Sir Ranil rode into the courtyard fair,
There stood the Margrave, wrapped all in vair.
(Lo! I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.)
“There standest thou, Margrave, in furs so fine!
Give me now Kirsten, true love o’ mine,
For sorely am I severed from friends and kinsmen.”
Up spake her mother, who loved her so dear—
“Never a sweetheart shalt thou have here,
Since thou art severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
“If ye refuse me my heart’s desire
All that ye have I will burn with fire,
Since I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
“All that I have wilt thou burn with fire?
Then ride thou away with thy heart’s desire,
Tho’ thou art severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
They wrapped her in a cloak of red,
And lifted her on to Ranil’s steed,
Tho’ he was severed both from friends and kinsmen.
Nought for their bridal bower they found
But the wood and the wild and the low green ground—
So sorely was he severed from friends and kinsmen.
“If King Eric thou hadst not slain,
In the fair castles we might have lain—
Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
He struck her on the brow so fair—
“One should order one’s words when guests are there,
Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
He struck her on the cheek so red—
“I never wished King Eric dead,
Altho’ I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.