Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

KING HORN, by                    
First Line: I bid ye all be gay / who list to this my lay!
Last Line: "and jesus, heaven's king, / us to like ending bring"


I BID ye all be gay
Who list to this my lay!
A song I now will sing
Of Murry, crowned king;
He reigned in the West
While he with life was blest.
Godhild she hight, his queen,
None fairer e'er was seen.
He had a son hight Horn,
A goodlier ne'er was born
On whom the rain fell light,
On whom the sun shone bright.
None might his fairness pass;
Brighter was he than glass,
White as the lily flower,
Red as the rose in bower;
Nor near nor far on ground
Might one his peer have found.
Twelve were his comrades gay
Who fared with him alway,
Rich men their fathers were
And all were children fair,
Each at his beck and call --
But two he loved o'er all,
The one hight Hathulf Child,
The other Fikenhild;
Hathulf was good, I trow,
Fikenhild, false enow.

E'en as the tale I say
'T was on a summer's day
That Murry, the good king,
Rode forth a-pleasuring,
E'en by the salt sea side
As he was wont to ride;
He found upon the strand,
There, where they came to land,
Of ships, I trow, fifteen,
With Saracens so keen,
And asked what there they sought?
What had them thither brought?

A Paynim heard the king
And thus made answering:
"Thy folk we think to slay
With all to Christ who pray,
Yea, and thyself, this tide:
Think not thou hence shalt ride!"
He sprang from off his steed
For thereto had he need,
(Two knights both good and true
Had he, they were too few;)
They grasp their sword hilts tight,
And all together smite,
By force of sword and shield
They fell their foes on field,
Yet all too few were they
Against their foes that day,
With ease the Paynim might
Hath slain those three in fight.

The Paynims came to land,
They took it in their hand,
The folk they smote and slew,
The churches down they threw,
All were of life forlorn,
Stranger or landsman born,
Save they forsook Christ's lore
And Paynim gods adore.

Saddest of women there
I trow was Godhild fair;
For Murry she wept sore
And for her son yet more,
She fled forth from her hall
And from her maidens all;
Beneath a rock of stone
The queen abode alone,
And there to God she prayed,
(By Paynim law forbade)
To Christ did service true,
(Thereof no Paynim knew)
Ever for Horn would pray,
Christ be his strength and stay.

Horn was in Paynim hands,
He and his folk, and lands;
Full fair was he to see,
Christ wrought him verily.
The Paynims would him slay,
Or would him living flay,
An he less fair had been
All had been slain I ween.
Then spake an Emir old
In words was he full bold:
"Horn, thou art quick and keen,
As may be lightly seen,
Thereto art thou full tall
And fair and strong withal,
Nor shalt thou be full grown
Ere seven years be flown;
An we thy life should spare,
Thine, and thy comrades fair,
Methinks it so might fall
That ye should slay us all.
Therefore shalt thou to sea,
Thou, and thy mates with thee,
A-ship, 'twixt wave and wind,
Thy death thou 'lt surely find;
Thou in the sea shalt sink,
No more of thee we'll think.
But an thou wert on life,
With sword, or e'en with knife,
We at thine hand were sped
For this, thy father, dead!"

The bairns they brought to strand
Wringing for woe their hands,
And set them all aboard
At bidding of their lord.
Horn had been sad, I trow,
Yet ne'er so sad as now!
The tide began to flow,
Horn Child began to row,
So fast o'er wave they sped
The bairns were sore adread,
Full well they deemed, I ween,
Their life had forfeit been.
They drifted day and night
Till dawned the morning light,
And Horn beheld the land
And folk upon the strand;
"My comrades young," quoth he,
"Good news I have for ye,
I hear the sweet birds sing,
I see the green grass spring,
Blithe shall be now our band
For here we be at land!"

The ship a haven found,
They set their foot to ground,
There on the flowing tide
They left their ship to ride.
Then spake aloud Child Horn,
(In Suddene was he born,)
"Ship, on the salt sea flood
Make thou a voyage good,
Ride gaily on the wave
Nor find therein a grave.
If thou to Suddene fare
Greet well my kinsfolk there,
And well I bid thee greet
Godhild my mother sweet.
And bid that Paynim know,
(Of Christ is he the foe)
That I, both hale and sound,
Have safely come to ground,
And say, he yet shall feel
How Horn a blow can deal!"

The children sought the town
By dale and e'en by down;
They met Almair the king,
(Of Christ have he blessing)
King he, of Westerness,
(Christ give him mickle bliss,)
Thus spake he to Horn Child
With courteous speech and mild:
"Whence come ye, children dear,
Who thus have landed here?
I see ye all thirteen
Of body strong and keen,
By God Who made us all
Such chance did ne'er befall
That I so fair a band
Should greet in this my land,
Your errand to me tell!"
Horn knew their speech full well
And answered for them all
Since so it did befall;
(Fairest was he of face,
And dowered with speech of grace:)
"In Suddene were we born,
From noble kinsfolk torn,
Men of true Christian blood,
Of royal race and good.
But Paynims on our shore
Have wrought a slaughter sore,
In pieces did they hew
Full many a Christian true,
As Christ shall give me rede,
Us children did they lead
Unto a ship, and gave
As sport to wind and wave,
Two days hence, without fail;
Rudder had we, nor sail,
Our ship drave with the tide
E'en to this country's side.
Thou can'st us beat, and bind
Our hands our back behind,
Or, an it be thy will,
Can'st bring us out of ill!"
Out spake the good king then,
No niggard he midst men,
"Tell me thy name, fair boy,
Here shalt thou find but joy!"

The child made answer clear
As he those words might hear:
"Horn, it shall be my name,
Hither by boat I came,
Drifted by wave of sea
In good hour unto thee!"
Swift the king's answer came:
"Have joy of this thy name,
Horn, it shall echo shrill
O'er holt, I ween, and hill,
Horn shall ring up and down
Thro' dale and over down,
Thy name and fame shall spring
From knight, I ween, to king,
And this, thy goodliness,
Bring joy to Westerness.
The strength of thy right hand
Be felt thro' every land!
Horn, thou art fair and sweet,
None may thee ill entreat!"
Homeward rode Aylmar there
With him his foundling fair
And all his comrades good
Who to his heart night stood.

The king came to his hall,
And his knights one and all,
His steward he called forthright,
(Athelbrus was he hight:)
"Now steward to thy care
I give my foundling fair,
Teach him thy craft so good,
Of water and of wood;
Teach him the harp to play
With finger deft alway;
To carve in fashion fair;
The wine-cup fitting bear;
To him all craft be shown
That thou hast ever known.
(His comrades otherwise
Bestow in fitting guise,)
Horn shall to thee belong,
Teach him of harp and song."

Athelbrus took in care
Horn, and his comrades fair;
Horn, he held fast in heart
The rede he did impart,
All men the court about
Within, and e'en without,
Bare love unto Horn Child --
But chiefly Rimenild,
The king's own daughter fair,
Such love to Horn she bare,
So fast on him her thought,
The maid was nigh distraught;
For that at royal board
With him she spake no word,
Nor might she in the hall
Among the courtiers all:
Speak could she in no stead,
Since she of folk had dread,
By night and e'en by day,
No word to him durst say.
Sore pain of heart and mind
She bare, nor cure might find.
Thus sad and sorry, she
Bethought her warily,
By messenger straightway
She Athelbrus did pray
To make no tarrying
But Horn Child with him bring
And seek her in her bower --
With guile she wrought that hour --
Yea, and the message said
That sick she lay, the maid,
And bade him come with speed
To comfort her at need.
The steward at heart was woe,
He wist not what to do,
What Rimenild besought
A marvel great he thought,
That Horn, at her bidding,
He to her bower should bring.
He deemed in thoughtful mood,
Such act were scarce for good,
He called to him Horn's peer,
Athulf, his comrade dear.
"Athulf, now come with me
To bower speedily,
For Rimenild, she will
Speak with us, soft and still,
As Horn be thou arrayed,
And thus deceive the maid,
My mind misgives me sore
She hath some guile in store!"
Athulf and Athelbrus
They sought her bower thus,
And Rimenild, the fair,
She deemed that Horn it were;
On her bed must he sit,
She wooed him well, to wit --
Her arms round him she cast,
Athulf she held full fast,
And quoth: "Horn, hearken me,
Great love I bear to thee,
Troth with me shalt thou plight,
Here on my hand forthright,
To hold me as thy wife,
As I thee lord, for life!"

Athulf spake in her ear
Softly, as she might hear:
"Speak thou no more of this,
Horn is not here, I wis,
Unlike we twain shall be,
Fairer and richer he,
Fairer by measure Horn
Than any man yet born,
Tho' he were under mould,
Or wandering far on wold,
Distant full many a mile,
I would not him beguile!"

Then Rimenild, the maid,
Did Athelbrus upbraid;
"Thou traitor, get thee gone,
Mine hatred hast thou won,
Go forth from out my bower,
May ill o'er thee have power!
I would thy shame be sung,
And thou on gallows hung!
This is not Horn, I ween,
More courteous had he been,
And fairer far to see,
A shameful death on thee!"

Athelbrus at that stound
Fell low upon the ground:
"Lady I prithee grace,
Hearken a little space,
Hear why I dare not bring
Horn at thy summoning;
For Horn is rich and fair,
None may with him compare,
And Aylmar, my good king,
Gave him to my keeping;
If Horn were hereabout
I sorely me misdoubt
Since thou of him art fain,
That were betwixt ye twain
Should make my lord wax wroth --
So think I, on my troth --
Rimenild, lady sweet,
Forgive me, as is meet,
And Horn I'll bring to thee
Whate'er the forfeit be!"

Then Rimenild, her speech
A gentler tone would teach,
Her heart waxed glad and gay,
Blithe was the maid that day.
"Then go," she quoth, "right soon,
And send him after noon,
Whenas the king shall rise
And fare in simple wise
With hound and horn to play,
None shall us then betray;
And here till eventide
He may with me abide,
After, for good or ill,
Let folk say what they will!"

The steward went at that stound,
Horn in the hall he found,
On dais sat the king,
Horn did the wine-cup bring; --
"Horn," quoth he, "for my sake
Thy way in secret take
After meat, unafraid,
To Rimenild, the maid,
And words both true and bold
In heart I bid thee hold,
Be thou to me but true
And thou shalt never rue."
Then Horn, to heart he laid
What Athelbrus had said,
He went his way forthright
Unto that maiden bright,
Then kneeling, as was meet,
He proffered greeting sweet,
His fairness in that hour
I wot, made light her bower.
He spake with gracious speech
Such as no man may teach:
"Full soft thou sittest there,
Maid Rimenild, the fair,
Thou, and thy maids twice three
Who sit the nighest thee.
Thy father's steward, I trow,
He sent me here but now,
Since thou would'st speak with me
Say what thy will shall be,
Speak Lady, without fear,
Since I am fain to hear!"

Rimenild bade him stand,
She took him by the hand,
Set him on silken pall
And gave him wine withal.
She made him goodly cheer --
Her arms the maiden dear
Cast round his neck, I wis,
And gave him many a kiss.
"Horn," quoth she, "without strife,
Thou shalt take me to wife,
Have of my sorrow ruth,
Plight me thy troth in truth!"

Horn thought him well that day
What it were best to say:
"Christ be thy Help in this,
And give thee mickle bliss
Of him who wins thy hand
Where'er he be on land.
But I be born too low
Such maid as wife to know --
For I am come of thrall,
A foundling too withal,
It were not fit for thee
To wed thyself with me.
'T is no fit match, I ween,
For thrall to mate with queen!"

Then Rimenild, the maid,
She sighed, full sore dismayed,
Her arms she loosed full soon,
Adown she sank in swoon.

Horn was to comfort fain,
He raised her up again
Within his arms, I wis,
And gave her many a kiss.
He quoth: "My Lady dear,
Now take thou courage here,
Help me that I be knight --
Pray thou, with all thy might,
My lord the king so free
Knighthood to grant to me.
For then, when my thralldom
Hath once knighthood become,
Honour shall wax the more
And I may do thy lore!"

Then Rimenild eftsoon
She wakened from her swoon:
"Horn," quoth the maid, "thy rede
It shall be done with speed,
The king shall dub thee knight
Within this seven-night.
This cup I bid thee bring,
And with it, too, this ring,
To Athelbrus the bold,
Covenant bid him hold;
Tell him that I beseech
In fit and courteous speech,
That he shall lowly fall
Before the king in hall,
And pray that thou, forthright,
Of him be made a knight;
Silver, I ween, and gold,
Be his in payment told,
Christ speed him well, I pray,
My bidding to obey."

Then Horn must take his leave,
The day it waxed to eve;
Athelbrus straight he sought,
And gave him what he brought,
The truth he told him there,
How he in bower did fare,
And told him all his need,
Proffering goodly meed.

The steward, with no delay,
To hall he made his way,
"Lord King, now hearken me,
Good rede I bring to thee:
Thou shalt bear royal crown
To-morrow in this town,
To-morrow is high-day,
When men must needs be gay,
Methinks 't were well the morn
If thou should'st knight Child Horn,
If arms he bear for thee
Good knight he'll surely be!"
The king, he quoth anon:
"Methinks that were well done,
Of Horn 't is sooth to tell
Knighthood became him well,
That shall he have from me --
My darling shall he be --
And they, his goodly band
Of comrades, at his hand
Shall knighted be forthright
Before me, that same night."

Athelbrus deemed alway
'T were long till dawn of day,
When night at last was sped
Horn to the king he led,
With comrades twelve, I trow
Evil were some enow!
There Horn he was dubbed knight
With sword and spurs so bright,
On milk-white steed so fair,
None might with him compare.
The king, a blow so light
Dealt, bidding him be knight.

Before King Aylmar free
Athulf, he bent his knee,
And quoth: "O! King, so brave,
A boon from thee I crave.
Now hast thou knighted Horn
Who in Suddene was born,
Lord is he of that land
O'er us who by him stand.
Thine arms hath he, and shield,
To fight for thee on field,
Now bid him make us knight
For that is sure our right."
Then Aylmar straightway spake:
"Thy will I bid thee take."
Forthwith did Horn alight,
He dubbed his comrades knight.
Merry the feast and gay,
Mirthful their jest and play.
But Rimenild, in her bower,
Seven years she deemed the hour;
A word to Horn she sent,
He to her presence went,
But not alone he sped,
Athulf with him he led.
Rimenild waiting stood,
His coming she deemed good;
"Sir Horn, art welcome here
With Athulf, knight so dear,
Sir Knight, 't is fit and meet
By me to take thy seat,
Do that whereof we spake
Me for thy true wife take,
If thou in deeds be true
Yield me what is my due,
Thou hast what thou didst crave,
Me from my sorrow save."

"Maiden," quoth Horn, "be still,
I promise thee thy will,
But thus it must betide
With spear I first must ride,
And thus my knighthood prove
Ere yet I think of love.
As knights we be but young --
But since this day were sprung --
And ever of knighthood
This is the custom good,
Each, with some other knight,
Must for his lady fight
Or yet a wife he take --
Thus speed I needs must make --
With Christ's good aid, straightway,
Prowess I'll shew to-day
For thy love, in the field,
With spear and eke with shield;
If I come forth with life
Thee will I take to wife."

Quoth she: "Sir Knight, i-sooth
I think thou speakest truth;
Take thou this golden ring,
Fair is its fashioning,
Graven upon the gold
My name shalt thou behold;
Far as the sun shall shine
Is none so fair and fine;
This for my love now wear,
Upon thy finger bear,
The stones, they have such grace,
That ne'er in any place
Of dints shalt thou have dread,
Tho' ne'er so sore bestead,
If thou in battle see
This ring and think of me.
Sir Athulf, too, thy brother,
I'll give to him another,
And Horn, I here beseech
In love, with gentle speech,
Christ give thee furthering
And back in safety bring."

The knight he kissed the maid,
Blessing on him she prayed,
He took leave at the same
And to the hall he came.
The knights, they went to meat,
Horn sped with footsteps fleet,
In stable sought his foal,
(Black was he, e'en as coal,)
His byrnie shook amain,
The court, it rang again,
The steed, it gave a spring,
Merrily Horn 'gan sing --
The twain in little while
Had ridden o'er a mile.
A ship he found on strand,
By Paynims was it manned,
He asked them what they sought,
What had them hither brought?
One did Sir Horn behold
Who spake in words so bold:
"This land we think to win
And slay the folk therein."
Horn gripped his sword with power,
And wiped it clean that hour;
The Saracen, I wot,
He smote, his blood was hot,
Methinks at every blow
A Paynim head fell low.
The heathen hounds came on,
Horn, he was all alone,
His glance the gold ring sought,
On Rimenild he thought,
He slew there in that press
One hundred men, no less,
The tale might no man tell
Of those who 'fore him fell,
They who were left alive
I trow might little thrive.

Horn took the chieftain's head,
In sooth a trophy dread,
High on his sword point bright
'T was set, a grisley sight!
He fared him home to hall
Among the knights withal;
"Well dost thou sit, and free,
King, and thy knights with thee!
To-day didst dub me knight,
I gat me hence forthright,
A ship did hither row,
E'en as the flood did flow,
Filled with a Paynim band
Men of another land,
Full well they thought to-day
Thee and thy folk to slay.
With force did they assail,
My sword it did not fail,
Some, have I felled to ground,
Some, deathly wounds have found,
The head I hither bring
Of one, their chief and king,
Now is thy guerdon paid
Lord, who me knight hast made!"

Next morn, as day might spring,
A-hunting rode the king,
Fikenild stayed behind,
(Worst son of woman-kind,)
He sought the maidens' bower
For venture, in that hour.
He saw fair Rimenild
As one with sorrow filled;
She sat there in the sun,
Swiftly her tears did run --
Horn quoth: "Sweet love, give o'er,
Why weepest thou so sore?"
She spake: "I needs must weep,
E'en as I lay asleep
My net in sea I cast,
And, ere long time had past,
I caught a fish full fair --
But thro' my net he tare --
Methinks that I shall lose
The prize my heart would choose!"
Quoth Horn: "By Christ I deem
Right foolish is thy dream,
Ne'er will I thee betray
But do thy will alway,
I give myself to thee
In steadfast fealty,
As all may know forthright --
Thereto my troth I plight!"
I wot with mickle ruth
They sware that pledge of truth.
Rimenild wept alway
Tho' Horn her tears would stay;
He quoth: "My Lady dear,
Further I bid thee hear;
God shall thy dream fulfil
Or some man means us ill;
The fish that brake the net
I wis, may harm us yet;
An it mean ill, I ween,
That shall be swiftly seen."

Aylmar a-hunting rode,
Horn in the bower abode,
Ill words spake Fikenild,
His heart with envy filled --
"Aylmar I would thee warn,
Now be thou ware of Horn,
I heard the words he said;
He drew his good sword blade
And sware to take thy life
And win thy child to wife.
By Rimenild in bower
He lieth in this hour,
'Neath covering fair and soft,
And so he doth full oft.
Now hie thee there forthright
And thou shalt see with sight,
Bid him get hence straightway
Else will he thee betray!"

Aylmar, he turned him then,
(Saddest was he of men)
Horn he found, taking rest
On his fair daughter's breast;
He cried: "Foul thief, away!
Forfeit my love for aye,
Get thee hence speedily,
Ill fortune go with thee,
Haste thee, or by my word,
I'll smite thee with my sword;
Save that my land thou flee
Shame shall thy portion be!"
Horn saddled his good steed,
His arms he sought with speed,
His byrnie swiftly laced,
His harness fitly placed,
His sword he girt straightway
Nor longer thought to stay.
Blithely he sought that tide
Fair Rimenild, his bride;
He quoth: "Darling, I deem
Thou findest here thy dream,
The fish that thy net rent
Thy love from thee hath sent.
Rimenild, fare thee well,
No longer here I dwell,
To stranger lands straightway
Needs must I make my way;
There shall my lot be cast
Till seven long years be past,
And at the seven years' end,
If I come not, nor send,
A husband may'st thou take
Nor tarry for my sake.
Now hold me close and fast
For one long kiss, our last!"

She kissed him in that stound,
Then, swooning, fell to ground --
Child Horn, he went his way,
No longer might he stay;
Athulf, his comrade fair,
He clasped, and kissed him there:
"With true knight's fealty
Guard thou my love for me,
Faith hast thou aye fulfilled,
Now keep well Rimenild!"

His steed he would bestride,
From thence he fain would ride,
To haven did he fare,
A ship he hired him there,
That should from out this land
Bear him to Western strand.
Fast Athulf's tears down fall,
Sore weep the people all --
Horn safe in haven rode,
His steed forthwith bestrode;
Two knights upon his way
He found, king's sons were they,
Harold, was named one brother,
And Berold hight the other.
Berold, he prayed straightway
That he his name would say,
Whither he thought to fare,
And what had brought him there?
"Cuthbert," he quoth, "my name,
Hither by boat I came,
In West-land to fulfil
My fate, for good or ill."
Berold drew nigh, full fain,
He took his bridle rein,
"Knight, thou shalt welcome be,
A while abide with me,
For by my life, I swear
The king's badge shalt thou wear,
So fair a knight before
Ne'er came unto this shore."
Cuthbert he led to hall --
The knight on knee did fall
Greeting he gave, kneeling,
Unto the noble king:
Quoth Berold, the king's son:
"Sire, here a prize hast won,
Set him to guard thy land --
Thou wrongest no man's hand,
For 't is the fairest knight
That on our shores did light."
Then quoth the king so dear:
"Knight, thou art welcome here;
Berold, go thou straightway
And make him blithe and gay,
But wouldst thou wooing go
Then send him from thee fro',
Hadst thou a mind to wive
Away he should thee drive!
For such his beauty's meed
That thou shouldst never speed."
The Yuletide feast, at last
Had come, nor yet was past,
But, e'en as 't was high noon,
There came a giant full soon
All armed in Paynim guise
And spake upon this wise:
"Now bide thee still, Sir King,
And hear the news I bring:
Paynims be come to shore
Full five, I wot, and more,
They stay them on the strand,
Sir King, in this thy land.
One of them fain would fight
Against a three-fold might --
If one by three be slain
Take thou thy land again,
But if one vanquish three
This kingdom ours shall be --
To-morrow will we fight
E'en as day conquers night."
Out quoth the King Thurston:
"Cuthbert, thou shalt be one,
Berold shall be the other,
The third Harold, his brother,
For of my knights ye three
The best in arms shall be.
But little boots this rede
Since death shall be our meed!"
Then Cuthbert, at the board,
He spake a valiant word:
"Sir King, it were not right
For one with three to fight,
That 'gainst one Paynim hound
Three Christian men be found.
Sire, all alone, would I
My fate against him try,
Full lightly shall my sword
Death's portion him award."

The king rose on the morrow,
Mickle, I ween, his sorrow;
Cuthbert must needs awake,
His arms he thought to take,
Child Horn his byrnie cast
Upon him, laced full fast,
Swift to the king he sped
E'en as he rose from bed,
He quoth: "King, seek the field,
See how, with sword and shield,
Together we shall fight
And test each other's might."
Right as it were prime tide
Forth from the town they ride,
And found upon the green
A giant, cool and keen;
His comrades at his side,
Ready their blow to bide.
The giant, without fail,
Cuthbert he did assail,
Their dints they dealt full well,
Many a-swooning fell;
The giant to rest was fain
For he well nigh slain --
He quoth: "Knight, bide thee still
Awhile, an so ye will, --"
He quoth, that blows so sore
He ne'er had felt before
Save once from Murry's hand
Who reigned in Suddene land;
Kinsman was he to Horn
Who was in Suddene born.
Horn waxed wroth at the word,
His blood within him stirred,
He saw before him stand
The folk who took his land,
They, who his father slew,
'Gainst them his sword he drew.
The ring his eyes have sought,
On Rimenild he thought,
She smote him to the heart
That must full sorely smart:
His foes, once keen for fight,
Before him turn to flight,
Horn, and his company,
They follow speedily,
They slew the Paynim hounds
Ere they their ships had found,
In death they low were laid,
His sire's blood well they paid.
But of King Thurston's knights
Not one escaped that fight,
Not the king's son -- the twain
Before his eyes were slain.
The king, he wept withal,
Fast did his tears down fall,
A bier they fashioned there,
The bodies homeward bare;
The king, in hall he stood
Amid his knights so good,
And quoth: "Horn, hearken me,
Do as I say to thee,
Slain are my sons in fight,
And thou art valorous knight,
Of body fair and tall
And strong of hand withal,
Have thou my lands for life,
And take to thee for wife
Reynild, my daughter fair,
Who sitteth throned there."
"Nay, nay, my Sire, 't were ill
Did I such wish fulfil,
Thy daughter and thy land
To take unto mine hand,
Such service, verily,
I'll yield thee ere thou die
Thy sorrow shall be sped
Ere seven years' term be fled.
When grief be passed away
Then, Sire, give me my pay;
When I reward have won
Then take me for thy son!"

For seven years long, I ween,
Cuthbert, he there hath been,
Nor Rimenild sweet, he sought,
Nor word to her was brought.
She dwelt in Westerness
In grief and heaviness;
A king, he sought that land,
Who prayed the maiden's hand,
Her father gave consent --
The twain, on marriage bent,
But short shrift gave the maid,
Rimenild, sore dismayed,
Their will dare not gainsay --
Message she sent straightway,
Athulf the words did write,
He loved well Horn the knight,
And bade him who should bear
The script, with speed to fare
Thro' every land and shore
Till Horn he stood before.
Of this Child Horn knew naught,
Until one day he sought
The wood, in search of game --
A lad towards him came;
Horn spake: "My comrade good,
What seek'st thou in this wood?"
"Knight, an it be thy will
I'll tell thee loud and still,
From West I seek, in stress,
Child Horn, of Westerness,
For maiden Rimenild
Who is with sorrow filled;
A king that maid will wed,
And bring her to his bed,
Mody of Reynes, he,
Who was Horn's enemy.
I've wandered far and wide
By land and waterside,
And found him not alway.
Alas, woe worth the day!
Alas, woe worth the maid!
Now is she sore betrayed."

Horn hearkened with his ears,
And spake with bitter tears:
"Good fortune thee betide,
Horn standeth at thy side;
Back to thy lady go,
And bid her cease her woe
For I shall come in time
Ere Sunday wax to prime."
The lad was glad and gay,
He hied him on his way;
The wind waxed high withal --
Beneath her castle wall
The lad lay drowned on shore;
(The maid repented sore.)
Maid Rimenild that tide
Her door she opened wide
To gaze with longing eye
If Horn perchance be nigh.
Of life she found him spent
Whom she for Horn had sent,
Hither her love to bring --
Her hands she 'gan to wring.
Now Horn had Thurston sought,
To him his tidings brought,
By what name he was known,
How Rimenild was his own,
And of his kinship fair
Who rule in Suddene bare --
How those he slew in strife
Had ta'en his father's life --
And quoth "Now, good my Lord,
I pray of thee reward,
Help me, nor spare thy pain,
To win my love again.
Thy daughter shall espouse
One of a goodly house,
For husband shall she have
Athulf, my comrade brave,
The best of knights is he,
And truest, verily!"
The king quoth loud and still,
"Child Horn, have now thy will."
He sent by his command
Writing to Ireland's strand
To summon many a knight
Irishmen, good at fight,
Enow had Horn of men --
To ship they gat them then,
Horn set forth ere 't was long
On galley stout and strong,
The wind blew fresh and free
Ere they were long at sea,
The waves with storm and stress
Bare them to Westerness;
They hauled down sail and mast
And anchored them full fast.
But ere the dawn of day
The bells rang glad and gay,
And word to them was borne
'T was e'en the wedding morn.
Horn did thro' water wade
Nor closer landing made,
His ship lay off the strand,
He gat him to the land
And bade his folk abide
Hidden, the wood beside.
He gat him forth alone
O'er stock, and over stone,
A palmer did he meet
And forthwith courteous greet:
"Good Palmer, without fail
Now tell me here thy tale."
Then quoth the palmer keen:
"A bridal have I seen,
The bride, that lady bright,
Maid Rimenild was hight,
Her weird she might not dree
But wept right bitterly,
And vowed full steadfastly
Wedded she would not be --
A lord had she alway
Tho' he were far away.
There, by the fortress hall,
Within the castle wall,
Vainly I needs must wait,
I might not pass the gate;
At Mody's word, that tide,
To burg they led the bride --
I turned me on my way,
Small heart had I to stay,
The bride, she weepeth sore,
And that be sorry lore!"
Quoth Horn: "So Christ me rede
We two will change our weed,
My habit hast thou here,
Give me thy palmer's gear;
A draught I'll drink to-day
That some shall dearly pay!"
His staff he laid aside,
And doffed his robe that tide,
Horn's clothes he took straightway,
Nor loth was he that day!
The staff and scrip took Horn,
And made a face forlorn,
Twisted his mouth awry,
And blacked him swarthily,
Uncomely was he then
And strange to all men's ken.
The warden of the gate
Made answer stern and straight,
Horn prayed him, once and oft,
To ope, in accents soft,
But nothing might he win
Nor come a step within.
Then Horn no more would wait
He forced the wicket gate,
The guard o'er bridge he threw,
Horn's coming must he rue!
His ribs he brake withal.
Horn gat him to the hall
And sat him, still and low,
Down in the beggars' row.
He cast around his eyes,
Safe in his foul disguise,
There sat maid Rimenild,
Distraught, with sorrow filled,
Full sore she wept alway,
No man her tears might stay.
Each corner did he spy
But might not see with eye
Athulf, his comrade true --
That he his presence knew.
Athulf, I ween, that hour
Had gat him to the tower
To see if Horn, the brave,
Came sailing o'er the wave;
He saw on every side
Naught but the salt sea tide,
And thus he made his song:
"Horn, thou dost tarry long;
Thou gav'st thy love so fair
Unto my faithful care,
Loyal have I been ever --
Come now, or come thou never!
My charge I may not keep
Longer, so must I weep."

Then rose fair Rimenild --
The cup must needs be filled
When meat was done, in hall,
With wine and ale withal.
One horn she bare in hand
(As meet in this her land),
And knight and squire they quaffed
Therefrom of beer a draught.
All drank save Horn alone,
Thereof would he have none.
Horn sat upon the ground
As he in thought were bound,
And spake: "Queen, graciously,
I pray thee turn to me
And serve us with the first,
We beggars be athirst."
Then turned fair Rimenild
And to the brim she filled
His bowl, a gallon fair,
Glutton she deemed him there:
She quoth "Now take this cup
And swiftly drink it up,
Ne'er saw I, so I ween,
Beggar for drink so keen."
Horn to his comrades bare,
And quoth: "My queen so fair
Wine pleaseth not my sight
Save that the cup be white;
Beggar am I to see,
Fisherman, verily,
I came from the far East
To fish, at this thy feast,
My net lies here at hand
Upon a full fair strand;
I ween it hath lain here
For now full seven year.
Now am I come to see
What fish therein may be,
Here have I come to fish --
Now drink from this my dish,
And quaff a horn to Horn --
From far I fare this morn."

She gazed, fair Rimenild,
Her heart within her chilled,
His word she read not right,
She knew not Horn with sight,
Right strange she needs must think
His prayer, to Horn to drink.
She poured of wine a draught
And to the pilgrim quaffed,
And said: "Now drink thy fill
And tell me, soft and still,
If thou hast seen with sight
Child Horn, that goodly knight?"
The wine, Horn drank it up,
His ring dropped in the cup --
The queen, she sought her bower
With maidens four that hour,
She found there what she sought,
The ring of red gold wrought
That once she gave to Horn --
Heavy her heart that morn,
For sore she feared the ring
Of death were tokening.

The palmer, in that hour,
She bade unto her bower,
And spake: "Palmer, I know
The ring that thou didst throw;
Say now, who gave it thee,
And why art come to me?"
He quoth: "Now, by Saint Giles,
I've wandered many a mile,
Far hence, unto the West,
I ween hath been my quest;
And there Child Horn I found,
On ship-board was he bound,
He said thro' storm and stress
He must to Westerness;
Upon the salt sea flood
I sailed with Horn the good,
But he fell sick and died,
And, dying, on me cried:
'This ring fail not to bear
To Rimenild the fair.'
Oft-times the ring he'ld kiss --
God bring his soul to bliss."

Then out the maiden spake:
"My heart, now must thou break
For thou shalt see no more
Him thou hast mourned so sore."
On her couch fell the maid --
There had she hid a blade
Wherewith, methinks, the twain
Mody and she, were slain
Before the morning light
If Horn came not ere night.
The point to heart she set,
But Horn her deed would let,
He wiped his face from stain,
Quoth: "Sweet, now look again,
I am Child Horn, I trow,
Dost thou not know me now?
In thine arms hold me fast
For Horn is come at last."
The twain they clasp and kiss
With joy and mickle bliss,
He quoth: "Now love, I wend
Down to the woodland's end,
There have I many a knight
Ready, and armed for fight;
Armed are they under cloth
This folk we'll make full wroth,
Yea, all they whom the king
Did to his feasting bring,
I'll teach to them such lore
As they shall rue full sore."

Horn hasted from the hall,
His palmer's weed let fall;
The queen went from her bower
To Athulf in his tower,
"Athulf," she quoth "be gay,
Go seek thou Horn straightway,
Beneath the woodland bough
There hath he knights enow."
Athulf, he made good speed,
Such news were joyful rede,
Horn did he follow there
Swift as his steed might fare,
He did him overtake,
Much bliss the twain did make.
Horn hearkened to his prayer
And bid him with him fare,
Full soon they came to hall,
The gates were open all,
His men were, in that stead,
Well armed, from foot to head,
All whom he found he slew
Save his twelve comrades true
And Aylmar, the land's king --
To death he did them bring,
The wedding guests were left
Each one, of life bereft.
But Horn no vengeance wrung
From Fikenhild's false tongue.
Then all they sware an oath
That never, on their troth,
Would they Child Horn betray
Tho' he on death-bed lay.

Forthwith the bells were rung,
The wedding Mass was sung,
Horn went his way withal
To Aylmar's palace hall,
Bread was there and sweet ale,
Nor of rich guests did fail;
And none might tell with tongue
What gladsome songs were sung.
Horn sat high on his chair
And bade them hearken there:
"King, listen now to me,
A tale I tell to thee,
I say it not for blame:
Child Horn shall be my name,
Thou madest me a knight
Proven am I in fight.
But men in secret said
That I had thee betrayed;
Forthwith from out this land
I fled, at thy command,
Thou deemest that I wrought
What ne'er was in my thought,
By Rimenild did lie --
That do I here deny;
Nor will I so, I ween,
Till I have won Suddene.
I'll trust her to thy care
The while I hence shall fare
Into mine heritage
And to my baronage;
My land I'll win again,
Avenge my father slain,
Rule as a king in town
And wear the royal crown,
Then Rimenild my bride
She shall lie at my side."

Horn sought his ship forthright,
With him each Irish knight;
Athulf he took, his brother,
And saving him, none other.
Forward the ship did sail
Nor favouring wind did fail,
And ere five days were o'er
They came to Suddene's shore.
Then, even at midnight,
Horn went his way forthright,
Took Athulf by the hand,
And gat him there to land.
He found, beneath his shield,
A knight full famed in field,
Right there, beside the way,
That knight in slumber lay.
Child Horn his arm did take
And quoth: "Sir Knight, awake,
And say, a watch dost keep?
Or wherefore here dost sleep?
A shining cross dost bear,
Christ's arms, methinks, dost wear;
Save that thou shew the way
I shall thee straightway slay!"
Uprose that knight so brave,
Answer to Horn he gave:
He quoth: "Against my will
I serve these Paynims still,
Christian was I erst-while --
Then came I to this isle,
And the black Paynims there
Made me my faith forswear;
In Christ would I believe --
Here have they made me reeve,
This way 'gainst Horn to hold
Now waxed to manhood bold;
Eastward his home shall be --
A valiant knight is he,
He slew with his right hand
The ruler of this land,
With many a hundred men --
Right strange I deem it then
He comes not here to fight;
God help him to his right
And give him favouring wind
That these their death may find.
Murry the king they slew
Who was Horn's father true,
And Horn adrift they sent.
Twelve comrades with him went,
Athulf, I trow, was one,
Mine own child he, my son,
If Horn were whole and sound,
And Athulf safe on ground,
(He loved him well, I ween,
And sure hath faithful been,)
And I might see with eye
The twain, for joy I'ld die."

"Knight be thou joyful then
And blithe above all men,
Athulf, and Horn, I trow
They stand before thee now!"
To Horn he gat him there
And gave him greeting fair,
Much joy they make that tide
While they together bide.
"How fared ye, children, tell?
That ye be come 't is well,
Think ye this land to win
And slay the folk therein?"
He quoth: "Now Child Horn, hear,
Godhild, thy mother dear,
Yet lives, she well might speed
Knew she this joyful rede."
Child Horn, he quoth straightway:
"Now blessed be the day
I came unto Suddenne
With these, my Irish men;
These Paynim hounds we'll teach
To speak in this our speech,
The folk we swift shalt slay
And living, will them flay."
Child Horn his horn loud blew,
His men the summons knew,
On shore they gat them there
Beneath Horn's banner fair,
They fight and e'en they slay
Till night had waxed to day,
Till of that Paynim kin
No man was left therein.
Horn bade the folk straightway
In church and chapel pray,
The bells he bade them ring
And many a Mass to sing,
He sought his mother's bower
In rock-hewn cave that hour,
Corn for the feast bid bear
And all make merry there,
With gladness there he wrought --
Which Rimenild dear bought.

Now Fikenhild, at heart,
Sore for his shame must smart,
He gave, to young and old,
Gifts, that with him they hold,
Great stones together brought
(Thus for his profit wrought)
A castle strong he made,
The sea around it played,
That none might there alight
Save with the sea-bird's flight;
But when the tide was low
Then men the way might know.
He set him, Fikenhild,
To woo fair Rimenild,
The king, her sire, that day
He durst not say him nay,
The maid was sad of mood,
She wept with tears of blood.
That night Horn restless lay
And dreamed sad dreams alway,
That on a ship that tide
Men bare his maiden bride;
The ship, it sank adown,
And she was like to drown,
Then as, with upraised hand,
She won her way to land,
With sword-hilt, Fikenhild,
He thrust down Rimenild.
Horn, he awakened there
As one in sudden fear;
"Athulf, make no delay,
To ship we must straightway,
Fikenhild, ill hath wrought,
My love to sorrow brought;
Christ, by Thy Five Wounds' Might,
Bring me to her to-night!"
Thus Horn to ship would ride,
His comrades at his side.
Fikenhild, as day did spring,
Betook him to the king,
Rimenild, fair and bright,
He thought to wed ere night.
Before the dawning hour
He led her to his tower.
The feast they had begun
Ere yet uprose the sun;
Horn knew it not alway,
But, with the dawning day
His ship stood neath the tower
Before his lady's bower.
(The maid, small hope had she,
That Horn alive should be --)
Strange to their eyes, and new,
The castle no man knew;
Of Athulf's kin a knight,
Arnoldin was he hight,
They found, who at that tide
Horn's coming would abide;
He quoth "King's son, Child Horn,
Welcome be thou this morn,
To-day false Fikenhild
Doth wed with Rimenild,
No lie I speak, i-troth,
He hath beguiled ye both.
This tower he bade them make
Even as for thy sake,
Enter I ween, none can,
By any wile of man,
An Christ aid not, Child Horn,
Of love art thou forlorn."

Now Horn knew every wile
Wherewith man may beguile,
His harp he took in hand
With certain of his band,
Good knights who, at his will,
Clothed them as harpers still.
They gat them o'er the sand
Towards the tower on strand,
Gaily the harpers sang,
Joyful their music rang,
Rimenild hearkened there
And questioned who they were?
They said "The harp we play,
The viol and lute alway."
Without they need not wait,
Men oped the castle gate,
Set Horn on bench straightway,
His harp they bade him play.
A lay, the bride before,
He harped, she mourned full sore,
Swooning she fell awhile
Never a guest did smile,
It smote Horn to the heart,
Right bitter was love's smart;
His glance the ring hath sought,
On Rimenild he thought,
Bared was his goodly sword,
He strode up to the board,
Fikenhild fell adown,
Cloven the traitor's crown,
His knights who sat a-row
To ground they swiftly throw,
Slain were they all forthright,
And drawn that traitor knight.
Where Aylmar rule did bear
Arnoldin crown shall wear
And rule o'er Westerness
For this, his faithfulness;
The king, and all his men,
They sware him fealty then.

Horn took his bride by hand
And led her to the strand,
And with her Athelbrus,
The steward of his house.
The tide full fast did flow,
Horn Child began to row,
He came unto the shore
Where Mody ruled of yore,
Athelbrus made he king
For his good fostering,
Mercy he shewed that day
As knighthood's fitting pay.
Horn o'er the waves did ride
Blown o'er the waters wide,
He came to Irish ground
Where he had shelter found,
Athulf he wedded there
To Reynild, maiden fair.
Thence fared he to Suddene
Amidst his kinsmen keen,
There crowned his maiden bride,
And set her at his side.
The folk, they loved them true,
Their death they needs must rue --
Now are they dead indeed,
Christ give their souls good speed.
Here ends the tale of Horn,
Fair knight, to honour born;
Glad may we be, I wis,
That thus he won to bliss;
And Jesus, Heaven's King,
Us to like ending bring.





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