“For, truly, the love of their country deceives some men to such a degree, that nothing seems pleasant to them, unless they can breathe their native air.” Edgar, therefore, deluded by this silly desire, returned to England; where, as I have before said, after various revolutions of fortune, he now grows old in the country in privacy and quiet. [Sidenote: [A.D. 1103.] OF EDWIN AND MORCAR.] Edwin and Morcar were brothers; the sons of Elfgar, the son of Leofric. They had received charge of the county of Northumberland, and jointly preserved it in tranquillity. For, as I have before observed, a few days previous to the death of St. Edward the king, the inhabitants of the north had risen in rebellion and expelled Tosty, their governor; and, with Harold’s approbation, had requested, and received, one of these brothers, as their lord. These circumstances, as we have heard from persons acquainted with the affair, took place against the inclination of the king, who was attached to Tosty; but being languid through disease, and worn down with age, he become so universally disregarded, that he could not assist his favourite. In consequence, his bodily ailments increasing from the anxiety of his mind, he died shortly after. Harold persisted in his resolution of banishing his brother: wherefore, first tarnishing the triumphs of his family by piratical excursions, he was, as I have above written, afterwards killed with the king of Norway. His body being known by a wart between the shoulders, obtained burial at York. Edwin and Morcar, by Harold’s command, then conveyed the spoils of war to London, for he himself was proceeding rapidly to the battle of Hastings; where, falsely presaging, he looked upon the victory as already gained. But, when he was there killed, the brothers, flying to the territories they possessed, disturbed the peace of William for several years; infesting the woods with secret robberies, and never coming to close or open engagement. Often were they taken captive, and as often surrendered themselves, but were again dismissed with impunity, from pity to their youthful elegance, or respect to their nobility. At last, murdered, neither by the force nor craft of their enemies, but by the treachery of their partisans, their fate drew tears from the king, who would even long since have granted them matches with his relations, and the honour of his friendship, would they have acceded to terms of peace.