Anglo-Saxon Literature

by John Earle

Our next and last example is a story of a well-known type, and perhaps the oldest extant instance of it:—

Eac on othrum timan hit gelamp thæt him to becom for geneosunge thingon swa swa his theaw wæs Servandus se diacon and abbod thæs mynstres the Liberius se ealdormann in getimbrode on suth Langbeardena landes dælum. Witodlice he geneosode Benedictes mynster gelomlice . to tham thæt hi him betwynon gemænelice him on aguton tha swetan lifes word . and thone wynsuman mete thæs heofonlican etheles . thone hi tha gyta fullfremedlice geblissiende thicgean ne mihton . huru thinga hi hine geomriende onbyrigdon . for tham the se ylca wer Servandus eac fleow on lare heofonlicre gife. Sothlice tha tha eallunga becom se tima hyra reste and stillnysse . tha gelogode se arwurtha Benedictus hine sylfne on sumes stypeles upflora . and Servandus se diacon gereste hine on thære nyther flore thæs ylcan stypeles . and wæs on thære ylcan stowe trumstæger mid gewissum stapum fram thære nyther flora to thære up flora. Wæs eac æt foran tham ylcan stypele sum rum hus . on tham hyra begra gingran hi gereston . Tha tha se drihtnes wer Benedictus behogode thone timan his nihtlican gebedes tham brothrum restendum . tha gestod he thurhwacol æt anum eahthyrle biddende thone ælmihtigan drihten . and tha færinga on tham timan thære nihte stillnysse him ut lociendum geseah he ufan onsended leoht afligean ealle tha nihtlican thystru . and mid swa micelre beorhtnesse scinan thæt thæt leoht the thær lymde betweoh tham thystrum wæs beorhtre thonne dæges leoht. Hwæt tha on thysre sceawunge swythe wundorlic thing æfter fyligde . swa swa he sylf syththan rehte . thæt eac eall middaneard swylce under anum sunnan leoman gelogod . wære be foran his eagan gelæded . Tha tha se arwurtha fæder his eagena atihtan scearpnysse gefæstnode on thære beorhtnesse thæs scinendan leohtes . tha geseah he englas ferian on fyrenum cliwene in to heofenum Gérmanes sawle . se wæs bisceop Capuane thære ceastre . He wolde tha gelangian him sylfum sumne gewitan swa miceles wundres. and Servandum thone diacon clypode tuwa and thriwa . and ofthrædlice his naman nemde mid hreames micelnysse. Servandus tha wearth gedrefed for tham ungewunelican hreame swa mæres weres . and he up astah and thider locode . and geseah eallunga lytelne dæl thæs leohtes. Tham diacone tha wafiendum for thus mycelum wundre . se Godes wer be endebyrdnysse gerehte tha thing the thær gewordene wæron . and on Casino tham stoc wic tham eawfæstan were Theoprobo thær rihte bebead . thæt he on thære ylcan nihte asende sumne mann to Capuanan thære byri . and gewiste and him eft gecythde hwæt wære geworden be Germane tham bisceope. Tha wæs geworden thæt se the thyder asended wæs gemette eallunga forthferedne thone arwurthan wer Germanum bisceop . and he tha smeathancollice axiende on cneow thæt his forsith wæs on tham ylcan tyman the se drihtnes wer oncneow his upstige to heofenum.

Also at another time it happened that there came to him for a visit, as his custom was, Servandus, the deacon and abbot of the monastery that Liberius the patrician had formerly built in South Lombardy (in Campaniæ partibus). In fact, he used to visit Benedict’s monastery frequently, to the end that in each other’s company they might be mutually refreshed with the sweet words of life, and the delectable food of the heavenly country, which they could not, as yet, with perfect bliss enjoy, but at least they did in aspiration taste it, inasmuch as the said Servandus was likewise abounding in the lore of heavenly grace. When, however, at length the time was come for their rest and repose, the venerable Benedict was lodged in the upper floor of a tower, and Servandus the deacon rested in the nether floor of the same tower; and there was in the same place a solid staircase with plain steps, from the nether floor to the upper floor. There was, moreover, in front of the same tower a spacious house, in which slept the disciples of them both. When, now, Benedict, the man of God, was keeping the time of his nightly prayer during the brethren’s rest, then stood he all vigilant at a window praying to the Almighty Lord; and then suddenly, in that time of the nocturnal stillness, as he looked out, he saw a light sent from on high disperse all the darkness of the night, and shine with a brightness so great that the light which then gleamed in the midst of the darkness was brighter than the light of day. Lo then, in this sight a very wonderful thing followed next, as he himself afterwards related; that even all the world, as if placed under one ray of the sun, was displayed before his eyes. When, now, the venerable father had fastened the intent observation of his eyes on the brightness of that shining light, then saw he angels conveying in a fiery group into heaven the soul of Germanus, who was bishop of the city Capua. He desired then to secure to himself a witness of so great a wonder, and he called Servandus the deacon twice and thrice; and repeatedly he named his name with a loud exclamation. Servandus then was disturbed at the unusual outcry of the honoured man, and he mounted the stairs and looked as directed, and he saw verily a small portion of that light. And, as the deacon was then amazed for so great a wonder, the man of God related to him in order the things that had there happened; and forthwith he sent orders to the faithful man Theoprobus in Casinum the chief house, that he in the self-same night should send a man to the city of Capua, and should ascertain and report to him what had happened about Germanus the bishop. Then it came to pass that he who was thither sent found that the venerable man, Germanus the bishop had indeed died; and he then cautiously enquiring, discovered that his departure was at that very time that the man of God had witnessed his ascent to heaven.

Petrus cwæth: “This is swithe wundorlic thing and thearle to wafienne.” Book ii., c. 35.

Peter said: “This is a very wonderful thing, and greatly to be marvelled at.”

In the translation of the “Comfort of Philosophy,” the translator makes his greatest effort and exerts the utmost capabilities of his language. He is not bound by any verbal fidelity to his author; he rather adapts the book to his own use and mental exercitation. In the original the author is visited in affliction by Philosophy, and with this heavenly visitant a dialogue ensues, interspersed with choral odes. Alfred sinks the First Person of the author, and makes the dialogue run between Heavenly Wisdom and the Mind (thæt Môd).

The choral odes (generally called the Metres of Boethius) must have been very hard for Alfred to translate, and they are done somewhat vaguely. We have them in two translations, one in prose and the other in verse. There is no doubt that the poetical version was made from the prose version, without any fresh reference to the Latin. The two are often verbally identical, with a little change in the order of words, and some necessary additions to satisfy the alliteration, or fill out the poetic rhythm. It was long ago observed by Hickes that the style of these poems differed little from prose; but it was Mr. Thomas Wright who first noticed that they were, in fact, merely a versified arrangement of the prose translation.

The same critic gave reasons for thinking that the versified metres were by some later hand, and not by King Alfred. This has been recently the subject of a very interesting discussion in the German periodical “Anglia,” it being maintained by Dr. M. Hartmann that they are by Alfred, and the opposite view (that of Mr. T. Wright) being advocated by Dr. A. Leicht.

When the Boethian metres make their appearance in Anglo-Saxon poetic dress, they are considerably expanded. The original prose translation is itself expansive, because the poetry of Boethius is exceedingly terse, and cannot be rendered into readable prose without enlargement. The work of the Saxon versifier is attended with further expansion, because of the mechanical exigencies of the poetic form.

The twentieth metre (iii. 9) offers an extreme case of this kind. Here the original consists of twenty-six hexameters, and the Anglo-Saxon poem has 281 long lines. In this case, however, the poetic expansion is not wholly mechanical; the poet has made some real additions to the thought. The chief of these is a new simile, in which the poising of the Earth in space is illustrated by the yolk of an egg. The prose translation runs thus:—

Thu gestatholadest eorthan swithe wundorlice and fæstlice thæt he ne helt on nane healfe . ne on nanum eorthlic thinge ne stent ne nanwuht eorthlices hi ne healt . thæt hio ne sige . and nis hire thonne ethre to feallanne of dune thonne up.

Thou hast established the earth very wondrously and firmly that it does not heel[116] over on any side: and yet it stands not on any earthly thing, nor does anything earthly hold it up that it sink not; and yet it is no easier for it to fall down than up.

The poetic version enlarges as follows:—

Thu gestatholadest thurh tha strongan meaht weroda wuldor cyning wunderlice eorthan swa fæste thæt hio on ænige healfe ne heldeth ne mæg hio hider ne thider sigan the swithor the hio symle dyde. Hwæt hi theah eorthlices auht ne haldeth is theah efn ethe up and of dune to feallanne foldan thisse: thæm anlicost the on æge bith geoleca on middan glideth hwæthre æg ymbutan . Swa stent eall weoruld still on tille streamas ymbutan lagufloda gelac lyfte and tungla and sio scire scell scritheth ymbutan dogora gehwilce. dyde lange swa.

Thou didst establish through strong might glorious king of hosts wonderfully the earth so fast that she on any side heeleth not nor can hither or thither any more decline than she ever did. Lo nothing earthly though at all sustains her, it is equally easy upwards and downwards that there should be a fall of this earth: likest to that which we see in an egg; the yolk in the midst and yet gliding free the egg round about. So standeth the world still in its place, while streaming around, water-floods play, welkin and stars, and the shining shell circleth about day by day now as it did long ago.