Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email [email protected]. Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library, UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was made.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION 1913
_Copyright in the United States of America_ _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
Proud Signild’s bold brothers have taken her hand, They’ve wedded her into a far distant land.
They’ve wedded her far from her own native land, To her father’s foul murderer gave they her hand.
And so for eight winters the matter it stood, Their face for eight winters she never once view’d.
Proud Signild she brews, and the ruddy wine blends; To her brothers so courteous a bidding she sends.
Sir Loumor then laughed to his heart’s very core— Not once had he laughed for eight winters before.
To the top of the castle proud Signild she goes, And thence she so many a wistful look throws.
And now she perceives down the green hillock’s side Her seven bold brothers so furiously ride.
Proud Signild she stands on the castle’s high peak, She hears in the courtyard her seven brothers speak.
Proud Signild she hastes her array to put on, And unto the hall to Sir Loumor she’s gone.
“Now hear thou, Sir Loumor, thou lord, great and fine, “Wilt welcome these seven bold brothers of mine?”
“I’ll welcome these seven bold brothers of thine, Proud Signild, as if they were brothers of mine.”
Sir Loumor again a wild laughter outsent, And the hard marble wall by that laughter was rent.
Then outspake the child in the cradle that lay, No word had the child ever spoke till that day:
“It shows that no good is about to take place, When my father he laughs in my dear mother’s face.”
With his foot he the cradle has spurned with such force That out rolled the baby, a blood-besprent corse.
So matters passed on ’till of evening the fall, To the evening repast the relations went all.
Sir Loumor her lord she placed at the board’s head, To the stools at the bottom her brothers she led.
To Sir Loumor she handed the stout ruddy wine, To her brothers she only sweet milk will assign.
Sir Loumor pretended to drink deep and fast, But in secret the wine down beneath him he cast.