Queen Sophia’s songbook is an important collection of Danish folk songs and noble songs preserved in a manuscript from the late 1500s. It is known for its versatility and contains religious, supernatural, and historical songs. The manuscript has belonged to several noblewomen and has been supplemented over time.
Den ældste danske viseoverlevering
Manuscript: Dronning Sophias visebog
Number: 9
Page: 117
Title: The costly cloak
Den dyre kaabe
Thett war skiønnen iomfrue,
hun ganger y lunden saa ienne:
møder hinder fouveren unger-suend
udi thi grønner enge.
:: Alt om en somerssens morgenn. ::
‘Well møtt, fowerenn ungen-suend,
udi thesse grønner ennge!
thager y begis wor kabe,
y reder oss enn seng theraff!’
‘Ieg breder icke min kabe under thig,
thend er aff skarlagen grøenn:
bliffuer hun et sind y dogenn bløtt,
hun rømper y huer end søem.
Ieg breder icke min kobe under thig,
hun er af skarlagenn niu:
allenn stod meg XV mark,
ieg kiøbtenn y Stackholems biu.’
‘Mynn moder hun bour her nør y by,
hun haffuer thi bolster fem:
y bider meg, fouveren unger-suend,
men ieg henther oss ien aff dem!
Min moder hun boer her nør y biu,
hun haffuer thi bolster ni:
y bider meg, fouvren unger-suend,
men ieg henther oss ien aff di!’
Hun slou kobenn øffuer hanns hoffuit,
bad, hannd skulde stannde och bide:
hun gick bourt, hun kom icke igienn,
hun sueg hannom under lide.
Hun slo kobenn offuer hanns hoffuit,
bad, hannd skulde bide enn stund:
hun gick bourtt, kom aller igienn,
hun sueg hannom mange fald.
Bourtt tha gick thenn skiønne iomfrue,
saa hierthelig hun loe:
hindis kabe thend war aff gyldenn-støcke,
hindis kiorttell paa iorden drog.
Hand stod ther y dag, hannd stod ther y tho,
udi thi grønne ennge:
icke kom thend skiønne iomfrue
med kleder thill thieris sennge.
Thett stod saa fra paaske
och enndthill pindtz-dags thide:
icke tha thuorde thennd unger-suend
thill kierkenn for thend iomfrue ride.
Thennd suend hannd kom for kiercke-døer,
och hand thennd iomfrue kiende:
‘Huor bleff the goude wille, wy haffde thill-sammell?
hui fick thet saa skiden en ende?’
‘Thett matt thu thacke din kabe for,
hun war aff skarlagen ny:
allen stod deg femttann marck,
thu kiøbt-en i Stackholoms by.
Thet matt thu thacke din kabe for,
thu hagde then alt saa kier:
hagde hun bløffuen y dogen bløtt,
hun hagde rømpet y huerende søm.
Hør thu, herre Mognos!
alt om thu wilt mig thro:
ieg bød theg enganng ett hoffmandtz-bud,
thu thuord icke thage ther-emod.
Hagde ieg werit en skiøn unger-suend som thu,
och hagde meg en iomfrue møtt:
hagde min kobe werit aff gyllden-støcker,
y dogen thuorde ieg hinder bløtt.’
:: Alt om en somerssens morgen. ::
The costly cloak
There was a beautiful maiden
she walks in a grove on her own:
a handsome man chances to meet her there
in green meadows all alone.
:: All on a bright summer morning.::
‘Well met, you fine and handsome young man,
out in these meadows so green!
take you our cloaks and make us a bed
that’s fit for a king and his queen!’
‘My cloak I will never spread under you,
it’s made of best scarlet so green:
were it made the merest bit moist by dew
it would come apart at each seam!
My cloak I will never spread under you,
of fine new scarlet it’s wrought:
full XV marks by the ell it cost –
in Stockholm town it was bought.’
‘My mother lives near in the town due north,
five cushions no less does she own:
just wait for me, you handsome young man,
while I fetch one now for our throne!
My mother lives near in a town due north,
nine cushions no less does she own:
just wait for me, you handsome young man,
while I fetch one to grace our throne!’
Over his head she spread his cloak,
she bade him wait and stand still:
off she went, and did not come again,
she tricked him below the hill.
Over his head she spread his cloak,
she bade him wait for a while:
off she went, and did not come again,
she tricked him there with great guile.
Off the lovely maiden went,
laughed at him then with great mirth:
her cloak it was of gold brocade
her kirtle it touched the earth.
He stood there one day, he stood there two,
out in the meadow so fair;
the lovely maiden ne’er returned
with clothes for to line their lair.
So things stood from Easter
right up to Whitsuntide:
the young man all that time for the maid
to the church did not dare ride.
The young man came then to the church,
where he recognised the maid:
‘What became of the goodwill we once shared?
why have I been so betrayed?’
‘That you must thank your fine cloak for
the one of new scarlet wrought:
that cost you XV marks by the ell
and in Stockholm town was bought.
That you must thank your fine cloak for,
that too dear to you has been:
the one that if moistened by the dew
would come apart at each seam!
Just listen here, Sir Magnus!
Believe it or not, it’s true:
You did not dare accept what I
most graciously once offered you.
Had I been a handsome man like you,
and a maiden I had met:
though my cloak had been of gold brocade
with dew I’d have let it get wet.’
:: All on a bright summer morning. ::
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