Part 8 (2/2)
[Text used: Kluge, _Angelsachsisches Lesebuch_.
The piece of wood on which the message is written speaks throughout the poem. It is impossible to tell whether the sender of the message is husband or lover of the woman addressed.
Some scholars consider the riddle on ”The Reed,” number LX, as the true beginning of this poem. It precedes the ”Message” in the ma.n.u.script.
Hicketeir (_Anglia_, xi, 363) thinks that it does not belong with that riddle, but that it is itself a riddle. He cites the Runes, in lines 51-2, especially as evidence. Trautmann (_Anglia_ xvi, 207) thinks that it is part of a longer poem, in which the puzzling relation would be straightened out.]
First I shall freely confide to you The tale of this tablet of wood. As a tree I grew up On the coast of Mecealde, close by the sea.
Frequently thence to foreign lands 5 I set forth in travel, the salt streams tried In the keel of the s.h.i.+p at a king's behest.
Full oft on the bosom of a boat I have dwelt, Fared over the foam a friend to see, Wherever my master on a mission sent me, 10 Over the crest of the wave. I am come here to you On the deck of a s.h.i.+p and in duty inquire How now in your heart you hold and cherish The love of my lord. Loyalty unwavering I affirm without fear you will find in his heart.
15 The maker of this message commands me to bid thee, O bracelet-adorned one, to bring to thy mind And impress on thy heart the promises of love That ye two in the old days often exchanged While at home in your halls unharmed you might still 20 Live in the land, love one another, Dwell in the same country. He was driven by feud From the powerful people. He prays now, most earnestly That you learn with delight you may launch on the sea-stream When from the height of the hill you hear from afar 25 The melancholy call of the cuckoo in the wood.
Let not thereafter any living man Prevent thy voyage or prevail against it.
Seek now the sh.o.r.e, the sea-mew's home!
Embark on the boat that bears thee south, 30 Where far over the foam thou shalt find thy lord,-- Where lingers thy lover in longing and hope.
In the width of the world not a wish or desire More strongly stirs him (he instructs me to say) Than that gracious G.o.d should grant you to live 35 Ever after at ease together, To distribute treasures to retainers and friends, To give rings of gold. Of gilded cups And of proud possessions a plenty he has, And holds his home far hence with strangers, 40 His fertile fields, where follow him many High-spirited heroes-- though here my liege-lord, Forced by the fates, took flight on a s.h.i.+p And on the watery waves went forth alone To fare on the flood-way: fain would he escape, 45 Stir up the sea-streams. By strife thy lord hath Won the fight against woe. No wish will he have For horses or jewels or the joys of mead-drinking, Nor any earl's treasures on earth to be found, O gentle lord's daughter, if he have joy in thee, 50 As by solemn vows ye have sworn to each other.
I set as a sign S and R together, E, A, W, and D, as an oath to a.s.sure you That he stays for thee still and stands by his troth; And as long as he lives it shall last unbroken,-- 55 Which often of old with oaths ye have plighted.
1-6. The text here is so corrupt that an almost complete reconstruction has been necessary.
51. In the ma.n.u.script these letters appear as runes. For ill.u.s.trations of the appearance of runes, see the introductory note to ”Cynewulf and his School,” p. 95, below. What these runes stood for, or whether they were supposed to possess unusual or magic power is purely a matter of conjecture.
THE RUIN
[Text used: Kluge, _Angelsachsisches Lesebuch_.
This description of a ruin with hot baths is generally a.s.sumed to be of the Roman city of Bath. The fact that the poet uses unusual words and unconventional lines seems to indicate that he wrote with his eye on the object.]
Wondrous is its wall-stone laid waste by the fates.
The burg-steads are burst, broken the work of the giants.
The roofs are in ruins, rotted away the towers, The fortress-gate fallen, with frost on the mortar.
5 Broken are the battlements, low bowed and decaying, Eaten under by age. The earth holds fast The master masons: low mouldering they lie In the hard grip of the grave, till shall grow up and perish A hundred generations. h.o.a.ry and stained with red, 10 Through conquest of kingdoms, unconquered this wall endured, Stood up under storm. The high structure has fallen.
Still remains its wall-stone, struck down by weapons.
They have fallen . . . . . . . . .
Ground down by grim fate . . . . . . . .
15 Splendidly it shone . . . . . . . .
The cunning creation . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . from its clay covering is bent; Mind . . . . . . the swift one drawn.
The bold ones in counsel bound in rings 19 The wall-foundations with wires, wondrously together.
20 Bright were the burgher's homes, the bath halls many, Gay with high gables --a great martial sound, Many mead-halls, where men took their pleasure, Till an end came to all, through inexorable fate.
The people all have perished; pestilence came on them: 25 Death stole them all, the staunch band of warriors.
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