The eldest she took her sister’s hand
And away they went to Sweden’s land.
Home from the Stevn King Byrgye rode;
Up to him Marsk Stig’s daughters trode.
“What women ye who beset my gate?
What brings ye hither at eve so late?”
“Daughters of Stig, the Marshal brave,
So earnestly thee for help we crave.”
“Hence, hence away, ye outcasts two,
Your sire accurst my uncle slew.”
“Guiltless are we of Erik’s blood,
So wide we wander in quest of food.”
The eldest she takes her sister’s hand,
And away they went into Norway’s land.
Home from the Ting King Erik rode
Up to him Marsk Stig’s daughters trode.
“What women are ye whom here I view,
And what may ye in my country do?”
“Daughters of Stig, the Marshal brave
So earnestly thee for help we crave.”