“And if I shall fare to the war this year,
And risk my life among thy foes,
Do thou take care of my Lady dear,
Of Ingeborg that beauteous rose.”
Then answer’d Erik, the youthful King,
With a laugh in his sleeve thus answer’d he:
“No more I swear has thy lady to fear
Than if my sister dear were she.
“Full well I’ll watch Dame Ingeborg,
And guard and cherish her night and day;
As little I swear has thy Lady to fear
As if thou, dear Marshal, at home didst stay.”
It was then the bold Sir Marshal Stig,
From out of the country he did depart.
In her castle sate his lonely mate,
Fair Ingeborg, with grief at heart.
“Now saddle my steed,” cried Eric the King,
“Now saddle my steed,” King Eric cried,
“To visit the Dame of beauteous fame
Your King will into the country ride.”
“Hail, hail to thee, Dame Ingeborg,
If thou wilt not be coy and cold,
A shirt, I trow, for me thou’lt sew,
And array that shirt so fair with gold.”
“Sew’d I for thee a shirt, Sir King,
And worked that shirt, Sir King, with gold,
Should Marsk Stig hear of that he’d ne’er
With favour again his wife behold.”
“Now list, now list, Dame Ingeborg,
Thou art, I swear, a beauteous star,
Live thou with me in love and glee,
Whilst Marshal Stig is engag’d in war.”
Then up and spake Dame Ingeborg,
For nought was she but a virtuous wife:
“Rather, I say, than Stig betray,
Sir King, I’d gladly lose my life.”
“Give ear, thou proud Dame Ingeborg,
If thou my leman and love will be,
Each finger fair of thy hand shall bear
A ring of gold so red of blee.”