Havbor and Signelil

Havbor the King and Sivord the King
Have fallen out in strife,
All for the stately Signelil
That was so fair a wife.
—Ne’er wilt thou win such a fair one.

Havbor the King he dreamt a dream,
And woeful did he wake;
He went to seek his mother,
And unto her he spake:

“Methought that I was up in heaven,
And that was so fair a town;
And I held proud Signelil in mine arms,
And we fell from the sky adown.”

“And didst thou dream thou wast in heaven,
And fellest adown from the sky,
That bodes that thou wilt win the maid,
But for her sake shalt die!”

“And if I win the maiden
Such happiness have I,
I count the cost but little
That I for her must die!”

Havbor he let his locks wax long,
And clad him in woman’s gear,
And so he rode to Denmark
As though he maiden were.

All in the midst of the castle garth
His garment changèd he,
Then entered in the ladies’ bower
Proud Signelil to see.

“Here sittest thou, stately Signelil,
With matrons and maids arow!
Havbor hath sent me hither
To learn to broider and sew.”

“All the woman’s craft I know
Shall be for thee displayed;
Shalt eat from the self-same dish as I,
And sleep with my serving-maid.”

“Oh, I have eaten with king’s children,
And lain in their arms at night;
And must I sleep with thy serving-maid
I shall die of the sore despite.”

“Now lithe and listen, my beauteous maid,
Let all thy sorrow be!
Shalt eat of the self-same dish as I,
And sleep by the side of me.”

He’s taken out a knife so small,
And cut as best he could;
He’s shaped them out, both hind and hart,
That run in good greenwood.

Still sat all the haughty maids
And sewed as best they might,
All save Havbor, the son of kings,
His needle still did bite.

Up and spake the serving-maid,
So evil a tongue had she:
“Oh, never saw I so poor a seam
Sewn by a fair ladye!

“Ever her needle is in her mouth,
She sets no stitches fine;
And ever she drains the goblet out,
So deep as they pour the wine!

“Ne’er have I seen a lady’s hands
Stiffer than steel, I trow!
And ne’er have I seen so bold an eye
Under a lady’s brow!”

“Now hold thy tongue, thou evil maid,
And speak no spite of me!
Let me turn mine eyes where’er I may
I’ll turn them not on thee!”

Now all were bound to slumber,
Whenas the eve was spent;
Havbor and stately Signelil
To the self-same chamber went.

She laid her hand on Havbor’s breast
That shone with gold so red:
“Why hast thou a bosom so like a man,
And not the breasts of a maid?”

“Oh, the custom it is in my father’s land
That maids to the Thing should fare,
And therefore have I no maiden’s breasts
Because of the mail we wear!

“Now tell me, stately Signelil,
While we are all alone,
Is there ever a man in all the world
Thou hast set thy heart upon?”

“Oh, there’s never a man in all the world
That lies my heart within,
Saving young Havbor, the son of kings,
That I may never win.”

“And is it Havbor, the son of kings,
That to thy heart is dear,
Then turn thee hither, mine own true love!
He is sleeping all so near!”

“And art thou Havbor, the son of kings?
Why hast thou shamèd me?
Why didst not ride to my father’s court
With hawk on hand so free?”

“Oh, how should I ride with hawk on hand
To thy father’s court so free?
Full well I know thy wrathful sire
Would hang me to a tree!”

“Now hush thee, hush thee, Havbor,
And take thou heed, I pray!
My serving-maid lies waking
And listens to all we say.”

“Oh, let her lie and listen,
Thine evil serving-maid!
Beneath my bolster are hidden
Both corselet and trusty blade.

“Beneath my bolster are hidden
Both corselet and sword so true;
And were a hundred warriors here
The meeting they should rue!”

Oh, she has heard their counsel,
The evil serving-maid;
She’s stolen away his byrnie brown
But and his trusty blade.

Both trusty blade and byrnie brown
She’s secretly stolen away;
She’s hied her to the chamber fair
Where Sivord the King he lay.

“Oh, sleep ye, wake ye, my noble lord?
Your slumber is all too deep!
For now lies Havbor, the son of kings,
By your daughter’s side asleep.”

“Now hold thy peace, thou evil maid,
For an thou art a liar,
To-morrow or ever the sun goes down
Thou shalt be burnt with fire!”

“Lithe now and listen, King Sivord,
Well may ye trust my word;
For here is Havbor’s byrnie brown
But and his trusty sword.”

Up he sprang, King Sivord,
And cried thro’ bower and hall:
“Rise up, rise up, my merry men,
And don your armour all!

“Now don your mail, my merry men,
And clasp it well enough,
For here is Havbor, the son of kings,
A warrior tall and tough!”

Oh, they have knocked at the chamber door
With glaive and eke with spear:
“Rise up now, Havbor, son of kings!
Come forth and meet us here!”

Up sprang Havbor, the son of kings,
Or ever they spake the word,
And he has missed his byrnie brown,
But and his trusty sword.

“Oh, gone, gone is my byrnie,
And gone my blade so true!
Now by my troth, proud Signelil,
This meeting we shall rue!”

All hail to Havbor, son of kings,
That fought like a warrior stout!
Ne’er could his foes come nigh him
While the boards of the bed held out.

Oh, some he slew with his naked hands,
And some underfoot did tread;
Full thirty of King Sivord’s men
By Signild’s bower lay dead.

They’ve taken Havbor, the son of kings,
And fetters on him they draw;
He burst them all asunder
As they had been of straw.

Oh, shame be on the serving-maid
That gave them counsel there:
“Never shall ye bind Havbor
But with proud Signild’s hair!”

They took a hair of Signild’s head
To bind him foot and hand;
His haughty heart had broken
Ere he would burst that band.

“Now harken, haughty Signelil!
Wilt show thy love to me,
Then burn thy bower and all therein
When they hang me to a tree!”

“Oh, is there a man of my father’s men
That in thy death hath part,
Be sure I will avenge it
All on his own sweetheart!”

Up spake Havbor, the son of kings,
When first he saw the tree:
“Hang up my cloak of scarlet
A sign for all to see!

“Hang up my cloak of scarlet
That is both fair and fine!
The ladies all will weep and wail
When first they see the sign.”

It was stately Signelil
To roof and reed set fire;
She and all her maidens
Burned in the self-same pyre.

Long stood Havbor, the son of kings,
To look his last on land,
Until he saw proud Signild’s bower
That all in flame did stand.

“Take down, take down my cloak of red,
And cast it to earth so deep,
For an I had ten thousand lives
Not one of them would I keep!”

Up and spake King Sivord,
That looked, and needs must speak:
“Oh, what is the bale a-burning there,
But and the driving reek?”

Up and spake the little foot-page,
And sore his tears ran down:
“Oh, that is stately Signelil
That lets her love be shown!”

“Save her, stately Signelil!
See that ye ride and run!
Get ye in haste to the gallows
And save King Havbor’s son!”

When they came to the bower
Signelil’s soul was sped;
When they came to the gallows
Havbor was hanged and dead.

“Oh, had I known but yesternight
How deep in love were they,
I would not ha’ done for all Denmark
The deed I ha’ done this day!”

Now woe is me for the gallows-tree,
And the bower in ashes laid!
They’ve buried her in the earth alive,
The cruel serving-maid.
—Ne’er wilt thou win such a fair one.