It was the Knight Sir Peter,
He dwelleth down by Oe;
Nothing, nothing, will he do
But sail about and row.
Sail about and row about
Is all that he will do,
So many a maiden he allures
And proves to them untrue.
To servants two addressed him,
Sir Peter of the isle:
“With wily speeches win me
The Damsel Usalile.”
The gallant swains then riding
To Usalile’s home,
A message sent inquiring
If they to her might come.
In then came the gallants,
Before the board they stood—
O, they were nimble at the tongue,
Could speak in wily mode!
“Thy brothers seven from Skaane
Thee lovingly do greet,
On board this ship to meet them
Their sister they entreat.”
“O if with me for parlance
My brothers are inclined,
Here at her table sitting
Their sister they will find.
“No lovely maid on shipboard
Is ever wont to go,
But sharp reproofs pursue her,
And taunting words, I trow.”
Away then ride the gallants
And to their lord repair:
“We cannot win the damsel
By means of speeches fair.”
“O I will have the damsel,
And she shall yet be won;
I vow me to deceive her
By force of magic Rune.”
Then o’er his broider’d trousers,
And jacket flower’d fair,
The skin of a hart he donneth
The maiden to ensnare.
Now sported the wild little hart
The damsel’s house before,
Glitter’d like the ruddy gold
Each hair the creature bore.
Open stood the castle gate,
The hart therein has stray’d;
And lo with little puppies
The merry maiden play’d.
Up and down he sported,
To the green wood he sped;
Behind the Damsel hasting
In a leash the puppies led.
He sported up, he sported down,
Towards the mead he hied;
The Damsel speeding after
With hand to lure him tried.
The Damsel speeding after
With hand to lure him strove:
“That yonder lovely hart were tame
O would to God above!
“O would to God in heaven,
That yonder hart were mine!
Nothing should he ever drink
Except the rosy wine.
“Nothing should he ever drink
Except the rosy wine,
And nowhere should he slumber
Save in these arms of mine.”
The knight he off has shaken
The deer shape from his frame;
In verity fair damsel,
The hart he now is tame!
Long stood she, the Damsel,
So deep reflected she:
“O for some cunning artifice
To rid me quick of thee!”
“Sir Peter, if what now I know
I had but known before,
The children I shall bear thee
They ne’er should have been poor.
“Within my father’s castle
A little girl I strayed,
When in the earth a treasure
Of ruddy gold they laid.
“Down by the strand ’tis buried,
Beneath a mighty stone.”
Thither to fetch the treasure
In haste Sir Peter’s gone.
He has broken up the flinty rock,
So deep a hole he’s made—
But none shall ever gold dig up
Where gold was never laid!
One shall never gold dig up
Where gold was never laid;
Never came together more
The knight and lovely maid.