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254 | 259 | andreas.txt | (254-259) | (254-9) | Then Andrew, elated, greeted them and spoke, standing on gravel, ready upon the strand: “Whence do you come, sailing by ship, skillful men, upon the sea-rusher, a lone water-float? Whence has the water-stream over the rocking waves brought you?” | Hie ða gegrette, se ðe on greote stod, fus on faroðe, fægn reordade: "Hwanon comon ge ceolum liðan, macræftige menn, on mereþissan, ane ægflotan? Hwanon eagorstream ofer yða gewealc eowic brohte?" | 39 | 31 | 8 |
241b | 253 | andreas.txt | (241b-253) | (241b-53) | Then came the morning-shine, brightest of beacons over the water, holy from the gloaming. The candle of heaven gleamed over the sea-floods. Andrew found there the ship-wards, proud and glorious men, three thanes sitting in their sea-boat, such as they had come in over the sea. That was the Lord himself, the Wielder of Multitudes, the Eternal Almighty, along with two of his angels. They were in the raiment of seafarers— nobles in wave-sailors’ guise who bounce in the water’s embrace across the distant wave in ships upon the cold water. | þa com morgentorht beacna beorhtost ofer breomo sneowan, halig of heolstre. Heofoncandel blac ofer lagoflodas. He ðær lidweardas, þrymlice þry þegnas gemette, modiglice menn, on merebate sittan siðfrome, swylce hie ofer sæ comon. þæt wæs drihten sylf, dugeða wealdend, ece ælmihtig, mid his englum twam. Wæron hie on gescirplan scipferendum, eorlas onlice ealiðendum, þonne hie on flodes fæðm ofer feorne weg on cald wæter ceolum lacað. | 91 | 66 | 25 |
230 | 241a | andreas.txt | (230-241a) | (230-41a) | When the message was declared to the champion in the noble cities, Andrew had no timorous mind, but was resolute for valiant deeds, firm and stout-hearted—not at all battle-tardy— but readied by war for the contest of God. Then he departed at dawn in the earliest morn, across the sandy dunes to the sea’s shore, bold in mind, and with his thanes, walking upon the sand. The spear-waves resounded, beating the brim-streams. The warrior was hopeful after he discovered on the shore a ship, broad-bosomed and high-spirited. | þa wæs ærende æðelum cempan aboden in burgum, ne wæs him bleað hyge, ah he wæs anræd ellenweorces, heard ond higerof, nalas hildlata, gearo, guðe fram, to godes campe. Gewat him þa on uhtan mid ærdæge ofer sandhleoðu to sæs faruðe, þriste on geþance, ond his þegnas mid, gangan on greote. Garsecg hlynede, beoton brimstreamas. Se beorn wæs on hyhte, syðþan he on waruðe widfæðme scip modig gemette. | 87 | 68 | 19 |
225 | 229 | andreas.txt | (225-229) | (225-29) | Then the Holy Holder and Wielder departed from him, the Source of High Angels and the Guardian of Middle-earth, seeking his own country, that renowned home, where the souls of the sooth-fast can brook life after their bodies crumble to dust. | Gewat him þa se halga healdend ond wealdend, upengla fruma, eðel secan, middangeardes weard, þone mæran ham, þær soðfæstra sawla moton æfter lices hryre lifes brucan. | 41 | 26 | 15 |
216 | 224 | andreas.txt | (216-224) | (216-24) | “You must then set out on a journey, bearing your spirit into the grip of furious men, where a war-struggle will be offered to you through the rushing crash of battle, through the war-craft of warriors. You must mount a ship at once with the dawn, even at next morrow, at the seashore— and on the cold water, burst forth over the bath-way. Have my blessing across my middle-earth wherever you go!” | ðu scealt þa fore geferan ond þin feorh beran in gramra gripe, ðær þe guðgewinn þurh hæðenra hildewoman, beorna beaducræft, geboden wyrðeð. Scealtu æninga mid ærdæge, emne to morgene, æt meres ende ceol gestigan ond on cald wæter brecan ofer bæðweg. Hafa bletsunge ofer middangeard mine, þær ðu fere!" | 72 | 49 | 23 |
202 | 215 | andreas.txt | (202-215) | (202-15) | Then the Lord Eternal answered him: “Alas, Andrew, that you would ever wish to be sluggish to the journey’s path! There is nothing difficult for the All-wielding God to effect upon the earth-ways, so that that city, the king-throne renowned, with all its inhabitants, could be planted into this very land under the course of heaven— if the Owner of Glory decreed it in word. You cannot be slow to this journey, nor feeble in your wits, if you think well about your Sovereign, considering his pledge and His true token. Be ready at the proper time— there can be no delay of this errand! | Him ða ondswarude ece dryhten: "Eala, Andreas, þæt ðu a woldest þæs siðfætes sæne weorþan! Nis þæt uneaðe eallwealdan gode to gefremmanne on foldwege, ðæt sio ceaster hider on þas cneorisse under swegles gang aseted wyrðe, breogostol breme, mid þam burgwarum, gif hit worde becwið wuldres agend. Ne meaht ðu þæs siðfætes sæne weorðan, ne on gewitte to wac, gif ðu wel þencest wið þinne waldend wære gehealdan, treowe tacen. Beo ðu on tid gearu; ne mæg þæs ærendes ylding wyrðan. | 105 | 81 | 24 |
189 | 201 | andreas.txt | (189-201) | (189-201) | At once, Andrew gave him answer: “How can I, my Lord, across the deep waters accomplish this journey upon the far-flung wave, so hastily, O Heaven-shaper and Wielder of Glory, as your word instructs? That your angel can easily travel, holy from the heavens, the course of waters known to him, the salty sea-streams and the swan-road, the struggle of surf and the water-terrors, the ways over the wide-lands. There are no friends known to me there, these nobles strange—I do not know the thoughts of those men, nor are the troop-roads over cold water familiar to me.” | ædre him Andreas agef andsware: "Hu mæg ic, dryhten min, ofer deop gelad fore gefremman on feorne weg swa hrædlice, heofona scyppend, wuldres waldend, swa ðu worde becwist? ðæt mæg engel þin eað geferan, halig of heofenum con him holma begang, sealte sæstreamas ond swanrade, waroðfaruða gewinn ond wæterbrogan, wegas ofer widland. Ne synt me winas cuðe, eorlas elþeodige, ne þær æniges wat hæleða gehygdo, ne me herestræta ofer cald wæter cuðe sindon." | 98 | 73 | 25 |
1717 | 1722 | andreas.txt | (1717-1722) | (1717-1722) | “Almighty God is alone among of all creation! His might and his possession is celebrated, blessed across Middle-Earth, and his reward shines over all holy things in heavenly majesty, beautiful in glory for the length of life, eternal among angels — That is a worthy king!” | "An is ece god eallra gesceafta! Is his miht ond his æht ofer middangeard breme gebledsod, ond his blæd ofer eall in heofonþrymme halgum scineð, wlitige on wuldre to widan ealdre, ece mid englum. þæt is æðele cyning!" | 46 | 38 | 8 |
167b | 173 | andreas.txt | (167b-173) | (167b-73) | II. Then from heaven that voice was heard in Achaia, where the holy man Andrew was, instructing the people in the life’s way, when the Glory of Kings, the Creator of Mankind, the Lord of Hosts, surpassingly strong unlocked his mind-hoard to Andrew, and said thus in words: | þa sio stefn gewearð gehered of heofenum, þær se halga wer in Achaia, Andreas, wæs, (leode lærde on lifes weg), þa him cirebaldum cininga wuldor, meotud mancynnes, modhord onleac, weoruda drihten, ond þus wordum cwæð: | 48 | 35 | 13 |
161 | 167a | andreas.txt | (161-167a) | (161-7a) | Then he was mindful, the one who had established middle-earth with strong powers, how Matthew dwelt in a strange people’s misery, locked up with leg irons, he who had often suffered for God’s love before the Hebrews and the Israelites— he who had withstood strongly the magic arts of the Jews. | þa wæs gemyndig, se ðe middangeard gestaðelode strangum mihtum, hu he in ellþeodigum yrmðum wunode, belocen leoðubendum, þe oft his lufan adreg for Ebreum ond Israhelum; swylce he Iudea galdorcræftum wiðstod stranglice. | 51 | 32 | 19 |
290 | 298 | andreas.txt | (290-298) | (290-8) | The Prince of Angels, the Savior of Men, replied from the ship’s prow: “We wish to ferry you with us across the fish’s bath freely and gladly, even to that land that desire urges you to seek, after you have given your fare, a price appointed as the ship-wards, my men upon the wave-board, would wish to be given.” | Him ondswarode engla þeoden, neregend fira, of nacan stefne: "We ðe estlice mid us willað ferigan freolice ofer fisces bæð efne to þam lande þær þe lust myneð to gesecanne, syððan ge eowre gafulrædenne agifen habbað, sceattas gescrifene, swa eow scipweardas, aras ofer yðbord, unnan willað." | 59 | 46 | 13 |
143 | 160 | andreas.txt | (143-160) | (143-60) | Then they found the holy hero, wise-minded under the dark enclosure, battle-strong, expecting what the Bright King, Source-Point of Angels, wished to grant him. When time was nearly passed, the original clause of the time-mark—save for three nights— as the slaughter-wolves had inscribed it, they thought upon breaking apart his bone-rings, quickly separating body and soul, and at that moment distributing to old and young the fated flesh-home, as a meal and a grateful repast for men. These greedy warriors mourned not for life — how the soul’s journey is decreed after its death-throes. So they always ordered a feast after every thirty counts of night. There was much desire to swiftly break apart human flesh-homes with bloody jaws for their own sustenance. | Hie ða gemetton modes glawne, haligne hæle, under heolstorlocan bidan beadurofne þæs him beorht cyning, engla ordfruma, unnan wolde. ða wæs first agan frumrædenne þinggemearces butan þrim nihtum, swa hit wælwulfas awriten hæfdon þæt hie banhringas abrecan þohton, lungre tolysan lic ond sawle, ond þonne todælan duguðe ond geogoðe, werum to wiste ond to wilþege, fæges flæschoman. Feorh ne bemurndan, grædige guðrincas, hu þæs gastes sið æfter swyltcwale geseted wurde. Swa hie symble ymb þritig þing gehedon nihtgerimes; wæs him neod micel þæt hie tobrugdon blodigum ceaflum fira flæschoman him to foddorþege. | 123 | 92 | 31 |
123b | 137 | andreas.txt | (123b-137) | (123b-37) | The night-helm glided past, swiftly slipping away. Light came after, the crash of dawn. A multitude assembled, heathen warriors crowded in heaps—armor ringing, spears shaking— swollen-minded under shield-cover. They wished to prove whether their victims, while they dwelt in that comfortless place, remained alive in the prison, secured by chains— and which one could soonest be deprived of spirit according to their appointed time for eating. They, slaughter-greedy, had inscribed in both secret letters and computation, the men’s death-stick, when their victims ought to be made into food for the meat-lacking in that nation of men. | Nihthelm toglad, lungre leorde. Leoht æfter com, dægredwoma. Duguð samnade, hæðne hildfrecan, heapum þrungon, (guðsearo gullon, garas hrysedon), bolgenmode, under bordhreoðan. Woldon cunnian hwæðer cwice lifdon þa þe on carcerne clommum fæste hleoleasan wic hwile wunedon, hwylcne hie to æte ærest mihton æfter fyrstmearce feores berædan. Hæfdon hie on rune ond on rimcræfte awriten, wælgrædige, wera endestæf, hwænne hie to mose meteþearfendum on þære werþeode weorðan sceoldon. | 96 | 67 | 29 |
118 | 123a | andreas.txt | (118-123a) | (118-23a) | Then from Matthew the Holy Helm of All Beings withdrew, the Shaper of Angels, to his uppermost native realm—he is by right the King, the Steadfast Steersman in any place. Then was Matthew greatly inspired by the new voice. | Gewat him þa se halga helm ælwihta, engla scyppend, to þam uplican eðelrice. He is on riht cyning, staðolfæst styrend, in stowa gehwam. ða wæs Matheus miclum onbryrded niwan stefne. | 39 | 30 | 9 |
107 | 117 | andreas.txt | (107-117) | (107-17) | “Endure these people’s affliction! There is not much time that the pledge-breakers, sinful through spiteful art, will be allowed to afflict you with tormenting bonds. I shall dispatch Andrew immediately to you as shelter and as solace in this heathen city. He shall redeem you from this folk-hate. There is until that moment a finite number, truly a space of time equal to seven and twenty counts of night until you, one sorely aggrieved yet deserving of victory, will be allowed to depart from your constraint, from your humiliation into the hold of God.” | Geþola þeoda þrea! Nis seo þrah micel þæt þe wærlogan witebendum, synnige ðurh searocræft, swencan motan. Ic þe Andreas ædre onsende to hleo ond to hroðre in þas hæðenan burg. He ðe alyseð of þyssum leodhete. Is to þære tide tælmet hwile emne mid soðe seofon ond twentig nihtgerimes, þæt ðu of nede most, sorgum geswenced, sigore gewyrðod, hweorfan of henðum in gehyld godes." | 94 | 64 | 30 |
97 | 106 | andreas.txt | (97-106) | (97-106) | “I give my peace to you, Matthew, under the heaven. Do not be fearful in heart. Do not mourn in mind. I abide with you and shall ransom you from these limb-fetters, and all of that multitude that dwells with you in doleful endungeonment. For you, paradise is opened by holy powers, brightest of prosperities, the fairest home of all weal, a hopeful and splendid home. There you may enjoy glory and delight as long as you may live. | "Ic þe, Matheus, mine sylle sybbe under swegle. Ne beo ðu on sefan to forht, ne on mode ne murn. Ic þe mid wunige ond þe alyse of þyssum leoðubendum, ond ealle þa menigo þe þe mid wuniað on nearonedum. þe is neorxnawang, blæda beorhtost, boldwela fægrost, hama hyhtlicost, halegum mihtum torht ontyned. þær ðu tyres most, to widan feore willan brucan. | 79 | 62 | 17 |
88 | 96 | andreas.txt | (88-96) | (88-96) | After these words came a sign of glory, holy from the heavens; like a lucid banner into the prison cell. There it was revealed that Holy God had effected help when the voice of the Heaven-King was heard, curious under clouds, the eloquent noise of the famous Prince. Bright-voiced God announced cure and comfort from the battle-bold to his retainer within the harm-coffer: | æfter þyssum wordum com wuldres tacen halig of heofenum, swylce hadre segl to þam carcerne. þær gecyðed wearð þæt halig god helpe gefremede, ða wearð gehyred heofoncyninges stefn wrætlic under wolcnum, wordhleoðres sweg mæres þeodnes. He his maguþegne under hearmlocan hælo ond frofre beadurofum abead beorhtan stefne: | 63 | 47 | 16 |
76 | 87 | andreas.txt | (76-87) | (76-87) | “Give to me your mercy, Almighty God, light in this life, lest I must at length, blinded in this fortress after the sword-hate, suffer their scorn-speak by hateful sentence of the blood-greedy, these malign man-harmers. I affix my heart solely to you, Guardian of Middle-Earth— and with the rooted love of my soul, I wish to ask you, Father of Angels, Bright Bestower of Fruits— do not tally me amid your guilt-foes, the weary crime-wrights, in the worst death, O Deemer of Hosts, upon the earth!” | Forgif me to are, ælmihtig god, leoht on þissum life, þy læs ic lungre scyle, ablended in burgum, æfter billhete þurh hearmcwide heorugrædigra, laðra leodsceaðena, leng þrowian edwitspræce. Ic to anum þe, middangeardes weard, mod staþolige, fæste fyrhðlufan, ond þe, fæder engla, beorht blædgifa, biddan wille ðæt ðu me ne gescyrige mid scyldhetum, werigum wrohtsmiðum, on þone wyrrestan, dugoða demend, deað ofer eorðan." | 86 | 63 | 23 |
68 | 75 | andreas.txt | (68-75) | (68-75) | “You alone know all thoughts, Measurer of Mankind— you know the heart in breast. If it be your will, Prince of Glory, that the pledge-breakers are to put me to sleep with swords, the weapon’s edges, I am immediately prepared in this exile to endure what you wish to ordain, my Lord, Bliss-giver of Angels, Deed-origin of Hosts. | þu ana canst ealra gehygdo, meotud mancynnes, mod in hreðre. Gif þin willa sie, wuldres aldor, þæt me wærlogan wæpna ecgum, sweordum, aswebban, ic beo sona gearu to adreoganne þæt ðu, drihten min, engla eadgifa, eðelleasum, dugeða dædfruma, deman wille. | 58 | 40 | 18 |
59 | 67 | andreas.txt | (59-67) | (59-67) | Then he, weeping with wearied tears, lamented unto his Victory-lord with sorrowful speech, to the Lord of Men, the Giver of the People’s Good, in a wretched voice, and he spoke in words thus: “How the strangers have prepared for me a treacherous net, a guileful chain! Always I was on the paths, eager in heart, ever according to your purpose; now through my sorrow I must perform my deeds as cattle deprived of speech. | He þa wepende weregum tearum his sigedryhten sargan reorde grette, gumena brego, geomran stefne, weoruda wilgeofan, ond þus wordum cwæð: "Hu me elþeodige inwitwrasne searonet seowað! A ic symles wæs on wega gehwam willan þines georn on mode; nu ðurh geohða sceal dæde fremman swa þa dumban neat. | 75 | 48 | 27 |
48 | 58 | andreas.txt | (48-58) | (48-58) | They bound the hands of the holy one there and fastened Matthew by the fiend’s craft, those hell-hastening heroes. His head’s sails they burst with the sword’s edge— nevertheless he honored in his heart the Guardian of Heaven’s Realm, even though he accepted the terrible drink of poison. Blessed and resolute, Matthew with courage still worshipped the Prince of Glory wordfully, Heaven-Kingdom’s Guardian with a holy voice from his prison. Christ’s praise was wound up tightly in his soul’s box. | Hie þam halgan þær handa gebundon ond fæstnodon feondes cræfte, hæleð hellfuse, ond his heafdes segl abreoton mid billes ecge. Hwæðre he in breostum þa git herede in heortan heofonrices weard, þeah ðe he atres drync atulne onfenge. Eadig ond onmod, he mid elne forð wyrðode wordum wuldres aldor, heofonrices weard, halgan stefne, of carcerne. Him wæs Cristes lof on fyrhðlocan fæste bewunden. | 80 | 63 | 17 |
40 | 47 | andreas.txt | (40-47) | (40-47) | When Matthew arrived at the city, that notorious fortress, there was a great clamor throughout Mermedonia, a band of the wicked, a tumult of the defiled, after the devil’s thanes had learned of the noble one’s quest. Then they went against him bristling with spears, swiftly under shield—none were late— enraged ash-bearers towards the fight’s flame-point. | þa wæs Matheus to þære mæran byrig cumen in þa ceastre. þær wæs cirm micel geond Mermedonia, manfulra hloð, fordenera gedræg, syþþan deofles þegnas geascodon æðelinges sið. Eodon him þa togenes, garum gehyrsted, lungre under linde, (nalas late wæron), eorre æscberend, to þam orlege. | 56 | 44 | 12 |
33 | 39 | andreas.txt | (33-39) | (33-39) | Afterwards their druids bitterly mixed together a frightful drink through sorcerous craft for their victim— their wit was perverted, the conscience of men, their mind was altered, the heart in breast— so that their victims mourned no longer for the joys of men so that they, ravenously hungry, exhausted, tormented by famine, would eat hay and grass instead. | Syððan him geblendan bitere tosomne, dryas þurh dwolcræft, drync unheorne, se onwende gewit, wera ingeþanc, heortan on hreðre, (hyge wæs oncyrred), þæt hie ne murndan æfter mandreame, hæleþ heorogrædige, ac hie hig ond gærs for meteleaste meðe gedrehte. | 58 | 38 | 20 |
19 | 32 | andreas.txt | (19-32) | (19-32) | That whole march-land was wound in murder, the enemy’s deceit, the dwelling-place of men, homeland of heroes. There was neither bite of bread nor drink of water for Mermedonian men to relish. Instead they gnawed at blood and skin, the flesh-homes of foreign-coming men, throughout the nation. Such was their custom— that they made all strangers seeking their island from outside into meat for the meat-lacking. Such was the peaceless token of these people, the violence of the wretched, that the enemy, sword-grim and sad-minded, destroyed the sight of the eyes, the head-gems, with the point of spears. | Eal wæs þæt mearcland morðre bewunden, feondes facne, folcstede gumena, hæleða eðel. Næs þær hlafes wist werum on þam wonge, ne wæteres drync to bruconne, ah hie blod ond fel, fira flæschoman, feorrancumenra, ðegon geond þa þeode. Swelc wæs þeaw hira þæt hie æghwylcne ellðeodigra dydan him to mose meteþearfendum, þara þe þæt ealand utan sohte. Swylc wæs þæs folces freoðoleas tacen, unlædra eafoð, þæt hie eagena gesihð, hettend heorogrimme, heafodgimmas agetton gealgmode gara ordum. | 98 | 75 | 23 |
11b | 18 | andreas.txt | (11b-18) | (11b-18) | Among them was a certain Matthew who, first among the Jews, wordfully wrote with wondrous skill the Gospel. Holy God had decreed the portion for him: out to the island of Mermedonia where they do not allow any strangers to dine upon the fruits of their native land. Often he had encountered stoutly the hand of slayers in the harrying-field. | Wæs hira Matheus sum, se mid Iudeum ongan godspell ærest wordum writan wundorcræfte. þam halig god hlyt geteode ut on þæt igland þær ænig þa git ellþeodigra eðles ne mihte blædes brucan. Oft him bonena hand on herefelda hearde gesceode. | 60 | 40 | 20 |
1 | 11a | andreas.txt | (1-11a) | (1-11a) | What have we learned in former-days of glory-blessed heroes, twelve under the stars, the thanes of the Lord? Their force did not fail in the war-reckoning when banners clashed together. Afterwards they separated as the Lord himself, Heaven’s High-King, had assigned their lot. Those were illustrious men upon the earth, bold folk-leaders on the harrying-field, doughty warriors and battle-brave, when shield and hand defended their crown on the measuring-plain. | Hwæt! We gefrunan on fyrndagum twelfe under tunglum tireadige hæleð, þeodnes þegnas. No hira þrym alæg camprædenne þonne cumbol hneotan, syððan hie gedældon, swa him dryhten sylf, heofona heahcyning, hlyt getæhte. þæt wæron mære men ofer eorðan, frome folctogan ond fyrdhwate, rofe rincas, þonne rond ond hand on herefelda helm ealgodon, on meotudwange. | 69 | 53 | 16 |
138 | 142 | andreas.txt | (138-142) | (138-42) | The cold-hearted cried out to their fierce leader— one band pressing upon another— they heeded not the right nor mercy of the Measurer. Often their thoughts were taken by the devil’s edicts in the dark shadows, while they entrusted themselves to his miserable might. | Cirmdon caldheorte, (corðor oðrum getang), reðe ræsboran. Rihtes ne gimdon, meotudes mildse. Oft hira mod onwod under dimscuan deofles larum, þonne hie unlædra eafeðum gelyfdon. | 44 | 25 | 19 |
299 | 304 | andreas.txt | (299-304) | (299-304) | Swiftly then Andrew, friend-wanting, wordfully spoke to him: “I have neither ornamented gold nor money-treasure— nothing of wealth nor sustenance nor woven wire broaches, lands nor locked rings, that I can provide your desire, your wishes in this world, as you have said in word.” | Him þa ofstlice Andreas wið, wineþearfende, wordum mælde: "Næbbe ic fæted gold ne feohgestreon, welan ne wiste ne wira gespann, landes ne locenra beaga, þæt ic þe mæge lust ahwettan, willan in worulde, swa ðu worde becwist." | 45 | 37 | 8 |
174 | 188 | andreas.txt | (174-188) | (174-88) | “You must travel, bearing your peace, seeking out a journey where the self-eaters defend their domain and hold their homeland through murder-craft. Such is the custom of that multitude that they do not wish that any unkindred men be granted their lives in that folk-land, after the malicious discover the miserable in Mermedonia. Killed by wretched men, a life-parting must follow. There I know your victory-brother to languish, in fast bounds amid those citizens. There are now but three nights until Matthew must yield up his soul to the spear’s grip for the sake of the hand-strife of heathens, unless you, ready to depart, should come before.” | "ðu scealt feran ond frið lædan, siðe gesecan, þær sylfætan eard weardigað, eðel healdaþ morðorcræftum. Swa is þære menigo þeaw þæt hie uncuðra ængum ne willað on þam folcstede feores geunnan syþþan manfulle on Mermedonia onfindaþ feasceaftne. þær sceall feorhgedal, earmlic ylda cwealm, æfter wyrþan. ðær ic seomian wat þinne sigebroðor mid þam burgwarum bendum fæstne. Nu bið fore þreo niht þæt he on þære þeode sceal fore hæðenra handgewinne þurh gares gripe gast onsendan, ellorfusne, butan ðu ær cyme." | 107 | 80 | 27 |
315 | 329a | andreas.txt | (315-329a) | (315-29a) | Then Andrew, sage in his senses, unlocked his word-hoard as an answer for the sailor: “It behooves you not, whom the Lord has given money and meals and worldly success, that you should now answer with arrogance, attack us with sarcasm. It is more proper for every man that he recognizes, humbly and certainly, the man eager to depart, as Christ commanded it, the Glory-fast Prince. We are his thanes, chosen as his champions. He is by rights the King, Sovereign and Craftsman of the Glory Majestic, One Eternal God of All Creation, so he grasps all things by single skill, heaven and earth, through Holy Might, best of victories. | ða him Andreas ðurh ondsware, wis on gewitte, wordhord onleac: "Ne gedafenað þe, nu þe dryhten geaf welan ond wiste ond woruldspede, ðæt ðu ondsware mid oferhygdum, sece sarcwide. Selre bið æghwam þæt he eaðmedum ellorfusne oncnawe cuðlice, swa þæt Crist bebead, þeoden þrymfæst. We his þegnas synd gecoren to cempum. He is cyning on riht, wealdend ond wyrhta wuldorþrymmes, an ece god eallra gesceafta, swa he ealle befehð anes cræfte, hefon ond eorðan, halgum mihtum, sigora selost. | 110 | 78 | 32 |
669b | 675 | andreas.txt | (669b-675) | (669b-75) | “Yet scorn-speakingly and injuriously the high priest mocked us with hostile intent; he unfastened his hoarded coffer and wove a quarrel. He knew in his mind that we followed the footsteps of the true one, and we endured by the sentence of his teaching. The high priest quickly heaved up a hostile cry, intermingled with woe: | Huscworde ongan þurh inwitðanc ealdorsacerd herme hyspan, hordlocan onspeon, wroht webbade. He on gewitte oncneow þæt we soðfæstes swaðe folgodon, læston larcwide. He lungre ahof woðe wiðerhydig wean onblonden: | 56 | 29 | 27 |
305 | 314 | andreas.txt | (305-314) | (305-14) | Then the Lord of Warriors, where he sat on the gangway, addressed Andrew over the tossing of the shore: “How does it happen, dearest friend, that you should wish to venture to the mountainous sea, to test the measure of the sea-currents, deprived of wealth, seeking a ship across the cold cliffs? You have nothing to comfort you on the ocean-street, no bite of bread nor pure drink as befits you. Is that a fruitful custom for them that know the long sea-way?” | Him þa beorna breogo, þær he on bolcan sæt, ofer waroða geweorp wiðþingode: "Hu gewearð þe þæs, wine leofesta, ðæt ðu sæbeorgas secan woldes, merestreama gemet, maðmum bedæled, ofer cald cleofu ceoles neosan? Nafast þe to frofre on faroðstræte hlafes wiste ne hlutterne drync to dugoðe. Is se drohtað strang þam þe lagolade lange cunnaþ." | 83 | 55 | 28 |
655 | 660 | andreas.txt | (655-660) | (655-60) | “When soon the helmet of those noble men, the bright profit-giver, departed into another dwelling, there many came towards him as he praised God, to that court of debate, hall-counselors of the wise. Always they rejoiced, the merciful men, at the coming of the City-Warden. | ðonne eft gewat æðelinga helm, beorht blædgifa, in bold oðer, ðær him togenes, god herigende, to ðam meðelstede manige comon, snottre selerædend. Symble gefegon, beornas bliðheorte, burhweardes cyme. | 45 | 28 | 17 |
643 | 654 | andreas.txt | (643-654) | (643-54) | At once Andrew gave back answer: “Now I perceive the sense of wisdom and truth itself in you—triumphant capability given you with miraculous skill—the inward breast, bright in bliss flourishes from wise men— now I wish to tell you alone of the beginning and the end, ever as I heard that nobleman’s words and wisdom through his own mouth in the moot of men. Often the wide-ranging band gathered, a people immeasurable, for the judgment of their lord, where they hearkened to the teaching of the holy one. | Edre him Andreas agef ondsware: "Nu ic on þe sylfum soð oncnawe, wisdomes gewit, wundorcræfte sigesped geseald, (snyttrum bloweð, beorhtre blisse, breost innanweard), nu ic þe sylfum secgan wille oor ond ende, swa ic þæs æðelinges word ond wisdom on wera gemote þurh his sylfes muð symle gehyrde. Oft gesamnodon side herigeas, folc unmæte, to frean dome, þær hie hyrcnodon haliges lare. | 88 | 62 | 26 |
632 | 642 | andreas.txt | (632-642) | (632-42) | Then the Ward of the Way addressed him still: “I do not ask you in detraction nor slander on the whale-road, but so my mind may be elated, joyfully bound to your word’s eloquence, eternal in its nobility. I am not alone in that—but the heart and spirit of every man will be joyous, consoled far or near, who regard in their mind how that mighty one acted, the god-child on earth. Their souls turn and seek the joys of heaven, eager for the journey, the homeland of angels by that noble might.” | ða git him wæges weard wiðþingode: "Ne frine ic ðe for tæle ne ðurh teoncwide on hranrade, ac min hige blissað, wynnum wridað, þurh þine wordlæðe, æðelum ecne. Ne eom ic ana ðæt, ac manna gehwam mod bið on hyhte, fyrhð afrefred, þam þe feor oððe neah on mode geman hu se maga fremede, godbearn on grundum. Gastas hweorfon, sohton siðfrome swegles dreamas, engla eðel þurh þa æðelan miht." | 93 | 69 | 24 |
623 | 627 | andreas.txt | (623-627) | (623-7) | The Helm of Nobles answered him: “Can you, wise warrior, powerful and valiant in mind, speak in words of the power that he, brave-minded, often revealed when you all held counsel in secret whispers with the Lord, the Ruler of the Heavens.” | Him ondswarode æðelinga helm: "Miht ðu, wis hæleð, wordum gesecgan, maga mode rof, mægen þa he cyðde, deormod on digle, ða mid dryhten oft, rodera rædend, rune besæton?" | 42 | 28 | 14 |
617 | 622 | andreas.txt | (617-622) | (617-22) | Then Andrew gave him an answer: “I tell you truly that Christ very often for the counselors of the people openly made happen miracle after miracle in the sight of men, just as the Lord of men performed the people’s good in secret, so intending peace.” | Him ða Andreas agef ondsware: "Secge ic ðe to soðe ðæt he swiðe oft beforan fremede folces ræswum wundor æfter wundre on wera gesiehðe, swylce deogollice dryhten gumena folcræd fremede, swa he to friðe hogode." | 46 | 35 | 11 |
601 | 616 | andreas.txt | (601-616) | (601-16) | IV. Then the Ward of the Way further unlocked his word-hoard, the bold man upon the gangway, speaking: “Can you tell me, so that I may know the truth, whether your Sovereign made known the miracles, those he performed not a few times to comfort the people, openly upon the earth, where bishops and scholars and aldermen sat conversing at council? Out of envy it seems to me that they plotted wickedness by their deep heresy. These heroes —all too ready to depart—listened too eagerly to the devil’s instruction, to the wrathful pledge-breaker. Their fate betrayed them, seduced them and perverted them. Now they must swiftly, wearied amongst the weary, endure wrack, a bitter burning in the slayer’s bosom.” | ða gen weges weard wordhord onleac, beorn ofer bolcan, beald reordade: "Miht ðu me gesecgan, þæt ic soð wite, hwæðer wealdend þin wundor on eorðan, þa he gefremede nalas feam siðum, folcum to frofre beforan cyðde, þær bisceopas ond boceras ond ealdormenn æht besæton, mæðelhægende? Me þæt þinceð, ðæt hie for æfstum inwit syredon þurh deopne gedwolan. Deofles larum hæleð hynfuse hyrdon to georne, wraðum wærlogan. Hie seo wyrd beswac, forleolc ond forlærde. Nu hie lungre sceolon, werige mid werigum, wræce þrowian, biterne bryne on banan fæðme." | 119 | 87 | 32 |
595 | 600 | andreas.txt | (595-600) | (595-600) | “Now you can hear, dearest young man, how the Guardian of Glory showed us love with words and deeds in this life, and through his teaching urged us toward that joyous glory, that place where at liberty and blessed with the angels, those that seek the Lord after death can occupy.” | Nu ðu miht gehyran, hyse leofesta, hu us wuldres weard wordum ond dædum lufode in life, ond þurh lare speon to þam fægeran gefean, þær freo moton, eadige mid englum, eard weardigan, þa ðe æfter deaðe dryhten secað." | 51 | 38 | 13 |
572 | 594 | andreas.txt | (572-594) | (572-94) | Andrew then gave him a reply: “How could it happen in a human nation that you have not heard of the Savior’s power, dearest of men, how he made known his gift throughout the wide world, the child of the Sovereign? He gave the mute speech, the deaf hearing, the blind sight; he made the spirits of the lame and the leprous rejoice; those that had long been limb-sick, weary, weak of health, bound in torments throughout the cities. So he awoke with a word many of the various kindred of men from death in the ground-way. Likewise he, king-famous, also made known many miracles through the power of his art. He consecrated for his war-band wine from water and ordered it to change into a better sort, as joy for his troops. Likewise, he fed from two fishes and five loaves five thousand of the kindred of men. The walking troop sat down, sad-minded, united at rest, weary after the wandering, and received this meal, men upon the earth, as was most agreeable to them. | Him ða Andreas agef andsware: "Hu mihte þæt gewyrðan in werþeode, þæt ðu ne gehyrde hælendes miht, gumena leofost, hu he his gif cyðde geond woruld wide, wealdendes bearn? Sealde he dumbum gesprec, deafe gehyrdon, healtum ond hreofum hyge blissode, ða þe limseoce lange wæron, werige, wanhale, witum gebundene, æfter burhstedum blinde gesegon. Swa he on grundwæge gumena cynnes manige missenlice men of deaðe worde awehte. Swylce he eac wundra feala cynerof cyðde þurh his cræftes miht. He gehalgode for heremægene win of wætere ond wendan het, beornum to blisse, on þa beteran gecynd. Swylce he afedde of fixum twam ond of fif hlafum fira cynnes fif ðusendo. Feðan sæton, reonigmode, reste gefegon, werige æfter waðe, wiste þegon, menn on moldan, swa him gemedost wæs. | 176 | 125 | 51 |
555 | 571 | andreas.txt | (555-571) | (555-71) | Then from the ship spoke the Glory of Kings, the Beginning and the End, to Andrew, and boldly asked: “Say, thane wise in thought, if you know, how it happened that among doubting men, those men wicked in deceitful thought, the people of Judea heaved up harmful speech against the Son of God. There men not unwicked— angry and sad-minded—did not believe in their own Life-start, that he was God, even though he made known many wonders to the people, quite evident and manifest. The sinning could not recognize the king-born, he who was conceived as shelter and comfort to the race of men, to all earth-dwellers. The noble one increased in word and wisdom, but praise-holding, he always revealed openly no small deal of those wonders to those pride-eaten people.” | Him ða of ceole oncwæð cyninga wuldor, frægn fromlice fruma ond ende: "Saga, þances gleaw þegn, gif ðu cunne, hu ðæt gewurde be werum tweonum, þæt ða arleasan inwidþancum, Iudea cynn wið godes bearne ahof hearmcwide. Hæleð unsælige no ðær gelyfdon in hira liffruman, grome gealgmode, þæt he god wære, þeah ðe he wundra feala weorodum gecyðde, sweotulra ond gesynra. Synnige ne mihton oncnawan þæt cynebearn, se ðe acenned wearð to hleo ond to hroðre hæleða cynne, eallum eorðwarum. æþelinge weox word ond wisdom, ah he þara wundra a, domagende, dæl nænigne frætre þeode beforan cyðde." | 131 | 96 | 35 |
537 | 554 | andreas.txt | (537-554) | (537-54) | Then the brave-souled champion exclaimed in a holy voice, honoring the King, the Wielder of Glory, and thus spoke in words: “Be blessed, Hero of Man-kind, Delivering Lord! Ever shall your fame live! Both near and far is your holy name beautified in glory across the human-nations, celebrated for your mercies. There is no man under the heaven-vault, none of the race of heroes, who could relate or may know the count of how gloriously you deal out your favor, Prince of Nations, Spiritual Savior. Indeed it is apparent, Preserver of Souls, that you have honored this young man with such gifts, so he would be so loyal in his youth and wise in his wits and word-sayings. I have never met among his even-elders one more wise in his heart’s understanding.” | þa hleoðrade halgan stefne cempa collenferhð, cyning wyrðude, wuldres waldend, ond þus wordum cwæð: "Wes ðu gebledsod, brego mancynnes, dryhten hælend! A þin dom lyfað! Ge neh ge feor is þin nama halig, wuldre gewlitegad ofer werþeoda, miltsum gemærsod. Nænig manna is under heofonhwealfe, hæleða cynnes, ðætte areccan mæg oððe rim wite hu ðrymlice, þeoda baldor, gasta geocend, þine gife dælest. Huru is gesyne, sawla nergend, þæt ðu þissum hysse hold gewurde ond hine geongne geofum wyrðodest, wis on gewitte ond wordcwidum. Ic æt efenealdum æfre ne mette on modsefan maran snyttro." | 132 | 92 | 40 |
526 | 536 | andreas.txt | (526-536) | (526-36) | “Therefore it is an evident and manifest truth, known and understood, that you, Andrew, are the King’s own pious servant, of He That Sits in Glory, because the sea-mound, the course of the spear-waves, immediately recognized you, that you held the favor of the Holy Ghost. The sea soon retreated, the blending of the oar-waves. The terror was stilled, the broad-bosomed wave. The ford-waters were calmed after they understood that God, who by strong power established the gift of glory, was wound up in you.” | Forþan is gesyne, soð orgete, cuð oncnawen, þæt ðu cyninges eart þegen geþungen, þrymsittendes, forþan þe sona sæholm oncneow, garsecges begang, þæt ðu gife hæfdes haliges gastes. Hærn eft onwand, aryða geblond. Egesa gestilde, widfæðme wæg. Wædu swæðorodon seoðþan hie ongeton þæt ðe god hæfde wære bewunden, se ðe wuldres blæd gestaðolade strangum mihtum." | 85 | 54 | 31 |
510 | 525 | andreas.txt | (510-525) | (510-25) | To him replied the Eternal Lord: “Often it occurs that we are on the sea-way in ships among sailors, when a storm comes, breaking across the bath-way in watery horses. At times it goes laboriously with us among the waves, upon the sea, though we escape and continue the terrible passage. The flood-welling cannot hinder at once any men contrary to the grace of the Measurer: but he binds for himself the power of life, just as He binds the waters and compels and rebukes the brown waves. He must rule rightfully, he who heaved up the heavens and affixed them with his own hands; that shaped and supported the bright bounty-home filled with glory, thus was blessed the homeland of angels through his sole might. | Him ondswarode ece dryhten: "Oft þæt gesæleð, þæt we on sælade, scipum under scealcum, þonne sceor cymeð, brecað ofer bæðweg, brimhengestum. Hwilum us on yðum earfoðlice gesæleð on sæwe, þeh we sið nesan, frecne geferan. Flodwylm ne mæg manna ænigne ofer meotudes est lungre gelettan: ah him lifes geweald, se ðe brimu bindeð, brune yða ðyð ond þreatað. He þeodum sceal racian mid rihte, se ðe rodor ahof ond gefæstnode folmum sinum, worhte ond wreðede, wuldras fylde beorhtne boldwelan, swa gebledsod wearð engla eðel þurh his anes miht. | 126 | 88 | 38 |
505b | 509 | andreas.txt | (505b-509) | (505b-9) | “You are young yourself, a haven for war-faring men —not at all advanced in winters— yet you, sea-tossed, have in your soul the answer of a noble man. You know the wise sense of every word for this world.” | ðu eart seolfa geong, wigendra hleo, nalas wintrum frod, hafast þe on fyrhðe, faroðlacende, eorles ondsware. æghwylces canst worda for worulde wislic andgit." | 39 | 23 | 16 |
661 | 669a | andreas.txt | (661-669a) | (661-69a) | “So it happened once upon a time that the victory-judge went traveling, the mighty lord. There were no more people, of his own folk on that journey-way except eleven struggle-tested men, tallied among the glory-blessed— Jesus himself was the twelfth. Then we entered into the capital city, where was timbered up the temple of the Lord, high and horn-wide, well-known to warriors, beautified with glory. | Swa gesælde iu þæt se sigedema ferde, frea mihtig. Næs þær folces ma on siðfate, sinra leoda, nemne ellefne orettmæcgas, geteled tireadige. He wæs twelfta sylf. þa we becomon to þam cynestole, þær getimbred wæs tempel dryhtnes, heah ond horngeap, hæleðum gefrege, wuldre gewlitegod. | 65 | 44 | 21 |
469 | 488 | andreas.txt | (469-488) | (469-88) | Then he began to speak, keen of counsels, wise in his wits, to unfasten his word-chest: “It strikes me that I have never met a better sea-farer, a robust rower more counsel-prudent, nor more learned in his speech. Now I would like to ask you one further favor as a nobleman un-notorious, even though I am light in rings and golden riches, of things treasure-worthy that I can give you. I wish to obtain your good friendship, glory-fast prince, if I might. Afterwards you will get a share of holy joy in heavenly majesty if you are generous with your lore to those sea-weary ones. I want to discover one skill from you, royal-famed hero, that you might teach me the power and glory—such as the King, the Shaper of Men has given you— how you direct the swimming power of this wave-floater, this sea-horse drenched by the sea. | Ongan ða reordigan rædum snottor, wis on gewitte, wordlocan onspeonn: "Næfre ic sælidan selran mette, macræftigran, þæs ðe me þynceð, rowend rofran, rædsnotterran, wordes wisran. Ic wille þe, eorl unforcuð, anre nu gena bene biddan, þeah ic þe beaga lyt, sincweorðunga, syllan mihte, fætedsinces. Wolde ic freondscipe, þeoden þrymfæst, þinne, gif ic mehte, begitan godne. þæs ðu gife hleotest, haligne hyht on heofonþrymme, gif ðu lidwerigum larna þinra este wyrðest. Wolde ic anes to ðe, cynerof hæleð, cræftes neosan, ðæt ðu me getæhte, nu þe tir cyning ond miht forgef, manna scyppend, hu ðu wægflotan wære bestemdon, sæhengeste, sund wisige. | 149 | 100 | 49 |
489 | 505a | andreas.txt | (489-505a) | (489-505a) | “It chanced that I have been some sixteen times, now and again, on a sea-boat, with hands stirring the frozen ocean, the water-currents. This time is once more. Thus I have never seen any man, no might-born hero the likes of you, no steersman over the stern. The tide-swell roars, it beats the shore-boards. This boat is so well equipped; it fares foamy-necked, very much like a bird, gliding on the ocean. I know for certain that I have never seen such proficiency at sail-going across the wave-trail. It is almost like the ship stood still on land, where neither the storm nor the wind can shake it, nor the floodwaters break its sword-shining-prow— yet the ship speeds on the sea, swift under sail. | Ic wæs on gifeðe iu ond nu þa syxtyne siðum on sæbate, mere hrerendum mundum freorig, eagorstreamas, (is ðys ane ma), swa ic æfre ne geseah ænigne mann, þryðbearn hæleða, þe gelicne, steoran ofer stæfnan. Streamwelm hwileð, beateþ brimstæðo. Is þes bat ful scrid, færeð famigheals, fugole gelicost glideð on geofone. Ic georne wat þæt ic æfre ne geseah ofer yðlade on sæleodan syllicran cræft. Is þon geliccost swa he on landsceare stille stande, þær hine storm ne mæg, wind awecgan, ne wæterflodas brecan brondstæfne, hwæðere on brim snoweð snel under segle. | 124 | 92 | 32 |
343 | 348 | andreas.txt | (343-348) | (343-48) | The Eternal Lord answered him then: “If you are the thanes of the one that heaved up glory across middle-earth, as you tell me, holding what the holy one has commanded you, then I wish to carry you with joy across the sea-currents, as you have requested.” | Him þa ondswarode ece dryhten: "Gif ge syndon þegnas þæs þe þrym ahof ofer middangeard, swa ge me secgaþ, ond ge geheoldon þæt eow se halga bead, þonne ic eow mid gefean ferian wille ofer brimstreamas, swa ge benan sint." | 47 | 40 | 7 |
349 | 358 | andreas.txt | (349-358) | (349-58) | When the brave-spirited mounted into the ship, valiant and active, the mind of each was blessed upon the mere-flood. Then Andrew began to beg the Chief of Glory for mercy for the sea-farers over the waves’ toss, and spoke in words thus: “May the Lord give you glory magnificent, your wishes in this world and in the fruit of glory, the Measurer of Man-kind, as you have made your peace known to me on this voyage!” | þa in ceol stigon collenfyrhðe, ellenrofe, æghwylcum wearð on merefaroðe mod geblissod. ða ofer yða geswing Andreas ongann mereliðendum miltsa biddan wuldres aldor, ond þus wordum cwæð: "Forgife þe dryhten domweorðunga, willan in worulde ond in wuldre blæd, meotud manncynnes, swa ðu me hafast on þyssum siðfæte sybbe gecyðed!" | 76 | 49 | 27 |
359 | 369a | andreas.txt | (359-369a) | (359-69a) | He sat himself then near the Holy Helm-ward, noble by noble. I have never heard of a ship laden the more splendidly with such high-treasures. The heroes sat therein, glorious princes and proud thanes. Then the Prince of Dominion spoke, the Almighty Eternal, and ordered his angel, the famous kin-servant, to go and give them food, to comfort the destitute so that they could the more easily endure their condition over the welling waves. | Gesæt him þa se halga helmwearde neah, æðele be æðelum. æfre ic ne hyrde þon cymlicor ceol gehladenne heahgestreonum. Hæleð in sæton, þeodnas þrymfulle, þegnas wlitige. ða reordode rice þeoden, ece ælmihtig, heht his engel gan, mærne maguþegn, ond mete syllan, frefran feasceafte ofer flodes wylm, þæt hie þe eað mihton ofer yða geþring drohtaþ adreogan. | 74 | 56 | 18 |
369b | 381 | andreas.txt | (369b-381) | (369b-81) | Then the whale-mere became vexed and agitated. The garfish sported gladly through the spear-waves and the gull reeled grey and carrion-greedy. The weather-candle was obscured. Winds swelled. Waves ground together. Currents were stirred. The rigging creaked and the tackle was soaked. Water-terror stood in the strength of its violence. The thanes became timid-hearted upon the sea-currents—none of those who had sought this ship with Andrew believed that he would ever regain the land still living. They did not know yet who guided that sea-floater upon the surf. | þa gedrefed wearð, onhrered hwælmere. Hornfisc plegode, glad geond garsecg, ond se græga mæw wælgifre wand. Wedercandel swearc, windas weoxon, wægas grundon, streamas styredon, strengas gurron, wædo gewætte. Wæteregsa stod þreata þryðum. þegnas wurdon acolmode. ænig ne wende þæt he lifgende land begete, þara þe mid Andreas on eagorstream ceol gesohte. Næs him cuð þa gyt hwa þam sæflotan sund wisode. | 87 | 61 | 26 |
382 | 395 | andreas.txt | (382-395) | (382-95) | Then the holy one on the sea-path, Andrew, still a prince-loyal thane then, spoke thanks over the oar-blending to him, Counselor to Kingdoms, when he was fed: “May the Truth-fast Creator, the Life’s Light-origin, the Wielder of Hosts, make recompense unto you for this provender and give you food, heavenly bread, as you have revealed your friendship in peace to me over these mountainous waves. Now my servants, these young battle-warriors, are afflicted. The spear-waves and the gushing ocean are roaring. The sea floor is troubled, the deeps disturbed, the multitude perturbed, the power of proud men is much oppressed.” | Him þa se halga on holmwege ofer argeblond, Andreas þa git, þegn þeodenhold, þanc gesægde, ricum ræsboran, þa he gereordod wæs: "ðe þissa swæsenda soðfæst meotud, lifes leohtfruma, lean forgilde, weoruda waldend, ond þe wist gife, heofonlicne hlaf, swa ðu hyldo wið me ofer firigendstream freode gecyðdest! Nu synt geþreade þegnas mine, geonge guðrincas. Garsecg hlymmeð, geofon geotende. Grund is onhrered, deope gedrefed, duguð is geswenced, modigra mægen myclum gebysgod." | 100 | 70 | 30 |
329b | 342 | andreas.txt | (329b-342) | (329b-42) | “He said that himself, the Father of All Folk, and he ordered us to travel through the spacious earth and gather together souls, saying: ‘Travel now throughout the earth’s every corner, even so wide as the water contains or the fixed plains lie down as a street. Proclaim through the cities the bright belief across the embracing earth. I hold my peace for you. You will need to bring no ornaments on that journey, neither gold nor silver: I will provide you a bounty of every sort of good, each according to your own wish.’ Now you, a thoughtful one yourself, can hear of our journey. I must swiftly know what you would do to benefit us.” | He ðæt sylfa cwæð, fæder folca gehwæs, ond us feran het geond ginne grund gasta streonan: 'Farað nu geond ealle eorðan sceatas emne swa wide swa wæter bebugeð, oððe stedewangas stræte gelicgaþ. Bodiað æfter burgum beorhtne geleafan ofer foldan fæðm. Ic eow freoðo healde. Ne ðurfan ge on þa fore frætwe lædan, gold ne seolfor. Ic eow goda gehwæs on eowerne agenne dom est ahwette.' Nu ðu seolfa miht sið userne gehyran hygeþancol. Ic sceal hraðe cunnan hwæt ðu us to duguðum gedon wille." | 117 | 84 | 33 |
401 | 414 | andreas.txt | (401-414) | (401-14) | At once, those earls gave him answer, those thanes toil-enduring, they did not wish to suffer to abandon their beloved teacher at the ship’s stem, and choose the land for themselves. They said: “Where would we turn, lordless, sad-minded, starved for good, wounded by our sins, if we should desert you? We would be hated in every land, vile to every people, whenever the sons of men, courage-bold, hold council and discuss which of them always attended their lord best in battle, suffering straits on the war-plain when shield and hand are ground down by swords in the spite-play.” | Edre him þa eorlas agefan ondsware, þegnas þrohthearde, þafigan ne woldon ðæt hie forleton æt lides stefnan leofne lareow ond him land curon: "Hwider hweorfað we hlafordlease, geomormode, gode orfeorme, synnum wunde, gif we swicað þe? We bioð laðe on landa gehwam, folcum fracoðe, þonne fira bearn, ellenrofe, æht besittaþ, hwylc hira selost symle gelæste hlaforde æt hilde, þonne hand ond rond on beaduwange billum forgrunden æt niðplegan nearu þrowedon." | 99 | 70 | 29 |
415 | 426 | andreas.txt | (415-426) | (415-26) | Then the Prince of Realms spoke, the pledge-fast King, and heaved up a word at once: “If you are the thane of He that Sits in Majesty, of the Glory-King, as your word claims, then recite those mysteries, how he instructed the speech-bearers under the lofty sky. Long is the journey-path across the fallow waves: comfort your servants in their hearts. There is now a great distance yet to go over the ocean-stream—the land is so far to seek. The sands are churned up, the ground with grit. God can easily effect help for sea-farers.” | þa reordade rice þeoden, wærfæst cining, word stunde ahof: "Gif ðu þegn sie þrymsittendes, wuldorcyninges, swa ðu worde becwist, rece þa gerynu, hu he reordberend lærde under lyfte. Lang is þes siðfæt ofer fealuwne flod; frefra þine mæcgas on mode. Mycel is nu gena lad ofer lagustream, land swiðe feorr to gesecanne. Sund is geblonden, grund wið greote. God eaðe mæg heaðoliðendum helpe gefremman." | 95 | 64 | 31 |
427 | 437 | andreas.txt | (427-437) | (427-37) | Then Andrew wisely began to strengthen his disciples with words, his glory-speeding men: “When you all mounted upon the sea, you were mindful that you would conduct your life to a hostile people, and for the love of the Lord might suffer death, giving up your soul in the homeland of wholly evil men. I myself know that the Shaper of Angels shields us, the Lord of Armies. Compelled and rebuked by the Might-king, these water-terrors, the tossing ocean, must become more gentle. | Ongan þa gleawlice gingran sine, wuldorspedige weras wordum trymman: "Ge þæt gehogodon, þa ge on holm stigon, þæt ge on fara folc feorh gelæddon, ond for dryhtnes lufan deað þrowodon, on ælmyrcna eðelrice sawle gesealdon. Ic þæt sylfa wat, þæt us gescyldeð scyppend engla, weoruda dryhten. Wæteregesa sceal, geðyd ond geðreatod þurh þryðcining, lagu lacende, liðra wyrðan. | 83 | 57 | 26 |
438 | 444a | andreas.txt | (438-444a) | (438-44a) | “So it happened once upon a time, that the Disciples ventured a ford over the surging strife in a sea-boat. The water-ways seemed horrible and fearsome: water-streams beat the shore-boards; the sea-water often answered back, wave upon wave. Sometimes the terrors stood up from the ocean’s bosom over the wave-ship, into the breast of the boat. | Swa gesælde iu, þæt we on sæbate ofer waruðgewinn wæda cunnedan, faroðridende. Frecne þuhton egle ealada. Eagorstreamas beoton bordstæðu, brim oft oncwæð, yð oðerre. Hwilum upp astod of brimes bosme | 56 | 30 | 26 |
444b | 460 | andreas.txt | (444b-460) | (444b-60) | “There the Almighty, the Measurer of Man-kind bright in the sea-rusher, abided this. The warriors were fearful in their hearts, desiring peace, mercies for the famous. When the watery multitude began to chatter upon the ship, the king soon arose, the Blessing-giver of Angels, and quieted the waves, the welling of water. The winds were chastened, the sea subsided, the boundaries of the ocean-currents became tranquil again. Then our hearts laughed since we had seen the wind and waves under heaven’s circuit and the terror of the deep grow afraid for fear of the Lord. Therefore I wish to say to you as truth: the living god will never abandon an earl upon the earth, if his courage avails.” | on bates fæðm egesa ofer yðlid. ælmihtig þær, meotud mancynnes, on mereþyssan beorht basnode. Beornas wurdon forhte on mode, friðes wilnedon, miltsa to mærum. þa seo menigo ongan clypian on ceole, cyning sona aras, engla eadgifa, yðum stilde, wæteres wælmum. Windas þreade, sæ sessade, smylte wurdon merestreama gemeotu. ða ure mod ahloh syððan we gesegon under swegles gang windas ond wægas ond wæterbrogan forhte gewordne for frean egesan. Forþan ic eow to soðe secgan wille, þæt næfre forlæteð lifgende god eorl on eorðan, gif his ellen deah." | 119 | 87 | 32 |
396 | 400 | andreas.txt | (396-400) | (396-400) | The Shaper of Heroes replied to him from the helm: “Now let our float ferry you to dry land, the ship over the sea-fastness, and then bid your servants to alight onto the earth until your soon return.” | Him of helman oncwæð hæleða scyppend: "Læt nu geferian flotan userne, lid to lande ofer lagufæsten, ond þonne gebidan beornas þine, aras on earde, hwænne ðu eft cyme." | 38 | 28 | 10 |
461 | 468 | andreas.txt | (461-468) | (461-8) | Thus sounded the holy champion, mindful of his servants. The blessed warrior taught his thanes; he strengthened his men until forthwith they were bested by sleep, exhausted beside the mast. The sea-storm abated; the endeavors of the waves, the tempest’s sea-violence soon was transformed. Then Andrew’s spirit became gladdened by the holy one, after that spell of terror. | Swa hleoðrode halig cempa, ðeawum geþancul. þegnas lærde eadig oreta, eorlas trymede, oððæt hie semninga slæp ofereode, meðe be mæste. Mere sweoðerade, yða ongin eft oncyrde, hreoh holmþracu. þa þam halgan wearð æfter gryrehwile gast geblissod. | 58 | 36 | 22 |
87b | 93 | azarias.txt | (87b-93) | (87b-93) | “Wise is he who knows how to perceive the Preserver, who gives us all good that we possess so long as we are here, and our Mild Measurer promises us more, if we merit it, desiring it bravely, when the soul must venture away from the body, at the Lord’s behest, one apart from the other. | Wis bið se þe con ongytan þone geocend, þe us eall good syleð þe we habbað þenden we her beoð, ond us milde meotod mare gehateð, gif we geearniað, elne willað, ðonne feran sceal þurh frean hæse sundor anra gehwæs sawl of lice. | 56 | 43 | 13 |
77 | 87a | azarias.txt | (77-87a) | (77-87a) | “Bless you, Truthfast King, for the sun and the moon, beams of light, Living God, bright and clear, full of heavenly joys, worthied in blossoms. Very often you, Glory-King, allow by the breezes a mild morning rain to fall for the people’s sake. Afterwards many are the herbs which must be awakened, also the woody groves sprouting with shoots. The earthly weal is strengthened, warmed and purified. The Measurer has never owned fame so widely-known, when he for the child of man worked so kindly. | Bletsige þec, soðfæst cyning, sunne ond mona, leohte leoman, lifgende god, hædre ond hlutre ond heofondreame wæstem weorðian. Ful oft þu, wuldorcyning, þurh lyft lætest leodum to freme mildne morgenren. Monig sceal siþþan wyrt onwæcnan, eac þon wudubearwas tanum tydrað. Trymmað eorðwelan, hleoð ond hluttrað. Næfre hlisan ah meotud þan maran þonne he wið monna bearn wyrceð weldædum. | 85 | 58 | 27 |
73 | 76 | azarias.txt | (73-76) | (73-76) | “Bless you, mild father, Glory of Worldly Creation and all his works, heaven and angels and the clear pure waters and all the virtues of the earth’s creation! | "Bletsige þec, bilwit fæder, woruldsceafta wuldor ond weorca gehwylc, heofonas ond englas ond hluttor wæter, ond eal mægen eorþan gesceafta. | 28 | 20 | 8 |
65 | 72 | azarias.txt | (65-72) | (65-72) | He was in the fire, for the might of the Lord, in his holiness as a help. The heated flame was driven and diminished, wherever the three deed-bold princes praised in their thoughts, praying to bless the children of the world, all of creation, and the Eternal Lord, the Sovereign of Nations. So these three spoke, swift in their minds, through a well-known word: | Se wæs in þam fire for frean meahtum halgum to helpe. Wearð se hata lig todrifen ond todwæsced, þær þa dædhwatan þry mid geþoncum þeoden heredon, bædon bletsian bearn in worulde ealle gesceafte ecne dryhten, þeoda waldend. Swa hi þry cwædon, modum horsce, þurh gemæne word: | 64 | 46 | 18 |
42 | 48 | azarias.txt | (42-48) | (42-48) | “Fulfill now this first covenant— though they should live as our joy— beautify your wordful statements and your glory in us. Reveal your means and your might, now that the Chaldeans have asked you— and also all these many folk— that you are alone the Eternal Lord, Victory-Bold Enthroned and the True Measurer, the Wielder of Glory and the Worldly Creation.” | Fyl nu þa frumspræce, þeah þe user fea lifgen, wlitega þine wordcwidas ond ðin wuldor us. Gecyð cræft ond meaht, nu þec Caldeas ond eac fela folca gefregen habban þæt þu ana eart ece dryhten, sigerof settend ond soð meotod, wuldres waldend ond woruldsceafta." | 61 | 44 | 17 |
49 | 55a | azarias.txt | (49-55a) | (49-55a) | So the sainted man was saluting his Mild Measurer, and his inner mind stretched forth through his voice. Then from the heavens an angel all-bright was sent from above, a beautifully-shining human in his glorious coat, came to them right then as grace— the preservation of life— through love and through mercy. | Swa se halga wer hergende wæs meotudes miltse, ond his modsefan rehte þurh reorde. ða of roderum wearð engel ælbeorhta ufon onsended, wlitescyne wer in his wuldorhoman, cwom him þa to are ond to ealdornere þurh lufan ond þurh lisse. | 52 | 40 | 12 |
30 | 41 | azarias.txt | (30-41) | (30-41) | [….] “To Abraham and to Isaac and Jacob, Shaper of Spirits. You have promised them through your pronouncements that you wished to increase their offspring in days gone by, so that they were begotten after them into their royal realms, augmented on earth, to be as uncountable— a people heaved up—as the heaven-stars bending in broad orbit, unto the sea-floods— as the sands of the shore about the salty water, in waves beyond the earthen ground— so that they must become so innumerable across the course of swirling winters. | to Abrahame ond to Isace ond Iacobe, gæsta scyppend. þu him gehete þurh hleoþorcwidas þæt þu hyra fromcynn on fyrndagum ycan wolde, þæt hit æfter him on cyneryce cenned wurde, yced on eorþan, þæt swa unrime, had to hebban, swa heofonsteorran bugað bradne hwearft oð brimflodas, swa waroþa sond ymb sealt wæter, yþe geond eargrund, þæt swa unrime ymb wintra hwearft weorðan sceolde. | 89 | 63 | 26 |
25 | 29 | azarias.txt | (25-29) | (25-29) | “Now you send us into exile, into the keeping of this worst of earthly kings, into the clutches of the sword-grim—we must… the wretched punishment of heathens… | Nu þu usic bewræce in þas wyrrestan eorðcyninges æhtgewealda, in hæft heorogrimmes, sceolon we þær hæþenra þreanyd hæfdes | 27 | 18 | 9 |
16b | 24 | azarias.txt | (16b-24) | (16b-24) | “We the lively have sinned in this world, likewise we have done much stain unto our ancestors, in our overweening minds, among the town-sitters. We have broken your commandments, contemning the order of holy living. We have become scattered across the broad earth, dispersed into bands, lacking your grace— Our lives were throughout many lands abominable notorious among the earth-dwellers. | We þæs lifgende worhton in worulde, eac þon wom dydon yldran usse, in oferhygdum þin bibodu bræcon burgsittende, had oferhogedon halgan lifes. Wurdon we towrecene geond widne grund, heapum tohworfne, hylda lease; wæs ure lif geond londa fela fracuð ond gefræge foldbuendum. | 60 | 42 | 18 |
94 | 101 | azarias.txt | (94-101) | (94-101) | “And souls should praise you, Lord God, the burning fire and the bright summer, the warm weather-days, Sovereign of Men, Master in the spirit. You have made earthly weal, of so many sorts, Mild Lord, and the day and the night, Doom-fast King, should praise you and love you, light and shadow, which holds them, as wardens of the tribal nations. They work the Lord’s profound commandment so long | Ond þec, god dryhten, gæstas hergen, byrnende fyr ond beorht sumor, wearme wederdagas, waldend manna, frean on ferðe. Fremest eorðwelan þurh monigne had, milde dryhten, ond þec dæg ond niht, domfæst cyning, lofigen ond lufigen, lux et tenebre, þe þas werþeoda weardum healdað. | 69 | 43 | 26 |
55b | 64 | azarias.txt | (55b-64) | (55b-64) | This one scattered those flames, him holy and heaven-bright, of the heated fire, so that the bitter burning must be shielded from the terror of that angel, his lawfast majesty. Sweeping and driving through the power of his right hand the crackling limbs of flame, so their bodies were not harmed, yet they were inside that furnace, when the angel arrived, windy and winsome, much like the breeze when on a summer’s day a falling of raindrops is sent down during the course of the day. | Se þone lig tosceaf, halig ond heofonbeorht, hatan fyres, þæt se bittra bryne beorgan sceolde for þæs engles ege æfæstum þrim. Tosweop ond toswengde þurh swiðes meaht liges leoman, swa hyra lice ne scod, ac wæs in þam ofne, þa se engel cwom, windig ond wynsum, wedere onlicust, þonne on sumeres tid sended weorþeð dropena dreorung mid dæges hwile. | 86 | 59 | 27 |
102 | 112 | azarias.txt | (102-112) | (102-12) | “And the ships should worthy you, Christ King, our father, frost and snow, Wielder of Peoples, the winter-bitter weather and the shades of the sky, and the flickering lightning should praise you, shining, voice-bold, Warden of the Spacious Kingdom, secretly, O Lord. Always may your judgments be good and seasonable. You operate so eagerly, O Glory-King. You praise with blossoms, blessing us with fruits, and your fruit should be eternal onwards forever, Almighty God. | Deop dryhtnes bibod drugon hi þæt longe. Ond þec, Crist cyning, ceolas weorðian, fæder, forst ond snaw, folca waldend, winterbitera weder ond wolcna genipu, ond þec liexende ligetta hergen, blace, breahtumhwate, brytenrices weard, dyrne dryhten. A þin dom sy god ond genge. þu þæs geornlice wyrcest, wuldorcyning. Wæstmum herge, bletsien bledum, ond þin blæd wese a forð ece, ælmihtig god. | 74 | 60 | 14 |
153 | 161a | azarias.txt | (153-161a) | (153-61a) | “Now Ananias and Azarias and Misachel, O Measurer, praise you with mildness. Now we three young men bless God, the many-powered Father in heaven, that True Son, and that Victory-Fast Spirit. Therefore send us, Sovereign of Triumph, an angel as a favor to us, who will shelter us from the fire and the fiends, and cover us over with his wings against the burning terror.” | Nu þec Ananias ond Azarias ond Misahel, meotud, miltsum hergað. Nu we geonge þry god bletsiað, felameahtigne fæder in heofonum, þone soðan sunu ond þone sigefæstan gæst. Forþon us onsende sigora waldend engel to are, se þe us bearg fyr ond feondas, ond mid fiþrum bewreah wið brynebrogan." | 65 | 48 | 17 |
117 | 121 | azarias.txt | (117-121) | (117-21) | “And you, Holy God, the lofty peaks throughout middle-earth, should praise you meekly, the fair earth, and realm of your father. Therefore the Sovereign shaped the woody moors, requited with praise, the Herdsman of Light. | Ond þec, halga god, hea duna geond middangeard miltsum hergen, fæger folde ond fæder rice. Forðon waldend scop wudige moras, lofe leanige leohtes hyrde. | 35 | 24 | 11 |
122 | 127a | azarias.txt | (122-127a) | (122-27a) | “Bless you, Truth-fast King, for the seas and the waters, the high oceans, Holy Lord, the gloriously deep water, and the Lord’s commandment, every ocean’s flood holds it dear eagerly, when the sea-streams roil the water, for the counsellors of the Measurer. | Bletsige þec, soðfæst cyning, sæs ond wætra hea holmas, haligne dryhten, domlice deop wæter; ond dryhtnes bibod geofonfloda gehwylc georne bihealdeð, þonne merestreamas meotudes ræswum wæter onwealcað. | 42 | 27 | 15 |
127b | 131 | azarias.txt | (127b-131) | (127b-31) | “The elder kindred know that the Eternal Lord shaped the course of the watery tide, in days before, the Herdsman of Light, on whose wide-faring ambit abide the swimming of many wondrous creatures. | Witon ealdgecynd þæt ær gescop ece dryhten lagufloda bigong, leohtes hyrde, on þam wuniað widferende siðe on sunde seldlicra fela. | 33 | 20 | 13 |
132 | 138 | azarias.txt | (132-138) | (132-38) | “May they all bless you, Eternal Lord, who by your pleasure, Glory-Fast King, every one springs forth, Eternal Lord, and should praise you humbly. Very often you allow the pure waters delightful to fall from the spotless cliffs as a worldly joy. These things the King shaped for us, for mankind, as a mercy and a gathering of strength. | Bletsien þec þa ealle, ece dryhten, þurh þinne willan, wuldorfæst cyning, ond þec ealle æsprynge, ece dryhten, heanne hergen. Ful oft þu hluttor lætest wæter wynlico to woruldhyhte of clife clænum. þæt us se cyning gescop monnum to miltse ond to mægeneacan. | 59 | 42 | 17 |
139 | 144 | azarias.txt | (139-144) | (139-44) | “May they bless you, Gentle Father, the fish and the fowl, many-powered, all those that stir the rough waves, upon the broad ocean, Celebrated Lord— may they be praised, the holy and the heavenly birds those that go bouncing across the breeze. | Bletsien þec, bilwit fæder, fiscas ond fuglas, felameahtigne, ealle þa þe onhrerað hreo wægas on þam bradan brime, bremen dryhten, hergen haligne, ond heofonfuglas, þa þe lacende geond lyft farað. | 42 | 30 | 12 |
145 | 152 | azarias.txt | (145-152) | (145-52) | “May they bless you, Lord, the beasts and the cattle. May they praise the Measurer, the Child of Men with mildness, and Eternal God, the kindred of Israel. May they bless you, Soothfast King, your priests, the mild mass-makers, Wide-Known Lord, your servants, Herdsman of Peoples— likewise with the pure soul of the holy and with humble hearts, Eternal God. | Bletsien þec, dryhten, deor ond nyten. Meotud monna bearn miltsum hergen ond ecne god, Israhela cynn. Bletsien þe þine sacerdas, soðfæst cyning, milde mæsseras mærne dryhten, ond þine þeowas, ðeoda hyrde, swylce haligra hluttre saule, ond, ece god, eaðmodheorte. | 60 | 39 | 21 |
161b | 165 | azarias.txt | (161b-165) | (161b-65) | With their voices about that overheated house they turned that heathen chieftain — when the opponents of God perceived that they could not destroy the young men’s life— nor did the Measurer will it—but Christ shielded them. | Breahtmum hwurfun ymb þæt hate hus hæðne leode, ða þæt ongeaton godes ondsacan þæt hi ne meahtan, ne meotod wolde, acwellan cnyhta æ, ac hy Crist scilde. | 37 | 27 | 10 |
166 | 170a | azarias.txt | (166-170a) | (166-170a) | Then he turned to the hall, the earl affrighted, as he could most swiftly, so that he stood over his princes. Then he sent forth a prayer on behalf of the multitudes, a profound message protecting those holy ones—listening therein— a hostile-minded man: | Hwearf þa to healle, swa he hraþost meahte, eorl acolmod, þæt he ofer his ealdre gestod. Abead þa for þære duguðe deop ærende, haligra gehyld, (hlyst wæs þær inne), gromhydig guma: | 43 | 31 | 12 |
170b | 175 | azarias.txt | (170b-175) | (170b-75) | “ReadilyI know, that we have here three men, counsellors to the people, three young men, for their soul’s love bound into burning, in the limbs of the flaming fire. Now I see truly four men are in there— this is not at all my imagination. | "þæt ic geare wiste, þæt we III hæfdon, þeoda wisa, geonge cniehtas, for gæstlufan gebunden to bæle in byrnendes fyres leoman. Nu ic þær IIII men seo to soðe, nales me sylfa gerad. | 45 | 33 | 12 |
176 | 179a | azarias.txt | (176-179a) | (176-79a) | “They turn away now from the heat— it creates no discomfort for any of them— the kindling of the oven, yet there is an angel among them— he has a bright spirit— nor can the burning harm his lovely glory-robe!” | Hweorfað nu æfter heorðe, nængum hat sceþeð, ofnes æled, ac him is engel mid, hafað beorhtne blæd; ne mæg him bryne sceþþan wlitigne wuldorhoman." | 40 | 24 | 16 |
179b | 183 | azarias.txt | (179b-183) | (179b-83) | Then the lord of the Chaldeans swallowed these words, turning then to go towards that kindling, an earl resolute, so that he stood over that pyre. Then Nebuchadnezzar commanded them, the living children, to approach nearer to him from the flame. | ða þam wordum swealg brego Caldea, gewat þa to þam bryne gongan anhydig eorl, þæt he ofer þam ade gestod. Het þa of þam lige lifgende bearn Nabocodonossor near ætgongan. | 41 | 30 | 11 |
184 | 191 | azarias.txt | (184-191) | (184-191) | Nor did those holy ones despise to do that, bold-minded, after they heard the admonition of that worldly king, yet they went from the fire, lives unspoiled, beautified in their glory, so their garments were not harmed by the malice of the gluttonous gleeds, but they with their spirit-love, oppressed their affliction and knew triumph, wise in their minds, in their manners, through their forethought— they escaped the fire! | Ne forhogodon þæt þa halgan, siþþan hi hwætmode woruldcyninges weorn gehyrdon, ac eodon of þam fyre, feorh unwemme, wuldre gewlitegad, swa hyra wædum ne scod gifre gleda nið, ac hi mid gæstlufan synne geswencton ond gesigefæston, modum gleawe, in monþeawum, þurh foreþoncas fyr gedygdon. | 69 | 44 | 25 |
113 | 116 | azarias.txt | (113-116) | (113-16) | “They are and they grow, every human nation, living by your mildness, which the King beloved by us, Eternal Lord, set down before us to be useful to his own children, Celebrated Lord. | Wesað ond weaxað ealle werþeode, lifgað bi þam lissum þe us se leofa cyning, ece dryhten, ær gesette sinum bearnum to brice, bremen dryhten. | 33 | 24 | 9 |
5 | 16a | azarias.txt | (5-16a) | (5-16a) | “Measurer of everything, you are great in might sparing all men. Your name is widely known, lovely and glory-fast across the tribes of men. Your judgments upon every deed are trusty to the truthful and those set in victory — also your desires in worldly success are correct among the counselors. Wielder of the Heavens, preserve us zealously, Shaper of Souls, and by the help of your grace, Holy Lord, now we ask you for mercies in our need and in our pained necessity and out of our humility, circumscribed by flames. | "Meotud allwihta, þu eart meahtum swið niþas to nerganne. Is þin noma mære, wlitig ond wuldorfæst ofer werþeode. Sindon þine domas on dæda gehwam soðe geswiðde ond gesigefæste, eac þine willan in woruldspedum ryhte mid ræde. Rodera waldend, geoca us georne, gæsta scyppend, ond þurh hyldo help, halig dryhten, nu we þec for þearfum ond for þreanydum ond fore eaðmedum arena biddaþ, lege bilegde. | 92 | 64 | 28 |
1 | 4 | azarias.txt | (1-4) | (1-4) | Then Azarias, within inward thoughts, sainted, cried aloud through the heated flame, eagerly busied with deeds, praising the Lord, wise in his works, and with a word he spoke: | Him þa Azarias ingeþoncum hleoþrede halig þurh hatne lig, dreag dædum georn, dryhten herede, wis in weorcum, ond þas word acwæð: | 29 | 21 | 8 |
53 | 58 | beowulf.txt | (53-58) | (53-58) | Then in the strongholds was the Scylding Beow the beloved king of the people for a very long time, famous to his folk—his father departed elsewhere, the prince from this earth—until from him was soon born Halfdane the High, who held onto the joyful Scyldings, so long as he lived, ancient and ferocious in war. | ða wæs on burgum Beowulf Scyldinga, leof leodcyning, longe þrage folcum gefræge (fæder ellor hwearf, aldor of earde), oþþæt him eft onwoc heah Healfdene; heold þenden lifde, gamol ond guðreouw, glæde Scyldingas. | 55 | 32 | 23 |
1063 | 1068a | beowulf.txt | (1063-1068a) | (1063-68a) | There were chants and cheering raised together before Halfdane’s battle-leader, the singing wood was struck, verses often told, when Hrothgar’s scop must make hall-glee across the mead-benches, concerning the sons of Finn: | þær wæs sang ond sweg samod ætgædere fore Healfdenes hildewisan, gomenwudu greted, gid oft wrecen, ðonne healgamen Hroþgares scop æfter medobence mænan scolde be Finnes eaferum, | 32 | 26 | 6 |
1068b | 1075 | beowulf.txt | (1068b-1075) | (1068b-75) | When the swift conflict came upon them, and the hero of the Half-Danes, Hnæf Scylding, must fall in Frisian fighting. Nor indeed did Hildeburh have much need to praise the troth of the Jutes— guiltlessly she was deprived of her loved ones at the shield-play, of sons and brothers. they were to crumble to earth, ever since birth, wounded by the spear. That was a miserable woman. | ða hie se fær begeat, hæleð Healfdena, Hnæf Scyldinga, in Freswæle feallan scolde. Ne huru Hildeburh herian þorfte Eotena treowe; unsynnum wearð beloren leofum æt þam lindplegan, bearnum ond broðrum; hie on gebyrd hruron, gare wunde. þæt wæs geomuru ides! | 67 | 40 | 27 |
1076 | 1094 | beowulf.txt | (1076-1094) | (1076-94) | Not at all without reason did Hoc’s daughter bemourn her measured fate, after the morning came when she could look upon those murdered kinsmen under the skies, where she had cherished the world’s greatest joys. Warfare had seized them all, Finn’s thanes, except a very few— so that he could not fight a battle by any means against Hengest in the meeting-hall, nor could elbow out by force those woeful remainders, thanes of their prince. Yet he offered them a settlement: that they should extend a second space on the floor for them, a hall and a high-throne, so that they should be allowed to have control over half of it, alongside the sons of the Jutes, and at the gifting of treasure, the son of Folcwalda, should every day honor the Danes, the troop of Hengest, accustomed to rings, even as gracious with rich treasures, golden plates, just as he would encourage the Frisian men in the beer-hall. | Nalles holinga Hoces dohtor meotodsceaft bemearn, syþðan morgen com, ða heo under swegle geseon meahte morþorbealo maga, þær heo ær mæste heold worolde wynne. Wig ealle fornam Finnes þegnas nemne feaum anum, þæt he ne mehte on þæm meðelstede wig Hengeste wiht gefeohtan, ne þa wealafe wige forþringan þeodnes ðegna; ac hig him geþingo budon, þæt hie him oðer flet eal gerymdon, healle ond heahsetl, þæt hie healfre geweald wið Eotena bearn agan moston, ond æt feohgyftum Folcwaldan sunu dogra gehwylce Dene weorþode, Hengestes heap hringum wenede efne swa swiðe sincgestreonum fættan goldes, swa he Fresena cyn on beorsele byldan wolde. | 159 | 101 | 58 |
1107 | 1113 | beowulf.txt | (1107-1113) | (1107-13) | The pyre was piled high, and many-treasured gold was heaved up out of the hoard. The Battle-Scylding, the best of those blooded warriors, was readied for the burning. Upon the pyre it was easily seen the blood-splattered byrnie, the boar-crest all-golden and iron-hard—many noble men consigned by their injuries, cringing in slaughter. | Ad wæs geæfned ond icge gold ahæfen of horde. Herescyldinga betst beadorinca wæs on bæl gearu. æt þæm ade wæs eþgesyne swatfah syrce, swyn ealgylden, eofer irenheard, æþeling manig wundum awyrded; sume on wæle crungon. | 52 | 35 | 17 |
1114 | 1124 | beowulf.txt | (1114-1124) | (1114-24) | Then Hildeburh ordered her very own son committed to charring upon Hnæf’s pyre, The bone-vessels burning, consumed in the flames. Arm by shoulder, the lady lamented, mourning in verse. The fiery warrior stood tall, the greatest corpse-fire, winding up to the heavens, crackling before the barrow. Heads were melting. Wide wounds burst open. Blood spurted out of bodies’ hateful bites. Fire swallowed them all, most gluttonous of spirits—those who war had seized, from either tribe. The profits passed into nothing. | Het ða Hildeburh æt Hnæfes ade hire selfre sunu sweoloðe befæstan, banfatu bærnan ond on bæl don eame on eaxle. Ides gnornode, geomrode giddum. Guðrinc astah. Wand to wolcnum wælfyra mæst, hlynode for hlawe; hafelan multon, bengeato burston, ðonne blod ætspranc, laðbite lices. Lig ealle forswealg, gæsta gifrost, þara ðe þær guð fornam bega folces; wæs hira blæd scacen. | 80 | 59 | 21 |
1125 | 1137a | beowulf.txt | (1125-1137a) | (1125-37a) | Then those warriors departed, seeking their homes, having buried their friends, seeing their way into Frisland, their houses and high-fortresses. Hengest however bided there the entire death-flecked winter with Finn, entirely against his will. He remembered his own home, although he could not sail there on the seas, on a ring-prowed ship, the ocean welling with storms, dark and windy. Winter locked the waves with icy bonds, until there came another year to the habitations of men, just as it always does attending to time perpetually, weather glory-bright. Then the winter sank away, the lap of the earth lovely. | Gewiton him ða wigend wica neosian, freondum befeallen, Frysland geseon, hamas ond heaburh. Hengest ða gyt wælfagne winter wunode mid Finne eal unhlitme. Eard gemunde, þeah þe he ne meahte on mere drifan hringedstefnan; holm storme weol, won wið winde, winter yþe beleac isgebinde, oþðæt oþer com gear in geardas, swa nu gyt deð, þa ðe syngales sele bewitiað, wuldortorhtan weder. ða wæs winter scacen, fæger foldan bearm. | 99 | 68 | 31 |
1137b | 1151a | beowulf.txt | (1137b-1151a) | (1137b-51a) | The exiled guest went out from the yard— he thought more about a terrible vengeance than about the sea-paths, if he could call to order the miserable moot that he envisioned for the sons of the Jutes. And so he did not shun the worldly custom, when Hunlafing placed upon his lap, the battle-bright blade, the best of swords, whose edges were well-known among the Jutes. Likewise bold-souled Finn soon succumbed to baleful sword-blows within his very own home, after Guthlaf and Oslaf signified their sorrows, their grim onslaught after their sea-voyage, reproaching their woeful apportionment. Nor could such a wavering spirit be kept inside the breast. | Fundode wrecca, gist of geardum; he to gyrnwræce swiðor þohte þonne to sælade, gif he torngemot þurhteon mihte þæt he Eotena bearn inne gemunde. Swa he ne forwyrnde woroldrædenne, þonne him Hunlafing hildeleoman, billa selest, on bearm dyde, þæs wæron mid Eotenum ecge cuðe. Swylce ferhðfrecan Fin eft begeat sweordbealo sliðen æt his selfes ham, siþðan grimne gripe Guðlaf ond Oslaf æfter sæsiðe, sorge, mændon, ætwiton weana dæl; ne meahte wæfre mod forhabban in hreþre. | 107 | 75 | 32 |
1151b | 1159a | beowulf.txt | (1151b-1159a) | (1151b-59a) | Then was the hall adorned with enemy lives. Finn was also slain, the king with his retainers, and his queen taken. The Scylding warriors carried unto their ships all the household goods of that earthly king—likewise everything they could find in Finn’s home, the golden brooches, the artful gemstones. They led the lordly woman to Denmark, carrying her back to her kin… | ða wæs heal roden feonda feorum, swilce Fin slægen, cyning on corþre, ond seo cwen numen. Sceotend Scyldinga to scypon feredon eal ingesteald eorðcyninges, swylce hie æt Finnes ham findan meahton sigla, searogimma. Hie on sælade drihtlice wif to Denum feredon, læddon to leodum. | 62 | 44 | 18 |
1159b | 1168a | beowulf.txt | (1159b-1168a) | (1159b-68a) | The song was sung, the verses of the minstrel. Glee mounted back up, bench-voices resounding, the pourers giving out wine from wondrous ewers. Then Wealhtheow came forth, proceeding under her golden adornments to where two good men sat, nephew and uncle together—their peace was still whole, the one true to the other. Likewise orating Unferth sat at the foot of the Scylding lord—everyone trusted his spirit, that he had great pride, although he had not kept his kin secure in mercy in the bouncing of blades— | Leoð wæs asungen, gleomannes gyd. Gamen eft astah, beorhtode bencsweg; byrelas sealdon win of wunderfatum. þa cwom Wealhþeo forð gan under gyldnum beage, þær þa godan twegen sæton suhtergefæderan; þa gyt wæs hiera sib ætgædere, æghwylc oðrum trywe. Swylce þær Unferþ þyle æt fotum sæt frean Scyldinga; gehwylc hiora his ferhþe treowde, þæt he hæfde mod micel, þeah þe he his magum nære arfæst æt ecga gelacum. | 86 | 67 | 19 |
1168b | 1187 | beowulf.txt | (1168b-1187) | (1168b-87) | Then the lady of the Scyldings spoke: “Receive this cup, my gracious lord, dispenser of treasures. May you always prosper, gold-friend to men, and speak in mild words unto the Geats, as one must do. Be gracious to them, mindful of the giving, which you have received from near and far. One has told me that you wish to consider this warrior for your son. Heorot has been cleansed, the bright ring-hall—enjoy it, so long as you may, the goodwill of many, and bequeath unto your own kin the people and the realm, when you must look ahead to your measured fate. I know my good Hrothulf, that he wishes to hold our youthful ones in honor, if you, benefactor of the Scyldings, should leave behind the world before him. I expect that he wants to reward our sons with only good, should he remember everything we have done, while he was still a child, as an honor to his desires and his worthiness.” | Spræc ða ides Scyldinga: "Onfoh þissum fulle, freodrihten min, sinces brytta! þu on sælum wes, goldwine gumena, ond to Geatum spræc mildum wordum, swa sceal man don. Beo wið Geatas glæd, geofena gemyndig, nean ond feorran þu nu hafast. Me man sægde þæt þu ðe for sunu wolde hererinc habban. Heorot is gefælsod, beahsele beorhta; bruc þenden þu mote manigra medo, ond þinum magum læf folc ond rice, þonne ðu forð scyle metodsceaft seon. Ic minne can glædne Hroþulf, þæt he þa geogoðe wile arum healdan, gyf þu ær þonne he, wine Scildinga, worold oflætest; wene ic þæt he mid gode gyldan wille uncran eaferan, gif he þæt eal gemon, hwæt wit to willan ond to worðmyndum umborwesendum ær arna gefremedon." | 164 | 121 | 43 |
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