Lowering his head into the depths and grotesquely stretching his legs above him, he was dragged down by the evil spirit into the abyss. He left behind his lifeless body as a visible sign of divine vengeance for those who came after. In this way, he who had sinned against the servant of God experienced unmistakable retribution.

But what more is there to say? Should I speak, or should I remain silent? The full wickedness of the crime demands to be set forth, and the course of events calls for the deed — detestable to all ages — to be told. Up to this point, we have seen the glorious prince fighting like the most illustrious of heroes against his enemies, and we have almost stood beside him, supplying the weapons of devout affection. Now, as all earthly things turn toward their setting, and the time of harvest comes when the flowers are ripe for cutting, although human compassion grieves to announce that the presence of so glorious a man has been taken from this world, it nonetheless increases our greater joy to exalt him with praise, lifted to heaven after the course of his laborious struggle.

But what should one say of the rage and madness of the senseless crowd? When they rose against their earthly ruler, they did not hesitate to turn the engines of their fury against the Lord of all virtue himself. They had seen the fire set against the sacred building extinguished from above, so that the holy place was not burned. They had heard the most devout leader, amid clashing weapons and flying stones, offering sound counsel and promising peace. Yet, filled with the spirit of malice and emptied of the spirit of kindness, they were moved neither by divine wonders nor softened by human reason.

For the judgment of the heavenly arbiter was drawing to its fulfillment, calling his athlete from present turmoil into eternal rest. Thus, for him, an everlasting memory of glory was being prepared; for them, a perpetual infamy of condemnation. As was said of the persecutors of the Lord: had they understood, they would not have raised the weapons of their fury against so glorious a prince.