“My mother in the hill doth sit,
And plays with gold that round is strewn;
But I stole away from out the hill,
To play upon my harp a tune.”
“O ere the Dwarf shall thee possess,
And his shall be a bliss so high,
O I will lose my youthful life,
And break my faulchion willingly.”
Then answered straight the Dwarf’s daughter,
And with a frown thus answered she:
“O thou may’st gain a lovelier bride,
But ne’er, Sir Knight, wilt thou gain me.
“Now haste away, Sir Thunye the knight,
I rede thee for thy life take heed;
My father and my bold bridegroom
I ween will both be here with speed.”
It was her mother, the Dwarf’s Lady,
She peeped from out the mountain’s side;
And she was aware of Sir Thunye there,
Standing beneath the linden wide.
Out came her mother, the Dwarf’s Lady,
And anger shone upon her face:
“Now hear Wolfhilda, daughter mine,
But ill beseems thee such a place.
“Thou’dst better sit within the hill,
And sew the linen white as snow,
Than come to strike the gold harp here,
Beneath the verdant forest bough.
“The King of the Dwarfs has wedded thee.
Thy free consent he sought and won;
Yet thou hast dared Sir Thunye here
To chain with stroke of magic Rune.”
It was the daughter of the Dwarf
Must weeping into the mountain flee;
Devoid of sense Sir Thunye went
Behind her, nor could hear nor see.
But hear what did the wife of the Dwarf:
With silk so soft a stool she spread,
And there he sat till crow of cock,
As though he had been stark and dead.