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0 | 0 | alms_giving.txt | (0-0) | null | It will be well for that earl who keeps inside himself, the right-thinking man, a roomy heart — so that the most of honorable intentions will be the greatest glory for the world and for our Lord. Even so this man extinguishes the flame with the welling waters, so that he cannot for long be injured in the cities with the burning brightness so he with almsdeeds shoves away entirely the wounds of sinfulness, healing the soul. | Wel bið þam eorle þe him on innan hafað, reþehygdig wer, rume heortan; þæt him biþ for worulde weorðmynda mæst, ond for ussum dryhtne doma selast. Efne swa he mid wætre þone weallendan leg adwæsce, þæt he leng ne mæg blac byrnende burgum sceððan, swa he mid ælmessan ealle toscufeð synna wunde, sawla lacnað. | 77 | 54 | 23 |
628 | 631 | andreas.txt | (628-631) | (628-31) | And so Andrew gave answer: “What are you asking me, most beloved lord, in elaborate words, when you perceive the truth of each word by the skill of the wise?” | Him þa Andreas ondsware agef: "Hwæt frinest ðu me, frea leofesta, wordum wrætlicum, ond þe wyrda gehwære þurh snyttra cræft soð oncnawest?" | 30 | 22 | 8 |
977 | 980 | andreas.txt | (977-980) | (977-80) | Then the holy one departed from him, seeking the heavens, the King of All Kings, that pure home, with humility upwards, where there is mercy belonging to every man, to those who know how to find it. | Gewat him þa se halga heofonas secan, eallra cyninga cining, þone clænan ham, eaðmedum upp, þær is ar gelang fira gehwylcum, þam þe hie findan cann. | 37 | 26 | 11 |
981 | 996a | andreas.txt | (981-996a) | (981-96a) | Then Andrew, soul-patient and mindful, a warrior hard for battle, was bolstered in his courage— he went quickly into the city, a single-minded contestant. Powerful and stout of mind and true to his creator, he stepped down the street, the path guiding him— so no man could recognize him nor the sinful see him. The Guardian of Victories had prudently concealed the beloved folk-prince from sight with his hand inside the city. When noble Andrew had pressed inwards, Christ’s champion, near to the prison, he saw a heap of heathens together, herdsmen standing before the grated door, seven at once. Death seized them suddenly, they fell ingloriously— the fatal rush grasping the sword-bloody warriors. | ða wæs gemyndig modgeþyldig, beorn beaduwe heard, eode in burh hraðe, anræd oretta, elne gefyrðred, maga mode rof, meotude getreowe, stop on stræte, (stig wisode), swa him nænig gumena ongitan ne mihte, synfulra geseon. Hæfde sigora weard on þam wangstede wære betolden leofne leodfruman mid lofe sinum. Hæfde þa se æðeling in geþrungen, Cristes cempa, carcerne neh. Geseh he hæðenra hloð ætgædere, fore hlindura hyrdas standan, seofone ætsomne. Ealle swylt fornam, druron domlease. Deaðræs forfeng hæleð heorodreorige. | 114 | 77 | 37 |
996b | 1003 | andreas.txt | (996b-1003) | (996b-1003) | Then the holy one prayed to the merciful father from his inmost thoughts, praising the Heaven-King’s Majesty on high, God’s sovereignty. The prison door buckled at once through the hand-grip of the Holy Ghost, and there he went in, mindful of courage, the battle-brave man. The heathens slept, drunk in blood, reddening the death-hall. | ða se halga gebæd bilwytne fæder, breostgehygdum herede on hehðo heofoncyninges þrym, godes dryhtendom. Duru sona onarn þurh handhrine haliges gastes, ond þær in eode, elnes gemyndig, hæle hildedeor. Hæðene swæfon, dreore druncne, deaðwang rudon. | 54 | 35 | 19 |
1004 | 1008 | andreas.txt | (1004-1008) | (1004-1008) | He saw Matthew in the murder-coffer, the stout-minded hero under the shadow-lock telling his praise unto the Lord, glory for the Prince of Angels. He sat there alone, miserable for his cares in that sorrowful house. | Geseh he Matheus in þam morðorcofan, hæleð higerofne under heolstorlocan, secgan dryhtne lof, domweorðinga engla ðeodne. He ðær ana sæt geohðum geomor in þam gnornhofe. | 36 | 25 | 11 |
1009 | 1024 | andreas.txt | (1009-1024) | (1009-24a) | Then Matthew saw his dear companion under the sky— holy man saw holy man—joyful hope was restored. Then he arose to face him and thanked God that they had ever been allowed to see each other unscathed under the sun. Peace was mutual between both those brothers, bliss renewed. Each covered the other with arms, they kissed each other and embraced. Both were beloved by Christ at heart. Light shone around them, holy and heaven-bright. Then his breast was welling with delights, when Andrew, wordfully began to greet his noble and god-fearing companion in the barred-coffer with speech, and spoke to him about the battle to come, fighting of hostile men: “Now there will be a yearning in this folk, heroes hither on…” | Geseh þa under swegle swæsne geferan, halig haligne. Hyht wæs geniwad. Aras þa togenes, gode þancade þæs ðe hie onsunde æfre moston geseon under sunnan. Syb wæs gemæne bam þam gebroðrum, blis edniwe. æghwæðer oðerne earme beþehte, cyston hie ond clypton. Criste wæron begen leofe on mode. Hie leoht ymbscan halig ond heofontorht. Hreðor innan wæs wynnum awelled. þa worde ongan ærest Andreas æðelne geferan on clustorcleofan mid cwide sinum gretan godfyrhtne, sæde him guðgeðingu, feohtan fara monna: "Nu is þis folc on luste, hæleð hyder on | 123 | 87 | 36 |
1025 | 1043 | andreas.txt | (1025-1043) | (1025-43) | …deed to seek out home After these words, the servants of glory, both brethren, kneeled to pray, sending their prayers before the Child of God. Thus the holy man in the harm-closure hailed his God and asked his Savior for succor and assistance— before their flesh perished before the battle-power of the heathens—and then led the prisoners from their limb-fetters, out of the fastness into the Lord’s peace, one hundred and forty-two men all told by count, delivered from the malice— he left none there fixed in bonds under the city’s enclosure— and furthermore, he freed the frightened women there, one less than fifty, as an increase of his host. They were glad for the journey, quickly departed— not one waited for long inside the sorrow-house, anticipating the battle. | gewyrht eardes neosan." æfter þyssum wordum wuldres þegnas, begen þa gebroðor, to gebede hyldon, sendon hira bene fore bearn godes. Swylce se halga in þam hearmlocan his god grette ond him geoce bæd, hælend helpe, ær þan hra crunge fore hæðenra hildeþrymme, ond þa gelædde of leoðobendum fram þam fæstenne on frið dryhtnes tu ond hundteontig geteled rime, swylce feowertig, generede fram niðe, (þær he nænigne forlet under burglocan bennum fæstne), ond þær wifa þa gyt, weorodes to eacan, anes wana þe fiftig forhte gefreoðode. Fægen wæron siðes, lungre leordan, nalas leng bidon in þam gnornhofe guðgeþingo. | 129 | 97 | 32 |
1044 | 1057 | andreas.txt | (1044-1057) | (1044-57) | Then Matthew departed, leading the many into the care of God, as sainted Andrew had ordered him. He had covered the host on their desired journey, with clouds lest the shield-haters should come shooting with a flurry of arrows, their old foes. Then the headstrong men held council there between them, faith-friends, before turning their two ways. Either of those earls confirmed the hope for the heavenly-realm in the other, and wordfully warded away the torments of hell. So these war-farers, heroes stout-minded, proven champions, honored the King with holy voices, the Wielder of the World’s Way, whose glory at the End of Time will never be grasped by men. | Gewat þa Matheus menigo lædan on gehyld godes, swa him se halga bebead. Weorod on wilsið wolcnum beþehte, þe læs him scyldhatan scyððan comon mid earhfare, ealdgeniðlan. þær þa modigan mid him mæðel gehedan, treowgeþoftan, ær hie on tu hweorfan. ægðer þara eorla oðrum trymede heofonrices hyht, helle witu wordum werede. Swa ða wigend mid him, hæleð higerofe, halgum stefnum cempan coste cyning weorðadon, wyrda waldend, þæs wuldres ne bið æfre mid eldum ende befangen. | 110 | 75 | 35 |
1058 | 1071 | andreas.txt | (1058-1071) | (1058-71) | Then Andrew turned back into the city, to a place where he had learned would be a moot of the fierce, folk-muster of hostile men, going glad-minded until he encountered by the border-road a brazen column standing near the street. Then he sat himself beside its base—he had pure love, an eternal high-thought for the bliss of angels. Beneath the city walls, he awaited there whatever war-deeds were his lot. Then crowds gathered from afar, the first-spears of the people. To the pens the faithless army had come with their weapons, those heathen battle-men, to their captives who had previously suffered under prison-shade. | Gewat him þa Andreas inn on ceastre glædmod gangan, to þæs ðe he gramra gemot, fara folcmægen, gefrægen hæfde, oððæt he gemette be mearcpaðe standan stræte neah stapul ærenne. Gesæt him þa be healfe, hæfde hluttre lufan, ece upgemynd engla blisse; þanon basnode under burhlocan hwæt him guðweorca gifeðe wurde. þa gesamnedon side herigeas, folces frumgaras. To þam fæstenne wærleasra werod wæpnum comon, hæðne hildfrecan, to þæs þa hæftas ær under hlinscuwan hearm þrowedon. | 103 | 74 | 29 |
960 | 976 | andreas.txt | (960-976) | (960-76) | Let it remain you in your mind how it became renowned to many men throughout many lands, how malevolent men shamed me while I was bound with wounds. They afflicted me with words, smote me and struck me—the sinning could not reveal the truth by injurious speech. Then I was stretched over the gallows, the rood reared up among the Jews, where a certain man let out blood-sweat from my side, gore onto the ground. I endured many miseries upon the earth. For this, I wanted you to become an example with a blithe heart, shown to these strangers. There are many in this famous city whom you will turn toward heaven-light through my name, although they have done many murders in days gone by.” | læt ðe on gemyndum hu þæt manegum wearð fira gefrege geond feala landa, þæt me bysmredon bennum fæstne weras wansælige. Wordum tyrgdon, slogon ond swungon, synnige ne mihton þurh sarcwide soð gecyðan. þa ic mid Iudeum gealgan þehte, (rod wæs aræred), þær rinca sum of minre sidan swat ut forlet, dreor to foldan. Ic adreah feala yrmþa ofer eorðan. Wolde ic eow on ðon þurh bliðne hige bysne onstellan, swa on ellþeode ywed wyrðeð. Manige syndon in þysse mæran byrig þara þe ðu gehweorfest to heofonleohte þurh minne naman, þeah hie morðres feala in fyrndagum gefremed habban." | 125 | 97 | 28 |
1072 | 1092 | andreas.txt | (1072-1092) | (1072-92) | The evil-thinkers expected and desired that they would obtain food from the strangers ordained as their meal. That thought sailed away after the angry ash-bearers, with their band found the prison door wide open, the hammered work unclosed and the herdsmen all dead. Then they soon turned, unhappy, deprived of their desire, to bear the grievous news. They said unto their people that they did not discover any of the far-comers, the foreign-speakers remaining there, that were alive in the prison. Instead the guards lay there gory, lifeless in the dust, deprived of breath, doomed flesh-houses. Then many of the people’s leaders grew fearful from the horrible news—abjected, sorrow-minded, expecting famine, that pallid dinner-guest. They knew no better counsel than to devour the departed guards as deathly life-bread. In a single moment, all of the door-watchmen were stirred from their deathbeds by the solemn assembly. | Wendan ond woldon wiðerhycgende þæt hie on elþeodigum æt geworhton, weotude wiste. Him seo wen gelah, syððan mid corðre carcernes duru eorre æscberend opene fundon, onhliden hamera geweorc, hyrdas deade. Hie þa unhyðige eft gecyrdon, luste belorene, laðspell beran, sægdon þam folce þæt ðær feorrcundra, ellreordigra, ænigne to lafe in carcerne cwicne ne gemetton, ah þær heorodreorige hyrdas lagan, gæsne on greote, gaste berofene, fægra flæschaman. þa wearð forht manig for þam færspelle folces ræswa, hean, hygegeomor, hungres on wenum, blates beodgastes. Nyston beteran ræd, þonne hie þa belidenan him to lifnere deade gefeormedon. Duruþegnum wearð in ane tid eallum ætsomne þurh heard gelac hildbedd styred. | 145 | 106 | 39 |
1108 | 1116a | andreas.txt | (1108-1116a) | (1108-1116a) | Then the courageous heart called out with sorrowful voice, saying he would give up his own son into their power— his young heir—in exchange for clemency to his own life. Then they accepted this gift in order to serve him up. The people were very desirous for food with a sorrowful mind— there was no joy in treasure, no hope in their hoards. They were severely oppressed by hunger, that great despoiler tyrannized them so cruelly. | Cleopode þa collenferhð cearegan reorde, cwæð he his sylfes sunu syllan wolde on æhtgeweald, eaforan geongne, lifes to lisse. Hie ða lac hraðe þegon to þance. þeod wæs oflysted, metes modgeomre, næs him to maðme wynn, hyht to hordgestreonum. Hungre wæron þearle geþreatod, swa se ðeodsceaða reow ricsode. | 76 | 48 | 28 |
1116b | 1128 | andreas.txt | (1116b-1128) | (1116b-28) | Then there was many a warrior, a war-hardy man, that burned in his breast for that young body. The miserable sign of that battle-play was widely known throughout the city, announced to many men who sought for the child’s violent death, the life of the beloved one, and took a portion for the multitude, the men and the boys. The miserable boy could find no mercy, no peace among his people, who wished his life and spirit be given to them. The wretches had sought for strife. The edge of sword, sharp and beaten-hard, stained by fire-marks, from the hand of harmers, must demand his life. | þa wæs rinc manig, guðfrec guma, ymb þæs geongan feorh breostum onbryrded. To þam beadulace wæs þæt weatacen wide gefrege, geond þa burh bodad beorne manegum, þæt hie þæs cnihtes cwealm corðre gesohton, duguðe ond eogoðe, dæl onfengon lifes to leofne. Hie lungre to þæs, hæðene herigweardas, here samnodan ceastrewarena. Cyrm upp astah ða se geonga ongann geomran stefne, gehæfted for herige, hearmleoð galan, freonda feasceaft, friðes wilnian. | 106 | 68 | 38 |
1129 | 1148 | andreas.txt | (1129-1148) | (1129-48) | The deed seemed miserable to Andrew, a people-staining crime impossible to abide — that one so innocent must quickly lose his life. That folk-hate was bold and trouble-hard— the troops trembled, proud and daring man-servants, in their desire for murder, they wished, by any means, to bruise the head of the boy-child, to destroy him with spears. God defended him, holy on height, from those heathenish folk. Andrew ordered the weapons of the men in the vanguard to melt away completely, much like wax, lest the shield-haters, those horrid opponents, harm the child with their panoply of blades. | Ne mihte earmsceapen are findan, freoðe æt þam folce, þe him feores wolde, ealdres geunnan. Hæfdon æglæcan sæcce gesohte. Sceolde sweordes ecg, scerp ond scurheard, of sceaðan folme, fyrmælum fag, feorh acsigan. ða þæt Andrea earmlic þuhte, þeodbealo þearlic to geðolianne, þæt he swa unscyldig ealdre sceolde lungre linnan. Wæs se leodhete þrist ond þrohtheard. þrymman sceocan, modige maguþegnas, morðres on luste, woldon æninga, ellenrofe, on þam hysebeorðre heafolan gescenan, garum agetan. Hine god forstod, halig of hehðo, hæðenum folce. Het wæpen wera wexe gelicost on þam orlege eall formeltan, þy læs scyldhatan sceððan mihton, egle ondsacan, ecga þryðum. | 98 | 99 | -1 |
1149 | 1154 | andreas.txt | (1149-1154) | (1149-54) | So he was released from that folk-hate, the young man from grief. Thanks be to God entirely, the Lord of Lords that gives judgment of every man, whoever wisely seeks his aid. There will always be eternal peace ready for those who can find it. | Swa wearð alysed of leodhete, geong of gyrne. Gode ealles þanc, dryhtna dryhtne, þæs ðe he dom gifeð gumena gehwylcum, þara þe geoce to him seceð mid snytrum. þær bið symle gearu freod unhwilen, þam þe hie findan cann. | 45 | 39 | 6 |
1155 | 1167 | andreas.txt | (1155-1167) | (1155-67) | Then there was a war-cry in the cities of men, an army’s loud shout. The heralds cried out, signifying their meat-lack—they stood weary, captives of hunger. Their horned halls and wine-houses stood wasted: the warriors had no need for riches to enjoy in that bitter hour. The cunning-minded sat apart in consultation, meditating upon their miseries. There was no joy in their homeland for them. Then one man often asked the other: “Let no one conceal good lore that holds it in the pith of his prudence. Now the time is come, this threat extraordinary—there is now great need that we listen to the words of wisdom-fast men!” | þa wæs wop hæfen in wera burgum, hlud heriges cyrm. Hreopon friccan, mændon meteleaste, meðe stodon, hungre gehæfte. Hornsalu wunedon, weste winræced, welan ne benohton beornas to brucanne on þa bitran tid, gesæton searuþancle sundor to rune ermðu eahtigan. Næs him to eðle wynn. Fregn þa gelome freca oðerne: "Ne hele se ðe hæbbe holde lare, on sefan snyttro! Nu is sæl cumen, þrea ormæte, is nu þearf mycel þæt we wisfæstra wordum hyran." | 108 | 74 | 34 |
1168 | 1183 | andreas.txt | (1168-1183) | (1168-83) | At that moment, before that multitude, a devil appeared, dark and uncomely, having an accursed shape. This dispenser of murder then began to inform against that holy man, the hell-hobbled designing malice, and he said by word: “Here has fared over the far wave, a certain nobleman within your city, a foreign man who I have heard named Andrew. He cut you closely when he led out from your pens more of man-kind than was appropriate. Now you can easily wreak grief-deeds in reply! Let the tracks of your weapons, iron hard-edged,give his life-house a close shave, his fated soul-hoard! Go forth boldly and humiliate this foe of men!” | þa for þære dugoðe deoful ætywde, wann ond wliteleas, hæfde weriges hiw. Ongan þa meldigan morþres brytta, hellehinca, þone halgan wer wiðerhycgende, ond þæt word gecwæð: "Her is gefered ofer feorne weg æðelinga sum innan ceastre, ellþeodigra, þone ic Andreas nemnan herde. He eow neon gesceod ða he aferede of fæstenne manncynnes ma þonne gemet wære. Nu ge magon eaðe oncyðdæda wrecan on gewyrhtum. Lætað wæpnes spor iren ecgheard, ealdorgeard sceoran, fæges feorhhord. Gað fromlice þæt ge wiðerfeohtend wiges gehnægan." | 109 | 80 | 29 |
1184 | 1194 | andreas.txt | (1184-1194) | (1184-94) | Andrew then gave the devil a response: “Harumph! You boldly instruct these people, embolden them to battle! You know the torment of fire, hot in hell, and still you hasten this army, these foot-soldiers to the fight! You are guilty against God, the Deemer of Nations. Listen you devil’s dart, you multiply your misfortunes. The Almighty humbled you from on high, and cast you into darkness, where the King of Kings laid you in fetters, and ever after, those that knew the judgment of the Lord called you Satan.” | Him þa Andreas agef ondsware: "Hwæt, ðu þristlice þeode lærest, bældest to beadowe! Wæst þe bæles cwealm, hatne in helle, ond þu here fysest, feðan to gefeohte. Eart ðu fag wið god, dugoða demend. Hwæt, ðu deofles stræl, icest þine yrmðo. ðe se ælmihtiga heanne gehnægde, ond on heolstor besceaf, þær þe cyninga cining clamme belegde, ond þe syððan a Satan nemdon, ða ðe dryhtnes a deman cuðon." | 89 | 68 | 21 |
1195 | 1205 | andreas.txt | (1195-1205) | (1195-1205) | Still the depraved one exhorted the people to the fight wordfully through the fiend’s craft: “Now you hear the enemy of heroes, the foe who has done the greatest harm to you all. That is Andrew, who strives with me alone with wrought words before this host of men.” When the sign was given to the city-dwellers, they leapt up, with an army’s war-bold cry, crowding the war-farer to the wall-gates, keen beneath their banners, with great courage to the flame-point of battle, with spears and shields. | ða gyt se wiðermeda wordum lærde folc to gefeohte, feondes cræfte: "Nu ge gehyrað hæleða gewinnan, se ðyssum herige mæst hearma gefremede. ðæt is Andreas, se me on fliteð wordum wrætlicum for wera menigo." ða wæs beacen boden burhsittendum. Ahleopon hildfrome heriges brehtme ond to weallgeatum wigend þrungon, cene under cumblum, corðre mycle to ðam orlege, ordum ond bordum. | 87 | 59 | 28 |
1206 | 1218 | andreas.txt | (1206-1218) | (1206-18) | Then the Lord of Hosts spoke a word, the Measurer strong of might said to his loyal servant: “You must, Andrew, perform a courageous deed! Don’t conceal yourself from the multitude, but set your inner thoughts fast against these strong men! There is not much delay until the moment that the slaughter-cruel will lay you in torments, in cold bonds. Reveal yourself, harden your mind, confirm your heart, so that they can recognize my power in you. Those guilty of great vice cannot— nor will they be allowed to— bestow death unto your body-house against my grace, even though you may suffer stripes and wicked blows. I am dwelling with you.” | þa worde cwæð weoroda dryhten, meotud mihtum swið sægde his magoþegne: "Scealt ðu, Andreas, ellen fremman! Ne mið ðu for menigo, ah þinne modsefan staðola wið strangum! Nis seo stund latu þæt þe wælreowe witum belecgaþ, cealdan clommum. Cyð þe sylfne, herd hige þinne, heortan staðola, þæt hie min on ðe mægen oncnawan. Ne magon hie ond ne moton ofer mine est þinne lichoman, lehtrum scyldige, deaðe gedælan, ðeah ðu drype þolige, mirce manslaga. Ic þe mid wunige." | 111 | 78 | 33 |
1093 | 1107 | andreas.txt | (1093-1107) | (1093-1107) | Then I heard that the people, the city-dwellers, were summoned together. Men came to hold council, a throng of war-farers, coming on horses, bold on their steeds, exulting in spears. When the entire nation was gathered together at the meeting-place, then they cast lots to decide amongst them who one among them should first offer his life unto the others for food-taking. They cast lots by hell-craft, reckoned between them with idolatry. Then the lot fell evenly upon one of the good old boys, one noted for his wisdom, an earl of the host, in the vanguard of the reavers. He was quickly bound after by fetter-chains, hopeless of life. | ða ic lungre gefrægn leode tosomne burgwaru bannan. Beornas comon, wiggendra þreat, wicgum gengan, on mearum modige, mæðelhegende, æscum dealle. þa wæs eall geador to þam þingstede þeod gesamnod. Leton him þa betweonum taan wisian hwylcne hira ærest oðrum sceolde to foddurþege feores ongyldan; hluton hellcræftum, hæðengildum teledon betwinum. ða se tan gehwearf efne ofer ænne ealdgesiða, se wæs uðweota eorla dugoðe, heriges on ore. Hraðe siððan wearð fetorwrasnum fæst, feores orwena. | 110 | 72 | 38 |
1219 | 1227a | andreas.txt | (1219-1227a) | (1219-27a) | VII. After these words a measureless host came, shameful lore-smiths with a crowd of shield-bearers, all swollen-minded—they swiftly bore him out and bound the hands of the holy one after Andrew, the joy of noblemen, was revealed and they could see him with their own eyes, present and triumph-eager, there on the fruiting plain where so many craved that man, the glory of the people. | æfter þam wordum com werod unmæte, lyswe larsmeoðas, mid lindgecrode, bolgenmode; bæron ut hræðe ond þam halgan þær handa gebundon. Siþþan geypped wæs æðelinga wynn, ond hie andweardne eagum meahton gesion sigerofne, þær wæs sec manig on þam welwange wiges oflysted leoda duguðe. | 65 | 43 | 22 |
950 | 959 | andreas.txt | (950-959) | (950-59) | “Now you, Andrew, must venture at once into the grip of the ferocious. Warfare is your lot, in hard sword-blows. Your carcass shall be doled wounds, your blood shall flow in a stream much like water. They will not be able to bestow your spirit death, though you will suffer stripes, the blows of the sinning. You will suffer sorely—do not let the force of the heathens move you, their grim spear-strife, so that you betray God, your Lord. Be eager for glory always! | Nu ðu, Andreas, scealt edre geneðan in gramra gripe. Is þe guð weotod, heardum heoruswengum scel þin hra dæled wundum weorðan, wættre geliccost faran flode blod. Hie þin feorh ne magon deaðe gedælan, þeh ðu drype ðolie, synnigra slege. ðu þæt sar aber; ne læt þe ahweorfan hæðenra þrym, grim gargewinn, þæt ðu gode swice, dryhtne þinum. Wes a domes georn; | 84 | 61 | 23 |
925 | 935 | andreas.txt | (925-935) | (925-35) | The All-wielding God answered him: “You have never committed so a great sin as when you made refusal in Greece— saying that you did not know how to fare on the far-waves; that you could not enter that city— that you could not perform the task within the time-mark of three nights, as I ordered you to journey across the watery strife Now you know very well that I can easily support and promote any one of my friends in any land—wherever it pleases me most. | Him andswarode ealwalda god: "No ðu swa swiðe synne gefremedest swa ðu in Achaia ondsæc dydest, ðæt ðu on feorwegas feran ne cuðe ne in þa ceastre becuman mehte, þing gehegan þreora nihta fyrstgemearces, swa ic þe feran het ofer wega gewinn. Wast nu þe gearwor þæt ic eaðe mæg anra gehwylcne fremman ond fyrþran freonda minra on landa gehwylc, þær me leofost bið. | 86 | 64 | 22 |
735 | 742 | andreas.txt | (735-742) | (735-42) | “And then that wonder dared not conceal the Lord’s behest before that host, but leapt up from the wall, the wise and ancient work, so that he stood on the earth, stone out of stone. Its voice came thereafter, loud through the hardness, its speech resounded, reproaching them wordfully. It seemed curious to the stiff-purposed, the stone’s first act. It instructed the priests in clear signs, wittily it restrained them and spoke in words: | Ne dorste þa forhylman hælendes bebod wundor fore weorodum, ac of wealle ahleop, frod fyrngeweorc, þæt he on foldan stod, stan fram stane. Stefn æfter cwom, hlud þurh heardne, hleoðor dynede, wordum wemde. Wrætlic þuhte stiðhycgendum stanes ongin. Septe sacerdas sweotolum tacnum, | 74 | 42 | 32 |
743 | 749 | andreas.txt | (743-749) | (743-49) | ‘You are wretched among the miserable minds, deluded by wiles—you do not understand well, and are troubled in mind—you call the child of God Eternal a man, when he has delineated with his own hands the ground and sea, the heaven and earth and the stormy waves, the salty sea-currents and upper heaven. | witig werede ond worde cwæð: 'Ge synd unlæde, earmra geþohta searowum beswicene, oððe sel nyton, mode gemyrde. Ge mon cigað godes ece bearn, þone þe grund ond sund, heofon ond eorðan ond hreo wægas, salte sæstreamas ond swegl uppe | 53 | 39 | 14 |
750 | 760 | andreas.txt | (750-760) | (750-60) | “This is the same All-Wielding God who your fathers knew in former days. He dispensed gifts to Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, honored them with wealth, and first spoke in words of noble Abraham’s destiny: that from his kin must be conceived the God of Glory. That event is open and manifest among you— you can now see with your own eyes the God of Victory, the Owner of Heaven.’ | amearcode mundum sinum. þis is se ilca ealwalda god ðone on fyrndagum fæderas cuðon. He Abrahame ond Isace ond Iocobe gife bryttode, welum weorðode, wordum sægde ærest Habrahame æðeles geþingu, þæt of his cynne cenned sceolde weorðan wuldres god. Is seo wyrd mid eow open, orgete, magan eagum nu geseon sigores god, swegles agend.' | 70 | 54 | 16 |
761 | 772 | andreas.txt | (761-772) | (761-72) | “After the host listened to these words throughout the wide hall, all were stunned, then the eldest soon began to speak sinfully— recognizing not the truth—they said that this was done with druid-craft, with magical works, that that bright stone spoke on behalf of men. Evil flourished through the breasts of men, a burning hot wickedness welled in their thought, a worm hostile to the fruit, a poison wholly malicious. There was evident the doubting mind through its harmful speech; these men’s mis-thoughts wrapped up in murder. | æfter þyssum wordum weorud hlosnode geond þæt side sel, (swigodon ealle), ða ða yldestan eft ongunnon secgan synfulle, (soð ne oncneowan), þæt hit drycræftum gedon wære, scingelacum, þæt se scyna stan mælde for mannum. Man wridode geond beorna breost, brandhata nið weoll on gewitte, weorm blædum fag, attor ælfæle. þær orcnawe wearð þurh teoncwide tweogende mod, mæcga misgehygd morðre bewunden. | 87 | 60 | 27 |
773 | 785 | andreas.txt | (773-785) | (773-85) | “Then the Prince ordered this glory-work to travel, a stone onto the street from that place, and go forth, treading the earth-way, to the green lands of Canaan, to deliver the message of God by teaching within that country’s borders, to command by the King’s word Abraham and his two sons first to from their earth-grave, to lay down their land-rest and gather up their limbs, to take up their souls and youth-hood, and come forth into the present renewed, sage elder-prophets, and reveal to the people which God they had acknowledged for their might. | ða se þeoden bebead þryðweorc faran, stan on stræte of stedewange, ond forð gan foldweg tredan, grene grundas, godes ærendu larum lædan on þa leodmearce to Channaneum, cyninges worde beodan Habrahame mid his eaforum twæm of eorðscræfe ærest fremman, lætan landreste, leoðo gadrigean, gaste onfon ond geogoðhade, edniwinga andweard cuman, frode fyrnweotan, folce gecyðan, hwylcne hie god mihtum ongiten hæfdon. | 95 | 60 | 35 |
786 | 799 | andreas.txt | (786-799) | (786-99) | It departed then, as the mighty Lord, the Sculptor of Men, had inscribed him, over the march-roads, until he arrived at Mambre, dazzling brightly, just as the Measurer had commanded him. There the body-homes, the corpses of the high-fathers, had been concealed for a long time. He ordered them to stand up at once, Abraham and Isaac and the third noble called Jacob, from the dirt into God’s destiny for them, swiftly from the sleep that bound them. He ordered them to gear up for the journey, to fare at the Lord’s decree. They had to reveal to those people who it had been at the first creation that arranged the all-greening Earth and the Upper-Heaven, where the Wielder was, that founded that work. | Gewat he þa feran, swa him frea mihtig, scyppend wera, gescrifen hæfde, ofer mearcpaðu, þæt he on Mambre becom beorhte blican, swa him bebead meotud, þær þa lichoman lange þrage, heahfædera hra, beheled wæron. Het þa ofstlice up astandan Habraham ond Isaac, æðeling þriddan Iacob of greote to godes geþinge, sneome of slæpe þæm fæstan. Het hie to þam siðe gyrwan, faran to frean dome. Sceoldon hie þam folce gecyðan hwa æt frumsceafte furðum teode eorðan eallgrene ond upheofon, hwær se wealdend wære þe þæt weorc staðolade. | 124 | 87 | 37 |
800 | 809 | andreas.txt | (800-809) | (800-9) | “They dared not hinder any longer the Glory-King’s word. Then those three wit-full witnesses treaded the borderland, suffering their mould-home, their earth-grave, to remain open. They wished to make known at once the Father of First-works. Then the people became frightened with terror, wherever the noble men praised in words the Prince of Glory. At last the Guardian of Realms commanded them with goodwill to seek a second journey to the blessed weal, the joys of heaven, and after that to enjoy life there, to the width of life, at their will. | Ne dorston þa gelettan leng owihte wuldorcyninges word. Geweotan ða ða witigan þry modige mearcland tredan. Forlætan moldern wunigean open eorðscræfu, woldon hie ædre gecyðan frumweorca fæder. þa þæt folc gewearð egesan geaclod, þær þa æðelingas wordum weorðodon wuldres aldor. Hie ða ricene het rices hyrde to eadwelan oþre siðe secan mid sybbe swegles dreamas, | 92 | 55 | 37 |
810 | 817 | andreas.txt | (810-817) | (810-7) | “Now you can hear, dearest lad, how he revealed a great number of miracles— however, mind-blinded men did not believe his own teachings. I know many very famous stories yet, which that man performed, the Ruler of the Skies— these even you, wise of mind-thought, could not consider or encompass in your breast.” | ond þæs to widan feore willum neotan. Nu ðu miht gehyran, hyse leofesta, hu he wundra worn wordum cyðde, swa þeah ne gelyfdon larum sinum modblinde menn. Ic wat manig nu gyt mycel mære spell ðe se maga fremede, rodera rædend, ða ðu aræfnan ne miht, hreðre behabban, hygeþances gleaw." | 53 | 50 | 3 |
818 | 821 | andreas.txt | (818-821) | (818-21) | Thus the whole long day Andrew praised the teaching of the Holy One in utterances, until sleep overcame him suddenly on the whale-road, beside the King of Heaven. | þus Andreas ondlangne dæg herede hleoðorcwidum haliges lare, oððæt hine semninga slæp ofereode on hronrade heofoncyninge neh. | 28 | 17 | 11 |
936 | 949 | andreas.txt | (936-949) | (936-49) | “Arise now swiftly, and consider this counsel at once, blessed child, so that the Bright Father will honor you with glorious gifts, skill and might, for your life’s length. You must go into that citadel, beneath the city-locks, where your brother is. I know Matthew is struck with sword-wounds, your near-kin set about with crafty nets. You must seek him, release that dear one from the hate of the hateful, and all the kindred of men dwelling with him, strangers in guileful chains, bound up in wickedness. Readily there shall be remedy in this world, in the reward of glory— such as I was telling those same men before. | Aris nu hrædlice, ræd ædre ongit, beorn gebledsod, swa þe beorht fæder geweorðað wuldorgifum to widan aldre, cræfte ond mihte. ðu in þa ceastre gong under burglocan, þær þin broðor is. Wat ic Matheus þurh mænra hand hrinen heorudolgum, heafodmagan searonettum beseted. þu hine secan scealt, leofne alysan of laðra hete, ond eal þæt mancynn þe him mid wunige, elþeodigra inwitwrasnum, bealuwe gebundene. Him sceal bot hraðe weorþan in worulde ond in wuldre lean, swa ic him sylfum ær secgende wæs. | 109 | 81 | 28 |
822 | 830 | andreas.txt | (822-830) | (822-30) | V. Then the Dispenser of Life ordered his own angels to conduct Andrew over the waves’ tumult, bearing the beloved man in their bosoms across the sea-fastness with mildness over his Father’s sea, until sleep overwhelmed the sea-weary. By the tossing breeze he arrived at the land of Mermedonia, the city that the king of angels had ordained for him. Having delivered him, then they arose, journeying blessed on the upwards way, seeking their homeland. | ða gelædan het lifes brytta ofer yða geþræc englas sine, fæðmum ferigean on fæder wære leofne mid lissum ofer lagufæsten, oððæt sæwerige slæp ofereode. þurh lyftgelac on land becwom to þære ceastre þe him cining engla ða þa aras siðigean, eadige on upweg, eðles neosan. | 75 | 45 | 30 |
839 | 856 | andreas.txt | (839-856) | (839-56) | Then Andrew awoke, resolute for the fight, and looked upon the plain before the city-gates. Lofty mountains and hillsides towered there, and beyond a hoary stone, tile-faced buildings and towers stood with windy walls. Then that wise man recognized that he had reached the nation of Mermedonia by journey, just as the Father of Mankind himself had commanded him, when he had assigned him this voyage. Then he saw his disciples in the sand, battle-ready warriors, dreaming in sleep. The war-farer at once began to awaken them and spoke by word: “I can tell you a plain truth, that yesterday upon the stream of the sea, across the oar-weal, a nobleman ferried us. In that ship was the King of Glory, the Wielder of Human Lands. I recognized his word though he had obscured his aspect.” | Onwoc þa wiges heard, (wang sceawode), fore burggeatum. Beorgas steape, hleoðu hlifodon, ymbe harne stan tigelfagan trafu, torras stodon, windige weallas. þa se wisa oncneow þæt he Marmedonia mægðe hæfde siðe gesohte, swa him sylf bebead, þa he him fore gescraf, fæder mancynnes. Geseh he þa on greote gingran sine, beornas beadurofe, biryhte him swefan on slæpe. He sona ongann wigend weccean, ond worde cwæð: "Ic eow secgan mæg soð orgete, þæt us gystrandæge on geofones stream ofer arwelan æðeling ferede. In þam ceole wæs cyninga wuldor, waldend werðeode. Ic his word oncneow, þeh he his mægwlite bemiðen hæfde." | 136 | 99 | 37 |
857 | 861 | andreas.txt | (857-861) | (857-61) | Then these young noblemen answered him with spiritual mysteries as reply: “We shall gladly reveal to you, Andrew, our journey, so that you can wisely understand it in your own soul’s thoughts. | Him þa æðelingas ondsweorodon, geonge gencwidum, gastgerynum: "We ðe, Andreas, eaðe gecyðað sið userne, þæt ðu sylfa miht ongitan gleawlice gastgehygdum. | 32 | 21 | 11 |
862 | 867 | andreas.txt | (862-867) | (862-7) | “Sleep overcame us, sea-weary, then over the welling waves came eagles— faring in flight, exultant in feathers, and tore us by the soul from slumber, with joy they ferried us, flying upon the breeze, with joyful noises, bright and gracious. | Us sæwerige slæp ofereode. þa comon earnas ofer yða wylm faran on flyhte, feðerum hremige, us ofslæpendum sawle abrugdon, mid gefean feredon flyhte on lyfte, brehtmum bliðe, beorhte ond liðe. | 40 | 30 | 10 |
868 | 874 | andreas.txt | (868-874) | (868-74) | “They loved mildly and dwelt in praise— there was song everlasting, heaven coursing— a beautiful gathering of hosts, a glorious press. The angels stood all about their homeland, thanes about their prince, by their thousands— they praised the Lord of Lords with sacred voices on high. Joyous expectation was their pleasure. | Lissum lufodon ond in lofe wunedon, þær wæs singal sang ond swegles gong, wlitig weoroda heap ond wuldres þreat. Utan ymbe æðelne englas stodon, þegnas ymb þeoden, þusendmælum, heredon on hehðo halgan stefne dryhtna dryhten. Dream wæs on hyhte. | 51 | 39 | 12 |
875 | 885a | andreas.txt | (875-885a) | (875-85a) | “We recognized there holy high-fathers and no small force of martyrs, singing praises to the Soothfast Victory-Lord, a multitude judgment-ready. There was David among them, the blessed warrior, Jesse’s son, come before Christ, King of Israel. Likewise we saw you all standing before the Son of the Creator, twelve men all told, eternal in your genius, glory-blessed heroes. Holy arch-angels served you, sitting in majesty. | We ðær heahfæderas halige oncneowon ond martyra mægen unlytel, sungon sigedryhtne soðfæstlic lof, dugoð domgeorne. þær wæs Dauid mid, eadig oretta, Essages sunu, for Crist cumen, cining Israhela. Swylce we gesegon for suna meotudes, æðelum ecne, eowic standan, twelfe getealde, tireadige hæleð. Eow þegnodon þrymsittende, halige heahenglas. | 65 | 47 | 18 |
885b | 891 | andreas.txt | (885b-891) | (885b-91) | “It will be well for those heroes allowed to brook that bliss. An ecstasy of glory was there, a magnificence of war-faring, a noble beginning— there was there no strife for any of them. Banishment will be ordained and torment revealed for those who should become the enemy of those joys when they go hence: they shall wander in abjection.” | ðam bið hæleða well þe þara blissa brucan moton. þær wæs wuldres wynn, wigendra þrym, æðelic onginn, næs þær ænigum gewinn. þam bið wræcsið witod, wite geopenad, þe þara gefeana sceal fremde weorðan, hean hwearfian, þonne heonon gangaþ." | 60 | 38 | 22 |
892 | 909 | andreas.txt | (892-909) | (892-909) | Then was the heart’s understanding of the holy one greatly elated in his breast, after he had heard the story of his disciples, how God wished to esteem them so much over all men—and the shelter of war-farers spoke by word: “Now I have perceived, Lord God, that you were never far upon the sea-road, Glory of Kings, when I climbed into the ship, though on the wave-voyage I did not know how to recognize you, Prince of Angels, Savior of Souls. Be merciful to me now and be kind—O Measurer Almighty, O Bright King! “I spoke many a word upon the salt-stream, and afterwards, now I know who ferried me over the floods in a wooden ship, worth-minded. That one is the Spirit of Comfort of Warrior-kind. Help is ready there, mercy among the famous, the power for victory will be given to everyone, those who seek him.” | þa wæs modsefa myclum geblissod haliges on hreðre, syðþan hleoðorcwide gingran gehyrdon, þæt hie god wolde onmunan swa mycles ofer menn ealle, ond þæt word gecwæð wigendra hleo: "Nu ic, god dryhten, ongiten hæbbe þæt ðu on faroðstræte feor ne wære, cyninga wuldur, þa ic on ceol gestah, ðeh ic on yðfare, engla þeoden, gasta geocend, ongitan ne cuðe. Weorð me nu milde, meotud ælmihtig, bliðe, beorht cyning! Ic on brimstreame spræc worda worn, wat æfter nu hwa me wyrðmyndum on wudubate ferede ofer flodas. þæt is frofre gast hæleða cynne. þær is help gearu, milts æt mærum, manna gehwylcum, sigorsped geseald, þam þe seceð to him." | 149 | 107 | 42 |
910 | 917 | andreas.txt | (910-917) | (910-7) | Then, at that same moment, before their eyes, the Prince revealed himself to their view, the King of All That Lives, in the shape of a child. Then he spoke a word, the Chief of Glory: “Hail to you, Andrew, and your blessed band, exulting in spirit! I have held peace for you so that your wicked foes, these grim grief-smiths, can not harm your soul.” | ða him fore eagum onsyne wearð æðeling oðywed in þa ilcan tid, cining cwicera gehwæs, þurh cnihtes had. þa he worde cwæð, wuldres aldor: "Wes ðu, Andreas, hal, mid þas willgedryht, ferðgefeonde! Ic þe friðe healde, þæt þe ne moton mangeniðlan, grame grynsmiðas, gaste gesceððan." | 66 | 45 | 21 |
918 | 924 | andreas.txt | (918-924) | (918-24) | Andrew fell to the ground then, the wise warrior wordfully begging for peace, and asked his cherished lord: “How I deserved it, sinning against your self, Wielder of Men, that I could not recognize one so good, the Savior of Souls, upon the wave-journey, where I spoke about my Measurer— in many more words than I should have.” | Feoll þa to foldan, frioðo wilnode wordum wis hæleð, winedryhten frægn: "Hu geworhte ic þæt, waldend fira, synnig wið seolfne, sawla nergend, þæt ic þe swa godne ongitan ne meahte on wægfære, þær ic worda gespræc minra for meotude ma þonne ic sceolde?" | 58 | 43 | 15 |
831 | 838 | andreas.txt | (831-838) | (831-38) | They left the holy one by the war-street, dreaming in peace under the shelter of heaven, waiting blithely near the city-wall, near his hated foes, for a night’s length, until the Lord released the day-candle to shine brightly. The shadows abated, dark under the clouds. Then came the breeze’s blazing, a clear heaven-light, sparkling over the houses. | Leton þone halgan be herestræte swefan on sybbe under swegles hleo, bliðne bidan burhwealle neh, his niðhetum, nihtlangne fyrst, oðþæt dryhten forlet dægcandelle scire scinan. Sceadu sweðerodon, wonn under wolcnum. þa com wederes blæst, hador heofonleoma, ofer hofu blican. | 57 | 39 | 18 |
1227b | 1238a | andreas.txt | (1227b-1238a) | (1227b-38a) | They were little aggrieved about what recompense would come to them after. The malignant enemy ordered him to be led across the land-shares, pulling him along from time to time in such a way as they found most savage. They dragged him, daring-minded and stout-hearted, across hill-scarps and along rocky slopes— even as widely as where the old paths were lying, the work of giants within their cities, streets stone-paved. A tempest of the heathen army was reared up throughout the city’s houses. It was no small commotion. | Lyt sorgodon hwylc him þæt edlean æfter wurde. Heton þa lædan ofer landsceare, ðragmælum teon, torngeniðlan, swa hie hit frecnost findan meahton. Drogon deormodne æfter dunscræfum, ymb stanhleoðo, stærcedferþne, efne swa wide swa wegas to lagon, enta ærgeweorc, innan burgum, stræte stanfage. Storm upp aras æfter ceasterhofum, cirm unlytel hæðnes heriges. | 88 | 51 | 37 |
1238b | 1252 | andreas.txt | (1238b-1252) | (1238b-52) | The body of that holy man was sodden with sore wounds, bedewed with blood, his bone-house broken. Blood welled out in waves of hot gore — though he had courage unwavering within him. That noble mind was sundered from sins even though he was to suffer so many pains in deep wound-blows. So he was beaten, triumph-bright, all day long until evening came. Pain soon pervaded the warrior’s breast until the bright sun, heaven-radiant, slid towards its setting. Then the people led their hated adversary to prison. Regardless Andrew was dear to Christ in his mind— the hallowed thought was light about his heart, his purpose strong. | Wæs þæs halgan lic sarbennum soden, swate bestemed, banhus abrocen. Blod yðum weoll, hatan heolfre. Hæfde him on innan ellen untweonde, wæs þæt æðele mod asundrad fram synnum, þeah he sares swa feala deopum dolgslegum dreogan sceolde. Swa wæs ealne dæg oððæt æfen com sigetorht swungen. Sar eft gewod ymb þæs beornes breost, oðþæt beorht gewat sunne swegeltorht to sete glidan. Læddan þa leode laðne gewinnan to carcerne. He wæs Criste swa þeah leof on mode. Him wæs leoht sefa halig heortan neh, hige untyddre. | 107 | 85 | 22 |
1253 | 1269a | andreas.txt | (1253-1269a) | (1253-69a) | Then the holy man was beset with cunning wiles the whole night, an earl courage-hard under the gloom-shade. Snow bound up the earth in winter-casts. The breeze grew chilly, hard with hail-showers, such ice and frost. White war-steppers fastened the homeland of men, the households of the people. The lands were frozen with cold icicles of rime. The water’s power withered across the river-currents and ice bridged the murky sea-road. Andrew the blithe-hearted remained bold and trouble-fast in his consigned compulsions the winter-cold night long, an earl not infamous, mindful of daring. He did not cease in his intention, trembling from this terror, which he had earlier begun— he praised ever the Lord most glorious and worshipped him wordfully, until the gem of glory, heaven-bright, was unclosed. | þa se halga wæs under heolstorscuwan, eorl ellenheard, ondlange niht searoþancum beseted. Snaw eorðan band wintergeworpum. Weder coledon heardum hægelscurum, swylce hrim ond forst, hare hildstapan, hæleða eðel lucon, leoda gesetu. Land wæron freorig cealdum cylegicelum, clang wæteres þrym ofer eastreamas, is brycgade blæce brimrade. Bliðheort wunode eorl unforcuð, elnes gemyndig, þrist ond þrohtheard in þreanedum wintercealdan niht. No on gewitte blon, acol for þy egesan, þæs þe he ær ongann, þæt he a domlicost dryhten herede, weorðade wordum, oððæt wuldres gim heofontorht onhlad. | 127 | 84 | 43 |
1517 | 1521 | andreas.txt | (1517-1521) | (1517-21) | “Now you can perceive how the King of Angels has adorned you in former days more greatly with gifts that any kind of gemstone. Through his holy behest you shall swiftly reveal if you have understood any of his words.” | Nu ðu miht gecnawan þæt þe cyning engla gefrætwode furður mycle giofum geardagum þonne eall gimma cynn. þurh his halige hæs þu scealt hræðe cyðan gif ðu his ondgitan ænige hæbbe." | 40 | 31 | 9 |
1522 | 1535 | andreas.txt | (1522-1535) | (1522-35) | There was then not a whit more delay in speech when the stone sundered itself. Rushing water gushed out, flowed over the earth. Foamy billows covered the ground by early day, as the sea-flood increased. A mead-service was made after the feast-day, the armored men torn from their slumber. Water seized the ground, disturbed the deep. The multitude became terrified by fear of the flood. Doomed they died, the young taken away by the ocean’s sortie, by the salty waves. That was a sorrowful brewing, a bitter beer-taking. The cup-bearers delayed not, the attending servants. There was enough drink immediately ready for all from the start of day. | Næs þa wordlatu wihte þon mare þæt se stan togan. Stream ut aweoll, fleow ofer foldan. Famige walcan mid ærdæge eorðan þehton, myclade mereflod. Meoduscerwen wearð æfter symbeldæge, slæpe tobrugdon searuhæbbende. Sund grunde onfeng, deope gedrefed. Duguð wearð afyrhted þurh þæs flodes fær. Fæge swulton, geonge on geofene guðræs fornam þurh sealtne weg. þæt wæs sorgbyrþen, biter beorþegu. Byrlas ne gældon, ombehtþegnas. þær wæs ælcum genog fram dæges orde drync sona gearu. | 108 | 72 | 36 |
1536 | 1549 | andreas.txt | (1536-1549) | (1536-49) | The majesty of the flood increased. The men lamented, the spear-bearers of old. It was their intention to flee away from the fallow flood, wishing to save their lives, seeking survival in earthen-caves, the support of high ground. But an angel defended that place, who covered the city then with a glittering flame, a fiery battle-tongue. There was tempest within and a beating sea; nor could the company of warriors survive by fleeing the fastness. The waters swelled, the breakers crashed, fiery sparks flew about, the deluge boiled with waves. It was easy to find there within the city those driven to sing their sorrows. Many fright-hearted people signaled their grief and sang a death-song. | Weox wæteres þrym. Weras cwanedon, ealde æscberend. Wæs him ut myne fleon fealone stream, woldon feore beorgan, to dunscræfum drohtað secan, eorðan ondwist. Him þæt engel forstod, se ða burh oferbrægd blacan lige, hatan heaðowælme. Hreoh wæs þær inne beatende brim. Ne mihte beorna hloð of þam fæstenne fleame spowan. Wægas weoxon, wadu hlynsodon, flugon fyrgnastas, flod yðum weoll. ðær wæs yðfynde innan burgum geomorgidd wrecen. Gehðo mændan forhtferð manig, fusleoð golon. | 115 | 72 | 43 |
1550 | 1557 | andreas.txt | (1550-1557) | (1550-7) | The terrifying holocaust was readily visible, a dire devastation and its awful voice. Dancing in the wind blasts of flame encircled the walls and the flood continued to swell. Here was human wailing heard widely, a wretched confusion of old men. Then one began to gather the people; a warrior destitute, abject, sad-minded—grieving he spoke: | Egeslic æled eagsyne wearð, heardlic hereteam, hleoðor gryrelic. þurh lyftgelac leges blæstas weallas ymbwurpon, wæter mycladon. þær wæs wop wera wide gehyred, earmlic ylda gedræg. þa þær an ongann, feasceaft hæleð, folc gadorigean, hean, hygegeomor, heofende spræc: | 55 | 37 | 18 |
1558 | 1568 | andreas.txt | (1558-1568) | (1558-68) | “Now you can recognize the truth for yourselves, that perversely we have clapped in chains that stranger in the prison with agonizing bonds. Disaster has destroyed us, severe and malice-cruel. That is readily apparent— it is much better, as I account the truth, that we release him from his bone-bonds, all of us together— the sooner the better—and then beg the sainted one for help, for succor and solace for ourselves. Peace after this sorrow will be readily ours at once if we go to him now.” | "Nu ge magon sylfe soð gecnawan, þæt we mid unrihte ellþeodigne on carcerne clommum belegdon, witebendum. Us seo wyrd scyðeð, heard ond hetegrim. þæt is her swa cuð, is hit mycle selre, þæs þe ic soð talige, þæt we hine alysan of leoðobendum, ealle anmode, (ofost is selost), ond us þone halgan helpe biddan, geoce ond frofre. Us bið gearu sona sybb æfter sorge, gif we secaþ to him." | 87 | 69 | 18 |
1569 | 1582 | andreas.txt | (1569-1582) | (1569-82) | Then this disposition in the people’s soul-close became manifest to Andrew there where the strength of the arrogant was humbled, the majesty of war-faring men. The waters had enveloped it, the mountain-currents flowed over it, the flood was hungry for it—until the swelling sea had risen above a man’s breast, up to the shoulder. Then the noble saint ordered the stream-course to be stilled, the storms to sleep around the stone-hills. Keen and courage-hearted Andrew stepped out, leaving the prison, wise-minded and beloved by God. Immediately there was a path prepared for him, cleared through the river-channel. That victory-field was peaceful— it already was dry, the earth from the flood, wherever his foot stepped. | þa þær Andrea orgete wearð on fyrhðlocan folces gebæro, þær wæs modigra mægen forbeged, wigendra þrym. Wæter fæðmedon, fleow firgendstream, flod wæs on luste, oþþæt breost oferstag, brim weallende, eorlum oð exle. þa se æðeling het streamfare stillan, stormas restan ymbe stanhleoðu. Stop ut hræðe cene collenferð, carcern ageaf, gleawmod, gode leof. Him wæs gearu sona þurh streamræce stræt gerymed. Smeolt wæs se sigewang, symble wæs dryge folde fram flode, swa his fot gestop. | 114 | 74 | 40 |
1583 | 1600 | andreas.txt | (1583-1600) | (1583-600) | Then the city-dwellers became joyful at heart, spirit-gladdened, when comfort after calamity arrived. The ocean subsided through holy behest, the storm gave ear, the sea-road waited. Next the mountain yawned open, a terrifying crack into the earth, and the flood was allowed to be engulfed therein, the fallow waves. The wounded earth swallowed all of the welling sea. Andrew sent not only the water there, but also fourteen guilty folk-harmers, the worst among their nation. They were sent shaking into destruction by the waves, beneath the abyss of earth. Then were many people timid-hearted, fearful in spirit, in their tracks — they expected a slaughter of women and men, a more wretched period of humiliating circumstances, after the battle-players, stained with evil and murder-guilty were cast beneath the earth. | Wurdon burgware bliðe on mode, ferhðgefeonde. þa wæs forð cumen geoc æfter gyrne. Geofon swaðrode þurh haliges hæs, hlyst yst forgeaf, brimrad gebad. þa se beorg tohlad, eorðscræf egeslic, ond þær in forlet flod fæðmian, fealewe wægas, geotende gegrind grund eall forswealg. Nalas he þær yðe ane bisencte, ach þæs weorodes eac ða wyrrestan, faa folcsceaðan, feowertyne gewiton mid þy wæge in forwyrd sceacan under eorþan grund. þa wearð acolmod, forhtferð manig folces on laste. Wendan hie wifa ond wera cwealmes, þearlra geþinga ðrage hnagran, syððan mane faa, morðorscyldige, guðgelacan under grund hruron. | 129 | 93 | 36 |
1601 | 1606 | andreas.txt | (1601-1606) | (1601-6) | Then they spoke, all of them single-minded: “Now it is plain that the True Creator, the King of All-Created Things, governs skillfully, He that dispatched this messenger as help to our people. There is much need for us to eagerly heed him, a man chosen among men.” | Hie ða anmode ealle cwædon: "Nu is gesyne ðæt þe soð meotud, cyning eallwihta, cræftum wealdeð, se ðisne ar hider onsende þeodum to helpe. Is nu þearf mycel þæt we gumcystum georne hyran." | 47 | 33 | 14 |
1607 | 1612 | andreas.txt | (1607-1612) | (1607-12) | X. Then the sainted one began to gladden the heroes, comforting the throng of warriors wordfully: “Do not be too fearful, although ruin has chosen the kindred of sinners. They have suffered death and torments as they deserve — For you is the dazzling light of glory is revealed if you think rightly.” | þa se halga ongann hæleð blissigean, wigendra þreat wordum retan: "Ne beoð ge to forhte, þeh þe fell curen synnigra cynn. Swylt þrowode, witu be gewyrhtum. Eow is wuldres leoht torht ontyned, gif ge teala hycgað." | 53 | 36 | 17 |
1613 | 1624 | andreas.txt | (1613-1624) | (1613-24) | Next he sent his prayer before the Child of God, begging the Holy One to give help to the youthful men who had recently given up their lives in the water, through the flood’s embrace, so that those spirits— starved of good, deprived of glory, who had perished in agony— would not be ferried into the rule of the Enemy. When that message was spoken graciously to the All-wielding God, the Chief of Nations, according to the speeches of the sainted spirit, then the Lord commanded all the young men to arise uninjured from the dust, those whom the ocean had earlier killed. | Sende þa his bene fore bearn godes, bæd haligne helpe gefremman gumena geogoðe, þe on geofene ær þurh flodes fæðm feorh gesealdon, ðæt þa gastas, gode orfeorme, in wita forwyrd, wuldre bescyrede, in feonda geweald gefered ne wurdan. þa ðæt ærende ealwealdan gode æfter hleoðorcwidum haliges gastes wæs on þanc sprecen, ðeoda ræswan. Het þa onsunde ealle arisan, geonge of greote, þa ær geofon cwealde. | 103 | 65 | 38 |
1625 | 1632a | andreas.txt | (1625-1632a) | (1625-32a) | When they stood up hastily, the many youthful sons, there as a group, as I have heard, then all of them were united, body and soul, even though they had swiftly laid down their spirit through the flood’s fear. The Mermedonians accepted baptism and a peace-bond, the patronage of the Creator, that each would be pledged to Glory and be made prosperous through their punishments. | þa þær ofostlice upp astodon manige on meðle, mine gefrege, eaforan unweaxne, ða wæs eall eador leoðolic ond gastlic, þeah hie lungre ær þurh flodes fær feorh aleton. Onfengon fulwihte ond freoðuwære, wuldres wedde witum aspedde, mundbyrd meotudes. | 65 | 38 | 27 |
1632b | 1642 | andreas.txt | (1632b-1642) | (1632b-42) | Then spirited Andrew, the King’s craftsman, ordered them to build a church, to raise a temple to God on that very spot where the youth were raised through the Father’s baptism and where the flood burst forth. Then the people gathered, far and wide, into a troop of men throughout the wine-town, resolute nobles, and their wives among them. They stated that they wished to follow faithfully, promptly take on the bath of baptism, as pleases the Lord, and forsake idolatry and the old idol-havens. | þa se modiga het, cyninges cræftiga, ciricean getimbran, gerwan godes tempel, þær sio geogoð aras þurh fæder fulwiht ond se flod onsprang. þa gesamnodon secga þreate weras geond þa winburg wide ond side, eorlas anmode, ond hira idesa mid, cwædon holdlice hyran woldon, onfon fromlice fullwihtes bæð dryhtne to willan, ond diofolgild, ealde eolhstedas, anforlætan. | 85 | 55 | 30 |
1643 | 1654a | andreas.txt | (1643-1654a) | (1643-54a) | Next, baptism was raised up among the people, nobly among nobles, and God’s righteous law and decree exalted in the land, among the city-dwellers, and the church was consecrated. There the envoy of God appointed one a learned man, wise of words, a bishop for those people in that bright city, for the need of the nation, and confirmed him, a man named Platan, before that mighty multitude by his apostle-hood. Andrew boldly commanded them to attend to Platan’s teaching eagerly and achieve their salvation. | þa wæs mid þy folce fulwiht hæfen, æðele mid eorlum, ond æ godes riht aræred, ræd on lande mid þam ceasterwarum, cirice gehalgod. þær se ar godes anne gesette, wisfæstne wer, wordes gleawne, in þære beorhtan byrig bisceop þam leodum, ond gehalgode fore þam heremægene þurh apostolhad, Platan nemned, þeodum on þearfe, ond þriste bebead þæt hie his lare læston georne, feorhræd fremedon. | 85 | 63 | 22 |
1654b | 1663 | andreas.txt | (1654b-1663) | (1654b-63) | Andrew then declared his hastening intention, that he wished to leave the gold-city then, the hall-joys of men and the treasure-hoard, the bright bracelet-houses, and wished to seek a ship for himself at the sea’s shore. That was a hard fact for the host to endure— that the first of their nation wished to remain no whit longer with them. Then the God of Glory revealed himself, the Lord of Armies, to Andrew on the journey-road, and spoke a word: | Sægde his fusne hige, þæt he þa goldburg ofgifan wolde, secga seledream ond sincgestreon, beorht beagselu, ond him brimþisan æt sæs faroðe secan wolde. þæt wæs þam weorode weorc to geþoligenne, þæt hie se leodfruma leng ne wolde wihte gewunian. þa him wuldres god on þam siðfæte sylfum ætywde, ond þæt word gecwæð, weoruda dryhten: | 80 | 55 | 25 |
1664 | 1674 | andreas.txt | (1664-1674) | (1664-74) | “These folk, on account of their sins, their minds are eager, but they go about groaning. They show their sorrow to men and woman alike. Their wailing, their mourning spirit, has come to my attention. You must not abandon your flock in such new joys, but edify my name in them, securely in their soul-closures. Shelter of warriors, dwell with them in that wine-city, their treasure-laden halls, for a space of seven nights. After that with my grace you may depart.” | "folc of firenum? Is him fus hyge gað geomriende, geohðo mænað weras wif samod. Hira wop becom, murnende mod fore sneowan. Ne scealt ðu þæt eowde anforlætan on swa niowan gefean, ah him naman minne on ferðlocan fæste getimbre. Wuna in þære winbyrig, wigendra hleo, salu sinchroden, seofon nihta fyrst. Syððan ðu mid mildse minre ferest." | 81 | 56 | 25 |
1675 | 1686 | andreas.txt | (1675-1686) | (1675-86) | Then Andrew returned one more time, high-spirited, stout of power, seeking the city of Mermedonia. The words and wisdom of these Christians had increased, since they had laid eyes upon Glory’s thane, the messenger of the Worthy-King. Then he taught those people the way of belief, and strengthened them gloriously; the measureless host of glory-blessed men that hoped for glory, for the holy home of Heaven’s Realm, where the Father and the Son and Comforting Spirit in Majestic Trinity rule the Sublime Mansions in the World of All Worlds. | þa eft gewat oðre siðe modig, mægene rof, Marmedonia ceastre secan. Cristenra weox word ond wisdom, syððan wuldres þegn, æþelcyninges ar, eagum sawon. Lærde þa þa leode on geleafan weg, trymede torhtlice, tireadigra wenede to wuldre weorod unmæte, to þam halgan ham heofona rices, þær fæder ond sunu ond frofre gast in þrinnesse þrymme wealdeð in woruld worulda wuldorgestealda. | 89 | 59 | 30 |
1687 | 1694 | andreas.txt | (1687-1694) | (1687-94) | And so the holy man tore down the temples, dispelled devil-worship and destroyed their errors. That was a pain for Satan to endure—a great sorrow of mind, that he saw that multitude, through Andrew’s gracious instruction, turn heart-glad from their hell-houses to sweet joys, where no Enemy or other fierce-minded spirit will ever be found, walking by land. | Swylce se halga herigeas þreade, deofulgild todraf ond gedwolan fylde. þæt wæs Satane sar to geþolienne, mycel modes sorg, þæt he ða menigeo geseah hweorfan higebliðe fram helltrafum þurh Andreas este lare to fægeran gefean, þær næfre feondes ne bið, gastes gramhydiges, gang on lande. | 58 | 45 | 13 |
1695 | 1705 | andreas.txt | (1695-1705) | (1695-1705) | Then were the count of days fulfilled according to the decree of the Lord, as he had commanded that Andrew must dwell in the weather-beaten city. Then he began to hasten himself and get ready to sail, exulting in bliss. Andrew wished to betake himself on a ship to Achaia a second time, where he anticipated his soul-parting and battle-death— That would be no laughing matter for his slayer, instead the guilty hand, without friends, set himself on a course into the jaws of Hell, where there would be no comfort at all to enjoy. | þa wæron gefylde æfter frean dome dagas on rime, swa him dryhten bebead, þæt he þa wederburg wunian sceolde. Ongan hine þa fysan ond to flote gyrwan, blissum hremig, wolde on brimþisan Achaie oðre siðe sylfa gesecan, þær he sawulgedal, beaducwealm gebad. þæt þam banan ne wearð hleahtre behworfen, ah in helle ceafl sið asette, ond syððan no, fah, freonda leas, frofre benohte. | 95 | 63 | 32 |
1706 | 1716 | andreas.txt | (1706-1716) | (1706-16) | Then I have heard that a host of people, of mournful-hearted men, conducted their beloved teacher to the stem of the ship. In many there was an emotion welling hot about their hearts when they brought the quick-purposed warrior onto the wave-plank at the sea’s headland. They stood then upon the land’s margin lamenting after him while they could still see him, the joy of good men, upon the waves, across the seal-path. And then they honored the Possessor of Glory, crying out in chorus, and speaking thus: | ða ic lædan gefrægn leoda weorode leofne lareow to lides stefnan, mæcgas modgeomre. þær manegum wæs hat æt heortan hyge weallende. Hie ða gebrohton æt brimes næsse on wægþele wigan unslawne. Stodon him ða on ofre æfter reotan þendon hie on yðum æðelinga wunn ofer seolhpaðu geseon mihton, ond þa weorðedon wuldres agend, cleopodon on corðre, ond cwædon þus: | 88 | 59 | 29 |
1508b | 1516 | andreas.txt | (1508b-1516) | (1508b-16) | Look, you are a rich gift, a giver of gold! The King himself wrote upon you, the God of Glory, the Creator of such might made known wordfully swift secrets, and the true law signified in ten words. He gave it to Moses, as the just held it afterwards, courageous young servants, his kin, god-fearing men, Joshua and Tobias. | Hwæt, ðu golde eart, sincgife, sylla! On ðe sylf cyning wrat, wuldres god, wordum cyðde recene geryno, ond ryhte æ getacnode on tyn wordum, meotud mihtum swið. Moyse sealde, swa hit soðfæste syðþan heoldon, modige magoþegnas, magas sine, godfyrhte guman, Iosua ond Tobias. | 59 | 43 | 16 |
1502 | 1508a | andreas.txt | (1502-1508a) | (1502-08a) | “Now let currents burst forth from your base, a river full of water—now the Almighty, Heaven’s King, commands you to send forth speedily onto this pride-fed people, wide-streaming waters as a slaughtering of men, a flowing sea! | on middangeard mancynn secan. Læt nu of þinum staþole streamas weallan, ea inflede, nu ðe ælmihtig hateð, heofona cyning, þæt ðu hrædlice on þis fræte folc forð onsende wæter widrynig to wera cwealme, geofon geotende. | 37 | 35 | 2 |
1498 | 1501 | andreas.txt | (1498-1501) | (1498-1502) | “Now, marble-stone, hear the decrees of the Creator! Formerly all creation worshipped his face fearfully, when the heavens and earth see the father, with the greatest of hosts, in middle-earth seeking mankind. | "Geher ðu, marmanstan, meotudes rædum, fore þæs onsyne ealle gesceafte forhte geweorðað, þonne hie fæder geseoð heofonas ond eorðan herigea mæste | 32 | 21 | 11 |
1489b | 1497 | andreas.txt | (1489b-1497) | (1489b-97) | It is said of old how Andrew suffered a great number of fierce attacks and torments in that heathen city. He saw by the wall, wondrously rooted beneath the plains of time, columns—and not small ones— pillars standing battered by the storm, the old work of giants. He, mighty and mind-bold, wise and wonderfully sagacious, made conversation with one of their number and heaved up a word: | þæt is fyrnsægen, hu he weorna feala wita geðolode, heardra hilda, in þære hæðenan byrig. He be wealle geseah wundrum fæste under sælwage sweras unlytle, stapulas standan, storme bedrifene, eald enta geweorc. He wið anne þæra, mihtig ond modrof, mæðel gehede, wis, wundrum gleaw, word stunde ahof: | 67 | 47 | 20 |
1269b | 1278a | andreas.txt | (1269b-1278a) | (1269b-78a) | Then came a swarm of soldiers to that dark dungeon, no small multitude passing in the noise of a slaughter-greedy host. They ordered that the nobleman, that pledge-fast hero, be led outside quickly into the possession of the wroth. Then again, just as before, he was beaten with pain-blows the length of a day. Blood welled out in waves from his liver, throughout his bone-coffer, engulfing him in hot gore. His corse, wearied by wounds, cared not much for their performance. | ða com hæleða þreat to ðære dimman ding, duguð unlytel, wadan wælgifre weorodes brehtme. Heton ut hræðe æðeling lædan in wraðra geweald, wærfæstne hæleð. ða wæs eft swa ær ondlangne dæg swungen sarslegum. Swat yðum weoll þurh bancofan, blodlifrum swealg, hatan heolfre. Hra weorces ne sann, wundum werig. | 81 | 48 | 33 |
1278b | 1295 | andreas.txt | (1278b-1295) | (1278b-95) | Then came a ring of cries from Andrew’s breast— a ghastly thing fared forth, a stream welling out in a swell, and he spoke by word: “Now see here, Lord God, my condition, Good-Giver of Armies! You perceive and understand the wretched journeys of every single man. I trust in you, my Life-Start, that you, man’s mild-hearted Savior, Almighty Eternal, will never forsake me because of your mighty virtues, so that I, while my soul lives upon this earth, perform so that I fail but little your loving lessons. You are my shielder against scathing weaponry, Eternal Origin of Blessings, for all of your creatures. Don’t let the mankind’s bane, fault’s first-born shame through fiend-craft nor cover in reproach those that bear your praise.” | þa cwom wopes hring þurh þæs beornes breost, blat ut faran, weoll waðuman stream, ond he worde cwæð: "Geseoh nu, dryhten god, drohtað minne, weoruda willgeofa! þu wæst ond const anra gehwylces earfeðsiðas. Ic gelyfe to ðe, min liffruma, þæt ðu mildheort me for þinum mægenspedum, nerigend fira, næfre wille, ece ælmihtig, anforlætan, swa ic þæt gefremme, þenden feorh leofað, min on moldan, þæt ic, meotud, þinum larum leofwendum lyt geswice. þu eart gescyldend wið sceaðan wæpnum, ece eadfruma, eallum þinum; ne læt nu bysmrian banan manncynnes, facnes frumbearn, þurh feondes cræft leahtrum belecgan þa þin lof berað." | 124 | 98 | 26 |
1296 | 1300 | andreas.txt | (1296-1300) | (1296-1301) | Then a loathsome spirit appeared there, an angry pledge-breaker. That warrior preached before that war-band, a devil of hell condemned to suffering, and said in word: “Strike this sinful man across the mouth, this enemy of the people! He talks too much!” | ða ðær ætywde se atola gast, wrað wærloga. Wigend lærde for þam heremægene helle dioful awerged in witum, ond þæt word gecwæð: "Sleað synnigne ofer seolfes muð, | 42 | 27 | 15 |
1301 | 1310 | andreas.txt | (1301-1310) | (1301-10) | Then was the flame-point soon stirred with renewed voice. Malice was raised up until the sun departed, gliding to its setting under the dark earth. Night brown-black covered the steep mountains, overshadowing them and holy Andrew was led back into his home, bold and glory-eager in that dark hall. He had to dwell within closed constraint the length of the night, pledge-fast, in the foul fold. | folces gewinnan! Nu to feala reordaþ." þa wæs orlege eft onhrered, niwan stefne. Nið upp aras oþðæt sunne gewat to sete glidan under niflan næs. Niht helmade, brunwann oferbræd beorgas steape, ond se halga wæs to hofe læded, deor ond domgeorn, in þæt dimme ræced; sceal þonne in neadcofan nihtlangne fyrst wærfæst wunian wic unsyfre. | 66 | 55 | 11 |
1311 | 1321 | andreas.txt | (1311-1321) | (1311-1321) | Then came a dire wretch, one of seven mindful of evil, walking to the hall, an evil lord clothed in the murk of murder, a devil death-cruel deprived of blessings. He began then to speak words of reproach to the sainted man: “What were you thinking Andrew by coming to this wrathful wold? What is your glory? That you would be exalted in over-mind when you humbled the idols of our gods? Have you now assigned both land and people, all for yourself alone, just as your teacher had? | þa com seofona sum to sele geongan, atol æglæca yfela gemyndig, morðres manfrea myrce gescyrded, deoful deaðreow duguðum bereafod, ongan þa þam halgan hospword sprecan: "Hwæt hogodest ðu, Andreas, hidercyme þinne on wraðra geweald? Hwæt is wuldor þin, þe ðu oferhigdum upp arærdest, þa ðu goda ussa gild gehnægdest? Hafast nu þe anum eall getihhad land ond leode, swa dyde lareow þin. | 89 | 62 | 27 |
1322 | 1333 | andreas.txt | (1322-1333) | (1322-33) | He heaved up his kingly glory, for that was the name of Christ, across middle-earth, while he could do so. Herod deprived him of life, the King of Judea defeated him in combat, bereaved him of lands and befixed him to a cross, where he sent out his ghost upon the gallows. So I now order my children, these powerful servants, my disciples of war, to humiliate you. Let the point of spears, arrows stained with venom, dive into you, into your doomed spirit! Go forth right away, my war-bold hardies, and vanquish his vainglory!” | Cyneþrym ahof, þam wæs Crist nama, ofer middangeard, þynden hit meahte swa. þone Herodes ealdre besnyðede, forcom æt campe cyning Iudea, rices berædde, ond hine rode befealg, þæt he on gealgan his gast onsende. Swa ic nu bebeode bearnum minum, þegnum þryðfullum, ðæt hie ðe hnægen, gingran æt guðe. Lætað gares ord, earh ættre gemæl, in gedufan in fæges ferð. Gað fromlice, ðæt ge guðfrecan gylp forbegan." | 95 | 67 | 28 |
1334 | 1344 | andreas.txt | (1334-1344) | (1334-44) | They were cruel, rushing upon him at once with voracious clutches. God defended him, the Steadfast Steersman, through his strong might. Afterwards they recognized the Cross of Christ upon Andrew’s forehead, that renowned token, and they were taken with trembling inside— frightened, afraid and put to flight then. At once the elder-foe, the captive of hell, began as before to sing a sorrow-song: “How are you become so valiant, my soldiers, my shield-brothers, that you prospered so little?” | Hie wæron reowe, ræsdon on sona gifrum grapum. Hine god forstod, staðulfæst steorend, þurh his strangan miht. Syððan hie oncneowon Cristes rode on his mægwlite, mære tacen, wurdon hie ða acle on þam onfenge, forhte, afærde, ond on fleam numen. Ongan eft swa ær ealdgeniðla, helle hæftling, hearmleoð galan: "Hwæt wearð eow swa rofum, rincas mine, lindgesteallan, þæt eow swa lyt gespeow?" | 78 | 62 | 16 |
1345 | 1359 | andreas.txt | (1345-1359) | (1345-59) | Then the wretch gave the devil answer, the first-scather, and replied to their father: “Suddenly we are not able to inflict injury upon him, nor death through devices. Go to him yourself! There you will directly find battle, fearsome fighting if you dare to strive further upon that recluse’s life. We can easily advise you better, dearest lord, in that sword-play— before you make war and the tumult of battle boldly, consider how you might profit in the exchange of blows. Let us proceed at once, that we might shame him in his fast bonds, taunt him about his wrack-journey. Have your words ready, wholly considered, against that wretched thing!” | Him þa earmsceapen agef ondsware, fah fyrnsceaþa, ond his fæder oncwæð: "Ne magan we him lungre lað ætfæstan, swilt þurh searwe. Ga þe sylfa to! þær þu gegninga guðe findest, frecne feohtan, gif ðu furður dearst to þam anhagan aldre geneðan. We ðe magon eaðe, eorla leofost, æt þam secgplegan selre gelæran; ær ðu gegninga guðe fremme, wiges woman, weald, hu ðe sæle æt þam gegnslege. Utan gangan eft, þæt we bysmrigen bendum fæstne, oðwitan him his wræcsið. Habbað word gearu wið þam æglæcan eall getrahtod!" | 110 | 86 | 24 |
1360 | 1374 | andreas.txt | (1360-1374) | (1360-74) | Then with a loud voice upon the mountain-road, the one afflicted with torments spoke these words: “You, Andrew, have long applied yourself to wretched arts! How many peoples have you seduced and betrayed? You will assume this work for not much longer. There are tortures ordained for you, as grim as you deserve! Weary-hearted and abject, devoid of comforts, you must endure agony by sore death-pains! My men are ready for war-play— they would do anything to take your life with their valor-deeds before too long. Who among the kindred of men is so mighty across middle-earth that they could release you from these bone-bonds against my will?” | þa hleoðrade hludan stefne, witum bewæled, ond þæt word gecwæð: "þu þe, Andreas, aclæccræftum lange feredes! Hwæt, ðu leoda feala forleolce ond forlærdest! Nu leng ne miht gewealdan þy weorce. þe synd witu þæs grim weotud be gewyrhtum. þu scealt werigmod, hean, hroðra leas, hearm þrowigan, sare swyltcwale. Secgas mine to þam guðplegan gearwe sindon, þa þe æninga ellenweorcum unfyrn faca feorh ætþringan. Hwylc is þæs mihtig ofer middangeard, þæt he þe alyse of leoðubendum, manna cynnes, ofer mine est?" | 108 | 80 | 28 |
727 | 734 | andreas.txt | (727-734) | (727-34) | “Then the Lord of Armies further spoke a word, the heaven-holy soul, before that handiwork: ‘Now I command a signal to be revealed, a miracle to occur in this assembly of men, that this likeness seek the earth, lovely from the wall, and speak a word, tell in truthful talk, through which the nobles should believe in my lineage, what my homeland is.’ | þa gen worde cwæð weoruda dryhten, heofonhalig gast, fore þam heremægene: 'Nu ic bebeode beacen ætywan, wundor geweorðan on wera gemange, ðæt þeos onlicnes eorðan sece, wlitig of wage, ond word sprece, secge soðcwidum, (þy sceolon gelyfan eorlas on cyððe), hwæt min æðelo sien.' | 63 | 44 | 19 |
1375 | 1385 | andreas.txt | (1375-1385) | (1375-85) | Andrew then gave him reply: “Well, Almighty God, Savior of Men can easily save me, who formerly fastened you into discomfort with burning bonds! There you have been ever since, bound up in torment, waiting in wrack, cut off from glory after you disdained the words of the Heaven-King! There was the start of evil—and there will be no end to your exile! You must increase your misery for your long life. Eternally and always, your condition will be the stronger one day to the next!” | Him þa Andreas agef ondsware: "Hwæt, me eaðe ælmihtig god, niða neregend, se ðe in niedum iu gefæstnode fyrnum clommum! þær ðu syððan a, susle gebunden, in wræc wunne, wuldres blunne, syððan ðu forhogedes heofoncyninges word. þær wæs yfles or, ende næfre þines wræces weorðeð. ðu scealt widan feorh ecan þine yrmðu. þe bið a symble of dæge on dæg drohtaþ strengra." | 86 | 62 | 24 |
1388 | 1397 | andreas.txt | (1388-1397) | (1388-97) | VIII. Then at the last of the night a host of heathens came, an army of the people, seeking the holy one at day-break. They ordered him to be led out, a toil-enduring thane, for a third trip. They wished for the mind of the courage-bold man to be melted by need. It could not be done! Then was their malice stirred up anew, hard and hate-cruel. The holy man was beaten sorely, bound by chains, driven through with scar-wounds, while the day gave light. | Com þa on uhtan mid ærdæge hæðenra hloð haliges neosan leoda weorude. Heton lædan ut þrohtheardne þegn þriddan siðe, woldon aninga ellenrofes mod gemyltan. Hit ne mihte swa! ða wæs niowinga nið onhrered, heard ond hetegrim. Wæs se halga wer sare geswungen, searwum gebunden, dolgbennum þurhdrifen, ðendon dæg lihte. | 85 | 49 | 36 |
1398 | 1413 | andreas.txt | (1398-1413) | (1398-1413) | Then he sad-minded began to cry out unto God, in a holy voice harsh from his bondage and weary-hearted wept, speaking these words: “I have never endured a more difficult condition beneath the heaven-vault in the service of my master, wherever I must adjudge law of the Lord. My limbs are dislocated, my body sorely broken, my bone-house is blood-stained, wounds welling forth, wrenched sinews blood-sweaty. Having become so dejected among the Jews in only one day, O Ward of Victories, Savior Lord—what did you, God that Lives, Master of Elder-Works, call out from the cross to your Father, the King of Glory, speaking thus: ‘I wish you ask you, Father of Angels, Life’s Light-Origin—why have you forsaken me?’ | Ongan þa geomormod to gode cleopian, heard of hæfte, halgan stefne weop werigferð, ond þæt word gecwæð: "Næfre ic geferde mid frean willan under heofonhwealfe heardran drohtnoð, þær ic dryhtnes æ deman sceolde. Sint me leoðu tolocen, lic sare gebrocen, banhus blodfag, benne weallað, seonodolg swatige. Hwæt, ðu sigora weard, dryhten hælend, on dæges tide mid Iudeum geomor wurde ða ðu of gealgan, god lifigende, fyrnweorca frea, to fæder cleopodest, cininga wuldor, ond cwæde ðus: 'Ic ðe, fæder engla, frignan wille, lifes leohtfruma, hwæt forlætest ðu me?' | 119 | 87 | 32 |
1414 | 1428 | andreas.txt | (1414-1428) | (1414-28) | “And now I have had to suffer for three days these killingly cruel tortures. I ask you, God of Armies, when will I be allowed to deliver my spirit into your own hand, Feast-Giver of Souls. You who commanded us through your holy word, when you began to strengthen the twelve of us, saying that the battle of war-eager men would not happen to us, nor any part of our body be readily dismembered, neither sinew nor bone would lie in our trail, nor even a lock of our heads become lost, if we should observe your lessons. Now my sinews are paralyzed, my blood-sweat has been shed in drops, my hair lies scattered across the land, curls upon the earth. Life’s severance is much more desirable to me than this living sorrow.” | Ond ic nu þry dagas þolian sceolde wælgrim witu. Bidde ic, weoroda god, þæt ic gast minne agifan mote, sawla symbelgifa, on þines sylfes hand. ðu ðæt gehete þurh þin halig word, þa ðu us twelfe trymman ongunne, þæt us heterofra hild ne gesceode, ne lices dæl lungre oððeoded, ne synu ne ban on swaðe lagon, ne loc of heafde to forlore wurde, gif we þine lare læstan woldon. Nu sint sionwe toslopen, is min swat adropen, licgað æfter lande loccas todrifene, fex on foldan. Is me feorhgedal leofre mycle þonne þeos lifcearo." | 133 | 93 | 40 |
1429 | 1440 | andreas.txt | (1429-1440) | (1429-40) | Then a voice answered him, the stiff-minded man, and the words of the Glory-King resounded: “Weep not for your exile, dearest friend—it’s not that terrible. I will keep my peace for you; the power of my patronage is set about you. Command and success is given to me over all things. Many at the moot, those that honored him, on that great day will declare that truth, that that beautiful creation, the heaven and the earth, shall fall to ruin together before any of these words should be frustrated, which I begin to speak by my own mouth. | Him þa stefn oncwæð, stiðhycgendum, wuldorcyninges word hloðrode: "Ne wep þone wræcsið, wine leofesta, nis þe to frecne. Ic þe friðe healde, minre mundbyrde mægene besette. Me is miht ofer eall, sigorsped geseald. Soð þæt gecyðeð mænig æt meðle on þam myclan dæge, þæt ðæt geweorðeð, þæt ðeos wlitige gesceaft, heofon ond eorðe, hreosaþ togadore, ær awæged sie worda ænig þe ic þurh minne muð meðlan onginne. | 98 | 67 | 31 |
1441 | 1445 | andreas.txt | (1441-1445) | (1441-45) | “Look now at your own track, such as your blood has been shed by the bloody traces of your bone-breaking and body-bruising. No more injury will they be allowed to do to you through the stroke of spears, those that have performed the most cruel injuries.” | Geseoh nu seolfes swæðe, swa þin swat aget þurh bangebrec blodige stige, lices lælan. No þe laðes ma þurh daroða gedrep gedon motan, þa þe heardra mæst hearma gefremedan." | 46 | 29 | 17 |
1446 | 1454 | andreas.txt | (1446-1454) | (1446-54) | Then the cherished champion looked back upon his track, according to the pronouncements of the Glory-King. He saw there blossoming groves standing adorned with fruit, where his blood had been shed before. Then the shelter of warriors spoke a word: “Thanks and praise be to you, Sovereign of Nations, and glory in heaven for your long life, for you have not forsaken me in my pain, my Victory-Lord, estranged and alone.” | þa on last beseah leoflic cempa æfter wordcwidum wuldorcyninges. Geseh he geblowene bearwas standan blædum gehrodene, swa he ær his blod aget. ða worde cwæð wigendra hleo: "Sie ðe ðanc ond lof, þeoda waldend, to widan feore wuldor on heofonum, ðæs ðu me on sare, sigedryhten min, ellþeodigne, an ne forlæte." | 71 | 51 | 20 |
1455 | 1468 | andreas.txt | (1455-1468) | (1455-68) | And so did the deed-maker praise the Lord with a sainted voice until the clear sun, gloriously bright, went dusking toward the drink. Then when for the fourth time his terrible persecutors led the worthy folk-leader into his prison-cell, they had determined to dement the man-advisor’s mind, his thought for artifices on that dark night. Then came the Lord God into that grated-hall, the Glory of Heroes, and greeted his own friend wordfully and spoke comfortingly, the Father of Man-kind, Life’s Teacher. He ordered Andrew’s body to regain its wholeness. “You shall not suffer in humiliation the pain of this armored lot for much longer.” | Swa se dædfruma dryhten herede halgan stefne oððæt hador sægl wuldortorht gewat under waðu scriðan. þa þa folctogan feorðan siðe, egle ondsacan, æðeling læddon to þam carcerne, woldon cræfta gehygd, magorædendes mod oncyrran on þære deorcan niht. þa com dryhten god in þæt hlinræced, hæleða wuldor, ond þa wine synne wordum grette ond frofre gecwæð, fæder manncynnes, lifes lareow, heht his lichoman hales brucan: "Ne scealt ðu in henðum a leng searohæbbendra sar þrowian." | 105 | 74 | 31 |
1469 | 1477 | andreas.txt | (1469-1477) | (1469-77) | Then arose Andrew from the fetters of harsh torments, valiant in power, and said thanks to his Creator. He was whole. His beauty was not besmirched, nor a hem from his garment rent, nor lock from his head, nor was there any bone broken; there were no bloody wounds belonging to his body, nor any injury of any kind, wetted by dreary scar-blows— but all was soon as it had been before, through that noble might, raising his praises and strong of his body. | Aras þa mægene rof, sægde meotude þanc, hal of hæfte heardra wita. Næs him gewemmed wlite, ne wloh of hrægle lungre alysed, ne loc of heafde, ne ban gebrocen, ne blodig wund lice gelenge, ne laðes dæl, þurh dolgslege dreore bestemed, ac wæs eft swa ær þurh þa æðelan miht lof lædende, ond on his lice trum. | 84 | 57 | 27 |
1478 | 1489a | andreas.txt | (1478-1489a) | (1478-89a) | IX. Listen, I have proclaimed for a while now the teaching of the saint, the praise of what he achieved, in the words of poetic songs; true events way beyond my capacity. There is much to say, and a lot of reading, of what Andrew performed in his life, according to my exemplar — That story a man of the world must find it in his heart, one more learned than I account myself, one who might know all those hardships and savage battles from the beginning that Andrew endured with courage. Nevertheless, we must relate a few more verse-words with little stichs. | Hwæt, ic hwile nu haliges lare, leoðgiddinga, lof þæs þe worhte, wordum wemde, wyrd undyrne ofer min gemet. Mycel is to secganne, langsum leornung, þæt he in life adreag, eall æfter orde. þæt scell æglæwra mann on moldan þonne ic me tælige findan on ferðe, þæt fram fruman cunne eall þa earfeðo þe he mid elne adreah, grimra guða. Hwæðre git sceolon lytlum sticcum leoðworda dæl furður reccan. | 103 | 68 | 35 |
1386 | 1387 | andreas.txt | (1386-1387) | (1386-7) | At that, the devil fled, who had made fierce feud against God in years past. | ða wearð on fleame se ðe ða fæhðo iu wið god geara grimme gefremede. | 15 | 14 | 1 |
706 | 726 | andreas.txt | (706-726) | (706-26) | “On a later occasion, Jesus set out with a great band so that he might stand in the temple, the Prince of Glory. A confused clatter was raised throughout the high hall— the sinning ones would not swallow the teaching of the holy, though he made known so many true tokens where they could be seen. The Lord of Victory spotted a wonder graven quite elegantly in the likeness of his own angels on the temple wall, splendidly adorning either side. He spoke by word: ‘This is an image of the most illustrious of angel-kind that there is, among the citizens in that city. Cherubim and Seraphim they are named in heavenly joys. They stand stout-hearted before the countenance of the Eternal Lord, praising with voices and holy songs the glory of the Heaven-King, the Creator’s protection. Here is hewn the shape of holy ones—through hand-power the servants of glory are written on the wall.’ | Syþþan eft gewat oðre siðe getrume mycle, þæt he in temple gestod, wuldres aldor. Wordhleoðor astag geond heahræced. Haliges lare synnige ne swulgon, þeah he soðra swa feala tacna gecyðde, þær hie to segon. Swylce he wrætlice wundor agræfene, anlicnesse engla sinra geseh, sigora frea, on seles wage, on twa healfe torhte gefrætwed, wlitige geworhte. He worde cwæð: 'ðis is anlicnes engelcynna þæs bremestan þe mid þam burgwarum in þære ceastre is. Cheruphim et Seraphim þa on swegeldreamum syndon nemned. Fore onsyne ecan dryhtnes standað stiðferðe, stefnum herigað, halgum hleoðrum, heofoncyninges þrym, meotudes mundbyrd. Her amearcod is haligra hiw, þurh handmægen awriten on wealle wuldres þegnas.' | 155 | 106 | 49 |
692 | 705 | andreas.txt | (692-705) | (692-705) | “So exclaimed the counselors of warriors, a band eager for judgment. They thought to conceal the creator’s might. Sin, that endless evil, returned soon where it had arisen before. Then the prince departed from that heap of thanes from the counsel-place comforted by his powers, the lord of multitudes, seeking an unknown land. Through many wonders in the desert Jesus had made known that he was the king by right over middle-earth, comforted with power, Sovereign and Artificer of the Glorious Majesty, One Eternal God of all Creation. Again, he made known innumerable other miraculous works in the sight of men. | Swa hleoðrodon hæleða ræswan, dugoð domgeorne, dyrnan þohton meotudes mihte. Man eft gehwearf, yfel endeleas, þær hit ær aras. þa se þeoden gewat þegna heape fram þam meðelstede mihtum geswiðed, dugeða dryhten, secan digol land. He þurh wundra feala on þam westenne cræfta gecyðde þæt he wæs cyning on riht ofer middangeard, mægene geswiðed, waldend ond wyrhta wuldorþrymmes, an ece god eallra gesceafta. Swylce he oðerra unrim cyðde wundorworca on wera gesyhðe. | 101 | 72 | 29 |
676 | 691 | andreas.txt | (676-691) | (676-91) | “‘Harumph! You are wretched over all men! You wade along wide wanderings, enduring a multitude of misfortunes. Now you heed the teachings of a stranger, a man outside the people’s law, having no share in its blessing. You testify for this prince, swear that you dwell every day with the Creator’s son. But it is well-known to the people whence this noble’s origins are derived. Jesus was nourished in these borders, begotten child-young amid his relations. Thus his father and mother are native-dwellers named Mary and Joseph, as we have learned by our thought. There are two others, men born in noble brotherhood, the sons of Joseph, Simon and Jacob.’ | 'Hwæt, ge syndon earme ofer ealle menn! Wadað widlastas, weorn geferað earfoðsiða, ellþeodiges nu butan leodrihte larum hyrað, eadiges orhlytte æðeling cyðað, secgað soðlice þæt mid suna meotudes drohtigen dæghwæmlice. þæt is duguðum cuð hwanon þam ordfruman æðelu onwocon. He wæs afeded on þysse folcsceare, cildgeong acenned mid his cneomagum. þus syndon haten hamsittende, fæder ond modur, þæs we gefrægen habbað þurh modgemynd, Maria ond Ioseph. Syndon him on æðelum oðere twegen beornas geborene, broðorsybbum, suna Iosephes, Simon ond Iacob.' | 110 | 80 | 30 |
285 | 289 | andreas.txt | (285-289) | (285-9) | Then Andrew gave rejoinder: “Desire whets us to that nation’s borders, a great hope of mind, to that notorious city, dearest lord, if you wish to make known your mercy for us upon the ocean-flood.” | Him þa Andreas agef ondsware: "Usic lust hweteð on þa leodmearce, mycel modes hiht, to þære mæran byrig, þeoden leofesta, gif ðu us þine wilt on merefaroðe miltse gecyðan." | 35 | 29 | 6 |
277 | 284 | andreas.txt | (277-284) | (277-84) | Soon from the wave-ship the Helm of Princes, Shaper of Angels, answered him: “Wide-faring men cannot dwell there, nor can strangers enjoy the land, but in that city they suffer the killing, the foreigners that bear their life to that place— and now you ask to venture across the wide sea so that you might spill your life out in this feud?” | Eft him ondswarode æðelinga helm of yðlide, engla scippend: "Ne magon þær gewunian widferende, ne þær elþeodige eardes brucað, ah in þære ceastre cwealm þrowiað, þa ðe feorran þyder feorh gelædaþ, ond þu wilnast nu ofer widne mere þæt ðu on þa fægðe þine feore spilde." | 62 | 46 | 16 |
270 | 276 | andreas.txt | (270-276) | (270-6) | Humble Andrew then replied: “Although I can give you few rings or treasure-worthy things, I wish to ask you to bring us aboard that steep vessel, that beaked ship, and over the whale’s home to that same nation. There will be reward for you with God if you are gracious to us on this road.” | Him þa Andreas eaðmod oncwæð: "Wolde ic þe biddan, þeh ic þe beaga lyt, sincweorðunga, syllan meahte, þæt ðu us gebrohte brante ceole, hea hornscipe, ofer hwæles eðel on þære mægðe. Bið ðe meorð wið god, þæt ðu us on lade liðe weorðe." | 55 | 43 | 12 |
260 | 269 | andreas.txt | (260-269) | (260-9) | Almighty God then answered him in such a way that Andrew, awaiting his words there upon the shore, did not realize with whom he spoke among those conversing: “From the nation of Mermedonia we have traveled far. A high-prowed ship has borne us on the whale-road, the swift ocean-horse, encircled with water, until we reached this land of men, driven by the sea as the wind compelled us to do.” | Him ða ondswarode ælmihti god, swa þæt ne wiste, se ðe þæs wordes bad, hwæt se manna wæs meðelhegendra, þe he þær on waroðe wiðþingode: "We of Marmedonia mægðe syndon feorran geferede. Us mid flode bær on hranrade heahstefn naca, snellic sæmearh, snude bewunden, oðþæt we þissa leoda land gesohton, wære bewrecene, swa us wind fordraf." | 70 | 56 | 14 |
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The first Old English to Modern English dataset for language translation!
The dataset is structured as source_language, target_language pairs. For more information on how the dataset was extracted, structured, annotated, parsed, etc, you can check this introductory notebook where the data collection methodology is explained and an LLM Gemma-2 model is finetuned on it.
Next you can find the original sources of these texts:
- The raw translations come from the excellent work of Dr. Ophelia Hostetter and can be found in the Old English Poetry Project.
- The raw old english texts can be found in The Complete Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Poetry.
These texts translations encompass almost 79% of all extant Old English poetry (that’s 23,662 lines out of about 30,000 extant lines).
license: apache-2.0 task_categories: - translation - text-generation language: - en size_categories: - 1K<n<10K
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