Part 3 (2/2)

Again the Adversary by his words, With fiendish craft urged on the folk to fight:-- ”Now do you hear the foeman of your tribe, Him who has wrought most harm unto this host!

Andrew it is, who thus disputes with me In cunning words before the throng of men.” 1200 Then to the townsmen was the signal given;

Up leaped they valiant with the shout of hosts, And to the city-gates the warriors thronged Bold 'neath their banners; with their spears and s.h.i.+elds, In mighty troops they pressed unto the fight.

Then spake the Lord of hosts, Almighty G.o.d, And said these words unto His valiant thane:-- ”O Andrew, thou shalt do a deed of might; Shrink not before this host, but thy brave heart Strengthen against the strong! The hour is nigh 1210 When these blood-thirsty men shall weigh thee down With torments and cold chains. Reveal thyself, Make firm thy soul, and strengthen thy brave heart, That they may recognize My power in thee!

They cannot and they may not, crime-stained men, Deal death unto thy body 'gainst My will, Though thou shalt suffer many evil blows From murderers. Lo, I abide with thee!”

After these words there came a countless throng, False leaders with their troops of s.h.i.+eld-clad men, 1220 Angry at heart. Straight rushed they out and bound Saint Andrew's hands, soon as the joy of lords Revealed himself, and they could see him there Boldly triumphant. Many a warrior l.u.s.ted for battle on that field of death, Among the host of men. Little they cared What recompense hereafter they should find.

They gave command to lead their hated foe Over the country, and from time to time 1230 To drag him fiercely as they could contrive.

Savage, they haled him, cruel-hearted foes, Through mountain-caves, about the stony cliffs, Far as their stone-paved streets and highways stretched-- The ancient work of giants--through the town.

A tumult and a mighty outcry rose Within the city from the heathen host.

With grievous wounds was Andrew's body pained, Broken and wet with blood, which welled in streams 1240 All hot with gore; yet had he in his breast Courage undoubting; and his n.o.ble mind Was free from sin, though he was doomed to bear Such bitter suffering from his heavy wounds.

Thus all day long till radiant evening came Was Andrew scourged; and yet a second day Pain pierced his breast, until the gleaming sun With heavenly radiance to his setting went.

Then to the prison did those people lead Their hated foe; yet to the heart of Christ 1250 Was he full dear; within his holy breast His soul shone bright--a mind invincible.

So all night long the hero brave of heart, That holy saint, dwelt 'neath the gloomy shades, Beset with cunning snares. Snow bound the earth In wintry storms; the air grew bitter cold With heavy showers of hail; the rime and frost, Those warriors h.o.a.ry, locked the homes of men, The people's dwellings; frozen were the lands With icicles; the water's might shrank up 1260 Within the rivers, and the ice bridged o'er The gleaming water-roads. The n.o.ble saint Abode blithe-hearted, planning valiant deeds, Bold and courageous in his misery, Throughout the wintry night; nor did he e'er, Dismayed by terror, cease to praise the Lord, And ever wors.h.i.+p Him, as at the first, With righteous heart, until the radiant gem Of glory rose.

Then came a mighty troop, A throng of warriors thirsting after blood, 1270 With clamor loud unto the prison mirk.

They gave command to lead the n.o.ble saint, That steadfast man, into his foemen's grasp; And once again he suffered all day long, Beaten with grievous blows; his blood welled out In streams o'er all his body....

...Worn with wounds He scarce felt any pain. Then from his breast The sound of weeping issued faintly forth, A stream welled up, and thus he spake in words:-- 1280 ”O G.o.d, my Lord, behold now mine estate, Ruler of hosts, Thou who dost understand And know the misery of every man; I trust in Thee, Thou Author of my life, That, in Thy mercy and Thy glorious power, O Savior of mankind, Thou never wilt Forsake me, everlasting G.o.d of might; So while my life shall last I ne'er will leave, O G.o.d, Thy gracious teachings! Lo, Thou art 1290 A s.h.i.+eld against the weapons of the foe For all Thy saints, eternal Source of joy.

Let not man's foe, the first-born child of sin, Revile me now, nor by his fiendish craft Cover with woe the men who spread Thy praise.”

Then in their midst the ugly fiend appeared, That wicked traitor d.a.m.ned to torments sharp; Before the host he taught the warriors, The Devil of h.e.l.l, and this word did he speak:-- ”Come, smite the wicked wretch upon his mouth, 1300 The foeman of this folk; too much he talks!”

Then was the strife stirred up once more anew, And violence arose, until the sun Went to his setting 'neath the gloomy earth; Night shrouded all, and spread o'er mountains steep, A dusky brown. Then to the prison mirk Once more the brave and righteous saint was led, And all night long that true man had to dwell Within his wretched den, the house unclean. 1310

Then came unto the hall with other six That demon vile, mindful of evil deeds, The lord of murder, shrouded in deep gloom, The Devil fierce, bereft of majesty, And to the saint he spake reviling words:-- ”Andrew, why didst thou plan thy coming here, Into the power of foes? Where is that fame Which in thy arrogance thou didst set up, When thou wouldst overthrow our G.o.ds' renown?

Thou hast claimed all things for thyself alone, 1320 The land and people, as thy master did; He set up royal power upon the earth, As long as it might stand--Christ was his name.

Herod, the king, deprived him of his life, He overcame the King of the Jews in war, Robbed him of power, and nailed him on the rood, That on the cross he might give up his life.

So now I bid my sons, my mighty thanes, To vanquish thee, his follower, in the fight.

Let javelin-point and arrow poison-dipped 1330 Pierce his doomed breast! Advance, ye bold of heart, That ye may humble low this warrior's pride!”

Fierce-souled were they, and quickly rushed they on With greedy hands; but G.o.d defended him, Guiding him steadfast by His own strong might.

Soon as they recognized upon his face The glorious token of Christ's holy cross, They all were terrified in the attack, Sorely afraid, thrown headlong into flight. 1340

The ancient fiend, the prisoner of h.e.l.l, Began once more to sing his mournful song:-- ”What happened, O my warriors so bold, My s.h.i.+eld-companions, that ye fared so ill?”

An ill-starred wretch, a fiend of wicked heart, Gave answer then, and to his father said:-- ”We shall not quickly work him any harm, Nor slay him by our wiles; go thou to him; There wilt thou surely find a bitter fight, A savage battle, if again thou dar'st 1350 To risk thy life against that lonely man.

Much better counsel in the play of swords We easily can give thee, lord beloved: Before thou shalt resort to open war And battle-rush, see to it how thou fare In that exchange of blows; but let us go Again, that we may mock him fast in bonds, And taunt him with his misery; have words Ready devised against that wicked wretch.”

Then with a mighty voice cried out that fiend 1360 Weighed down with torments, and this word he spake:-- ”Long time, O Andrew, hast thou been well versed In arts of sorcery; thou hast deceived And led astray much people; but thou shalt No longer now have power upon such works, For grievous torments are decreed for thee According to thy deeds. With weary heart, Joyless, degraded, thou shalt suffer woes, The bitter pangs of death. My warriors Are ready for the battle; they will soon Deprive thee of thy life by valiant deeds. 1370 What man on earth so mighty that he may Release thee from thy bonds, if I oppose?”

Straightway did Andrew answer him again:-- ”Almighty G.o.d with ease can rescue me From all my grief--He who in days of yore Fettered thee fast with fiery chains in woe.

There, shorn of glory, bound with torments fierce, In exile hast thou dwelt e'er since the day 1380 When thou didst set at naught the word of G.o.d, Of Heaven's King; then did thy woe begin, And to thy exile there shall be no end; But thou shalt still heap up thy wretchedness To everlasting life, and evermore Thy lot shall grow yet harsher day by day.”

Then fled that fiend who in the years long past Began a deadly feud against his G.o.d.

Then at the dawning, when the day first broke, A troop of heathens came to find the saint, A mighty throng, and gave command to lead 1390 That valiant-hearted thane a third time forth.

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