The Treacherous Merman

"Now rede me, mother," the merman cried, "How Marsk Stig's daughter may be my bride."

She made him of water a noble steed, Of sands a saddle, and reins of reed.

To a young knight chang'd she then her son, And to Mary's church at speed he's gone.

To the church's ring his steed he bound, And three times backward the church pac'd round.

When in he strode so proud and tall Away the images turned them all.

The priest was standing with open book: "O who is yon knight of stately look?"

Then laughed the maiden within her sleeve: "If he were my husband I should not grieve."

He step'd over benches one and two: "O Marsk Stig's daughter I doat on you."

He stepped over benches three and four: "Give me thy troth I thee implore."

She gave him her hand with an air so free: "Here take thy troth, I will go with thee."

A bridal train from church they go, They danc'd so lightly and free from woe.

And when they came to the salt sea strand, The little boats turn'd away from the land.

"Now Marsk Stig's daughter hold my steed, To cross the water a boat we need."

To a little boat he chang'd his steed, And over the waves away they speed.

And when in the midst of the sound they were, Dissolv'd the boat into water fair.

Up the land far was heard the cry Of Marsk Stig's maid in her agony.

Now will I caution each maiden bright, To dance not away with an unknown knight.

Note.--The above Ballad is a later, and greatly improved, version of one which appeared under the title The Merman only, in the Romantic Ballads of 1826. The introduction of the incident of the changing by magic of the horse into a boat, furnishes a reason for the catastrophe which was lacking in the earlier version.

THE KNIGHT IN THE DEER'S SHAPE OR THE DECEIVER DECEIVED

It was the Knight Sir Peter, He dwelleth down by Oe; Nothing, nothing, will he do But sail about and row.

Sail about and row about Is all that he will do, So many a maiden he allures And proves to them untrue.

To servants two addressed him, Sir Peter of the isle: "With wily speeches win me The Damsel Usalile."

The gallant swains then riding To Usalile's home, A message sent inquiring If they to her might come.

In then came the gallants, Before the board they stood-- O, they were nimble at the tongue, Could speak in wily mode!

"Thy brothers seven from Skaane Thee lovingly do greet, On board this ship to meet them Their sister they entreat."

"O if with me for parlance My brothers are inclined, Here at her table sitting Their sister they will find.

"No lovely maid on shipboard Is ever wont to go, But sharp reproofs pursue her, And taunting words, I trow."

Away then ride the gallants And to their lord repair: "We cannot win the damsel By means of speeches fair."

"O I will have the damsel, And she shall yet be won; I vow me to deceive her By force of magic Rune."

Then o'er his broider'd trousers, And jacket flower'd fair, The skin of a hart he donneth The maiden to ensnare.

Now sported the wild little hart The damsel's house before, Glitter'd like the ruddy gold Each hair the creature bore.

Open stood the castle gate, The hart therein has stray'd; And lo with little puppies The merry maiden play'd.

Up and down he sported, To the green wood he sped; Behind the Damsel hasting In a leash the puppies led.

He sported up, he sported down, Towards the mead he hied; The Damsel speeding after With hand to lure him tried.

The Damsel speeding after With hand to lure him strove: "That yonder lovely hart were tame O would to God above!

"O would to God in heaven, That yonder hart were mine! Nothing should he ever drink Except the rosy wine.

"Nothing should he ever drink Except the rosy wine, And nowhere should he slumber Save in these arms of mine."

The knight he off has shaken The deer shape from his frame; In verity fair damsel, The hart he now is tame!

Long stood she, the Damsel, So deep reflected she: "O for some cunning artifice To rid me quick of thee!"

"Sir Peter, if what now I know I had but known before, The children I shall bear thee They ne'er should have been poor.

"Within my father's castle A little girl I strayed, When in the earth a treasure Of ruddy gold they laid.

"Down by the strand 'tis buried, Beneath a mighty stone." Thither to fetch the treasure In haste Sir Peter's gone.

He has broken up the flinty rock, So deep a hole he's made-- But none shall ever gold dig up Where gold was never laid!

One shall never gold dig up Where gold was never laid; Never came together more The knight and lovely maid.