“My Lord sell not the lands so broad
Your fathers won with toil and slaughter,
But seek Sir Asbiorn’s high abode,
And ask of him his lovely daughter.
“His daughter Alhed thou shalt wed,
And with her live in pomp and splendour;
I’ll stand ye in a mother’s stead,
And ever kindly service render.”
“O I will wed no damsel bright,
When I can vow not faith unshaking;
The Emperor’s daughter I would slight
Since thee my own I’ve failed in making.”
Archdeacon Erland now drew near,
To each a fatherly hand extended:
“Now breathe good-bye, my children dear.
’Tis time that your discourse were ended.”
To himself aside the Archdeacon cried,
Was filled with indignation bitter:
“Now shame the black Canute betide,
Of this fond pair the ruthless splitter.
Sir Axel to the lovely maid
Now bids good-night with groans and sighing;
His heart with sorrow down is weigh’d,
Like heart of wretch in fetters lying.
Wends to her chamber Valborg fair,
Her maidens all behind her pacing;
Her heart with anguish and despair
With more than furnace heat was blazing.
Early in the morning tide
The sun began to shine so proudly,
Queen Malfred to her maidens cried
Within her bower oft and loudly.
To work the gold so red of blee
Queen Malfred has her maidens ordered;
But still stood Valborg, still stood she,
Her heart with care was all disordered.
“Now Valborg hear, thou damsel dear,
Why sitt’st thou lonely and dejected?
A joy to thee it sure must be,
Thou art a prince’s bride elected.”