Chapter 2

To work the gold so red of blee Queen Malfred has her maidens ordered; But still stood Valborg, still stood she, Her heart with care was all disordered.

"Now Valborg hear, thou damsel dear, Why sitt'st thou lonely and dejected? A joy to thee it sure must be, Thou art a prince's bride elected."

"Much sooner I, O Queen, would wone With Axel as his mate, much sooner Than I would wear Norwegia's crown, Enjoying all the regal honour.

"'Twill profit me in scanty guise That all are flatteries on me heaping, If with the water of my eyes My pallid cheeks I'm daily steeping."

For many a day thus matters stood, For many a day till months were ended; Sir Axel and his damsel good Their sports and laughs have all suspended.

Then war, fierce war, drew near that clime, The foes they were in force alarming; For Hogen, son of the King, 'tis time To rise and 'gainst his foes be arming.

He summoned his good banner round All, all his men both clerks and laity; To the heart of Axel, knight renown'd, The call to arms brought sudden gaiety.

It was Hogen the King's son bold Unto the field of battle wended, And every one who brand could hold His sovereign to the field attended.

Each man in the land could bear a blade To fight the foe with him has wended; Sir Axel he his captain made, He knew that much on him depended.

Wide o'er the field shone Axel's shield, That shield which was of white and azure; Two hearts there stood, both red with blood, For fame he'll risk his life with pleasure.

Then soon they saw upon the plain In glittering ranks outspread their foemen; To fight with men was the question then, I ween, and not to dance with women.

Sir Axel on that dreadful day For country fought in manner fitting; Before him knights in steel array Are fast their gilded saddles quitting.

He slew so many of noble race, And trampled them his warhorse under; Not one, not e'en of highest place, Was spared by Axel's hand of thunder.

He slew the lords of Oppeland, Upon gigantic coursers mounted; King Aumund's sons, a stalwart band, He slew, who manfully him confronted.

Like hay, which in the loft up fling The boors, the yard-long shafts are flying; There wounded lies the son of the king, Upon the earth is Hogen dying.

And when from steed the King's son fell, O there was none that hasted faster Than the good knight redoubtable, Axel, to aid his luckless master.

"Hear, Axel Thordson," Hogen said, "Avenge my death in gallant fashion, And thou shalt Norway rule, and wed The maid we loved with rival passion."

"O I'll revenge, my Lord, thy death, Or I will do my best endeavour, For dread of this poor body's scathe, While life shall last I'll faulter never."

Now speed, his eyeballs gleaming wrath, Sir Axel 'mongst the hostile forces, And all the foes that crossed his path To earth are smitten bleeding corses.

Then fell the mighty on the plain Like corn which hand of peasant reapeth; Sir Axel, young and noble swain, In all his woes a stout heart keepeth.

So long and well he him did guard That piecemeal lay his armour scattered; And still fought hard that stalwart lord Until his beamy shield was shattered.

Still he defended himself full brave, Inspiring all with fear and wonder; Yes even 'till his trusty glaive At the gold hilt was snapped asunder.

With eighteen wounds, each dire to view, The noble breast of Axel smarted; To his tent bore him his friends so true, At his sad fortune broken-hearted.

Down ran his blood in reeking flood, He for the victory won has perished; The last, last word his lips proffer'd Devotes he to his maiden cherished.

"To Valborg bid a kind adieu, To Christ's high care I now bequeath her; We soon shall meet in yonder blue Were we in joy shall live together."

Enters the hall the little page, And takes his stand before the table; 'Tis true he was of tender age, But well to ply his words was able.

"Doff the red silk and don the white, Ye maids, I've news of sore disaster; Hogen the prince is slain in fight, And Axel, too, my gallant master.

"In fight Sir Hogen the King's son fell, Upon the bier now lies his body; My master him avenged full well, But got thereby his death wound bloody.

"'Tis true we've won a victory, But tempered is our exultation; We have lost a host of peasantry And all the best knights of our nation."

How fair Queen Malfred wept that tide Each mother's heart can form a notion; The fair Valborg in secret sigh'd, And wrung her hands in wild emotion.

She calls her servitor in haste, And him with tears is thus commanding: "Now fetch ye down the gilded chest From the high chamber where 'tis standing.

"And the grey horse to the chariot set, Me to the cloister it shall carry; Sir Axel's death I'll ne'er forget So long as on the earth I tarry."

Before Maria's high church door From out the chariot she alighted; So sadly on the Church's floor She stepped, her every joy was blighted.

She took the gold crown from her brow, And gently that gold crown she laid on A stone: "I'll have no husband now," She sighed, "but die a spotless maiden.

"I twice have been a plighted may, But wedded bride I could be never: From henceforth in this abbey grey From the bleak world myself I'll sever."

Forward her chest adorned with gold They brought, wherein her treasure's warded; The treasure 'mongst her friends she dol'd, Amongst those friends she most regarded.

First she took out a necklace fine, Hung round with ornaments of splendor; And that she gave to Eskeline, The Dame who showed her love so tender.

The big arm-band and bracelet broad Then taking from the gilded coffer, On bold Sir Hagen she bestow'd, To swear with her who made the offer.

A hundred golden rings so sheen, With silver and with gold no little, She gave the counts of handsome mien Who swore the oath was her acquittal.

To church she gave, to cloister gave, Her bounty priest and prelate booted; And for the soul of Axel brave She daily masses instituted.

She gave to orphans, and the clan Who rove with hunger's pangs tormented; Unto the image of Saint Ann A red gold crown she has presented.

"Now Bishop with the earth so black Do thou effect my consecration; And when a nun let me not lack Thy mild paternal consolation.

"Come Aage, dear Archbishop, come, Do thou the Lord's devoted make me; This blessed place shall be my home Till out a lifeless corse they take me."

There were so many warriors bold Whose hearts were all with sorrow laden, When they saw cast the dingy mould O'er Valborg's arm, the lovely maiden.

Now Valborg in that abbey grey Doth go, its utmost strictness bearing; From no mass will she keep away, In every matin song she's sharing.

Of maids and dames there's every year Full many a one to cloister given; But none so fair as Valborg dear, Whose equal lives not under heaven.

'Tis better ne'er to breathe the air Than pine for ever on in sadness; Each day to eat one's bread with care, And ne'er enjoy a moment's gladness.

To them repentance God impart, By whose vile means are those divided, Who have each other dear at heart, And whose love is by honor guided.

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LONDON: Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W. _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.