’Twas deep at night, and down fell the mist,
To her bed the young bride they assist.
Sir Samsing spoke to his nightingales twain:
“Before my young bride sing now a strain.
“A song now sing which shall avouch
Whether I’ve a maiden or none in my couch.”
“A maid’s in the bed, that’s certain and sure,
Gudrune is standing yet on the floor.”
“Proud Ingefred straight from my couch retire!
Gudrune come hither, or dread my ire!
“Now tell me, Gudrune, with open heart,
What made thee from thy bed depart?”
“My father, alas! dwelt near the strand,
When war and bloodshed filled the land.
“Full eight there were broke into my bower,
One only ravished my virgin flower.”
Upon her fair cheek he gave a kiss:
“My dearest, my dearest, all sorrow dismiss;
“My swains they were that broke into thy bower,
’Twas I that gathered thy virgin flower.”