The Long Ballad of Marsk Stig (Extract)

Sir Marstig has donned his armour of proof
And ridden away to the Thing,
With his merry men well weaponed in steel,
All for to seek the King:
—My noble lord, the young Sir Marstig.

It was young Sir Marstig
Before the Thing stood forth;
He greeted the redesmen of the realm
And the nobles of the north.

Sir Marstig stood in open Thing,
And thus did speak and say:
“Because my wife hath suffered wrong
Do I stand here to-day.

“Oh, I fared forth to a far countrie
And risked for the realm my life—
Thou satst at home, King Erik,
To ravish my fair young wife!”

Up spake young King Erik,
And smiled ’neath cloak of vair:
“Oh, her consent and will thereto
As good as mine they were!”

Up he spake, Sir Marstig,
In mood that needs must mourn:
“Oh, well we wot the ancient saw
That scathe must follow scorn.

“Now thou hast ravished my fair young wife
A mock o’ me to make,
But wot thou wilt, King Erik,
I’ll slay thee for her sake!”

It was young Sir Marstig
That turned him from the Thing:
“Bear witness, redesmen of the realm,
That I defy the King!”

“Now lithe and list, Sir Marstig,
And let such prating be!
Castles and holds and lands so green
All will I give to thee.”

“Oh, little reck I of holds or lands,
They ne’er shall ’suage my shame!
I would that the wrong had ne’er been wrought
Against my dainty dame!”

“Oh, Marstig, never so fast canst ride,
But I can ride faster still;
But wilt thou be mine enemy
Then follow thy wasteful will!”

“Oh, let my riding be ne’er so slow,
And ne’er so mild my mind,
Yet have we seen a small greyhound
Run down both hart and hind.

“Only do thou remember
The cause I have had to plead;
Oft haps it that a hillock small
Doth throw a mighty steed!”

* * * * *

Now when Sir Marstig slew the King
Little he rued the deed!
Forth he fared to Skanderborg
All on his swiftest steed.

It was she, the Queen o’ Danes,
Forth from the window spied:
“Oh, yonder I see the self-made King
That to our hold doth ride!”

“Nay, never a self-made King am I
For all thy words, I ween;
That name befits Drost Lovmand,
Lay last thine arms between.

“Oh, little to thee King Erik’s death,
And less thy dule and pine,
So long as he lives, Drost Lovmand,
And thou dost hold him thine!”

Up spake young Prince Christopher,
Clad all in the scarlet red:
“Oh, little amends, I wot, ye make
For my father fallen and dead!”

Up he stood, Prince Christopher,
And spake a royal word:
“Shalt get thee gone from out the realm
If I am King and lord!”

“And must I depart from Denmark
To sail the sea so deep,
So many a widow will I make
That the noblest dames shall weep!

“And must I go a-roaming
From wife and bairn, O King,
Denmark shall feel my foot, I trow,
Both winter and summer and spring!”

* * * * *

It was young Sir Marstig,
Home to his hold did fare;
It was beauteous Ingeborg
Came forth to meet him there.

Up spake young Sir Marstig,
And held her in his arm:
“Now have I slain King Erik
That wrought thee hurt and harm!

“Now wilt thou follow an outlawed man
To dwell a landless dame,
Rather than be a light o’ love,
And bear the King his name?”

“Oh, rather I’d follow an outlawed man
To dwell a Danish dame,
Than I would be a light o’ love
And bear the King his name!”

* * * * *

Oh, they have builded a hold at Hjælm,
A hold with tower and wall,
Not to be won with engine of war,
By arrow nor cannon-ball.

Forth to his field went the farmer
All for to sow his corn:
“Now help us, God in heaven above,
Since Hjælm hath gotten a horn!”

Marstig he builded a hold at Hjælm,
A hold with wall and tower;
The King in vain laid siege thereto
With all his royal power.
—My noble lord, the young Sir Marstig.