A beast has sudden come to this my house,
A beast of wonder, who two heads has got,
And yet the beast has only one jaw-bone.
Twice three times ten of horrid teeth it has.
Its food grows always on this body of mine,
Not flesh, not fruit. It eats not with its teeth,
Drinks not. Its open mouth shows no decay.
Tell me, Damoeta dear, what beast is this?
We can imagine the beauty of this ivory comb, with one row of sixty teeth,[245] the solid piece at the top being ornamented with a lion’s head at each end looking outwards. A hundred years later, the comb, if made in Northumbria, might have had a ridged top, with two bears’ heads, the muzzles looking inwards. It was, no doubt, this beautiful comb that played a large part in the miracles wrought by Alcuin after his death, as described at page 49.
Considering the frequent passings to and fro across the Alps in Alcuin’s time by Karl, and, indeed, by Alcuin himself, and the coming and going between Salzburg, Arno’s see, and Gaul, we should have expected more reference to the hardships of the way than we find in the letters of Alcuin.