The Miraculous Cure

Sir Biorn to foreign service went.
Far far away seven winters spent;

And first when all those years were past,
He came to his long left home at last.

Sir Biorn rode up to his courtyard gate,
And near it he saw a pilgrim wait.

"Good Pilgrim, plodding thy way from Rome,
"Hast thou pass'd lately my trulove's home?"

"Aye! yesterday morning I was there,
"And saw and spoke to your trothplight fair.

"And truly were none so fair as she,
"But just for a secret injury.

"The loveliest maid beneath the sun
"Has but one leg to stand upon."

Sir Biorn he call'd his varlets twain,
"Go ye, my palfrey to girth and rein.

"Haste, bring me my good grey palfrey round;
"And get, ye others, that pilgrim bound.

"Down into the tower the slanderer throw,
"While I to the lady's dwelling go."

He halted where lived his trothplight maid,
And met him Christine in furs array M.

"Here standing, Christine, so lovely still!
"How fares my trothplight Ingelille?"

"Fair Ingelille sits in her lonely room,
"To spin her gold and to ply the loom:

"But while the silk with the gold she weaves,
"Her heart with a secret sorrow heaves."

Sir Biorn in a mantle wrapp'd his head,
And up to Ingelille's chamber sped.

She saw at the door her trulove stand,
And kindly she held him forth her hand.

The soft blue cushioned couch she pressed,
"Here seat you with me, Sir Biorn, and rest/'

Fair Ingelille call'd - "Go maiden mine,
"And bring me hither the horn of wine."

"I taste not of wine or other thing,
"Unless my trulove the goblet bring."

Fair Ingelille then her tale began.
While streaming tears from her eyelids ran.

"Now hark, Sir Biorn, sit at my side,
"My troubles from you I will not hide.

"In th' evening at twilight I was born;
"My mother had died ere dawn of mom:

"And while they laid her in Christian mould,
The passing bell for my father toll'd.

"Of all but a brother was I bereft,
"And me in a cloister that brother left.

"The foster-mother he found for me,
"A good and a gentle dame was she.

"Her maidens they nursed me one by one,
"And round the gallery let me run.

"As, tired, to bed I wish'd to go,
"A boiling cauldron stood below

"I tripp'd, and fell within its brim,
"And so was scalded off a limb.

"For when they drew me from out its wave,
"My foot there could no master save.

"And now take back this clasp so red,
"For wrong it were for me to wed."

With crutch beneath her mantle blue
And tearful eyes the maid withdrew.

Out to the garden alone she went
With grief in her gentle bosom pent

She knelt and pray'd on her bare knee;
"Jesus, Lord, show grace on me.

"Lord Jesus, help me, hear my cry,
"And I will a virgin live and die."

'Twas on a crutch she thither crept,
But back on both her feet she stepp'd.

"Take back, Sir Biorn, your clasp of gold;
"Tho' now you may wish your bride to hold.

"Take back again your golden band;
"Tho' now you may wish to gain my hand."

He offer'd her all the gold again,
"Fair maiden, my trulove still remain.'

"O keep it yourself, the gold so bright,
"My love to you I shall never plight.

"The clasp and the band yourself retain;
"I'll nevermore trust a knight again. '

"I now retire to a cloister cell,
"Will there to Oar Lady's service dwell."

And into the cloister she withdrew,
And with her went all her maidens too.