The Tale of Brynild, and King Valdemar and His Sister: Two Ballads

They met on the lofty hall’s high balcony,
Together discoursed they so sorrowfully.

They gave then each other a tender caress,
And swooned to the earth from of grief the excess.

The year has revolved, and home now from the fray,
King Valdemar cometh triumphant and gay.

In, in through the portal King Valdemar strode,
Sophia received him in complaisant mode.

About and around him King Valdemar stared:
“Say! where is my sister, and how has she fared?”

Then sly ’neath her scarlet laughed Sophy the Queen:
“It is full three months now since thy sister I’ve seen.”

Sophia exclaim’d: “She is not to be taught,
My advice and monition she holdeth at naught.”

“O why dost thou thus of my sister complain?
In honour she liv’d without ever a stain.”

“The chamber of stone she has long made her home,
There she of a little child light has become.”

Then the heart of the monarch was smitten with grief:
“To thy words, O Sophia, I yield no belief.”

“The blessed Lord’s truth and no lie have I told,
She invited me e’en her child-birth to behold.”

To five of his good knights spake sternly the King:
“Depart, and my sister straight home to me bring.”

The knights rode away as King Valdemar said,
Much rather, much rather, would they have been dead.

They struck on the door ’neath their mantle of skin:
“Sweet princess Kirstina, arise, let us in.”

To the chamber straight came the true serving lass:
“We crave thy leave into the chamber to pass.”

“O sirs, ye may enter as free as the morn,
For nobody here any baby has borne.”

Then in sorrowful mood good Sir Peter replied:
“God grant that thy words I may see verified.”

“Arise, little Kirsten, thyself quick array,
For thou to thy brother this night must away.

“Array thyself quick, for in hurry we are,
Thy brother the King has returned from the war.”

“Alack, I dare venture my gold coronet,
That I shall my death by this night-journey get.

“My daughter now take, and in linen enfold,
The face of her mother no more she’ll behold.

“Assist ye my daughter to Christentie’s breast,
I fear that her luck will not be of the best.

“Let the name that ye give her be proud Ingerlill,
My fortune intends for me nothing but ill.”

Little Kirsten her faithful maid servant address’d:
“Now fetch to me hither, I pray, my gilt chest.”

The chest she unlocked where lay stored all her gear,
And distributed that midst her servants so dear.

And most to her maid she thought fit to award,
For she was to be her child’s teacher and guard.

The gold, the red gold, she has given her so free,
That tender and kind to her child she might be.

“Every lady can well imagine how fit
At present I am on my courser to sit.

“And each man, I am sure, can imagine how ill
A journey nocturnal agree with me will.”

On the saddle they placed her, with hearts full of care,
Glittered like the spun gold her beautiful hair.

And when they arrived at the lofty castelle,
Down, down from her horse little Kirstenlill fell.

At the window the Queen stood and laughed with delight:
“Come hither and view of your sister the plight.”

To lift her from the ground little Knud was not slow:
“In the name of Lord Jesus the whole truth avow.”