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Title: Ellen Of Villenskov
Author: George Borrow [
More Titles by Borrow]
There lies a wold in Vester Haf,
There builds a boor his hold;
And thither he carries hawk and hound,
He'll stay through winter's cold.
He takes with him both hound and cock,
He means there long to stay;
The wild deer in the wood that are
For his arrival pay.
He hews the oak and poplar tall,
He fells the good beech tree;
Then fill'd was the laidly Trold with spite
That he should make so free.
He hews him posts, he hews him balks,
He early toils and late;
Out spake the Trolds within the hill:
"Who knocks at such a rate?"
Then up and spake the youngest Trold,
As emmet small to view:
"O here is come a Christian man,
But verily he shall rue."
Upstood the smallest of the Trolds,
And round he roll'd his eyes:
"O we will hie to the yeoman's house,
And o'er him hold assize.
"He hews away our sheltering wood,
Meanwhile shall we be tame?
No! I from him his wife will take,
And make him suffer shame."
All the Trolds in the hill that were
Wild for the fray upbound;
They hie away to the yeoman's house,
Their tails all curling round.
Seven and a hundred were the Trolds,
Their laidliness was great;
To the yeoman's house they'll go as guests,
With him to drink and eat.
The hound is yelling in the yard,
The herdsman blows his horn;
Crows the cock and clucks the hen
As the yeoman throws them corn.
Of Villenskov the yeoman saw
The Trolds the window through:
"Now help me Jesu, Mary's son,
Those trolds have me in view."
He sign'd the cross in every nook,
But mostly in his room;
Some of the Trolds in fright thereat
Flew to the forest's gloom.
Some flew east, and some flew west,
And some flew north away;
And others flew to the valleys deep,
Where still, I trow, they stay.
But ah! the smallest of the Trolds
Bold enter'd at the door;
For crossing he refus'd to flee,
Was bent on mischief sore.
The housewife thought of a good device,
She plac'd him at the board,
And before him set both ale and meat,
With many a courteous word.
"Hear, husbandman of Villenskov,
Attend to what I say;
Who has to thee permission given
To build where I have sway?
"Since thou to build within my bounds
Hast ta'en the liberty,
Thou shalt to me thy housewife give,
For I with her will lie."
Then answer made the hapless man,
As God gave him the thought:
"Thou shalt not Ellen get from me,
Like her I value nought."
He answer made unto the Trold:
"Let but my wife alone,
And do thou take my money and goods,
And keep them for thy own."
"Then I will Ellen take, and thee,
And tread ye both to gore;
And I will take thy silver and gold
And hide it 'neath my floor."
The yeoman and his household all
Were seized with mighty fright:
"Better that one of us be lost
Than all destroy'd outright."
Then up and stood the desp'rate man,
With sore affliction rife;
And he has given his Ellen dear
To the young Trold for wife.
Then wax'd he glad, and sprang about,
So fondly her he pressed;
O then how pale her cheeks became,
She was so sore distrest!
Then out and spake the afflicted Dame
Whilst shedding many a tear:
"O God in mercy look on me,
My fate is hard to bear.
"I did possess as fair a man
As ever walk'd-on mead,
But now perforce with laidly Trold
Must do adulterous deed."
He kiss'd her once, he kiss'd her twice,
Her heart yet sadder grew;
The laidliest Devil he became
That man did ever view.
When the third time he her would kiss
She call'd on Mary's son;
Then he became a lovely knight,
His elfin shape was gone.
It happen'd neath a linden green
He was from woe releas'd;
Then straightway fled all fear and dread,
So well they all were pleas'd.
"Hear, thou beloved Ellenlile,
Consent my wife to be,
And all the gold in England's isle
I will bestow on thee.
"When I was little, Death from me
My mother took away;
My step-dame drove me forth, and I
Became a Trold so gray.
"I'll give thy husband gifts of price
And titles fair beside;
In verity, thou yeoman's dame,
Thou wilt become my bride."
"Thou noble knight, we'll thank the Lord
From woe who set us free,
If thou wilt wed some fair young maid
You both may live in glee."
"If thee I can't in marriage get
I'll have thy daughter bright,
And all thy benefits to me
By crowning her requite.
"Thanks, Ellen, thanks, thou woman wise,
To praise thee I'll not cease;
If I may not thy love obtain
I'll leave thee here in peace."
Now builds the yeoman on his isle,
And no one him offends;
His daughter bears old England's crown,
And happy days she spends.
Now Ellen has, the yeoman's wife,
Escap'd from care and harm;
She's mother to a Queen, who sleeps
Within a Monarch's arm.
Who bore him first a daughter fine,
And then a blooming heir;
They thank'd the Lord on every side
For all their fortune fair.
The daughter now of Ellenlile
Of England has the sway;
And Ellen with her yeoman lives,
Each other's equals they.
[The end]
George Borrow's poem: Ellen Of Villenskov
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