Up then amain the nine warriors rise,
They bound Sir Carl ’fore their sovereign’s eyes.
And out from the town Sir Carl they convey’d,
And upon a new wheel his body laid.
To Sir Plog then quickly a messenger came:
“The Dane-king has broken thy brother’s frame.”
Sir Plog he sprang o’er the wide, wide board,
But returned in answer no single word.
In his buckskin boots his shanks he cased
And around his gilded spurs he braced.
His gilded spurs there around he tied,
And away to the Ting the noble hied.
And fast and furious was his course,
So leapt and bounded his gallant horse.
Up, up to the Ting Sir Plog he goes,
And up to receive him the Dane-king rose.
“If I had been earlier here to-day,
Then things had turned out in a better way.
“My brother is wheeled though he did no wrong,
That deed, Dane-king, thou shalt rue ere long.