Marsk Stig's Daughters, and Other Songs and Ballads

Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org
by GEORGE BORROW
London: printed for private circulation
1913
Two daughters fair the Marshal had, O grievous was their fate and sad.
The eldest she took her sister’s hand And away they went to Sweden’s land.
Home from the Stevn King Byrgye rode; Up to him Marsk Stig’s daughters trode.
“What women ye who beset my gate? What brings ye hither at eve so late?”
“Daughters of Stig, the Marshal brave, So earnestly thee for help we crave.”
“Hence, hence away, ye outcasts two, Your sire accurst my uncle slew.”
“Guiltless are we of Erik’s blood, So wide we wander in quest of food.”