Of How the Archpreist Went to Explore the Mountain Range and about What Happened to Him with the Mountain Girl
The apostle orders us to try all things a make a test.
So I set out to try the mountains –what a crazy quest.
I lost my mule, I had no food, and there was none to find.
Who seeks bread that’s better than wheat bread has left his sense behind.
It was the month of March, the day of good St. Meder’s feast
The road I had to take was up the long Lozoya Pass.
I couldn’t keep from running into storms of snow and hail.
“Who seeks what he has never lost should lose all that he has.
At the summit of the pass I was astonished and alarmed.
Beside a bush I found a big cowgirl who looked severe.
I asked her who she was and “Bumpkin!” she replied to me.
“I’m Bumpkin, the uncouth, strong girl who kidnaps men right here.
“I guard this mountain pass and I collect the legal toll.
Whoever pays it freely I let pass and vex no more.
But if he won’t pay up, I fleece him quickly of his purse.
So pay up, or you’ll find how grain is threshed out on the floor.
She blocked the road completely –it was narrow, just a trail
Picked out through boulders by the cowherds – I could not pass by.
Thus, seeing I was in a fix and hapless, stiff with cold,
I said, “Dear girl, you can’t get blood from turnips, so why try?
“Let me go on, dear fried, I’ll give you gifts the mountain way.
But if you please, tell me what’s customary in this land.
For as the saying goes, ‘the one who asks won’t go astray.’
For God’s sake, give me shelter, or I’ll die of cold today!”
Bumpkin replied, “Well beggars can’t be choosers, that’s well known.
But promise something nice at least, don’t make me mad at you.
If you will give, don’t fear that snow will wet you to the bone.
I advise you to agree before I snatch up all you own.
And as the old girl says, while at the skein she spits and spins,
“My dear, one who can’t help it unwillingly lets himself die.
So frozen, stiff and scared, complaining of her impudence,
I promised brooch, medallion, new-made pouch of rabbit skins.
She tossed me right up on her shoulders at this good response,
To me it was mere nothing to be carried through the snow,
She saved me thus from trudging over icy streams and slopes.
Of what occurred I wrote the stanzas which are set below: