Romantic Ballads Part 9

THE TOURNAMENT.

FROM THE OLD DANISH.

This is one of those Ballads which, from the days of Arild, have been much sung in Denmark: we find in it the names and bearings of most of those renowned heroes, who are mentioned separately in other poems. It divides itself into two parts;--the first, which treats of the warrior's bearings, has a great resemblance to the 178th chapter of the Vilkina Saga, as likewise has the last part, wherein the Duel is described, to the 180th and 181st chapters of the same.

I cannot here forbear quoting and translating what Anders Sorensen Vedel, the good old Editor of the first Edition of the Kiaempe Viser, which appeared in 1591, says concerning the apparently superhuman performances of the heroes therein celebrated.

"Hvad ellers Kiaempernes Storlemhed Styrke og anden Vilkaar berorer, som overgaaer de Menneskers der nu leve deres Vaext og Kraft, det Stykke kan ikke her noksom nu forhandles, men skal i den Danske Kronikes tredie Bog videligere omtales. Thi det jo i Sandhed befindes og bevises af adskillige Doc.u.menter og Kundskab, at disse gamle h.e.l.lede, som de kaldes, have levet fast laenger, og vaeret mandeligere storre staerkere og hoiere end den gemene Mand er, som nu lever paa denne Dag."

"That part which relates to these Warriors' size, strength, or other qualities, so far surpa.s.sing the stature and powers of the men who now exist, cannot be here sufficiently treated upon, but shall be further discussed in the third Book of the Danish Chronicles: for, in truth, it is discovered and proved from various doc.u.ments and sources, that these old heroes, as they are called, lived much longer, and were manlier, stouter, stronger, and taller, than man at the present day."

Six score there were, six score and ten, From Hald that rode that day; And when they came to Brattingsborg They pitch'd their pavilion gay.

King Nilaus stood on the turret's top, Had all around in sight: "Why hold those heroes their lives so cheap, That it lists them here to fight?

"Now, hear me, Sivard Snaresvend; Far hast thou rov'd, and wide, Those warriors' weapons thou shalt prove, To their tent thou must straightway ride."

It was Sivard Snaresvend, To the broad tent speeded he then: "I greet ye fair, in my master's name, All, all, ye Dane king's men.

"Now, be not wroth that here I come; I come as a warrior, free: The battle together we soon will prove; Let me your bearings see."

There stands upon the first good s.h.i.+eld A lion, so fierce and stark, With a crown on his head, of the ruddy gold, That is King Diderik's mark.

There s.h.i.+ne upon the second s.h.i.+eld A hammer and pincers bright; Them carries Vidrik Verlandson, Ne'er gives he quarter in fight.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the third good s.h.i.+eld A falcon, blazing with gold; And that by h.e.l.led Hogan is borne; No knight, than he, more bold.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the fourth good s.h.i.+eld An eagle, and that is red; Is borne by none but Olger, the Dane; He strikes his foemen dead.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the fifth good s.h.i.+eld A couchant hawk, on a wall; That's borne by Master Hildebrand; He tries, with heroes, a fall.

And now comes forth the sixth good s.h.i.+eld A linden is thereupon; And that by young Sir Humble is borne, King Abelon's eldest son.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the seventh good s.h.i.+eld A spur, of a fas.h.i.+on so free; And that is borne by Hogan, the less, Because he will foremost be.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the eighth good s.h.i.+eld A gray wolf, meagre and gaunt; Is borne by youthful Ulf van Jern; Beware how him you taunt!

There s.h.i.+ne upon the ninth good s.h.i.+eld Three arrows, and white are they; Are borne by Vidrik Stageson, And trust that gallant you may.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the tenth good s.h.i.+eld A fiddle, and 'neath it a bow; That's borne by Folker Spillemand; For drink he will sleep forego.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the eleventh s.h.i.+eld A dragon that looks so dire; Is carried by Orm, the youthful swain; He trembles at no man's ire.

And, now, behold the twelfth good s.h.i.+eld, And upon it a burning brand; Is borne by stout Sir Vifferlin Through many a prince's land.

There stands upon the thirteenth s.h.i.+eld A sprig of the mournful yew; That's borne by Harrald Griskeson; And he's a comrade true.

There stand upon the fourteenth s.h.i.+eld A cloak, and a mighty staff; And them bore Alsing, the stalwart monk, When he beat his foes to chaff.

And now comes forth the fifteenth s.h.i.+eld, And upon it three naked blades Are borne by good King Esmer's sons, In their wars and furious raids.

There stands upon the sixteenth s.h.i.+eld, With coal-black pinion, a crow; That's borne by rich Count Raadengaard; The dark Runes well can he throw. {f:19}

There s.h.i.+nes upon the seventeenth s.h.i.+eld A horse, so stately and high, Is borne by Count Sir Guncelin; "Slay! slay! bide not," is his cry.

There s.h.i.+ne upon the eighteenth s.h.i.+eld A man, and a fierce wild boar, Are borne by the Count of Lidebierg; His blows fall heavy and sore.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the nineteenth s.h.i.+eld A hound, at the stretch of his speed; Is borne by Oisten Kiaempe, bold; He risks his neck without heed.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the twentieth s.h.i.+eld, Among branches, a rose, so gay; Wherever Sir Nordman comes in war, He bears bright honour away.

There s.h.i.+nes on the one-and-twentieth s.h.i.+eld A vase, and of copper 't is made; That's borne by Mogan Sir Olgerson; He wins broad lands with his blade.

And now comes forth the next good s.h.i.+eld, With a sun dispelling the mirk; And that by Asbiorn Milde is borne; He sets the knights' backs at work. {f:20}

There s.h.i.+nes on the three-and-twentieth s.h.i.+eld An arm, in a manacle bound; And that by Alvor Sir Lange is borne, To the heroes he hands mead round.

Now comes the four-and-twentieth s.h.i.+eld, And a bright sword there you see; And that by Humble Sir Jerfing is borne; Full worthy of that is he.

There s.h.i.+nes upon the next good s.h.i.+eld A goss-hawk, striking his game; That's borne by a knight, the best of all-- Sir Iver Blaa is his name.

Now comes the six-and-twentieth s.h.i.+eld, A jav'lin there you spy; Is borne by little Mimring Tan; From no one will he fly.

Such knights and bearings as were there, And who can them all relate; It was Sivard, the Snaresvend; No longer he deign'd to wait.

"If there be one of the Dane king's men, Who at Dyst {f:21} is willing to ride, Let him, I pray, without pause or delay, Meet me by the wild wood's side.

"The man among you, ye Danish court men, Who at Dyst has won most meeds; Him I am ready to fight, this day, For both of our n.o.ble steeds."

The heroes cast the die on the board; The die it roll'd so wide: "Since, young Sir Humble, it stops by thee, 'Gainst Sivard thou must ride."

Sir Humble struck his hand on the board; No longer he lists to play: I tell you, forsooth, that the rosy hue From his cheek fast faded away.

"Now, hear me, Vidrik Verlandson; Thou art so free a man; Do lend me Skimming, thy horse, this day; I'll pledge for him what I can:

"Eight good castles, in Birting's land, As pledges for him I'll set; My sister too, the lily-cheek'd maid, A fairer thou ne'er hast met:

"Eight good castles, and eight good knights; I'd scorn to offer thee less: If Skimming should meet any hurt this day, My sister thou shalt caress."

"If yonder mountains all were gold, And yonder streams were wine; The whole for Skimming I would not take; I bless G.o.d he is mine.

"Sivard is a purblind swain; Sees not to his faulchion's end: If Skimming were hurt thou couldst not pay me With the help of thy every friend.

"The sword it whirls in Sivard's hand, As whirl the sails of the mill; If thou take Skimming 'gainst that wild fool, 'T is sorely against my will."

Humble, he sat him on Skimming's back, So gallantly can he ride; But Skimming thought it pa.s.sing strange That a spur was clapt to his side.