V.
The king of Norse in summer tyde,
Puff'd up with pow'r and might,
Landed in fair Scotland the isle 35
With mony a hardy knight.
The tydings to our good Scots king
Came, as he sat at dine,
With noble chiefs in brave aray,
Drinking the blood-red wine. 40
VI.
"To horse, to horse, my royal liege,
Your faes stand on the strand,
Full twenty thousand glittering spears
The king of Norse commands."
Bring me my steed Mage dapple gray, 45
Our good king rose and cry'd,
A trustier beast in a' the land
A Scots king nevir try'd.
VII.
Go little page, tell Hardyknute,
That lives on hill sae hie, 50
To draw his sword, the dread of faes,
And haste and follow me.
The little page flew swift as dart
Flung by his master's arm,
"Come down, come down, lord Hardyknute, 55
And rid your king frae harm."
VIII.
Then red red grew his dark-brown cheeks,
Sae did his dark-brown brow;
His looks grew keen, as they were wont
In dangers great to do; 60
He's ta'en a horn as green as grass,
And gi'en five sounds sae shill,[475]
That trees in green wood shook thereat,
Sae loud rang ilka hill.
IX.
His sons in manly sport and glee, 65
Had past that summer's morn,
When low down in a grassy dale,
They heard their father's horn.
That horn, quo' they, ne'er sounds in peace,
We've other sport to bide. 70
And soon they hy'd them up the hill,
And soon were at his side.