It was the Count Sir Guncelin, His helm o’er his white neck flung; That sound in the ear of his mother dear Through the dark night-time rung.
The Dame awoke at black midnight, And unto her Lord she cried: “Now deign, now deign, thou highest God, With my son in this fray to bide!”
The first course that together they rode, So strong were the knightly twain, Struck Guncelin Sir Ivor Blue, And stretched him on the plain.
“Now listen, Count Sir Guncelin, If thou’lt but let me live, My young and newly wedded bride, I unto thee will give.”
“I will not take thy wedded bride Upon marriage stands my mind; Give me Salentia, sister thine, And my fate to her’s I’ll bind.”
They rode away to the bridal feast, Withouten more ado; Of stalwart knights, and warrior wights, They invited the best they knew.
They invited Vidrik Verlandson, And Diderik, knight of Bern; They invited Olger the Daneman too, Who in battle is so stern.
They invited Silvard Snarenswayne, Who before the bride should ride; And thither came also Langben the Jutt, To sit at the Bridegroom’s side.
They invited Master Hildebrand, The bridal torch he carried; And he was followed by Kempions twelve, Deep drank they whilst they tarried,
And thither came Folker Spilleman, With his humour the kemps must bear; And thither came King Sigfrid Hoon, To his own pain and care.
Then came the proud Dame Grimhild, To prepare the bride for the hall; With iron she caused her feet to be shod, And her fingers with steel tipped all.
And thither came Dame Gunda Hetta, ’Mid the Norland hills her house; And there doth she pass a right merry life, With dance and with carouse.
Thither came likewise Dame Brynhild, She cut for the bride the meat, Her followed slender ladies seven, ’Midst the knights they took their seat.
They follow’d the bride to the chamber in. Of a luncheon slight to taste; And there she eat four tuns of pottage, Which pleased her palate best.
Then before her sixteen oxen-bodies, And eighteen swine disappear; And before her thirst she could assuage, She drank seven tuns of beer.
So mighty the press of their garments was, As they led the bride to the hall, That they brushed down, ere they ushered her in, Full fifteen ells from the wall.