And so they took the lovely bride,
On the bride-bench placed her frame;
And to skink before the bride himself
The carlish Count he came.
Then she ate six oxen bodies,
And three fat swine beside;
Loaves seven hundred were her meal,
Ere for a draught she cried.
Before her thirst she could assuage
She drank ten casks of ale;
She set the can once more to her mouth
And to hickuping then she fell.
The carlish Count strode up and down,
And wrung his hands so sore:
“O whence can this young bride be come?
She does so much devour!”
The Count he called to his Botelere:
“Thou hadst better broach away,
For we have here such a wondrous bride,
She’ll drink for ever and aye.”
Answered then Lokke Leyemand,
’Neath his sleeve he laughed with glee:
“For full eight days she has not ate.
She longed so much for thee.”
Outspake the laidly carlish Count,
And thus the Count did cry:
“O, call ye in my serving swains,
Bid them come instantly.
“Go, fetch me hither the hammer of gold,
Glad I’ll surrender it;
If I can either in honour or shame,
Of such a young bride be quit.”
The Kempions eight in number were,
Who the hammer brought on a tree;
They laid it down so courteously
Across the young bride’s knee.
It was then the youthful bride
Took up the hammer big;
I tell to ye for a verity
She swung it like a twig.