“Here thou sitt’st, dear Housewife mine,
What advice canst thou bestow?
Gert will drive me from the land,
Hath declared himself my foe.
“To my choice three things he put,
Least of all I liked the third;
I should join him, or the land
Quit, or hang, such was his word.”
“Ah! what counsel can I give
From my simple woman’s mind?
The most desperate counsel’s best,
Can we but that counsel find.
“The most desperate counsel’s best,
If we can but it discover;
Either slay the tyrant, or
Burn the house the tyrant over.
“To the smithy lead your steeds,
Let them all be shod anew;
Turn ye all the heels afore,
Thus your trace will cheat the view.
“Turn ye all the heels afore,
Track ye thus, I ween, can no man;
Never tell to mortal wight,
Thou hast learnt this from a woman.”
“Here my gallant swains ye sit,
Merry-making o’er your drink;
Every lad who loves his lord
From his lord now must not shrink.”
Up then rose the Courtmen bold,
To take on anew agreed;
Save Sir Niels’ sister’s son,
From his uncle would recede.
Swore the knights a solemn oath
That for him their lives they’d stake,
And with him would dauntless ride
Wheresoe’er a fray he’d make.
So they rode to Fruerlund,
From their steeds they there dismount;
Into Randers then they walked,
To beat up the hairless Count.