{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_28818/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_28818","id":"gutenberg_28818","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28818","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Poetry"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library,\nUK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was\nmade.\n\n\n\n\n\n                            THE GIANT OF BERN\n                           AND ORM UNGERSWAYNE\n                                 A BALLAD\n\n\n                                    BY\n                              GEORGE BORROW\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION\n                                   1913\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIANT OF BERN\nAND ORM UNGERSWAYNE\n\n\nIt was the lofty Jutt of Bern\n   O'er all the walls he grew;\nHe was mad and ne'er at rest,\n   To tame him no one knew.\n\nHe was mad and ne'er at rest,\n   No lord could hold him in;\nIf he had long in Denmark stayed\n   Much damage there had been.\n\nIt was the lofty Jutt of Bern\n   Bound to his side his glaive,\nAnd away to the monarch's house he rode\n   With the knights a fray to have.\n\nNow goes the lofty Jutt of Bern\n   Before the King to stand:\n\"Thou shalt to me thy daughter give,\n   And a brief for half thy land.\n\n\"Here as thou sitt'st at thy wide board,\n   Hail Monarch of the Danes!\nThou shalt to me thy daughter give,\n   And the half of thy domains.\n\n\"Thou shalt to me thy daughter give,\n   And divide with me thy land,\nOr thou shalt find a kempion good\n   In the ring 'gainst me to stand.\"\n\n\"O thou shalt ne'er my daughter get,\n   Nor a brief for half my land,\nI'll quickly find a kempion good\n   Shall fight thee hand to hand.\"\n\nThen strode the Monarch of the Danes\n   To his castle hall amain:\n\"Now which of ye, my courtiers, will\n   The lovely Damsel gain?\n\n\"Here sit ye all my Danish swains\n   On whom I bread bestow,\nNow which of ye will risk his life\n   To lay the Berner low?\n\n\"I'll give to him my daughter dear,\n   The wondrous lovely may,\nWho in the ring with Jutt of Bern\n   Shall dare the desperate fray.\"\n\nIn silence all the kempions sat,\n   None dared reply a word,\nExcept alone Orm Ungerswayne,\n   The lowest at the board.\n\nExcept alone Orm Ungerswayne,\n   He bounded o'er the board:\nI tell to ye in verity\n   He spake a manly word.\n\n\"Wilt thou to me thy daughter give,\n   And divide with me thy land?\nO then will I the kempion be,\n   Against the Jutt to stand.\n\n\"And well will I your daughter win,\n   And the prize alone will earn;\nI am the lad to dare the fray\n   In the ring with the Jutt of Bern.\"\n\nIt was the lofty Jutt of Bern\n   He o'er his shoulder glar'd:\n\"O who may yonder mouseling be,\n   From whom those words I heard?\"\n\n\"No mouseling I, though call me, Jutt,\n   A mouseling if you will,\nMy father was good Sigurd King\n   Who slumbers in his hill.\"\n\n\"Ha! was thy sire good Sigurd King?\n   Thou'st something of his face,\nThou hast sprung up full wondrously\n   In fifteen winter's space.\"\n\nIt was so late at evening tide\n   The sun had reached the wave,\nWhen Orm the youthful swain set out\n   To seek his father's grave.\n\nIt was the hour when grooms do ride\n   The coursers to the rill,\nThat Orm set out resolved to wake\n   The dead man in the hill.\n\nNow strikes the bold Orm Ungerswayne\n   The hill with such a might,\nIt was I ween a miracle\n   It tumbled not outright.\n\nThen stamped upon the hill so hard\n   Young Orm with heavy foot,\nThe arch was broke within the hill\n   Which trembled to its root.\n\nThen from the hill Orm's father cried,\n   Where he so long had lain:\n\"O cannot I in quiet lie\n   Within my murky den?\n\n\"Who dares so early break my rest,\n   And troubleth thus my bones?\nCannot I in quiet lie\n   Beneath my roof of stones?\n\n\"Who seeks at night the dead man's hill\n   And works this ruin all?\nLet him fear for now I swear\n   By Birting he shall fall.\"\n\n\"I am thy son, thy youngest son,\n   Thy Orm, O father dear;\nTo beg a boon in mighty need\n   I come to seek thee here.\"\n\n\"If thou art Orm my youngest son,\n   The kempion bold and brave,\nLast year I gave to thee of gold,\n   All, all thy heart could crave.\"\n\n\"Last year you gave me store of gold\n   On which I set no worth,\nNow I this year must Birting have,\n   The bravest sword on earth.\"\n\n\"Never shalt thou Birting get\n   To win the Monarch's daughter,\nUntil to Ireland thou hast been\n   To 'venge thy father's slaughter.\"\n\n\"Give to me the Birting sword,\n   And with it bid me thrive,\nOr I the hill above thee will\n   To thousand pieces rive.\"\n\n\"Stretch thou down thy hand and take\n   My Birting from my side,\nBut if thou break thy father's hill\n   Much woe will thee betide.\"\n\nHe cast to him the sword, its point\n   Appeared above the mould:\n\"Save good fate on thee shall wait\n   I ne'er shall be consol'd.\"\n\nHe reached to him the sword, and placed\n   Its hilt within his grasp:\n\"Beneath its blows may all thy foes\n   Before thee sink and grasp.\"\n\nThen took the sword Orm Ungerswayne,\n   And on his shoulder plac'd;\nAnd to the Monarch's hall he sped,\n   As fast as he could haste.\n\nIt was the lofty Jutt of Bern\n   With wrath was nearly wild:\n\"It ill becomes a man like me\n   To battle with a child.\"\n\n\"Although I be but little, Jutt,\n   A fearless heart I keep,\nAnd oftentimes a little hand\n   O'erturns a mighty heap.\"\n\nFor two long days they fought, and when\n   The third to evening tended,\n\"Methinks,\" exclaim'd the Berner Jutt,\n   \"This fight will ne'er be ended.\"\n\nIt was bold Orm Ungerswayne\n   His good sword brandish'd he,\nAnd of the lofty Berner Jutt\n   Asunder cut the knee.\n\nLoud bellowed then the Berner Jutt,\n   And loud he fell to ban:\n\"It ne'er was warrior custom yet\n   So low to strike one's man.\"\n\n\"I was small, and thou wast tall,\n   Thy prowess I admire;\nI only struck thy knee because\n   I could not reach thee higher.\"\n\nThen took the bold Orm Ungerswayne\n   His faulchion on his back,\nAnd to the ocean strand he goes\n   As fast as he could make.\n\nIt was bold Orm Ungerswayne\n   He paced the yellow sand,\nAnd lo! Sir Tord of Valland came\n   Swift sailing to the land.\n\nForemost upon the gilded prow\n   The Tord of Valland stands:\n\"O who is yonder little man\n   That walks upon the sands?\"\n\n\"O I am Orm, the youthful swain,\n   A kempion bold and fine;\n'Twas I that slew the Berner Jutt,\n   That uncle dear of thine.\"\n\n\"If thou hast slain the Berner Jutt,\n   That uncle dear of mine,\n'Twas I the King of Ireland slew,\n   Beloved father thine.\"\n\nIt was Tord of Valland then\n   With faulchion struck the earth:\n\"Never will I make amends\n   By gold or money's worth.\"\n\nIt was bold Orm Ungerswayne,\n   He grasped his faulchion's hilt:\n\"In vengeance for my father then\n   Shall valiant blood be spilt.\"\n\nIt was the bold Orm Ungerswayne\n   He drew his trusty sword,\nAnd at a single blow smote off\n   The head of Valland's Tord.\n\nValland's Tord he slew, and then\n   His followers every one;\nThen speeds he to the monarch's house\n   To claim the maid he'd won.\n\nThen took the bold Orm Ungerswayne\n   The Atheling in his arm:\n\"Thou art my own, fair maid, for thee\n   I have confronted harm.\"\n\nO'er Helmer Isle the tidings run\n   As fast as levin fire,\nThat Orm the lovely maid has won,\n   And has avenged his sire.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                 LONDON:\n               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.\n                   _Edition limited to thirty Copies_.","title":"The Giant of Bern and Orm Ungerswayne: A Ballad","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":1262}