They ’twixt the two the cloth cut through,
A portion each in hand retaineth;
However great and high his state
There’s none that o’er his fortune reigneth.
“The handkerchief is parted now,
Ye have parted us for good and ever,
But whilst with life our breasts shall glow
Our love ye shall dissever never.”
The gold ring off her hand to take
And bracelet from her wrist they hastened;
His gifts they gave to Axel back,
The knot of love was now unfastened.
The gold he on the altar threw,
To Olave that he consecrated,
And swore to bide to Valborg true
As long as he to live was fated.
Then wroth grew Hogen son of the King,
Who stood his scarlet garb array’d in:
“Since her from mind thou canst not fling
’Tis clear and plain she is no maiden.”
Outspoke of the clerks the wisest wight,
E’en Erland he the good Archdeacon:
“The man who does not know the might
Of love an ignorant man I reckon.
“With water we the fire can quench,
And slake the brand that’s fiercely glowing,
But though the flame with floods we drench
The flame of love will yet be growing.
“The sun shines bright on hill and plain,
We sink its scorching fury under,
But ah; love’s chain is harder pain,
And none can break its links asunder.”
Then Axel turned to yonder Lord,
His manly cheek with rage was ruddy:
“To-morrow I’ll rebut thy word
Although it cost me life and body.”
Then forward on the flagstone wide
The prince advanced, inflamed with passion:
“To-morrow thou an oath,” he cried,
“Shalt swear without equivocation.