Hillelille and Hildebrand (D)

Fair Hillelille in her bower sits,
Her fine-wrought seam no moment quits.
"To God alone is known my care,
"I tell it not to mortal ear."

But broiders that with silken thread,
She ought to work in gold so red;

And where with silk she ought to sew,
Is seen the ruddy gold to glow.

A message soon to the Queen is brought,
"Fair Hillelille sews all distraught."

The Queen has veil'd her royal head,
And up to Hillelille has sped.

"Why daily toiling on, my child,
"And yet thy needle ply so wild?

"Because my happiness is fled,
"I weep and wildly draw the thread.

"My father was a king so great,
"Twelve knights must at his table wait.

"My tender age from harm to guard
"These knights he bade hold watch and ward.

"Eleven were brave and ne'er deceived,
"The twelfth of honour me bereav'd.

"A king's son he from English land,
"Who won my heart, named Hildebrand.

"But scarce within each other's arm,
"We heard below a dire alarm;

"My father o'er his castle call,
"Up! up! my men, and arm ye all;

"Your mail put on, your courage show;
"Sir Hildebrand's a stubborn foe.'

"They beat the door with sword and spear;
"Get up, Sir Hildebrand, come here.'

"He gently tapp'd my pallid cheek,
"My name I pray thee not to speak;

"Nor, if some drops of blood should fall,
"To death thy bleeding lover call.'

"From out my door he boldly flung,
"And hard and fast his sword he swung.

"Upon their foremost rank he flew,
"Seven of my fair-hair'd brothers slew;

"And would have slaughtered with the rest
"The youngest, whom I loved the best.

"Then cried I, 'Stay, Sir Hildebrand,
"For my sake stay thy murderous hand;

"At least my youngest brother spare,
"The news let him to his mother bear.'

"Alas! the name was scarcely said,
"Ere eight deep wounds had laid him dead.

"My brother then with knotted band
"Bound to his girth my aching hand.

"And there was not so small a root,
"But wrench'd or tore my tender foot;

No straggling briar that cross'd the road,
"But me its share of torture owed;

"No stream so swift, or deep a dam,
"But in it dash'd his horse, and swam.

"At last we reach'd the castle gate,
"And there in tears my mother sate.

"A prison tower he bade them build,
"With thorns and brambles had it fill'd;

"And dressed in silk from out my bower
"He threw me into the dismal tower.

"Where'er I turn'd, by same sharp thorn
"My foot or arm was rudely torn.

"My mother fain would sell me, she,
"My brother hang me on gallows tree

"They sold me, brought with me a bell,
"In Maryby is heard its knell.

"It gave a first, a fatal stroke,
"Enough, my mother's heart it broke/'

Before her story all was said,
The maid in the Queen's arms lay dead.