That was his mother Adeline the Queen. She said to him, "My young son, let others play the harp. Gird on thy sword, mount thy horse, try thy courage, strive and strain, see the world ere thou turn again! Sir Vonved, look about thee!'
Sir Vonved binds his sword to his side,
To battle with warriors he will ride;
Strange was his journey and intent,
For no man knew the way he went.
Sir Vonved, look about thee!
His helmet was blinking,
His spurs were clinking,
His horse was springing,
In saddle bow swinging!
Sir Vonved, look about thee![1]
He rode one day and then days three,
Yet never a city could he see.
"Ha!" said the youth, "on either hand,
Is there no city in this land?"
Sir Vonved, look about thee!
And as he went the road along,
There came to him Sir Thūle Vāng,
Sir Thūle Vāng, with many a son;
They were good warriors every one.
Sir Vonved, look about thee!
"My youngest son, hear what I say!
Our armour we must change to-day;
My harness must be worn by thee,
Before we fight this hero free."
Sir Vonved, look about thee!
- ↑ The metre changes in this verse as in the Danish original.
