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Table of Contents | |
Section | Page |
Start of eBook | 1 |
Title: Andreas: The Legend of St. Andrew | 1 |
ERRATA. | 1 |
PREFACE | 1 |
INTRODUCTION | 2 |
THE LEGEND OF ST. ANDREW | 7 |
PROOFREADER’S COMMENTS | 37 |
Author: Unknown
Release Date: March 1, 2005 [EBook #15225]
Language: English
Character set encoding: Ascii
*** Start of this project gutenberg EBOOK Andreas: The legend of st. Andrew ***
Produced by S.R.Ellison, David Starner, and the Online
Distributed
Proofreading Team.
Yale studies in English
Albert S. Cook, editor
VII
Andreas:
The legend of st. Andrew
Translated from the old English
By
Robert Kilburn Root
New York
Henry Holt and company
1899
p. IV. For Angelsaechsen read Angelsachsen.
p. V. " Fritsche " Fritzsche.
p. IX. " homilest " homilist.
p. 18, 1. 550. " has " hast.
p. 27, 1. 835. " ’Till " Till.
P. 57. " Siever’s " Sievers’.
It is always a somewhat hardy undertaking to attempt the translation of poetry, for such a translation will at the best be but a shadow of that which it would fain represent. Yet I trust that even an imperfect rendering of one of the best of the Old English poems will in some measure contribute towards a wider appreciation of our earliest literature, for the poem is accessible to the general reader only in the baldly literal and somewhat inaccurate translation of Kemble, published in 1843, and now out of print.
I have chosen blank verse as the most suitable metre for the translation of a long and dignified narrative poem, as the metre which can most nearly reproduce the strength, the nobility, the variety and rapidity of the original. The ballad measure as used by Lumsden in his translation of Beowulf is monotonous and trivial, while the measure used by Morris and others, and intended as an imitation of the Old English alliterative measure, is wholly impracticable. It is a hybrid product, neither Old English nor modern, producing both weariness and disgust; for, while copying the external features of its original, it loses wholly its aesthetic qualities.
In my diction I have sought after simple and idiomatic English, studying the noble archaism of the King James Bible, rather than affecting the Wardour Street dialect of William Morris or Professor Earle, which is often utterly unintelligible to any but the special student of Middle English. My translation is faithful, but not literal; I have not hesitated to make a passive construction active, or to translate a compound adjective by a phrase. To quote from King Alfred’s preface to his translation of Boethius, I have “at times translated word by word, and at times sense by sense, in whatsoever way I might most clearly and intelligibly interpret it.”
The text followed is that of Grein-Wuelker in the Bibliothek der Angelsaechsischen Poesie (Leipzig, 1894), and the lines of my translation are numbered according to that edition. I have not, however, felt obliged to follow his punctuation. Where it has seemed best to adopt other readings, I have mentioned the fact in my notes.
I have compared my translation with those of Kemble and Grein (Dichtungen der Angelsaechsen), and am occasionally indebted to them for a word or a phrase.
It gives me great pleasure to acknowledge my indebtedness to Dr. Frank H. Chase, who has very carefully read my translation in manuscript; and to Professor Albert S. Cook, who has given me his help and advice at all stages of my work from its inception to its publication. To Mr. Charles G. Osgood, Jr., I am also indebted for valuable criticism.
Robert Kilburn Root.
Yale University,
April 7, 1899.
[Sidenote: The Manuscript.]
While traveling in Italy during the year 1832, Dr. Blume, a German scholar, discovered in the cathedral library at Vercelli an Old English manuscript containing both poetry and prose. The longest and the best of the poems is the Andreas, or Legend of St. Andrew.
How did this manuscript find its way across the Alps into a country where its language was wholly unintelligible? Several theories have been advanced, the most plausible being that advocated by Cook.[1] According to this view it was carried thither by Cardinal Guala, who during the reign of Henry III was prior of St. Andrew’s, Chester. On his return to Italy he built the monastery of St. Andrew in Vercelli, strongly English in its architecture. Since the manuscript contained a poem about St. Andrew, it would have been an appropriate gift to St. Andrew’s Church in Vercelli. Wuelker’s theory that it was owned by an Anglo-Saxon hospice at Vercelli rests on very shadowy arguments, since he adduces no satisfactory proof that such a hospice ever existed.
[Footnote 1: Cardinal Guala and the Vercelli Book, Univ. of Cal. Library Bulletin No. 10. Sacramento, 1888.]
[Sidenote: Authorship and Date.]
On the strength of certain marked similarities of style and diction to the signed poems of Cynewulf, the earlier editors of the Andreas assigned the poem to him, and were followed by Dietrich, Grein, and Ten Brink. But Fritsche (Anglia II), arguing from other equally marked dissimilarities, denies its Cynewulfian authorship, and is sustained in his position by Sievers, though vigorously opposed by Ramhorst. More recently Trautman (Anglia, Beiblatt VI. 17) reasserts the older view, declaring his belief that the Fates of the Apostles, in which Napier has discovered the runic signature of Cynewulf, is but the closing section of the Andreas. There is much to be said in favor of this last theory, which would establish Cynewulf as the author of the entire work; but the whole question is far from being settled. We can at least affirm that the author was a devout churchman and a dweller by the sea, thoroughly acquainted with the poems of Cynewulf.
It is equally impossible to determine with any certainty the date of authorship, since the poem is wholly lacking in contemporary allusions. Nor can we base any argument upon its language, since, in all probability, its present form is but a West Saxon transcript of an older Northumbrian or Mercian version. If Cynewulf flourished in the eighth century, the date of the Andreas is probably not much later. The Vercelli manuscript is assigned to the first half of the eleventh century.
[Sidenote: Sources.]
Fortunately we can speak with more assurance about the sources of the poem. It follows closely, though not slavishly, the Acts of Andrew and Matthew, contained in the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles.[1] Like the great English poets of the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries, the poet of the Andreas has borrowed his story from a foreign source, and like them he has added and altered until he has made it thoroughly his own and thoroughly English. We can learn from it the tastes and ideals of our Anglo-Saxon forefathers quite as well as from a poem wholly original in its composition. Most clearly do we discover their love of the sea. The action of the story brings in a voyage, which the Greek narrative dismisses with a few words, merely as a piece of necessary machinery. The Old English poem, on the contrary, expands the incident into many lines. A storm is introduced and described with great vigor; we see the circling gull and the darting horn-fish; we hear the creaking of the ropes and the roaring of the waves.[2] Every mention of the sea is dwelt upon with lingering affection, and described with vivid metaphor. It is now the “bosom of the flood,” now the “whale-road” or the “fish’s bath.” Again it is the “welter of the waves,” or its more angry mood is personified as the “Terror of the waters.” In the first 500 lines alone there are no less than 43 different words and phrases denoting the sea.
[Footnote 1: Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha, ed. Tischendorf. Leipzig, 1851, pp. 132-166. (For a translation of part of the Acts of Andrew and Matthew, see Cook’s First Book in Old English, Appendix III.)]
[Footnote 2: See 369-381.]
Daybreak and sunset, too, are described with much beauty, and in one passage at least with strong imagination. We can have no doubt that the poet was a close watcher and keen lover of nature. We can imagine him walking on the cliffs beside his beloved ocean, watching for the sunrise, rejoicing in the glory of the sky,
As heaven’s candle shone across the floods.[1]
[Footnote 1: See 243.]
I have said, too, that he was a devout churchman. Many of the noble hymns and prayers with which the poem abounds are largely original, expanded from a mere line or two in the Greek. Many and beautiful are the epithets or kennings which he applies to God, taken in part from the Bible, and in part from the imagery of the not wholly extinct heathen mythology.
Thoroughly English is his love of violent action,
of war and bloodshed.
Andrew is a “warrior brave in the battle”;
the apostles are
Thanes of the Lord, whose courage for
the fight
Failed never, e’en when helmets
crashed in war.
and their missions are rather military expeditions
than peaceful
pilgrimages.
One concrete example will serve well to show in what spirit the author has dealt with his original. The disciples of Andrew are so terrified by the sea that the Lord (disguised as a shipmaster) suggests that they shall go ashore and await the return of their master. In the Greek the disciples answer: “If we leave thee, then shall we be strangers to those good things which the Lord hath promised unto us. Therefore will we abide with thee, wherever thou go."[1] In the Old English :—
O whither shall we turn us, lordless men,
Mourning in heart, forsaken quite by God,
Wounded with sin, if we abandon thee?
We shall be odious in every land,
Hated of every folk, when sons of men,
Courageous warriors, in council sit,
And question which of them did best stand
by
His lord in battle, when the hand and
shield,
Worn out by broadswords on the battle-plain,
Suffered sore danger in the sport of war.
(405-414.)
[Footnote 1: Bede, Hist. Eccl. IV. 2.]
There is in the Greek no trace of the Teutonic idea of loyalty to a lord, which is the ruling motive of the Old English lines.
But did the poet read the legend in the Greek? The study of that language had, it is true, been introduced into England in the seventh century by Archbishop Theodore[1], but we can hardly assume that this study was very general. Moreover, there are several important variations between the poem and the Acts of Andrew and Matthew, facts wanting in the Greek, which the poet could not possibly have invented. For example, the poem states that Andrew was in Achaia when he received the mission to Mermedonia. In the Greek we find no mention of Achaia, nor is the name “Mermedonia” given at all. After the conversion of the Mermedonians, the poet says that Andrew appointed a bishop over them, whose name was Platan. Again the Greek is silent. There is, however, an Old English homily[1] of unknown authorship and uncertain date, which contains these three facts, (though the name of the bishop is not given). Still another remarkable coincidence has been pointed out by Zupitza.[2] In line 1189 of the Andreas, Satan is addressed as d[=e]ofles str[=ae]l ("shaft of the devil"), and in the homily also the same word (str[=ae]l) is found. But in the corresponding passage of the Greek we find [Greek: O Belia echthrotate] ("O most hateful Belial"). From this correspondence between the poem and the homily, Zupitza argues the existence of a Latin translation of the Greek, from which both the Andreas and the homily were made, assuming that the ignorant Latinist confused [Greek: Belia] (Belial) with [Greek: Belos] ("arrow,” “shaft,"), translating it by telum or sagitta. It is hardly probable that both the poet and the homilest should have made the same mistake.
[Footnote 1: Bright, Anglo-Saxon Reader, pp. 113-128.]
[Footnote 2: Zeitschrift fuer Deutsches Altertum, XXX. 175.]
The homily could not have been drawn from the poem, nor the poem from the homily, for in each we find facts and phrases of the Greek not contained in the other. For example, both in the Greek and in the homily, the flood which sweeps away the Mermedonians proceeds from the mouth of an alabaster image standing upon a pillar, while in the poem it springs forth from the base of the pillar itself. On the other hand, most of the dialogue between Andrew and the Lord on shipboard, as well as other important incidents, are wanting in the homily.
Summing up, then, we have the homily and the poem agreeing in some important points in which both differ from the Greek, but so dissimilar in other points that neither could have been the source of the other. In the light of these similarities and variations, and of others which space prevents me from mentioning, we must suppose the homily to have been taken from an abridgment of the Latin version, of which the poet saw a somewhat corrupt copy. It is also not improbable that this Latin version may have been made from a Greek manuscript varying in some details from the legend as it appears in Tischendorf’s edition. This view is sustained by a Syrian translation, which in some respects agrees with our hypothetical Latin version. But this Latin version has never been discovered, though some fragments of the legend are found in the Latin of Pseudo-Abdias and the Legenda Aurea,[1] which curiously enough supply several of the facts missing in the Greek, namely, that Andrew was teaching in Achaia, and that the land of the Anthropophagi was called Mermedonia.
[Footnote 1: Grimm, Andreas und Elene, XIII-XVI.]
So much for the sources of the poem as a whole. The poet is also deeply indebted to the Beowulf and to the poems of Cynewulf (unless he be Cynewulf himself) for lines and phrases throughout his work. One example of this borrowing will suffice. In line 999, when Andrew reaches the prison, we read (translating literally): “The door quickly opened at the touch of the holy saint’s hand.” In the Greek: “And he made the sign of the cross upon the door, and it opened of its own accord.” Why has the poet omitted the sign of the cross? We are unable to answer until we read in the Beowulf (721) that at the coming of the monster Grendel to Heorot “the door quickly opened ... soon as he touched it with his hands.”
[Sidenote: The Poem as a Work of Art.]
How shall we rank the Legend of St. Andrew among the other poems of the Anglo-Saxons? and what are its chief merits as a work of art? The Old English epics may be divided into two general classes: the heroic epic, of which the Beowulf is the chief example; and the larger group of religious epics, including the poems of Cynewulf, of Pseudo-Caedmon, the Judith, and the Andreas.
In spite of occasional Christian interpolations the Beowulf is essentially pagan, the expression of English sentiments and ideals before Augustine led his little band of chanting monks through the streets of Canterbury. In the Andreas we see better, perhaps, than in any of the religious epics, these same sentiments and ideals softened and ennobled by the sweet spirit of the Christian religion. We see the conversion of England in the very process of its accomplishment. We see the beauties of Paganism and those of Christianity blending with each other, much as the Medieval and the Renaissance are blended in Spenser. In the one aspect Andrew is the valiant hero, like Beowulf, crossing the sea to accomplish a mighty deed of deliverance; in the other he is the saintly confessor, the patient sufferer, whose whole trust is in the Lord.
If we compare the poem with the other epics of its class, its most formidable competitors are the anonymous Judith and Cynewulf’s Christ. But Judith, though unquestionably more brilliant, is but a fragment of 350 lines, and the Christ, in spite of its many beautiful passages, is entirely lacking in movement. The Andreas is complete, and, if we except the long dialogue of Andrew and the Lord at sea, moves steadily towards the end with considerable variety of action. If the characterization is crude, the descriptions are vivid, the speeches are often vigorous, and the treatment of nature is throughout charming. It seems to me eminently suited by its subject and manner to stand as an example of the Old English religious epic, an example of a form of literature with which every serious student of our English poetry should be familiar. For English literature does not begin with Chaucer. He who would understand it well must know it also in its purer English form before the coming of the Normans.
[Sidenote: The Argument.]
It only remains to give a brief synopsis of the poem. It has fallen to the lot of Matthew to preach the Gospel to the cannibal Mermedonians; they seize him and his company, binding him and casting him into prison, where he is to remain until his turn comes to be eaten (1-58). He prays to God for help, and the Lord sends Andrew to deliver him (59-234). Andrew and his disciples come to the seashore and find a bark with three seamen, who are in reality the Lord and His two angels. On learning that Andrew is a follower of Jesus, the shipmaster agrees to carry him to Mermedonia (234-359). A storm arises, at which the disciples of Andrew are greatly terrified; he reminds them how Christ stilled the tempest, and they fall asleep (360-464). A dialogue ensues, in which Andrew relates to the shipmaster many of Christ’s miracles (465-817). He falls asleep, and is carried by the angels to Mermedonia. On awaking, he beholds the city, and his disciples sleeping beside him. They relate to him a vision which they had seen.
Lo! we have learned of Twelve in days
gone by,
Who dwelt beneath the stars, in glory
rich,
Thanes of the Lord, whose courage for
the fight
Failed never, e’en when helmets
crashed in war,
From that time when they portioned each
his place,
As God himself declared to them by lot,
High King of heaven above. Renowned
men
Were they through all the earth, and leaders
bold,
Brave in the battle, warriors of might,
When shield and hand the helmet did protect
10
Upon the field of fate. Of that brave
band
Was Matthew one, who first among the Jews
Began to write the Gospel down in words
With wondrous power. To him did Holy
God
Assign his lot upon that distant isle
Where never yet could any outland man
Enjoy a happy life or find a home.
Him did the murderous hands of bloody
men
Upon the field of battle oft oppress
Right grievously. That country all
about,
The folkstead of the men, was compassed
With slaughter and with foemen’s
treachery, 20
That home of heroes. Dwellers in
that land
Had neither bread nor water to enjoy,
But on the flesh and blood of stranger
men,
Come from afar, that people made their
feast.
This was their custom: every foreigner
Who visited that island from without
They seized as food—these famine-stricken
men.
This was the cruel practice of that folk,
Mighty in wickedness, most savage foes:
30
With javelin points they poured upon the
ground
The jewel of the head, the eyes’
clear sight;
And after brewed for them a bitter draught—
These wizards by their magic—drink
accursed,
Which led astray the wits of hapless men,
The heart within their breasts, until
they grieved
No longer for the happiness of men;
Weary for food they fed on hay and grass.
When to this far-famed city
Matthew came, 40
There rose great outcry through the sinful
tribe,
That cursed throng of Mermedonians.
Soon as those servants of the Devil learned
The noble saint was come unto their land,
They marched against him, armed with javelins;
Under their linden-shields they went in
haste,
Grim bearers of the lance, to meet the
foe.
They bound his hands; with foeman’s
cunning skill
They made them fast—those warriors
doomed to hell— 50
With swords they pierced the jewel of
his head.
Yet in his heart he honored Heaven’s
King,
Though of the drink envenomed he had drunk,
Of virtue terrible; steadfast and glad,
With courage unabashed, he worshiped still
The Prince of glory, King of heaven above;
And from the prison rose his holy voice.
Within his noble breast the praise of
Christ
Stood fast imprinted; weeping tears of
woe,
With sorrowful voice of mourning he addressed
60
His Lord victorious, speaking thus in
words:—
“Behold how these fierce strangers
knit for me
A chain of mischief, an ensnaring net.
Ever have I been zealous in my heart
To do Thy will in all things; now in grief
The life of the dumb cattle I must lead.
Thou, Lord, alone, Creator of mankind,
Dost know the hidden thoughts of every
heart.
O Prince of glory, if it be thy will
70
That with the sword’s keen edge
perfidious men
Put me at rest, I am prepared straightway
To suffer whatsoever Thou, my Lord,
Who givest bliss to that high angel-band,
Shalt send me as my portion in this world,
A homeless wanderer, O Lord of hosts.
In mercy grant to me, Almighty God,
Light in this life, lest, blinded in this
town
By hostile swords, I needs must longer
bear
Reviling words, the grievous calumny
Of slaughter-greedy men, of hated foes.
80
On Thee alone, Protector of the world,
I fix my mind, my heart’s unfailing
love;
So, Father of the angels, Lord of hosts,
Bright Giver of all bliss, to Thee I pray,
That Thou appoint me not among my foes,
Artificers of wrong forever damned,
The death most grievous on this earth
of Thine.”
After these words there came
to his dark cell
A sacred sign all-glorious from heaven,
Like to the shining sun; then was it shown
90
That holy God was working aid for him.
The voice of Heaven’s Majesty was
heard,
The music of the glorious Lord’s
sweet words,
Wondrous beneath the skies. To His
true thane
Brave in the fight, in dungeon harsh confined,
He promised help and comfort with clear
voice:—
“Matthew, My peace on earth I give
to thee;
Let not thy heart be troubled, neither
mourn
Too much in mind; I will abide with thee,
And I will loose thee from these bonds
Exalted high was Matthew at
the voice
New-heard. The veil of darkness slipped
away,
Vanished in haste; and straightway came
the light,
The murmuring sound of early reddening
dawn.
The host assembled; heathen warriors
Thronged in great crowds; their battle-armor
sang;
Their spears they brandished, angry in
their hearts,
Under the roof of shields; they fain would
see
Whether those hapless men were yet alive,
Who fast in chains within their prison-walls
130
Had dwelt a while in comfortless abode,
And which one they might first for their
repast
Rob of his life after the time ordained.
They had set down, those slaughter-greedy
foes,
In runic characters and numerals
The death-day of those men, when they
should serve
As food unto that famine-stricken tribe.
Then clamored loudly that cold-hearted
brood;
Throng pressed on throng; their cruel
counsellors
Recked not at all of mercy or of right.
Oft did their souls, led by the devil’s
lore, 140
Under the dusky shadows penetrate,
When in the might of beings ever-cursed
They put their trust. They found
that holy man,
Prudent of mind, within his prison dark,
Awaiting bravely what the radiant King,
Creator of the angels, should vouchsafe.
Then was accomplished, all except three
nights,
The appointed time, the season foreordained,
Which those fierce wolves of war had written
down,
At end of which they planned to break
his bones, 150
And, parting straight his body and his
soul,
To portion out as food to old and young
The body of the slain, a welcome feast;
They cared not for the soul, those greedy
men,
How after death the spirit’s pilgrimage
Might be decreed. So every thirty
nights
They held their feast; most fierce was
their desire
Where in Achaia holy Andrew
dwelt,
Guiding his people in the way of life,
170
A voice was heard from out the heavens
above.
To him, that steadfast saint, the Lord
of hosts,
Glory of kings, Creator of mankind,
Unlocked the treasure of His heart, and
thus
In words He spake:—“Thou
shalt go forth and bear
My peace, and journeying shalt fare where
men,
Devourers of their kind, possess the land,
And hold their home secure by murderous
might.
This is the custom of that multitude:
Within their land they spare no stranger’s
life,
But when those evil-doers chance to find
A helpless wight in Mermedonia,
180
Death must be dealt and cruel murder done.
I know that ’mongst those townsmen,
fast in chains,
Thy brother dwells, that saint victorious.
It lacks but three nights of the time
ordained,
When, midst that people, by the hard-gripped
spear,
In struggle with the heathens, he must
needs
Send forth his soul all ready to depart;
Unless thou come before the appointed
time.”
Straightway did Andrew answer
him again:
“My Lord, how can I o’er the
ocean deep 190
My course accomplish, to that distant
shore,
As speedily as Thou, O King of glory,
Creator of the heavens, dost command?
That road thine angel can more easily
Traverse from heaven; he knows the watery
ways,
The salt sea-streams, the wide path of
the swan,
The battle of the surf against the shore,
The terror of the waters, and the tracks
Across the boundless land. These
foreign men
Are not my trusty friends, nor do I know
In any wise the counsels of this folk;
200
To me the cold sea-highways are unknown.”
Him answered then the everliving
Lord:—
“Alas, O Andrew, that thou shouldst
be slow
To undertake this journey, since for God,
Almighty One, it were not hard to bring
That city hither, ’neath the circling
sun,
Unto this country, o’er the ways
of earth—
The princely city famous, with its men—
If He, the Lord of Glory, with a word
210
Should bid it. So thou mayst not
hesitate
To undertake this journey, nor art thou
Too weak in wit, if thou but keepest well
The faithful covenant with thy Lord.
Be thou
Prepared against the hour, for there can
be
No tarrying on this errand. Thou
shalt go
And bear thy life into the grasp of men
Full violent, where ’gainst thee
[Footnote 1: Lit. “bath-road.”]
So at the dawning, when the
day first broke,
He gat him o’er the sand-downs to
the sea,
Valiant in heart, and with him went his
thanes
To walk upon the shingle, where the waves
Loud thundered, and the streams of ocean
beat
Against the shore. Full glad was
that brave saint
To see upon the sands a galley fair
240
Wide-bosomed. Then, behold, resplendent
dawn,
Brightest of beacons, came upon her way,
Hasting from out the murky gloom of night,
And heaven’s candle shone across
the floods.
Three seamen saw he there, a glorious
band,
Courageous men, upon their ocean-bark
Sitting all ready to depart, like men
Just come across the deep. The Lord
himself
It was, the everlasting Lord of hosts,
Almighty, with His holy angels twain.
In raiment they were like seafaring men,
250
These heroes, like to wanderers on the
waves,
When in the flood’s embrace they
sail with ships
Upon the waters cold to distant lands.
Then he who stood there, eager,
on the shore,
Upon the shingle, greeted him and said:—
“Whence come ye, men in seamanship
expert,
Seafaring on your ocean-coursing bark,
Your lonely ship? whence has the ocean-stream
Wafted you o’er the welter of the
waves?”
Then answered him again Almighty
God, 260
In such wise that the saint who heard
His words
Wist not what one of speaking men it was
With whom he was conversing on the strand.
“From the land of Mermedonia are
we come,
Borne hither from afar; our high-prowed
ship
Carried us o’er the whale’s
road with the flood,
Our sea-horse fleet, all girt about with
speed,
Until we reached the country of this folk,
Sea-beaten, as the wind did drive us on.”
Then Andrew humbly answered
him again:— 270
“I fain would beg thee, though but
little store
Of jewels or of treasure I can give,
That thou wouldst bring us in thy lofty
ship,
Over the ocean[1] on thy high-beaked boat,
Unto that people; thou shalt meed receive
From God, if kindness thou but show to
us
Upon our journey.”
[Footnote 1: Lit. “whale’s home.”]
The
Defense of kings,
Maker of angels, answered from His ship:—
“Wide-faring foreigners can never
dwell
There in that country, nor enjoy the land;
280
But in that city they must suffer death
Who thither bring their lives from distant
shores.
And dost thou wish to traverse the wide
main,
That thou mayst spill thy life in bitter
war?”
To him did Andrew answer give again:—
“Our hearts’ strong hope and yearning drives us forth
To seek that country and that far-famed town,
If thou, most noble sir, wilt show to us
Thy gracious kindness on the wave-tossed deep.”
Then from His vessel’s
prow, the angels’ Lord, 290
The Savior of mankind, replied to him:—
“Gladly and freely we will carry
thee
Across the ocean[1], e’en to that
far land
Which thy desire doth urge thee so to
seek,
When thou shalt give us the accustomed
sum,
Thy passage-money; so upon our bark
We seamen will grant honor unto you.”
[Footnote 1: Lit. “fish’s bath.”]
Then straightway Andrew spake
to him in words,
That friendless saint:—“I
have no beaten gold, 300
No treasures, neither wealth nor sustenance,
No golden clasps, no land, nor bracelets
woven,
That thy desire I now may satisfy,
Thy worldly wishes, as thou sayst in words.”
The Prince of Men gave answer where He
sat
Upon the gangway, o’er the dashing
surge:—
“How comes it thou wouldst visit,
my dear friend,
The sea-hills, boundaries of the ocean-streams,
To seek a vessel by the cold sea-cliffs
310
All penniless? Hast thou no store
of bread
To comfort thee upon the ocean-road,
Or pure drink for thy thirst? The
life is hard
For him who journeys far upon the flood.”
In answer then did Andrew,
wise in wit,
Unlock to him the treasure of his words:—
“It is not seemly that with arrogance
And words of taunting thou demand reply,
When God hath given thee abundant wealth
And worldly fortune; better for each man
320
That with humility he kindly greet
A traveler bound to other lands far off,
As Christ commanded, Lord most glorious.
We are His thanes, chosen as champions;
He is the King by right, Author and Lord
Of wondrous glory, one eternal God
Of all created things; by His sole might
He comprehendeth all the heavens and earth
With holy strength, Giver of victory.
He spake the word himself, and bade us
fare 330
Throughout the spacious earth, converting
souls:—
’Go now to all the corners of the
earth,
Far as the waters compass it about,
Far as the meadows lie along the roads,
And preach the glorious Faith throughout
The Lord eternal answered him again:—
“If ye are thanes of Him who did exalt
His glory o’er the world, as ye declare,
And ye have kept the Holy One’s commands,
I’ll gladly bear you o’er the ocean-streams,
As ye do beg me.”
Then
upon the bark
They went, bold, valiant men; the heart
of each 350
Was filled with joy upon the tossing main.
Then Andrew, on the rolling of the waves,
Begged for that seaman mercy from the
King
Who rules in glory; thus he spake in words:—
“May God, the Lord of men, give
unto thee
Exceeding honor—happiness on
earth,
Riches in glory—since thou
hast made known
Thy goodness to me on my journeying!”
He sat him by the Guardian of the sea,
That noble saint beside his noble Lord.
I never heard men tell of comelier ship
360
Laden with sumptuous treasures. In
it sat
Great heroes, glorious lords, and beauteous
thanes.
Then spake the ever-living noble Lord,
Almighty King; he bade his angel go,
His glorious retainer, go and give
Meat to the desolate to comfort him
Upon the seething flood, that he might
bear
The life upon the rushing of the waves
With greater ease. Then was the ocean[1]
stirred
And deeply troubled, then the horn-fish
played, 370
Shot through the raging deep; the sea-gull
gray,
Greedy for slaughter, flew in circling
flight.
The candle of the sky grew straightway
dark,
The winds waxed strong, the waves whirled,
and the surge
Leapt high, the ropes creaked, dripping
with the waves;
The Terror of the waters rose, and stood
Above them with the might of multitudes.
The thanes were sore afraid, not one of
them
Dared hope that he would ever reach the
land,
Of those who by the sea had sought a ship
With Andrew, for as yet they did not know
380
Who pointed out the course for that sea-bark.
[Footnote 1: Lit. “whale-sea.”]
When he had eaten, then the
faithful thane,
Saint Andrew, thanked the noble Counselor,
Upon the ocean, on the oar-swept sea:—
“For this repast may God, the righteous
Lord,
Ruler of hosts, who sheds the light of
life,
Grant thee reward, and give thee for thy
food
The bread of heaven, e’en as thou
hast shown
Good will and kindness to me on the deep.
390
My thanes, these warriors young, are sore
afraid;
Loud roars the raging, overwhelming sea;
Then spake the noble Lord,
the faithful King;
Straightway He lifted up His voice and
said:—
“If, as thou sayst, thou art indeed
a thane
Of Him who sits enthroned in majesty,
All-glorious King, expound His mysteries,
How ’neath the sky He taught speech-uttering
men. 420
Long is this journey o’er the fallow
flood;
Comfort the hearts of thy disciples; great
Is yet our way across the ocean-stream,
And land is far to seek; the sea is stirred,
The waves beat on the shore. Yet
easily
Can God give aid to men who sail the deep.”
Then Andrew wisely stablished
by his words
His followers, those heroes glorious:—
“Ye did consider when ye put to
sea
That ye would bear your life unto a folk
430
Of foemen; ye would suffer death for love
Of God, would give your life within the
realm
Of dark-skinned Ethiopians. I know
Myself that there is One who shieldeth
us,
The Maker of the angels, Lord of hosts.
Rebuked and bridled by the King of might,
The Terror of the waters shall grow calm,
The leaping sea. So once in days
of yore
Within a bark upon the struggling waves
We tried the waters, riding on the surge,
And very fearful seemed the sad sea-roads.
440
The ocean-floods beat fierce against the
shores;
Oft wave would answer wave; and whiles
upstood
From out the ocean’s bosom, o’er
our ship,
A Terror on the breast of our sea-boat.
There on that ocean-courser bode His time
The glorious God, Creator of mankind,
Almighty One. The men were filled
with fear,
They sought protection, mercy from the
Lord.
And when that company began to call,
The King straightway arose, and stilled
the waves, 450
The seething of the waters—He
who gives
Bliss to the angels; He rebuked the winds;
Thus spake the holy champion,
wise of heart,
He taught his thanes, that blessed warrior;
He stablished his men, till suddenly
Sleep came upon them weary by the mast.
The sea grew still, the onset of the waves
Turned back again, rough tumult of the
flood.
Then was the soul of that brave saint
rejoiced,
After that time of terror; wise in wit,
In counsel prudent, he began to speak
And thus unlocked the treasure of his
words:— 470
“I never found a better mariner,
More skilled than thou in sea-craft, as
I think,
A stouter oarsman, one more wise in words,
Sager in counsel. I will beg of thee
Yet one more boon, hero most excellent;
Though little treasure I can give to thee,
Jewels or beaten gold, I fain would win
Thy friendship, if I might, most glorious
lord.
So shalt thou gain good gifts, and blessed
joy 480
In heavenly glory, if of thy great lore
Thou’rt bountiful to weary voyagers.
One art I fain would learn of thee, brave
sir;
That since the Lord, the Maker of mankind,
Hath given might and honor unto thee,
Thou shouldst instruct me how thou pointest
out
The course of this thy billow-riding ship,
Thy sea-horse wet with spray. Though
sixteen times,
In former days and late, I’ve been
to sea, 490
And rowed with freezing hands upon the
deep,
The ocean-streams—this makes
one voyage more—
Yet even so mine eyes have ne’er
beheld
A mighty captain steering at the stern
Like unto thee. Loud roars the surging
flood,
Beats on the shore; this sea-boat is full
fleet;
It fareth foamy-necked most like a bird,
And glides upon the deep. I surely
know,
I never saw upon the ocean-road
Such wondrous skill in any seafarer.
500
It is as though the ship were on the land,
Where neither storm nor wind can make
it move,
Nor water-floods can break it, lofty-prowed;
Yet on the sea it hasteth under sail.
And thou art young, defense of warriors,
Not old in winters, rider of the surge;
Yet in thy heart thou hast the noble speech
Of princes, and dost wisely understand
All words employed by men upon the earth.”
Him answered then the everlasting
Lord:— 510
“Full oft it happens when we sail
the sea
That with our ships, our ocean-coursing
steeds,
We break our way across the watery roads[1]—
We and our seamen—when the
[Footnote 1: Lit. “bath-road.”]
The truth is manifest and
clear to all,
That thou art thane most excellent of
Him,
The King who sits enthroned in majesty;
Because the swelling ocean knew thee straight,
The circuit of the raging ocean knew
530
That thou didst have the Holy Spirit’s
gifts.
The sea, the mingling waves, turned back
again;
Still grew the Terror, the wide-bosomed
flood;
The waves subsided straightway when they
saw
That God had girt thee with His covenant,
He who did stablish by His own strong
might
The blessedness of glory without end.”
Then spake with holy voice
the champion
Valiant of heart; he magnified the King
Who rules in glory, speaking thus in words:—
540
“Blest art Thou, King of men, Redeeming
Lord;
Thy power endureth ever; near and far
Thy name is holy, bright with majesty,
Renowned in mercy ’mong the tribes
of men.
There lives no man beneath the vault of
heaven,
Ruler of nations, Savior of men’s
souls,
No one of mortal race, who can declare
How gloriously Thou dealest Thy good gifts,
Or tell their number. It is manifest
That Thou has been most gracious to this
youth. 550
And hast adorned him with Thy holy grace,
Young as he is; for he is wise in wit
And in discourse of words. I never
found
A mind more prudent in a man so young.”
The Glory of kings, the Source
and End of all,
Gave answer from the ship and boldly asked:—
“Tell, if thou canst, O prudent-minded
thane,
How on the earth it ever came to pass
That faithless men, the nation of the
Jews,
Raised blasphemy against the Son of God
560
With hearts of wickedness. Unhappy
men,
Cruel, malicious, they did not believe
In Him who gave them life, that He was
God,
Though many miracles among the tribes
He showed full clear and manifest; but
they,
Guilt-laden men, knew not the Royal Child,
Him that was born a comfort and defense
Unto mankind, to all who dwell on earth.
In wisdom and in power of speech increased
The noble Prince; and aye the Lord of
might 570
Showed forth his wonders to that stubborn
folk.”
Straightway did Andrew answer
him again:—
“How could it happen ’mong
the tribes of men
That thou, my friend, hast never heard
men tell
The Savior’s power, how He made
known His grace
Throughout the world—Son of
the Mighty One.
Speech gave He to the dumb; the deaf did
hear;
The halt and lepers He made glad in heart,
Those who long time had suffered, sick
of limb,
Weary and weak, fast bound in misery.
580
Throughout the towns the blind received
their sight,
Full many men upon the plains of earth
He woke from death by His almighty word;
And many another miracle He showed,
Royally famous, by His mighty strength.
Water He blessed before the multitude,
And bade it turn to wine, a better kind,
For happiness of men. Likewise He
fed
Five thousand of mankind with fishes twain
590
And with five loaves; the companies sat
down
With hearts fatigued, rejoicing in their
rest,
All weary after wandering; on the ground
Where pleased them best the men received
their food.
Lo, thou mayst hear, good sir, how, while
He lived,
The Lord of glory by His words and deeds
Showed love to us-ward, led us by His
lore
To that fair home of joy where men may
dwell
Freely with angels in high blessedness—
Even they who after death go to the Lord.”
600
Again the Ruler of the waves
unlocked
The treasure of His words, and boldly
spake:—
“That I may truly know, I pray thee
tell
Whether thy Lord showed forth His miracles—
Which on the earth for comfort of mankind
Full many times He worked—before
men’s sight,
Where bishops, scribes, and princes held
discourse
Sitting in council. For it seems
to me
That out of envy they contrived this guile,
610
Led by deep error and the Devil’s
lore;
Those men foredoomed to death too readily
Gave ear to wicked traitors; their ill
fate
Deceived, misled them, gave them counsel
false;
Weary ’mong weary men they soon
must bear
Torments and biting flames in Satan’s
arms.”
Straightway did Andrew answer
him again:—
“I tell thee truly that He ofttimes
worked
Wonder on wonder in the sight of men,
620
Before their rulers; and in secret too
The Lord of men did deeds of public good,
Which he devised for their eternal peace.”
Him answered then the sure
Defense of kings:—
“Couldst thou, wise hero, warrior
strong of heart,
Tell me in words the wonders that He showed
In secret, when, as oft, ye sat alone
In converse with the Lord who rules the
skies?”
Straightway did Andrew answer
him again:—
“Why dost thou question me with
crafty speech,
My dearest lord, thou who dost truly know
630
By virtue of thy wisdom every hap.”
The Ruler of the waves replied
to him:—
“’Tis not in blame that I
thus question thee,
Nor to insult thee on the ocean-road.[1]
My mind is blithe and blossoming with
joy
At thy most noble speech; not I am blithe
Alone, for every man is glad in heart
And comforted in soul who far or near
Remembers in his heart what that One did,
God’s Son on earth. Souls unto
Him were turned; 640
With eagerness they sought the joys of
heaven,
The angels’ home, by aid of His
great might.”
[Footnote 1: Lit. “whale-road.”]
Straightway did Andrew answer
Him again:—
“In thee I see an understanding
heart
Of wondrous power, the gift of victory;
With wisdom blooms thy breast, with brightest
joy.
Lo, I will tell to thee from first to
last
The words and wisdom of the noble Lord,
650
As I have heard it oft from His own mouth
When He conversed with men upon the earth.
Oft did great multitudes, unnumbered throngs,
Assemble to the council of the Lord,
And hear the teachings of the Holy One.
The Shield of kings, bright Giver of all
bliss,
Went to another house, where many men,
Wise elders, came to meet Him, praising
God;
And ever men were joyful, glad of heart,
At the Lord’s coming.
Likewise
it befell 660
That once of yore the Lord of victory,
The mighty King, went on a pilgrimage;
Eleven glorious champions alone
Of His own people on that journey went;
He was Himself the twelfth. When
we were come
Unto the kingly city where was built
The temple of the Lord with pinnacles
High towering, famous ’mong the
tribes of men,
Beauteous in splendor—with
reviling words
The high priest straight began to mock
at Him 670
Insultingly, from out his wicked heart;
He oped his inmost thoughts and mischief
wove;
For in his heart he knew we followed aye
The footsteps of our ever-righteous Lord,
His teachings we performed; straightway
he raised
His baneful voice infect with wickedness:—
’Lo, ye are wretched more than all
mankind;
Ye go upon wide wanderings, and ye fare
On many toilsome journeys; ye give ear
Unto a stranger’s teachings ’gainst
our law;
A prince without a portion ye proclaim;
680
Ye say, in sooth, that with the Son of
God
Ye daily converse hold! The rulers
know
From what beginning his high race is sprung.
In this land he was nourished, and was
born
A child among his kindred; at their home
Thus are his father and his mother called—
As we have learned by prudent questioning—
Mary and Joseph; other children twain
Were born his brothers in that family,
690
Simon and Jacob—Joseph’s
sons they are.’
So spake the counsellors of men, the lords
Ambitious, and they thought to hide the
might
Of God; their sin returned to them again
From whom it rose, an everlasting bane.
Then did the Prince, the Lord
of hosts, depart
With all His thanes from out the council-hall,
Strong in His might, to seek an unknown
land.
By wonders manifold and mighty deeds
In deserts wild He showed that He was
King 700
By right throughout the world, made strong
with power,
Ruler and Author of bright majesty,
Eternal God of all created things.
Likewise He showed before the sight of
men
Unnumbered other works miraculous.
Upon another journey then
He went
With a vast throng, and in the temple
stood,
The glorious Prince. The sound of
words arose
Within the lofty building; sinful men
Would not receive the holy Savior’s
words,
Though He had shown so many tokens true
710
While they looked on. Upon the temple
wall
On either side the Lord victorious saw
An image of His angels wondrous carved,
Brightly adorned and beautifully wrought;
Then to the multitude he spake in words:—
’This is the likeness of the angel-race
Most widely known to dwellers in this
town.
In Paradise their names are Cherubim
720
And Seraphim; before the face of God
They stand, strong-souled, and with their
voices praise
In holy song the might of Heaven’s
King,
And God’s protecting hand.
Here is carved out
The holy angels’ form; the thanes
of glory
Are chiseled on the wall by handicraft.’
The Lord of hosts, the Holy
Spirit of heaven,
Spake yet again unto the multitude:—
’Now I command a sign to be disclosed,
A miracle before the throng of men,
730
That from the wall this image shall descend
All beautiful to earth, and speak a word,
Shall tell them truly of My parentage,
That men throughout the land may then
believe!’
The ancient image durst not
disobey
The Savior’s words, but leapt from
off the wall,
Stone cleft from stone; upon the earth
it stood,
A wonder in the sight of all the throng;
Then came a voice loud sounding from the
stone, 740
Rebuking them in words; and wondrous seemed
The statue’s speech to those proud-hearted
men.
With tokens manifest it taught the priests,
Warned them with wisdom; thus it spake
in words:—
’Accursed are ye and wretched in
your thoughts,
Deceived with tricks, or else with clouded
mind
No better do ye know. Ye call God’s
Son
Eternal but a man—Him who marked
out
With His own hands the sea and solid ground,
Both heaven and earth, the stormy ocean-waves,
The salt sea-streams, and the high firmament.
750
He is that self-same God all-powerful
Whom in the early days your fathers knew;
To Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob
He gave His grace, and honored them with
wealth;
To Abraham He first declared in words
The covenant of his race, that of his
seed
The God of glory should be born; this
fate
Is now fulfilled among you, manifest;
And lo! your eyes can now behold the God
Of victory, who rules the heavens on high.’
760
After these words the crowd
stood listening;
All silent were they through the spacious
hall.
The elders then began again to say,
Those sinful men—the truth
they did not know!—
That it was magic art and sorcery
That made the shining stone to talk to
men.
Evil was blossoming in their hearts, and
hate
Welled hot as fire within their wicked
breasts,
A serpent, foe to joy, a poison dire;
770
And by their words of mocking were revealed
Their doubting hearts and thoughts of
wickedness,
With murder girt about. Then did
the Lord
Command the stone, that mighty work, to
go
Along the way, from out the open place,
To tread the paths of earth, the meadows
green,
To bear God’s message into Canaan
land,
And in God’s name command that Abraham
And his descendants twain should rise
again
From out their sepulchre, and leave their
place 780
Of rest beneath the earth, take up their
limbs,
Receive a soul again and youth’s
estate;
That those wise patriarchs should come
once more
Among mankind, to tell the folk what God
It was that they had known by His own
might.
It went and journeyed on the
border-paths
As mighty God, Creator of mankind,
Commanded it, until it came to Mamre
All dazzling bright, as God had bidden
it.
There had the bodies of those patriarchs
790
Long time lain hid. It bade them
straight arise
From out the earth, those princes, Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, leaving their deep sleep
To meet their God; it bade them to prepare
To come before the presence of the Lord;
For they must tell the folk Who at the
first
Brought forth this earth all-green, and
heaven above,
And where that Ruler was who stablished
firm
All that great work. They durst not
long delay
Fulfilment of the glorious King’s
command. 800
So went those prophets three, those valiant
men,
And trod the earth; they let their sepulchres
Stand open, for they would straightway
proclaim
The Father of creation. Then the
folk
With fear was stricken, when those Princes
old
Honored the King of glory with their words.
The Lord of might bade them forthwith
return
To blessedness, to seek a second time
The happiness of heaven in holy peace,
And there to live in bliss for evermore.
810
Lo, thou mayst hear, dear
youth, how He performed
By His commands full many miracles;
Yet even so those people blind of heart
Did not believe His teachings. I
could tell
Many more deeds which He, the Prince of
heaven,
Wrought on the earth—a great
and famous tale:
Such deeds as thou couldst never understand,
Nor comprehend in heart, though thou art
wise.”
Thus Andrew all day long showed forth
the lore
Of holy Jesus in his words, until
A sleep came sudden o’er him as
he sailed 820
Upon the whale’s road nigh to Heaven’s
King.
The Lord of life then bade
His angels bear
That saint beloved over the beating waves,
And gently carry him upon their breasts
Under the Father’s care across the
floods,
While sleep was on him weary of the sea.
So journeying through the air he reached
the land
And came unto the city, which the King
Of angels bade him seek; the messengers
Departed joyful to their home on high.
830
They left the holy man, that gracious
saint,
Beside the highway, ’neath the vault
of heaven,
Peacefully sleeping near the city wall
And near his foes malignant all night
long,
’Till God sent forth the candle
of the day
Brightly to shine. Vanished the shadows
dark
Beneath the welkin; then the torch of
heaven,
The clear light of the sky, came forth
and shone
Above the town. The warrior brave
awoke
And gazed upon the fields; before the
gates 840
Steep hills high towered; about the hoary
cliff
Stood buildings wrought of many-colored
tiles,
Great towers, and wind-swept walls.
The sage straight knew
That he had reached the Mermedonian land,
E’en as the Father of mankind declared,
When He prescribed that journey.
On the ground
He saw his own disciples, valiant men,
Beside him deep in sleep. He straight
began
To wake the warriors; thus he spake in
words:— 850
“Lo, I can tell you one truth manifest,
That yesterday upon the ocean-stream
A noble Hero bore us o’er the sea.
The Glory of kings, the Ruler of mankind,
Was sailing in that ship; I knew His words,
Though He did hide the beauty of His face.”
His noble followers answered
him again,
Giving reply from out their inmost souls:—
“Our journey, Andrew, will we tell
to thee,
That wisely thou mayst understand in heart:—
860
A sleep came o’er us weary of the
sea,
And eagles came across the struggling
waves
In flight, exulting in their mighty wings,
And while we slept they took our souls
away;
With joy they bore us flying through the
air,
Gracious and bright, rejoicing in their
speed;
And gently they caressed us, while they
hymned
Continual praise; there was unceasing
song
Throughout the sky; a beauteous host was
there, 870
A glorious multitude. The angels
stood
About the Prince, the thanes about their
Lord,
In thousands; in the highest they gave
praise
With holy voice unto the Lord of lords;
The angel-band rejoiced. We there
beheld
The holy patriarchs and a mighty troop
Of martyrs; to the Lord victorious
That righteous throng sang never-ending
praise;
And David too was with them, Jesse’s
son,
The King of Israel, blessed warrior,
880
Come to Christ’s throne. Likewise
we saw you twelve
All standing there before the Son of God,
Exceeding glad was holy Andrew’s
heart
Within his breast, soon as he heard the
speech
Of his disciples, that above all men
God should so high esteem them, and this
word
Spake then the brave defense of warriors:—
“Lo, now I clearly see, Lord God,
that Thou,
Glory of kings, wast very nigh to me
On the ocean-road, when on that ship I
went;
Though on the beating sea I did not know
900
The Lord of angels, Savior of men’s
souls!
Be gracious unto me, Almighty God,
Bright King of mercy! on the ocean-stream
Full many words I spake; but now I know
Who bore me o’er the sea-floods
on His ship
With honor high; He is for all mankind
A Spirit of comfort; there is ready help,
And mercy from the Highest unto all
Who seek of Him—the gift of
victory.”
Straightway before his eyes
the Lord appeared, 910
The Prince of glory, King of all that
lives,
Like to a youth in form, and thus he spake:—
“Hail to thee, Andrew, and thy faithful
band;
Rejoice in heart, for I am thy defense,
That wicked foes may never harm thy soul,
Fierce-hearted workers of iniquity.”
Then fell to earth that hero
wise in words,
Begging protection, and he asked his Lord:—
“How did it happen, Ruler of mankind,
920
That, sinning ’gainst the Savior
of men’s souls,
I knew Thee not upon the ocean-way
Good as Thou art? there spake I many words,
More than I should in presence of my God.”
Him answered straightway God
all-powerful:—
“Thou didst not sin so grievously
as when
Thou madest protest in Achaian land
That on far journeyings thou couldst not
go,
Nor come unto the town, accomplishing
Thy way within three days, the time ordained,
930
As o’er the struggling waves I bade
thee fare.
Thou knowest better now that easily
I can advance and further any man
Who is My friend whithersoe’er I
will.
Quickly arise, and straightway learn My
will,
Man highly blessed; so shall the Father
bright
Adorn thee with His wondrous gifts, with
strength
And wisdom unto all eternity!
Go thou into the town, within the walls,
Where bides thy brother; for I know full
well 940
Matthew thy kinsman is afflicted sore
With deadly wounds at wicked traitors’
hands,
Beset with cunning snares. Him shalt
thou seek
And loose from hate of foes, with all
That much-enduring man, brave
for the fight,
Obeyed God’s word; he went into
the town
Forthwith, that steadfast warrior, with
might
Endowed, courageous-hearted, true to God;
He walked along the street, the path his
guide,
In such wise that no one could him behold,
No sinful man could see, for on the mead
The Lord victorious had covered him,
That chief beloved, with His protecting
care
And His high favor. So the noble
saint 990
Nigh to the prison pressed his way in
haste,
The champion of Christ. He saw a
band
Of heathens gathered, seven warders there
Before the gate; death snatched them all
away;
They perished powerless; the fierce rush
of death
Clutched them all bloody. Then the
holy saint
Prayed to the gracious Father in his heart;
He praised on high the goodness and the
power
Of Heaven’s King. The door
forthwith gave way
At holy Andrew’s touch; then entered
in 1000
The hero brave with thoughts of courage
bold.
The heathens there were sleeping drunk
with blood;
With their own blood they stained the
field of death.
Matthew he saw within that
murderous den,
The warrior stout, within the prison mirk,
Singing the praise of God, and worshiping
The angels’ King. Alone he
sat in grief
In that drear dwelling. On this earth
once more
His brother dear he saw—a holy
saint
Beheld a holy saint—and hope
grew strong. 1010
Up rose he quick to meet him, thanking
God
That ’neath the sun they had at
last beheld
Each other hale and sound. New joy
and love
Dwelt with those brethren twain; each
in his arms
Enclosed the other; they embraced and
kissed.
Unto the heart of Christ both saints were
dear.
A holy radiance bright as heaven above
Shone round about them, and their hearts
welled up
With joy. Then first did Andrew greet
in words 1020
His noble comrade, that God-fearing man:
He told him of the battle that must come,
The fight of hostile men:—
* * * * *
After these words those brothers knelt and prayed,
Those thanes of glory, and they sent their prayer
Up to the Son of God; and Matthew too
Within the prison called upon his God, 1030
Sought from the Savior succor and relief
Before he should be slain by battle-might
Of heathen men. Then from the prison strong,
Freed from their bonds, protected by the Lord,
He led two hundred men and forty-eight
Rescued from woe; not one he left behind
Within the prison-walls fast bound in chains;
And women too, besides this multitude,
Fifty less one he saved, o’erwhelmed with fear. 1040
Glad were they to depart, in haste they went,
Nor waited longer in that house of woe
The outcome of the struggle. Matthew went
Leading that multitude, as Andrew bade,
Under God’s keeping; on that longed-for way
He covered them with clouds, lest enemies,
Their ancient foes, should come to work them harm
With arrows’ flight; there did those valiant saints
Take counsel with each other, faithful friends,
Before they parted; each of those brave men 1050
Stablished the other with the hope of heaven;
The pains of hell they warded off by words.
So did the warriors with them, battle-brave,
Tried champions, with their holy voices praise
The Lord of fate, whose glory ne’er shall end.
Glad-hearted, Andrew walked
about the town
Unto the place where he had heard was
met
A concourse of his cruel enemies,
1060
Until he found beside the border-path
A brazen pillar standing near the road.
He sat him by its side; pure love had
he
And contemplation high, the angels’
bliss;
There waited he, within the city-walls,
What deed of war should be vouchsafed
to him.
Then gathered straight the
leaders of the folk
Their mighty troops; unto the prison strong
The faithless host of heathen warriors
Came fully armed, where late their captive
thralls 1070
Had suffered woe within the prison mirk.
They weened and wished, those stubborn-hearted
foes,
That they might make those foreign men
their meat,
Food for the multitude; their hope was
vain,
For, coming with their troops, those spearmen
fierce
Found prison-doors wide open, and the
work
Of hammers all unloosed, the watchmen
dead.
So back they turned, those luckless warriors,
Robbed of their joy, to bear the tidings
sad;
They told the folk that of the stranger
men, 1080
The men of foreign speech, not one they
found
Remaining in that prison-house alive;
But there upon the ground all stained
with gore,
Lifeless the watchmen lay, robbed of their
souls,
Mere slaughtered bodies. At that
sudden news
Dismayed was many a captain of the host,
Sad and cast down at thoughts of famine
stern,
That pale guest at the board. No
better way
They knew than on the dead to make their
feast
For their own sustenance; in a single
hour 1090
The bed of death was spread by cruel fate
For all those watchmen.
Then,
as I have heard,
A gathering of the townsmen was proclaimed;
The heroes came, a host of warriors
Riding on horses, brave men on their steeds
Exchanging speech; skilled were they at
the spear.
So in the meeting-place the people all
Were gathered, and they bade the lot decide
Among them, who should first give up his
life 1100
For food unto the rest; they cast the
lots
With hellish craft; before their heathen
gods
They counted them. Behold, the lot
did fall
Upon an aged chieftain, one who was
A counselor among the noble lords,
In front rank of the host. Soon was
he bound
In fetters fast, despairing of his life.
Then cried that chieftain
fierce with voice of woe,
Proclaiming he would give his own young
son
Into their power as ransom for his life.
1110
With thankful hearts they took his offering,
For greedily they lusted after food,
Sad-minded men; no joy had they in wealth,
Nor hope in hoarded riches; they were
sore
Oppressed with hunger, for the famine
dire
Held cruel sway. Then many a warrior
And hero battle-bold was fired in heart
To struggle for the life of that young
man;
The sign of woe was published far and
wide
Throughout the town to many a hero brave,
1120
That they should seek in troops the young
man’s death,
That, young and old, they should receive
their share
As food to keep their lives. The
heathen priests
Straightway collected there a multitude
Of dwellers in that town; loud shouts
arose.
Bound there before the throng
the youth began
To sing with mournful voice a song of
woe;
The wretched thrall begged succor of his
friends;
But no relief nor mercy could he find
From that fierce folk to give him back
his life. 1130
Those monstrous fiends had sought hostility;
It was their purpose that the sword’s
sharp edge
Made hard by blows, and stained with marks
of fire,
In foeman’s hand should take his
life away.
But Andrew thought it grievous, hard to
bear,
A public wrong, that one so innocent
Should forthwith lose his life. That
people’s hate
Was very fierce; the warriors, valiant
thanes 1140
Lusting for murder, rushed upon the youth;
They wished straightway to break his head
with spears.
But God, the Holy One, from heaven above
Defended him against the heathen throng;
He bade their weapons melt away like wax
In the fierce onset, that his bitter foes
Should scathe him not with might of hostile
swords.
So from his woe and from that people’s
hate
The youth was loosed. To God, the
Lord of lords, 1150
Be thanks for all, because He giveth might
To every man who wisely seeketh aid
From Him on high! There is eternal
peace
Ever prepared for those who can attain.
Then in that town was lamentation
heard,
Loud outcry of the throng; heralds proclaimed
And mourned the lack of food; there stood
they sad,
Held fast by hunger; the high-towering
halls—
Their wine-halls—all were empty;
they possessed
No wealth to enjoy at that unhappy hour.
1160
The wise men sat apart in council sad,
Talked of their woe; no joy was in their
land.
Thus would one hero oft another ask:—
“Let him who has good counsel in
his heart,
And wisdom, hide it not! The hour
is come
Exceeding woful; great is now the need
That we should hear the words of prudent
men.”
Then to that band the Devil
straight appeared
All black and ugly, and he had the form
Of one accursed. The Prince of death
began, 1170
The limping imp of hell, with wicked heart
To accuse the holy man; this word he spake:—
“A certain prince is come into your
town,
A stranger journeying from a distant land;
Andrew I heard him called. He worked
you scath
But lately, when he led a company
Great beyond measure from your prison
strong;
And now these deeds of harm ye may with
ease
Wreak on their author; let your weapons’
point, 1180
Your hard-edged iron, hew his body down,
Doomed to destruction. Go now boldly
forth,
That ye may overcome your foe in war.”
Straightway did Andrew answer
him again:—
“Why dost thou impudently teach
this folk,
And urge them unto battle? Hast thou
felt
The fiery torment hot in hell, and yet
Leadest an army forth, a troop to war?
Thou art a foe to God, the Lord of hosts;
Why dost thou thus heap up thy wretchedness?
Shaft of the devil, whom Almighty God
1190
Bent humble down and into darkness hurled,
Where the King of kings did cover thee
with chains;
And they who keep the covenant of God
Have called thee Satan ever since that
hour.”
Again the Adversary by his
words,
With fiendish craft urged on the folk
to fight:—
“Now do you hear the foeman of your
tribe,
Him who has wrought most harm unto this
host!
Andrew it is, who thus disputes with me
In cunning words before the throng of
men.” 1200
Then to the townsmen was the signal given;
Up leaped they valiant with
the shout of hosts,
And to the city-gates the warriors thronged
Bold ’neath their banners; with
their spears and shields,
In mighty troops they pressed unto the
fight.
Then spake the Lord of hosts,
Almighty God,
And said these words unto His valiant
thane:—
“O Andrew, thou shalt do a deed
of might;
Shrink not before this host, but thy brave
heart
Strengthen against the strong! The
hour is nigh 1210
When these blood-thirsty men shall weigh
thee down
With torments and cold chains. Reveal
thyself,
Make firm thy soul, and strengthen thy
brave heart,
That they may recognize My power in thee!
They cannot and they may not, crime-stained
men,
Deal death unto thy body ’gainst
My will,
Though thou shalt suffer many evil blows
From murderers. Lo, I abide with
thee!”
After these words there came
a countless throng,
False leaders with their troops of shield-clad
men, 1220
Angry at heart. Straight rushed they
out and bound
Saint Andrew’s hands, soon as the
joy of lords
Revealed himself, and they could see him
there
Boldly triumphant. Many a warrior
Lusted for battle on that field of death,
Among the host of men. Little they
cared
What recompense hereafter they should
find.
They gave command to lead their hated
foe
Over the country, and from time to time
1230
To drag him fiercely as they could contrive.
Savage, they haled him, cruel-hearted
foes,
Through mountain-caves, about the stony
cliffs,
Far as their stone-paved streets and highways
stretched—
The ancient work of giants—through
the town.
A tumult and a mighty outcry rose
Within the city from the heathen host.
With grievous wounds was Andrew’s
body pained,
Broken and wet with blood, which welled
in streams 1240
All hot with gore; yet had he in his breast
Courage undoubting; and his noble mind
Was free from sin, though he was doomed
to bear
Such bitter suffering from his heavy wounds.
Thus all day long till radiant
evening came
Was Andrew scourged; and yet a second
day
Pain pierced his breast, until the gleaming
sun
With heavenly radiance to his setting
went.
Then to the prison did those people lead
Their hated foe; yet to the heart of Christ
1250
Was he full dear; within his holy breast
His soul shone bright—a mind
invincible.
So all night long the hero brave of heart,
That holy saint, dwelt ’neath the
gloomy shades,
Beset with cunning snares. Snow bound
the earth
In wintry storms; the air grew bitter
cold
With heavy showers of hail; the rime and
frost,
Those warriors hoary, locked the homes
of men,
The people’s dwellings; frozen were
the lands
With icicles; the water’s might
shrank up 1260
Within the rivers, and the ice bridged
o’er
The gleaming water-roads. The noble
saint
Abode blithe-hearted, planning valiant
deeds,
Bold and courageous in his misery,
Throughout the wintry night; nor did he
e’er,
Dismayed by terror, cease to praise the
Lord,
And ever worship Him, as at the first,
With righteous heart, until the radiant
gem
Of glory rose.
Then
came a mighty troop,
A throng of warriors thirsting after blood,
1270
With clamor loud unto the prison mirk.
They gave command to lead the noble saint,
That steadfast man, into his foemen’s
grasp;
And once again he suffered all day long,
Beaten with grievous blows; his blood
welled out
In streams o’er all his body....
...Worn with wounds
He scarce felt any pain. Then from
his breast
The sound of weeping issued faintly forth,
A stream welled up, and thus he spake
in words:— 1280
“O God, my Lord, behold now mine
estate,
Ruler of hosts, Thou who dost understand
And know the misery of every man;
I trust in Thee, Thou Author of my life,
That, in Thy mercy and Thy glorious power,
O Savior of mankind, Thou never wilt
Forsake me, everlasting God of might;
So while my life shall last I ne’er
will leave,
O God, Thy gracious teachings! Lo,
Thou art 1290
A shield against the weapons of the foe
For all Thy saints, eternal Source of
joy.
Let not man’s foe, the first-born
child of sin,
Revile me now, nor by his fiendish craft
Cover with woe the men who spread Thy
praise.”
Then in their midst the ugly
fiend appeared,
That wicked traitor damned to torments
sharp;
Before the host he taught the warriors,
The Devil of hell, and this word did he
speak:—
“Come, smite the wicked wretch upon
his mouth, 1300
The foeman of this folk; too much he talks!”
Then was the strife stirred
up once more anew,
And violence arose, until the sun
Went to his setting ’neath the gloomy
earth;
Night shrouded all, and spread o’er
mountains steep,
A dusky brown. Then to the prison
mirk
Once more the brave and righteous saint
was led,
And all night long that true man had to
dwell
Within his wretched den, the house unclean.
1310
Then came unto the hall with
other six
That demon vile, mindful of evil deeds,
The lord of murder, shrouded in deep gloom,
The Devil fierce, bereft of majesty,
And to the saint he spake reviling words:—
“Andrew, why didst thou plan thy
coming here,
Into the power of foes? Where is
that fame
Which in thy arrogance thou didst set
up,
When thou wouldst overthrow our gods’
renown?
Thou hast claimed all things for thyself
alone, 1320
The land and people, as thy master did;
He set up royal power upon the earth,
As long as it might stand—Christ
was his name.
Herod, the king, deprived him of his life,
He overcame the King of the Jews in war,
Robbed him of power, and nailed him on
the rood,
That on the cross he might give up his
life.
So now I bid my sons, my mighty thanes,
To vanquish thee, his follower, in the
fight.
Let javelin-point and arrow poison-dipped
1330
Pierce his doomed breast! Advance,
ye bold of heart,
That ye may humble low this warrior’s
pride!”
Fierce-souled were they, and
quickly rushed they on
With greedy hands; but God defended him,
Guiding him steadfast by His own strong
might.
Soon as they recognized upon his face
The glorious token of Christ’s holy
cross,
They all were terrified in the attack,
Sorely afraid, thrown headlong into flight.
1340
The ancient fiend, the prisoner
of hell,
Began once more to sing his mournful song:—
“What happened, O my warriors so
bold,
My shield-companions, that ye fared so
ill?”
An ill-starred wretch, a fiend
of wicked heart,
Gave answer then, and to his father said:—
“We shall not quickly work him any
harm,
Nor slay him by our wiles; go thou to
him;
There wilt thou surely find a bitter fight,
A savage battle, if again thou dar’st
1350
To risk thy life against that lonely man.
Much better counsel in the play of swords
We easily can give thee, lord beloved:
Before thou shalt resort to open war
And battle-rush, see to it how thou fare
In that exchange of blows; but let us
go
Again, that we may mock him fast in bonds,
And taunt him with his misery; have words
Ready devised against that wicked wretch.”
Then with a mighty voice cried
out that fiend 1360
Weighed down with torments, and this word
he spake:—
“Long time, O Andrew, hast thou
been well versed
In arts of sorcery; thou hast deceived
And led astray much people; but thou shalt
No longer now have power upon such works,
For grievous torments are decreed for
thee
According to thy deeds. With weary
heart,
Joyless, degraded, thou shalt suffer woes,
The bitter pangs of death. My warriors
Are ready for the battle; they will soon
Deprive thee of thy life by valiant deeds.
1370
What man on earth so mighty that he may
Release thee from thy bonds, if I oppose?”
Straightway did Andrew answer
him again:—
“Almighty God with ease can rescue
me
From all my grief—He who in
days of yore
Fettered thee fast with fiery chains in
woe.
There, shorn of glory, bound with torments
fierce,
In exile hast thou dwelt e’er since
the day 1380
When thou didst set at naught the word
of God,
Of Heaven’s King; then did thy woe
begin,
And to thy exile there shall be no end;
But thou shalt still heap up thy wretchedness
To everlasting life, and evermore
Thy lot shall grow yet harsher day by
day.”
Then fled that fiend who in the years
long past
Began a deadly feud against his God.
Then at the dawning, when
the day first broke,
A troop of heathens came to find the saint,
A mighty throng, and gave command to lead
1390
That valiant-hearted thane a third time
forth.
They wished straightway to overcome the
soul
Of that bold saint—but it was
not to be.
Then was the battle stirred up once again,
Cruel and very fierce. The holy man,
Bound fast with cunning skill, was sorely
scourged,
Pierced through with wounds, until the
daylight failed;
And, sad of heart, he cried aloud to God
Bravely from prison with his holy voice;
Weary of soul, he spake these words with
tears:— 1400
“Ne’er have I suffered by
God’s holy will
A lot more grievous under heaven’s
vault,
In lands where I have had to preach His
law!
My limbs are wrenched apart, my body sore
Is broken, and my flesh is stained with
blood;
My thews are torn and bloody. Lo,
Thou too,
Ruler of victory, Redeeming Lord,
Wast filled with grief among the Jews
that day
When from the cross, Thou, everlasting
God,
Glory of kings, creation’s mighty
Lord, 1410
Called to the Father, and thus spake to
him :—
’Father of angels, source of light
and life,
Oh why hast Thou forsaken me, I pray?’
Torments most cruel I have had to bear
For three long days. I beg thee,
Lord of hosts,
That I may give my soul into Thy hands,
Thy very hands, Thou Nourisher of souls!
For Thou didst promise by Thy holy word,
Then spake a voice unto that
steadfast man;
The King of glory’s words resounded
clear:— 1430
“Weep not, O man beloved, at this
thy woe;
Too hard it is not for thee; with My aid,
With My protection, I will hold thee up,
And compass thee about with My great might.
All power is given to Me upon this earth,
And glorious victory. Full many a
man
Shall bear Me witness at the judgment
day,
That all this beauteous world, the heavens
and earth,
Shall fall in ruin, before a single word
Which I have spoken with My mouth shall
fail. 1440
Look now where thou hast walked, and where
thy blood
Was spilled, where from thy wounds the
path was stained
With spots of blood. No more harsh
injury
Can they do unto thee by stroke of spears
Who most have harmed thee by their cruel
deeds.”
Then looked behind him that dear champion,
Even as the glorious King commanded him;
Fair flowering trees beheld he standing
there,
With blossoms decked, where he had shed
his blood.
Then spake in words that shield
of warriors:— 1450
“Ruler of nations, thanks and praise
to Thee
And glory in heaven both now and evermore,
For that Thou didst not leave me in my
woe,
Alone, a stranger, Lord of victory!”
So to the Lord that doer of great deeds
Gave praise with holy voice until the
sun
In glorious brightness went beneath the
waves.
Then yet a fourth time those
fierce-hearted foes,
The leaders of the folk, brought back
the prince
Unto his prison; for they hoped to turn
1460
In the dark night the hero’s mighty
soul.
Then came the Lord unto that prison-house,
Glory of warriors, and with words of cheer
The Guide of life, the Father of mankind,
Greeted His thane and bade him once again
Soundness enjoy:—“From
henceforth and for aye
Thou shalt no more bear woe from armed
men.”
Freed from the bondage of
his grievous pains, 1470
The mighty saint arose and thanked his
God.
His beauty was not marred, nor was the
hem
Loosed from his cloak, nor lock from off
his head;
No bone was broken, and no bloody wounds
Were in his body, and no injured limb
Wet with his blood through wounding stroke
of sword;
But there he stood by God’s most
noble might
Whole as before, giving to Him the praise.
Lo, I awhile the story of
the saint—
The song of praise of him who did the
deeds—
Have set forth here in words, a tale well
known, 1480
Beyond my power; much is there yet to
tell—
A weary task—what he in life
endured,
From the beginning on! A wiser man
Upon the earth than I account myself
Must in his heart invent it, one who knows
From the beginning all the misery
Which bravely he endured in cruel wars.
Yet in small parts we further must relate
A portion of that tale. It has been
told
Already how he suffered many woes
1490
From grievous warfare in the heathen town.
Beside the prison-wall set
wondrous fast
He saw great pillars, work of giants old,
All beaten by the storms. With one
of these
He converse held, mighty and bold of heart;
Prudent and wondrous wise, he spake these
words:—
“Give ear, thou marble stone, to
God’s command,
Before whose presence all created things—
The heavens and earth—stand
trembling, when they see
The Father with a countless multitude
1500
Visit the race of men upon the earth!
Let streams well forth from out thy firm
support,
A gushing river; for the King of heaven,
Almighty God, commands thee that straightway
Upon this stubborn-hearted folk thou send
Water wide-flowing for the people’s
death,
A rushing sea. Lo, thou art better
far
Than gold or treasure! for the King Himself,
The God of glory, wrote on thee, and showed
1510
His mysteries forth in words; Almighty
God
In ten commandments showed His righteous
law,
Gave it to Moses, and true-hearted men
Kept it thereafter, mighty warriors,
Joshua and Tobias, faithful thanes,
God-fearing men. Now dost thou truly
know
That in the days of old the angels’
King
Decked thee more fair than all the precious
stones.
Now at His holy bidding thou shalt show
1520
If thou hast any knowledge of thy God!”
Then was there no delay; straightway
the stone
Split open, and a stream came rushing
out
And flowed along the ground; at early
dawn
The foaming billows covered up the earth;
The ocean-flood waxed great; mead was
outpoured
After that day of feasting! Mail-clad
men
Shook off their slumbers; water deeply
stirred
Seized on the earth; the host was sore
dismayed
At terror of the flood; the youths were
doomed, 1530
And perished in the deep; the rush of
war
Snatched them away with tumult of the
sea.
That was a grievous trouble, bitter beer;
The ready cup-bearers did not delay;
From daybreak on each man had drink to
spare.
The might of waters waxed, the men wailed
loud,
Old bearers of the spear; they strove
to flee
The fallow stream; they fain would save
Then easy was it in that town
to find
The song of sorrow sung, and grief bemoaned,
And many a heart afraid, and dirges sad.
The dreadful fire was plain to every eye,
1550
Fierce pillager, the uproar terrible;
And rushing through the air the blasts
of fire
Hurled themselves round the walls; the
floods grew great.
There far and wide was lamentation heard,
The cries of helpless men. Straightway
began
One wretched warrior to collect the folk
Humble and sad, he spake with mournful
voice:—
“Now may ye truly know that we did
wrong
When we o’erwhelmed this stranger
with our chains,
With bonds of torment, in the prison-house;
1560
For Fate is crushing us, most fierce and
stern—
That is full clear!—And better
is it far,
So hold I truth, that we with one accord
Should loose him soon as may be from his
bonds,
And beg the holy man to give us help,
Comfort and aid! Full quickly we
shall find
Peace after sorrow, if we seek of him.”
Then Andrew knew the purpose
of the folk
Within his heart; he knew the warriors’
might, 1570
The pride of valiant men, was humbled
low.
The waters compassed them about, and fierce
The rushing torrent flowed, the flood
rejoiced,
Until the welling sea o’ertopped
their breasts,
And reached their shoulders. Then
the noble saint
Bade the wild flood subside, the storms
to cease
About the stony cliffs. Straight
walked he out
And left his prison, valiant, firm of
soul,
Wise-hearted, dear to God; for him forthwith
A way was opened through the spreading
stream; 1580
Calm was the field of victory, the earth
Was dry at once where’er he placed
his foot.
Blithe-hearted waxed the dwellers in that
town,
And glad in soul; for help was come to
pass
After their grief. The flood subsided
straight,
And at the saint’s behest the storm
was stilled,
The waters ceased. Then was the mountain
cloven—
A frightful chasm—into itself
it drew
The flood, and swallowed up the fallow
waves,
The struggling sea—the abyss
devoured it all. 1590
Yet not the waves alone it swallowed up;
But fourteen men, worst caitiffs of the
throng,
Went headlong to destruction with the
flood
Under the yawning earth. Then sore
afraid
Was many a heart at that calamity;
They feared the slaughter both of men
and wives,
A yet more wretched season of distress,
When once those sin-stained cruel murderers,
Those warriors fierce, plunged headlong
down the abyss. 1600
Straightway then spake they
all with one accord:—
“Now is it plain to see that one
true God,
The King of every creature, rules with
might—
He who did hither send this messenger
To help the people! Great is now
our need
That we should follow righteousness with
zeal.”
Then did the saint give comfort
to those men,
He cheered the throng of warriors with
his words:—
“Be not too fearful, though the
sinful race
Sought ruin, suffered death—the
punishment 1610
Due to their sins. A bright and glorious
light
On you is risen if ye but purpose well.”
His prayer he sent before the Son of God,
And begged the Holy One to give His aid
Unto those youths who in the ocean-stream
Had lost their life within the flood’s
embrace,
So that their souls, forsaken by the Lord,
Shorn of their glory, had been borne away
To death and torments in the power of
fiends.
Saint Andrew’s prayer
was pleasing unto God, 1620
Almighty One, the Counselor of men;
He bade the youths, those whom the flood
had slain,
Rise up unscathed in body from the ground.
Then straightway stood there up among
the throng
Many an ungrown child, as I have heard;
Body and soul were joined again in one,
Though but a short time gone in flood’s
fierce rush
They all had lost their lives. Then
they received
True baptism and the covenant of peace,
1630
The pledge of glory, God’s protecting
grace,
Freedom from punishment. The valiant
saint,
The craftsman of the King, then bade them
build
A church, and make a temple of the Lord
Upon the spot where those young men arose
By baptism, even where the flood sprang
forth.
From far and wide the warriors of that
town
Gathered in throngs; both men and women
said
That they would faithfully obey his word,
Receive the bath of baptism joyfully
1640
According to God’s will, and straightway
leave
Their devil-worship and their ancient
shrines.
Then noble baptism was exalted high
Among that folk, the righteous law of
God
Established ’mong those men—a
mighty boon
Unto their country—and the
church was blessed.
The messenger of God appointed
one,
A man of wisdom tried, of prudent speech,
To be a bishop in that city bright
Over the people, and he hallowed him
By virtue of his apostolic power
1650
Before the multitude for their behoof,—
His name was Platan. Strictly Andrew
bade
That they should keep his teachings zealously,
And should work out salvation for their
souls.
He told them he was eager to depart,
And fain would leave that city bright
with gold,
Their revelry and wealth, their bounteous
halls,
And seek a ship beside the breaking sea.
So once again that brave and
mighty saint
Returned to seek the Mermedonian town.
In wisdom and in speech the Christians
waxed,
After their eyes beheld the glorious thane,
The noble King’s apostle. In
the way
Of faith he guided them; with glory bright
He made them strong; a countless multitude
1680
Of glorious men he led to blessedness,
Toward that most holy home in Heaven’s
realm,
Where Father, Son, and Holy Comforter
In blessed Trinity hold mighty rule,
World without end, within those mansions
fair.
Likewise the saint attacked their idol-shrines,
Banished their devil-worship, and put
down
Their errors. Mighty grief and hard
to bear
Was that for Satan, when he saw them turn
1690
With hearts of gladness from the halls
of hell
At Andrew’s teaching to that land
more bright,
Where fiends and evil spirits never come.
Then was the number of the
days fulfilled
Which God had set, and had commanded him
That he should linger in that wind-swept
town;
And quickly he made ready for the waves
With joyful heart; he wished once more
to seek
Achaia in his ocean-coursing ship;
1700
(There was he doomed to lose his life
and die
A death of violence. This deed was
fraught
With little laughter for his murderer;
To the jaws of hell he went, and since
that day
No solace has that friendless wretch e’er
found.)
Then in great companies, as
I have heard,
They led unto his ship their master dear,
Men sad of soul; the heart of many a one
Was welling hot in grief within his breast.
They brought the zealous champion to his
ship 1710
Beside the sea-cliffs, and upon the shore
They stood and mourned while they could
still behold
The joy of princes sailing o’er
the waves,
The path of seals. They praised the
glorious King;
The throngs cried out aloud, and thus
NOTES
38 f. Lit. “hay and grass oppressed them.”
298. Reading [=a]ra with Grein.
368. The MS. says h[=i]e (they), with change of subject; for the sake of clearness I have kept Andrew as the subject.
424. Reading sund with Grein.
592. Adopting Siever’s reading, r[=e]onigm[=o]de (Beitr. X, 506).
656. “another house”; I am at a loss to explain this apparent inconsistency.
713. That there are two images is shown by the Greek.
719. I omit is. The passage as it stands is meaningless.
746. Reading g[=e] mon c[=i]gaeth, with Cosijn.
826. Lit. “’Till sleep came o’er them weary of the sea”; but Andrew is already asleep. The line is probably corrupt.
828. Something is apparently missing, though the MS. shows no break. Without attempting an emendation I have supplied: “bade him seek,” as completing the obvious sense.
1024. At this point a page is missing in the manuscript. It must have corresponded to the end of Chap. 19 and to Chap. 20 of the Greek, in which Andrew and Matthew exchange short speeches, after which Andrew utters a long tirade against the Devil as the author of this woe. I have omitted lines 1023^b, 1024, and 1025, which are meaningless without what has been lost.
1035. The number of men is uncertain. According to the Greek it is 270, but the Homily says 248. The manuscript reads: “two and a hundred by number, also forty,” but l. 1036 is evidently deficient. Wuelker emends to swylce seofontig. This is unsatisfactory, since the line is metrically deficient, and since, moreover, the regular word for seventy is not seofontig, but hundseofontig. Without venturing an emendation, I have taken the number 248 from the Homily, as being nearer the manuscript than the 270 of the Greek. This similarity is an additional argument for a common Latin original of the poem and the Homily.
1212. The poet has neglected to mention the circumstance, clearly stated in the Greek, that Andrew was still invisible both to the Devil and to the Mermedonians. This makes clear several passages, i.e., ll. 1203, 1212, 1223 f.
1242. Reading untw[=e]onde with Grein and Cosijn. 1276. I have here omitted two half-lines, of which the sense is very obscure. Grein connects lifrum with Germ. liefern="to coagulate” (cf. Eng. loppered milk), instead of assigning it to lifer="liver,” but this interpretation is not very satisfactory. See also Cosijn’s note (Paul und Braune’s Beitraege, XXI, 17).
1338. The Greek explains that God had put the sign of the cross on Andrew’s face.
1376. I have here ventured an emendation of my own. The sentence as it stands is without a main verb, and 1377^a is metrically deficient. I would read:—
Hwaet m[=e] [=e]aethe [maeg] aelmihtig
God
n[=i]etha [generian], se ethe in n[=i]edum
[=i]u.
See under generian in Grein’s Sprachschalz.
1478 ff. This passage is certainly ambiguous. That h[=a]liges refers to Andrew, and not to God, is shown by the use of h[=e] in 1. 1482.
1493. I follow Grein’s emendation, and read saelwaege = “castle wall,” although the word is not found elsewhere. If we read saelwange with Wuelker, the meaning of under must be greatly stretched. Moreover, the Greek says: “He saw a pillar standing in the midst of the prison.”
1508. Reading geofon with Grimm, Kemble, etc., as also in 393 and 1585.
1545. Reading wadu with Kemble and Grein.
1663. Apparently a line or two is missing here, though there is no break in the manuscript. I have translated in brackets Grein’s conjectural emendation, as supplying the probable meaning.
1667. I have again translated Grein’s emendation.
1681. Reading t[=i]r[=e]adigra with Kemble.
Text between slashes — e.g. xxxxx — was originally BOLD. Non-Ascii characters are marked e.g. [=o] for o with a Macron. The line numbers are inconsistent, as in the original text.