Chapter 2

Marsk Stig he woke at black midnight, And loudly cried to his Lady dear: “O dreamed have I so wondrously, God read what I’ve been dreaming here!

“I dream’d my ship, my tall, tall ship, To a boat did dwindle suddenly; Its mast was gone, it helm had none, Full soon it sank in the briny sea.

“I dream’d that each of my little pups Was become at once a savage boar; Through my garden wall they broke, and all My pleasant herbs and roots uptore.

“And I dream’d as I and my courtiers good Were riding over the bridge so wide, My trusty horse with sudden force Flung me, and into the forest hied.”

Then answer’d proud Dame Ingeborg, Straight answer’d she her dear lord thus: “To God alone in heaven is known, My Lord, how it will fare with us.

“Lie thou and rest, my noble Lord, And from thy thought the vision fling; It means no doubt our vassals stout Their rent and tribute soon will bring.”

“Not so, not so, it means, I trow, Although thou tell’st me that, my love, It means the King at our country’s Ting, Too much for me and my cause will prove.”

Marsk Stig he arms seven hundred men, Each one in iron panoply; And away he scowers to Viborg’s towers The traitor monarch to defy.

And at their head young Marsk Stig sped, And in his heart he felt so bold; Behind him rode his courtiers proud, Their breast-plates beaming bright with gold.

It was the young Sir Marshal Stig Stepp’d proudly in at the lofty door; And bold knights then, and bold knights’ men, Stood up the Marshal Stig before.

So up to the Ting of the land he goes, And straight to make his plaint began; Then murmured loud the assembled crowd, And clench’d his fist each honest man.

“Ye good men hear a tale of fear, A tale of horror, a tale of hell; A rape upon my wife’s been done, With frantic grief the tale I tell.”

Then up did spring the Danish King, And proffer’d to Stig his fair white hand: “I joy thou art come, Sir Marsk Stig, home Safe from the fray in the foreign land.”

Then answer’d him the Marshal Stig, His heart was fill’d with grief and rage: “And trouble and cost I more than lost When forth I went the fight to wage.

“To the field of war I went afar, And for thy realm I risk’d my life; But thou didst stay and, welladay, Didst foully force my virtuous wife.”

Then answer’d him the youthful King, As sly he laughed his cap below: “The Lady’s yes and willingness Were ready as mine own I trow.”

Then answer made the young Marsk Stig, With a darkling brow and kindling eye: “’Tis a saying true and an old one too That insult follows injury.

“Thou’st forc’d my housewife, and hast brought Distress and shame upon our head; But know one thing, my gracious King, Thy life to Stig is forfeited.”

Then as he turn’d him from the Ting He doff’d his hat with knightly pride; “Ye good men here in memory bear I have the traitor King defied.”

“Now do thou hear, Sir Marsk Stig dear, Cease, cease such frantic talk to hold; And I’ll bestow on thee enow Of castles, land, and ruddy gold.

“Eight castles fair, the best that are In all the land where dwells the Dane, May well atone for what is done, Receive them and my friend remain.”

“I do not care for your castles fair, Castles enow I have already, I wish undone the deed upon The body of my virtuous Lady.”

“Marsk Stig! Marsk Stig! ride not so high, I hope to guard myself, proud Earl! Although thou be my enemy, I trust I run no mighty peril.”

“However high, Sir King, I ride, Thou lov’st to play a higher part; Hast thou ne’er heard the olden word That power must often yield to art?

“I’m not so mighty nor so strong That I can hope to bar thy way, But oft I’ve seen a greyhound keen Alone the antler’d monarch slay.

“I’m not at the head of so many swords, That I can check thee when thou wouldst pass; But a little lever, if us’d but clever, Can overturn a weighty mass.”

Then away rode he the young Marsk Stig, To Ingeborga’s bower repairing: “Now welcome thrice, Marsk Stig,” she cries, “I’ve heard of Marsk Stig’s manly bearing.

“Fear not the King nor all his might, Of courage high he has no spark; Throughout the state he’s won the hate Of every layman, priest, and clerk.

“I have a loving nephew got Who waits the traitor King upon; He’ll be our spy, and privily Will send us word when the King’s alone.

“And when ye’ve slain the brutal pard Who in drink and slumber finds delight, By ye will stand of Norway land The King so bold with his men of might.

“If thou on Helm a fortress build It ne’er can be won by human hands, From its brow so high you may Sealand spy, Jutland, and other lesser lands.

“Whilst thou dost live thou a knight shalt be, But my grief for me is far too strong; So blythe my breath I’ll yield to death When Marshal Stig has aveng’d my wrong.

“I ne’er have peace nor gladness known Since tyrant Glepping’s deed of force; May Jesus bless with good success My gallant Stig in his gallant course.

“And bless our daughters’ youthful blood, Oft, full oft on their fate I ponder; Much I fear when I’m gone from here, Far and wide they’ll have to wander.

“An action high shall never die, Whatever dastard lips may say; ’Twill wake up bold from out the mould And boldly speak on the judgment day.

“Then speed thee, knight, with thee is right, Avenge the heart which loves thee dear; On earthly shore though we meet no more, We shall meet again in the sky so clear.”