“Thou shalt to me thy daughter give,
And divide with me thy land,
Or thou shalt find a kempion good
In the ring ’gainst me to stand.”
“O thou shalt ne’er my daughter get,
Nor a brief for half my land,
I’ll quickly find a kempion good
Shall fight thee hand to hand.”
Then strode the Monarch of the Danes
To his castle hall amain:
“Now which of ye, my courtiers, will
The lovely Damsel gain?
“Here sit ye all my Danish swains
On whom I bread bestow,
Now which of ye will risk his life
To lay the Berner low?
“I’ll give to him my daughter dear,
The wondrous lovely may,
Who in the ring with Jutt of Bern
Shall dare the desperate fray.”
In silence all the kempions sat,
None dared reply a word,
Except alone Orm Ungerswayne,
The lowest at the board.
Except alone Orm Ungerswayne,
He bounded o’er the board:
I tell to ye in verity
He spake a manly word.
“Wilt thou to me thy daughter give,
And divide with me thy land?
O then will I the kempion be,
Against the Jutt to stand.
“And well will I your daughter win,
And the prize alone will earn;
I am the lad to dare the fray
In the ring with the Jutt of Bern.”
It was the lofty Jutt of Bern
He o’er his shoulder glar’d:
“O who may yonder mouseling be,
From whom those words I heard?”