Alf the Freebooter, Little Danneved and Swayne Trost, and Other Ballads

Sir Alf will not stay in Norroway land, For he passes his time there wearily; Full fifteen lordships in fief he holds, He can live thereout right merrily.

Sir Alf he walks on the verdant wold, Conning his breviary; There meets him Bendit Rimaardson, For God of his sins was weary.

“Good morrow, good day, thou little Sir Alf, Thou art a valiant noble, But if thou become the King’s prisoner to-day, The land will know less trouble.”

“I am not the little Sir Alf, I vow by the holy Mary; I am but a little mass-boy, Sir, To the priest the wine I carry!”

Bendit lifted his high, high hat, And upon his visage staring, Said: “Thou art the little Norwegian Alf, If mine eyes are the truth declaring.

“Thou wast a school boy along with me, Thou darest not deny it; And well at the school I remember thee, Thou gavest us no quiet.”

“If thou be Bendit Rimaardson, Thou art my near relation; If to-day thou wilt swear thou knowest me not, Thou wilt do me an obligation.”

But straight they took the little Sir Alf, And gyves to his legs they fastened; And away, away to Helsingborg, With the captive Alf they hastened.

“Now take little Alf to the chamber high, To the hall of the regal tower, That the Queen at her ease, and her maids, if they please. May behold this thief of power.”

Then up and spake the Danish Queen, On first little Alf espying: “The man that I see cannot surely be he, Whose fame through the world is flying.”

“Though I of stature be little and mean, I’ve every manly talent, And ne’er wilt thou bear thy lord an heir, Half, half so good and gallant.

“I’d give my mantle with roses red, And lilies flowered over, If I might sleep one night with thee, And play the ardent lover.

“If I one night with thee might sleep, None knowing but thy maid servant, For then, I ween, thou would’st beg, fair Queen, For my pardon in accents fervent.”

Then answered him the Danish Queen, As she struck the board with vigour: “To-morrow, ere folk to breakfast go, On a gibbet thou shalt figure!”

“Why hang’st thou not Ivor of Holsterbro, And Canute of Sonderboro? They were thieves like me, but they slept with thee, And their death would have caused thee sorrow.”

Then they took away the little Sir Alf From the hall of the regal tower; For the beauteous Queen and her ladies had seen Enough of this thief of power.

They led the little Count Sir Alf Out East from Helsing city; With contrite breast he his sins confess’d, And to God he cried for pity.

“Now I counsel each noble woman’s son, He in honour’s courses guide him, With his equals dwell in the land, for well With all will that land provide him.

“For many a day and many a year I’ve plundered, as every one knoweth; But what we win with injustice and sin With shame and sorrow goeth.

“A Count was I, of Erling’s race, O’er Timsberg’s rich fief I lorded; That filled me with pride, and my will I would have, Though my will with no law accorded.

“First, first on all who my hate had won I murders foul committed; Then to wife and maid no respect I paid, But shamefully them I treated.

“From the needy citizen his goods And his life besides I’ve riven; Widow and orphans my deeds bemoan, And for vengeance cry to heaven.

“Lord God to me kind and clement be, And grant me this petition: Let me gain, when this death of shame I’ve thol’d, Into endless life admission.”

LITTLE DANNEVED AND SWAYNE TROST.

“O what shall I in Denmark do? To bear your armour I’m too weak; The Danish warriors jeer at me, Because their tongue I cannot speak.”

It was the young Danneved, He bade them saddle his courser grey: “O I will ride to Borrebye, And a visit to my mother pay.”

O clinking were his spurs so keen, And swiftly sped his horse along; At Lundy Kirk in Skaaney land He stopped to hear the matin song.

O first he heard the matin song, To hear nine masses stopped he then; And now it lists young Danneved To mount upon his steed again.

Out spake Oluf, the aged and good, He was I ween the parish priest: “I beg of thee, little Danneved, To be this day my honoured guest.”

“This day I’ll break with no man bread, Nor drink a drop of rosy wine, Until I come to Borrebye, And hold discourse with mother mine.”

“Now hear me, dearest Danneved, Give o’er, I beg, thy purpose straight; So many of thy enemies Before the town in ambush wait.”

“O first I trust in my faulchion good, And then I trust in my courser tall, And next to them in my merry swains, But in my own self most of all.”

“’Tis well to trust in thy faulchion good, ’Tis well to trust in thy courser tall, But do not trust in thy merry swains, For they’ll deceive thee first of all.”

It was little Danneved, Abroad before the town he came; And there met him his enemies, Thrice nine in number were the same.

So numerous were these enemies, For him that did in ambush lie, All Danneved’s swains they took their leave, And from their lord did basely fly.

All his merry men took their leave, And from their master basely flew, Except the young Swayne Trost alone, He with his lord took on anew.

“O I, my Lord, your clothes have worn, And ridden have I, my Lord, your steed, And I will stand by you to-day, Nor leave you in your greatest need.

“O I have taken your silver and gold, And I have eaten of your bread, And I’ll not budge from you to-day, Although my life-blood I should shed.”

So they their backs together placed, Master and man, in the forest green; And in the early morning tide They of the foemen slew fifteen.

Then they their backs together placed, Where thick and high the bushes were; They twain alone full thirty slew, Acquiring honour ever fair.