Torkild he is the doughtiest man
That can bear a sword at his side;
And every day when dawn lights the East
His great delight is to ride.
Her face changes hue when she sees him.
He now rides off at break of day,
As birds fly up so free;
He seeks to woo gentle Adelitz,
So fair a maid is she.
He rides off to graze his herd
Out on Sir Lave’s land;
He promises gentle Adelitz
He wishes to gain her hand.
He was there for one night,
And he was there for two;
There was no one heard of this,
Or knew it to be true.
There was no one heard of this,
Or knew it to be true;
Except gentle Adelitz’s maid,
And his attendants two.
Torkild takes her in his embrace,
To her he speaks with kind heart;
It is pitiful to separate
Those who never would be apart.
Then spoke unto him Adelitz’s maid,
Of decency and honour;
My lady’s virtue, Torkild, I pray
You never will take from her.
To this replied Torkild Trundesen,
With solemn heart spoke he;
I swear to you, young Ellen,
I shall treat her courteously.
Torkild had garments made for her,
Such as she gladly would own;
And every single stitch they bore
With fine red gold was sewn.
Gentle Adelitz she did exclaim
When she these garments saw;
May Christ bless all the tailors
Who have worked their fingers sore.
May Christ bless all the tailors
Who have worked their fingers sore;
But first and last Torkil Trundesen,
Who the cost of all this bore.
The king a special assembly called,
Which knights and high men should attend;
But Torkild Trundesen came not
Till the day was nigh at an end.
It was on a Sunday,
So holy a time did preside;
It was Torkil Trundesen,
To the king he did finally ride.
Torkild on horseback arrived at the court
At the head of his sturdy throng;
The king in person asked him,
What was it kept you so long?
Out with my hawk and with my dog,
I rode to the clearing so green;
Any man taking his herd to graze,
Must needs rest a while, I wean.
Out to Sir Lave’s land you ride,
In order your herd to tend;
The same herd that you fondly graze,
Will bring your life to an end.
I will give you something else to do
Than graze your herd near and far;
You are to journey to Iceland,
Along with Sir Esben Snare.
Then answered Torkil Trundesen,
He answered his lord without guile;
So often in Iceland I have been,
I deserve to be home for a while.
It was the King of the Danes,
On the table he struck his fist;
He pondered there for quite a while
On what Torkil had said in their midst.
Here are those that feel pity,
And forgotten you will not be;
Hear you, Torkild Trundesen,
To Iceland you shall for me.
It was Torkil Trundesen,
He wisely chose to consent;
You are my Master, I am your man,
Where’er you would have me sent.
It was on a Sunday,
So holy a time did preside;
Torkild he sent his man ahead,
Asked the priest for him to bide.
It was Torkil Trundesen,
Had his steed got ready to ride;
He sets off at once to the selfsame church
Where Adelitz sits inside.
It was Torkil Trundesen,
The church he enters so free;
The ladies and gentle maidens there
He greets most courteously.
He speaks to ladies and maidens alike,
That closest to him he’d profess;
But first and last gentle Adelitz,
The one that his heart loves best.
It was gentle Adelitz,
Took her mother on one side;
Who is to be the king’s messenger,
That to Iceland has to ride?
Then answered her dear mother,
She smiled to herself apart;
That is to be Torkild Trundesen,
The dearest of all to your heart.
I have no more to do with Torkild,
Than with all the other young men;
May the Lord God let me see the day,
When Torkild returns safe again.
The mass was sung and over,
Back home the people all went;
Torkild and gentle Adelitz,
Much time in talking spent.
Listen to me gentle Adelitz,
Do not grieve or be sad for me;
A short while, not even half as long,
I must travel to Iceland by sea.
A brief sea journey is soon at an end
That to Iceland me will take;
A brief time seems far too long to one
Who grieves or is sad for my sake.
It was gentle Adelitz,
Followed Torkild to his horse;
When she later returned again,
The tears down her cheeks did course.
Joy was in short measure,
They wished each other good night;
Then a fair and gentle wind arose
To Iceland their boat took flight.
Four of his own true men,
He took with him when he set sail;
The others were to remain at home
And keep his love safe without fail.
They hoisted up their silken sail,
Under their gilded spar;
Then they did make for Iceland,
Within two months they sailed that far.
They hoisted up their silken sail,
Aided by fair wind and star;
Then they did make for Iceland,
Within two months they sailed that far.
The wind it blew, the ships sailed on,
And the waves they washed on board;
In silence sat Torkil Trundesen,
He spoke not a single word.
It was Esben Snare,
He spoke of the wind so hale;
The sea has not been sailed today
That Thorkild’s cheek needs grow pale.
I sea I will gladly sail with you,
With a thousand guilders at stake;
I will gladly split a lance with you
For each virtuous maiden’s sake.
Then they did all cast anchor
Up on the silver sand;
Torkild and Sir Esbern Snare
Were the first to tread on land.
Once within the courtyard
They shouldered their finest skins;
They then climbed up the many stairs
To Iceland’s king entered in.
Hail to you, King of Iceland,
Who at your great table sit;
The King of Denmark has sent you
Letters and words he sees fit.
It was the King of Iceland,
When the letters he had read;
Took in his hand a little knife
Cut them in tiny shreds.
Then said the King of Iceland,
The memories flooded in;
But once did one hear of a swain so poor,
That so rich a maid did win.
Then answered Torkild Trundesen,
Right next to the king he stood proud;
The letter was scarcely so badly writ
That it needs be read out aloud.
Mark thee well, Torkild Trundesen,
Full well do I know thee;
Seven barrels of shining silver
Did thy father levy from me.
Seven barrels of shining silver
Did thy father levy from me.
Eight barrels of the finest red gold
I would not trade for thee.
Then answered Torkil Trundesen,
More boldly than he was bid;
I cannot life-long be held to account
For what my father did.
Mark thee well, Torkil Trundesen,
Shouldst thou not have heard it before;
It still applies to the little pig
What was done by the fat old boar.
Thus answered Torkild Trundesen,
In words quite direct, not uncouth;
The little piglet will soon grow up
And full of sharp teeth is his mouth.
All of the king’s men were then allowed
To their country to sail back home;
Apart from Torkild Trundesen,
Who had to remain there alone.
All of the King of Denmark’s men
Could return to their loves by and by;
Except for Torkil Trundesen.
Who there in the tower was to die.
They then seized Torkild Trundesen,
In the tower they him confined;
He thought of ladies and maidens gentle,
But most for his sweetheart he pined.
All of the Danish retainers stood there,
Sad at this misuse of power;
They took poor Torkild Trundesen
Led him fettered down into the tower.
Then did Torkild’s servant lad,
Clad in a kirtel red;
If I cannot follow Sir Torkild home,
I will stay with him here till I’m dead.
Now listen, Sir Esbern Snare,
To gentle Adelitz please this convey;
A thousand good nights from me to her,
Ask her not to forget me, I pray.
Tell her that she shall both dance and sing,
Be happy, with joy be blessed;
Within a year and a day I hope
With her to build us a nest.
They hoisted up their silken sail,
Under their gilded spar;
Then they did make for Denmark,
Within two months they sailed that far.
Then they did all cast anchor
Up on the silver sand;
It was Sir Esbern Snare,
Who was first to tread on land.
It was Sir Esbern snare,
Who was first to tread on land;
It was the gentle maid Adelitz,
She held out her lily-white hand.
Welcome Sir Esbern Snare,
And will you tell me true;
Where now is Torkild Trundesen
Who left the land with you.
Torkild her serves in Iceland,
For honour and gold so clear;
A thousand good nights he sends to you,
Who are to him most dear.
He bade you neither to grieve or pine,
To be happy, with joy be blessed;
Before a year and a day are past,
He with you will build a nest.
Then answered gentle Adelitz
On her cheek the tears did shine;
May the Lord God in heaven ordain
That Torkild one day shall be mine.
Then did the small young boy speak up,
He was clad in a kirtel red;
Torkild he sits in Iceland,
In a tower locked up till he’s dead.
Torkild he sits in Iceland,
In a dungeon foul he is kept;
He bade you by almighty God,
You him never will forget.
If Torkild now is in Iceland,
And in a tower has to sit;
Then I in truth will say to you,
This is not to my benefit.
If Torkild Trundesen now sits
In a dungeon foul he is kept;
I will risk my life for Torkild,
Him will I never forget.
It was not just thereafter,
But almost two months as well;
It was Sir Stig Jonsen,
Who south of the river did dwell.
It was Sir Stig Jonsen,
His horse he had saddled withal;
I will ride northwards through the land,
On Sir Lave will make a call.
It was Sir Stig Jonsen,
Into the courtyard he rode;
Out there stands Sir Lave,
Swathed in a fine ermine coat.
Hail stand you there, Sir Lave
In your ermine coat well dressed;
Grant to me gentle Adelitz
The daughter whom you love best.
To this answered Sir Lave,
He was both clever and wise;
I will consult my daughter
And you of her will apprise.
Hail sit you here gentle Adelitz,
Well it is that you live;
Sir Stig Jonsen would have your hand,
And you to him will I give.
Hail sit you here gentle Adelitz,
May you fare well all your life;
Sir Stig Jonsen would have your hand,
And you are to be his wife.
Then answered gentle Adelitz,
She swore by both God and man;
To give my hand in marriage
Has as yet never been my plan.
Then answered her dear mother,
And this is what she said;
The man on whom her mind is set
Lies in Iceland till he is dead.
The man he lies in Iceland,
On whom all your mind is set;
Even were he not on Iceland,
You shall never with him be wed.
I have no more to do with Torkild
Than with all the other young men;
May the Lord God let me see the day
When Torkild returns safe again.
Then answered Adelitz’s maid,
And this is what she said;
Do not give my lady some other man
Than the one she wishes to wed.
At once Sir Lave answered,
A hot-tempered man was he;
I shall certainly give my daughter away,
And no servant shall counsel me.
They never obtained her acceptance,
And never a yes did she say;
Yet they drank to their betrothal,
That very same month and same day.
They drank to their betrothal,
And the wedding was organised;
Adelitz and her servant maid
Together a plan devised.
It was late in the evening,
When they followed the bride to her bed;
Gentle Adelitz and her maid,
These words to each other then said.
Listen my sweet Ellinelill,
Will you be the bride in my stead;
Full well I’ll reward you if you do,
All the days that may lie ahead.
Then answered her maid Ellinelill,
She answer most honestly;
Gladly will I accept to do
Whatever your will might be.
It was late that evening,
The two arranged it this way;
Ellinelill went to the bridal bed,
While Adelitz stole away.
It was Sir Stig Jonsen,
He patted her lily-white cheek;
Am I now the dearest in your mind,
And no other man you seek?
It was Ellinelill,
Her lady’s words; said as assigned;
You are indeed the dearest one,
For Torkild could never be mine.
I will never swear falsely
That Torkild was not more than kind;
But in truth I can tell you,
Dishonour was far from his mind.
Early the next morning,
The two arranged it this way;
Adelitz went to the bridal bed
And Ellen she stole away.
Early the next morning,
As soon as the sun grew red;
It was the King of Denmark,
He goes to the bridal bed.
I will give to you the white silver,
And also the red-gold ore;
If you say no word Sir Stig Jonsen
That the bride was a virgin no more.
I will give to you the white silver.
And the red-gold bracelet too;
If you say no word Sir Stig Jonsen
Of some doubt about her virtue.
You can keep all your white silver,
And your gold so bright red;
You gave me gentle Adelitz,
A virgin fair to wed.
If this is the truth you are telling,
That Adelitz still was a maid;
Then Torkild Trundesen need not
Imprisoned in Iceland have stayed.
The wedding was celebrated
Till the eighth day soon was come;
When the feasting then was over,
The bride they all followed home.
It was not just thereafter,
But almost five months as well;
It was Torkild Trundesen
Once more in Denmark could dwell.
It was Torkild Trundesen
Once more in Denmark could dwell;
Strong the tidings were he gained,
And some of them painful as well.
Strong indeed the tidings were,
But what pained him most of all,
It was Sir Stig Jonsen
Who Adelitz had in his thrall.
It was on a Sunday,
So holy a time did preside;
Torkild he sent his men ahead,
Asked the priest for him to bide.
Torkild he went into the church,
His hair like a gleaming gold sheaf;
It could be seen by looking at him,
His heart was full of grief.
It was Torkil Trundesen,
He weighed his words with care;
Who removed the bright-red gold
Gentle Adelitz used to wear?
To this replied the small young boy.
To Torkild he this did tell;
It was Sir Stig Jonsen who did this,
Who south of the river did dwell.
The mass was sung and over,
Back home the people go;
Torkild he walks up the nave,
And greets all those he knows.
He speaks to ladies and maidens alike,
That closest to him he’d profess;
First and last to gentle Adelitz,
The one that his heart loves best.
Listen gentle Adelitz,
And say if you agree;
If it was of your own free will
That you broke faith with me.
Then answered gentle Adelitz,
Subduedly and calm of mind;
My friends and family did this,
I constantly declined.
Listen gentle Adelitz,
And say if you agree;
I intend then to slay Sir Stig Jonsen,
And from him set you free.
You listen Torkild Trundesen,
With that I will never agree;
The same God who us together brought
From him shall set me free.
Now hear me Torkild Trundesen,
My plea please understand;
You are to ride up northwards,
For Sir Peder’s daughter’s hand.
Not for the hand of the youngest
Of the eldest even less;
You must ask for gentle Sidsellill,
For she is the one who is best.
You must ask for gentle Sidsellill,
She is fair and pale of hue;
And everyone who sees her
Says that she is so like me too.
Listen gentle Adelitz,
For your sake I this will do;
Though I must tell you truthfully,
I can never love her as you.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
His horse he had saddled withal;
I will ride northwards through the land,
On Sir Peder will make a call.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
Into the courtyard he rode;
Out there stands Sir Peder,
Swathed in a fine ermine coat.
Hail stand you there, Sir Peder,
In your ermine coat well dressed;
Grant to me gentle Sidsellill
The daughter whom you love best.
To this answered Sir Peder,
He was a man so wise;
I will consult my daughter
And you of her will apprise.
Hail sit you here gentle Sidsellill,
Well it is that you live;
Torkik Trundesen would have your hand,
And you to him will I give.
To this replied gentle Sidsellill,
Her mind was restrained and clear;
It is no good thing to say yes to a man
Whom another holds so dear.
They finally gained her acceptance,
And yes she did gladly say;
They drank to their betrothal,
On that same month and same day.
It was Torkild Trundesen
His horse he had saddled withal;
I will ride northwards through the land,
On my dear mother will make a call.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
His mother he asked as his guide;
Who shall be one of the bridesmaids
That is to lead up my bride?
His dear mother then answered,
She smiled to herself apart;
You are to ask gentle Adelitz,
The dearest of all to your heart.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
His horse he had saddled withal;
I will ride northwards through the land,
On Sir Stig Jonsen make a call.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
Into the courtyard he rode;
Out there stands Sir Stig Jonsen,
Swathed in a fine ermine coat.
Hail stand you there gentle Adelitz,
In your ermine coat so wide;
Will you be one of the bridesmaids
That is to lead up my bride?
For a long time stood gentle Adelitz
Not a word did she dare reply;
To this Sir Stig Jonsen he said yes,
With his wish you may comply.
She cut under two pieces of silk,
And two cloths of sendal weave;
No one who came to the wedding,
Had so fine a gift to give.
No one who came to the wedding,
Had such a gift for the bride;
She gave to her the very same man
Whom she would have had at her side.
It was gentle Adelitz,
She rides to meet Torkild’s bride;
The silks and the crimson sendal
Hung over the horse’s sides.
They rode out over green meadows
And through forests green their rode;
Torkild’s white hand never left
Gentle Adelitz’s saddle bow.
Hear me gentle Adelitz,
How did you danger evade;
What did Sir Stig Jonsen say to you,
For you were no longer a maid.
For this I thank Ellin my servant maid,
The bride’s place she did take;
My honour she redeemed that night
With her lily-white neck, for your sake.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
He heard this with a smile;
This evening I must take great care
To avoid such female guile.
Then answered gentle Adelitz,
She smiled to herself apart;
Where did you find such indecent words,
You dearest one to my heart.
It was late in the evening,
They followed the bride to her bed;
Torkild and gentle Adelitz
They had so much to be said.
Why do you stand here so long a time,
You are only making things worse;
Your bride will be most ungrateful,
My master me sorely will curse.
May the true God truly help me,
With grief and pain me not chide;
I would rather stand talking to you here
Than sleep next to my bride.
May the Lord God of Heaven help me,
Save me from sorrow and harm;
I would rather stand talking to you here
Than sleep on my bride’s white arm.
It was gentle Adelitz
The bed curtains she shut tight;
Her round eyes and her heart they wept,
It brought her no delight.
It was gentle Adelitz,
The silk coverlets she did trace;
God in Heaven only knows,
I long to take the bride’s place.
It was gentle Adelitz,
She shut the door so tight;
Torkild and his fair young bride
She wished a thousand good nights.
It was Sir Stigen Jonsen,
Was by deadly disease laid low;
It was gentle Adelitz
By his bedside walked to and fro.
It was Sir Stig Jonsen,
Said words of despair so wild;
God in heaven has not seen fit
To grant us both a child.
Then answered gentle Adelitz,
To herself did these words consign;
Your rich kin will put this right,
And this place will be mine.
It was Sir Stig Jonsen,
His face he turned to the wall;
And what I say is truth no less,
For him now death did call.
In then came the small young boy,
Was clad in a kirtel red;
A Pater Noster for Sir Stig Jonsen
He prayed ere he was dead.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
With his fist the table-board struck;
A Pater Noster for his soul he prayed,
Delighted at this stroke of luck.
It was not just thereafter
But a further full months three;
It was gentle Sidsel
Bore a son as fair as could be.
It was gentle Sidsel,
She was so fair a wife
And what I say is the truth no less,
The son it cost her her life.
It was gentle Adelitz,
Said when the news was brought;
Lord God the Father in heaven,
He knows my every thought.
Lord God the Father in heaven,
He knows for what I have prayed:
Let me before a year and a day
Be neither widow nor maid.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
His horse he had saddled withal;
I will ride northwards through the land,
On gentle Adelitz make a call.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
Into the courtyard he rode;
Out there stands gentle Adelitz,
Swathed in a fine ermine coat.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
To her he said outright;
Hear me gentle Adelitz,
Lend me your house for the night.
Hear you Torkild Trundesen,
Get down from your horse and rest;
If you would here at home be,
That for you would be best.
Hear me now Torkild Trundesen,
You need for long be alone;
One year as a widow from now I will sit
In my own abode on my own.
Great happiness they both did feel,
Now they to each other belong;
They only had but one regret,
That the summer night was not long.
This did gentle Adelitz
While alone she sat once again;
She gave to Ellen her servant maid
One of Torkild’s young men.
It was Torkild Trundesen
His horse he had saddled withal;
I will ride northwards through the land,
On Sir Lave will make a call.
It was Torkild Trundesen,
Into the courtyard he rode;
Out there stands Sir Lave,
Swathed in a fine ermine coat.
Hail stand you there, Sir Lave
In your ermine coat well dressed;
Grant to me gentle Adelitz
The daughter whom you love best.
Then answered Sir Lave,
He was a man so wise;
I will consult my daughter,
And you of her will apprise.
Hail sit you here gentle Adelitz,
Well it is that you live;
Torkil Trundesen would have your hand,
And you to him will I give.
With my scissors and stitches fine,
I can earn a livelihood;
I do not intend to marry again,
It brings more trouble than good.
With your scissors and stitches fine,
It’s a poor life you have in view;
You must certainly marry again,
Like other good women do.
Then answered gentle Adelitz,
She laughed so loudly, I vow;
To get married never entered my mind,
By which I mean until now.
It was gentle Adelitz,
To her mother these words she said;
But Torkild is the very same man
You said I never should wed.
They finally gained her acceptance,
And yes she did gladly say;
They drank to their betrothal,
On that same month and same day.
They drank to their betrothal,
With delight and happiness;
And no red gold for some alloy
Was spared this joy to express.
They drank to their betrothal,
Joy and delight filled each breast;
And happy and contented
With seven sons have they been blessed.
Her face changes hue when she sees him.
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