p. 8“What ladies can buy to wear they are free,
And hindrance none they shall meet from me;
If the son of a Boor can a horse support,
‘Fore God, I’ll never destroy his sport!”
   Woe befall her, Berngerd.

“My Lord, we’ll that matter let drop to the ground;
With chains of steel let the land be bound,
So that man or woman thereout or therein
Withouten toll cannot hope to win.”
   Woe befall her, Berngerd.

“How should we so much steel obtain,
As to bind therewith the land and main?
O Madam! some mercy and kindness shew,
Or expect the curse of the people now.”
   Woe befall her, Berngerd.

“To Ribe, to winter there, we’ll depart,
There smiths we shall find well skilled in their art;
p. 9Both locks and keys will we have made,
And toeen and iron palisade.”
   Woe befa. . . Read More