Upstood the smallest of the Trolds,
And round he roll’d his eyes:
“O we will hie to the yeoman’s house,
And o’er him hold assize.
“He hews away our sheltering wood,
Meanwhile shall we be tame?
No! I from him his wife will take,
And make him suffer shame.”
All the Trolds in the hill that were
Wild for the fray upbound;
They hie away to the yeoman’s house,
Their tails all curling round.
Seven and a hundred were the Trolds,
Their laidliness was great;
To the yeoman’s house they’ll go as guests,
With him to drink and eat.
The hound is yelling in the yard,
The herdsman blows his horn;
Crows the cock and clucks the hen
As the yeoman throws them corn.
Of Villenskov the yeoman saw
The Trolds the window through:
“Now help me Jesu, Mary’s son,
Those trolds have me in view.”
He sign’d the cross in every nook,
But mostly in his room;
Some of the Trolds in fright thereat
Flew to the forest’s gloom.
Some flew east, and some flew west,
And some flew north away;
And others flew to the valleys deep,
Where still, I trow, they stay.
But ah! the smallest of the Trolds
Bold enter’d at the door;
For crossing he refus’d to flee,
Was bent on mischief sore.
The housewife thought of a good device,
She plac’d him at the board,
And before him set both ale and meat,
With many a courteous word.