Oluf rode out before dawn, but it seemed to him bright as day.[353] He rode to a hill where dwarfs were dancing. A maid stepped out from the dance, put her arm round his neck, and asked him whither he would ride. "To talk with my true-love," said he. "But first," said she, "you must dance with us." She then went on to make him great offers if he would plight himself to her: a horse that would go to Rome and back in an hour, and a gold saddle for it; a new corselet, having which he never need fly from man; a sword such, as never was used in war. Such were all her benches as if gold were laid in links, and such were all her drawbridges as the gold on his hands. "Keep your gold," he answered; "I will go home to my true-love." She struck him on the cheek, so that the blood spattered his coat; she struck him midshoulders, so that he fell to the ground: "Stand up, Oluf, and ride home; you shall not live more than a day." He turned his horse, and rode home a shattered man. His mother was at the gate: "Why comest thou home so sad?" "Dear mother, take my horse; dear brother, fetch a priest," "Say not so, Oluf; many a sick man does not die. To whom do you give your betrothed?" "Rise, my seven brothers, and ride to meet my young bride."
As the bride's train came near the town, they heard the bells going. "Why is this?" she asked, her heart already heavy with pain; "I know of no one having been sick." They told her it was a custom there to receive a bride so. But when she entered the house, all the women were weeping. "Why are these ladies weeping?" No one durst answer a word. The bride went on into the hall, and took her place on the bride-bench. "I see," she said, "knights go and come, but I see not my lord Oluf." The mother answered, Oluf is gone to the wood with hawk and hound. "Does he care more for hawk and hound than for his young bride?"
At evening they lighted the torches as if to conduct the bride to the bride-bed; but Oluf's page, who followed his lady, revealed the truth on the way. "My lord," he said, "lies on his bier above, and you are to give your troth to his brother." "Never shalt thou see that day that I shall give my troth to two brothers." She begged the ladies that she might see the dead. They opened the door; she ran to the bier, threw back the cloth, kissed the body precipitately; her heart broke in pieces; grievous was it to see.
Danish B, printed by Syv in 1695, is the copy by which the ballad of the Elf-shot has become so extensively known since Herder's time, through his translation and others.[354]
The principal variations of the Scandinavian ballads, so far as they have not been given, now remain to be noted.
The hero's name is mostly Oluf, Ole, or a modification of this, Wolle, Rolig, Volder; sometimes with an appendage, as Färöe Ólavur Riddararós, Rósinkrans, Icelandic Ólafur Liljurós, Norwegian Olaf Liljukrans, etc. It is Peder in Danish H, I, O, P, Q, R, Æ.
Excepting the Färöe ballads, Oluf is not distinctly represented as having had previous acquaintance with the elves. In Swedish A 5 he says, I cannot dance with you, my betrothed has forbidden me; in Danish C, I should be very glad if I could; to-morrow is my wedding-day.
The object of his riding out is to hunt, or the like, in Danish D b, E, F, I, R, T, X, Y; to bid guests to his wedding, Danish B, C, D a, G, H, K-N, P, S, U, V, Ø, Norwegian A, B.
He falls in with dwarfs, Danish A, H, Norwegian A; trolds, Danish I; elves and dwarfs, Norwegian B, and a variation of A: elsewhere it is elves.
There is naturally some diversity in the gifts which the elf offers Oluf in order to induce him to dance with her. He more commonly replies that the offer is a handsome one, 'kan jeg vel få,' but dance with her he cannot; sometimes that his true-love has already given him that, or two, three, seven such, Danish D a, I, T, X, Y.