Gert the Count to Randers rode,
To bad counsel lending ear;
For from old it stood foretold,
He should end there his career.
He would not the place avoid,
But seemed bent to tempt his fate;
Of the rural lords and thanes
He the quarters up will beat.
Knights and freeborn men apart,
There trooped eighteen thousand bows;
Forty thousand made they all,
Who could such a host oppose?
To Niels Ebbesen the Count
Word to appear before him sent;
And safe convoy him he gave,
Which should doubt and fear prevent.
Gert the Count met Ebbesen
North of Randers by the sea:
“Welcome be, Niels Ebbesen!
Say how matters stand with thee.”
To Niels stretched the Count his hand,
And to parleying straight they go;
There was little then of jest,
And of dallying less, I trow.
“Sir Niels Ebbesen, thou art
Welcome as the flowers in spring;
How stand minds in North Jutland,
Thence what tidings dost thou bring?
“Say how all thy wealthy friends
And thy heart’s loved lady are;
Which dost wish for at my hands,
Smiling peace, or bloody war?”
“Well stand minds in North Jutland,
Each man’s courage there’s erect;
Say, dost come as friend or foe?
What from thee may we expect?
“I have kindred in the North,
Men of wealth and noble race;
Shouldst thou it require of them
They’ll be ready for thy Grace.”