I. PAGAN POETRY
Cosette Faust Newton translation
1. EPIC OR HEROIC GROUP
WIDSITH
[Critical edition: R. W. Chambers, Widsith: a Study in Old English Heroic Legend. Cambridge, 1912.
Date: Probably late sixth or early seventh century.
Alliterative translation: Gummere, Oldest English Epic (1910), p. 191.
“Widsith—‘Farway’—the ideal wandering minstrel, tells of all the tribes among whom he has sojourned, of all the chieftains he has known. The first English students of the poem regarded it as autobiographical, as the actual record of his wanderings written by a scop; and were inclined to dismiss as interpolations passages mentioning princes whom it was chronologically impossible for a man who had met Ermanric to have known. This view was reduced to an absurdity by Haigh.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
“The more we study the growth of German heroic tradition, the more clear does it become that Widsith and Deor reflect that tradition. They are not the actual outpourings of actual poets at the court of Ermanric or the Heodenings. What the poems sung in the court of Ermanric were like we shall never know: but we can safely say that they were unlike Widsith.... The Traveller’s tale is a fantasy of some man, keenly interested in the old stories, who depicts an ideal wandering singer, and makes him move hither and thither among the tribes and the heroes whose stories he loves. In the names of its chiefs, in the names of its tribes, and above all in its spirit, Widsith reflects the heroic age of the migrations, an age which had hardly begun in the days of Ermanric.”—Chambers, p. 4.
Lines 75, 82-84 are almost certainly interpolated. With these rejected “the poem leaves upon us,” says Chambers, “a very definite impression. It is a catalogue of the tribes and heroes of Germany, and many of these heroes, though they may have been half legendary already to the writer of the poem, are historic characters who can be dated with accuracy.”]
Note.—In the footnotes, no attempt is made to discuss peoples or persons mentioned in this poem unless they are definitely known and are of importance for an understanding of the meaning of the lines.
[16]
Widsith now spoke, his word-hoard unlocked, He who traveled the widest among tribes of men, Farthest among folk: on the floor he received The rarest of gifts. From the race of the Myrgings 5 His ancestors sprang. With Ealhhild the gracious, The fair framer of peace, for the first time He sought the home of the Hræda king, From the Angles in the East —of Eormanric, Fell and faithless. Freely he spoke forth: 10 “Many a royal ruler of a realm I have known; Every leader should live a life of virtue; One earl after the other shall order his land, He who wishes and works for the weal of his throne! Of these for a while was Hwala the best, [17] 15 But Alexander of all of men Was most famous of lords, and he flourished the most Of all the earls whom on earth I have known. Attila ruled the Huns, Eormanric the Goths, Becca the Banings, the Burgundians Gifica. 20 Cæsar ruled the Greeks and Cælic the Finns, Hagena the Holm-Rugians and Heoden the Glommas. [18] Witta ruled the Swabians, Wada the Hælsings, Meaca the Myrgings, Mearchealf the Hundings, Theodoric ruled the Franks, Thyle the Rondings, 25 Breoca the Brondings, Billing the Wernas. Oswine ruled the Eowas and the Ytas Gefwulf; Finn Folcwalding ruled the Frisian people. Sigehere ruled longest the Sea-Dane’s kingdom. Hnæf ruled the Hocings, Helm the Wulfings, 30 Wald the Woings, Wod the Thuringians, Sæferth the Secgans, the Swedes Ongentheow. Sceafthere ruled the Ymbrians, Sceafa the Lombards, Hun the Hætweras and Holen the Wrosnas. Hringweald was called the king of the pirates. 35 Offa ruled the Angles, Alewih the Danes: [19] Among these men he was mightiest of all, But he equalled not Offa in earl-like deeds. For Offa by arms while only a child, First among fighters won the fairest of kingdoms; 40 Not any of his age in earlship surpassed him. In a single combat in the siege of battle He fixed the frontier at Fifeldore Against the host of the Myrgings, which was held thenceforth By Angles and Swabians as Offa had marked it. 45 Hrothwulf and Hrothgar held for a long time A neighborly compact, the nephew and uncle, After they had vanquished the Viking races And Ingeld’s array was overridden, Hewed down at Heorot the Heathobard troop. 50 So forth I fared in foreign lands All over the earth; of evil and good There I made trial, torn from my people; Far from my folk I have followed my travels. Therefore I sing the song of my wanderings, [20] 55 Declare before the company in the crowded mead-hall, How gifts have been given me by the great men of earth. I was with the Huns and with the Hræda-Goths, With the Swedes and with the Geats and with the southern Danes, With the Wenlas I was and with the Vikings and with the Wærna folk. 60 With the Gepidæ I was and with the Wends and with the Gefligas. With the Angles I was and with the Swæfe and with the Ænenas. With the Saxons I was and with the Secgans and with the Suardones. With the Hronas I was and with the Deanas and with the Heatho-Raemas. With the Thuringians I was and with the Throwendas; 65 And with the Burgundians, where a bracelet was given me. [21] Guthhere there gave me a goodly jewel, As reward for my song: not slothful that king! With the Franks I was and with the Frisians and with the Frumtingas. With the Rugians I was and with the Glommas and with the Roman strangers. 70 Likewise in Italy with Ælfwine I was: He had, as I have heard, a hand the readiest For praiseworthy deeds of prowess and daring; With liberal heart he lavished his treasures, Shining armlets —the son of Eadwine. 75 I was with the Saracens and with the Serings; With the Greeks I was and with the Finns and with far-famed Cæsar, Who sat in rule over the cities of revelry— Over the riches and wealth of the realm of the Welsh. With the Scots I was and with the Picts and with the Scride-Finns. [22] 80 With the Lidwicingas I was and with the Leonas and with the Longobards, With the Hæthnas and with the Hærethas and with the Hundings; With the Israelites I was and with the Assyrians, And with the Hebrews and with the Egyptians and with the Hindus I was, With the Medes I was and with the Persians and with the Myrging folk, 85 And with the Mofdings I was and against the Myrging band, And with the Amothingians. With the East Thuringians I was And with the Eolas and with the Istians and with the Idumingas. And I was with Eormanric all of the time; There the king of the Goths gave me in honor 90 The choicest of bracelets —the chief of the burghers— On which were six hundred pieces of precious gold, Of shining metal in shillings counted; I gave over this armlet to Eadgils then, To my kind protector when I came to my home, [23] 95 To my beloved prince, the lord of the Myrgings, Who gave me the land that was left by my father; And Ealhhild then also another ring gave me, Queen of the doughty ones, the daughter of Eadwine. Her praise has passed to all parts of the world, 100 Wherever in song I sought to tell Where I knew under heavens the noblest of queens, Golden-adorned, giving forth treasures. Then in company with Scilling, in clear ringing voice ’Fore our beloved lord I uplifted my song; 105 Loudly the harp in harmony sounded; Then many men with minds discerning Spoke of our lay in unsparing praise, That they never had heard a nobler song. Then I roamed through all the realm of the Goths; 110 Unceasing I sought the surest of friends, The crowd of comrades of the court of Eormanric. Hethca sought I and Beadeca and the Harlungs, Emerca sought I and Fridla and East-Gota, Sage and noble, the sire of Unwen. 115 Secca sought I and Becca, Seafola and Theodoric, [24] Heathoric and Sifeca, Hlithe and Incgentheow. Eadwine sought I and Elsa Ægelmund and Hungar And the worthy troop of the With-Myrgings. Wulfhere sought I and Wyrmhere: there war was seldom lacking 120 When the host of the Hrædas with hardened swords Must wage their wars by the woods of Vistula To hold their homes from the hordes of Attila. Rædhere sought I and Rondhere, Rumstan and Gislhere, Withergield and Freotheric, Wudga and Hama: 125 These warriors were not the worst of comrades, Though their names at the last of my list are numbered. Full oft from that host the hissing spear Fiercely flew on the foemen’s troopers. There the wretches ruled with royal treasure, 130 Wudga and Hama, over women and men. So I ever have found as I fared among men That in all the land most beloved is he [25] To whom God giveth a goodly kingdom To hold as long as he liveth here. 135 Thus wandering widely through the world there go Minstrels of men through many lands, Express their needs and speak their thanks. Ever south and north some one they meet Skillful in song who scatters gifts, 140 To further his fame before his chieftains, To do deeds of honor, till all shall depart, Light and life together: lasting praise he gains, And has under heaven the highest of honor.
4. Myrging. Nothing is known with any degree of certainty about this tribe. Chambers concludes that they dwelt south of the River Eider, which is the present boundary between Schleswig and Holstein, and that they belonged to the Suevic stock of peoples. See vv. 84, 85, below.
5. Ealhhild. See notes to vv. 8 and 97, below. Much discussion has taken place as to who Ealhhild was. Summing up his lengthy discussion, Chambers says (Widsith, p. 28): “For these reasons it seems best to regard Ealhhild as the murdered wife of Eormanric, the Anglian equivalent of the Gothic Sunilda and the Northern Swanhild.”
7. Hræda king. That is, the Gothic king.
8. Angles. One of the Low Germanic tribes that later settled in Britain, and from whom the name England is derived. Their original home was in the modern Schleswig-Holstein. Eormanric. See v. 88, below, and Deor’s Lament, v. 21. He was a king of the Goths. After his death, about 375 A.D., he came to be known as the typical bad king, covetous, fierce, and cruel. According to the Scandinavian form of the story, the king sends his son and a treacherous councillor, Bikki (the Becca of v. 19) to woo and bring to the court the maiden Swanhild. Bikki urges the son to woo her for himself and then betrays him to his father, who has him hanged and causes Swanhild to be trampled to death by horses. Her brothers revenge her death and wound the king. At this juncture the Huns attack him, and during the attack Eormanric dies.
11. The proverb, or “gnomic verse,” is very common in Old English poetry.
14. Hwala appears in the West Saxon genealogies as son of Beowi, son of Sceaf (see Beowulf, vv. 4, 18).
15. Alexander [the Great]. The writer speaks of many celebrities who were obviously too early for him to know personally. This passage is usually considered to be an interpolation.
18. Becca. See note to v. 8. The Banings are not definitely identified. The Burgundians were originally an East Germanic tribe. During the second and third centuries they were neighbors of the Goths and lived in the modern Posen. Later they moved west, and finally threatened Gaul, where in the middle of the fifth century they were defeated by the Roman general, Aetius. Shortly afterward they were defeated by the Huns. The remnant settled in Savoy, where they gradually recovered, and by the middle of the sixth century became an important nation. Gifica (or Gibica) was traditionally spoken of as an early king who ruled over the Burgundians while they were still in the east, living as neighbors of the Goths on the Vistula.
20. Cæsar, was the name given to the Emperor of the East—the “Greek Emperor.” The Finns were at that time located in their present home in Finland.
21, 22. Hagena, Heoden, Wada. These heroes all belong to one myth-cycle, which was told in Europe for many centuries. It is difficult to reconstruct the story as it was known at the time Widsith was written, for it has received many additions at the hands of subsequent writers. The essential parts of the tale seem to be these: Heoden asks his servant, the sweet-singing Heorrenda, for help in wooing Hild, the daughter of Hagena. Heorrenda, enlisting the services of Wada, the renowned sea-monster (or sea-god) goes to woo Hild. By means of Wada’s frightful appearance and skill in swordsmanship they attract Hild’s attention, and Heorrenda then sings so that the birds are shamed into silence. They then woo Hild and flee with her from her father’s court. Hagena pursues, and Heoden, after marrying Hild, engages him in battle. Each evening Hild goes to the battlefield and by magic awakens the warriors who have fallen, and they fight the same battle over day after day without ceasing. Heorrenda, the sweet singer of the Heodenings (i.e., of the court of Heoden) is mentioned in Deor’s Lament, vv. 36 and 39. Wada is a widely-known legendary character. He had power over the sea. He was the father of Weland, the Vulcan of Norse myth (see Deor’s Lament, and Waldhere, A, v. 2). The Holm-Rugians and the Hælsings were in the fourth century on the Baltic coast of Germany. The Glommas are unknown.
24. Theodoric, son of Chlodowech, king of the Franks, is meant, and not the famous Gothic king. Cf. v. 115, below.
25. Breoca: the same as Breca, prince of the Brondings, the opponent of Beowulf in his famous swimming match (Beowulf, vv. 499-606).
27, 28. Finn Folcwalding was the traditional hero of the Frisians. For fragments of the stories connected with him, see Beowulf, vv. 1068-1159, and the fragmentary poem, The Fight at Finnsburg (p. 34, below). Hnæf, son of Hoc (hence ruler of the Hocings) also figures in the Finn story. Hnæf’s sister marries Finn. For a summary of the story see the Introduction to The Fight at Finnsburg.
30. Thuringians. These people dwelt near the mouths of the Rhine and the Maas.
31. Ongentheow, the king of Sweden, is frequently mentioned in Beowulf (e.g., vv. 2476 and 2783). The Secgans are unknown, but they are mentioned in v. 62, below, and in The Fight at Finnsburg, v. 26.
32. The ancient home of the Longobards (or Lombards) was between the Baltic and the Elbe.
35. Offa: a legendary king of the Angles, while they still lived on the continent toward the end of the fourth century. Legends of him are found in Denmark and in England. Chambers concludes that the Danish form is perhaps very near that known to the author of Widsith. Offa, the son of the king, though a giant in stature, is dumb from his youth, and when the German prince from the south challenges the aged king to send a champion to defend his realm in single combat, Offa’s speech is restored and he goes to the combat. The fight was held at Fifeldore, the River Eider, which was along the frontier between the Germans and the Danes. Here Offa fought against two champions and defeated them both, thus establishing the frontier for many years. Note that the author of Widsith, who is of the Myrging race, is here celebrating the defeat of his own people.
44. Swabians probably refers to the Myrgings, who were of the stock of the Suevi.
45. Hrothwulf and Hrothgar. See Beowulf, vv. 1017 and 1181 ff. Hrothgar is Hrothwulf’s uncle, and they live on friendly terms at Heorot (Hrothgar’s hall). Later it seems that Hrothwulf fails to perform his duties as the guardian of Hrothgar’s son, thus bringing to an end his years of friendliness to Hrothgar and his sons. The fight referred to is against Ingeld, Hrothgar’s son-in-law who invaded the Danish kingdom. (See Beowulf, vv. 84, 2024 ff.)
57. See v. 18, above.
58. The Geats were probably settled in southern Sweden. They were the tribe to which Beowulf belonged.
60. The Gepidæ were closely related to the Goths and were originally located near them at the mouth of the Vistula River. The Wends were a Slavonic tribe who finally pressed up into the lands vacated in the great migrations by the Germans between the Elbe and the Vistula.
61. Angles. See vv. 8 and 44, above. Swæfe. See line 44, above.
62. The Saxons, who with the Angles and Jutes settled Britain in the fifth and sixth centuries, lived originally near the mouth of the Elbe.
63. The Heatho-Raemas dwelt near the modern Christiania in Norway. See Beowulf, line 518, in which Breca in the swimming match reaches their land.
65. Burgundians. See v. 19.
66. Guthhere was a ruler of the Burgundians (v. 19). He was probably at Worms when he gave the jewel to Widsith. Guthhere, because of his great battle with Attila and his tragic defeat, became a great legendary hero. (See Waldhere, B, v. 14.)
67. The Franks and the Frisians are spoken of together in Beowulf (vv. 1207, 1210, 2917), where they together repulse an attack made by Hygelac. The Frisians probably dwelt west of the Zuider Zee.
68. The Rugians and the Glommas. See note to v. 21, above.
70. Ælfwine: (otherwise known as Alboin), the Lombard conqueror of Italy. He was the son of Audoin (Eadwine).
75-87. Most scholars agree that these lines are interpolated, since they do not fit in with the rest of the poem.
75. Serings: possibly Syrians.
78. Welsh: a term applied to the Romans by the Old English writers.
79. The Scride-Finns were settled in northern Norway—not in Finland, where the main body of Finns were found. They are perhaps to be identified with the modern Lapps.
80. Lidwicingas: the inhabitants of Armorica. Longobards. See v. 32.
81. The Hundings are also mentioned in line 23.
84, 85. Myrging. See line 4.
86. East Thuringians. Probably those Thuringians dwelling in the sixth century east of the Elbe.
87. Istians. Probably the Esthonians mentioned in the Voyage of Wulfstan. (See p. 194, line 151, below.) The Idumingas were neighbors of the Istians. Both were probably Lettish or Lithuanian tribes.
88. Eormanric. See note to v. 8, above.
93. Eadgils was king of the Myrgings.
97. Ealhhild. See note to v. 5, above. She was (v. 98) daughter of Eadwine, King of the Lombards (v. 74). The meaning here is not absolutely clear, but Chambers makes a good case for considering her the wife of Eormanric. He thinks that she followed her husband’s gift to Widsith by a gift of another ring, in return for which Widsith sings her praises.
112, 113. Emerca and Fridla, the Harlungs, were murdered by their uncle, Eormanric. East-Gota, or Ostrogotha, the king of the united Goths in the middle of the third century, was a direct ancestor of Eormanric.
115. Becca. See note to v. 8. Seafola and Theodoric: probably Theodoric of Verona and his retainer, Sabene of Ravenna. On the other hand, the references may be to Theoderic the Frank. (See v. 24.)
116. Sifeca: probably the evil councillor who brought about the murder by Eormanric of his nephews, the Harlungs. (See vv. 112, 113, note.)
117-119. These names are all very obscure.
120. Hrædas: the Goths.
121. The struggle between the Goths and the Huns did not actually occur in the Vistula wood, but after the Goths had left the Vistula.
124, 130. Wudga and Hama. The typical outlaws of German tradition. Hama appears in Beowulf (v. 1198) as a fugitive who has stolen the Brising necklace and fled from Eormanric. Wudga, the Widia of Waldhere (B, vv. 4, 9) came finally to be known for his treachery. He was connected with the court of Theodoric and received gifts from him, but he is later represented as having betrayed the king. The traditions about both of these men are badly confused.
135-143. One of the passages that give us a definite impression of the scop, or minstrel, and his life. It serves very well for the conclusion of a poem descriptive of the life of a minstrel.
[26]
DEOR’S LAMENT
[Critical text and translation: Dickins, Runic and Heroic Poems, Cambridge University Press, 1915, p. 70.
Alliterative translation: Gummere, Oldest English Epic (1910), p. 186.
The metrical arrangement of this poem into strophes with a constant refrain is very unusual in the poetry of the Anglo-Saxons, though it is common among their Scandinavian kinsmen. This fact has led some scholars to believe that we have here a translation from the Old Norse. Professor Gummere, however, makes a good case against this assumption.
The first three strophes refer to the widely known story of Weland, or Wayland, the Vulcan of Norse myth. The crafty king, Nithhad, captures Weland, fetters him (according to some accounts, hamstrings him), and robs him of the magic ring that gives him power to fly. Beadohild, Nithhad’s daughter, accompanied by her brothers, goes to Weland and has him mend rings for her. In this way he recovers his own ring and his power to fly. Before leaving he kills the sons of Nithhad, and, stupefying Beadohild with liquor, puts her to shame.]
To Weland came woes and wearisome trial, And cares oppressed the constant earl; His lifelong companions were pain and sorrow, And winter-cold weeping: his ways were oft hard, 5 After Nithhad had struck the strong man low, Cut the supple sinew-bands of the sorrowful earl. That has passed over: so this may depart!
Beadohild bore her brothers’ death Less sorely in soul than herself and her plight [27] 10 When she clearly discovered her cursed condition, That unwed she should bear a babe to the world. She never could think of the thing that must happen. That has passed over: so this may depart!
Much have we learned of Mæthhild’s life: 15 How the courtship of Geat was crowned with grief, How love and its sorrows allowed him no sleep. That has passed over: so this may depart!
Theodoric held for thirty winters The town of the Mærings: that was told unto many. 20 That has passed over: so this may depart!
We all have heard of Eormanric Of the wolfish heart: a wide realm he had Of the Gothic kingdom. Grim was the king. Many men sat and bemoaned their sorrows, 25 Woefully watching and wishing always [28] That the cruel king might be conquered at last. That has passed over: so this may depart!
Sad in his soul he sitteth joyless, Mournful in mood. He many times thinks 30 That no end will e’er come to the cares he endures. Then must he think how throughout the world The gracious God often gives his help And manifold honors to many an earl And sends wide his fame; but to some he gives woes. 35 Of myself and my sorrows I may say in truth That I was happy once as the Heodenings’ scop, Dear to my lord. Deor was my name. Many winters I found a worthy following, Held my lord’s heart, till Heorrenda came, 40 The skillful singer, and received the land-right That the proud helm of earls had once promised to me! That has passed over: so this may depart!
1. Weland, or Wayland; the blacksmith of the Norse gods. He is represented as being the son of Wada (see Widsith, v. 22, note).
8. Beadohild was violated by Weland, and this stanza refers to the approaching birth of her son Widia (or Wudga). (See Widsith, vv. 124, 130, and Waldhere, B, vv. 4-10.)
14. The exact meaning of the third strophe as here translated is not clear. To make it refer to the story of Nithhad and Weland, it is necessary to make certain changes suggested by Professor Tupper (Modern Philology, October, 1911; Anglia, xxxvii, 118). Thus amended, this stanza would read: “Of the violation of (Beadu)hild many of us have heard. The affections of the Geat (i.e., Nithhad) were boundless, so that sorrowing love deprived him of all sleep.” This grief of Nithhad would be that caused by the killing of his sons and the shame brought on his daughter. Thus the first three stanzas of the poem would refer to (1) Weland’s torture, (2) Beadohild’s shame, and (3) Nithhad’s grief.
18. Strophe four refers to Theodoric the Goth (see Widsith, v. 115, and Waldhere, B, v. 4, note). He was banished to Attila’s court for thirty years.
19. Mærings: a name applied to the Ostrogoths.
21. Eormanric was king of the Goths and uncle to Theodoric. He died about 375 A.D. He put his only son to death, had his wife torn to pieces, and ruined the happiness of many people. For an account of his crimes see the notes to Widsith, v. 8.
36. See, for the connection of the Heodenings and the sweet-singing Heorrenda, the note to Widsith, v. 21.
[29]
WALDHERE
[Critical text and translation: Dickins, Runic and Heroic Poems, p. 56.
Date: Probably eighth century.
Information as to the story is found in a number of continental sources. Its best known treatment is in a Latin poem, Waltharius, by Ekkehard of St. Gall, dating from the first half of the tenth century. Ekkehard’s story is thus summarized in the Cambridge History of English Literature: “Alphere, king of Aquitaine, had a son named Waltharius, and Heriricus, king of Burgundy, an only daughter named Hiltgund, who was betrothed to Waltharius. While they were yet children, however, Attila, king of the Huns, invaded Gaul, and the kings seeing no hope in resistance, gave up their children to him as hostages, together with much treasure. Under like compulsion treasure was obtained also from Gibicho, king of the Franks, who sent as hostage a youth of noble birth named Hagano. In Attila’s service, Waltharius and Hagano won great renown as warriors, but the latter eventually made his escape. When Waltharius grew up, he became Attila’s chief general; yet he remembered his old engagement with Hiltgund. On his return from a victorious campaign he made a great feast for the king and his court, and when all were sunk in their drunken sleep, he and Hiltgund fled laden with much gold. On their way home they had to cross the Rhine near Worms. There the king of the Franks, Guntharius, the son of Gibicho, heard from the ferryman of the gold they were carrying and determined to secure it. Accompanied by Hagano and eleven other picked warriors, he overtook them as they rested in a cave in the Vosges. Waltharius offered him a large share of the gold in order to obtain peace; but the king demanded the whole, together with Hiltgund and the horses. Stimulated by the promise of great rewards, the eleven warriors now attacked Waltharius one after another, but he slew them all. Hagano had tried to dissuade Guntharius from the attack; but now, since his nephew was among the slain, he formed a plan with the king for surprising Waltharius. On the following day they both fell upon him after he had quitted his stronghold, and, in the struggle that ensued, all three were maimed. Waltharius, however, was able to proceed on his way with Hiltgund, and the story ends happily with their marriage.”
Both our fragments, which are found on two leaves in the Royal Library at Copenhagen, refer to a time immediately before the final encounter. The first is spoken by the lady; the second by the man. We cannot tell how long this poem may have been. What we have may be leaves from a long epic, or a short poem, or an episode in a long epic.]
[30]
A
. . . . . . . . . . she eagerly heartened him: “Lo, the work of Weland shall not weaken or fail For the man who the mighty Mimming can wield, The frightful brand. Oft in battle have fallen 5 Sword-wounded warriors one after the other. 6 Vanguard of Attila, thy valor must ever Endure the conflict! The day is now come, 9 When fate shall award you one or the other: 10 To lose your life or have lasting glory, Through all the ages, O Ælfhere’s son! No fault do I find, my faithful lover, Saying I have seen thee at sword-play weaken, Yield like a coward to a conqueror’s arms, 15 Flee from the field of fight and escape, Protect thy body, though bands of the foemen Were smiting thy burnies with broad-edged swords; But unfalt’ring still farther the fight thou pursuedst Over the line of battle; hence, my lord, I am burdened 20 With fear that too fiercely to the fight thou shalt rush To the place of encountering thy opponent in conflict, To wage on him war. Be worthy of thyself [31] In glorious deeds while thy God protects thee! Have no fear as to sword for the fine-gemmed weapon 25 Has been given thee to aid us: on Guthhere with it Thou shalt pay back the wrong of unrighteously seeking To stir up the struggle and strife of battle; He rejected that sword and the jewelled treasure, The lustrous gems; now, leaving them all, 30 He shall flee from this field to find his lord, His ancient land, or lie here forever Asleep, if he . . . . . . . .”
1. The speaker is Hildegyth (the Old English form for Hiltgund).
2. Weland: the blacksmith of Teutonic myth. See Deor’s Lament, introductory note, and notes to vv. 1 and 8.
3. Mimming was the most famous of the swords made by Weland.
28. Waldhere had offered Guthhere a large share of the treasure as an inducement for him to desist from the attack, and Guthhere had refused it.
B
“ . . . . . . . . a better sword Except that other, which also I have Closely encased in its cover of jewels. I know that Theodoric thought that to Widia [32] 5 Himself he would send it, and the sword he would join With large measure of jewels and many other brands, Worked all with gold. This reward he would send Because, when a captive, the kinsman of Nithhad, Weland’s son, Widia, from his woes had released him— 10 Thus in haste he escaped from the hands of the giants.” Waldhere spoke, the warrior brave; He held in his hand his helper in battle, He grasped his weapon, shouting words of defiance: “Indeed, thou hadst faith, O friend of the Burgundians, 15 That the hand of Hagena had held me in battle, Defeated me on foot. Fetch now, if thou darest, From me weary with war my worthy gray corselet! It lies on my shoulder as ’twas left me by Ælfhere, Goodly and gorgeous and gold-bedecked, 20 The most honorable of all for an atheling to hold When he goes into battle to guard his life, To fight with his foes: fail me it will never When a stranger band shall strive to encounter me, Besiege me with swords, as thou soughtest to do. [33] 25 He alone will vouchsafe the victory who always Is eager and ready to aid every right: He who hopes for the help of the holy Lord, For the grace of God, shall gain it surely, If his earlier work has earned the reward. 30 Well may the brave warriors then their wealth enjoy, Take pride in their property! That is . . . .”
1. The opening of the second fragment finds the two champions ready for the final struggle. Guthhere is finishing his boast, in which he praises his equipment.
3. The meaning of this passage is obscure, but the translation here given seems to be the most reasonable conjecture. He probably refers to a sword that he has at hand in a jewelled case ready for use.
4. Stopping thus to give a history of the weapon calls to mind many similar passages in the Homeric poems. The particular story in mind here is the escape of Theodoric from the giants. He loses his way and falls into the hands of one of the twelve giants who guard Duke Nitger. He gains the favor of Nitger’s sister, and through her lets his retainers, Hildebrand, Witige, and Heime know of his plight. They defeat the giants and release him. Witige and Heime are the Middle High German forms for the old English Widia (see Deor’s Lament, v. 8, note), or Wudga and Hama (see Widsith, vv. 124, 130, note).
14. Friend of the Burgundians: a usual old English expression for “king.” Guthhere was king of the Burgundians in the middle of the fifth century (see Widsith, vv. 19, 66, notes).
15. Hagena is now the only one of Guthhere’s comrades that has not been killed by Waldhere. Cf. Widsith, v. 21.
[34]
THE FIGHT AT FINNSBURG
[Edition used: Chambers, Beowulf, p. 158. See also Dickins, Runic and Heroic Poems, p. 64.
Alliterative translation, Gummere, Oldest English Epic, p. 160.
The manuscript is now lost. We have only an inaccurate version printed by Hickes at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Many difficulties are therefore found in the text. For a good discussion of the text, see an article by Mackie in The Journal of English and Germanic Philology, xvi, 250.
This fragment belongs to the epic story of Finn which is alluded to at some length in Beowulf (vv. 1068-1159). The saga can be reconstructed in its broad outlines, though it is impossible to be sure of details. One of the most puzzling of these details is the position in which the “Fight” occurs. In the story are two fights, either one of which may be the one described in the fragment. The weight of opinion seems to favor the first conflict, that in which Hnæf is killed. As summarized by Möller, the Finn story is briefly as follows:
“Finn, king of the Frisians, had carried off Hildeburh, daughter of Hoc (Beowulf, v. 1076), probably with her consent. Her father Hoc seems to have pursued the fugitives, and to have been slain in the fight which ensued on his overtaking them. After the lapse of some twenty years, Hoc’s sons Hnæf and Hengest, were old enough to undertake the duty of avenging their father’s death. They make an inroad into Finn’s country and a battle takes place in which many warriors, among them Hnæf and a son of Finn (1074, 1079, 1115), are killed. Peace is therefore solemnly concluded, and the slain warriors are burnt (1068-1124).
“As the year is too far advanced for Hengest to return home (1130 ff.), he and those of his men who survive remain for the winter in the Frisian country with Finn. But Hengest’s thoughts dwell constantly on the death of his brother Hnæf, and he would gladly welcome any excuse to break the peace which had been sworn by both parties. His ill concealed desire for revenge is noticed by the Frisians, who anticipate it by themselves taking the initiative and attacking Hengest and his men whilst they are sleeping in the hall. This is the night attack described in the “Fight.” It would seem that after a brave and desperate resistance Hengest himself falls in this fight at the hands of Hunlafing (1143), but two of his retainers, Guthlaf and Oslaf, succeed in cutting their way through their enemies and in escaping to their own land. They return with fresh troops, attack and slay Finn, and carry his queen, Hildeburh, off with them (1125-1159).”—Wyatt, Beowulf, (1901), p. 145.
[35]
Professor Gummere finds in the fragment an example bearing out his theory of the development of the epic. “The qualities which difference it from Beowulf,” he says, “are mainly negative; it lacks sentiment, moralizing, the leisure of the writer; it did not attempt probably to cover more than a single event; and one will not err in finding it a fair type of the epic songs which roving singers were wont to sing before lord and liegeman in hall and which were used with more or less fidelity by makers of complete epic poems.”]
“. . . . . . . . Are the gables not burning?” Boldly replied then the battle-young king: “The day is not dawning; no dragon is flying, And the high gable-horns of the hall are not burning, 5 But the brave men are bearing the battle line forward, While bloodthirsty sing the birds of slaughter. Now clangs the gray corselet, clashes the war-wood, Shield answers shaft. Now shineth the moon, Through its cover of clouds. Now cruel days press us 10 That will drive this folk to deadly fight. But wake at once, my warriors bold, Stand now to your armor and strive for honor; Fight at the front unafraid and undaunted.” Then arose from their rest, ready and valiant, 15 Gold-bedecked soldiers, and girded their swords. The noble knights went now to the door [36] And seized their swords, Sigeferth and Eaha, And to the other door Ordlaf and Guthlaf, And Hengest who followed to help the defense. 20 Now Guthere restrained Garulf from strife, Lest fearless at the first of the fight he rush To the door and daringly endanger his life, Since now it was stormed by so stalwart a hero. But unchecked by these words a challenge he shouted, 25 Boldly demanding what man held the door. “I am Sigferth,” he said, “the Secgan’s prince; Wide have I wandered; many woes have I known And bitter battles. Be it bad or good Thou shalt surely receive what thou seekest from me.” 30 At the wall by the door rose the din of battle; In the hands of heroes the hollow bucklers Shattered the shields. Shook then the hall floor Till there fell in the fight the faithful Garulf, Most daring and doughty of the dwellers on earth, 35 The son of Guthlaf; and scores fell with him. O’er the corpses hovered the hungry raven, [37] Swarthy and sallow-brown. A sword-gleam blazed As though all Finnsburg in flames were burning. Never heard I of heroes more hardy in war, 40 Of sixty who strove more strongly or bravely, Of swains who repaid their sweet mead better Than his loyal liegemen to their loved Hnæf. Five days they fought, but there fell not a one Of the daring band, though the doors they held always. 45 Now went from the warfare a wounded chief. He said that his burnie was broken asunder, His precious war-gear, and pierced was his helmet. Then questioned their chief and inquired of him How the warriors recovered from the wounds they received, 50 Or which of the youths . . . . . . .
1. The fragment begins in the middle of a word.
2. The “battle-young king” is probably the Hengest of v. 19. Possibly he is to be identified with Hengest, the conqueror of Kent.
5, 6. In the original these lines seem to be incomplete. The translation attempts to keep the intended meaning.
14, 15. In the original these appear as a single greatly expanded line, which was probably at one time two lines.
17. Sigeferth (see also line 26), prince of the Secgans is probably identical with Sæferth who ruled the Secgans in Widsith, v. 31.
18. Ordlaf and Guthlaf appear in the account in Beowulf (vv. 1148, ff.) as Oslaf and Guthlaf. They are the avengers of Hnæf.
20. From the construction it is impossible to tell who is the speaker and who is being restrained. But from line 33 it is seen to be Garulf who neglects the advice and is killed. Garulf and Guthere are, of course, of the attacking band.
26. Sigferth, one of the defenders. See v. 17, above.
28, 29. These lines are obscure. Probably they mean that Garulf may have as good as he sends in the way of a fight.
35. Guthlaf, the father of Garulf (the assailant) was probably not the Guthalf of line 18, who was a defender. If we have here a conflict between father and son, very little is made of it.
45. It is impossible to tell who the wounded warrior was or which chief is referred to in line 48.
[38]
2. GNOMIC GROUP
CHARMS
[Edition used: Kluge, Angelsächsisches Lesebuch.
Critical edition and discussion of most of the charms: Felix Grendon, Journal of American Folk-lore, xxii, 105 ff. See that article for bibliography.
Grendon divides the charms into five classes:
1. Exorcisms of diseases and disease spirits.
2. Herbal charms.
3. Charms for transferring disease.
4. Amulet charms.
5. Charm remedies.
These charms contain some of the most interesting relics of the old heathen religion of the Anglo-Saxons incongruously mingled with Christian practices. They were probably written down at so late a time that the churchmen felt they could no longer do harm.]
I. For Bewitched Land
Here is the remedy by which thou mayst improve thy fields if they will not produce well or if any evil thing is done to them by means of sorcery or witchcraft:
5 Take at night, before daybreak, four pieces of turf from the four corners of the land and mark the places where they have stood. Take then oil and honey and yeast and the milk of every kind of cattle that is on that land and a piece of every kind of tree that is grown 10 on that land, except hard wood, and a piece of every kind of herb known by name, except burdock alone. Then put holy water on these and dip it thrice in the [39] base of the turfs and say these words: Crescite, grow, et multiplicamini, and multiply, et replete, and fill, terram, 15 this earth, in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti sint benedicti; and Pater Noster as often as anything else.
Then carry the turfs to the church and have the priest sing four masses over them and have the green sides 20 turned toward the altar. Then bring them back before sunset to the place where they were at first. Now make four crosses of aspen and write on the end of each Matheus and Marcus and Lucas and Johannes. Lay the crosses on the bottom of each hole and then say: 25 Crux Matheus, crux Marcus, crux Lucas, crux Sanctus Johannes. Then take the sods and lay them on top and say nine times the word Crescite, and the Pater Noster as often. Turn then to the east and bow humbly nine times and say these words:
30 Eastward I stand, for honors I pray; I pray to the God of glory; I pray to the gracious Lord; I pray to the high and holy Heavenly Father; I pray to the earth and all of the heavens, And to the true and virtuous virgin Saint Mary, 35 And to the high hall of Heaven and its power, That with God’s blessing I may unbind this spell With my open teeth, and through trusty thought May awaken the growth for our worldly advantage, May fill these fields by fast belief, [40] 40 May improve this planting, for the prophet saith That he hath honors on earth whose alms are free, Who wisely gives, by the will of God.
Then turn three times following the course of the sun, stretch thyself prostrate, and chant the litanies. 45 Then say Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus through to the end. Then chant Benedicte with outstretched arms, and the Magnificat and Pater Noster three times and commend thy prayer to the praise and glory of Christ and Saint Mary and the Holy Rood, and to the honor 50 of him who owns the land and to all those that are subject to him. When all this is done, get some unknown seed from beggars, and give them twice as much as thou takest from them. Then gather all thy plowing gear together and bore a hole in the beam and put in 55 it incense and fennel and consecrated soap and consecrated salt. Take the seed and put it on the body of the plow, and then say:
Erce, Erce, Erce, of earth the mother, May he graciously grant thee, God Eternal, 60 To have fertile fields and fruitful harvests, Growing in profit and gaining in power; A host of products and harvests in plenty, Bright with the broad barley harvest; And heavy with the white harvest of wheat, 65 And all the harvest of the earth. May the Almighty Lord grant And all his saints who are seated in heaven, [41] That against all of the enemies this earth may be guarded, Protected and made proof against the powers of evil, Against sorceries and spells dispersed through the land. 70 Now I pray to the Power who planned the creation That no woman of witchcraft, no worker of magic, May change or unspell the charm I have spoken.
Then drive forth the plow and turn the first furrow and say:
75 Hail to thee, Earth, of all men the mother, Be goodly thy growth in God’s embrace, Filled with food as a favor to men.
Then take meal of every kind and bake a loaf as broad as it will lie between the two hands, kneading 80 it with milk and with holy water, and lay it under the first furrow. Say then:
Full be the field with food for mankind, Blossoming brightly. Blessed by thou By the holy name of Heaven’s Creator, 85 And the maker of Earth, which men inhabit. May God who created the ground grant us growing gifts, That each kernel of corn may come to use.
Say then three times, Crescite in nomine patris, sint benedicti. Amen and Pater Noster three times.
30. Irregularities in the meter in the translations are imitations of similar irregularities in the original.
58. Erce: probably the name of an old Teutonic deity, the Mother of Earth. This reference is all we have to preserve the name.
75. The conception of a goddess as Mother of Earth and of Earth as Mother of Men is entirely pagan. This charm is a peculiar complex of Christian and pagan ideas.
[42]
II. Against a Sudden Stitch
Against a sudden stitch take feverfew, and the red nettle that grows through the house, and plantain. Boil in butter.
Loud were they, lo loud, as over the lea they rode; 5 Resolute they were when they rode over the land. Protect thyself that thy trouble become cured and healed. Out, little stick, if it still is I stood under the linden, under the light shield, Where the mighty women their magic prepared, 10 And they sent their spears spinning and whistling. But I will send them a spear in return, Unerringly aim an arrow against them. Out, little stick, if it still is within! There sat a smith and a small knife forged 15 . . . . . . . sharply with a stroke of iron. Out little stick if it still is within! Six smiths sat and worked their war-spears. Out, spear! be not in, spear! If it still is there, the stick of iron, 20 The work of the witches, away it shall melt. If thou wert shot in the skin, or sore wounded in the flesh, If in the blood thou wert shot, or in the bone thou wert shot, [43] If in the joint thou wert shot, there will be no jeopardy to your life. If some deity shot it, or some devil shot it, 25 Or if some witch has shot it, now I am willing to help thee. This is a remedy for a deity’s shot; this is a remedy for a devil’s shot; This is a remedy for a witch’s shot. I am willing to help thee. Flee there into the forests . . . . . . . Be thou wholly healed. Thy help be from God.
30 Then take the knife and put it into the liquid.
1. The sudden stitch in the side (or rheumatic pain) is here thought of as coming from the arrows shot by the “mighty women”—the witches.
21-28. These irregular lines are imitated from the original.
[44]
RIDDLES
[Critical editions: Wyatt, Tupper, and Trautmann. Wyatt (Boston, 1912, Belles Lettres edition) used as a basis for these translations. His numbering is always one lower than the other editions, since he rejects one riddle.
Date: Probably eighth century for most of them.
For translations of other riddles than those here given see Brooke, English Literature from the Beginning to the Norman Conquest, Pancoast and Spaeth, Early English Poems, and Cook and Tinker, Selections from Old English Poetry.
There is no proof as to the authorship. There were probably one hundred of them in the original collection though only about ninety are left. Many of them are translations from the Latin. Some are true folk-riddles and some are learned.
In the riddles we find particulars of Anglo-Saxon life that we cannot find elsewhere. The Cambridge History of English Literature sums their effect up in the following sentence: “Furthermore, the author or authors of the Old English riddles borrow themes from native folk-songs and saga; in their hands inanimate objects become endowed with life and personality; the powers of nature become objects of worship such as they were in olden times; they describe the scenery of their own country, the fen, the river, and the sea, the horror of the untrodden forest, sun and moon engaged in perpetual pursuit of each other, the nightingale and the swan, the plow guided by the ‘gray-haired enemy of the wood,’ the bull breaking up clods left unturned by the plow, the falcon, the arm-companion of æthelings—scenes, events, characters familiar in the England of that day.”]
I. A Storm
What man is so clever, so crafty of mind, As to say for a truth who sends me a-traveling? When I rise in my wrath, raging at times, Savage is my sound. Sometimes I travel, 5 Go forth among the folk, set fire to their homes [45] And ravage and rob them; then rolls the smoke Gray over the gables; great is the noise, The death-struggle of the stricken. Then I stir up the woods And the fruitful forests; I fell the trees, 10 I, roofed over with rain, on my reckless journey, Wandering widely at the will of heaven. I bear on my back the bodily raiment, The fortunes of folk, their flesh and their spirits, Together to sea. Say who may cover me, 15 Or what I am called, who carry this burden?
1. Some scholars feel that the first three riddles, all of which describe storms, are in reality one, with three divisions. There is little to indicate whether the scribe thought of them as separate or not.
II. A Storm
At times I travel in tracks undreamed of, In vasty wave-depths to visit the earth, The floor of the ocean. Fierce is the sea . . . . . . . the foam rolls high; 5 The whale-pool roars and rages loudly; The streams beat the shores, and they sling at times Great stones and sand on the steep cliffs, With weeds and waves, while wildly striving Under the burden of billows on the bottom of ocean 10 The sea-ground I shake. My shield of waters I leave not ere he lets me who leads me always In all my travels. Tell me, wise man, Who was it that drew me from the depth of the ocean When the streams again became still and quiet, 15 Who before had forced me in fury to rage?
[46]
III. A Storm
At times I am fast confined by my Master, Who sendeth forth under the fertile plain My broad bosom, but bridles me in. He drives in the dark a dangerous power 5 To a narrow cave, where crushing my back Sits the weight of the world. No way of escape Can I find from the torment; so I tumble about The homes of heroes. The halls with their gables, The tribe-dwellings tremble; the trusty walls shake, 10 Steep over the head. Still seems the air Over all the country and calm the waters, Till I press in my fury from my prison below, Obeying His bidding who bound me fast In fetters at first when he fashioned the world, 15 In bonds and in chains, with no chance of escape From his power who points out the paths I must follow. Downward at times I drive the waves, Stir up the streams; to the strand I press The flint-gray flood: the foamy wave 20 Lashes the wall. A lurid mountain Rises on the deep; dark in its trail Stirred up with the sea a second one comes, And close to the coast it clashes and strikes On the lofty hills. Loud soundeth the boat, 25 The shouting of shipmen. Unshaken abide The stone cliffs steep through the strife of the waters, [47] The dashing of waves, when the deadly tumult Crowds to the coast. Of cruel strife The sailors are certain if the sea drive their craft 30 With its terrified guests on the grim rolling tide; They are sure that the ship will be shorn of its power, Be deprived of its rule, and will ride foam-covered On the ridge of the waves. Then ariseth a panic, Fear among folk of the force that commands me, 35 Strong on my storm-track. Who shall still that power? At times I drive through the dark wave-vessels That ride on my back, and wrench them asunder And lash them with sea-streams; or I let them again Glide back together. It is the greatest of noises, 40 Of clamoring crowds, of crashes the loudest, When clouds as they strive in their courses shall strike Edge against edge; inky of hue In flight o’er the folk bright fire they sweat, A stream of flame; destruction they carry 45 Dark over men with a mighty din. Fighting they fare. They let fall from their bosom A deafening rain of rattling liquid, Of storm from their bellies. In battle they strive, The awful army; anguish arises, 50 Terror of mind to the tribes of men, Distress in the strongholds, when the stalking goblins, The pale ghosts shoot with their sharp weapons. [48] The fool alone fears not their fatal spears; But he perishes too if the true God send 55 Straight from above in streams of rain, Whizzing and whistling the whirlwind’s arrows, The flying death. Few shall survive Whom that violent guest in his grimness shall visit. I always stir up that strife and commotion; 60 Then I bear my course to the battle of clouds, Powerfully strive and press through the tumult, Over the bosom of the billows; bursteth loudly The gathering of elements. Then again I descend In my helmet of air and hover near the land, 65 And lift on my back the load I must bear, Minding the mandates of the mighty Lord. So I, a tried servant, sometimes contend: Now under the earth; now from over the waves I drive to the depths; now dropping from heaven, 70 I stir up the streams, or strive to the skies, Where I war with the welkin. Wide do I travel, Swift and noisily. Say now my name, Or who raises me up when rest is denied me, Or who stays my course when stillness comes to me?
V. A Shield
A lonely warrior, I am wounded with iron, Scarred with sword-points, sated with battle-play, Weary of weapons. I have witnessed much fighting, Much stubborn strife. From the strokes of war 5 I have no hope for help or release [49] Ere I pass from the world with the proud warrior band. With brands and billies they beat upon me; The hard edges hack me; the handwork of smiths In crowds I encounter; with courage I endure 10 Ever bitterer battles. No balm may I find, And no doctor to heal me in the whole field of battle, To bind me with ointments and bring me to health, But my grievous gashes grow ever sorer Through death-dealing strokes by day and night.
VII. A Swan
My robe is noiseless when I roam the earth, Or stay in my home, or stir up the water. At times I am lifted o’er the lodgings of men By the aid of my trappings and the air above. 5 The strength of the clouds then carries me far, Bears me on its bosom. My beautiful ornament, My raiment rustles and raises a song, Sings without tiring. I touch not the earth But wander a stranger over stream and wood.
VIII. A Nightingale
With my mouth I am master of many a language; Cunningly I carol; I discourse full oft In melodious lays; loud do I call, Ever mindful of melody, undiminished in voice. 5 An old evening-scop, to earls I bring Solace in cities; when, skillful in music, [50] My voice I raise, restful at home They sit in silence. Say what is my name, That call so clearly and cleverly imitate 10 The song of the scop, and sing unto men Words full welcome with my wonderful voice.
XIV. A Horn
I was once an armed warrior. Now the worthy youth Gorgeously gears me with gold and silver, Curiously twisted. At times men kiss me. Sometimes I sound and summon to battle 5 The stalwart company. A steed now carries me Across the border. The courser of the sea Now bears me o’er the billows, bright in my trappings. Now a comely maiden covered with jewels Fills my bosom with beer. On the board now I lie 10 Lidless and lonely and lacking my trappings. Now fair in my fretwork at the feast I hang In my place on the wall while warriors drink. Now brightened for battle, on the back of a steed A war-chief shall bear me. Then the wind I shall breathe, 15 Shall swell with sound from someone’s bosom. At times with my voice I invite the heroes, The warriors to wine; or I watch for my master, And sound an alarm and save his goods, Put the robber to flight. Now find out my name.
8. Cosijn’s reading has been adopted for the first half line.
[51]
XV. A Badger
My throat is like snow, and my sides and my head Are a swarthy brown; I am swift in flight. Battle-weapons I bear; on my back stand hairs, And also on my cheeks. O’er my eyes on high 5 Two ears tower; with my toes I step On the green grass. Grief comes upon me If the slaughter-grim hunter shall see me in hiding, Shall find me alone where I fashion my dwelling, Bold with my brood. I abide in this place 10 With my strong young children till a stranger shall come And bring dread to my door. Death then is certain. Hence, trembling I carry my terrified children Far from their home and flee unto safety. If he crowds me close as he comes behind, 15 I bare my breast. In my burrow I dare not Meet my furious foe (it were foolish to do so), But, wildly rushing, I work a road Through the high hill with my hands and feet. I fail not in defending my family’s lives; 20 If I lead the little ones below to safety, Through a secret hole inside the hill, My beloved brood, no longer need I Fear the offense of the fierce-battling dogs. 25 Whenever the hostile one hunts on my trail, Follows me close, he will fail not of conflict, Of a warm encounter, when he comes on my war-path, [52] If I reach, in my rage, through the roof of my hill And deal my deadly darts of battle 30 On the foe I have feared and fled from long.
29. The “deadly darts of battle” have caused “porcupine” to be proposed as a solution to this riddle, though when all the details are considered “badger” seems on the whole the more reasonable.
XXIII. A Bow
My name is spelled AGOB with the order reversed. I am marvelously fashioned and made for fighting. When I am bent and my bosom sends forth Its poisoned stings, I straightway prepare 5 My deadly darts to deal afar. As soon as my master, who made me for torment, Loosens my limbs, my length is increased Till I vomit the venom with violent motions, The swift-killing poison I swallowed before. 10 Not any man shall make his escape, Not one that I spoke of shall speed from the fight, If there falls on him first what flies from my belly. He pays with his strength for the poisonous drink, For the fatal cup which forfeits his life. 15 Except when fettered fast, I am useless. Unbound I shall fail. Now find out my name.
XXVI. A Bible
A stern destroyer struck out my life, Deprived me of power; he put me to soak, [53] Dipped me in water, dried me again, And set me in the sun, where I straightway lost 5 The hairs that I had. Then the hard edge Of the keen knife cut me and cleansed me of soil; Then fingers folded me. The fleet quill of the bird With speedy drops spread tracks often Over the brown surface, swallowed the tree-dye, 10 A deal of the stream, stepped again on me, Traveled a black track. With protecting boards Then a crafty one covered me, enclosed me with hide, Made me gorgeous with gold. Hence I am glad and rejoice At the smith’s fair work with its wondrous adornments. 15 Now may these rich trappings, and the red dye’s tracings, And all works of wisdom spread wide the fame Of the Sovereign of nations! Read me not as a penance! If the children of men will cherish and use me, They shall be safer and sounder and surer of victory, 20 More heroic of heart and happier in spirit, More unfailing in wisdom. More friends shall they have, Dear and trusty, and true and good, And faithful always, whose honors and riches [54] Shall increase with their love, and who cover their friends 25 With kindness and favors and clasp them fast With loving arms. I ask how men call me Who aid them in need. My name is far famed. I am helpful to men, and am holy myself.
1. Here, of course, a “codex,” or manuscript of a Bible is in the writer’s mind. He describes first the killing of the animal and the preparation of the skin for writing. Then the writing and binding of the book is described. Last of all, the writer considers the use the book will be to men.
XLV. Dough
In a corner I heard a curious weak thing Swelling and sounding and stirring its cover. On that boneless body a beautiful woman Laid hold with her hands; the high-swelled thing She covered with a cloth, the clever lord’s daughter.
XLVII. A Bookworm
A moth ate a word. To me that seemed A curious happening when I heard of that wonder, That a worm should swallow the word of a man, A thief in the dark eat a thoughtful discourse 5 And the strong base it stood on. He stole, but he was not A whit the wiser when the word had been swallowed.
LX. A Reed
I stood on the strand to the sea-cliffs near, Hard by the billows. To the home of my birth Fast was I fixed. Few indeed are there [55] Of men who have ever at any time 5 Beheld my home in the hard waste-land. In the brown embrace of the billows and waves I was locked each dawn. Little I dreamed That early or late I ever should With men at the mead-feast mouthless speak forth 10 Words of wisdom. It is a wondrous thing, And strange to the sight when one sees it first That the edge of a knife and the active hand And wit of the earl who wields the blade Should bring it about that I bear unto thee 15 A secret message, meant for thee only, Boldly announce it, so that no other man May speak our secrets or spread them abroad.
1. This riddle occurs in the manuscript just before The Husband’s Message, and some editors think that in the riddle we have a proper beginning for the poem. First is the account of the growth of the reed, or block of wood, then the account of its voyages, and last the message conveyed. There is really no way of telling whether the poems were meant to go together.
[56]
EXETER GNOMES
[Critical edition: Blanche Colton Williams, Gnomic Poetry in Anglo-Saxon, New York, 1914.
There are two sets of gnomes or proverbs in Old English. The Exeter collection, from which these are taken, consists of three groups. The second group, which contains the justly popular lines about the Frisian wife, is typical of the whole set.]
Group II
All frost shall freeze, fire consume wood, Earth grow its fruits. Ice shall bridge water, Which shall carry its cover and cunningly lock 75 The herbs of earth. One only shall loose The fetter of frost, the Father Almighty. Winter shall away, the weather be fair, The sun hot in summer. The sea shall be restless. The deep way of death is the darkest of secrets. 80 Holly flames on the fire. Afar shall be scattered The goods of a dead man. Glory is best. A king shall with cups secure his queen, Buy her with bracelets. Both shall at first Be generous with gifts. Then shall grow in the man 85 The pride of war, and his wife shall prosper, Cherished by the folk; cheerful of mood, She shall keep all counsel and in kindness of heart Give horses and treasure; before the train of heroes With full measure of mead on many occasions [57] 90 She shall lovingly greet her gracious lord, Shall hold the cup high and hand him to drink Like a worthy wife. Wisely shall counsel The two who hold their home together. The ship shall be nailed, the shield be bound, 95 The light linden-wood. When he lands in the haven, To the Frisian wife is the welcome one dear: The boat is at hand and her bread-winner home, Her own provider. She invites him in And washes his sea-stained garments and gives him new ones to wear: 100 It is pleasant on land when the loved one awaits you. Woman shall be wedded to man, and her wickedness oft shall disgrace him; Some are firm in their faith, some forward and curious And shall love a stranger while their lord is afar. A sailor is long on his course, but his loved one awaits his coming, 105 Abides what can not be controlled, for the time will come at last For his home return, if his health permit, and the heaving waters High over his head do not hold him imprisoned.
[58]
THE FATES OF MEN
[Text: Grein-Wülcker, Bibliothek der Angelsächischen Poesie, iii, 148. The poem is typical of a large group of Old English poems which give well-known sayings or proverbs. Other poems of this group are The Gifts of Men, The Wonders of Creation, A Father’s Instructions to His Son, and the like.]
Full often through the grace of God it happens That man and wife to the world bring forth A babe by birth; they brightly adorn it, And tend it and teach it till the time comes on 5 With the passing of years when the young child’s limbs Have grown in strength and sturdy grace. It is fondled and fed by father and mother And gladdened with gifts. God alone knows What fate shall be his in the fast-moving years. 10 To one it chances in his childhood days To be snatched away by sudden death In woeful wise. The wolf shall devour him, The hoary heath-dweller. Heart-sick with grief, His mother shall mourn him; but man cannot change it. 15 One of hunger shall starve; one the storm shall drown. One the spear shall pierce; one shall perish in war. One shall lead his life without light in his eyes, [59] Shall feel his way fearing. Infirm in his step, One his wounds shall bewail, his woeful pains— 20 Mournful in mind shall lament his fate. One from the top of a tree in the woods Without feathers shall fall, but he flies none the less, Swoops in descent till he seems no longer The forest tree’s fruit: at its foot on the ground 25 He sinks in silence, his soul departed— On the roots now lies his lifeless body. One shall fare afoot on far-away paths, Shall bear on his back his burdensome load, Tread the dewy track among tribes unfriendly 30 Amid foreign foemen. Few are alive To welcome the wanderer. The woeful face Of the hapless outcast is hateful to men. One shall end life on the lofty gallows; Dead shall he hang till the house of his soul, 35 His bloody body is broken and mangled: His eyes shall be plucked by the plundering raven, The sallow-hued spoiler, while soulless he lies, And helpless to fight with his hands in defense Against the grim thief. Gone is his life. 40 With his skin plucked off and his soul departed, The body all bleached shall abide its fate; The death-mist shall drown him— doomed to disgrace. The body of one shall burn on the fire; The flame shall feed on the fated man, 45 And death shall descend full sudden upon him In the lurid glow. Loud weeps the mother [60] As her boy in the brands is burned to ashes. One the sword shall slay as he sits in the mead-hall Angry with ale; it shall end his life, 50 Wine-sated warrior: his words were too reckless! One shall meet his death through the drinking of beer, Maddened with mead, when no measure he sets To the words of his mouth through wisdom of mind; He shall lose his life in loathsome wise, 55 Shall shamefully suffer, shut off from joy, And men shall know him by the name of self-slayer, Shall deplore with their mouths the mead-drinker’s fall. One his hardships of youth through the help of God Overcomes and brings his burdens to naught, 60 And his age when it comes shall be crowned with joy; He shall prosper in pleasure, in plenty and wealth, With flourishing family and flowing mead— For such worthy rewards may one well wish to live! Thus many the fortunes the mighty Lord 65 All over the earth to everyone grants, Dispenses powers as his pleasure shall lead him. One is favored with fortune; one failure in life; One pleasure in youth; one prowess in war, The sternest of strife; one in striking and shooting 70 Earns his honors. And often in games One is crafty and cunning. A clerk shall one be, Weighted with wisdom. Wonderful skill [61] Is one granted to gain in the goldsmith’s art; Full often he decks and adorns in glory 75 A great king’s noble, who gives him rewards, Grants him broad lands, which he gladly receives. One shall give pleasure to people assembled On the benches at beer, shall bring to them mirth, Where drinkers are draining their draughts of joy. 80 One holding his harp in his hands, at the feet Of his lord shall sit and receive a reward; Fast shall his fingers fly o’er the strings; Daringly dancing and darting across, With his nails he shall pluck them. His need is great. 85 One shall make tame the towering falcon, The hawk on his hand, till the haughty bird Grows quiet and gentle; jesses he makes him, Feeds in fetters the feather-proud hawk, The daring air-treader with daintiest morsels, 90 Till the falcon performs the feeder’s will: Hooded and belled, he obeys his master, Tamed and trained as his teacher desires. Thus in wondrous wise the Warden of Glory Through every land has allotted to men 95 Cunning and craft; his decrees go forth To all men on earth of every race. For the graces granted let us give him thanks— For his manifold mercies to the men of earth.
[62]
3. ELEGIAC GROUP
THE WANDERER
[Text used: Kluge, Angelsächsisches Lesebuch. It is also given in Bright’s Anglo-Saxon Reader.
Alliterative translations: Edward Fulton, Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, vol. xii (1898); Pancoast and Spaeth, Early English Poems, p. 65.
Lines 77 ff. and 101 ff. have been compared to a passage in Keats’s Hyperion (book ii, 34-38).]
Often the lonely one longs for honors, The grace of God, though, grieved in his soul, Over the waste of the waters far and wide he shall Row with his hands through the rime-cold sea, 5 Travel the exile tracks: full determined is fate! So the wanderer spake, his woes remembering, His misfortunes in fighting and the fall of his kinsmen: “Often alone at early dawn I make my moan! Not a man now lives 10 To whom I can speak forth my heart and soul And tell of its trials. In truth I know well That there belongs to a lord an illustrious trait, To fetter his feelings fast in his breast, [63] To keep his own counsel though cares oppress him. 15 The weary in heart against Wyrd has no help Nor may the troubled in thought attempt to get aid. Therefore the thane who is thinking of glory Binds in his breast his bitterest thoughts. So I fasten with fetters, confine in my breast 20 My sorrows of soul, though sick oft at heart, In a foreign country far from my kinsmen. I long ago laid my loyal patron In sorrow under the sod; since then I have gone Weary with winter-care over the wave’s foamy track, 25 In sadness have sought a solace to find In the home and the hall of a host and ring-giver, Who, mindful of mercy in the mead-hall free, In kindness would comfort and care for me friendless, Would treat me with tenderness. The tried man knows 30 How stern is sorrow, how distressing a comrade For him who has few of friends and loved ones: He trails the track of the exile; no treasure he has, But heart-chilling frost— no fame upon earth. He recalls his comrades and the costly hall-gifts 35 Of his gracious gold-friend, which he gave him in youth To expend as he pleased: his pleasure has vanished! He who lacks for long his lord’s advice, [64] His love and his wisdom, learns full well How sorrow and slumber soothe together 40 The way-worn wanderer to welcome peace. He seems in his sleep to see his lord; He kisses and clasps him, and inclines on his knee His hands and his head as in happier days When he experienced the pleasure of his prince’s favors. 45 From his sleep then awakens the sorrowful wanderer; He sees full before him the fallow waves, The sea-birds bathing and beating their wings, Frost and snow falling with freezing hail. Then heavier grows the grief of his heart, 50 Sad after his dream; he sorrows anew. His kinsmen’s memory he calls to his mind, And eagerly greets it; in gladness he sees His valiant comrades. Then they vanish away. In the soul of a sailor no songs burst forth, 55 No familiar refrains. Fresh is his care Who sends his soul o’er the sea full oft, Over the welling waves his wearied heart. Hence I may not marvel, when I am mindful of life, That my sorrowing soul grows sick and dark, 60 When I look at the lives of lords and earls, How they are suddenly snatched from the seats of their power, In their princely pride. So passes this world, And droops and dies each day and hour; [65] And no man is sage who knows not his share 65 Of winter in the world. The wise man is patient, Not too hot in his heart, nor too hasty in words, Nor too weak in war, nor unwise in his rashness, Nor too forward nor fain, nor fearful of death, Nor too eager and arrogant till he equal his boasting. 70 The wise man will wait with his words of boasting Till, restraining his thoughts, he thoroughly knows Where his vain words of vaunting eventually will lead him. The sage man perceives how sorrowful it is When all the wealth of the world lies wasted and scattered. 75 So now over the earth in every land Stormed on by winds the walls are standing Rimy with hoar-frost, and the roofs of the houses; The wine-halls are wasted; far away are the rulers, Deprived of their pleasure. All the proud ones have fallen, 80 The warriors by the wall: some war has borne off, In its bloody embrace; some birds have carried Over the high seas; to some the hoar wolf Has dealt their death; some with dreary faces By earls have been exiled in earth-caves to dwell: 85 So has wasted this world through the wisdom of God, Till the proud one’s pleasure has perished utterly, And the old work of the giants stands worthless and joyless. [66] He who the waste of this wall-stead wisely considers, And looks down deep at the darkness of life, 90 Mournful in mind, remembers of old Much struggle and spoil and speaks these words: ‘Where are the horses? Where are the heroes? Where are the high treasure-givers? Where are the proud pleasure-seekers? Where are the palace and its joys? Alas the bright wine-cup! Alas the burnie-warriors! 95 Alas the prince’s pride! How passes the time Under the shadow of night as it never had been! Over the trusty troop now towers full high A wall adorned with wondrous dragons. The strength of the spear has destroyed the earls, 100 War-greedy weapons, Wyrd inexorable; And the storms strike down on the stony cliffs; The snows descend and seize all the earth In the dread of winter; then darkness comes And dusky night-shade. Down from the north 105 The hated hail-storms beat on heroes with fury. All on earth is irksome to man; Oft changes the work of the fates, the world under the firmament. Here treasure is fleeting; here true friends are fleeting; Here comrades are fleeting; here kinsmen are fleeting. 110 All idle and empty the earth has become.’ So says the sage one in mind, as he sits and secretly ponders. [67] Good is the man who is true to his trust; never should he betray anger, Divulge the rage of his heart till the remedy he knows That quickly will quiet his spirit. The quest of honor is a noble pursuit; 115 Glory be to God on high, who grants us our salvation!”
1. These opening lines are typical of the group of poems usually known as the “Elegies”—this and the next four poems in the book. It is probable that the poems of this group have no relation with one another save in general tone—a deep melancholy that, though present in the other old English poems is blackest in these.
15. Wyrd: the “Fate” of the Germanic peoples. The Anglo-Saxon’s life was overshadowed by the power of Wyrd, though Beowulf says that “a man may escape his Wyrd—if he be good enough.”
87. Ancient fortifications and cities are often referred to in Anglo-Saxon poetry as “the old work of the giants.”
[68]
THE SEAFARER
[Edition used: Kluge, Angelsächsisches Lesebuch.
Up to line 65 this is one of the finest specimens of Anglo-Saxon poetry. It expresses as few poems in English have done the spirit of adventure, the wanderlust of springtime. The author was a remarkable painter of the sea and its conditions. From line 65 to the end the poem consists of a very tedious homily that must surely be a later addition.
The use of the first person throughout and the opposing sentiments expressed have caused several scholars to consider the first part of the poem a dialogue between a young man eager to go to sea and an old sailor. The divisions of the speeches suggested have been as follows:
(By Hönncher) (By Kluge) (By Rieger)
1-33a Sailor 1-33 Sailor 1-38a Sailor
33b-38 Youth 34-64 or 66 Youth 33b-38 Youth
39-43 Sailor 39-47 Sailor
44-52 Youth 48-52 Youth
53-57 Sailor 53-57 Sailor
58-64a Youth 58-71 Youth
71-end Sailor
Sweet, in his Anglo-Saxon Reader, objects to these theories since there are not only no headings or divisions in the manuscript to indicate such divisions, but there are no breaks or contrasts in the poem itself.
“If we discard these theories,” he says, “the simplest view of the poem is that it is the monologue of an old sailor who first describes the hardships of the seafaring life, and then confesses its irresistible attraction, which he justifies, as it were, by drawing a parallel between the seafarer’s contempt for the luxuries of the life on land on the one hand and the aspirations of a spiritual nature on the other, of which the sea bird is to him the type. In dwelling on these ideals the poet loses sight of the seafarer and his half-heathen associations, and as inevitably rises to a contemplation of the cheering hopes of a future life afforded by Christianity.”
The dullness and obscurity of the last part of the poem, however, and the obvious similarity to the homilies of the time make it very unlikely that the whole poem was written by one author.]
I will sing of myself a song that is true, Tell of my travels and troublesome days, How often I endured days of hardship; [69] Bitter breast-care I have borne as my portion, 5 Have seen from my ship sorrowful shores, Awful welling of waves; oft on watch I have been On the narrow night-wakes at the neck of the ship, When it crashed into cliffs; with cold often pinched Were my freezing feet, by frost bound tight 10 In its blighting clutch; cares then burned me, Hot around my heart. Hunger tore within My sea-weary soul. To conceive this is hard For the landsman who lives on the lonely shore— How, sorrowful and sad on a sea ice-cold, 15 I eked out my exile through the awful winter . . . . . . . . deprived of my kinsmen, Hung about by icicles; hail flew in showers. There I heard naught but the howl of the sea, The ice-cold surge with a swan-song at times; 20 The note of the gannet for gayety served me, The sea-bird’s song for sayings of people, For the mead-drink of men the mew’s sad note. Storms beat on the cliffs, ’mid the cry of gulls, Icy of feather; and the eagle screamed, 25 The dewy-winged bird. No dear friend comes With merciful kindness my misery to conquer. Of this little can he judge who has joy in his life, And, settled in the city, is sated with wine, And proud and prosperous— how painful it is 30 When I wearily wander on the waves full oft! Night shadows descended; it snowed from the north; The world was fettered with frost; hail fell to the earth, [70] The coldest of corns. Yet course now desires Which surge in my heart for the high seas, 35 That I test the terrors of the tossing waves; My soul constantly kindles in keenest impatience To fare itself forth and far off hence To seek the strands of stranger tribes. There is no one in this world so o’erweening in power, 40 So good in his giving, so gallant in his youth, So daring in his deeds, so dear to his lord, But that he leaves the land and longs for the sea. By the grace of God he will gain or lose; Nor hearkens he to harp nor has heart for gift-treasures, 45 Nor in the wiles of a wife nor in the world rejoices. Save in the welling of waves no whit takes he pleasure; But he ever has longing who is lured by the sea. The forests are in flower and fair are the hamlets; The woods are in bloom, the world is astir: 50 Everything urges one eager to travel, Sends the seeker of seas afar To try his fortune on the terrible foam. The cuckoo warns in its woeful call; The summer-ward sings, sorrow foretelling, 55 Heavy to the heart. Hard is it to know For the man of pleasure, what many with patience Endure who dare the dangers of exile! In my bursting breast now burns my heart, [71] My spirit sallies over the sea-floods wide, 60 Sails o’er the waves, wanders afar To the bounds of the world and back at once, Eagerly, longingly; the lone flyer beckons My soul unceasingly to sail o’er the whale-path, Over the waves of the sea.
64. At this point the dull homiletic passage begins. Much of it is quite untranslatable. A free paraphrase may be seen in Cook and Tinker, Translations from Old English Poetry, p. 47.
[72]
THE WIFE’S LAMENT
[Text used: Kluge, Angelsächsisches Lesebuch, p. 146.
The meaning of some parts of this poem is very obscure—especially lines 18-21 and 42-47. No satisfactory explanation of them has been given. There is probably no relation except in general theme between it and The Husband’s Message.]
Sorrowfully I sing my song of woe, My tale of trials. In truth I may say That the buffets I have borne since my birth in the world Were never more than now, either new or old. 5 Ever the evils of exile I endure! Long since went my lord from the land of his birth, Over the welling waves. Woeful at dawn I asked Where lingers my lord, in what land does he dwell? Then I fared into far lands and faithfully sought him, 10 A weary wanderer in want of comfort. His treacherous tribesmen contrived a plot, Dark and dastardly, to drive us apart The width of a world, where with weary hearts We live in loneliness, and longing consumes me. 15 My master commanded me to make my home here. Alas, in this land my loved ones are few, My faithful friends! Hence I feel great sorrow [73] That the man well-matched with me I have found To be sad in soul and sorrowful in mind, 20 Concealing his thoughts and thinking of murder, Though blithe in his bearing. Oft we bound us by oath That the day of our death should draw us apart, Nothing less end our love. Alas, all is changed! Now is as naught, as if never it were, 25 Our faith and our friendship. Far and near I shall Endure the hate of one dear to my heart! He condemned me to dwell in a darksome wood, Under an oak-tree in an earth-cave drear. Old is the earth-hall. I am anxious with longing. 30 Dim are the dales, dark the hills tower, Bleak the tribe-dwellings, with briars entangled, Unblessed abodes. Here bitterly I have suffered The faring of my lord afar. Friends there are on earth Living in love, in lasting bliss, 35 While, wakeful at dawn, I wander alone Under the oak-tree the earth-cave near. Sadly I sit there the summer-long day, Wearily weeping my woeful exile, My many miseries. Hence I may not ever 40 Cease my sorrowing, my sad bewailing, Nor all the longings of my life of woe. Always may the young man be mournful of spirit, Unhappy of heart, and have as his portion Many sorrows of soul, unceasing breast-cares, 45 Though now blithe of behavior. Unbearable likewise [74] Be his joys in the world. Wide be his exile To far-away folk-lands where my friend sits alone, A stranger under stone-cliffs, by storm made hoary, A weary-souled wanderer, by waters encompassed, 50 In his lonely lodging. My lover endures Unmeasured mind-care: he remembers too oft A happier home. To him is fate cruel Who lingers and longs for the loved one’s return!
[75]
THE HUSBAND’S MESSAGE
[Text used: Kluge, Angelsächsisches Lesebuch.
The piece of wood on which the message is written speaks throughout the poem. It is impossible to tell whether the sender of the message is husband or lover of the woman addressed.
Some scholars consider the riddle on “The Reed,” number LX, as the true beginning of this poem. It precedes the “Message” in the manuscript. Hicketeir (Anglia, xi, 363) thinks that it does not belong with that riddle, but that it is itself a riddle. He cites the Runes, in lines 51-2, especially as evidence. Trautmann (Anglia xvi, 207) thinks that it is part of a longer poem, in which the puzzling relation would be straightened out.]
First I shall freely confide to you The tale of this tablet of wood. As a tree I grew up On the coast of Mecealde, close by the sea. Frequently thence to foreign lands 5 I set forth in travel, the salt streams tried In the keel of the ship at a king’s behest. Full oft on the bosom of a boat I have dwelt, Fared over the foam a friend to see, Wherever my master on a mission sent me, 10 Over the crest of the wave. I am come here to you On the deck of a ship and in duty inquire How now in your heart you hold and cherish The love of my lord. Loyalty unwavering I affirm without fear you will find in his heart. 15 The maker of this message commands me to bid thee, [76] O bracelet-adorned one, to bring to thy mind And impress on thy heart the promises of love That ye two in the old days often exchanged While at home in your halls unharmed you might still 20 Live in the land, love one another, Dwell in the same country. He was driven by feud From the powerful people. He prays now, most earnestly That you learn with delight you may launch on the sea-stream When from the height of the hill you hear from afar 25 The melancholy call of the cuckoo in the wood. Let not thereafter any living man Prevent thy voyage or prevail against it. Seek now the shore, the sea-mew’s home! Embark on the boat that bears thee south, 30 Where far over the foam thou shalt find thy lord,— Where lingers thy lover in longing and hope. In the width of the world not a wish or desire More strongly stirs him (he instructs me to say) Than that gracious God should grant you to live 35 Ever after at ease together, To distribute treasures to retainers and friends, To give rings of gold. Of gilded cups And of proud possessions a plenty he has, And holds his home far hence with strangers, 40 His fertile fields, where follow him many High-spirited heroes— though here my liege-lord, Forced by the fates, took flight on a ship [77] And on the watery waves went forth alone To fare on the flood-way: fain would he escape, 45 Stir up the sea-streams. By strife thy lord hath Won the fight against woe. No wish will he have For horses or jewels or the joys of mead-drinking, Nor any earl’s treasures on earth to be found, O gentle lord’s daughter, if he have joy in thee, 50 As by solemn vows ye have sworn to each other. I set as a sign S and R together, E, A, W, and D, as an oath to assure you That he stays for thee still and stands by his troth; And as long as he lives it shall last unbroken,— 55 Which often of old with oaths ye have plighted.
1-6. The text here is so corrupt that an almost complete reconstruction has been necessary.
51. In the manuscript these letters appear as runes. For illustrations of the appearance of runes, see the introductory note to “Cynewulf and his School,” p. 95, below. What these runes stood for, or whether they were supposed to possess unusual or magic power is purely a matter of conjecture.
[78]
THE RUIN
[Text used: Kluge, Angelsächsisches Lesebuch.
This description of a ruin with hot baths is generally assumed to be of the Roman city of Bath. The fact that the poet uses unusual words and unconventional lines seems to indicate that he wrote with his eye on the object.]
Wondrous is its wall-stone laid waste by the fates. The burg-steads are burst, broken the work of the giants. The roofs are in ruins, rotted away the towers, The fortress-gate fallen, with frost on the mortar. 5 Broken are the battlements, low bowed and decaying, Eaten under by age. The earth holds fast The master masons: low mouldering they lie In the hard grip of the grave, till shall grow up and perish A hundred generations. Hoary and stained with red, 10 Through conquest of kingdoms, unconquered this wall endured, Stood up under storm. The high structure has fallen. Still remains its wall-stone, struck down by weapons. They have fallen . . . . . . . . . Ground down by grim fate . . . . . . . . [79] 15 Splendidly it shone . . . . . . . . The cunning creation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . from its clay covering is bent; Mind . . . . . . the swift one drawn. The bold ones in counsel bound in rings 19 The wall-foundations with wires, wondrously together. 20 Bright were the burgher’s homes, the bath halls many, Gay with high gables —a great martial sound, Many mead-halls, where men took their pleasure, Till an end came to all, through inexorable fate. The people all have perished; pestilence came on them: 25 Death stole them all, the staunch band of warriors. Their proud works of war now lie waste and deserted; This fortress has fallen. Its defenders lie low, Its repairmen perished. Thus the palace stands dreary, And its purple expanse; despoiled of its tiles 30 Is the roof of the dome. The ruin sank to earth, Broken in heaps —there where heroes of yore, Glad-hearted and gold-bedecked, in gorgeous array, Wanton with wine-drink in war-trappings shone: They took joy in jewels and gems of great price, 35 In treasure untold and in topaz-stones, In the firm-built fortress of a far-stretching realm. The stone courts stood; hot streams poured forth, Wondrously welled out. The wall encompassed all [80] In its bright embrace. Baths were there then, 40 Hot all within —a healthful convenience. They let then pour . . . . . . . . . . Over the hoary stones the heated streams, Such as never were seen by our sires till then. Hringmere was its name . . . . . . . . . . 45 The baths were there then; then is . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . That is a royal thing In a house . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .