'Ask me not that, Fridburg,' he said;
'Ask me not that, thou good young maid;
Thy scarlet mantle and kirtle black
Will well become my young sister's back.'
Then she begs to be allowed three cries.
'So much I may allow thee well,
Thou art so deep within the dell;
So deep within the dell we lie,
No man can ever hear thy cry.'
She cries, "Help, Jesu!" "Help, Mary!" "Help, dear brother!"
'For if thou come not straight,
For my life 't will be too late!'
Her brother seems to hear his sister's voice "in every sense."
He let his falcon fly,
Rode off with hounds in full cry;
With all the haste he could
He sped to the dusky wood.
'What dost thou here, my Ulinger?
What dost thou here, my master dear?'
'Twisting a withe, and that is all,
To make a halter for my foal.'
'Twisting a withe, and that is all,
To make a halter for thy foal!
I swear by my troth thus shall it be,
Thyself shalt be the foal for me.'
'Then this I beg, my Fridburger,
Then this I beg, my master dear,
That thou wilt let me hang
In my clothes as now I stand.'