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Title: Sir Alf The Freebooter
Author: George Borrow [
More Titles by Borrow]
Song the First
Sir Alf he is an Atheling,
Both at Stevn and at Ting. {1}
_Know ye little Alf_?
Alf he builds a vessel stout,
For he will rove and sail about.
Alf he builds a vessel high,
The trade of pirate he will try.
He draws on the sand a circle mark,
And with a bound he gained the bark.
Upon the prow Alf foremost stood,
And Copenhagen’s koggers view’d.
O’er the wide sea he flung a look,
He knew the course the vessels took.
“There koggers nine salute mine eyes,
All, all they bear shall be my prize.”
Alone into a boat he goes,
And briskly to the koggers rows.
“Well met, ye Courtmen, clad in mail
Unto what haven do ye sail?”
“Unto that haven we are bound,
Where Alf is likeliest to be found.”
“What will ye on the man bestow
Who unto ye Sir Alf can show?”
“Silver and gold to him we’ll give,
All he can wish for shall he receive.
Presents of worth he shall not miss,
The robber’s vessel shall be his.”
“And what shall be the pirates’ lot,
If Alf the pirate escape you not?”
“His mariners we’ll hew and slay,
Himself we will in irons lay.”
“Ha! little Alf ye here may see,
Slight victory ye shall win from me!”
“Up, up and board, my gallant crew,
Cable and rope asunder hew!”
Till he was weary Alf he hew’d,
In fifteen Courtmen’s gore he stood.
He captured all the koggers nine,
And sailed for Norway o’er the brine.
To Rostock in the tiding goes,
Then palened many a cheek of rose.
Widow and child lamented sore,
This hurtful hawk had made them poor.
But they must thole this damage all,
Their tears but bootless, bootless fall.
_Know ye little Alf_?
Footnote:
{1} _Stevn_ and _Ting_. Both words signify a tribunal before which litigations were decided.
Song the Second
Sir Alf will not stay in Norroway land,
For he passes his time there wearily;
Full fifteen lordships in fief he holds,
He can live thereout right merrily.
Sir Alf he walks on the verdant wold,
Conning his breviary;
There meets him Bendit Rimaardson,
For God of his sins was weary.
“Good morrow, good day, thou little Sir Alf,
Thou art a valiant noble,
But if thou become the King’s prisoner to-day,
The land will know less trouble.”
“I am not the little Sir Alf,
I vow by the holy Mary;
I am but a little mass-boy, Sir,
To the priest the wine I carry!”
Bendit lifted his high, high hat,
And upon his visage staring,
Said: “Thou art the little Norwegian Alf,
If mine eyes are the truth declaring.
“Thou wast a school boy along with me,
Thou darest not deny it;
And well at the school I remember thee,
Thou gavest us no quiet.”
“If thou be Bendit Rimaardson,
Thou art my near relation;
If to-day thou wilt swear thou knowest me not,
Thou wilt do me an obligation.”
But straight they took the little Sir Alf,
And gyves to his legs they fastened;
And away, away to Helsingborg,
With the captive Alf they hastened.
“Now take little Alf to the chamber high,
To the hall of the regal tower,
That the Queen at her ease, and her maids, if they please.
May behold this thief of power.”
Then up and spake the Danish Queen,
On first little Alf espying:
“The man that I see cannot surely be he,
Whose fame through the world is flying.”
“Though I of stature be little and mean,
I’ve every manly talent,
And ne’er wilt thou bear thy lord an heir,
Half, half so good and gallant.
“I’d give my mantle with roses red,
And lilies flowered over,
If I might sleep one night with thee,
And play the ardent lover.
“If I one night with thee might sleep,
None knowing but thy maid servant,
For then, I ween, thou would’st beg, fair Queen,
For my pardon in accents fervent.”
Then answered him the Danish Queen,
As she struck the board with vigour:
“To-morrow, ere folk to breakfast go,
On a gibbet thou shalt figure!”
“Why hang’st thou not Ivor of Holsterbro,
And Canute of Sonderboro?
They were thieves like me, but they slept with thee,
And their death would have caused thee sorrow.”
Then they took away the little Sir Alf
From the hall of the regal tower;
For the beauteous Queen and her ladies had seen
Enough of this thief of power.
They led the little Count Sir Alf
Out East from Helsing city;
With contrite breast he his sins confess’d,
And to God he cried for pity.
“Now I counsel each noble woman’s son,
He in honour’s courses guide him,
With his equals dwell in the land, for well
With all will that land provide him.
“For many a day and many a year
I’ve plundered, as every one knoweth;
But what we win with injustice and sin
With shame and sorrow goeth.
“A Count was I, of Erling’s race,
O’er Timsberg’s rich fief I lorded;
That filled me with pride, and my will I would have,
Though my will with no law accorded.
“First, first on all who my hate had won
I murders foul committed;
Then to wife and maid no respect I paid,
But shamefully them I treated.
“From the needy citizen his goods
And his life besides I’ve riven;
Widow and orphans my deeds bemoan,
And for vengeance cry to heaven.
“Lord God to me kind and clement be,
And grant me this petition:
Let me gain, when this death of shame I’ve thol’d,
Into endless life admission.”
[The end]
George Borrow's poem: Sir Alf The Freebooter
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