THE COUNT OF VENDEL’ S

Within a bower the womb I left,

’ Midst dames and maids who stood to aid;

They wrapped me first in silken weft,

And next in scarlet red array’ d.

But a stepdame soon’ twas my lot to get,

And fierce and wild she proved to me;

Within a coffer me she set,

And pushed it out upon the sea.

By one wave I was borne to land,

And by the next away was ta’ en;

But God on High, it seems, had plann’ d,

That I should footing there obtain.

The tide it drove me to the shore,

And in its backward course retook;

Sure ne’ er had child of king before

Such buffeting on sea to brook.

But God He help’ d me, so that I

Was cast above the billows’ reach;

And soon a savage wolf drew nigh,

Was prowling on the sandy beach.

Soon prowling came a wolf so gray,

And me up-taking in his jaws,

He carried me with care away

Deep, deep into the forest shaws.

That self-same wolf he was so kind

That me beneath a tree he laid;

And then came running a nimble hind,

And me unto its lair convey’ d.

There me for winter one she nurs’ d —

She nursed me for two winters’ space.

To creep, to creep, I learnt at first,

And next I learnt to pace, to pace.

And I was full eight years, I wot,

Within the quiet, green retreat.

Close couched beside the hind I got

Full many a slumber calm and sweet.

I had clothes and shelter of no kind,

Except the linden green alone;

And, save the gentle forest hind,

Had nurse and foster-mother none.

But forth on courser reeking hot

There rushed a knight of bearing bold,

And he my foster-mother shot

With arrow on the verdant wold.

He pierced the hind with mortal wound,

And all our fond connection cut;

Then wrapped his cloak my frame around,

And me within his buckler put.

That self-same knight, so bold and strong,

Within his bower the foundling bred;

He tended me both well and long,

And finally his bride he made.

He had by long inquiry found

My father was a noble count

In Vendel’ s land, who castles own’ d,

And rul’ d o’ er many a plain and mount.

The first night we together slept

Was fraught with woe of darkest hue;

Foes, whom he long at bay had kept,

Broke in on us, and him they slew.

The night we lay together first

A deed of horror was fulfill’ d;

The bride-house door his foemen burst,

And in my arms my husband kill’ d.

Soon, soon, my friends to counsel go,

A husband new they chose for me;

The cloister’ s prior of mitred brow —

The good Sir Nilaus styl’ d was he.

But soon as I the threshold cross’ d,

The nuns could not their fury smother;

They vow’ d by God and all His Host,

The Prior Nilaus was my brother.

Forth from the cloister him they drew,

They pelted him to death with stones;

I stood close by, and all could view,

I scarce could hear his piteous moans.

Once more my friends to counsel hied,

For me another spouse they get —

Son of the King of England wide

Was he, and hight Sir Engelbret.

Nine winters with that princely youth

I lived; of joy we had no dearth,

I tell to ye, for sooth and truth,

To ten fair sons that I gave birth.

But pirate crews the land beset,

No one, no one, my grief could tell;

They slew with sword Sir Engelbret,

And nine of my fair sons as well.

My husband and my sons with brand

They slew. How I bewail their case!

My tenth son here they from the land —

I never more shall see his face.

Now is my care as complicate

As golden threads which maidens spin;

God crown with bliss Sir Engelbret,

He ever was so free from sin.

But now I’ ll take the holy vows,

Within the cloister under Ey;

I’ ll ne’ er become another’ s spouse,

But in religion I will die.

But first to all the country side

I will declare my bosom’ s grief;

I find, the more my grief I hide,

The less, the less, is my relief.