That so there might be no one who could the threshold cross
Until the songs were ended, soon heard with praises truthful.
None went into her bower but Horant only and Morunc the youthful.
[395]
She bade the bard be seated: “Now sing to me once more,”
Thus spake the high-born maiden, “those songs I heard before.
For this I feel sore craving; than aught beside ’tis sweeter
Unto your lays to listen; than any gem or pastime ’tis far better.”
[396]
“If I might dare to sing to you, most fair and lovely maid,