Sir Sallemand

A brave young knight, Sir Sallemand,
And Mett, such her name,
They dearly each the other loved,
The knight and eke the dame.

His passion could Sir Sallemand
Nor check, conceal, nor guide,
Tho' both were of two brothers born,
By blood so near allied.

An aunt had he, Sir Sallemand,
Dame Ingeborg by name,
And of(en he to her house would ride
To tell and wail his flame.

"Right welcome here, Sir Sallemand!
"Welcome, dear nephew mine!
"Up in my chamber take your seat,
"And drink of mead and wine."

But rather chose the pensive knight
Out in the cool to stand.
And there the goblet brought his aunt,
And placed it in his hand.

"I cannot eat, I cannot drink,
"For me no goblet fill;
"My thoughts are on my lady-love,
"My dearest Mettelille."

"But listen, good Sir Sallemand,
"Such hopeless passion quell;
"So near akin as you and she
"Together may not dwell."

"If Mettelille I may not have
"To soothe my cankering pain,
"Shall never any, dame or maid,
"Sleep in my arms again."

"If you Have plighted her your troth,
"Send off at once to Rome,
"And pray the Pope to pardon you,
"Before you bring her home."

"Ye Ladies know each in and out
"Like market-going wain;
"I've none in all the world beside
"To whom to tell my pain."

And as that kind good lady bade.
The knight sat down and wrote.
And sent his page to Mettelille
To carry her the note.

To ask the Lady Mettelille,
The knight that letter sent,'
If she with him would go to Rome
To beg the Pope's assent

She wrote and gave her maid the note.
And in it thus replied;
"Where in the world so e'er he went,
"Would she be at his side."

Then bade the knight Sir Sallemand
His trusty steed to shoe,
And she, Dame Mettelille, her wain
Got furnish'd all anew.

And so the knight and lady fair
From Denmark rode away,
But in their tearful eyes was seen
How sorrowful were they.

As into Paris town he rode,
His lady near his side,
Came out the good kind burgers all
To meet the knight and bride.

They spared not costly silken cloth
To spread beneath her feet.
But all their kindness could not cheer
A heart with grief replete.

The lily up to her room they led,
But worse and worse she grew;
Sir Sallemand went to and fro,
He show'd himself so true.

"Cheer up, dear Lady Mettelille!
"Cheer up! no longer grieve,
"Tomorrow comes the brief from Rome,
"That wedded we may live."

"Nay, hear me, dear Sir Sallemand,
"All further trouble spare,
"Go fetch a priest to give me shrift,
"My pain I cannot bear."

Up in her chamber soon was heard
A cry of loud alarm;
Fair Mettelille had sunk and died
All in her lover's arm.

And in the church, while sang the priests
The dirge's dismal note.
Sir Sallemand's heart burst in twain,
And blood pour'd from his throat.

South of the church they buried her,
And north of it the knight,
But from their breasts two roses sprang
That brought their love to light:

For kindly those two roses twined
Their flowers of crimson hue;
Since Tristram's and his Isold's death
Was never love so true.