Down o’er the isle in torrents fell On a Thursday morn the rain; To fetch his bride now forth shall ride Sir Tygge Hermandsen.
Sir Tygge out of the window look’d, The brooks ran boisterously; “To ride out now would bring me woe, So dear no bride I’ll buy.
“But hear thou, Nilaus Benditson, Long shanks has thy good steed; I beg for the love of the God above You’ll fetch my bride with speed.”
Then answer’d Nilaus Benditson, In his sleeve thus answer’d he: “If me thou dispatch thy bride to fetch I’ll trick thee certainly.”
It was Nilaus Benditson, He rode the bride to meet; There hung silk sheen and sendal green Before his courser’s feet.
They clad themselves in silken cloth, And in cloth of gold beside; In long array to the Kirk their way They took with the youthful bride.
The bride before the holy Kirk door Like a blooming rose did stand; Oft did she turn to the water, to learn If the bridegroom was at hand.
Then answer’d Nilaus Benditson, He stood by the bride so close: “The brooks so roar’d that to cross the ford He fear’d would wet his hose.”
They plac’d the bride on the bridal bench With pomp and honor high; Oft would they turn to the water to learn If the bridegroom bold drew nigh.
In the silver cup they skink the ale, And the nut-brown mead they pour; Thus things they sped till day was fled, And until of bed the hour.
They lifted up the youthful bride, In the bride-bed her they set; And there sat she for hours three, There came no bridegroom yet.
The priests before the bride-bed stood, And sang with all their might: “Who in the bed in the bridegroom’s stead Shall sleep with the bride tonight?”
Then forth stepp’d Nilaus Benditson, His lac’d shoe off flung he: “With the bride so bright I’ll sleep tonight, And give her my troth with glee.”
So they the bridal solemnized, And glad themselves they made; At home was then Tygge Hermandsen, To cross the brooks afraid.
It chanc’d upon a Wednesday, The waters began to fall; Across came then Tygge Hermandsen With his gay bridesmen all.
And he came to the bridal house Where the feast was spread in state, Then up and cried the youthful bride: “Ride back, you come too late.”
“Now hear, thou beauteous Sidselil, I’ve this to complain of thee, That thou hast ta’en another swain And broke thy troth with me.”
“Now hear, thou Tygge Hermandsen, Thou might’st have been aware, I would disdain to wed the swain To wet his feet had fear.
“If thou hadst been a Lady’s swain, And hadst thou lov’d me true, With thy sword’s stroke thou wouldst have broke Thy way through the billows blue.”
“To the cloyster I’ll myself betake, And the monkish vow I’ll swear; For good or ill, proud Sidselil, I’ll never more come here.”
“But if hereby thy way shall lie When the brooks shall calmly run, If cheeses two in my store I view In thy sack I’ll drop thee one.”[13]