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YALE    STUDIES    IN   ENGLISH 
ALBERT  S.  COOK,  EDITOR 

VII 

' 

ANDREAS; 

- 

THE   LEGEND  OF  ST.   ANDREW 

TRANSLATED    FROM   THE   OLD   ENGLISH 

BY 

ROBERT  KILBURN  ROOT 


NEW  YORK 
HENRY   HOLT   AND    COMPANY 

1899 


ERRATA. 


For  Angelsdchsen  read  Angelsachsen. 
"     Fritsche  "      Fritzsche. 

"      homilist. 
"       hast. 
"       Till. 


p.  IV. 

p.  V. 

p.  IX.  "  homilest 

p.  18,  1.  550.  "  has 

p.  27,  1.  835.  «  Till 

p.  57.  "  Siever's 


Sievers'. 


T'R 


PREFACE 


It  is  always  a  somewhat  hardy  undertaking  to  attempt 
the  translation  of  poetry,  for  such  a  translation  will 
at  the  best  be  but  a  shadow  of  that  which  it  would  fain 
represent.  Yet  I  trust  that  even  an  imperfect  rendering  of 
one  of  the  best  of  the  Old  English  poems  will  in  some 
measure  contribute  towards  a  wider  appreciation  of  our 
earliest  literature,  for  the  poem  is  accessible  to  the  general 
reader  only  in  the  baldly  literal  and  somewhat  inaccu 
rate  translation  of  Kemble,  published  in  1843,  and  now 
out  of  print. 

I  have  chosen  blank  verse  as  the  most  suitable  metre 
for  the  translation  of  a  long  and  dignified  narrative  poem, 
as  the  metre  which  can  most  nearly  reproduce  the  strength, 
the  nobility,  the  variety  and  rapidity  of  the  original.  The 
ballad  measure  as  used  by  Lumsden  in  his  translation  of 
Beowulf  is  monotonous  and  trivial,  while  the  measure  used 
by  Morris  and  others,  and  intended  as  an  imitation  of  the 
Old  English  alliterative  measure,  is  wholly  impracticable. 
It  is  a  hybrid  product,  neither  Old  English  nor  modern, 
producing  both  weariness  and  disgust ;  for,  while  copying 
the  external  features  of  its  original,  it  loses  wholly  its 
aesthetic  qualities. 

In  my  diction  I  have  sought  after  simple  and  idiomatic 
English,  studying  the  noble  archaism  of  the  King  James 
Bible,  rather  than  affecting  the  Wardour  Street  dialect  of 
William  Morris  or  Professor  Earle,  which  is  often  utterly 
unintelligible  to  any  but  the  special  student  of  Middle 
English.  My  translation  is  faithful,  but  not  literal ;  I 

in 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

have  not  hesitated  to  make  a  passive  construction  active, 
or  to  translate  a  compound  adjective  by  a  phrase.  To 
quote  from  King  Alfred's  preface  to  his  translation  of 
Boethius,  I  have  "at  times  translated  word  by  word,  and 
at  times  sense  by  sense,  in  whatsoever  way  I  might  most 
clearly  and  intelligibly  interpret  it." 

The  text  followed  is  that  of  Grein-Wiilker  in  the  Biblio- 
thek  der  Angelsdchsischen  Poesie  (Leipzig,  1894),  and  the  lines 
of  my  translation  are  numbered  according  to  that  edition. 
I  have  not,  however,  felt  obliged  to  follow  his  punctuation. 
Where  it.  has  seemed  best  to  adopt  other  readings,  I  have 
mentioned  the  fact  in  my  notes. 

I  have  compared  my  translation  with  those  of  Kemble 
and  Grein  (Dichtungen  der  Angelsachsen),  and  am  occasion 
ally  indebted  to  them  for  a  word  or  a  phrase. 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  acknowledge  my  indebted 
ness  to  Dr.  Frank  H.  Chase,  who  has  very  carefully  read 
my  translation  in  manuscript ;  and  to  Professor  Albert  S. 
Cook,  who  has  given  me  his  help  and  advice  at  all  stages 
of  my  work  from  its  inception  to  its  publication.  To  Mr. 
Charles  G.  Osgood,  Jr.,  I  am  also  indebted  for  valuable 
criticism. 

ROBERT  KILBURN  ROOT. 
YALE  UNIVERSITY, 
April  7,  1899. 


IV 


INTRODUCTION 

While  traveling  in  Italy  during  the 
The  Manuscript,  year  1832,  Dr.  Blume,  a  German  scholar, 
discovered  in  the  cathedral  library  at 
Vercelli  an  Old  English  manuscript  containing  both  poetry 
and  prose.  The  longest  and  the  best  of  the  poems  is  the 
Andreas,  or  Legend  of  St.  Andrew. 

How  did  this  manuscript  find  its  way  across  the  Alps 
into  a  country  where  its  language  was  wholly  unintelli 
gible  ?  Several  theories  have  been  advanced,  the  most 
plausible  being  that  advocated  by  Cook.1  According  to 
this  view  it  was  carried  thither  by  Cardinal  Guala,  who 
during  the  reign  of  Henry  III  was  prior  of  St.  Andrew's, 
Chester.  On  his  return  to  Italy  he  built  the  monastery  of 
St.  Andrew  in  Vercelli,  strongly  English  in  its  architec 
ture.  Since  the  manuscript  contained  a  poem  about  St. 
Andrew,  it  would  have  been  an  appropriate  gift  to  St. 
Andrew's  Church  in  Vercelli.  Wiilker's  theory  that  it  was 
owned  by  an  Anglo-Saxon  hospice  at  Vercelli  rests  on 
very  shadowy  arguments,  since  he  adduces  no  satisfactory 
proof  that  such  a  hospice  ever  existed. 

On  the  strength  of  certain  marked  simi- 
*  a          larities  of  style  and  diction  to  the  signed 
poems  of  Cynewulf,   the  earlier  editors 
of  the  Andreas  assigned  the  poem  to  him,  and  were  fol 
lowed  by  Dietrich,  Grein,  and  Ten  Brink.     But  Fritsche 
(Anglia  II),  arguing  from  other  equally  marked   dissimi- 

1  Cardinal  Guala  and  the  Vercelli  Book,  Univ.  of  Cal.  Library  Bulletin 
No.  10.  Sacramento,  1888. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

larities,  denies  its  Cynewulfian  authorship,  and  is  sustained 
in  his  position  by  Sievers,  though  vigorously  opposed  by 
Ramhorst.  More  recently  Trautman  (Anglia,  Beiblatt  VI. 
17)  reasserts  the  older  view,  declaring  his  belief  that  the 
Fates  of  the  Apostles,  in  which  Napier  has  discovered  the 
runic  signature  of  Cynewulf,  is  but  the  closing  section  of 
the  Andreas.  There  is  much  to  be  said  in  favor  of  this  last 
theory,  which  would  establish  Cynewulf  as  the  author  of 
the  entire  work  ;  but  the  whole  question  is  far  from  being 
settled.  We  can  at  least  affirm  that  the  author  was  a 
devout  churchman  and  a  dweller  by  the  sea,  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  poems  of  Cynewulf. 

It  is  equally  impossible  to  determine  with  any  certainty 
the  date  of  authorship,  since  the  poem  is  wholly  lacking  in 
contemporary  allusions.  Nor  can  we  base  any  argument 
upon  its  language,  since,  in  all  probability,  its  present  form 
is  but  a  West  Saxon  transcript  of  an  older  Northumbrian 
or  Mercian  version.  If  Cynewulf  flourished  in  the  eighth 
century,  the  date  of  the  Andreas  is  probably  not  much 
later.  The  Vercelli  manuscript  is  assigned  to  the  first  half 
of  the  eleventh  century. 

Fortunately  we  can  speak  with  more  assur- 
Sourccs.  ance  about  the  sources  of  the  poem.  It  follows 
closely,  though  not  slavishly,  the  Acts  of  Andrew 
and  Matthew,  contained  in  the  Apocryphal  Acts  of  the  Apostles? 
Like  the  great  English  poets  of  the  fourteenth  and  six 
teenth  centuries,  the  poet  of  the  Andreas  has  borrowed  his 
story  from  a  foreign  source,  and  like  them  he  has  added 
and  altered  until  he  has  made  it  thoroughly  his  own  and 
thoroughly  English.  We  can  learn  from  it  the  tastes  and 

1  Acta  Apostolorum  Apocrypha,  ed.  Tischendorf.  Leipzig,  1851,  pp. 
132-166.  (For  a  translation  of  part  of  the  Acts  of  Andrew  and  Matthew, 
see  Cook's  First  Book  in  Old  English,  Appendix  III.) 


VI 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

ideals  of  our  Anglo-Saxon  forefathers  quite  as  well  as 
from  a  poem  wholly  original  in  its  composition.  Most 
clearly  do  we  discover  their  love  of  the  sea.  The  action 
of  the  story  brings  in  a  voyage,  which  the  Greek  narrative 
dismisses  with  a  few  words,  merely  as  a  piece  of  necessary 
machinery.  The  Old  English  poem,  on  the  contrary,  ex 
pands  the  incident  into  many  lines.  A  storm  is  intro 
duced  and  described  with  great  vigor  ;  we  see  the  circling 
gull  and  the  darting  horn-fish  ;  we  hear  the  creaking  of  the 
ropes  and  the  roaring  of  the  waves.1  Every  mention  of 
the  sea  is  dwelt  upon  with  lingering  affection,  and 
described  with  vivid  metaphor.  It  is  now  the  "  bosom  of 
the  flood,"  now  the  "whale-road"  or  the  "fish's  bath." 
Again  it  is  the  l<  welter  of  the  waves,"  or  its  more  angry 
mood  is  personified  as  the  "  Terror  of  the  waters."  In  the 
first  500  lines  alone  there  are  no  less  than  43  different 
words  and  phrases  denoting  the  sea. 

Daybreak  and  sunset,  too,  are  described  with  much 
beauty,  and  in  one  passage  at  least  with  strong  imagi 
nation.  We  can  have  no  doubt  that  the  poet  was  a  close 
watcher  and  keen  lover  of  nature.  We  can  imagine  him 
walking  on  the  cliffs  beside  his  beloved  ocean,  watching 
for  the  sunrise,  rejoicing  in  the  glory  of  the  sky, 

As  heaven's  candle  shone  across  the  floods.2 

I  have  said,  too,  that  he  was  a  devout  churchman.  Many 
of  the  noble  hymns  and  prayers  with  which  the  poem 
abounds  are  largely  original,  expanded  from  a  mere  line 
or  two  in  the  Greek.  Many  and  beautiful  are  the  epithets 
or  kennings  which  he  applies  to  God,  taken  in  part  from 
the  Bible,  and  in  part  from  the  imagery  of  the  not  wholly 
extinct  heathen  mythology. 

1  See  369-381.  2  See  243. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Thoroughly  English  is  his  love  of  violent  action,  of  war 
and  bloodshed.  Andrew  is  a  "warrior  brave  in  the  battle"  ; 
the  apostles  are 

Thanes  of  the  Lord,  whose  courage  for  the  fight 
Failed  never,  e'en  when  helmets  crashed  in  war, 

and  their  missions  are  rather  military  expeditions  than 
peaceful  pilgrimages. 

One  concrete  example  will  serve  well  to  show  in  what 
spirit  the  author  has  dealt  with  his  original.  The  disciples 
of  Andrew  are  so  terrified  by  the  sea  that  the  Lord  (dis 
guised  as  a  shipmaster)  suggests  that  they  shall  go  ashore 
and  await  the  return  of  their  master.  In  the  Greek  the 
disciples  answer :  "  If  we  leave  thee,  then  shall  we  be 
strangers  to  those  good  things  which  the  Lord  hath  prom 
ised  unto  us.  Therefore  will  we  abide  with  thee,  wherever 
thou  go."1  In  the  Old  English  :— 

O  whither  shall  we  turn  us,  lordless  men, 

Mourning  in  heart,  forsaken  quite  by  God, 

Wounded  with  sin,  if  we  abandon  thee  ? 

We  shall  be  odious  in  every  land, 

Hated  of  every  folk,  when  sons  of  men, 

Courageous  warriors,  in  council  sit, 

And  question  which  of  them  did  best  stand  by 

His  lord  in  battle,  when  the  hand  and  shield, 

Worn  out  by  broadswords  on  the  battle-plain, 

Suffered  sore  danger  in  the  sport  of  war.  (405-414.) 

There  is  in  the  Greek  no  trace  of  the  Teutonic  idea  of 
loyalty  to  a  lord,  which  is  the  ruling  motive  of  the  Old 
English  lines. 

But  did  the  poet  read  the  legend  in  the  Greek  ?    The 
study  of  that  language  had,  it  is  true,  been  introduced  into 
England  in  the  seventh  century  by  Archbishop  Theodore1, 
1  Bede,  Hist.  Eccl.  IV.  2. 

VIII 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

but  we  can  hardly  assume  that  this  study  was  very  general. 
Moreover,  there  are  several  important  variations  between 
the  poem  and  the  Acts  of  Andrew  and  Matthew,  facts  want 
ing  in  the  Greek,  which  the  poet  could  not  possibly  have 
invented.  For  example,  the  poem  states  that  Andrew  was 
in  Achaia  when  he  received  the  mission  to  Mermedonia. 
In  the  Greek  we  find  no  mention  of  Achaia,  nor  is  the 
name  "  Mermedonia  "  given  at  all.  After  the  conversion 
of  the  Mermedonians,  the  poet  says  that  Andrew  appointed 
a  bishop  over  them,  whose  name  was  Platan.  Again  the 
Greek  is  silent.  There  is,  however,  an  Old  English  homily1 
of  unknown  authorship  and  uncertain  date,  which  con 
tains  these  three  facts,  (though  the  name  of  the  bishop  is 
not  given).  Still  another  remarkable  coincidence  has  been 
pointed  out  by  Zupitza.2  In  line  1189  of  the  Andreas, 
Satan  is  addressed  as  deofles  str(zl("  shaft  of  the  devil  "),  and 
in  the  homily  also  the  same  word  (strcel)  is  found.  But  in 
the  corresponding  passage  of  the  Greek  we  find  *O  BeXwx 
exflpoWe  ("  O  most  hateful  Belial ").  From  this  corre 
spondence  between  the  poem  and  the  homily,  Zupitza  argues 
the  existence  of  a  Latin  translation  of  the  Greek,  from 
which  both  the  Andreas  and  the  homily  were  made, 
assuming  that  the  ignorant  Latinist  confused  BeA/a  (Belial) 
with  Be\os  ("arrow,"  "shaft,"),  translating  it  by  telum  or 
sagitta.  It  is  hardly  probable  that  both  the  poet  and  the 
homilest  should  have  made  the  same  mistake. 

The  homily  could  not  have  been  drawn  from  the  poem, 
nor  the  poem  from  the  homily,  for  in  each  we  find  facts 
and  phrases  of  the  Greek  not  contained  in  the  other.  For 
example,  both  in  the  Greek  and  in  the  homily,  the  flood 
which  sweeps  away  the  Mermedonians  proceeds  from  the 

1  Bright,  Anglo-Saxon  Reader,  pp.  113-128. 

2  Zeitschrift  fiir  Deutsches  Altertum,  XXX.  175, 

IX 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

mouth  of  an  alabaster  image  standing  upon  a  pillar,  while 
in  the  poem  it  springs  forth  from  the  base  of  the  pillar 
itself.  On  the  other  hand,  most  of  the  dialogue  between 
Andrew  and  the  Lord  on  shipboard,  as  well  as  other  im 
portant  incidents,  are  wanting  in  the  homily. 

Summing  up,  then,  we  have  the  homily  and  the  poem 
agreeing  in  some  important  points  in  which  both  differ 
from  the  Greek,  but  so  dissimilar  in  other  points  that 
neither  could  have  been  the  source  of  the  other.  In  the 
light  of  these  similarities  and  variations,  and  of  others 
which  space  prevents  me  from  mentioning,  we  must  sup 
pose  the  homily  to  have  been  taken  from  an  abridgment 
of  the  Latin  version,  of  which  the  poet  saw  a  somewhat 
corrupt  copy.  It  is  also  not  improbable  that  this  Latin 
version  may  have  been  made  from  a  Greek  manuscript 
varying  in  some  details  from  the  legend  as  it  appears  in 
Tischendorf's  edition.  This  view  is  sustained  by  a  Syrian 
translation,  which  in  some  respects  agrees  with  our  hypo 
thetical  Latin  version.  But  this  Latin  version  has  never 
been  discovered,  though  some  fragments  of  the  legend  are 
found  in  the  Latin  of  Pseudo-Abdias  and  the  Legenda 
Aurea?  which  curiously  enough  supply  several  of  the  facts 
missing  in  the  Greek,  namely,  that  Andrew  was  teaching 
in  Achaia,  and  that  the  land  of  the  Anthropophagi  was 
called  Mermedonia. 

So  much  for  the  sources  of  the  poem  as  a  whole.  The 
poet  is  also  deeply  indebted  to  the  Beowulf  and  to  the 
poems  of  Cynewulf  (unless  he  be  Cynewulf  himself)  for 
lines  and  phrases  throughout  his  work.  One  example  of 
this  borrowing  will  suffice.  In  line  999,  when  Andrew 
reaches  the  prison,  we  read  (translating  literally) :  "  The 
door  quickly  opened  at  the  touch  of  the  holy  saint's  hand." 
1  Grimm,  Andreas  und  Elene,  XIII-XVI. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

In  the  Greek  :  "  And  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon 
the  door,  and  it  opened  of  its  own  accord."  Why  has  the 
poet  omitted  the  sign  of  the  cross  ?  We  are  unable  to 
answer  until  we  read  in  the  Beowulf  (721)  that  at  the  com 
ing  of  the  monster  Grendel  to  Heorot "  the  door  quickly 
opened  ....  soon  as  he  touched  it  with  his  hands." 

How  shall  we  rank  the  Legend  of  St. 
The  Poem  as  a  Andrew  among  the  other  poems  of  the 
Work  of  Art. 

Anglo-Saxons  ?    and    what    are   its    chief 

merits  as  a  work  of  art  ?  The  Old  English  epics  may  be 
divided  into  two  general  classes  :  the  heroic  epic,  of  which 
the  Beowulf  is  the  chief  example  ;  and  the  larger  group 
of  religious  epics,  including  the  poems  of  Cynewulf,  of 
Pseudo-Caedmon,  the  Judith,  and  the  Andreas. 

In  spite  of  occasional  Christian  interpolations  the  Beo 
wulf  is  essentially  pagan,  the  expression  of  English  senti 
ments  and  ideals  before  Augustine  led  his  little  band  of 
chanting  monks  through  the  streets  of  Canterbury.  In 
the  Andreas  we  see  better,  perhaps,  than  in  any  of  the 
religious  epics,  these  same  sentiments  and  ideals  softened 
and  ennobled  by  the  sweet  spirit  of  the  Christian  religion. 
We  see  the  conversion  of  England  in  the  very  process  of 
its  accomplishment.  We  see  the  beauties  of  Paganism  and 
those  of  Christianity  blending  with  each  other,  much  as  the 
Medieval  and  the  Renaissance  are  blended  in  Spenser.  In 
the  one  aspect  Andrew  is  the  valiant  hero,  like  Beowulf, 
crossing  the  sea  to  accomplish  a  mighty  deed  of  deliverance; 
in  the  other  he  is  the  saintly  confessor,  the  patient  sufferer, 
whose  whole  trust  is  in  the  Lord. 

If  we  compare  the  poem  with  the  other  epics  of  its  class, 
its  most  formidable  competitors  are  the  anonymous  Judith 
and  Cynewulf 's  Christ.  But  Judith,  though  unquestionably 

XI 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

more  brilliant,  is  but  a  fragment  of  350  lines,  and  the  Christ, 
in  spite  of  its  many  beautiful  passages,  is  entirely  lacking 
in  movement.  The  Andreas  is  complete,  and,  if  we  except 
the  long  dialogue  of  Andrew  and  the  Lord  at  sea,  moves 
steadily  towards  the  end  with  considerable  variety  of 
action.  If  the  characterization  is  crude,  the  descriptions 
are  vivid,  the  speeches  are  often  vigorous,  and  the  treat 
ment  of  nature  is  throughout  charming.  It  seems  to  me 
eminently  suited  by  its  subject  and  manner  to  stand  as  an 
example  of  the  Old  English  religious  epic,  an  example  of 
a  form  of  literature  with  which  every  serious  student  of 
our  English  poetry  should  be  familiar.  For  English  liter 
ature  does  not  begin  with  Chaucer.  He  who  would  under 
stand  it  well  must  know  it  also  in  its  purer  English  form 
before  the  coming  of  the  Normans. 

It  only  remains  to  give  a  brief  synopsis 
The  Argument,  of  the  poem.'  It  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of 
Matthew  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the 
cannibal  Mermedonians  ;  they  seize  him  and  his  company, 
•  binding  him  and  casting  him  into  prison,  where  he  is  to 
remain  until  his  turn  comes  to  be  eaten  (1-58).  He  prays 
to  God  for  help,  and  the  Lord  sends  Andrew  to  deliver 
\  ^.if  him  (59-234).  Andrew  and  his  disciples  come  to  the  sea 
shore  and  find  a  bark  with  three  seamen,  who  are  in 
reality  the  Lord  and  His  two  angels.  On  learning  that 
Andrew  is  a  follower  of  Jesus,  the  shipmaster  agrees  to 
carry  him  to  Mermedonia  (234-359).  A  storm  arises,  at 
which  the  disciples  of  Andrew  are  greatly  terrified  ;  he 
reminds  them  how  Christ  stilled  the  tempest,  and  they  fall 
asleep  (360-464).  A  dialogue  ensues,  in  which  Andrew 
relates  to  the  shipmaster  many  of  Christ's  miracles  (465- 
817).  He  falls  asleep,  and  is  carried  by  the  angels  to 

XII 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Mermedonia.  On  awaking,  he  beholds  the  city,  and  his 
disciples  sleeping  beside  him.  They  relate  to  him  a  vision 
which  they  had  seen.  The  Lord  appears  and  bids  him 
enter  the  city,  covering  him  with  a  cloud  (818-989).  He 
reaches  the  prison,  the  doors  of  which  fly  open  at  his 
touch,  and  rescues  Matthew,  whom  he  sends  away  with  all 
his  company  (990-1057).  The  Mermedonians,  confronted 
with  famine,  choose  one  of  their  number  by  lot  to  serve 
as  food  for  the  rest.  He  offers  his  son  as  a  substitute,  but, 
as  the  heathen  are  about  to  slay  their  victim,  Andrew 
interposes  and  causes  their  weapons  to  melt  away  like  wax 
(1058-1154).  Instigated  by  the  Devil,  they  seize  Andrew, 
and  for  three  days  subject  him  to  the  most  cruel  torments 
(1155-1462).  On  the  fourth  the  Lord  comes  to  his  prison 
and  heals  him  of  his  wounds.  Beside  the  prison  wall 
Andrew  sees  a  marble  pillar,  which,  at  his  command,  sends 
forth  a  great  flood,  destroying  many  of  the  people  (1462- 
1575).  Andrew  takes  pity  upon  them  and  causes  the  flood 
to  cease.  The  mountain  is  cleft  and  swallows  up  the 
waters,  together  with  fourteen  of  the  worst  of  the  heathen. 
The  others  are  restored  to  life  and  baptized.  After  build 
ing  a  church  and  appointing  a  bishop,  Andrew  returns  to 
Achaia,  followed  by  the  prayers  of  his  new  converts  (1575- 
1722). 


XIII 


THE  LEGEND  OF  ST.  ANDREW 


Lo  !  we  have  learned  of  Twelve  in  days  gone  by, 

Who  dwelt  beneath  the  stars,  in  glory  rich, 

Thanes  of  the  Lord,  whose  courage  for  the  fight 

Failed  never,  e'en  when  helmets  crashed  in  war, 

From  that  time  when  they  portioned  each  his  place, 

As  God  himself  declared  to  them  by  lot, 

High  King  of  heaven  above.     Renowned  men 

Were  they  through  all  the  earth,  and  leaders  bold, 

Brave  in  the  battle,  warriors  of  might, 

When  shield  and  hand  the  helmet  did  protect  10 

Upon  the  field  of  fate.     Of  that  brave  band 

Was  MaSn~iw~one,  who  first  among  the  Jews 

Began  to  write  the  Gospel  downJn^wQ.rd^^ 

With  wpndrous  power.     To  him  did  Holy  God 

Assign  his  lot  upon  that  distant  isle 

Where  never  yet  could  any  outland  man 

Enjoy  a  happy  life  or  find  a  home. 

Him  did  the  murderous  hands  of  bloody  men 

Upon  the  field  of  battle  oft  oppress 

Right  grievously.     That  country  all  about, 

The  folkstead  of  the  men,  was  compassed 

With  slaughter  and  with  foemen's  treachery,  20 

That  home  of  heroes.     Dwellers  in  that  land 

Had  neither  bread  nor  water  to  enjoy, 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew  \ 

But  on  the  flesh  and  blood  of  stranger  men, 

Come  from  afar,  that  people  made  their  feast. 

This  was  their  custom  :  every  foreigner 

Who  visited  that  island  from  without 

They  seized  as  food— these  famine-stricken  men. 

This  was  the  cruel  practice  of  that  folk, 

Mighty  in  wickedness,  most  savage  foes  :  30 

With  javelin  points  they  poured  upon  the  ground 

The  jewel  of  the  head,  the  eyes'  clear  sight ; 

And  after  brewed  for  them  a  bitter  draught— 

These  wizards  by  their  magic — drink  accursed, 

Which  led  astray  the  wits  of  hapless  men, 

The  heart  within  their  breasts,  until  they  grieved 

No  longer  for  the  happiness  of  men  ; 

Weary  for  food  they  fed  on  hay  and  grass. 

When  to  this  far-famed  city  Matthew  came,  40 

There  rose  great  outcry  through  the  sinful  tribe, 
That  cursed  throng  of  Mermedonians. 
Soon  as  those  servants  of  the  Devil  learned 
The  noble  saint  was  come  unto  their  land, 
They  marched  against  him,  armed  with  javelins  ; 
Under  their  linden-shields  they  went  in  haste, 
Grim  bearers  of  the  lance,  to  meet  the  foe. 
They  bound  his  hands  ;  with  foeman's  cunning  skill 
They  made  them  fast — those  warriors  doomed  to  hell —  50 
With  swords  they  pierced  the  jewel  of  his  head. 
Yet  in  his  heart  he  honored  Heaven's  King, 
Though  of  the  drink  envenomed  he  had  drunk, 
Of  virtue  terrible ;  steadfast  and  glad, 
With  courage  unabashed,  he  worshiped  still 
The  Prince  of  glory,  King  of  heaven  above  ; 
And  from  the  prison  rose  his  holy  voice. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Within  his  noble  breast  the  praise  of  Christ 

Stood  fast  imprinted ;  weeping  tears  of  woe, 

With  sorrowful  voice  of  mourning  he  addressed  60 

His  Lord  victorious,  speaking  thus  in  words  : — 

"  Behold  how  these  fierce  strangers  knit  for  me 

A  chain  of  mischief,  an  ensnaring  net. 

c 
Ever  have  I  been  zealous  in  my  heart 

To  do  Thy  will  in  all  things  ;  now  in  grief 
The  life  of  the  dumb  cattle  I  must  lead. 
Thou,  Lord,  alone,  Creator  of  mankind, 
Dost  know  the  hidden  thoughts  of  every  heart. 

0  Prince  of  glory,  if  it  be  thy  will  — 

That  with  the  sword's  keen  edge  perfidious  men 

Put  me  at  rest,  I  am  prepared  straightway 

To  suffer  whatsoever  Thou,  my  Lord, 

Who  givest  bliss  to  that  high  angel-band, 

Shalt  send  me  as  my  portion  in  this  world, 

A  homeless  wanderer,  O  Lord  of  hosts. 

In  mercy  grant  to  me,  Almighty  God, 

Light  in  this  life,  lest,  blinded  in  this  town 

By  hostile  swords,  I  needs  must  longer  bear 

Reviling  words,  the  grievous  calumny 

Of  slaughter-greedy  men,  of  hated  foes.  80 

On  Thee  alone,  Protector  of  the  world, 

1  fix  my  mind,  my  heart's  unfailing  love  ; 
So,  Father  of  the  angels,  Lord  of  hosts, 
Bright  Giver  of  all  bliss,  to  Thee  I  pray, 
That  Thoufappoirit  me  not  among  my  foes, 
Artificers  of  wrong  forever  damned, 

The  death  most  grievous  on  this  earth  of  Thine." 

After  these  words  there  came  to  his  dark  cell 
A  sacred  sign  all-glorious  from  heaven, 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Like  to  the  shining  sun  ;  then  was  it  shown  90 

That  holy  God  was  working  aid  for  him. 

The  voice  of  Heaven's  Majesty  was  heard, 

The  music  of  the  glorious  Lord's  sweet  words, 

Wondrous  beneath  the  skies.     To  His  true  thane 

Brave  in  the  fight,  in  dungeon  harsh  confined,_ 

He  promised  help  and  comfort  witfe -clear  voicej^- 

"  Matthew,  My  peace  on  earth  I  give  to  thee  ; 

Let  not  thy  heart  be  troubled,  neither  mourn 

Too  much  in  mind  ;  I  will  abide  with  thee, 

And  I  will  loose  thee  from  these  bonds  that  bind         100 

Thy  limbs,  and  loose  all  that  great  multitude 

That  dwells  with  thee  in  strait  captivity. 

To  thee  I  open  by  My  holy  power 

The  meadow  radiant  of  Paradise, 

Brightest  of  splendors,  dwelling-place  most  fair, 

That  home  most  blessed,  where  thou  mayst  enjoy 

Glory  and  bliss  to  everlasting  life. 

Suffer  this  people's  cruelty  ;  not  long 

Can  faithless  men  afflict  thee  sinfully 

With  chains  of  torment  by  their  crafty  wiles. 
/V 

StraightVill  I  send  unto  this  heathen  town  no 

Andrew  to  be  thy  comfort  and  defense  ; 
He  will  release  thee  from  thine  enemies. 
^Jx^    Thou  hast  not  long  to  wait ;  in  very  truth 
iStrt-seven  and  twenty  days  fulfil  the  time, 
When,  sorrow-laden,  thou  shalt  go  from  hence, 
Under  God's  care,  with  victory  adorned." 
The  Holy  One,  Defense  of  all  mankind, 
The  angels'  Lord,  departed  to  the  land 
High  in  the  heavens — He  is  the  King  by  right,  120 

Steadfast  He  rules  supreme  in  all  the  world. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Exalted  high  was  Matthew  at  the  voice 
New-heard.     The  veil  of  darkness  slipped  away, 
Vanished  in  haste  ;  and  straightway  came  the  light, 
The  murmuring  sound  of  early  reddening  dawn. 
The  host  assembled  ;  heathen  warriors 
Thronged  in  great  crowds  ;  their  battle-armor  sang  ; 
Their  spears  they  brandished,  angry  in  their  hearts, 
Under  the  roof  of  shields  ;  they  fain  would  see 
Whether  those  hapless  men  were  yet  alive, 
Who  fast  in  chains  within  their  prison-walls  130 

Had  dwelt  a  while  in  comfortless  abode, 
And  which  one  they  might  first  for  their  repast 
Rob  of  his  life  after  the  time  ordained. 
They  had  set  down,  those  slaughter-greedy  foes, 
In  runic  characters  and  numerals 
The  death-day  of  those  men,  when  they  should  serve 
As  food  unto  that  famine-stricken  tribe. 
Then  clamored  loudly  that  cold-hearted  brood ; 
Throng  pressed  on  throng  ;  their  cruel  counsellors 
Recked  not  at  all  of  mercy  or  of  right. 
Oft  did  their  souls,  led  by  the  devil's  lore, 
Under  the  dusky  shadows  penetrate, 
When  in  the  might  of  beings  ever-cursed 
They  put  their  trust.     They  found  that  holy  man, 
Prudent  of  mind,  within  his  prison  dark, 
Awaiting  bravely  what  the  radiant  King, 
Creator  of  the  angels,  should  vouchsafe. 
Then  was  accomplished,  all  except  three  nights, 
The  appointed  time,  the  season  foreordained, 
Which  those  fierce  wolves  of  war  had  written  down, 
At  end  of  which  they  planned  to  break  his  bones,        150 
And,  parting  straight  his  body  and  his  soul, 
To  portion  out  as  food  to  old  and  young 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

The  body  of  the  slain,  a  welcome  feast ; 

They  cared  not  for  the  soul,  those  greedy  men, 

How  after  death  the  spirit's  pilgrimage 

Might  be  decreed.     So  every  thirty  nights 

They  held  their  feast ;  most  fierce  was  their  desire 

To  tear  with  bloody  jaws  the  flesh  of  men  160 

To  be  their  food.     Then  He,  who  with  strong  might 

Stablished  this  world,  was  mindful  how  that  saint 

Abode  in  misery  'mongst  stranger  men, 

Fast  bound  in  chains — that  saint  who  for  His  sake 

Had  suffered  from  the  Hebrews,  had  withstood 

The  magic  incantations  of  the  Jews. 

Where  in  Achaia  holy  Andrew  dwelt, 
Guiding  his  people  in  the  way  of  life,  170 

A  voice  was  heard  from  out  the  heavens  above. 
To  him,  that  steadfast  saint,  the  Lord  of  hosts, 
Glory  of  kings,  Creator  of  mankind, 
Unlocked  the  treasure  of  His  heart,  and  thus 
In  words  He  spake  : — "  Thou  shalt  go  forth  and  bear 
My  peace,  and  journeying  shalt  fare  where  men, 
Devourers  of  their  kind,  possess  the  land, 
And  hold  their  home  secure  by  murderous  might. 
This  is  the  custom  of  that  multitude : 
Within  their  land  they  spare  no  stranger's  life, 
But  when  those  evil-doers  chance  to  find 
A  helpless  wight  in  Mermedonia,  180 

Death  must  be  dealt  and  cruel  murder  done. 
I  know  that  'mongst  those  townsmen,  fast  in  chains, 
Thy  brother  dwells,  that  saint  victorious. 
It  lacks  but  three  nights  of  the  time  ordained, 
When,  midst  that  people,  by  the  hard-gripped  spear, 
In  struggle  with  the  heathens,  he  must  needs 

6 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Send  forth  his  soul  all  ready  to  depart ; 
Unless  thou  come  before  the  appointed  time." 

Straightway  did  Andrew  answer  him  again  : 
"  My  Lord,  how  can  I  o'er  the  ocean  deep  190 

My  course  accomplish,  to  that  distant  shore, 
As  speedily  as  Thou,  O  King  of  glory, 
Creator  of  the  heavens,  dost  command  ? 
That  road  thine  angel  can  more  easily 
Traverse  from  heaven  ;  he  knows  the  watery  ways, 
The  salt  sea-streams,  the  wide  path  of  the  swan, 
The  battle  of  the  surf  against  the  shore, 
The  terror  of  the  waters,  and  the  tracks 
Across  the  boundless  land.     These  foreign  men 
Are  not  my  trusty  friends,  nor  do  I  know 
In  any  wise  the  counsels  of  this  folk  ;  200 

To  me  the  cold  sea-highways  are  unknown." 

Him  answered  then  the  everliving  Lord : — 
"  Alas,  O  Andrew,  that  thou  shouldst  be  slow 
To  undertake  this  journey,  since  for  God, 
Almighty  One,  it  were  not  hard  to  bring 
That  city  hither,  'neath  the  circling  sun, 
Unto  this  country,  o'er  the  ways  of  earth— 
The  princely  city  famous,  with  its  men — 
If  He,  the  Lord  of  Glory,  with  a  word  210 

Should  bid  it.     So  thou  mayst  not  hesitate 
To  undertake  this  journey,  nor  art  thou 
Too  weak  in  wit,  if  thou  but  keepest  well 
The  faithful  covenant  with  thy  Lord.     Be  thou 
Prepared  against  the  hour,  for  there  can  be 
No  tarrying  on  this  errand.     Thou  shalt  go 
And  bear  thy  life  into  the  grasp  of  men 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Full  violent,  where  'gainst  thee  shall  be  raised 

The  strife  of  warfare,  with  the  battle-din 

Of  heathens,  and  the  warriors'  martial  might. 

Even  to-morrow  with  the  early  dawn,  220 

At  the  sea's  border  thou  shalt  straightway  go 

On  shipboard,  and  upon  the  waters  cold, 

Over  the  ocean1,  break  thy  speedy  way. 

Thou  hast  My  blessing  over  all  the  earth, 

Wherever  thou  shalt  fare !"     The  Holy  One, 

Ruler  and  Guardian,  archangels'  King, 

The  world's  Defense,  betook  Him  to  His  home, 

That  glorious  home,  where  souls  of  righteous  men 

After  the  body's  fall  shall  life  enjoy. 

So  in  that  town  this  mission  was  decreed  230 

Unto  the  noble  champion  ;  not  abashed 

In  mind  was  he,  but  steadfast  for  the  deed 

Heroic  ;  hardy-hearted,  firm  in  soul, 

No  skulker  he  from  battle,  but  prepared 

For  warfare,  in  God's  struggle  stout  and  bold. 

So  at  the  dawning,  when  the  day  first  broke, 
He  gat  him  o'er  the  sand-downs  to  the  sea, 
Valiant  in  heart,  and  with  him  went  his  thanes 
To  walk  upon  the  shingle,  where  the  waves 
Loud  thundered,  and  the  streams  of  ocean  beat 
Against  the  shore.     Full  glad  was  that  brave  saint 
To  see  upon  the  sands  a  galley  fair  240 

Wide-bosomed.    Then,  behold,  resplendent  dawn, 
Brightest  of  beacons,  came  upon  her  way, 
Hasting  from  out  the  murky  gloom  of  night, 
And  heaven's  candle  shone  across  the  floods. 
Three  seamen  saw  he  there,  a  glorious  band, 
1  Lit.  "  bath-road." 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrezv 

Courageous  men,  upon  their  ocean-bark 

Sitting  all  ready  to  depart,  like  men 

Just  come  across  the  deep.     The  Lord  himself 

It  was,  the  everlasting  Lord  of  hosts, 

Almighty,  with  His  holy  angels  twain. 

In  raiment  they  were  like  seafaring  men,  250 

These  heroes,  like  to  wanderers  on  the  waves, 

When  in  the  flood's  embrace  they  sail  with  ships 

Upon  the  waters  cold  to  distant  lands. 

Then  he  who  stood  there,  eager,  on  the  shore, 
Upon  the  shingle,  greeted  him  and  said  : — 
"  Whence  come  ye,  men  in  seamanship  expert, 
Seafaring  on  your  ocean-coursing  bark, 
Your  lonely  ship?  whence  has  the  ocean-stream 
Wafted  you  o'er  the  welter  of  the  waves?" 

Then  answered  him  again  Almighty  God,  260 

In  such  wise  that  the  saint  who  heard  His  words 
Wist  not  what  one  of  speaking  men  it  was 
With  whom  he  was  conversing  on  the  strand. 
"  From  the  land  of  Mermedonia  are  we  come, 
Borne  hither  from  afar  ;  our  high-prowed  ship 
Carried  us  o'er  the  whale's  road  with  the  flood, 
Our  sea-horse  fleet,  all  girt  about  with  speed, 
Until  we  reached  the  country  of  this  folk, 
Sea-beaten,  as  the  wind  did  drive  us  on." 

Then  Andrew  humbly  answered  him  again  : —          270 
"  I  fain  would  beg  thee,  though  but  little  store 
Of  jewels  or  of  treasure  I  can  give, 
That  thou  wouldst  bring  us  in  thy  lofty  ship, 
Over  the  ocean1  on  thy  high-beaked  boat, 
1  Lit.  "  whale's  home." 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Unto  that  people;  thou  shalt  meed  receive 
From  God,  if  kindness  thou  but  show  to  us 
Upon  our  journey." 

The  Defense  of  kings, 

Maker  of  angels,  answered  from  His  ship:— 
"  Wide-faring  foreigners  can  never  dwell 
There  in  that  country,  nor  enjoy  the  land  ;  280 

But  in  that  city  they  must  suffer  death 
Who  thither  bring  their  lives  from  distant  shores. 
And  dost  thou  wish  to  traverse  the  wide  main, 
That  thou  mayst  spill  thy  life  in  bitter  war  ?" 

To  him  did  Andrew  answer  give  again  : — 
"  Our  hearts'  strong  hope  and  yearning  drives  us  forth 
To  seek  that  country  and  that  far-famed  town, 
If  thou,  most  noble  sir,  wilt  show  to  us 
Thy  gracious  kindness  on  the  wave-tossed  deep." 

Then  from  His  vessel's  prow,  the  angels'  Lord,        290 
The  Savior  of  mankind,  replied  to  him  : — 
"  Gladly  and  freely  we  will  carry  thee 
Across  the  ocean1,  e'en  to  that  far  land 
Which  thy  desire  doth  urge  thee  so  to  seek, 
When  thou  shalt  give  us  the  accustomed  sum, 
Thy  passage-money  ;  so  upon  our  bark 
We  seamen  will  grant  honor  unto  you." 

Then  straightway  Andrew  spake  to  him  in  words, 
That  friendless  saint : — "  I  have  no  beaten  gold,  300 

No  treasures,  neither  wealth  nor  sustenance, 
No  golden  clasps,  no  land,  nor  bracelets  woven, 
xLit.  "fish's  bath." 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 


That  thy  desire  I  now  may  satisfy, 

Thy  worldly  wishes,  as  thou  sayst  in  words." 

The  Prince  of  Men  gave  answer  where  He  sat 

Upon  the  gangway,  o'er  the  dashing  surge : — 

"  How  comes  it  thou  wouldst  visit,  my  dear  friend, 

The  sea-hills,  boundaries  of  the  ocean-streams, 

To  seek  a  vessel  by  the  cold  sea-cliffs  310 

All  penniless  ?     Hast  thou  no  store  of  bread 

To  comfort  thee  upon  the  ocean-road, 

Or  pure  drink  for  thy  thirst  ?    The  life  is  hard 

For  him  who  journeys  far  upon  the  flood." 


In  answer  then  did  Andrew,  wise  in  wit, 
Unlock  to  him  the  treasure  of  his  words  :— 
"  It  is  not  seemly  that  with  arrogance 
And  words  of  taunting  thou  demand  reply, 
When  God  hath  given  thee  abundant  wealth 
And  worldly  fortune  ;  better  for  each  man 
That  with  humility  he  kindly  greet 
A  traveler  bound  to  other  lands  far  off, 
As  Christ  commanded,  Lord  most  glorious. 
We  are  His  thanes,  chosen  as  champions  ; 
He  is  the  King  by  right,  Author  and  Lord 
Of  wondrous  glory,  one  eternal  God 
Of  all  created  things  ;  by  His  sole  might 
He  comprehendeth  all  the  heavens  and  earth 
With  holy  strength,  Giver  of  victory. 
He  spake  the  word  himself,  and  bade  us  fare 
Throughout  the  spacious  earth,  converting  souls : — 
'  Go  now  to  all  the  corners  of  the  earth, 
Far  as  the  waters  compass  it  about, 
Far  as  the  meadows  lie  along  the  roads, 
And  preach  the  glorious  Faith  throughout  the  towns 

ii 


320 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Upon  earth's  bosom  ;  I  am  your  defense. 

No  gold  nor  silver  treasures  need  ye  bear 

Upon  this  journey.     I  will  freely  give 

All  things  that  ye  may  need.'     Lo,  thou  thyself 

Mayst  hear  the  story  of  our  journeying  340 

With  thoughtful  mind.     Right  quickly  shall  I  learn 

What  kindness  thou  wilt  show  us  on  our  way." 

The  Lord  eternal  answered  him  again  :— 
"  If  ye  are  thanes  of  Him  who  did  exalt 
His  glory  o'er  the  world,  as  ye  declare, 
And  ye  have  kept  the  Holy  One's  commands, 
I'll  gladly  bear  you  o'er  the  ocean- streams, 
As  ye  do  beg  me." 

Then  upon  the  bark 

They  went,  bold,  valiant  men  ;  the  heart  of  each          350 
Was  filled  with  joy  upon  the  tossing  main. 
Then  Andrew,  on  the  rolling  of  the  waves, 
Begged  for  that  seaman  mercy  from  the  King 
Who  rules  in  glory;  thus  he  spake  in  words : — 
"  May  God,  the  Lord  of  men,  give  unto  thee 
Exceeding  honor — happiness  on  earth, 
Riches  in  glory — since  thou  hast  made  known 
N-^      Thy  goodness  to  me  on  my  journeying !" 
He  sat  him  by  the  Guardian  of  the  sea, 
That  noble  saint  beside  his  noble  Lord. 
I  never  heard  men  tell  of  comelier  ship  360 

Laden  with  sumptuous  treasures.     In  it  sat 
Great  heroes,  glorious  lords,  and  beauteous  thanes. 
Then  spake  the  ever-living  noble  Lord, 
Almighty  King  ;  he  bade  his  angel  go, 
His  glorious  retainer,  go  and  give 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Meat  to  the  desolate  to  comfort  him 

Upon  the  seething  flood,  that  he  might  bear 

The  life  upon  the  rushing  of  the  waves 

With  greater  ease.    Then  was  the  ocean1  stirred 

And  deeply  troubled,  then  the  horn-fish  played,          370 

Shot  through  the  raging  deep  ;  the  sea-gull  gray, 

Greedy  for  slaughter,  flew  in  circling  flight. 

The  candle  of  the  sky  grew  straightway  dark, 

The  winds  waxed  strong,  the  waves  whirled,  and  the  surge 

Leapt  high,  the  ropes  creaked,  dripping  with  the  waves; 

The  Terror  of  the  waters  rose,  and  stood 

Above  them  with  the  might  of  multitudes. 

The  thanes  were  sore  afraid,  not  one  of  them 

Dared  hope  that  he  would  ever  reach  the  land, 

Of  those  who  by  the  sea  had  sought  a  ship 

With  Andrew,  for  as  yet  they  did  not  know  380 

Who  pointed  out  the  course  for  that  sea-bark. 

When  he  had  eaten,  then  the  faithful  thane, 
Saint  Andrew,  thanked  the  noble  Counselor, 
Upon  the  ocean,  on  thev  oar-swept  sea  :— 
"  For  this  repast  may  God,  the  righteous  Lord, 
Ruler  of  hosts,  who  sheds  the  light  of  life, 
Grant  thee  reward,  and  give  thee  for  thy  food 
The  bread  of  heaven,  e'en  as  thou  hast  shown 
Good  will  and  kindness  to  me  on  the  deep.  390 

My  thanes,  these  warriors  young,  are  sore  afraid  ; 
Loud  roars  the  raging,  overwhelming  sea; 
The  ocean  is  all  troubled,  deeply  moved ; 
And  weary  is  my  band,  my  company 
Of  valiant-hearted  men,  afflicted  sore." 
The  Lord  of  men  gave  answer  from  the  helm : — 
»Lit.  "whale-iea." 

13 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

"  Our  ship  shall  bear  us  back  across  the  flood 

Unto  the  land,  and  there  thy  men  can  wait 

Upon  the  shore  until  thou  come  again."  400 

Straightway  those  men  gave  answer  unto  him, 

Thanes  much-enduring  ;  they  would  not  consent 

To  leave  alone  upon  the  vessel's  prow 

Their  master  dear,  and  choose  themselves  the  land. 

"  O  whither  shall  we  turn  us,  lordless  men, 

Mourning  in  heart,  forsaken  quite  by  God, 

Wounded  with  sin,  if  we  abandon  thee? 

We  shall  be  odious  in  every  land, 

Hated  of  every  folk,  when  sons  of  men, 

Courageous  warriors,  in  council  sit  410 

And  question  which  of  them  did  best  stand  by 

His  lord  in  battle,  when  the  hand  and  shield, 

Worn  out  by  broadswords  on  the  battle-plain, 

Suffered  sore  danger  in  the  sport  of  war." 

Then  spake  the  noble  Lord,  the  faithful  King  ; 
Straightway  He  lifted  up  His  voice  and  said  : — 
"  If,  as  thou  sayst,  thou  art  indeed  a  thane 
Of  Him  who  sits  enthroned  in  majesty, 
All-glorious  King,  expound  His  mysteries, 
How  'neath  the  sky  He  taught  speech-uttering  men.  420 
Long  is  this  journey  o'er  the  fallow  flood  ; 
Comfort  the  hearts  of  thy  disciples  ;  great 
Is  yet  our  way  across  the  ocean-stream, 
And  land  is  far  to  seek;  the  sea  is  stirred, 
The  waves  beat  on  the  shore.     Yet  easily 
Can  God  give  aid  to  men  who  sail  the  deep." 


Then  Andrew  wisely  stablished  by  his  words 
His  followers,  those  heroes  glorious  : — 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

"  Ye  did  consider  when  ye  put  to  sea 

That  ye  would  bear  your  life  unto  a  folk  430 

Of  foemen  ;  ye  would  suffer  death  for  love 

Of  God,  would  give  your  life  within  the  realm 

Of  dark-skinned  Ethiopians.     I  know 

Myself  that  there  is  One  who  shieldeth  us, 

The  Maker  of  the  angels,  Lord  of  hosts. 

Rebuked  and  bridled  by  the  King  of  might, 

The  Terror  of  the  waters  shall  grow  calm, 

The  leaping  sea.     So  once  in  days  of  yore 

Within  a  bark  upon  the  struggling  waves 

We  tried  the  waters,  riding  on  the  surge, 

And  very  fearful  seemed  the  sad  sea-roads.  440 

The  ocean-floods  beat  fierce  against  the  shores  ; 

Oft  wave  would  answer  wave  ;  and  whiles  upstood 

From  out  the  ocean's  bosom,  o'er  our  ship, 

A  Terror  on  the  breast  of  our  sea-boat. 

There  on  that  ocean-courser  bode  His  time 

The  glorious  God,  Creator  of  mankind, 

Almighty  One.     The  men  were  filled  with  fear, 

They  sought  protection,  mercy  from  the  Lord. 

And  when  that  company  began  to  call, 

The  King  straightway  arose,  and  stilled  the  waves,     450 

The  seething  of  the  waters — He  who  gives 

Bliss  to  the  angels ;  He  rebuked  the  winds  ; 

The  sea  subsided,  and  the  boundaries 

Of  ocean-stream  grew  calm.     Then  laughed  our  soul, 

When  under  heaven's  course  our  eyes  beheld 

The  winds  and  waves  and  Terror  of  the  deep 

Affrighted  by  the  Terror  of  the  Lord. 

Therefore  I  say  to  you  in  very  sooth, 

The  ever-living  God  does  not  forsake 

A  man  on  earth,  if  courage  fail  him  not."  460 

15 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Thus  spake  the  holy  champion,  wise  of  heart, 
He  taught  his  thanes,  that  blessed  warrior ; 
He  stablished  his  men,  till  suddenly 
Sleep  came  upon  them  weary  by  the  mast. 
The  sea  grew  still,  the  onset  of  the  waves 
Turned  back  again,  rough  tumult  of  the  flood. 
Then  was  the  soul  of  that  brave  saint  rejoiced, 
After  that  time  of  terror  ;  wise  in  wit, 
In  counsel  prudent,  he  began  to  speak 
And  thus  unlocked  the  treasure  of  his  words  : —          470 
"  I  never  found  a  better  mariner, 
More  skilled  than  thou  in  sea-craft,  as  I  think, 
A  stouter  oarsman,  one  more  wise  in  words, 
Sager  in  counsel.     I  will  beg  of  thee 
Yet  one  more  boon,  hero  most  excellent ; 
Though  little  treasure  I  can  give  to  thee, 
Jewels  or  beaten  gold,  I  fain  would  win 
Thy  friendship,  if  I  might,  most  glorious  lord. 
So  shalt  thou  gain  good  gifts,  and  blessed  joy  480 

In  heavenly  glory,  if  of  thy  great  lore 
Thou'rt  bountiful  to  weary  voyagers. 
One  art  I  fain  would  learn  of  thee,  brave  sir  ; 
That  since  the  Lord,  the  Maker  of  mankind, 
Hath  given  might  and  honor  unto  thee, 
Thou  shouldst  instruct  me  how  thou  pointest  out 
The  course  of  this  thy  billow-riding  ship, 
Thy  sea-horse  wet  with  spray.     Though  sixteen  times, 
[n  former  days  and  late,  I've  been  to  sea,  490 

And  rowed  with  freezing  hands  upon  the  deep, 
The  ocean-streams — this  makes  one  voyage  more — 
Yet  even  so  mine  eyes  have  ne'er  beheld 
A  mighty  captain  steering  at  the  stern 
Like  unto  thee.     Loud  roars  the  surging  flood, 

16 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Beats  on  the  shore;  this  sea-boat  is  full  fleet; 

It  fareth  foamy-necked  most  like  a  bird, 

And  glides  upon  the  deep.     I  surely  know, 

I  never  saw  upon  the  ocean-road 

Such  wondrous  skill  in  any  seafarer.  500 

It  is  as  though  the  ship  were  on  the  land, 

Where  neither  storm  nor  wind  can  make  it  move, 

Nor  water-floods  can  break  it,  lofty-prowed  ; 

Yet  on  the  sea  it  hasteth  under  sail. 

And  thou  art  young,  defense  of  warriors, 

Not  old  in  winters,  rider  of  the  surge  ; 

Yet  in  thy  heart  thou  hast  the  noble  speech 

Of  princes,  and  dost  wisely  understand 

All  words  employed  by  men  upon  the  earth." 

Him  answered  then  the  everlasting  Lord  : —  510 

"  Full  oft  it  happens  when  we  sail  the  sea 
That  with  our  ships,  our  ocean-coursing  steeds, 
We  break  our  way  across  the  watery  roads ' — 
We  and  our  seamen — when  the  tempest  comes, 
And  many  times  we  suffer  sore  distress 
Upon  the  waves,  though  sailing  bravely  on 
We  end  our  journey  ;  for  the  seething  flood 
Can  hinder  no  man  'gainst  the  Maker's  will. 
The  power  of  life  He  holds — He  who  doth  bind 
The  billows,  and  doth  threaten  and  rebuke 
The  dusky  waves.     With  justice  He  shall  rule  520 

The  nations — He  who  raised  the  firmament, 
And  made  it  fast  with  His  own  hands ;  who  wrought 
And  did  uphold ;  and  with  His  glory  filled 
Bright  Paradise — so  was  the  angels'  home 
Made  blessed  by  His  sole  eternal  might. 
1  Lit.  "bath-road." 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

The  truth  is  manifest  and  clear  to  all, 

That  thou  art  thane  most  excellent  of  Him, 

The  King  who  sits  enthroned  in  majesty  ; 

Because  the  swelling  ocean  knew  thee  straight, 

The  circuit  of  the  raging  ocean  knew 

That  thou  didst  have  the  Holy  Spirit's  gifts.  530 

The  sea,  the  mingling  waves,  turned  back  again  ; 

Still  grew  the  Terror,  the  wide-bosomed  flood  ; 

The  waves  subsided  straightway  when  they  saw 

That  God  had  girt  thee  with  His  covenant, 

He  who  did  stablish  by  His  own  strong  might 

The  blessedness  of  glory  without  end." 

Then  spake  with  holy  voice  the  champion 
Valiant  of  heart ;  he  magnified  the  King 
Who  rules  in  glory,  speaking  thus  in  words  : — 
"  Blest  art  Thou,  King  of  men,  Redeeming  Lord  ;       540 
Thy  power  endureth   ever  ;  near  and  far 
Thy  name  is  holy,  bright  with  majesty, 
Renowned  in  mercy  'mong  the  tribes  of  men. 
There  lives  no  man  beneath  the  vault  of  heaven, 
Ruler  of  nations,  Savior  of  men's  souls, 
No  one  of  mortal  race,  who  can  declare 
How  gloriously  Thou  dealest  Thy  good  gifts, 
Or  tell  their  number.     It  is  manifest 
That  Thou  has  been  most  gracious  to  this  youth,         550 
And  hast  adorned  him  with  Thy  holy  grace, 
Young  as  he  is  ;  for  he  is  wise  in  wit 
And  in  discourse  of  words.     I  never  found 
A  mind  more  prudent  in  a  man  so  young." 

The  Glory  of  kings,  the  Source  and  End  of  all, 
Gave  answer  from  the  ship  and  boldly  asked  : — 

18 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

"  Tell,  if  them  canst,  O  prudent-minded  thane, 

How  on  the  earth  it  ever  came  to  pass 

That  faithless  men,  the  nation  of  the  Jews, 

Raised  blasphemy  against  the  Son  of  God  560 

With  hearts  of  wickedness.     Unhappy  men, 

Cruel,  malicious,  they  did  not  believe 

In  Him  who  gave  them  life,  that  He  was  God, 

Though  many  miracles  among  the  tribes 

He  showed  full  clear  and  manifest  ;  but  they, 

Guilt-laden  men,  knew  not  the  Royal  Child, 

Him  that  was  born  a  comfort  and  defense 

Unto  mankind,  to  all  who  dwell  on  earth. 

In  wisdom  and  in  power  of  speech  increased 

The  noble  Prince  ;  and  aye  the  Lord  of  might  570 

Showed  forth  his  wonders  to  that  stubborn  folk." 

Straightway  did  Andrew  answer  him  again : — 
"  How  could  it  happen  'mong  the  tribes  of  men 
That  thou,  my  friend,  hast  never  heard  men  tell 
The  Savior's  power,  how  He  made  known  His  grace 
Throughout  the  world — Son  of  the  Mighty  One. 
Speech  gave  He  to  the  dumb  ;  the  deaf  did  hear  ; 
The  halt  and  lepers  He  made  glad  in  heart, 
Those  who  long  time  had  suffered,  sick  of  limb, 
Weary  and  weak,  fast  bound  in  misery.  580 

Throughout  the  towns  the  blind  received  their  sight, 
Full  many  men  upon  the  plains  of  earth 
He  woke  from  death  by  His  almighty  word  ; 
And  many  another  miracle  He  showed, 
Royally  famous,  by  His  mighty  strength. 
Water  He  blessed  before  the  multitude, 
And  bade  it  turn  to  wine,  a  better  kind, 
For  happiness  of  men.     Likewise  He  fed 

19 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Five  thousand  of  mankind  with  fishes  twain  590 

And  with  five  loaves  ;  the  companies  sat  down 

With  hearts  fatigued,  rejoicing  in  their  rest, 

All  weary  after  wandering  ;  on  the  ground 

Where  pleased  them  best  the  men  received  their  food. 

Lo,  thou  mayst  hear,  good  sir,  how,  while  He  lived, 

The  Lord  of  glory  by  His  words  and  deeds 

Showed  love  to  us-ward,  led  us  by  His  lore 

To  that  fair  home  of  joy  where  men  may  dwell 

Freely  with  angels  in  high  blessedness — 

Even  they  who  after  death  go  to  the  Lord."  600 

Agaia  the  Ruler  of  the  waves  unlocked 
The  treasure  of  His  words,  and  boldly  spake  : — 
"That  I  may  truly  know,  I  pray  thee  tell 
Whether  thy  Lord  showed  forth  His  miracles — 
Which  on  the  earth  for  comfort  of  mankind 
Full  many  times  He  worked — before  men's  sight, 
Where  bishops,  scribes,  and  princes  held  discourse 
Sitting  in  council.     For  it  seems  to  me 
That  out  of  envy  they  contrived  this  guile,  610 

Led  by  deep  error  and  the  Devil's  lore  ; 
Those  men  foredoomed  to  death  too  readily 
Gave  ear  to  wicked  traitors  ;  their  ill  fate 
Deceived,  misled  them,  gave  them  counsel  false  ; 
Weary  'mong  weary  men  they  soon  must  bear 
Torments  and  biting  flames  in  Satan's  arms." 

Straightway  did  Andrew  answer  him  again  : — 
"  I  tell  thee  truly  that  He  ofttimes  worked 
Wonder  on  wonder  in  the  sight  of  men,  620 

Before  their  rulers  ;  and  in  secret  too 
The  Lord  of  men  did  deeds  of  public  good, 
Which  he  devised  for  their  eternal  peace." 

20 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Him  answered  then  the  sure  Defense  of  kings  : — 
"  Couldst  thou,  wise  hero,  warrior  strong  of  heart, 
Tell  me  in  words  the  wonders  that  He  showed 
In  secret,  when,  as  oft,  ye  sat  alone 
In  converse  with  the  Lord  who  rules  the  skies  ?" 

Straightway  did  Andrew  answer  him  again  — 
"  Why  dost  thou  question  me  with  crafty  speech, 
My  dearest  lord,  thou  who  dost  truly  know  630 

By  virtue  of  thy  wisdom  every  hap." 

The  Ruler  of  the  waves  replied  to  him  : — 
"  'Tis  not  in  blame  that  I  thus  question  thee, 
Nor  to  insult  thee  on  the  ocean-road.1 
My  mind  is  blithe  and  blossoming  with  joy 
At  thy  most  noble  speech  ;  not  I  am  blithe 
Alone,  for  every  man  is  glad  in  heart 
And  comforted  in  soul  who  far  or  near 
Remembers  in  his  heart  what  that  One  did, 
God's  Son  on  earth.     Souls  unto  Him  were  turned  ;  640 
With  eagerness  they  sought  the  joys  of  heaven, 
The  angels'  home,  by  aid  of  His  great  might." 

Straightway  did  Andrew  answer  Him  again  : — 
"  In  thee  I  see  an  understanding  heart 
Of  wondrous  power,  the  gift  of  victory  ; 
With  wisdom  blooms  thy  breast,  with  brightest  joy. 
Lo,  I  will  tell  to  thee  from  first  to  last 
The  words  and  wisdom  of  the  noble  Lord,  650 

As  I  have  heard  it  oft  from  His  own  mouth 
When  He  conversed  with  men  upon  the  earth. 
Oft  did  great  multitudes,  unnumbered  throngs, 
1  Lit.  "  whale-road." 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

i  Assemble  to  the  council  of  the  Lord, 

And  hear  the  teachings  of  the  Holy  One. 
The  Shield  of  kings,  bright  Giver  of  all  bliss, 
Went  to  another  house,  where  many  men, 
Wise  elders,  came  to  meet  Him,  praising  God  ; 
And  ever  men  were  joyful,  glad  of  heart, 
At  the  Lord's  coming. 

Likewise  it  befell  660 

That  once  of  yore  the  Lord  of  victory, 
The  mighty  King,  went  on  a  pilgrimage ; 
Eleven  glorious  champions  alone 
Of  His  own  people  on  that  journey  went ; 
He  was  Himself  the  twelfth.     When  we  were  come 
Unto  the  kingly  city  where  was  built 
The  temple  of  the  Lord  with  pinnacles 
High  towering,  famous  'mong  the  tribes  of  men, 
Beauteous  in  splendor — with  reviling  words 
The  high  priest  straight  began  to  mock  at  Him  670 

Insultingly,  from  out  his  wicked  heart ; 
He  oped  his  inmost  thoughts  and  mischief  wove  ; 
For  in  his  heart  he  knew  we  followed  aye 
The  footsteps  of  our  ever-righteous  Lord, 
His  teachings  we  performed  ;  straightway  he  raised 
His  baneful  voice  infect  with  wickedness  : — 
*  Lo,  ye  are  wretched  more  than  all  mankind  ; 
Ye  go  upon  wide  wanderings,  and  ye  fare 
On  many  toilsome  journeys  ;  ye  give  ear 
Unto  a  stranger's  teachings  'gainst  our  law  ; 
A  prince  without  a  portion  ye  proclaim  ;  680 

Ye  say,  in  sooth,  that  with  the  Son  of  God 
Ye  daily  converse  hold  !     The  rulers  know 
From  what  beginning  his  high  race  is  sprung. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

In  this  land  he  was  nourished,  and  was  born 

A  child  among  his  kindred  ;  at  their  home 

Thus  are  his  father  and  his  mother  called — 

As  we  have  learned  by  prudent  questioning — 

Mary  and  Joseph  ;  other  children  twain 

Were  born  his  brothers  in  that  family,  690 

Simon  and  Jacob — Joseph's  sons  they  are.' 

So  spake  the  counsellors  of  men,  the  lords 

Ambitious,  and  they  thought  to  hide  the  might 

Of  God  ;  their  sin  returned  to  them  again 

From  whom  it  rose,  an  everlasting  bane. 

Then  did  the  Prince,  the  Lord  of  hosts,  depart 
With  all  His  thanes  from  out  the  council-hall, 
Strong  in  His  might,  to  seek  an  unknown  land. 
By  wonders  manifold  and  mighty  deeds 
In  deserts  wild  He  showed  that  He  was  King  700 

By  right  throughout  the  world,  made  strong  with  power, 
Ruler  and  Author  of  bright  majesty, 
Eternal  God  of  all  created  things. 
Likewise  He  showed  before  the  sight  of  men 
Unnumbered  other  works  miraculous. 

Upon  another  journey  then  He  went 
With  a  vast  throng,  and  in  the  temple  stood, 
The  glorious  Prince.     The  sound  of  words  arose 
Within  the  lofty  building  ;  sinful  men 
Would  not  receive  the  holy  Savior's  words, 
Though  He  had  shown  so  many  tokens  true  710 

While  they  looked  on.     Upon  the  temple  wall 
On  either  side  the  Lord  victorious  saw 
An  image  of  His  angels  wondrous  carved, 
Brightly  adorned  and  beautifully  wrought ; 

23 


y 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Then  to  the  multitude  he  spake  in  words  :— 

'  This  is  the  likeness  of  the  angel-race 

Most  widely  known  to  dwellers  in  this  town. 

In  Paradise  their  names  are  Cherubim  720 

And  Seraphim  ;  before  the  face  of  God 

They  stand,  strong-souled,  and  with  their  voices  praise 

In  holy  song  the  might  of  Heaven's  King, 

And  God's  protecting  hand.     Here  is  carved  out 

The  holy  angels'  form  ;  the  thanes  of  glory 

Are  chiseled  on  the  wall  by  handicraft.' 

The  Lord  of  hosts,  the  Holy  Spirit  of  heaven, 
Spake  yet  again  unto  the  multitude  : — 
*  Now  I  command  a  sign  to  be  disclosed, 
A  miracle  before  the  throng  of  men,  730 

That  from  the  wall  this  image  shall  descend 
All  beautiful  to  earth,  and  speak  a  word, 
Shall  tell  them  truly  of  My  parentage, 
That  men  throughout  the  land  may  then  believe  ! ' 

The  ancient  image  durst  not  disobey 
The  Savior's  words,  but  leapt  from  off  the  wall, 
Stone  cleft  from  stone  ;  upon  the  earth  it  stood, 
A  wonder  in  the  sight  of  all  the  throng  ; 
Then  came  a  voice  loud  sounding  from  the  stone,        740 
Rebuking  them  in  words  ;  and  wondrous  seemed 
The  statue's  speech  to  those  proud-hearted  men. 
With  tokens  manifest  it  taught  the  priests, 
Warned  them  with  wisdom  ;  thus  it  spake  in  words  : — 
'Accursed  are  ye  and  wretched  in  your  thoughts, 
Deceived  with  tricks,  or  else  with  clouded  mind 
No  better  do  ye  know.     Ye  call  God's  Son 
Eternal  but  a  man — Him  who  marked  out 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

With  His  own  hands  the  sea  and  solid  ground, 

Both  heaven  and  earth,  the  stormy  ocean-waves, 

The  salt  sea-streams,  and  the  high  firmament.  750 

He  is  that  self-same  God  all-powerful 

Whom  in  the  early  days  your  fathers  knew  ; 

To  Abraham,  to  Isaac,  and  to  Jacob 

He  gave  His  grace,  and  honored  them  with  wealth  ; 

To  Abraham  He  first  declared  in  words 

The  covenant  of  his  race,  that  of  his  seed 

The  God  of  glory  should  be  born  ;  this  fate 

Is  now  fulfilled  among  you,  manifest ; 

And  lo  !  your  eyes  can  now  behold  the  God 

Of  victory,  who  rules  the  heavens  on  high.'  760 

After  these  words  the  crowd  stood  listening  ; 
All  silent  were  they  through  the  spacious  hall. 
The  elders  then  began  again  to  say, 
Those  sinful  men — the  truth  they  did  not  know  ! — 
That  it  was  magic  art  and  sorcery 
That  made  the  shining  stone  to  talk  to  men. 
Evil  was  blossoming  in  their  hearts,  and  hate 
Welled  hot  as  fire  within  their  wicked  breasts, 
A  serpent,  foe  to  joy,  a  poison  dire  ;  770 

And  by  their  words  of  mocking  were  revealed 
Their  doubting  hearts  and  thoughts  of  wickedness, 
With  murder  girt  about.     Then  did  the  Lord 
Command  the  stone,  that  mighty  work,  to  go 
Along  the  way,  from  out  the  open  place, 
To  tread  the  paths  of  earth,  the  meadows  green, 
To  bear  God's  message  into  Canaan  land, 
And  in  God's  name  command  that  Abraham 
And  his  descendants  twain  should  rise  again 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

From  out  their  sepulchre,  and  leave  their  place  780 

Of  rest  beneath  the  earth,  take  up  their  limbs, 

Receive  a  soul  again  and  youth's  estate  ; 

That  those  wise  patriarchs  should  come  once  more 

Among  mankind,  to  tell  the  folk  what  God 

It  was  that  they  had  known  by  His  own  might. 

It  went  and  journeyed  on  the  border-paths 
As  mighty  God,  Creator  of  mankind, 
Commanded  it,  until  it  came  to  Mamre 
All  dazzling  bright,  as  God  had  bidden  it. 
There  had  the  bodies  of  those  patriarchs  790 

Long  time  lain  hid.     It  bade  them  straight  arise 
From  out  the  earth,  those  princes,  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  leaving  their  deep  sleep 
To  meet  their  God  ;  it  bade  them  to  prepare 
To  come  before  the  presence  of  the  Lord  ; 
For  they  must  tell  the  folk  Who  at  the  first 
Brought  forth  this  earth  all-green,  and  heaven  above, 
And  where  that  Ruler  was  who  stablished  firm 
All  that  great  work.     They  durst  not  long  delay 
Fulfilment  of  the  glorious  King's  command.  800 

So  went  those  prophets  three,  those  valiant  men, 
And  trod  the  earth ;  they  let  their  sepulchres 
Stand  open,  for  they  would  straightway  proclaim 
The  Father  of  creation.     Then  the  folk 
With  fear  was  stricken,  when  those  Princes  old 
Honored  the  King  of  glory  with  their  words. 
The  Lord  of  might  bade  them  forthwith  return 
To  blessedness,  to  seek  a  second  time 
The  happiness  of  heaven  in  holy  peace, 
And  there  to  live  in  bliss  for  evermore.  810 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Lo,  thou  mayst  hear,  dear  youth,  how  He  performed 
By  His  commands  full  many  miracles  ; 
Yet  even  so  those  people  blind  of  heart 
Did  not  believe  His  teachings.     I  could  tell 
Many  more  deeds  which  He,  the  Prince  of  heaven, 
Wrought  on  the  earth — a  great  and  famous  tale : 
Such  deeds  as  thou  couldst  never  understand, 
Nor  comprehend  in  heart,  though  thou  art  wise."          Xjx- 
Thus  Andrew  all  day  long  showed  forth  the  lore 
Of  holy  Jesus  in  his  words,  until 
A  sleep  came  sudden  o'er  him  as  he  sailed 
Upon  the  whale's  road  nigh  to  Heaven's  King. 

The  Lord  of  life  then  bade  His  angels  bear 
That  saint  beloved  over  the  beating  waves, 
And  gently  carry  him  upon  their  breasts 
Under  the  Father's  care  across  the  floods, 
While  sleep  was  on  him  weary  of  the  sea. 
So  journeying  through  the  air  he  reached  the  land 
And  came  unto  the  city,  which  the  King 
Of  angels  bade  him  seek  ;  the  messengers 
Departed  joyful  to  their  home  on  high.  830 

They  left  the  holy  man,  that  gracious  saint, 
Beside  the  highway,  'neath  the  vault  of  heaven, 
Peacefully  sleeping  near  the  city  wall 
And  near  his  foes  malignant  all  night  long, 
'Till  God  sent  forth  the  candle  of  the  day 
Brightly  to  shine.     Vanished  the  shadows  dark 
Beneath  the  welkin  ;  then  the  torch  of  heaven, 
The  clear  light  of  the  sky,  came  forth  and  shone 
Above  the  town.     The  warrior  brave  awoke 
And  gazed  upon  the  fields  ;  before  the  gates  840 

Steep  hills  high  towered  ;  about  the  hoary  cliff 

27 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Stood  buildings  wrought  of  many-colored  tiles, 

Great  towers,  and  wind-swept  walls.     The  sage  straight 

knew 

That  he  had  reached  the  Mermedonian  land, 
E'en  as  the  Father  of  mankind  declared, 
When  He  prescribed  that  journey.     On  the  ground 
He  saw  his  own  disciples,  valiant  men, 
Beside  him  deep  in  sleep.     He  straight  began 
To  wake  the  warriors  ;  thus  he  spake  in  words  :—      850 
"  Lo,  I  can  tell  you  one  truth  manifest, 
That  yesterday  upon  the  ocean-stream 
A  noble  Hero  bore  us  o'er  the  sea. 
The  Glory  of  kings,  the  Ruler  of  mankind, 
Was  sailing  in  that  ship  ;  I  knew  His  words, 
Though  He  did  hide  the  beauty  of  His  face." 

His  noble  followers  answered  him  again, 
Giving  reply  from  out  their  inmost  souls  : — 
"  Our  journey,  Andrew,  will  we  tell  to  thee, 
That  wisely  thou  mayst  understand  in  heart : —  860 

A  sleep  came  o'er  us  weary  of  the  sea, 
And  eagles  came  across  the  struggling  waves 
In  flight,  exulting  in  their  mighty  wings, 
And  while  we  slept  they  took  our  souls  away  ; 
With  joy  they  bore  us  flying  through  the  air, 
Gracious  and  bright,  rejoicing  in  their  speed; 
And  gently  they  caressed  us,  while  they  hymned 
Continual  praise  ;  there  was  unceasing  song 
Throughout  the  sky;  a  beauteous  host  was  there,         870 
A  glorious  multitude.     The  angels  stood 
About  the  Prince,  the  thanes  about  their  Lord, 
In  thousands ;  in  the  highest  they  gave  praise 
With  holy  voice  unto  the  Lord  of  lords  ; 

28 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

The  angel-band  rejoiced.     We  there  beheld 

The  holy  patriarchs  and  a  mighty  troop 

Of  martyrs  ;  to  the  Lord  victorious 

That  righteous  throng  sang  never-ending  praise  ; 

And  David  too  was  with  them,  Jesse's  son, 

The  King  of  Israel,  blessed  warrior,  880 

Come  to  Christ's  throne.     Likewise  we  saw  you  twelve 

All  standing  there  before  the  Son  of  God, 

Full  glorious  men  of  great  nobility  ; 

Archangels  holy  throned  in  majesty 

Did  serve  you  ;  happy  is  it  for  the  man 

Who  may  enjoy  that  bliss.     High  joy  was  there, 

Glory  of  warriors,  an  exalted  life  ; 

Nor  was  there  sorrow  there  for  any  man. 

Drear  exile,  open  torment  is  the  lot 

Of  him  who  must  be  stranger  to  those  joys,  890 

And  wander  wretched  when  he  goes  from  hence." 

Exceeding  glad  was  holy  Andrew's  heart 
Within  his  breast,  soon  as  he  heard  the  speech 
Of  his  disciples,  that  above  all  men 
God  should  so  high  esteem  them,  and  this  word 
Spake  then  the  brave  defense  of  warriors  : — 
"  Lo,  now  I  clearly  see,  Lord  God,  that  Thou, 
Glory  of  kings,  wast  very  nigh  to  me  -^  0   ,i» 

On  the  ocean-road,  when  on  that  ship  I  went ;  f^^^ 

Though  on  the  beating  sea  I  did  not  know  900      T  / 

The  Lord  of  angels,  Savior  of  men's  souls ! 
Be  gracious  unto  me,  Almighty  God, 
Bright  King  of  mercy  !  on  the  ocean-stream 
1  many  words  I  spake  ;  but  now  I  know 


Who  bore  me  o'er  the  sea-floods  on  His  ship 
With  honor  high  ;  He  is  for  all  mankind 


29 


A 


/-M 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

A  Spirit  of  comfort  ;  there  is  ready  help, 
And  mercy  from  the  Highest  unto  all 
Who  seek  of  Him—  the  gift  of  victory." 

Straightway  before  his  eyes  the  Lord  appeared,        910 
The  Prince  of  glory,  King  of  all  that  lives, 
Like  to  a  youth  in  form,  and   thus  he  spake  :  — 
"  Hail  to  thee,  Andrew,  and  thy  faithful  band  ; 
Rejoice  in  heart,  for  I  am  thy  defense, 
That  wicked  foes  may  never  harm  thy  soul, 
Fierce-hearted  workers  of  iniquity." 

Then  fell  to  earth  that  hero  wise  in  words, 
Begging  protection,  and  he  asked  his  Lord  :  — 
"  How  did  it  happen,  Ruler  of  mankind,  920 

That,  sinning  'gainst  the  Savior  of  men's  souls, 
I  knew  Thee  not  upon  the  ocean-way 
Good  as  Thou  art  ?  there  spake  I  many  words, 

ore  than  I  should  in  presence  of  my  God." 


Him  answered  straightway  God  all-powerful  :  — 
"  Thou  didst  not  sin  so  grievously  as  when 
Thou  madest  protest  in  Achaian  land 
That  on  far  journeyings  thou  couldst  not  go, 
Nor  come  unto  the  town,  accomplishing 
Thy  way  within  three  days,  the  time  ordained,  930 

o'er  the  struggling  waves  I  bade  thee  fare. 
Thou  knowest  better  now  that  easily 
I  can  advance  and  further  any  man 
Who  is  My  friend  whithersoe'er  I  will. 
Quickly  arise,  and  straightway  learn  My  will, 
Man  highly  blessed  ;  so  shall  the  Father  bright 
Adorn  thee  with  His  wondrous  gifts,  with  strength 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

And  wisdom  unto  all  eternity  ! 

Go  thou  into  the  town,  within  the  walls, 

Where  bides  thy  brother  ;  for  I  know  full  well  940 

Matthew  thy  kinsman  is  afflicted  sore 

With  deadly  wounds  at  wicked  traitors'  hands, 

Beset  with  cunning  snares.     Him  shalt  thou  seek 

And  loose  from  hate  of  foes,  with  all  that  band 

Who  dwell  with  him  in  strangers'  cruel  chains 

Balefully  bound.     Forthwith  he  shall  receive 

In  this  world  recompense,  and  high  reward 

In  heaven,  as  I  have  promised  unto  him. 

Now,  Andrew,  thou  shalt  straightway  risk  thy  life      950 

Into  the  foeman's  grasp  ;  for  thee  is  war 

Ordained  with  grievous  sword-blows  ;  with  sore  wounds 

Thy  body  shall  be  rent ;  thy  blood  shall  flow 

In  floods  like  water.     But  those  foes  may  not 

Give  o'er  thy  life  to  death,  though  heavy  strokes, 

The  blows  of  sinful  men,  thou  undergo. 

Endure  that  grief  ;  let  not  the  heathens'  might 

Turn  thee  aside,  nor  bitter  strife  of  spears, 

That  thou  depart  from  God  who  is  thy  Lord. 

Be  eager  aye  for  glory,  bear  in  mind  960 

How  it  was  widely  known  to  many  men, 

Through  many  lands,  that  sinners  mocked  at  Me 

Bound  fast  in  chains,  reviled  Me  with  their  words, 

Struck  Me  and  scourged  Me  ;  with  their  taunting  speech 

Those  sinful  men  could  not  declare  the  truth. 

When  'mong  the  Jews  I  hung  upon  the  cross, 

When  high  the  rood  was  raised,  a  certain  man 

Let  forth  the  blood  from  out  My  wounded  side 

Upon  the  ground.     Full  many  grievous  woes 

I  suffered  on  the  earth ;  I  wished  to  give  970 

A  high  example  to  you  by  My  grace, 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Which  shall  be  known  'mong  men  of  foreign  land. 

Many  there  are  within  this  famous  town 

Whom  thou  shalt  turn  unto  the  light  of  heaven 

In  My  name,  though  they  have  in  days  gone  by 

Accomplished  many  deeds  of  violence." 

The  Holy  One  departed,  King  of  kings, 

In  blessedness  to  seek  the  heavens  above, 

That  purest  home;  there  is  for  every  man 

Glory  enow,  for  those  who  can  attain.  980 

That  much-enduring  man,  brave  for  the  fight, 
Obeyed  God's  word  ;  he  went  into  the  town 
Forthwith,  that  steadfast  warrior,  with  might 
Endowed,  courageous-hearted,  true  to  God ; 
He  walked  along  the  street,  the  path  his  guide, 
In  such  wise  that  no  one  could  him  behold, 
No  sinful  man  could  see,  for  on  the  mead 
The  Lord  victorious  had  covered  him, 
That  chief  beloved,  with  His  protecting  care 
And  His  high  favor.     So  the  noble  saint  990 

Nigh  to  the  prison  pressed  his  way  in  haste, 
The  champion  of  Christ.     He  saw  a  band 
Of  heathens  gathered,  seven  warders  there 
Before  the  gate  ;  death  snatched  them  all  away  ; 
They  perished  powerless  ;  the  fierce  rush  of  death 
Clutched  them  all  bloody.     Then  the  holy  saint 
Prayed  to  the  gracious  Father  in  his  heart ; 
He  praised  on  high  the  goodness  and  the  power 
Of  Heaven's  King.     The  door  forthwith  gave  way 
At  holy  Andrew's  touch  ;  then  entered  in  1000 

The  hero  brave  with  thoughts  of  courage  bold. 
The  heathens  there  were  sleeping  drunk  with  blood  ; 
With  their  own  blood  they  stained  the  field  of  death. 

33 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Matthew  he  saw  within  that  murderous  den, 
The  warrior  stout,  within  the  prison  mirk, 
Singing  the  praise  of  God,  and  worshiping 
The  angels'  King.     Alone  he  sat  in  grief 
In  that  drear  dwelling.     On  this  earth  once  more 
His  brother  dear  he  saw — a  holy  saint 
Beheld  a  holy  saint — and  hope  grew  strong.  1010 

Up  rose  he  quick  to  meet  him,  thanking  God 
That  'neath  the  sun  they  had  at  last  beheld 
Each  other  hale  and  sound.     New  joy  and  love 
Dwelt  with  those  brethren  twain  ;  each  in  his  arms 
Enclosed  the  other  ;  they  embraced  and  kissed. 
Unto  the  heart  of  Christ  both  saints  were  dear. 
A  holy  radiance  bright  as  heaven  above 
Shone  round  about  them,  and  their  hearts  welled  up 
With  joy.     Then  first  did  Andrew  greet  in  words      1020 
His  noble  comrade,  that  God-fearing  man  : 
He  told  him  of  the  battle  that  must  come, 
The  fight  of  hostile  men  : — 


After  these  words  those  brothers  knelt  and  prayed, 
Those  thanes  of  glory,  and  they  sent  their  prayer 
Up  to  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  Matthew  too 
Within  the  prison  called  upon  his  God,  1030 

Sought  from  the  Savior  succor  and  relief 
Before  he  should  be  slain  by  battle-might 
Of  heathen  men.     Then  from  the  prison  strong, 
Freed  from  their  bonds,  protected  by  the  Lord, 
He  led  two  hundred  men  and  forty-eight 
Rescued  from  woe  ;  not  one  he  left  behind 
Within  the  prison-walls  fast  bound  in  chains  ; 

33 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

And  women  too,  besides  this  multitude, 

Fifty  less  one  he  saved,  o'erwhelmed  with  fear.  1040 

Glad  were  they  to  depart,  in  haste  they  went, 

Nor  waited  longer  in  that  house  of  woe 

The  outcome  of  the  struggle.  '  Matthew  went 

Leading  that  multitude,  as  Andrew  bade, 

Under  God's  keeping  ;  on  that  longed-for  way 

He  covered  them  with  clouds,  lest  enemies, 

Their  ancient  foes,  should  come  to  work  them  harm 

With  arrows'  flight ;  there  did  those  valiant  saints 

Take  counsel  with  each  other,  faithful  friends, 

Before  they  parted  ;  each  of  those  brave  men  1050 

Stablished  the  other  with  the  hope  of  heaven  ; 

The  pains  of  hell  they  warded  oil  by  words. 

So  did  the  warriors  with  them,  battle-brave, 

Tried  champions,  with  their  holy  voices  praise 

The  Lord  of  fate,  whose  glory  ne'er  shall  end. 

Glad-hearted,  Andrew  walked  about  the  town 
Unto  the  place  where  he  had  heard  was  met 
A  concourse  of  his  cruel  enemies,  1060 

Until  he  found  beside  the  border-path 
A  brazen  pillar  standing  near  the  road. 
He  sat  him  by  its  side  ;  pure  love  had  he 
And  contemplation  high,  the  angels'  bliss  ; 
There  waited  he,  within  the  city-walls, 
What  deed  of  war  should  be  vouchsafed  to  him. 

Then  gathered  straight  the  leaders  of  the  folk 
Their  mighty  troops  ;  unto  the  prison  strong 
The  faithless  host  of  heathen  warriors 
Came  fully  armed,  where  late  their  captive  thralls     1070 
Had  suffered  woe  within  the  prison  mirk. 

34 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

They  weened  and  wished,  those  stubborn-hearted  foes, 

That  they  might  make  those  foreign  men  their  meat, 

Food  for  the  multitude  ;  their  hope  was  vain, 

For,  coming  with  their  troops,  those  spearmen  fierce 

Found  prison-doors  wide  open,  and  the  work 

Of  hammers  all  unloosed,  the  watchmen  dead. 

So  back  they  turned,  those  luckless  warriors, 

Robbed  of  their  joy,  to  bear  the  tidings  sad  ; 

They  told  the  folk  that  of  the  stranger  men,  1080 

The  men  of  foreign  speech,  not  one  they  found 

Remaining  in  that  prison-house  alive  ; 

But  there  upon  the  ground  all  stained  with  gore, 

Lifeless  the  watchmen  lay,  robbed  of  their  souls, 

Mere  slaughtered  bodies.     At  that  sudden  news 

Dismayed  was  many  a  captain  of  the  host, 

Sad  and  cast  down  at  thoughts  of  famine  stern, 

That  pale  guest  at  the  board.     No  better  way 

They  knew  than  on  the  dead  to  make  their  feast 

For  their  own  sustenance  ;  in  a  single  hour  1090 

The  bed  of  death  was  spread  by  cruel  fate 

For  all  those  watchmen.  v 

Then,  as  I  have  heard, 

A  gathering  of  the  townsmen  was  proclaimed  ; 
The  heroes  came,  a  host  of  warriors 
Riding  on  horses,  brave  men  on  their  steeds 
Exchanging  speech  ;  skilled  were  they  at  the  spear. 
So  in  the  meeting-place  the  people  all  t 

Were  gathered,  and  they  bade  the  lot  decide 
Among  them,  who  should  first  give  up  his  life  noo 

For  food  unto  the  rest ;  they  cast  the  lots 
With  hellish  craft ;  before  their  heathen  gods 
They  counted  them.     Behold,  the  lot  did  fall 

35 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Upon  an  aged  chieftain,  one  who  was 

A  counselor  among  the  noble  lords, 

In  front  rank  of  the  host.     Soon  was  he  bound 

In  fetters  fast,  despairing  of  his  life. 

Then  cried  that  chieftain  fierce  with  voice  of  woe, 
Proclaiming  he  would  give  his  own  young  son 
Into  their  power  as  ransom  for  his  life.  n  10 

With  thankful  hearts  they  took  his  oifering, 
For  greedily  they  lusted  after  food, 
Sad-minded  men  ;  no  joy  had  they  in  wealth, 
Nor  hope  in  hoarded  riches  ;  they  were  sore 
Oppressed  with  hunger,  for  the  famine  dire 
Held  cruel  sway.     Then  many  a  warrior 
And  hero  battle-bold  was  fired  in  heart 
To  struggle  for  the  life  of  that  young  man  ; 
The  sign  of  woe  was  published  far  and  wide 
Throughout  the  town  to  many  a  hero  brave,  1120 

That  they  should  seek  in  troops  the  young  man's  death, 
That,  young  and  old,  they  should  receive  their  share 
As  food  to  keep  their  lives.     The  heathen  priests 
Straightway  collected  there  a  multitude 
Of  dwellers  in  that  town  ;  loud  shouts  arose. 

Bound  there  before  the  throng  the  youth  began 
To  sing  with  mournful  voice  a  song  of  woe  ; 
The  wretched  thrall  begged  succor  of  his  friends  ; 
But  no  relief  nor  mercy  could  he  find 
From  that  fierce  folk  to  give  him  back  his  life.  1130 

Those  monstrous  fiends  had  sought  hostility  ; 
It  was  their  purpose  that  the  sword's  sharp  edge 
Made  hard  by  blows,  and  stained  with  marks  of  fire, 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

In  foeman's  hand  should  take  his  life  away. 

But  Andrew  thought  it  grievous,  hard  to  bear, 

A  public  wrong,  that  one  so  innocent 

Should  forthwith  lose  his  life.     That  people's  hate 

Was  very  fierce  ;  the  warriors,  valiant  thanes  1140 

Lusting  for  murder,  rushed  upon  the  youth  ; 

They  wished  straightway  to  break  his  head  with  spears. 

But  God,  the  Holy  One,  from  heaven  above 

Defended  him  against  the  heathen  throng  ; 

He  bade  their  weapons  melt  away  like  wax 

In  the  fierce  onset,  that  his  bitter  foes 

Should  scathe  him  not  with  might  of  hostile  swords. 

So  from  his  woe  and  from  that  people's  hate 

The  youth  was  loosed.   To  God,  the  Lord  of  lords,      1150 

Be  thanks  for  all,  because  He  giveth  might 

To  every  man  who  wisely  seeketh  aid 

From  Him  on  high !     There  is  eternal  peace 

Ever  prepared  for  those  who  can  attain. 

Then  in  that  town  was  lamentation  heard, 
Loud  outcry  of  the  throng  ;  heralds  proclaimed 
And  mourned  the  lack  of  food  ;  there  stood  they  sad, 
Held  fast  by  hunger  ;  the  high-towering  halls — 
Their  wine-halls — all  were  empty  ;  they  possessed 
No  wealth  to  enjoy  at  that  unhappy  hour.  1160 

The  wise  men  sat  apart  in  council  sad, 
Talked  of  their  woe  ;  no  joy  was  in  their  land. 
Thus  would  one  hero  oft  another  ask  : — 
"  Let  him  who  has  good  counsel  in  his  heart, 
And  wisdom,  hide  it  not !     The  hour  is  come 
Exceeding  woful ;  great  is  now  the  need 
That  we  should  hear  the  words  of  prudent  men." 


37 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Then  to  that  band  the  Devil  straight  appeared 
All  black  and  ugly,  and  he  had  the  form 
Of  one  accursed.     The  Prince  of  death  began,  1170 

The  limping  imp  of  hell,  with  wicked  heart 
To  accuse  the  holy  man ;  this  word  he  spake  : — 
"A  certain  prince  is  come  into  your  town, 
A  stranger  journeying  from  a  distant  land  ; 
Andrew  I  heard  him  called.     He  worked  you  scath 
But  lately,  when  he  led  a  company 
Great  beyond  measure  from  your  prison  strong  ; 
And  now  these  deeds  of  harm  ye  may  with  ease 
Wreak  on  their  author  ;  let  your  weapons'  point,       1180 
Your  hard-edged  iron,  hew  his  body  down, 
Doomed  to  destruction.     Go  now  boldly  forth, 
That  ye  may  overcome  your  foe  in  war." 

Straightway  did  Andrew  answer  him  again  : — 
"Why  dost  thou  impudently  teachrthis  folkA  ~-*{J$  ?V*fcvj(, 
And  urge  them  unto  battle  ?    HasVthwrjfeit 
The  fiery  torment  hot  in  hell,  and  yet 
Leadest  an  army  forth,  a  troop  to  war  ? 
Thou  art  a  foe  to  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts  ; 
Why  dost  thou  thus  heap  up  thy  wretchedness  ? 
Shaft  of  the  devil,  whom  Almighty  God  1190 

Bent  humble  down  and  into  darkness  hurled, 
Where  the  King  of  kings  did  cover  thee  with  chains  ; 
And  they  who  keep  the  covenant  of  God 
Have  called  thee  Satan  ever  since  that  hour." 

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 ! 

38 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

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  shields, 

In  mighty  troops  they  pressed  unto  the  fight. 

Then  spake  the  Lord  of  hosts,  Almighty  God, 
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  shield-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 

Lusted  for  battle  on  that  field  of  death,  f* 

t^GiSt 

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 

39 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

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  noble  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  hoary,  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  noble  saint 
Abode  blithe-hearted,  planning  valiant  deeds, 

40 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

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  worship  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  noble  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 

11 O  God,  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  God  of  might ; 

So  while  my  life  shall  last  I  ne'er  will  leave, 

O  God,  Thy  gracious  teachings  !     Lo,  Thou  art         1290 

A  shield  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." 

41 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Then  in  their  midst  the  ugly  fiend  appeared, 
That  wicked  traitor  damned  to  torments  sharp  ; 
Before  the  host  he  taught  the  warriors, 
The  Devil  of  hell,  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  gods'  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. 

42 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

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  God  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  hell, 
Began  once  more  to  sing  his  mournful  song : — 
"  What  happened,  O  my  warriors  so  bold, 
My  shield-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." 

43 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andreiv 

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  God  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  God, 
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  God. 

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 

44 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

That  valiant-hearted  thane  a  third  time  forth. 

They  wished  straightway  to  overcome  the  soul 

Of  that  bold  saint — but  it  was  not  to  be. 

Then  was  the  battle  stirred  up  once  again, 

Cruel  and  very  fierce.     The  holy  man, 

Bound  fast  with  cunning  skill,  was  sorely  scourged, 

Pierced  through  with  wounds,  until  the  daylight  failed  ; 

And,  sad  of  heart,  he  cried  aloud  to  God 

Bravely  from  prison  with  his  holy  voice  ; 

Weary  of  soul,  he  spake  these  words  with  tears  : —   1400 

"  Ne'er  have  I  suffered  by  God's  holy  will 

A  lot  more  grievous  under  heaven's  vault, 

In  lands  where  I  have  had  to  preach  His  law  ! 

My  limbs  are  wrenched  apart,  my  body  sore 

Is  broken,  and  my  flesh  is  stained  with  blood  ; 

My  thews  are  torn  and  bloody.     Lo,  Thou  too, 

Ruler  of  victory,  Redeeming  Lord, 

Wast  filled  with  grief  among  the  Jews  that  day 

When  from  the  cross,  Thou,  everlasting  God, 

Glory  of  kings,  creation's  mighty  Lord,  1410 

Called  to  the  Father,  and  thus  spake  to  him  : — 

*  Father  of  angels,  source  of  light  and  life, 

Oh  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me,  I  pray  ? ' 

Torments  most  cruel  I  have  had  to  bear 

For  three  long  days.     I  beg  thee,  Lord  of  hosts, 

That  I  may  give  my  soul  into  Thy  hands, 

Thy  very  hands,  Thou  Nourisher  of  souls  ! 

For  Thou  didst  promise  by  Thy  holy  word, 

When  Thou  didst  stablish  us,  the  chosen  Twelve, 

That  we  should  ne'er  be  scathed  by  foeman's  sword,     1420 

No  member  of  our  bodies  be  destroyed, 

No  bone  nor  sinew  left  beside  the  way ; 

That  no  lock  should  be  lost  from  off  our  heads, 

45 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

If  we  would  keep  Thy  teachings  faithfully. 
My  sinews  now  are  loosed,  my  blood  is  spilled  ; 
My  hair  lies  scattered  wide  upon  the  ground, 
And  death  were  dearer  far  than  this  sad  life." 

Then  spake  a  voice  unto  that  steadfast  man  ; 
The  King  of  glory's  words  resounded  clear: —  1430 

"  Weep  not,  O  man  beloved,  at  this  thy  woe  ; 
Too  hard  it  is  not  for  thee  ;  with  My  aid, 
With  My  protection,  I  will  hold  thee  up, 
And  compass  thee  about  with  My  great  might. 
All  power  is  given  to  Me  upon  this  earth, 
And  glorious  victory.     Full  many  a  man 
Shall  bear  Me  witness  at  the  judgment  day, 
That  all  this  beauteous  world,  the  heavens  and  earth, 
Shall  fall  in  ruin,  before  a  single  word 
Which  I  have  spoken  with  My  mouth  shall  fail.          1440 
Look  now  where  thou  hast  walked,  and  where  thy  blood 
Was  spilled,  where  from  thy  wounds  the  path  was  stained 
With  spots  of  blood.     No  more  harsh  injury 
Can  they  do  unto  thee  by  stroke  of  spears 
Who  most  have  harmed  thee  by  their  cruel  deeds." 
Then  looked  behind  him  that  dear  champion, 
Even  as  the  glorious  King  commanded  him  ; 
Fair  flowering  trees  beheld  he  standing  there, 
With  blossoms  decked,  where  he  had  shed  his  blood. 

Then  spake  in  words  that  shield  of  warriors  : —     1450 
"  Ruler  of  nations,  thanks  and  praise  to  Thee 
And  glory  in  heaven  both  now  and  evermore, 
For  that  Thou  didst  not  leave  me  in  my  woe, 
Alone,  a  stranger,  Lord  of  victory  !  " 
So  to  the  Lord  that  doer  of  great  deeds 

46 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Gave  praise  with  holy  voice  until  the  sun 

In  glorious  brightness  went  beneath  the  waves. 

Then  yet  a  fourth  time  those  fierce-hearted  foes, 
The  leaders  of  the  folk,  brought  back  the  prince 
Unto  his  prison  ;  for  they  hoped  to  turn  1460 

In  the  dark  night  the  hero's  mighty  soul. 
Then  came  the  Lord  unto  that  prison-house, 
Glory  of  warriors,  and  with  words  of  cheer 
The  Guide  of  life,  the  Father  of  mankind, 
Greeted  His  thane  and  bade  him  once  again 
Soundness  enjoy  : — "  From  henceforth  and  for  aye 
Thou  shalt  no  more  bear  woe  from  armed  men." 

Freed  from  the  bondage  of  his  grievous  pains,       1470 
The  mighty  saint  arose  and  thanked  his  God. 
His  beauty  was  not  marred,  nor  was  the  hem 
Loosed  from  his  cloak,  nor  lock  from  off  his  head  ; 
No  bone  was  broken,  and  no  bloody  wounds 
Were  in  his  body,  and  no  injured  limb 
Wet  with  his  blood  through  wounding  stroke  of  sword  ; 
But  there  he  stood  by  God's  most  noble  might 
Whole  as  before,  giving  to  Him  the  praise. 

Lo,  I  awhile  the  story  of  the  saint —  \Jl)V\ 

The  song  of  praise  of  him  who  did  the  deeds — 
Have  set  forth  here  in  words,  a  tale  well  known,        1480     \ 
Beyond  my  power  ;  much  is  there  yet  to  tell — 
A  weary  task — what  he  in  life  endured, 
From  the  beginning  on  !     A  wiser  man 
Upon  the  earth  than  I  account  myself 
Must  in  his  heart  invent  it,  one  who  knows 
From  the  beginning  all  the  misery 
Which  bravely  he  endured  in  cruel  wars. 

47 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Yet  in  small  parts  we  further  must  relate 

A  portion  of  that  tale.     It  has  been  told 

Already  how  he  suffered  many  woes  149° 

From  grievous  warfare  in  the  heathen  town. 

Beside  the  prison-wall  set  wondrous  fast 
He  saw  great  pillars,  work  of  giants  old, 
All  beaten  by  the  storms.     With  one  of  these 
He  converse  held,  mighty  and  bold  of  heart ; 
Prudent  and  wondrous  wise,  he  spake  these  words  : — 
"  Give  ear,  thou  marble  stone,  to  God's  command, 
Before  whose  presence  all  created  things — 
The  heavens  and  earth — stand  trembling,  when  they  see 
The  Father  with  a  countless  multitude  ^S00 

Visit  the  race  of  men  upon  the  earth ! 
Let  streams  well  forth  from  out  thy  firm  support, 
A  gushing  river;  for  the  King  of  heaven, 
Almighty  God,  commands  thee  that  straightway 
Upon  this  stubborn-hearted  folk  thou  send 
Water  wide-flowing  for  the  people's  death, 
A  rushing  sea.     Lo,  thou  art  better  far 
Than  gold  or  treasure !  for  the  King  Himself, 
The  God  of  glory,  wrote  on  thee,  and  showed  1510 

His  mysteries  forth  in  words  ;  Almighty  God 
In  ten  commandments  showed  His  righteous  law, 
Gave  it  to  Moses,  and  true-hearted  men 
Kept  it  thereafter,  mighty  warriors, 
Joshua  and  Tobias,  faithful  thanes, 
God-fearing  men.     Now  dost  thou  truly  know 
That  in  the  days  of  old  the  angels'  King 
Decked  thee  more  fair  than  all  the  precious  stones. 
Now  at  His  holy  bidding  thou  shalt  show  1520 

If  thou  hast  any  knowledge  of  thy  God  !  " 

48 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Then  was  there  no  delay  ;  straightway  the  stone 
Split  open,  and  a  stream  came  rushing  out 
And  flowed  along  the  ground  ;  at  early  dawn 
The  foaming  billows  covered  up  the  earth  ; 
The  ocean-flood  waxed  great ;  mead  was  outpoured 
After  that  day  of  feasting  !     Mail-clad  men 
Shook  off  their  slumbers  ;  water  deeply  stirred 
Seized  on  the  earth  ;  the  host  was  sore  dismayed 
At  terror  of  the  flood  ;  the  youths  were  doomed,        1530 
And  perished  in  the  deep  ;  the  rush  of  war 
Snatched  them  away  with  tumult  of  the  sea. 
That  was  a  grievous  trouble,  bitter  beer ; 
The  ready  cup-bearers  did  not  delay ; 
From  daybreak  on  each  man  had  drink  to  spare. 
The  might  of  waters  waxed,  the  men  wailed  loud, 
Old  bearers  of  the  spear  ;  they  strove  to  flee 
The  fallow  stream  ;  they  fain  would  save  their  lives 
And  seek  a  refuge  in  the  mountain  caves, 
Firm  earth's  support.     An  angel  drove  them  back,     1540 
Compassing  all  the  town  with  gleaming  fire, 
With  savage  flames.     Wild  beat  the  sea  within  ; 
No  troop  of  men  could  scape  from  out  the  walls. 
The  waves  waxed,  and  the  waters  thundered  loud  ; 
The  firebrands  flew  ;  the  flood  welled  up  in  streams. 

Then  easy  was  it  in  that  town  to  find 
The  song  of  sorrow  sung,  and  grief  bemoaned, 
And  many  a  heart  afraid,  and  dirges  sad. 
The  dreadful  fire  was  plain  to  every  eye,  I55° 

Fierce  pillager,  the  uproar  terrible  ; 
And  rushing  through  the  air  the  blasts  of  fire 
Hurled  themselves  round  the  walls  ;  the  floods  grew  great. 
There  far  and  wide  was  lamentation  heard, 

49 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

The  cries  of  helpless  men.     Straightway  began 

One  wretched  warrior  to  collect  the  folk  ; 

Humble  and  sad,  he  spake  with  mournful  voice  :— 

"  Now  may  ye  truly  know  that  we  did  wrong 

When  we  o'erwhelmed  this  stranger  with  our  chains, 

With  bonds  of  torment,  in  the  prison-house  ;  1560 

For  Fate  is  crushing  us,  most  fierce  and  stern — 

That  is  full  clear  !— And  better  is  it  far, 

So  hold  I  truth,  that  we  with  one  accord 

Should  loose  him  soon  as  may  be  from  his  bonds, 

And  beg  the  holy  man  to  give  us  help, 

Comfort  and  aid  !     Full  quickly  we  shall  find 

Peace  after  sorrow,  if  we  seek  of  him." 

Then  Andrew  knew  the  purpose  of  the  folk 
Within  his  heart ;  he  knew  the  warriors'  might,         1570 
The  pride  of  valiant  men,  was  humbled  low. 
The  waters  compassed  them  about,  and  fierce 
The  rushing  torrent  flowed,  the  flood  rejoiced, 
Until  the  welling  sea  o'ertopped  their  breasts, 
And  reached  their  shoulders.     Then  the  noble  saint 
Bade  the  wild  flood  subside,  the  storms  to  cease 
About  the  stony  cliffs.     Straight  walked  he  out 
And  left  his  prison,  valiant,  firm  of  soul, 
Wise-hearted,  dear  to  God  ;  for  him  forthwith 
A  way  was  opened  through  the  spreading  stream  ;     1580 
Calm  was  the  field  of  victory,  the  earth 
Was  dry  at  once  where'er  he  placed  his  foot. 
Blithe-hearted  waxed  the  dwellers  in  that  town, 
And  glad  in  soul ;  /or  help  was  come  to  pass 
After  their  grief./ The  flood  subsided  straight, 
And  at  the  saint's  behest  the  storm  was  stilled, 
The  waters  ceased.     Then  was  the  mountain  cloven — 

50 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

A  frightful  chasm — into  itself  it  drew 
The  flood,  and  swallowed  up  the  fallow  waves, 
The  struggling  sea — the  abyss  devoured  it  all.  1590 

Yet  not  the  waves  alone  it  swallowed  up  ; 
But  fourteen  men,  worst  caitiffs  of  the  throng, 
Went  headlong  to  destruction  with  the  flood 
Under  the  yawning  earth.     Then  sore  afraid 
Was  many  a  heart  at  that  calamity  ; 
They  feared  the  slaughter  both  of  men  and  wives, 
A  yet  more  wretched  season  of  distress, 
When  once  those  sin-stained  cruel  murderers, 
Those  warriors  fierce,  plunged  headlong  down  the  abyss. 

1600 

Straightway  then  spake  they  all  with  one  accord  : — 
"  Now  is  it  plain  to  see  that  one  true  God, 
The  King  of  every  creature,  rules  with  might — 
He  who  did  hither  send  this  messenger 
To  help  the  people  !     Great  is  now  our  need 
That  we  should  follow  righteousness  with  zeal." 

Then  did  the  saint  give  comfort  to  those  men, 
He  cheered  the  throng  of  warriors  with  his  words  : — 
"  Be  not  too  fearful,  though  the  sinful  race 
Sought  ruin,  suffered  death — the  punishment  1610 

Due  to  their  sins.     A  bright  and  glorious  light 
On  you  is  risen  if  ye  but  purpose  well." 
His  prayer  he  sent  before  the  Son  of  God, 
And  begged  the  Holy  One  to  give  His  aid 
Unto  those  youths  who  in  the  ocean-stream 
Had  lost  their  life  within  the  flood's  embrace, 
So  that  their  souls,  forsaken  by  the  Lord, 
Shorn  of  their  glory,  had  been  borne  away 
To  death  and  torments  in  the  power  of  fiends. 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

Saint  Andrew's  prayer  was  pleasing  unto  God,       1620 
Almighty  One,  the  Counselor  of  men  ; 
He  bade  the  youths,  those  whom  the  flood  had  slain, 
Rise  up  unscathed  in  body  from  the  ground. 
Then  straightway  stood  there  up  among  the  throng 
Many  an  ungrown  child,  as  I  have  heard  ; 
Body  and  soul  were  joined  again  in  one, 
Though  but  a  short  time  gone  in  flood's  fierce  rush 
They  all  had  lost  their  lives.     Then  they  received 
True  baptism  and  the  covenant  of  peace,  1630 

The  pledge  of  glory,  God's  protecting  grace, 
Freedom  from  punishment.     The  valiant  saint, 
The  craftsman  of  the  King,  then  bade  them  build 
A  church,  and  make  a  temple  of  the  Lord 
Upon  the  spot  where  those  young  men  arose 
By  baptism,  even  where  the  flood  sprang  forth. 
From  far  and  wide  the  warriors  of  that  town 
Gathered  in  throngs  ;  both  men  and  women  said 
That  they  would  faithfully  obey  his  word, 
Receive  the  bath  of  baptism  joyfully  1640 

According  to  God's  will,  and  straightway  leave 
Their  devil-worship  and  their  ancient  shrines. 
Then  noble  baptism  was  exalted  high 
Among  that  folk,  the  righteous  law  of  God 
Established  'mong  those  men— a  mighty  boon 
Unto  their  country— and  the  church  was  blessed. 

The  messenger  of  God  appointed  one, 
A  man  of  wisdom  tried,  of  prudent  speech, 
To  be  a  bishop  in  that  city  bright 
Over  the  people,  and  he  hallowed  him 
By  virtue  of  his  apostolic  power  ^o 

Before  the  multitude  for  their  behoof,— 

52 


/         v 

The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

/^~^\^^\ 

His  name  was  Platan.     Strictly  Andrew  bade 

That  they  should  keep  his  teachings  zealously, 

And  should  work  out  salvation  for  their  souls. 

He  told  them  he  was  eager  to  depart, 

And  fain  would  leave  that  city  bright  with  gold, 

Their  revelry  and  wealth,  their  bounteous  halls, 

And  seek  a  ship  beside  the  breaking  sea. 

Hard  was  it  for  the  multitude  to  bear 

That  he,  their  leader,  would  no  longer  dwell  1660 

Among  them  there.     But  as  he  journeyed  forth 

The  glorious  God  straightway  appeared  to  him, 

The  Lord  of  hosts,  and  to  His  thane  He  said  : — 

"  [Why  dost  thou  leave  this  people  in  such  haste  ? 

For  hardly  have  they  turned  them  from  their  sin], 

This  nation  from  their  crimes.     Their  minds  for  death 

Are  longing,  sad  of  heart  they  go  about, 

Their  grief  bemoaning,  men  and  women  both  ; 

Weeping  has  come  among  them,  woful  hearts, 

[Since  thou  across  the  floods  in  thy  sea-bark] 

Wilt  haste  away.     Thou  shalt  not  leave  this  flock 

In  joy  so  new,  but  in  My  holy  Name  1670 

Fast  stablish  thou  their  hearts !     Within  this  town, 

Abide,  O  shield  of  warriors,  in  their  halls 

Richly  adorned,  the  space  of  seven  nights, 

Then  with  My  favor  thou  shalt  go  thy  way." 

So  once  again  that  brave  and  mighty  saint 
Returned  to  seek  the  Mermedonian  town. 
In  wisdom  and  in  speech  the  Christians  waxed, 
After  their  eyes  beheld  the  glorious  thane, 
The  noble  King's  apostle.     In  the  way 
Of  faith  he  guided  them  ;  with  glory  bright 
He  made  them  strong  ;  a  countless  multitude  1680 

53 


The  Legend  of  St.  Atidrew 

Of  glorious  men  he  led  to  blessedness, 

Toward  that  most  holy  home  in  Heaven's  realm, 

Where  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Comforter 

In  blessed  Trinity  hold  mighty  rule, 

World  without  end,  within  those  mansions  fair. 

Likewise  the  saint  attacked  their  idol-shrines, 

Banished  their  devil-worship,  and  put  down 

Their  errors.     Mighty  grief  and  hard  to  bear 

Was  that  for  Satan,  when  he  saw  them  turn  1690 

With  hearts  of  gladness  from  the  halls  of  hell 

At  Andrew's  teaching  to  that  land  more  bright, 

Where  fiends  and  evil  spirits  never  come. 

-   Then  was  the  number  of  the  days  fulfilled 

Which  God  had  set,  and  had  commanded  him 

That  he  should  linger  in  that  wind-swept  town  ; 

And  quickly  he  made  ready  for  the  waves 

With  joyful  heart ;  he  wished  once  more  to  seek 

Achaia  in  his  ocean-coursing  ship  ;  1700 

(There  was  he  doomed  to  lose  his  life  and  die 

A  death  of  violence.     This  deed  was  fraught 

With  little  laughter  for  his  murderer  ; 

To  the  jaws  of  hell  he  went,  and  since  that  day 

No  solace  has  that  friendless  wretch  e'er  found.) 

Then  in  great  companies,  as  I  have  heard, 
They  led  unto  his  ship  their  master  dear, 
Men  sad  of  soul  ;  the  heart  of  many  a  one 
Was  welling  hot  in  grief  within  his  breast. 
They  brought  the  zealous  champion  to  his  ship          1710 
Beside  the  sea-cliffs,  and  upon  the  shore 
They  stood  and  mourned  while  they  could  still  behold 
The  joy  of  princes  sailing  o'er  the  waves, 

54 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

The  path  of  seals.     They  praised  the  glorious  King  ; 

The  throngs  cried  out  aloud,  and  thus  they  spake  : — 

"  One  and  eternal  is  the  God  who  rules 

O'er  all  created  things  ;  throughout  the  earth 

His  might  and  His  dominion  far  and  near 

Are  magnified.     His  glory  over  all 

Shines  on  His  saints  in  heavenly  majesty  1720 

Among  the  angels  now  anti  evermore 

In  splendor  fair.     He  is  a  noble  King  !  " 

^ 


55 


NOTES 


38  f.     Lit.  "hay  and  grass  oppressed  them." 

298.     Reading  ara  with  Grein. 

368.  The  MS.  says  hie  (they),  with  change  of  subject ;  for  the  sake 
of  clearness  I  have  kept  Andrew  as  the  subject. 

424.     Reading  sund  with  Grein. 

592.     Adopting  Siever's  reading,  reonigmode  (Beitr.  X,  506). 

656.  "  another  house  " ;  I  am  at  a  loss  to  explain  this  apparent  incon 
sistency. 

713.    That  there  are  two  images  is  shown  by  the  Greek. 

719.     I  omit  is.    The  passage  as  it  stands  is  meaningless. 

746.     Reading  ge  mon  clgaft,  with  Cosijn. 

826.  Lit.  "  'Till  sleep  came  o'er  them  weary  of  the  sea"  ;  but  Andrew 
is  already  asleep.  The  line  is  probably  corrupt. 

828.  Something  is  apparently  missing,  though  the  MS.  shows  no 
break.  Without  attempting  an  emendation  I  have  supplied  :  "  bade  him 
seek,"  as  completing  the  obvious  sense. 

1024.  At  this  point  a  page  is  missing  in  the  manuscript.  It  must 
have  corresponded  to  the  end  of  Chap.  19  and  to  Chap.  20  of  the 
Greek,  in  which  Andrew  and  Matthew  exchange  short  speeches,  after 
which  Andrew  utters  a  long  tirade  against  the  Devil  as  the  author  of 
this  woe.  I  have  omitted  lines  1023 b,  1024,  and  1025,  which  are  mean 
ingless  without  what  has  been  lost. 

1035.  The  number  of  men  is  uncertain.  According  to  the  Greek  it 
is  270,  but  the  Homily  says  248.  The  manuscript  reads :  "two  and  a 
hundred  by  number,  also  forty,"  but  1.  1036  is  evidently  deficient. 
Wiilker  emends  to  swylce  seofontig.  This  is  unsatisfactory,  since  the 
line  is  metrically  deficient,  and  since,  moreover,  the  regular  word  for 
seventy  is  not  seofontig,  but  hundseofontig.  Without  venturing  an 
emendation,  I  have  taken  the  number  248  from  the  Homily,  as  being 
nearer  the  manuscript  than  the  270  of  the  Greek.  This  similarity  is  an 
additional  argument  for  a  common  Latin  original  of  the  poem  and  the 
Homily. 

1212.  The  poet  has  neglected  to  mention  the  circumstance,  clearly 
stated  in  the  Greek,  that  Andrew  was  still  invisible  both  to  the  Devil 
and  to  the  Mermedonians.  This  makes  clear  several  passages,  i.  e., 
11.  1203,  1212,  1223  f. 

1242.     Reading  untweonde  with  Grein  and  Cosijn. 

57 


The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew 

1276.  I  have  here  omitted  two  half-lines,  of  which  the  sense  is  very 
obscure.  Grein  connects  lifrum  with  Germ,  liefern  =  "  to  coagulate  " 
(cf.  Eng.  lopperedmilk\  instead  of  assigning  it  to  lifer  =  "liver,"  but  this 
interpretation  is  not  very  satisfactory.  See  also  Cosijn's  note  (Paul  und 
Braune's  Beitrdge,  XXI,  17). 

1338.  The  Greek  explains  that  God  had  put  the  sign  of  the  cross  on 
Andrew's  face. 

1376.  I  have  here  ventured  an  emendation  of  my  own.  The  sentence 
as  it  stands  is  without  a  main  verb,  and  1377  a  is  metrically  deficient. 
I  would  read : — 

Hwaet  me  eatSe  [maeg]  aelmihtig  God 
niSa  [generian],  se  fie  in  niedum  lu. 

See  under  generian  in  Grein's  Sprachschatz. 

1478  ff.  This  passage  is  certainly  ambiguous.  That  haliges  refers  to 
Andrew,  and  not  to  God,  is  shown  by  the  use  of  he  in  1.  1482. 

1493.  I  follow  Grein's  emendation,  and  read  saelwage  =  "  castle 
wall,"  although  the  word  is  not  found  elsewhere.  If  we  read  saelwange 
with  Wiilker,  the  meaning  of  under  must  be  greatly  stretched.  More 
over,  the  Greek  says:  "He  saw  a  pillar  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
prison."' 

1508.  Reading  geofon  with  Grimm,  Kemble,  etc.,  as  also  in  393  and 
1585- 

1545.     Reading  wadu  with  Kemble  and  Grein. 

1663.  Apparently  a  line  or  two  is  missing  here,  though  there  is  no 
break  in  the  manuscript.  I  have  translated  in  brackets  Grein's  conjec 
tural  emendation,  as  supplying  the  probable  meaning. 

1667.     I  have  again  translated  Grein's  emendation. 

1681.    Reading  tireadigra  with  Kemble. 


YALE   STUDIES   IN   ENGLISH 
ALBERT  S.  COOK,  EDITOR 

I.     The    Foreign    Sources   of   Modern    English 

Versification.     Charlton  M.  Lewis,  Ph.D.        .50 

II.     ^Elfric :  a  New  Study  of  his  Life  and  Writ 
ings.     Caroline  Louisa  White,  Ph.D.         .      1.50 

III.  The  Life  of  St.  Cecilia,  from  MS.  Ashmole 

43  and  MS.  Cotton  Tiberius  E.  VII,  with 
Introduction,  Variants,  and  Glossary. 
Bertha  Ellen  Lovewell,  Ph.D.  .  .  .  i.oo 

IV.  Dryden's    Dramatic    Theory    and   Practice. 

Margaret  Sherwood,  Ph.D.         .         .         .        .50 

V.     Studies    in    Jonson's    Comedy.       Elisabeth 

Woodbridge,  Ph.D 50 

VI.  A  Glossary  of  the  West  Saxon  Gospels, 
Latin-West  Saxon  and  West  Saxon-Latin. 
Mattie  Anstice  Harris,  Ph.D.  .  .  1.50 

VII.  The  Legend  of  St.  Andrew,  translated  from 
the  Old  English,  with  an  Introduction. 
Robert  Kilburn  Root.  .  ....  .50 

VIII.     Classical    Mythology    in    Milton.      Charles 

Grosvenor  Osgood,  Jr.     (In  preparation)        .75 

IX.  A  Guide  to  the  Middle  English  Metrical 
Romances  dealing  with  English  and  Ger 
manic  Legends,  and  with  the  Cycles  of 
Charlemagne  and  of  Arthur.  Anna  Hunt 
Billings,  Ph.D.  (In  preparation)  .  .  1.50 


Andreas   (Anglo-Saxon  poem) 
Andreas 


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