{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14529/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14529","id":"gutenberg_14529","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14529","summary":null,"tags":["Animals -- Folklore -- Early works to 1800","Animals -- Folklore -- Poetry","Bestiaries","Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Didactic poetry, English (Old)","Exeter book"],"text":"YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH\nALBERT S. COOK, EDITOR\nLXIII\n\n\nTHE\nOLD ENGLISH PHYSIOLOGUS\n\n\nTEXT AND PROSE TRANSLATION\nBY\nALBERT STANBURROUGH COOK\nProfessor of the English Language and Literature in Yale University\n\n\nVERSE TRANSLATION\nBY\nJAMES HALL PITMAN\nFellow in English of Yale University\n\n\nNEW HAVEN: YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS\nLONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD\nOXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS\nMDCCCXXI\n\n\n[FACSIMILE]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThe Old English _Physiologus_, or _Bestiary_, is a series of three brief\npoems, dealing with the mythical traits of a land-animal, a sea-beast,\nand a bird respectively, and deducing from them certain moral or\nreligious lessons. These three creatures are selected from a much larger\nnumber treated in a work of the same name which was compiled at\nAlexandria before 140 B.C., originally in Greek, and afterwards\ntranslated into a variety of languages--into Latin before 431. The\nstandard form of the _Physiologus_ has 49 chapters, each dealing with a\nseparate animal (sometimes imaginary) or other natural object, beginning\nwith the lion, and ending with the ostrich; examples of these are the\npelican, the eagle, the phoenix, the ant (cf. Prov. 6.6), the fox, the\nunicorn, and the salamander. In this standard text, the Old English\npoems are represented by chapters 16, 17, and 18, dealing in succession\nwith the panther, a mythical sea-monster called the asp-turtle (usually\ndenominated the whale), and the partridge. Of these three poems, the\nthird is so fragmentary that little is left except eight lines of\nreligious application, and four of exhortation by the poet, so that the\noutline of the poem, and especially the part descriptive of the\npartridge, must be conjecturally restored by reference to the treatment\nin the fuller versions, which are based upon Jer. 17.11 (the texts drawn\nupon for the application in lines 5-11 are 2 Cor. 6.17,18; Isa. 55.7;\nHeb. 2.10,11).\n\nIt has been said: 'With the exception of the Bible, there is perhaps no\nother book in all literature that has been more widely current in every\ncultivated tongue and among every class of people.' Such currency might\nbe illustrated from many English authors. Two passages from Elizabethan\nliterature may serve as specimens--the one from Spenser, the other from\nShakespeare. The former is from the _Faerie Queene_ (1. 11.34):\n\n    At last she saw, where he upstarted brave\n    Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay;\n    As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean wave,\n    Where he hath left his plumes all hoary gray,\n    And deckt himselfe with feathers youthly gay,\n    Like Eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies,\n    His newly budded pineons to assay,\n    And marveiles at himselfe, still as he flies:\n    So new this new-borne knight to battell new did rise.\n\nThe other is from _Hamlet_ (Laertes to the King):\n\n    To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;\n    And like the kind life-rendering pelican,\n    Repast them with my blood.[1]\n\nHowever widely diffused, the symbolism exemplified by the _Physiologus_\nis peculiarly at home in the East. Thus Egypt symbolized the sun, with\nhis death at night passing into a rebirth, by the ph\u0153nix, which, by a\nnatural extension, came to signify the resurrection. And the Bible not\nonly sends the sluggard to the ant, and bids men consider the lilies of\nthe field, but with a large sweep commands (Job 12.7,8): 'Ask now the\nbeasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they\nshall tell thee; or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee; and the\nfishes of the sea shall declare unto thee.'\n\n[Footnote 1: Alfred de Musset, in _La Nuit de Mai_, develops the image\nof the pelican through nearly thirty lines.]\n\nThe text as here printed is extracted from my edition, _The Old English\nElenc, Ph\u0153nix, and Physiologus_ (Yale University Press, 1919), where a\ncritical apparatus may be found; here it may be sufficient to say that\nItalic letters in square brackets denote my emendations, and Roman\nletters those of previous editors. The translations have not hitherto\nbeen published, and no complete ones are extant in any language, save\nthose contained in Thorpe's edition of the _Codex Exoniensis_, which\nappeared in 1842. The long conjectural passage in the _Partridge_ is due\nwholly to Mr. Pitman.\n\n                                                                  A.S.C.\n\nMarch 27, 1921.\n\n\n\n\nPHYSIOLOGUS\n\n\n\n\n[**Transcriber's note: The following texts have been split into small\nsections based on the pagination of the original. These sections\nalternate as follows, each section being separated from its neighbors by\nrows of asterisks: Old English verse; Modern English verse translation;\nModern English prose translation. While this fragments each version, it\nfacilitates comparison in parallel.]\n\n\nI\n\nTHE PANTHER\n\n\n      Monge sindon    geond middangeard\n    unr\u012bmu cynn,    [_\u00fe\u0101ra_] \u00fee w\u0113 \u00e6\u00feelu ne magon\n    ryhte \u0101reccan    n\u0113 r\u012bm witan;\n    \u00fe\u00e6s w\u012bde sind    geond wor[_u_]l[d] innan\n5   fugla and d\u0113ora    foldhr\u0113rendra\n    wornas widsceope,    sw\u0101 w\u00e6ter bib\u016bge\u00f0\n    \u00feisne beorhtan b\u014dsm,    brim grymetende,\n    sealt\u0233pa geswing.\n                         W\u0113 bi sumum h\u0233rdon\n    wr\u01e3tl\u012bc[_um_] gecynd[_e_]    wildra secgan,\n10  f\u012brum fr\u0113am\u01e3rne,    feorlondum on,\n    eard weardian,    \u0113\u00f0les n\u0113otan,\n    \u00e6fter d\u016bnscrafum.    Is \u00fe\u00e6t d\u0113or Pandher\n    bi noman h\u0101ten,    \u00fe\u00e6s \u00fee ni\u00fe\u00fea bear[n],\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n      Of living creatures many are the kinds\n    Throughout the world--unnumbered, since no man\n    Can count their multitudes, nor rightly learn\n    The ways of their wild nature; wide they roam,\n    These beasts and birds, as far as ocean sets\n    A limit to the earth, embracing her\n    And all her sunny fields with salty seas\n    And toss of roaring billows.\n                                 We have heard\n    From men of wider lore of one wild beast,\n    Wonderful dweller in a far-off land\n    Renowned of men, who loves his native glens\n    And dusky caverns. Him have wise men called\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMany, yea numberless, are the tribes throughout the world whose natures\nwe can not rightly expound nor their multitudes reckon, so immense are\nthe swarms of birds and earth-treading animals wherever water, the\nroaring ocean, the surge of salt billows, encompasses the smiling bosom\nof earth.\n\nWe have heard about one marvelous kind of wild beast which inhabits, in\nlands far off, a domain renowned among men, rejoicing there in his home\namid the mountain-caves. This beast is called panther, as the learned\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    w\u012bsf\u00e6ste weras,    on gewritum c\u0233\u00fea[_\u00f0_]\n15  bi \u00fe\u0101m \u0101nstapan.\n                        S\u0113 is \u01e3[_g_]hw\u0101m fr\u0113ond,\n    dugu\u00f0a \u0113stig,    b\u016btan dracan \u0101num;\n    \u00fe\u0101m h\u0113 in ealle t\u012bd    andwr\u0101\u00f0 leofa\u00fe,\n    \u00feurh yfla gehwylc    \u00fee h\u0113 ge\u00e6fnan m\u00e6g.\n      \u00d0\u00e6t is wr\u01e3tl\u012bc d\u0113or,    wundrum sc\u0233ne,\n20  h\u012bwa gehwylces.    Sw\u0101 h\u00e6le\u00f0 secga\u00f0,\n    g\u01e3sth\u0101lge guman,    \u00fe\u00e6tte I\u014ds\u0113phes\n    tunece w\u01e3re    telga gehwylces\n    bl\u0113om bregdende,    \u00fe\u0101ra beorhtra gehwylc,\n    \u01e3ghw\u00e6s \u01e3nl\u012bcra,    \u014d\u00ferum l\u012bxte\n25  dryhta bearnum,    sw\u0101 \u00fe\u00e6s d\u0113ores h\u012bw,\n    bl\u01e3c, brigda gehw\u00e6s,    beorhtra and sc\u0233nra\n    wundrum l\u012bxe\u00f0,    \u00fe\u00e6tte wr\u01e3tl\u012bcra\n    \u01e3ghwylc \u014d\u00ferum,    \u01e3nl\u012bcra g\u012ben\n    and f\u01e3gerra,    fr\u00e6twum bl\u012bce\u00f0,\n30  symle sell\u012bcra.\n                       H\u0113 hafa\u00f0 sundorgecynd,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    The panther, and in books have told of him,\n    The solitary rover.\n                        He is kind,\n    A bounteous friend to every living thing\n    Save one alone, the dragon; but with him\n    The panther ever lives at enmity,\n    Employing every means within his power\n    To work him evil.\n                      Fair is he, full bright\n    And wonderful of hue. The holy scribes\n    Tell us how Joseph's many-colored coat,\n    Gleaming with varying dyes of every shade,\n    Brilliant, resplendent, dazzled all men's eyes\n    That looked upon it. So the panther's hues\n    Shine altogether lovely, marvelous,\n    While each fair color in its beauty glows\n    Ever more rare and charming than the rest.\n      His wondrous character is mild, and free\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\namong the children of men report in their books concerning that lonely\nwanderer.\n\nHe is a friend, bountiful in kindness, to every one save only the\ndragon; with him he always lives at enmity by means of every injury he\ncan inflict.\n\nHe is a bewitching animal, marvelously beautiful with every color. Just\nas, according to men holy in spirit, Joseph's coat was variegated with\nhues of every shade, each shining before the sons of men brighter and\nmore perfect than another, so does the color of this beast blaze with\nevery diversity, gleaming in wondrous wise so clear and fair that each\ntint is ever lovelier than the next, glows more enchanting in its\nsplendor, more rare, more beauteous, and more strange.\n\nHe has a nature all his own, so gentle and so calm is\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    milde, gemetf\u00e6st.    H\u0113 is mon\u00few\u01e3re,\n    lufsum and l\u0113oft\u00e6l:    nele l\u0101\u00fees wiht\n    \u01e3[ng]um ge\u00e6fnan    b\u016btan \u00fe\u0101m \u0101ttorscea\u00fean,\n    his fyrngeflitan,    \u00fee ic \u01e3r fore s\u00e6gde.\n35    Symle, fylle f\u00e6gen,    \u00feonne f\u014dddor \u00feige\u00f0,\n    \u00e6fter \u00fe\u0101m gereordum    r\u00e6ste s\u0113ce\u00f0,\n    d\u0233gle st\u014dwe    under d\u016bnscrafum;\n    \u00f0\u01e3r se \u00fe\u0113o[d]wiga    \u00fer\u0113onihta f\u00e6c\n    swife\u00f0 on swe[_o_]fote,    sl\u01e3pe gebiesga[d].\n40  \u00deonne ellenr\u014df    \u016bp \u0101stonde\u00f0,\n    \u00ferymme gewelga[d],    on \u00feone \u00feriddan d\u00e6g,\n    sn\u0113ome of sl\u01e3pe.    Sw\u0113ghl\u0113o\u00feor cyme\u00f0,\n    w\u014d\u00fea wynsumast,    \u00feurh \u00fe\u00e6s wildres m\u016b\u00f0;\n    \u00e6fter p\u00e6re stefne    stenc \u016bt cyme\u00f0\n45  of \u00fe\u0101m wongstede--    wynsumra st\u0113am,\n    sw\u0113ttra and sw\u012b\u00fera,    sw\u00e6cca gehwylcum,\n    wyrta bl\u014dstmum    and wudubl\u0113dum,\n    eallum \u00e6\u00feel\u012bcra    eor\u00fean fr\u00e6tw[um].\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    From all disturbing passion. Gracious, kind,\n    And full of love, he meditates no harm\n    But to that venomous foe, as I have told,\n    His ancient enemy.\n                       Once he has rejoiced\n    His heart with feasting, straight he finds a nook\n    Hidden among dim caves, his resting-place.\n    There three nights' space, in deepest slumber wrapped,\n    The people's champion lies. Then, stout of heart,\n    The third day he arises fresh from sleep,\n    Endowed with glory. From the creature's mouth\n    Issues a melody of sweetest strains;\n    And close upon the voice a balmy scent\n    Fills all the place--an incense lovelier,\n    Sweeter, and abler to perfume the air,\n    Than any odor of an earthly flower\n    Or scent of woodland fruit, more excellent\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nit. Kind, attractive, and friendly, he has no thought of doing harm to\nany save the envenomed foe, his ancient adversary of whom I spoke.\n\nWhen, delighting in a feast, he has partaken of food, ever at the end of\nthe meal he betakes himself to his resting-place, a hidden retreat among\nthe mountain-caves; there the champion of his race, overcome by sleep,\nabandons himself to slumber for the space of three nights. Then the\ndauntless one, replenished with vigor, straightway arises from sleep\nwhen the third day has come. A melody, the most ravishing of strains,\nflows from the wild beast's mouth; and, following the music, there\nissues a fragrance from the place--a fume more transporting, sweet, and\nstrong than any odor whatever, than blossoms of plants or fruits of the\nforest, choicer\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \u00deonne of ceastrum    and cynest\u014dlum\n50  and of burgsalum    beorn\u00fer\u0113at monig\n    fara\u00f0 foldwegum    folca \u00fer\u0233\u00feum;\n    \u0113oredcystum,    ofestum gef\u0233sde,\n    dare\u00f0l\u0101cende    --d\u0113or [s]w\u0101 some--\n    \u00e6fter \u00fe\u01e3re stefne    on \u00feone stenc fara\u00f0.\n55    Sw\u0101 is Dryhten God,    dr\u0113ama R\u01e3dend,\n    eallum \u0113a\u00f0m\u0113de    \u014d\u00ferum gesceaftum,\n    dugu\u00f0a gehwylcre,    b\u016btan dracan \u0101num,\n    \u0101ttres ordfruman--    \u00fe\u00e6t is se ealda f\u0113ond\n    \u00feone h\u0113 ges\u01e3lde    in s\u016bsla grund,\n60  and gefetrade    f\u0233rnum t\u0113agum,\n    bi\u00feeahte \u00fer\u0113an\u0233dum;    and \u00fe\u0233 \u00feriddan d\u00e6ge\n    of d\u012bgle \u0101r\u0101s,    \u00fe\u00e6s \u00fee h\u0113 d\u0113a\u00f0 fore \u016bs\n    \u00fer\u0113o niht \u00feolade,    \u00de\u0113oden engla,\n    sigora Sellend.    \u00de\u00e6t w\u00e6s sw\u0113te stenc,\n65  wlitig and wynsum,    geond woruld ealle.\n    Si\u00fe\u00fean t\u014d \u00fe\u0101m swicce    s\u014d\u00f0f\u00e6ste men,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Than all this world's adornments. Then from town\n    And palace, then from castle-hall, come forth\n    Along the roads great troops of hurrying men--\n    The very beasts come also; all press on\n    Toward that sweet odor, when the voice is stilled.\n      Such as this creature is the Lord our God,\n    Giver of joys, to all creation kind,\n    To men benignant, save alone to him,\n    The dragon, author of all wickedness,\n    Satan, the ancient adversary whom,\n    Fettered with fire, shackled with dire constraint,\n    Into the pit of torments God cast down.\n    The third day Christ arose from out the grave,\n    For three nights having suffered death for us,\n    He, Lord of angels, he in whom alone\n    Is hope of overcoming. Far and wide\n    The tidings spread, like perfume fresh and sweet,\n    Through all the world. Then to that fragrance thronged\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nthan aught that clothes the earth with beauty. Thereupon from cities,\ncourts, and castle-halls many companies of heroes flock along the\nhighways of earth; the wielders of the spear press forward in hurrying\nthrongs to that perfume--and so also do animals--when once the music has\nceased.\n\nEven so the Lord God, the Giver of joy, is gracious to all creatures, to\nevery order of them, save only the dragon, the source of venom, that\nancient enemy whom he bound in the abyss of torments; shackling him with\nfiery fetters, and loading him with dire constraints, he arose from\ndarkness on the third day after he, the Lord of angels, the Bestower of\nvictory, had for three nights endured death on our behalf. That was a\nsweet perfume throughout the world, winsome and entrancing. Henceforth,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    on healfa gehwone,    h\u0113apum \u00ferungon\n    geond ealne ymbhwyrft    eor\u00fean sc\u0113at[a].\n    Sw\u0101 se snottra gecw\u00e6\u00f0    Sanctus Paulus:\n70  'Monigfealde sind    geond middangeard\n    g\u014dd ungn\u0233\u00f0e    \u00fee \u016bs t\u014d giefe d\u01e3le\u00f0\n    and t\u014d feorhnere    F\u00e6der \u00e6lmihtig,\n    and se \u0101nga Hyht    ealra gesceafta\n    uppe ge ni\u00fere.'    \u00de\u00e6t is \u00e6\u00feele stenc.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    From every side all men whose hearts were true,\n    Throughout the regions of the circled earth.\n    Thus spoke the wise St. Paul: 'In all the world\n    His gifts are many, which he gives to us\n    For our salvation with unstinting hand,\n    Almighty Father, he, the only Hope\n    Of all in heaven or here below on earth.'\n    This is that noble fragrance, rare and sweet,\n    Which draws all men to seek it from afar.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nthrough the whole extent of earth's regions, righteous men have streamed\nin multitudes from every side to that fragrance. As said the wise St.\nPaul: 'Manifold over the world are the lavish bounties which the Father\nalmighty, the Hope of all creatures above and below, bestows on us as\ngrace and salvation.' That, too, is a sweet odor.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE WHALE (ASP-TURTLE)\n\n\n      N\u016b ic fitte g\u0113n    ymb fisca cynn\n    wille w\u014d\u00f0cr\u00e6fte    wordum c\u0233\u00fean\n    \u00feurh m\u014ddgemynd,    bi \u00fe\u0101m miclan hwale.\n    S\u0113 bi\u00f0 unwillum    oft gem\u0113ted,\n5   fr\u0113cne and fer[_h_]\u00f0grim,    fare\u00f0l\u0101cendum,\n    ni\u00fe\u00fea gehwylcum;    \u00fe\u0101m is noma cenned,\n    fyr[ge]nstr\u0113ama geflotan,    Fastitocalon.\n      Is \u00fe\u00e6s h\u012bw gel\u012bc    hr\u0113ofum st\u0101ne,\n    swylce w\u014drie    bi w\u00e6des \u014dfre,\n10  sondbeorgum ymbseald,    s\u01e3r\u0233rica m\u01e3st,\n    sw\u0101 \u00fe\u00e6t w\u0113na\u00fe    w\u01e3gl\u012b\u00feende\n    \u00fe\u00e6t h\u0233 on \u0113alond sum    \u0113agum wl\u012bten;\n    and \u00feonne geh\u0233d[_i_]a\u00f0    h\u0113ahstefn scipu\n    t\u014d \u00fe\u0101m unlonde    oncyrr\u0101pum,\n15  s[_\u01e3_]la\u00fe s\u01e3mearas    sundes \u00e6t ende,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n      Now will I spur again my wit, and use\n    Poetic skill to weave words into song,\n    Telling of one among the race of fish,\n    The great asp-turtle. Men who sail the sea\n    Often unwillingly encounter him,\n    Dread preyer on mankind. His name we know,\n    The ocean-swimmer, Fastitocalon.\n      Dun, like rough stone in color, as he floats\n    He seems a heaving bank of reedy grass\n    Along the shore, with rolling dunes behind,\n    So that sea-wanderers deem their gaze has found\n    An island. Boldly then their high-prowed ships\n    They moor with cables to that shore, a land\n    That is no land. Still floating on the waves,\n    Their ocean-coursers curvet at the marge;\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis time I will with poetic art rehearse, by means of words and wit, a\npoem about a kind of fish, the great sea-monster which is often\nunwillingly met, terrible and cruel-hearted to seafarers, yea, to every\nman; this swimmer of the ocean-streams is known as the asp-turtle.\n\nHis appearance is like that of a rough boulder, as if there were tossing\nby the shore a great ocean-reedbank begirt with sand-dunes, so that\nseamen imagine they are gazing upon an island, and moor their\nhigh-prowed ships with cables to that false land, make fast the\nocean-coursers at the sea's end, and, bold of heart, climb up\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    and \u00feonne in \u00fe\u00e6t \u0113glond    \u016bp gew\u012bta\u00f0\n    collenfer[_h_]\u00fee;    c\u0113olas stonda\u00f0\n    bi sta\u00fee f\u00e6ste    str\u0113ame biwunden.\n    \u00d0onne gew\u012bcia\u00f0    w\u0113rigfer[_h_]\u00f0e,\n20  faro\u00f0l\u0101cende,    fr\u0113cnes ne w\u0113na\u00f0.\n      On \u00fe\u0101m \u0113alonde    \u01e3led wecca\u00f0,\n    h\u0113ah fyr \u01e3la\u00f0.    H\u00e6le\u00fe b\u0113o\u00fe on wynnum,\n    r\u0113onigm\u014dde,    r\u00e6ste gel[y]ste.\n    \u00deonne gef\u0113le\u00f0    f\u0101cnes cr\u00e6ftig\n25  \u00fe\u00e6t him \u00fe\u0101 f\u0113rend on    f\u00e6ste wunia\u00fe,\n    w\u012bc weardia\u00f0,    wedres on luste,\n    \u00f0onne semninga    on sealtne w\u01e3g\n    mid \u00fe\u0101 n\u014d\u00fee    ni\u00feer gew\u012bte\u00fe,\n    g\u0101rsecges g\u00e6st,    grund ges\u0113ce\u00f0,\n30  and \u00feonne in d\u0113a\u00f0sele    drence bif\u00e6ste\u00f0\n    scipu mid scealcum.\n                           Sw\u0101 bi\u00f0 scinn[_en_]a \u00fe\u0113aw,\n    d\u0113ofla w\u012bse,    \u00fe\u00e6t h\u012b droht[i]ende\n    \u00feurh dyrne meaht    dugu\u00f0e besw\u012bca\u00f0,\n    and on teosu tyhta\u00fe    tilra d\u01e3da,\n35  w\u0113ma\u00f0 on willan,    \u00fe\u00e6t h\u0233 wra\u00fee s\u0113cen,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    The weary-hearted sailors mount the isle,\n    And, free from thought of peril, there abide.\n      Elated, on the sands they build a fire,\n    A mounting blaze. There, light of heart, they sit--\n    No more discouraged--eager for sweet rest.\n    Then when the crafty fiend perceives that men,\n    Encamped upon him, making their abode,\n    Enjoy the gentle weather, suddenly\n    Under the salty waves he plunges down,\n    Straight to the bottom deep he drags his prey;\n    He, guest of ocean, in his watery haunts\n    Drowns ships and men, and fast imprisons them\n    Within the halls of death.\n                               Such is the way\n    Of demons, devils' wiles: to hide their power,\n    And stealthily inveigle heedless men,\n    Inciting them against all worthy deeds,\n    And luring them to seek for help and comfort\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\non that island; the vessels stand by the beach, enringed by the flood.\nThe weary-hearted sailors then encamp, dreaming not of peril.\n\nOn the island they start a fire, kindle a mounting flame. The dispirited\nheroes, eager for repose, are flushed with joy. Now when the cunning\nplotter feels that the seamen are firmly established upon him, and have\nsettled down to enjoy the weather, the guest of ocean sinks without\nwarning into the salt wave with his prey (?), and makes for the bottom,\nthus whelming ships and men in that abode of death.\n\nSuch is the way of demons, the wont of devils: they spend their lives in\noutwitting men by their secret power, inciting them to the corruption of\ngood deeds, misguiding\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    fr\u014dfre t\u014d f\u0113ondum,    o\u00fe\u00fe\u00e6t hy f\u00e6ste \u00f0\u01e3r\n    \u00e6t \u00fe\u0101m w\u01e3rlogan    w\u012bc gec\u0113osa\u00f0.\n    \u00deonne \u00fe\u00e6t gecn\u0101we\u00f0    of cwics\u016bsle\n    fl\u0101h f\u0113ond gem\u0101h,    \u00fe\u00e6tte f\u012bra gehwylc\n40  h\u00e6le\u00fea cynnes    on his hringe bi\u00fe\n    f\u00e6ste gef\u0113ged,    h\u0113 him feorgbona,\n    \u00feurh sl\u012b\u00feen searo,    si\u00fe\u00fean weor\u00fee\u00f0,\n    wloncum and h\u0113anum    \u00fee his willan h\u0113r\n    firenum fremma\u00f0;    mid \u00fe\u0101m h\u0113 f\u01e3ringa,\n45  heolo\u00fehelme bi\u00feeaht,    helle s\u0113ce\u00f0,\n    g\u014dda g\u0113asne,    grundl\u0113asne wylm\n    under mistgl\u014dme,    sw\u0101 se micla hw\u00e6l\n    se \u00fee bisence\u00f0    s\u01e3l\u012b\u00feende\n    eorlas and \u0233\u00f0mearas.\n                            H\u0113 hafa\u00f0 \u014d\u00fere gecynd,\n50  w\u00e6ter\u00feisa wlonc,    wr\u01e3tl\u012bcran g\u012ben.\n    \u00deonne hine on holme    hunger bysga\u00f0,\n    and \u00feone \u0101gl\u01e3can    \u01e3tes lyste\u00fe,\n    \u00f0onne se mereweard    m\u016b\u00f0 ont\u0233ne\u00f0,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    From unsuspected foes, until at last\n    They choose a dwelling with the faithless one.\n    Then, when the fiend, by crafty malice stirred,\n    From where hell's torments bind him fast, perceives\n    That men are firmly set in his domain,\n    With treachery unspeakable he hastes\n    To snare and to destroy the lives of those,\n    Both proud and lowly, who in sin perform\n    His will on earth. Donning the mystic helm\n    Of darkness, with his prey he speeds to hell,\n    The place devoid of good--all misty gloom,\n    Where broods a sullen lake, black, bottomless,\n    Just as the monster, Fastitocalon,\n    Destroys seafarers, overwhelming men\n    And staunch-built ships.\n                             Another trait he has,\n    This proud sea-swimmer, still more marvelous.\n    When hunger grips the monster on the deep,\n    Making him long for food, his gaping mouth\n    The ocean-warder opens, stretching wide\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nthem at will so that they seek help and support from fiends, until they\nend by making their fixed abode with the betrayer. When, from out his\nliving torture, the crafty, malicious enemy perceives that any one is\nfirmly settled within his domain, he proceeds, by his malignant wiles,\nto become the slayer of that man, be he rich or poor, who sinfully does\nhis will; and, covered by his cap of darkness, suddenly betakes himself\nwith them to hell, where naught of good is found, a bottomless abyss\nshrouded in misty gloom--like that monster which engulfs the\nocean-traversing men and ships.\n\nThis proud tosser of the waves has another and still more wonderful\ntrait. When hunger plagues him on the deep, and the monster longs for\nfood, this haunter of the sea opens his mouth, and sets his lips agape;\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    w\u012bde weleras;    cyme\u00f0 wynsum stenc\n55  of his inno\u00fee,    \u00fe\u00e6tte \u014d\u00fere \u00feurh \u00feone,\n    s\u01e3fisca cynn,    beswicen weor\u00f0a\u00fe.\n    Swimma\u00f0 sundhwate    \u00fe\u01e3r se sw\u0113ta stenc\n    \u016bt gew\u012bt[e]\u00f0.    H\u012b \u00fe\u01e3r in fara\u00f0,\n    unware weorude,    o\u00fe\u00fe\u00e6t se w\u012bda ceafl\n60  gefylled bi\u00f0;    \u00feonne f\u01e3ringa\n    ymbe \u00fe\u0101 hereh\u016b\u00fee    hlemme\u00f0 t\u014dg\u00e6dre\n    grimme g\u014dman.\n                     Sw\u0101 bi\u00fe gumena gehw\u0101m\n    se \u00fee oftost his    unw\u00e6rl\u012bce,\n    on \u00fe\u0101s l\u01e3nan t\u012bd,    l\u012bf bisc\u0113awa\u00f0:\n65  l\u01e3te\u00f0 hine besw\u012bcan    \u00feurh sw\u0113tne stenc,\n    l\u0113asne willan,    \u00fe\u00e6t h\u0113 bi\u00fe leahtrum f\u0101h\n    wi\u00f0 Wuldorcyning.    Him se \u0101wyrgda ong\u0113an\n    \u00e6fter hins\u012b\u00fee    helle ont\u0233ne\u00f0,\n    \u00fe\u0101m \u00fee l\u0113asl\u012bce    l\u012bces wynne\n70  ofer ferh[\u00f0]gereaht    fremedon on unr\u01e3d.\n    \u00deonne se f\u01e3cna    in \u00fe\u0101m f\u00e6stenne\n    gebr\u014dht hafa\u00f0,    bealwes cr\u00e6ftig,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    His monstrous lips; and from his cavernous maw\n    Sends an entrancing odor. This sweet scent,\n    Deceiving other fishes, lures them on\n    In swiftly moving schools toward that fell place\n    Whence comes the perfume. There, unwary host,\n    They enter in, until the yawning mouth\n    Is filled to overflowing, when, at once,\n    Trapping their prey, the fearful jaws snap shut.\n      So, in this fleeting earthly time, each man\n    Who orders heedlessly his mortal life\n    Lets a sweet odor, some beguiling wish,\n    Entice him, so that in the eyes of God,\n    The King of glory, his iniquities\n    Make him abhorrent. After death for him\n    The all-accursed devil opens hell--\n    Opens for all who in their folly here\n    Let pleasures of the body overcome\n    Their spirits' guidance. When the wily fiend\n    Into his hold beside the fiery lake\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nwhereupon there issues a ravishing perfume from his inwards, by which\nother kinds of fish are beguiled. With lively motions they swim to where\nthe sweet odor comes forth, and there enter in, a heedless host, until\nthe wide gorge is full; then, in one instant, he snaps his fierce jaws\ntogether about the swarming prey.\n\nThus it is with any one who, in this fleeting time, full oft neglects to\ntake heed to his life, and allows himself to be enticed by sweet\nfragrance, a lying lure, so that he becomes hostile to the King of glory\nby reason of his sins. The accursed one will, when they die, throw wide\nthe doors of hell to those who, in their folly, have wrought the\ntreacherous delights of the body, contrary to the wise guidance of the\nsoul. When the deceiver, skilful in wrongdoing, hath brought into that\nfastness,\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \u00e6t \u00fe\u0101m [_\u0101_]dwylme,    \u00fe\u0101 \u00fee him on cleofia\u00f0,\n    gyltum gehrodene,    and \u01e3r georne his\n75  in hira l\u012bfdagum    l\u0101rum h\u0233rdon,\n    \u00feonne he \u00fe\u0101 grimman    g\u014dman bihlemme\u00f0,\n    \u00e6fter feorhcwale,     f\u00e6ste t\u014dg\u00e6dre,\n    helle hlinduru.    N\u0101gon hwyrft n\u0113 swice,\n    \u016bts\u012b\u00fe \u01e3fre,    \u00fe\u0101 [_\u00fee_] \u00fe\u01e3r in cuma\u00f0,\n80  \u00feon m\u0101 \u00fee \u00fe\u0101 fiscas,    fara\u00f0l\u0101cende,\n    of \u00fe\u00e6s hw\u00e6les fenge    hweorfan m\u014dtan.\n      For\u00feon is eallinga  . . . . . . . . .\n    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n    dryhtna Dryhtne, and \u0101 d\u0113oflum wi\u00f0sace\n85  wordum and weorcum,    \u00fe\u00e6t w\u0113 Wuldorcyning\n    ges\u0113on m\u014dton.    Uton \u0101 sibbe t\u014d him,\n    on \u00fe\u0101s hw\u012blnan t\u012bd,    h\u01e3lu s\u0113can,\n    \u00fe\u00e6t w\u0113 mid sw\u0101 l\u0113ofne    in lofe m\u014dtan\n    t\u014d w\u012bdan feore    wuldres n\u0113otan.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    With evil craft has led those erring ones\n    Who cleave to him, sore laden with their sins,\n    Those who in earthly life have hearkened well\n    To his instruction, after death close shut\n    He snaps those woful jaws, the gates of hell.\n    Whoever enters there has no relief,\n    Nor may he any more escape his doom\n    And thence depart, than can the swimming fish\n    Elude the monster.\n                       Therefore it is [best\n    And[1]] altogether [right for each of us\n    To serve and honor God,[1]] the Lord of lords,\n    And always in our every word and deed\n    To combat devils, that we may at last\n    Behold the King of glory. In this time\n    Of transitory things, then, let us seek\n    Peace and salvation from him, that we may\n    Rejoice for ever in so dear a Lord,\n    And praise his glory everlastingly.\n\n[Footnote 1: Conjecturally supplied.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nthe lake of fire, those that cleave to him and are laden with guilt,\nsuch as had eagerly followed his teachings in the days of their life, he\nthen, after their death, snaps tight together his fierce jaws, the gates\nof hell. They who enter there have neither relief nor escape, no means\nof flight, any more than the fishes that swim the sea can escape from\nthe clutch of the monster.\n\nTherefore is it by all means [best for every one of us to serve[1]] the\nLord of lords, and strive against devils with words and works, that so\nwe may come to behold the King of glory. Let us ever, now in this\nfleeting time, seek from him grace and salvation, that so with the\nBeloved we may in worship enjoy the bliss of heaven for evermore.\n\n[Footnote 1: Conjecturally supplied.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE PARTRIDGE[1]\n\n\n      H\u0233rde ic secgan g\u0113n    bi sumum fugle\n    wundorl\u012bcne[2]. . . . . . . . . . . . .\n    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .\n    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . f\u01e3ger\n    \u00fe\u00e6t word \u00fee gecw\u00e6\u00f0    wuldres Ealdor:\n5   'In sw\u0101 hwylce tiid    sw\u0101 g\u0113 mid tr\u0113owe t\u014d m\u0113\n    on hyge hweorfa\u00f0,    and g\u0113 hellfirena\n    sweartra gesw\u012bca\u00f0,    sw\u0101 ic symle t\u014d \u0113ow\n    mid siblufan    s\u014dna gecyrre\n    \u00feurh milde m\u014dd;    g\u0113 b\u0113o\u00f0 m\u0113 si\u00fe\u00fean\n\n[Footnote 1: The partridge (like the cuckoo) broods the eggs of other\nbirds. When they are hatched and grown, they fly off to their true\nparents. So men may turn from the devil, who has wrongfully gained\npossession of them, to their heavenly Father, who will receive them as\nhis children.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Gap in the manuscript, probably of considerable length.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n      About another creature have I heard\n    A wondrous [tale.] [There is] a bird [men call\n    The partridge. Strange is she, unlike all birds\n    In field or wood who brood upon their eggs,\n    Hatching their young. The partridge lays no eggs,\n    Nor builds a dwelling; but instead, she steals\n    The well-wrought nests of others. There she sits,\n    Warming a stranger brood, until at last\n    The eggs are hatched. But when the stolen chicks\n    Are fledged, they straightway fly away to seek\n    Their proper kin, and leave the partridge there\n    Forsaken. In such wise the devil works\n    To steal the souls of those whose youthful minds\n    Or foolish hearts in vain resist his wiles.\n    But when they reach maturer age, they see\n    They are true children of the Lord of lords.\n    Then they desert the lying fiend, and seek\n    Their rightful Father, who with open arms\n    Receives them, as he long since promised them.[1]]\n      Fair is that word the Lord of glory spoke:\n    'In such time as you turn with faithful hearts\n    To me, and put away your hellish sins,\n    Abominable to me, then will I turn\n    To you in love for ever, for my heart\n    Is mild and gracious. Thenceforth you shall be\n\n[Footnote 1: Conjecturally supplied, on the basis of other versions.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo, too, I have heard tell a wondrous [tale[1]] about a certain bird.[2]\n... fair the word[3] spoken by the King of glory: 'At whatsoever time ye\nturn to me with faith in your soul, and forsake the black iniquities of\nhell, I will turn straightway to you with love, in the gentleness of my\nheart; and thenceforth ye shall be reckoned to\n\n[Footnote 1: Conjecturally supplied.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Gap in the manuscript, probably of considerable length.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Cf. 2 Cor. 6.17,18; Isa. 55.7; Heb. 2.10,11.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n10  torhte, t\u012br\u0113adge,    talade and r\u012bmde,\n    beorhte gebr\u014d\u00feor    on bearna st\u01e3l.'\n      Uton w\u0113 \u00fe\u0233 geornor    Gode \u014dliccan,\n    firene f\u0113ogan,    fri\u00fees earnian,\n    dugu\u00f0e t\u014d Dryhtne,    \u00feenden \u016bs d\u00e6g sc\u012bne,\n15  \u00fe\u00e6t sw\u0101 \u00e6\u00feelne    eardw\u012bca cyst\n    in wuldres wlite    wunian m\u014dtan.\n                                                                  Finit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Refulgent, glorious, numbered with the host\n    Of heaven, and, instead of children, called\n    Bright brethren of the Lord.'\n                                  Let us by this\n    Be taught to please God better, hating sin,\n    And strive to earn salvation from the Lord,\n    His full deliverance, so long as day\n    Shall shine upon us, that we may at last\n    Inhabit heavenly mansions, nobler far\n    Than earthly dwellings, gloriously bright.\n\n                                                                  Finit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nme as glorious and renowned, as my illustrious brethren, yea, in the\nplace of children.'\n\nLet us therefore propitiate God with all zeal, abhor evil, and gain\nforgiveness and salvation from the Lord while for us the day still\nshines, so that thus we may, in glorious beauty, inhabit a dwelling\nexcellent beyond compare. Finit.","title":"The Old English Physiologus","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":4903}