It was Hacon, Norroway’s King,
Survey’d the gallant band with pride:
“I’m missing one—my Andfindson,
O where does Olaf the stripling bide?”
Then answer’d him the little footboy,
Not far that stood from the Monarch’s knee:
“Olaf, my Lord, will come on board
As soon as weigh’d the anchors be.”
Then out they stood from Bergen town,
And out from Bergen’s mole, I trow;
Silk is the sail they spread in the gale,
Painted with blue is the deck below.
“Now Magnus hear, my son so dear,
At home I tell thee thou must stay:
Aarhus to ward and Bergen to guard,
For the keys of Norroway’s land are they.”
“Listen all dearest father mine,
Recall thy word I entreat of thee;
To rule rough earls and Norroway churls
Too ignorant far and too young I be.”
“Then clothe thee straight and clothe thee well,
Since thou wilt follow me, my child:
But much I fear thou can’st not bear
The toss of the sea and its billows wild.”
So out they stood from Bergen town,
And ’twas at fall of evening grey;
The folk on the shore they griev’d full sore
As that brave armament sail’d away.
And when they came to Lindeness,
And the mounting billow the sail bespray’d,
In the breeze so fair the ship stood there
As though to the bottom it fast were made.
Then said the King as he lean’d upon
His trusty faulchion’s hilt of gold:
“I’m here in the dark, is there any clerk
Or layman here can this thing unfold?”
Then out spoke Nilaus Noderness,
As a glance he flung upon the deep:
“Doom’d men on board, have we my Lord,
The truth from thee I cannot keep.”