I chased with heart and bosom glowing.

“It crouched beneath my scarlet cloak,
   It pleased me, Sirs, beyond all measure;
With thanks to heaven the gift I took,
   And made me happy with my treasure.

“I let my hounds the wild deer chase,
   I thought but little of their capture;
But I took the hind to my embrace,
   What moments then of bliss and rapture.

“Of all the world’s fair maids was she
   The fairest both in face and carriage;
If she, Sir Knights, your sister be,
   I beg your sister’s hand in marriage.

“A faithful brother I will be,
   And in your cause I death will suffer;
And her I’ll hold in respect and love,
   And nothing more a knight can proffer.”

“Thou shalt not get the maid for mate,
   But thou shalt die, thou knight enamour’d;
So make thy shrift ’neath the linden straight,
   The little birds shall hear it stammer’d.

“Now wilt thou stand, or wilt thou fly
   Into the deep wood for protection;
Or guard thy young life valiantly,
   To prove thy courage and affection?”

“O I will stand, nor craven fly
   Unto the murky wood for cover,
I’ll guard my life right valiantly,
   And thus I’ll prove me worthy of her.”

First one he slew, then quickly two,
   His knightly courage well display’d he;
But, though his seven foes he slew,
   With his own life full dearly paid he.

When the tidings reached the maiden’s ear
   She let fall briny tears in plenty;
But if for her kin she shed one tear,
   She shed I ween for the bold knight twenty.

DAMSEL METTIE.

Knights Peter and Olaf they sat o’er the board,
Betwixt them in jesting passed many a word.

“Now hear thou, Sir Olaf my comrade, do tell
Why thou hast ne’er wedded some fair demoiselle?”

“What need with a housewife myself to distress,
So long as my little gold horn I possess?

“So long as my little gold horn I possess,
I lure every maid I may wish to caress.

“The Damsel is not in the world to be found,
But what I can lure with that little horn’s sound.”

“I know a proud damsel that dwells by the rill,
On her thou couldst never accomplish thy will.

“I’ll gage my war courser, the steady and tried,
Thou never canst lure the fair Mettie, my bride.”

“Against him I’ll gage my grey courser of power,
That she shall this evening repair to my bower.

“My courser so proud, and my neck bone so white
I’ll gage that I lure the fair Mettie this night.”

’Twas late in the evening, mist fell from the skies,
Sir Olaf he plays in his very best guise.

Sir Olaf he plays on his gold harp a strain,
That heard the proud Mettie far over the plain.

Sir Olaf a tune on his golden horn blew,
To the house of fair Mettie the thrilling sounds flew.

Long stood the fair Mettie and listened thereto:
“Now shall I or not to that horn-player go?”

Long stood damsel Mettie in doubt and in care:
“No one of my maidens take with me I dare.”

The maid and the little brown messan her friend,
Through the paths of the forest so lonely they wend.

Her mantle of blue the fair Mettie puts on,
And unto the bower of Sir Olaf she’s gone.

On the door of the chamber she gave a low knock:
“Sir Olaf, I pray