The Songs of Ranild

“She’ll kiss thee full oft on thy lips rosy red,
But do thou lie still as were life from thee fled.”

Child Stig he gave ear to his foster dame’s rede,
And away to his bed he betook him with speed.

’Twas late in the even, and down fell the dew,
Rigissa flung o’er her her mantle of blue.

The lovely maid she her blue mantle put on,
And unto the chamber of Stig she is gone.

On the door of the chamber begins she to knock:
“Arise, O Child Stig, and thy chamber unlock.”

“At the Ting to appear, I have summoned no wight,
And none I’ll admit to my chamber at night.”

She’s fingers, ten fingers, so tiny and small,
And out of the door she has picked the nails all.

Fifteen iron nails, and a big stud of brass,
Then into the chamber Rigissa could pass.

She sat herself down by the side of the bed,
And played with the locks of the young gallant’s head.

She kissed him full oft on his mouth rosy red,
But still he remained as were life from him fled.

In her arms the young Stig she so fondly did press,
But quiet he lay nor returned her caress.

Child Stig he awoke, and cast up his eyes:
“Who wakes me from sleep in this manner?” he cries.

“If I cannot, Rigissa, my rest for thee take,
To the Dane King, thy brother, complaint I will make.”

“O thou may’st complain if thou feelest inclin’d,
But thou art the man on whom standeth my mind.”

The very next morning ere high was the sun,
Child Stig to complain to the Dane King is gone.

“Dear Lord, I have this to complain of to thee,
For thy sister at night I at rest cannot be.”

The King in displeasure his footboy address’d:
“To come to my presence my sister request.”

Rigissa came in, ’fore the table stood she:
“What mean’st thou, O brother, by sending for me?”

“O here is a knight doth complaint of thee make,
He cannot at night his repose for thee take.”

“It is but God’s truth that his chamber I sought,
But nothing unseemly betwixt us was wrought.

“Steel, glowing steel, I will bear on my hand,
And of crime with Child Stig I acquitted will stand.”

Long stood the Dane King, full of thought was his head:
“With no better man I my sister can wed.”

All hearts in the Dane King’s palace were gay,
The Dane King has given his sister away.

There was pleasure and smiling in every look,
For his beloved Lady Child Stig the maid took.

Child Stig he brews ale, and the wine doth prepare,
He the Dane King invites to his castle so fair.

The King and his gallant men all biddeth he,
And the Queen of the Danes of the party should be.

Outspake the fair Queen, on her steed as she rode:
“Methinks I behold of Child Stig the abode.”

And thereto the page at her bridle replied:
“Of Stig the brave castle is known far and wide.

“Within with the richest of gold it is graced,
Without with white silver ’tis all over cased.”

And, lo, when the gate of the castle they gained,
Five shaggy white bears stood before it enchained.

And when in procession they entered the court,
Within it the hart and the roebuck did sport.

In the midst of the court was a silver trough long,
Of birds and of animals round it a throng.

Above spread the poplar and linden their shade,
In its coolness the hart and the little hind played.