Niels Ebbeson

Count Gherrit summoned all his men,
From Sleswick marched away;
There never was seen a finer band
Before or since that day.

With banners flying twenty-eight
The border land he crossed,
And pitch'd his camp on Danish soil;
Who dared withstand his host?

Count Gherrit would to Randers ride,
That course he came to choose,
Though long had been his fate foretold,
He there his life should loose.

He cared not, he, for spaewife's tale,
His fate would even test.
Would visit burgher, knight and boor,
An all-unwelcome guest.

He came with eighteen thousand bows,
Yeomen and knights beside.
Had forty thousand men in all;
Who could their force abide?

He sent to bid Niels Ebbeson
To come without delay;
A sure safe-conduct offered him,
And escort on the way.

Count Gherrit met Niels Ebbeson
North-side of Randers strand;
"Bight welcome here, Niels Ebbeson,
"How fares your native land?"

The Count embraced Niels Ebbeson,
And courteously they spoke;
But mirth was none in their discourse,
And even less of joke.

"Welcome, my dear Niels Ebbeson,
"Welcome, right welcome here!
"How is North Jutland now disposed,
"What tidings meet your ear?

"And tell me how your kinsmen fare,
"And how your gentle wife;
"And whether you will fight with me,
"Or ask a truce to strife."

"North Jutland, that is well disposed,
"All well and cheerful there;
"Come you, my lord, for war or peace?
"Your motive, pray, declare.

"Up in North Jutland I have friends,
"And wealthy kinsmen too,
"And ready all to meet your Grace,
"If they your wishes knew."

"No fool, Niels Ebbeson, art thou,
"Nor man of boorish mind,
"But sure, if thou the road hast lost,
"Another path to find.

"So hark thee now, Niels Ebbeson,
"Wilt thou mine errand ride?
"How many troopers serve with thee,
"On whom may be relied?"

"Among the Jutes both faithful friends
"And kinsmen I can show,
"Who gladly all will follow me
"To meet their country's foe.

"And now with me are thirty men
"Like these who're standing here,
"And be they more, or be they less,
"Alike to me are dear."

"Thirty such troopers dost thou lead?
"It shows thy ready zeal;
"Tomorrow bring to Bugge's yard
"A hundred clad in steel."

Back stepp'd a pace Niels Ebbeson,
And warmly made reply;
"There's neither belted knight nor swain
"Has dared give me the lie.

"Nor is there man or wife alive,
"Shall ever give it me,
"That I will move a foot for him,
"Till I've replied as free."

"Nay hark, my dear Niels Ebbeson,
"No words thereon to spill, —
"Off to thy friend Sir Bugge, and learn
"If he is loyal still."

"If I shall now your errand ride,
"And to Sir Bugge's go,
"Then what on your part I shall say,
"I first would gladly know."

"Sir Bugge has long defied my power,
"And young Paul Gloh as well,
"And Andrew Frost, who first of all
"Came in your troop to swell.

"And thou thyself, Niels Ebbeson,
"Hast riding at thy side
"Men, who till lately shared my bread,
"And me have now defied.

"First I will name young Eske Frost,
"And then his brothers too,
"Who all, without my yea or will,
"From serving me withdrew,

"Many to whom I've kindness shown,
"No more on me depend;
"Ride thou and learn Sir Bugge's plans,
"And see to what they tend."

"I know not what Sir Bugge plans
"To do or let alone;
"But Andrew Frost, while serving you,
"His loyalty has shown.

"A gallant man. Sir Andrew Frost,
"His honour stands so high,
"When he his furlough wished to have,
"His furlough why deny?

"There's still in force from days of old
"A rule in Danish land,
"That troopers, who will serve no more,
"Their furlough may demand.

"None here is consecrate for life
"But monks in cloister pent;
"The trooper rides, the trooper bides,
"E'en where he is most content."

Count Gherrit shortly answered him,
Nor more would stay to know;
"No man his master may desert,
"Just when he likes to go.

"And do not thou, Niels Ebbeson,
"Stop talking here too long;
"But quit at once this Danish realm,
"Or I shall have thee hung.

"With passport thou art hither come,
"With passport thou may'st go;
"I'd make thee, but for breach of faith,
"A thing or two to know."

"You plighted me your princely word,
"Let, what there might, ensue;
"If now you harbour ill designs,
"Your treachery you may rue.

"Robbers you may on gallows hang,
"To hawks and crows a prey;
"So lightly fly from home not I
"From wife and child away.

"If quit I must my native land,
"My children, friends and wife,
"You'll call the day you saw me here
"The worst of all your life."

"I'll hear no more, Niels Ebbeson,
"Off to thy home! begone!
"Or I shall crush thy mail on thee,
"And that I'll do anon."

"No man has yet seen me alarm'd,
"No eye has seen me quake;
"Count Gherrit, look to your affairs,
"A good defence to make."

"Talk on and vent thy rage and spite,
"As ever seems thee best;
"Thou'rt till tomorrow safe for me,
"Till sinks the sun to rest.

"Till evening hour tomorrow night
"Thou goest 'safe and free,
"And then, as true as I'm a Count,
"I'll come and visit thee."

Off rode to his home Niels Ebbeson,
"And raised his hand on high;
"Count Gherrit, I shall soon be back,
"On that you may rely."

Niels Ebbeson the highway took.
And hotly spurr'd his hors";
The count he dared not follow him
With all his mighty force.

On, till he reached his homestead gate,
He rode at utmost speed;
He told his lovely wife the news,
And pray'd her give him rede.

"Good day, my own, my dearest wife,
"What rede you give me, say:
"The Count will banish me the land,
"And warn'd me yesterday.

"He laid before me there his terms
"To choose me one of three,
"To swear him troth, to quit the land,
"Or hang on gallows tree."

"Methinks the harshest course, my lord,
"Were best to serve our turn,
"To slay the Count, or o'er his head
"The house and all to burn."

"Go eat and drink, my gallant swains,
"And gaily pass the cup;
"We meet in town our work to do,
"Ere yet the sun is up.

"This night, while all in darkness lies,
"The news will come to hand,
"And every good and faithful swain
"Will by his master stand."

Those troopers sware a solemn oath
And on it staked their life,
To ride with him, where he should ride,
And back him well in strife.

They rode by night to Lady-wood,
Their horses there they tied,
And off to find the bald-head Count
To Randers town they hied.

But when to Randers-bridge they came,
'Twas thus their leader spake;
"The swain who will not go with us,
"At once his furlough take."

Then forward stepped the youthful Trost,
The one he thought so true;
"My lord, that furlough give to me,
"And horse and saddle too"

The boon he ask'd was granted him,
His horse and saddle too;
Before the set of sun that day
He proved to his master true.

Niels Ebbeson he found the horse,
Where slept the Count within,
And with his spear-point beat the door.
And rais'd a mighty din.

"O rise, my lord, Count Gherrit, rise,"
"Up from your sleep awake,
"The Duke, your brother, sent us here;
"His letter come and take/'

"Hast thou been by my brother sent?
"Thou shalt not tarry long:
"Meet me tomorrow in Cloister church
"'Tween mass and matin song."

"O let your page the letter take,
"The latch a moment raise,
"For Rib town is hard beset,
"And Colding all ablaze.

"I've e'en left Ribe hard besieged,
"Colding and Vedel burnt;
"And hark! Niels Ebbeson is hung,
"I've that for certain learnt."

"If what thou say est is the truth,
"Good news hast thou to tell,
"And high shalt stand in my esteem,
"While I'm alive and well."

"O let him in. Count, let him in,
"No longer now delay,
"The victory's won, the land subdued,
"Hear what he's come to say."

Count Gherrit out of his window look'd.
And saw the threatening foe;
"Wretch that I am to've hither come!
"'Tis Ebbeson below."

They beat the door with spear and shield,
They brake the bolts in three;
"If thou art there, thou bald-head Count,
"We'll drink a health to thee."

"Wait there below, Niels Ebbeson,
"I'll make thee full amends;
"We'll send to fetch Duke Henry here,
"And other mutual friends."

"Not so thou spakest yesterday
"Oat there on Randers strand;
"Thou wouldest either hang me up,
"Or I should quit the land."

Then thus the Count's small pageboy cried,
Of Niels's kindred born,
"If you are duped with crafty words,
"You'll bring yourself to scorn."

Then up and spake the swarthy swain,
Because he was not white
"'Tis time we cease this idle talk,
"And let the sword-blade bite."

"I've neither fort nor massy tower
"So rich a prize to guard,
"So spare ye not of thrust or blow,
"But deal them quick and hard."

They seiz'd and held his yellow locks
Nor let his prayers avail,
But from his shoulders chopped his head
Over the bedstead rail.

They made it known by beat of drum.
Soon as the Count was slain,
And gladly then would Ebbeson
Move out of town again.

He call'd his men and hasted off,
He dared no longer stay.
But cross'd his march Sir Ove Hals,
And thought to hem his way.

"Now hark thee, good Sir Ove Hals,
"This hindrance prythee cease;
"For brother in-law to me art thou,
"So let us pass in peace/'

"How nearly we are both allied,
"All that full well I know,
"But thou hast foully slain my lord,
"Nor will I let thee go."

Sir Ove soon was forced for aid
His Holster men to call,
But slain, before the day' was closed,
Were he and his troopers all.

In wrath they drew their glittering blades,
For Niels would not retreat;
And fought till lay Sir Ove's head
Low at his kinsman's feet.

Randers bridge went Ebbeson,
Behind him stormed the foe,
But little Trost his swain was there,
And heav'd the bridge below.

True to his uncle proved that day
Young Trost his sister's son,
For, when the Holster men came up,
Bridge o'er the stream was none.

Niels with a poor old woman lodged,
She had two loaves of bread,
And one she gave Niels Ebbeson,
Who struck the bald-pate dead.

God bless thy soul, Niels Ebbeson,
Thou wast a worthy Dane,
And in thy native land's behalf
Its foreign foes hast slain.

And Jesus bless each Danish man
As well with mouth as hand.
If he with all his heart and soul
Defends his native land.