{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_28830/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_28830","id":"gutenberg_28830","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28830","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\n\n\n\n\n\n                           THE SONGS OF RANILD\n\n\n                                    BY\n                              GEORGE BORROW\n\n                                 LONDON:\n                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION\n\n                                   1913\n\n\n\n\nTHE SONGS OF RANILD.\n\n\nSONG THE FIRST.\n\n\nUp Riber's street the dance they ply,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nThere dance the knights most merrily,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nOn Riber's bridge the dance it goes,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nThere dance the knights in scollop'd shoes,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\n'Twas Riber Wolf the dance who led,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nIn faith to his King he had been bred,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAnd next him danced the Tage Mouse,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nWho Seneschal was in Ribe house,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAnd then danced bold Sir Saltensee,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nFollowed by wealthy kinsmen three,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nThe noble Limbekk dances next,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nWhose power the King had often vext,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAfter him danced the Byrge Green,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nThen many a knight of handsome mien,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAnd then came dancing Hanke Kann,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nHis Lady followed, good Dame Ann,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nThe next that came was the Ridder Rank,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nHis Lady behind him, Berngard Blank,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAnd then the high Volravn came,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nHis wife behind, who has no name,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAnd then came dancing Sir Iver Helt,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nWho followed his sovereign over the Belt,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nLong stood the Ranild Lang apart,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nEre he to join the dance had heart,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\n\"And were it not for my lovely hair,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nIn that brave dance I'd have a share,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\n\"But for my cheeks so rosy red,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nThe foremost in that dance I'd tread,\"\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nThen Ranild Lang to dance began,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nAnd a ditty sang as he led the van,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nSweet he warbled, light he sprang,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nAfter him every warrior sang,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nThen up the Spendel Sko arose,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nAnd on Ranild Lang her troth bestows,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nWith silk was snooded her hair of gold,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nShe danced before them free and bold,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nAnd into the Castle they dance their way,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nWith drawn swords 'neath their scarlet array.\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\nNever, I ween, was a braver dance,\n   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!\nIt wins the Castle of Rosenkrands,\n   _For young King Erik Erikson_.\n\n\n\n SONG THE SECOND.\n\n\nTo saddle his courser Ranild cried:\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\n\"To visit the rich Greve I will ride,\n   Though banish'd from the land we be.\"\n\nTo the house came Ranild spurring hard,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nThere stood the Greve arrayed in mard,\n   Though banish'd from the land we be.\n\n\"Hail, hail, Sir Greve, arrayed so fine!\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nI want my bride, the little Kirstine,\n   Though banish'd from the land I be.\"\n\nThen up and spoke her mother dear:\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\n\"Thou hast no bride, Sir Ranild, here,\n   For banish'd from the land ye be.\"\n\n\"O if I can't my little bride get,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nOn fire your house and your gear I'll set,\n   Though banish'd from the land I be.\"\n\n\"O rather than ruin us in thy wrath,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nReceive thy bride and ride thy path,\n   Though banish'd from the land ye be.\"\n\nThey o'er her threw the blue cloak with speed,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nAnd placed her upon Sir Ranild's steed,\n   Though banish'd from the land he be.\n\nThey had for their bridal bed alone,\n   _For thus the tale was told to ne_--\nThe holt, the field, and the mead new mown,\n   For banish'd from the land they be.\n\n\"The forest can hear, and the mead can view,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nWe here must live as outlaws do,\n   For banish'd from the land we be.\"\n\n\"Hadst thou not helped the King to slay,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\nIn peace at home we now might stay,\n   But banish'd from the land we be.\"\n\nHe struck her a blow the table o'er,\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\n\"Should'st guard thy tongue, child, guests before,\n   Though banish'd from the land we be.\"\n\nHe struck her on her face so fair:\n   _For thus the tale was told to me_--\n\"In Erik's death I had no share,\n   Though banished from the land I be.\"\n\n\n\nSONG THE THIRD.\n\n\nSo wide around the tidings bound\n   That Ranild's prisoner taken;\nHad he been aware how it would fare\n   He had not Hielm forsaken.\nThe death of woe, spaed long ago,\n   They'll wreak on him now, I reckon.\n\nInto the hall steps Ranild tall,\n   And withouten trepidation;\nBids his Lord good bye, and the chivalry\n   Who have at court their station.\nO, Lord Christ! be each man kept free\n   From misfortune and tribulation.\n\n\"In mind dost bear, King Erik dear,\n   On whom may blessings pour,\nThat service I wrought in your father's court,\n   Of all his swains the flower?\nBoth in and out I've borne you about\n   In sunshine and in shower.\"\n\n\"Yes, service you wrought in my father's court,\n   For money and clothes imparted,\nAnd betrayed his life to the foeman's knife,\n   Like a monster treacherous hearted.\nAnd as sure as now the crown's on my brow,\n   To the wheel thou shalt be carted.\"\n\n\"Hew off, I intreat, my hands and feet,\n   Most willingly them I proffer;\nMy eyes blood red tear out of my head,\n   And the worst death let me suffer;\nBut all the pains that Ranild gains\n   For his treason scarce enough are.\"\n\n\"Thine eyeballs twain thou may'st retain,\n   And thy hands and feet unriven;\nBut thou thy breath shalt yield to a death\n   The cruellest under heaven;\nAnd be it known, for my father alone\n   This punishment is given.\"\n\nRanild they brought from Roskild out,\n   He wrung his hands with sorrow;\nAnd the women all salt tears let fall,\n   Who lived in that ancient borough.\nThe wretched wight wished all good night,\n   And a light heart on the morrow.\n\nRanild they bore the town before,\n   The wheel his sight saluted:\n\"Christ guard each noble from such like trouble,\"\n   In agony he shouted,\n\"If at Hielm I'd staid it had better sped,\n   Nor to that had I been devoted.\n\n\"Would God would send a trusty friend,\n   Who would my message carry,\nTo Kirstine fair, who sits in care,\n   To Ranild true to tarry.\nO Christ help all my babies small,\n   And bless my bosom's dearie!\n\n\"Ye Christian folk, whom, with dying look,\n   On the mead I am discerning,\nA pater pray for my soul, to stay\n   Of God the anger burning;\nThat me He receive this very eve\n   To the joys for which I'm yearning.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHILD STIG AND CHILD FINDAL\n\n\nChild Stig and Child Findal two brothers were they,\nThere ne'er were two brothers more gallant and gay.\n\nChild Stig serves the Dane King in bower and hall,\nHigh dames brushed his hair, and fair maidens withal.\n\nChild Stig by the board of the Monarch he stood,\nTo him little Kirstin was cruel of mood.\n\n\"Full seven years I have been Lord of the Rune,\nOf its power I'll make trial this same afternoon.\"\n\nWith his right hand he skinked the wine and the mead\nAnd cast with his left the Rune characters dread.\n\nTo cast them on Kirstin the gallant Stig meant,\nBut under the dress of Rigissa they went.\n\nO pallid as ashes the gallant Stig grew,\nAnd red as the blood was Rigissa to view.\n\nThe gallant Child Stig placed his cap on his head,\nAnd unto his foster dame's chamber he sped.\n\n\"Dear Foster dame, give me some counsel, I pray,\nHow I may escape from this palace away.\n\n\"To cast the Rune letters at Kirstin I meant,\nBut under the dress of Rigissa they went.\n\n\"I will mount my good courser so true and so tried,\nAnd away to the ends of the earth I will ride.\"\n\nSaid she: \"Shouldst thou travel all Finland around,\nThis night at thy couch will Rigissa be found.\n\n\"And e'en shouldst thou ride to the earth's farthest land,\nThis night by thy couch she will certainly stand.\n\n\"But, Child Stig, I advise thee, call up a good heart,\nAnd home to thy bed and thy slumbers depart.\n\n\"She'll tap on the door of thy chamber, I ween,\nBut still do thou keep, let her in by no mean.\n\n\"But ten fingers has she, so tiny and small,\nAnd with them from the door she will pick the nails all.\n\n\"She will set herself down on the side of thy bed,\nAnd play with the long yellow locks of thy head.\n\n\"So fondly she'll stroke thy fair cheek in the dark,\nBut do thou remain as thou wert stiff and stark.\n\n\"She'll kiss thee full oft on thy lips rosy red,\nBut do thou lie still as were life from thee fled.\"\n\nChild Stig he gave ear to his foster dame's rede,\nAnd away to his bed he betook him with speed.\n\n'Twas late in the even, and down fell the dew,\nRigissa flung o'er her her mantle of blue.\n\nThe lovely maid she her blue mantle put on,\nAnd unto the chamber of Stig she is gone.\n\nOn the door of the chamber begins she to knock:\n\"Arise, O Child Stig, and thy chamber unlock.\"\n\n\"At the Ting to appear, I have summoned no wight,\nAnd none I'll admit to my chamber at night.\"\n\nShe's fingers, ten fingers, so tiny and small,\nAnd out of the door she has picked the nails all.\n\nFifteen iron nails, and a big stud of brass,\nThen into the chamber Rigissa could pass.\n\nShe sat herself down by the side of the bed,\nAnd played with the locks of the young gallant's head.\n\nShe kissed him full oft on his mouth rosy red,\nBut still he remained as were life from him fled.\n\nIn her arms the young Stig she so fondly did press,\nBut quiet he lay nor returned her caress.\n\nChild Stig he awoke, and cast up his eyes:\n\"Who wakes me from sleep in this manner?\" he cries.\n\n\"If I cannot, Rigissa, my rest for thee take,\nTo the Dane King, thy brother, complaint I will make.\"\n\n\"O thou may'st complain if thou feelest inclin'd,\nBut thou art the man on whom standeth my mind.\"\n\nThe very next morning ere high was the sun,\nChild Stig to complain to the Dane King is gone.\n\n\"Dear Lord, I have this to complain of to thee,\nFor thy sister at night I at rest cannot be.\"\n\nThe King in displeasure his footboy address'd:\n\"To come to my presence my sister request.\"\n\nRigissa came in, 'fore the table stood she:\n\"What mean'st thou, O brother, by sending for me?\"\n\n\"O here is a knight doth complaint of thee make,\nHe cannot at night his repose for thee take.\"\n\n\"It is but God's truth that his chamber I sought,\nBut nothing unseemly betwixt us was wrought.\n\n\"Steel, glowing steel, I will bear on my hand,\nAnd of crime with Child Stig I acquitted will stand.\"\n\nLong stood the Dane King, full of thought was his head:\n\"With no better man I my sister can wed.\"\n\nAll hearts in the Dane King's palace were gay,\nThe Dane King has given his sister away.\n\nThere was pleasure and smiling in every look,\nFor his beloved Lady Child Stig the maid took.\n\nChild Stig he brews ale, and the wine doth prepare,\nHe the Dane King invites to his castle so fair.\n\nThe King and his gallant men all biddeth he,\nAnd the Queen of the Danes of the party should be.\n\nOutspake the fair Queen, on her steed as she rode:\n\"Methinks I behold of Child Stig the abode.\"\n\nAnd thereto the page at her bridle replied:\n\"Of Stig the brave castle is known far and wide.\n\n\"Within with the richest of gold it is graced,\nWithout with white silver 'tis all over cased.\"\n\nAnd, lo, when the gate of the castle they gained,\nFive shaggy white bears stood before it enchained.\n\nAnd when in procession they entered the court,\nWithin it the hart and the roebuck did sport.\n\nIn the midst of the court was a silver trough long,\nOf birds and of animals round it a throng.\n\nAbove spread the poplar and linden their shade,\nIn its coolness the hart and the little hind played.\n\nAn apartment they entered, full lofty and fair,\nWas crowded with women so courtly of air.\n\nAll of red amber composed was the floor,\nThe roof with gilt letters was written all o'er.\n\nThe table it was of the red shining gold\nThe napkin of Agerwool rare to behold.\n\nThe walls were constructed of fair marble stone,\nThe beams of the roof of the whitest whale bone.\n\nOn the floor they are dancing with rapture so high,\nTall, slender, and stately Sir Stig dances by.\n\nStraight and slim as a sapling Child Stig dances up,\nIn each hand holding a fair silver cup.\n\nChild Stig to the health of his bonny bride quaffed,\nAnd forest and meadow delightedly laughed.\n\nThe forest it bloomed, the boughs leaves put forth--\nShe excels every damsel in beauty and worth.\n\nLate in the evening the mist it descends,\nChild Stig his young bride to her chamber attends.\n\nNow gallant Child Stig has o'ercome his distress,\nHe sleeps in the arm of a lovely princess.\n\nAnd Damsel Rigissa is free from her fright,\nBy the side of Child Stig she reposes each night.\n\n                                 LONDON:\n               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.\n\n                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.\n\n               _Copyright in the United States of America_\n           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.","title":"The Songs of Ranild","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2452}