He fain would arrive at his lov'd one's abode;

His harness was clanking, his helm glitter'd sheen,
His horse was so swift, and himself was so keen:

He reach'd the proud castle, and jump'd on the ground,
His horse to the branch of a linden he bound;

He shoulder'd his mantle of grey otter skin,
And through the wide door, to Sir Erik went in.

"Here sitt'st thou, Sir Erik, in scarlet array'd;
I've wedded thy daughter, the beautiful maid."

"And who art thou, Rider? what feat hast thou done?
No nidering coward shall e'er be my son."

"O far have I wander'd, renown'd is my name,
The heroes I conquer'd wherever I came:

"Han Elland, 't is true, long disputed the ground,
But yet he receiv'd from my hand his death-wound."

Sir Erik then alter'd his countenance quite,
And out hurried he, in the gloom of the night.

"Fill high, little Kirstin, my best drinking cup,
And be the brown liquor with poison mixt up."

She gave him the draught, and returning with speed,