The Mythology of Fairies. Thomas KeightleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
you sit, my maiden fair,
A rose all lilies above;
See you can never a mortal man
Who will not seek your love."
"Be silent, be silent, now Sir Thynnè,
With your proffers of love, I pray;
For I am betrothed unto a hill-king,
A king all the Dwarfs obey.
"My true love he sitteth the hill within,
And at gold tables plays merrily;
My father he setteth his champions in ring,
And in iron arrayeth them he.
"My mother she sitteth the hill within,
And gold in the chest doth lay;
And I stole out for a little while,
Upon my gold harp to play."
And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He patted her cheek rosie:
"Why wilt thou not give a kinder reply,
Thou dearest of maidens, to me?"
"I can give you no kinder reply:
I may not myself that allow;
I am betrothed to a hill-king,
And to him I must keep my vow."
And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
She at the hill-door looked out,
And there she saw how the knight Sir Thynnè,
Lay at the green linden's foot.
And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
She was vext and angry, God wot:
"What hast thou here in the grove to do?
Little business, I trow, thou hast got.
"'Twere better for thee in the hill to be,
And gold in the chest to lay,
Than here to sit in the rosy grove,161 And on thy gold harp to play.
"And 'twere better for thee in the hill to be,
And thy bride-dress finish sewíng,
Than sit under the lind, and with runic lay
A Christian man's heart to thee win."
And it was Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
She goeth in at the hill-door:
And after her goeth the knight Sir Thynnè,
Clothed in scarlet and fur.
And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
Forth a red-gold chair she drew:
Then she cast Sir Thynnè into a sleep
Until that the cock he crew.
And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
The five rune-books she took out;
So she loosed him fully out of the runes,
Her daughter had bound him about.
"And hear thou me, Sir Thynnè,
From the runes thou now art free;
This to thee I will soothly say,
My daughter shall never win thee.
"And I was born of Christian kind,
And to the hill stolen in;
My sister dwelleth in Iseland,162 And wears a gold crown so fine.
"And there she wears her crown of gold,
And beareth of queen the name;
Her daughter was stolen away from her,
Thereof there goeth great fame.
"Her daughter was stolen away from her,
And to Berner-land brought in;
And there now dwelleth the maiden free,
She is called Lady Hermolin.
"And never can she into the dance go,
But seven women follow her;
And never can she on the gold-harp play,
If the queen herself is not there.
"The king he hath a sister's son,
He hopeth the crown to possess,
For him they intend the maiden free,
For her little happiness.
"And this for my honour will I do,
And out of good-will moreover,
To thee will I give the maiden free,
And part her from that lover."
Then she gave unto him a dress so new,
With gold and pearls bedight;
Every seam on the dress it was
With precious stones all bright.
Then she gave unto him a horse so good,
And therewith a new sell;
"And never shalt thou the way inquire,
Thy horse will find it well."
And it was Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
She would show her good-will to the knight;
So she gave unto him a spear so new,
And therewith a good sword so bright.
"And never shalt thou fight a fight,
Where thou shalt not the victory gain;
And never shalt thou sail on a sea
Where thou shalt not the land attain."
And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
She wine in a glass for him poured:
"Ride away, ride away, now Sir Thynnè,
Before the return of my lord."
And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He rideth under the green hill side,
There then met him the hill-kings two.
As slow to the hill they ride.
"Well met! Good day, now Sir Thynnè!
Thy horse can well with thee pace;
Whither directed is thy course?
Since thou'rt bound to a distant place."
"Travel shall I and woo;
Plight me shall I a flower;
Try shall I my sword so good,
To my weal or my woe in the stour."
"Ride in peace, ride in peace, away, Sir Thynnè,
From us thou hast nought to fear;
They are coming, the champions from Iseland,
Who with thee long to break a spear."
And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He rideth under the green hill side;
There met him seven Bernisk champions,
They bid him to halt and abide.
"And whether shall we fight to-day,
For the red gold and the silvér;
Or shall we fight together to-day,
For both our true loves fair?"
And it was the king's sister's son,
He was of mood so hastý;