’Twere better that this maid had died
Within her mother’s womb,
Than that these princely men through her
To such an end should come.
Now will I rede, each honest man
Well to deliberate ever;
Unequalled woman’s cunning is,
Though guiles of men be clever.
She laughs when ’tis her wish to laugh,
And weeps when she will weep;
Whene’er she wants thy heart to move
Fair words on thee she’ll heap.
Be she sick, or be she well,
In woman ne’er confide;
In murder red, by woman led,
His hands Sir Nielus dyed.
KING VALDEMAR AND HIS SISTER
See, see, with Queen Sophy sits Valdemar bold.
About little Kirsten much parlance they hold.
“Now hark, my good Lord! I have this to propose,
That thou shalt give Kirsten to Buris for spouse.
A sister thou hast, I a brave brother own,
A wedding we’ll have ere this good year be flown.”
“It never shall happen, as long as I live,
That I to a horse-thief my sister will give.
My sister’s a princess so fair and so bright,
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