not then stand longer firm on his feet, but he looked to heaven: “I thank Thee, Ruler of nations, for all the joys that I have had in the world; now, merciful Maker, I have the greatest need that Thou grant my spirit the blessing that my soul may journey to Thee, into Thy power, Prince of Angels, may go with peace; I entreat Thee that the hell-scathers may not bring me low." Then the heathen knaves hewed him to pieces and both the heroes that stood by him: Elfnoth and Wulmær both lay dead, who gave their lives along with their lord. Then those bent from the battle who would not be there. There were Odda's sons first in flight: Godric went from the war, and left the good man who had often given him many a horse; he leaped on the horse that his lord owned, on the trappings that he had no right to; and his brothers with him both galloped away, Godrine and Godwig, cared not for the war, but turned from the fight and sought the wood, fled to the fastness and covered their lives; and more men than was anywise fitting if they had remembered all the worthy things that he had done for their help-as Offa said to him before, one day, in the meeting-place when he had an assembly, that many spoke bravely there who again at need would not hold out. Then was the prince of the folk fallen, Ethelred's earl; all the hearth-sharers saw that their lord lay dead. Then proud thanes went forth there, men that were no cowards hastened eagerly they all wanted one of two things, to let go life or avenge the dear one. So Elfric's son urged them forth, a warrior young in winters-Elfwine uttered words, said then (he spoke with strength): "Remember the times that we often spoke at mead, when we raised the boast on the bench, heroes in hall, about hard battle. Now may we try who is bold. I will make known to all my noble line, that I was of great kindred among the Mercians-my grandfather was named Ealhelm, a wise alderman, worldly blessed. Thanes in that nation shall not twit me with being willing to go from this campaign and seek my home, now that my prince lies hewn down in battle. That is the greatest of griefs to me: he was both my kinsman and my lord." Then he went forth, remembered the feud, and with his spear-point reached one sailor among the folk so that he lay on the ground, brought down with his weapon. Then he began to exhort his comrades, his friends and companions, that they should go forth. Offa spoke, shook his ashen spear-shaft: "Lo thou, Elfwine, hast exhorted all, the thanes at need. Now our chief lies low, our earl on the earth, there is need for us all that each of us hearten the other warrior to war, while he may have and hold a weapon, hard blade, spear and good sword. Godric, cowardly son of Odda, has betrayed us all: too many men thought, when he rode on the horse, on that proud steed, that it was our lord. Therefore the folk here on the field were separated, the shield-fortress was broken: may his beginning fail, that he put so many men here to flight." Leofsunu spoke, and raised his linden shield, his board for a cover; he said to the hero: "I promise that I will not flee hence one footstep, but I will go further, avenge my friend-lord in fight. Stedfast warriors about Stourmere need not twit me with words, now my friend has fallen, that I make my way home lordless, turn from the war; but a weapon shall take me, spearpoint and iron." He went full ireful, fought firmly-he scorned flight. Then Dunnere spoke, shook his javelin; an old man, he called out over all, bade that every hero avenge Byrhtnoth: "Never may he waver nor care for life who thinks to avenge his lord among the folk." Then they went forth; they recked not of life. The retainers began to fight hard, raging spear-bearers, and prayed God that they might take vengeance for their friend-lord, and work slaughter upon their foes. The hostage began eagerly to help them; he was of hardy kin among the Northumbrians, Ecglaf's son-his name was Escferth: he never wavered at the war-play, but sent forth an arrow often; sometimes he shot on a shield, sometimes wounded a man; ever from time to time he gave some one a wound, while he might wield weapons. Then still in front stood Edward the long, ready and eager; he spoke boasting words, that he would not flee a foot-measure of land, give back while his better lay dead: he broke the shield-wall and fought against the men till he had worthily avenged his treasure-giver upon the seamen, ere he lay dead on the field. So did Ætheric, a noble comrade, ready and eager to go on; earnestly he fought, Sibyrht's brother and very many others clove the hollow shield, made bold defense; the shield's border burst, and the burny sang a griesly song. Then in the war Offa smote a sea-farer so that he fell on the earth, and there Gad's kinsman sought the ground: quickly was Offa hewn down in the battle. Yet he had fulfilled what he promised his lord, as he boasted before to his ring-giver, that they should both ride into the burg, whole to their home, or fall in the army, die of wounds on the slaughter-field: he lay, thanelike, close by his chief. Then was a breaking of shields; seamen came on, enraged by war; often a spear went through a doomed man's life-house. Forth then went Wistan, Thurstan's son, fought against the men; he was, in the throng, slayer of three of them ere he, Wigelin's child, lay dead on the field. There was stern meeting: warriors stood fast in the fight, and warring fell, weary with wounds; the slain fell upon the earth. Oswold and Ealdwold all the while, both the brothers, heartened the men, in words bade their friends and kinsmen that they should endure there at need, use their weapons stoutly. Byrhtwold spoke, held up his shield (he was an old comrade), shook his ash, and full boldly gave the men counsel: "The mind shall be the harder, heart the bolder, courage the greater, as our might lessens. Here lies our prince all forhewn, a good man on the ground; forever may he mourn who thinks now to turn from this war-play. I am old in life: I will not go from here, but I mean to lie beside my lord, by a man so dear." Likewise Ethelgar's son Godric strengthened them all to the war: often he let fly a dart, a slaughter-spear upon the Vikings, as he went foremost among the folk, hewed and laid low, till he fell in battle; that was not the Godric that turned from the war. EARLY MIDDLE ENGLISH POEMS FROM POEMA MORALE Ich am eldre than ich wes, a winter and ek on lore; 5 ΙΟ The muchel foleweth his wil, him seolve he bi-swiketh. Ne may ich bi-seo me bi-fore, for smoke ne for myste. We the breketh Godes has, and gulteth swo ilome, Hwat sulle we seggen other don ate muchele dome? We the luveden unriht and evel lif ladden, 15 20 25 30 Hwat sulle we seggen other don thar ængles beth ofdradde? 35 Al heo habbeth in heore wryte that we mysduden here; Understondeth nu to me, edye men and arme: 40 Ich wille ou telle of helle pyne, and warny of harme. Theos pyne tholieth ther that were mete-nythinges here. Ho vareth from hete to chele, from chele to thar hete; Hwenne heo cumeth in hete, the chele heom thincheth blysse; Thenne heo cumeth eft to chele, of hete heo habbeth 45 mysse. Thar is fur an hundred-folde hatture thane be ure; Ne may hit quenche no salt water, ne Avene streme ne Sture. That is thet fur that ever barnth, ne may hit nomon quenche. 50 Thar-inne beoth theo that her wes leof povre men to swenche; Theo that were swikelemen and ful of uvele wrenche; And theo that ne myhte uvele do, and was hit leof to thenche: Theo that luved reving and stale and hordom and drunken, And on deoveles werke blutheliche swunken. 55 Ne may no pyne ne no wone beon in heovene riche, Thah ther beon wonynges feole and other unyliche: Summe habbeth lasse murehthe, and summe habbeth more, Uych after that he dude her and after that heo swunken sore. Ne wrth ther bred ne wyn ne nones kunnes este: God one schal beon eche lif and blisse [and] eche reste. Ther nys nouther fou ne grey ne konyng ne hermyne, Ne oter ne acquerne, bever ne sablyne, 60 Ne ther ne wurth ful iwis worldes wele none: Hwo may thider cume and nule, hit schal hym sore of- Ther is blysse bute teone, and lif with-ute dethe: About 1170. FROM THE BRUT (BY LAYAMON) Under than com tydinge That over see weren icome Swithe selliche gomes. Threo sipes gode I-come were mid than flode; Thar-on threo hundred cnihtes 5 |