That heard the goodly Signy

  And she wrang her hands full sore:

  “Hearken and heed, O Hafbur,

  Who stand without by the door!”

  Thank and praise to the King’s son Hafbur,

  Manly he played and stout!

  None might lay hand upon him

  While the bed-post yet held out.

  But they took him, the King’s son Hafbur,

  And set him in bolts new wrought;

  Then lightly he rent them asunder,

  As though they were leaden and nought.

  Out and spake the ancient nurse,

  And she gave a rede of ill:

  “Bind ye him but in Signy’s hair,

  So shall hand and foot lie still.

  “Take ye but one of Signy’s hairs

  Hafbur’s hands to bind,

  Ne’er shall he rend them asunder

  His heart to her is so kind.”

  Then took they two of Signy’s hairs

  Bonds for his hands to be,

  Nor might he rive them asunder

  So dear to his heart was she.

  Then spake the sweetling Signy

  As the tears fast down her cheek did fall:

  “O rend it asunder, Hafbur,

  That gift to thee I give withal.”

  * * * * *

  Now sat the King’s son Hafbur

  Amidst the castle-hall,

  And thronged to behold him man and maid,

  But the damsels chiefest of all.

  They took him, the King’s son Hafbur,

  Laid bolts upon him in that place,

  And ever went Signy to and fro,

  The weary tears fell down apace.

  She speaketh to him in sorrowful mood:

  “This will I, Hafbur, for thee,

  Piteous prayer for thee shall make

  My mother’s sisters three.

  “For my father’s mind stands fast in this,

  To do thee to hang upon the bough

  On the topmost oak in the morning-tide

  While the sun is yet but low.”

  But answered thereto young Hafbur

  Out of a wrathful mind:

  “Of all heeds I heeded, this was the last,

  To be prayed for by womankind.

  “But hearken, true-love Signy,

  Good heart to my asking turn,

  When thou seest me swing on oaken-bough

  Then let thy high-bower burn.”

  Then answered the noble Signy,

  So sore as she must moan,

  “God to aid, King’s son Hafbur,

  Well will I grant thy boon.”

  * * * * *

  They followed him, King Hafbur,

  Thick thronging from the castle-bent:

  And all who saw him needs must greet

  And in full piteous wise they went.

  But when they came to the fair green mead

  Where Hafbur was to die,

  He prayed them hold a little while:

  For his true-love would he try.

  “O hang me up my cloak of red,

  That sight or my ending let me see.

  Perchance yet may King Siward rue

  My hanging on the gallows tree.”

  Now of the cloak was Signy ware

  And sorely sorrow her heart did rive,

  She thought: “The ill tale all is told,

  No longer is there need to live.”

  Straightway her damsels did she call

  As weary as she was of mind:

  “Come, let us go to the bower aloft

  Game and glee for a while to find.”

  Yea and withal spake Signy,

  She spake a word of price:

  “To-day shall I do myself to death

  And meet Hafbur in Paradise.

  “And whoso there be in this our house

  Lord Hafbur’s death that wrought,

  Good reward I give them now

  To red embers to be brought.

  “So many there are in the King’s garth

  Of Hafbur’s death shall be glad;

  Good reward for them to lose

  The trothplight mays they had.”

  She set alight to the bower-aloft

  And it burned up speedily,

  And her good love and her great heart

  Might all with eyen see.

  * * * * *

  It was the King’s son Hafbur

  O’er his shoulder cast his eye,

  And beheld how Signy’s house of maids

  On a red low stood on high.

  “Now take ye down my cloak of red,

  Let it lie on the earth a-cold;

  Had I ten lives of the world for one,

  Nought of them all would I hold.”

  King Siward looked out of his window fair,

  In fearful mood enow,

  For he saw Hafbur hanging on oak

  And Signy’s bower on a low.

  Out then spake a little page

  Was clad in kirtle red:

  “Sweet Signy burns in her bower aloft,

  With all her mays unwed.”

  Therewithal spake King Siward

  From rueful heart unfain:

  “Ne’er saw I two King’s children erst

  Such piteous ending gain.

  “But had I wist or heard it told

  That love so strong should be,

  Ne’er had I held those twain apart

  For all Denmark given me.

  O hasten and run to Signy’s bower

  For the life of that sweet thing;

  Hasten and run to the gallows high,

  No thief is Hafbur the King.”

  But when they came to Signy’s bower

  Low it lay in embers red;

  And when they came to the gallows tree,

  Hafbur was stark and dead.

  They took him the King’s son Hafbur,

  Swathed him in linen white,

  And laid him in the earth of Christ

  By Signy his delight.

  O wilt thou win me then,

  or as fair a maid as I be?

  GOLDILOCKS AND GOLDILOCKS.

  It was Goldilocks woke up in the morn

  At the first of the shearing of the corn.

  There stood his mother on the hearth

  And of new-leased wheat was little dearth.

  There stood his sisters by the quern,

  For the high-noon cakes they needs must earn.

  “O tell me Goldilocks my son,

  Why hast thou coloured raiment on?”

  “Why should I wear the hodden grey

  When I am light of heart to-day?”

  “O tell us, brother, why ye wear

  In reaping-tide the scarlet gear?

  Why hangeth the sharp sword at thy side

  When through the land ’tis the hook goes wide?”

  “Gay-clad am I that men may know

  The freeman’s son where’er I go.

  The grinded sword at side I bear

  Lest I the dastard’s word should hear.”

  “O tell me Goldilocks my son,

  Of whither away thou wilt be gone?”

  “The morn is fair and the world is wide

  And here no more will I abide.”

  “O Brother, when wilt thou come again?”

  “The autumn drought, and the winter rain,

  The frost and the snow, and St. David’s wind,

  All these that were time out of mind,

  All these a many times shall be

  Ere the Upland Town again I see.”

  “O Goldilocks my son, farewell,

  As thou wendest the world ‘twixt home and hell!”

  “O brother Goldilocks, farewell,

  Come back with a tale for men to tell!”

  * * * * *

  So ’tis wellaway for Goldilocks,

  As he left the land of the wheaten shocks.

  He’s gotten him far from the Upland Town,

  And he’s gone by Dale and he’s gone by Down.

  He’s come to the wild-wood dark and drear,

  Where never the bird’s song doth he hear.

  He has slept in the moonless wood and dim

  With never a voice to comfort him.

  He has risen up under the little light

  Where the noon is as dark as the summer night.

  Six days therein has he walked alone

  Till his scrip was bare and his meat was done.

  On the seventh morn in the mirk, mirk wood,

  He saw sight that he deemed was good.

  It was as one sees a flower a-bloom

  In the dusky heat of a shuttered room.

  He deemed the fair thing far aloof,

  And would go and put it to the proof.

  But the very first step he made from the place

  He met a maiden face to face.

  Face to face, and so close was she

  That their lips met soft and lovingly.

  Sweet-mouthed she was, and fair he wist;

  And again in the darksome wood they kissed.

  Then first in the wood her voice he heard,

  As sweet as the song of the summer bird.

  “O thou fair man with the golden head,

  What is the name of thee?” she said.

  “My name is Goldilocks,” said he;

  “O sweet-breathed, what is the name of thee?”

  “O Goldilocks the Swain,” she said,

  “My name is Goldilocks the Maid.”

  He spake, “Love me as I love thee,

  And Goldilocks one flesh shall be.”

  She said, “Fair man, I wot not how

  Thou lovest, but I love thee now.

  But come a little hence away,

  That I may see thee in the day.

  For hereby is a wood-lawn clear

  And good for awhile for us it were.”

  Therewith she took him by the hand

  And led him into the lighter land.

  * * * * *

  There on the grass they sat adown.

  Clad she was in a kirtle brown.

  In all the world was never maid

  So fair, so evilly arrayed.

  No shoes upon her feet she had

  And scantly were her shoulders clad;

  Through her brown kirtle’s rents full wide

  Shone out the sleekness of her side.

  An old scrip hung about her neck,

  Nought of her raiment did she reck.

  No shame of all her rents had she;

  She gazed upon him eagerly.

  She leaned across the grassy space

  And put her hands about his face.

  She said: “O hunger-pale art thou,

  Yet shalt thou eat though I hunger now.”

  She took him apples from her scrip,

  She kissed him, cheek and chin and lip.

  She took him cakes of woodland bread:

  “Whiles am I hunger-pinched,” she said.

  She had a gourd and a pilgrim shell;

  She took him water from the well.

  She stroked his breast and his scarlet gear;

  She spake, “How brave thou art and dear!”

  Her arms about him did she wind;

  He felt her body dear and kind.

  * * * * *

  “O love,” she said, “now two are one,

  And whither hence shall we be gone?”

  “Shall we fare further than this wood,”

  Quoth he, “I deem it dear and good?”

  She shook her head, and laughed, and spake;

  “Rise up! For thee, not me, I quake.

  Had she been minded me to slay

  Sure she had done it ere to-day.

  But thou: this hour the crone shall know

  That thou art come, her very foe.

  No minute more on tidings wait,

  Lest e’en this minute be too late.”

  She led him from the sunlit green,

  Going sweet-stately as a queen.

  There in the dusky wood, and dim,

  As forth they went, she spake to him:

  “Fair man, few people have I seen

  Amidst this world of woodland green:

  But I would have thee tell me now

  If there be many such as thou.”

  “Betwixt the mountains and the sea,

  O Sweet, be many such,” said he.

  Athwart the glimmering air and dim

  With wistful eyes she looked on him.

  “But ne’er an one so shapely made

  Mine eyes have looked upon,” she said.

  He kissed her face, and cried in mirth:

  “Where hast thou dwelt then on the earth?”

  “Ever,” she said, “I dwell alone

  With a hard-handed cruel crone.

  And of this crone am I the thrall

  To serve her still in bower and hall;

  And fetch and carry in the wood,

  And do whate’er she deemeth good.

  But whiles a sort of folk there come

  And seek my mistress at her home;

  But such-like are they to behold

  As make my very blood run cold.

  Oft have I thought, if there be none

  On earth save these, would all were done!

  Forsooth, I knew it was nought so,

  But that fairer folk on earth did grow.

  But fain and full is the heart in me

  To know that folk are like to thee.”

  Then hand in hand they stood awhile

  Till her tears rose up beneath his smile.

  And he must fold her to his breast

  To give her heart a while of rest.

  Till sundered she and gazed about,

  And bent her brows as one in doubt.

  She spake: “The wood is growing thin,

  Into the full light soon shall we win.

  Now crouch we that we be not seen,

  Under yon bramble-bushes green.”

  Under the bramble-bush they lay

  Betwixt the dusk and the open day.

  * * * * *

  “O Goldilocks my love, look forth

  And let me know what thou seest of worth.”

  He said: “I see a house of stone,

  A castle excellently done.”

  “Yea,” quoth she, “There doth the mistress dwell

  What next thou seest shalt thou tell.”

  “What lookest thou to see come forth?”

  “Maybe a white bear of the North.”

  “Then shall my sharp sword lock his mouth.”

  “Nay,” she said, “or a worm of the South.”

  “Then shall my sword his hot blood cool.”

  “Nay, or a whelming poison-pool.”

  “The trees its swelling flood shall stay,

  And thrust its venomed lip away.”

  “Nay, it may be a wild-fire flash

  To burn thy lovely limbs to ash.”

  “On mine own hallows shall I call,

  And dead its flickering flame shall fall.”

  “O Goldilocks my love, I fear

  That ugly death shall seek us here.

  Look forth, O Goldilocks my love,

  That I thine hardy heart may prove.

  What cometh down the stone-wrought stair

  That leadeth up to the castle fair?”

  “Adown the doorward stair of stone

  There cometh a woman all alone.”

  “Yea, that forsooth shall my mistress be:

  O Goldilocks, what like is she?”

  “O fair she is of her array,

  As hitherward she wends her way.”

  “Unlike her wont is that indeed:

  Is she not foul beneath her weed?”

  “O nay, nay! But most wondrous fair

  Of all the women earth doth bear.”

  “O Goldilocks, my heart, my heart!

  Woe, woe! for now we drift apart.”

  But up he sprang from the bramble-side,

  And “O thou fairest one!” he cried:

  And forth he ran that Queen to meet,

  And fell before her gold-clad feet.

  About his neck her arms she cast,

  And into the fair-built house they passed.

  And under the bramble-bushes lay

  Unholpen, Goldilocks the may.

  * * * * *

  Thenceforth a while of time there wore,

  And Goldilocks came forth no more.

  Throughout that house he wandered wide,

  Both up and down, from side to side.

  But never he saw an evil crone,

  But a full fair Queen on a golden throne.

  Never a barefoot maid did he see,

  But a gay and gallant company.

  He sat upon the golden throne,

  And beside him sat the Queen alone.

 

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