The Old English Physiologus | Page 3

woodland fruit, more
excellent

it. Kind, attractive, and friendly, he has no thought of doing harm to
any save the envenomed foe, his ancient adversary of whom I spoke.
When, delighting in a feast, he has partaken of food, ever at the end of
the meal he betakes himself to his resting-place, a hidden retreat among
the mountain-caves; there the champion of his race, overcome by sleep,
abandons himself to slumber for the space of three nights. Then the
dauntless one, replenished with vigor, straightway arises from sleep
when the third day has come. A melody, the most ravishing of strains,
flows from the wild beast's mouth; and, following the music, there
issues a fragrance from the place--a fume more transporting, sweet, and
strong than any odor whatever, than blossoms of plants or fruits of the
forest, choicer

Þonne of ceastrum and cynest[=o]lum
50 and of burgsalum
beornþr[=e]at monig
farað foldwegum folca þr[=y]þum;
[=e]oredcystum, ofestum
gef[=y]sde,
dareðl[=a]cende --d[=e]or [s]w[=a] some--
æfter
þ[=æ]re stefne on þone stenc farað.
55 Sw[=a] is Dryhten God,
dr[=e]ama R[=æ]dend,
eallum [=e]aðm[=e]de [=o]þrum gesceaftum,
duguða gehwylcre,
b[=u]tan dracan [=a]num,
[=a]ttres ordfruman-- þæt is se ealda
f[=e]ond
þone h[=e] ges[=æ]lde in s[=u]sla grund,
60 and gefetrade
f[=y]rnum t[=e]agum,
biþeahte þr[=e]an[=y]dum; and þ[=y] þriddan dæge
of d[=i]gle
[=a]r[=a]s, þæs þe h[=e] d[=e]að fore [=u]s þr[=e]o niht þolade,
Þ[=e]oden engla,
sigora Sellend. Þæt wæs sw[=e]te stenc,
65 wlitig
and wynsum, geond woruld ealle.
Siþþan t[=o] þ[=a]m swicce s[=o]ðfæste men,

Than all this world's adornments. Then from town
And palace, then
from castle-hall, come forth
Along the roads great troops of hurrying
men--
The very beasts come also; all press on
Toward that sweet
odor, when the voice is stilled.
Such as this creature is the Lord our
God,
Giver of joys, to all creation kind,
To men benignant, save
alone to him,
The dragon, author of all wickedness,
Satan, the
ancient adversary whom,
Fettered with fire, shackled with dire
constraint,
Into the pit of torments God cast down.
The third day
Christ arose from out the grave,
For three nights having suffered
death for us,
He, Lord of angels, he in whom alone
Is hope of
overcoming. Far and wide
The tidings spread, like perfume fresh and
sweet,
Through all the world. Then to that fragrance thronged

than aught that clothes the earth with beauty. Thereupon from cities,
courts, and castle-halls many companies of heroes flock along the
highways of earth; the wielders of the spear press forward in hurrying
throngs to that perfume--and so also do animals--when once the music
has ceased.
Even so the Lord God, the Giver of joy, is gracious to all creatures, to
every order of them, save only the dragon, the source of venom, that
ancient enemy whom he bound in the abyss of torments; shackling him
with fiery fetters, and loading him with dire constraints, he arose from
darkness on the third day after he, the Lord of angels, the Bestower of
victory, had for three nights endured death on our behalf. That was a
sweet perfume throughout the world, winsome and entrancing.
Henceforth,

on healfa gehwone, h[=e]apum þrungon
geond ealne ymbhwyrft
eorþan sc[=e]at[a].
Sw[=a] se snottra gecwæð Sanctus Paulus:
70
'Monigfealde sind geond middangeard

g[=o]d ungn[=y]ðe þe [=u]s t[=o] giefe d[=æ]leð
and t[=o] feorhnere
Fæder ælmihtig,
and se [=a]nga Hyht ealra gesceafta
uppe ge niþre.'
Þæt is æþele stenc.

From every side all men whose hearts were true,
Throughout the
regions of the circled earth.
Thus spoke the wise St. Paul: 'In all the
world
His gifts are many, which he gives to us
For our salvation
with unstinting hand,
Almighty Father, he, the only Hope
Of all in
heaven or here below on earth.'
This is that noble fragrance, rare and
sweet,
Which draws all men to seek it from afar.

through the whole extent of earth's regions, righteous men have
streamed in multitudes from every side to that fragrance. As said the
wise St. Paul: 'Manifold over the world are the lavish bounties which
the Father almighty, the Hope of all creatures above and below,
bestows on us as grace and salvation.' That, too, is a sweet odor.
II
THE WHALE (ASP-TURTLE)
N[=u] ic fitte g[=e]n ymb fisca cynn
wille w[=o]ðcræfte wordum
c[=y]þan
þurh m[=o]dgemynd, bi þ[=a]m miclan hwale.
S[=e] bið
unwillum oft gem[=e]ted,
5 fr[=e]cne and fer[_h_]ðgrim,
fareðl[=a]cendum,
niþþa gehwylcum; þ[=a]m is noma cenned,
fyr[ge]nstr[=e]ama
geflotan, Fastitocalon.
Is þæs h[=i]w gel[=i]c hr[=e]ofum st[=a]ne,

swylce w[=o]rie bi wædes [=o]fre,
10 sondbeorgum ymbseald,
s[=æ]r[=y]rica m[=æ]st,
sw[=a] þæt w[=e]naþ w[=æ]gl[=i]þende
þæt h[=y] on [=e]alond sum
[=e]agum wl[=i]ten;
and þonne geh[=y]d[_i_]að h[=e]ahstefn scipu


t[=o] þ[=a]m unlonde oncyrr[=a]pum,
15 s[_[=æ]_]laþ s[=æ]mearas
sundes æt ende,

Now will I spur again my wit, and use
Poetic skill to weave words
into song,
Telling of one among the race of fish,
The great
asp-turtle. Men who sail the sea
Often unwillingly encounter him,

Dread preyer on mankind. His name we know,
The ocean-swimmer,
Fastitocalon.
Dun, like rough stone in color, as he floats
He seems a
heaving bank of reedy grass
Along the shore, with rolling dunes
behind,
So that sea-wanderers deem their gaze has found
An island.
Boldly then their high-prowed ships
They moor with cables to that
shore,