THERE was once in Denmark a young king whose name was Hettel. He was fair and brave, and his people loved him dearly. And it came into his mind that he would take a wife; so he called together his wise men, to take counsel with them about his marriage.

Then said young Morung from Neisland, "My lord, I know a maiden who has not her like on earth for beauty and goodness. She is called Hilda, and she is the daughter of King Hagen of Ireland."

But when Horant, the minstrel, heard this he said, "It is true that Hilda is good and fair; but her father, King Hagen, is very fierce, and hangs or slays every man who is sent to woo her."

But the king's mind was made up, and he chose

four messengers, Wate, Frute, Yrold, and Horant, to go to Ireland to win the princess for him. And he made ready a splendid ship, and decked it with gold and silver, and put in it much treasure, jewels, and silken garments, and bade his thanes go to Ireland and fetch Hilda thence.

So they sailed away, and came at last to the land of Hagen, where they gave out that they were traders, and sent rich gifts to the king, begging for his protection. And he said that no stranger who came to his kingdom need fear any harm, and he gave them lodging within his city.

Then they brought on shore their costly wares, and made a booth, and began to trade with the people of that place; and they sold their goods so cheaply that all men wished to buy from them, and everyone was pleased and spoke well of these strange traders.

So great was their fame that it came at last to the ears of the Princess Hilda, and she desired much to speak with them. father to bid them to the might be able to do so.

And she asked her palace, so that she Then Hagen made a

great feast, and asked the strangers to it; and Hilda and her mother, dressed in their fairest

garments, came to receive the guests. All four men pleased them greatly, but most of all did they delight in the singing of Horant the minstrel.

So sweet was the song that the queen thought it all too short, and bade Horant sing to her in her bower. And in the grey dawn between the day and the night, he arose and sang. At the sound all the little birds that had just begun their morning lays hushed their voices; and the people who were asleep in the palace arose to hear him. All day he sang, yet it seemed to them but a few moments. And the cattle in the woodlands forsook their pasture; and the worms in the grass ceased their going, and the fish left off swimming in the sea. And sick men forgot their pain, and pious men cared no longer to listen to the church bell or the chanting of the priests, for all such melody seemed harsh and rough after the wonderful singing of the stranger.

And when he ceased Hilda longed so much to hear him again that she bade him come to her chamber and sing to her alone. So at evening he came to her, and she said, "Now let me hear your sweetest song, because your music is beyond all delights that I have ever known."