And the hope of heart in his holy hands, 915
Ruler and Redeemer, comfort and consolation
Of the human race. Yours is the promise,
The power and prophecy that will ever prevail,
Granted to everyone who comes to you.”
In that charged moment, Christ the Creator 920
Of all living things was revealed to Andrew
As a blessed youth, beautiful and bright,
The Lord of heaven, speaking these words:
“Hail to you, Andrew, my beloved apostle,
With your faithful followers, your blessed band. 925
I will be your shield and safety, power and protection,
So that these darkly devouring, sinful savages,
Cannot in their unholy cruelty harm your soul.”
The wise warrior fell to the ground
In the face of such glory, praying to his Prince, 930
Supplicating Christ, saying to his Lord:
“Ruler and Redeemer, Savior of souls,
How could I not see with my sinful eyes
Your true nature, riding the waves
On the seafaring wood. Now I can see 935
Your goodness revealed, my Guardian and Guide.
Why did I speak when I should have kept silent?”
Then almighty God answered Andrew:
“You have sinned less in speaking so boldly
On shipboard than in Achaia when you staunchly 940
Declared the distance to Mermedonia impossible
To sail in three days and nights in any craft
After I commanded you to come here
Over the trial and tumult of wind and wave.
Now you know that the craft of Christ 945
Transcends time and that I can move
Any man any place as it pleases me
In my perfect power, my boundless grace.
Now rise up quickly at my command,
Blessed warrior, for God will grant you 950
A precious portion of power and wisdom
To work his will in this terrible trial.
Go down into the city to seek your brother,
Who is held in prison by wicked warriors,
The fiercest fiends. Matthew has been bound 955
By mesh and manacle, wounded by iron,
Bloodied by knives. Know now your task—
Free your beloved brother from the animosity
Of evil foes and free the other strangers,
Foreigners held for trial and torture, 960
None looking forward to their morning meal.
Matthew shall soon find relief from his torment
And receive his reward when he comes into heaven,
As I have promised him in his dark prison.
Now you must go into your enemies’ grasp, 965
Their cruel clutch, and struggle with sinners.
Your body shall be wounded by sword-strokes;
Your blood shall run like gushing streams,
But your evil tormenters will not be able
To divide you with death even as they beat 970
Your broken body, punish you with pain,
Treat you with scorn. Endure this agony—
Do not let the heartless cruelty of heathens,
The slash of swords, or the sting of spears
Cause you to deny or desert your God. 975
Embrace your judgment, your everlasting honor,
Your grace and glory. Let your mind mull over
How many unblessed men mocked and reviled me,
Bound me in pain, scoffed at my suffering,
Scourged my body, cursed my coming. 980
Those sinners offered me the gift of sarcasm,
The ache and agony of sharp wounds and words.
They could not touch the truth with their dark wit.
When in the sight of the Jews, I was raised
On the rood, stretched out on the wood, 985
That tree of torture, the cross of Christ.
One of those cruel warriors wounded me,
Stuck a spear in my side so my blood flowed,
Bright gore onto the ground. My body has met
With endless misery, torture, and torment 990
In my earthly life. In this I’ve provided
A model for you of the suffering and stamina,
Agony and endurance, you will find for yourself
In this foreign land. Here in this city of sin,
You will turn many from terror to truth, 995
From ferocity to faith, from darkness to light,
From heathen habits to heavenly hopes,
Even though they have committed terrible crimes.
All this you will do nobly in my name,
And out of your suffering shall come great glory.” 1000
Then the Holy One, the King of all kings,
Went home to heaven in his humility,
The purest of places, a hallowed home,
A haven for the heart where grace abounds,
And bliss awaits the faithful who can find it. 1005
Then the bold warrior patiently bore his lot
With wisdom and courage. Mighty and mindful,
He would not forget his Lord’s commandment
Or flee from the fight. He was eager and unrelenting
In service to his Savior as he entered the city, 1010
Slipping down the street with a concealed step
So that the sinners could not see his crafty coming.
The Lord had lifted him out of their gaze,
Covering him in a cloak of invisibility and silence.
The noble warrior pressed on toward the prison. 1015
That soldier of Christ saw there a cruel band
Of unholy heathens, seven altogether,
Standing guard outside the prison door.
Death took them without warning, a fierce fate,
Leaving their blood-stained bodies on a hard bed 1020
Of street-stones, locked in endless sleep.
They died without honor, without knowing,
Without seeing the force in the hand of God.
The saint gave thanks to his merciful Father,
Prayed to his Lord, the King of glory, 1025
Praising his goodness, his promise and power.
The prison door burst open at the visitor’s touch—
He was hand in hand with the Holy Spirit.
The bold one strode in, oblivious to the strife
That might be lurking, lusting for his life. 1030
The savages were sleeping, sated with swords,
In an endless unwaking, drunk with blood.
Those sinners had stained that death-house red.
Then Andrew saw his brave brother Matthew,
An innocent alone in that evil chamber, 1035
Praying in a dark corner of his prison cell,
Praising his Lord, the Prince of angels.
The sad-eyed saint suddenly saw his brother,
And his hope was renewed under the heavens.
One saint greeted the other, thanking God 1040
That they had come together at last unharmed
Under the protection of the Lord. They rejoiced,
Two saints under the sun, their hearts as one.
Their faith was renewed, their joy restored.
Each felt the bliss of the other’s embrace, 1045
And both were cherished in the heart of Christ.
The saints were surrounded by a radiant light,
And their rapturous spirits surged with joy.
Then Andrew greeted his God-fearing brother,
Telling him of the battles won and those to come: 1050
“These people are all eager to [flee this prison
* * *
And now that I have unblinded all of your eyes,
Healed these prisoners, fulfilling my fate,
&nbs
p; Accomplished this] act, let’s all go home.”
After these words, the glorious disciples, 1055
Heroes under heaven, boldest of brothers,
Bent down to pray to the Son of God.
Then the holy Andrew prayed to the Lord
For strength and courage in the trials to come
Before his body fell to the savage fiends. 1060
Then he let loose the limb-locks, the biting shackles
Of many prisoners, some two hundred forty
Who fled from that death-fortress to the Lord’s
Peace and protection. He also released
Forty-nine women, freed from fear. 1065
Everyone fled—not a soul was left behind,
Bound in chains. No one wanted to linger
In that house of sorrow to share its doom.
Then Matthew left, leading the company
Of liberated prisoners and devoted disciples, 1070
As he’d been commanded by the holy one.
They were all wrapped in a wondrous cloud,
A secret shelter to protect the travelers
Against the onslaught of heathen arrows,
The sharp death-stings of those evil savages. 1075
The comrades in courage, friends in faith,
Conferred in a council before they parted.
Each confirmed to the other his hope of heaven,
Warding off with words the torments of hell.
So the brave-hearted warriors, the soldiers of God, 1080
Worshipped together their Creator and King,
Offering him praise with their holy voices,
Accepting their lot from the almighty Wielder
Of everything created and everything to come,
Whose glory among men will never end. 1085
Then Andrew returned glad-hearted to the city,
Where he heard that a heathen host was gathered,
Aliens and outcasts, fiendish foes.
Along the road he came to a pillar of brass
And sat down beside it. He held in his heart 1090
A pure love and an uplifting awareness of angels.
He waited serenely inside the city walls
To see what battle-glory God might give.
The unholy heathens gathered in throngs,
A crowd of cruelty, a crush of terror. 1095
The evil leaders came with their devouring disciples,
Armed to the teeth. Those crafty cannibals
Came to the prison expecting breakfast,
An unholy meal of human flesh,
The bone and sinew of a savage feast. 1100
What the spear-warriors found then at the door
Of the prison death-house was not a welcome hand
But broken locks and bloodied bodies,
The freedom of their foes and a collection of corpses.
They returned to the city-center, grim and ungorged, 1105
Bearing bad news to a menace of war-men.
They reported that no foreigners had been found
Alive and bound, those aliens with strange speech,
But that the guards lay lifeless on the cold ground,
Soaked with blood, slashed in the flesh, 1110
Their bone-houses empty, their spirits stolen.
Grim death was those jailers’ dark doom.
Sadly, their morning meal was missing.
Then the heathen leaders began to tremble
At an unseen terror which eclipsed their own, 1115
As two livid guests sat down at their table—
Fear and hunger, unholy devourers,
Harbingers of death. The people pondered
Their dire fate. What could they do?
The meal was missing, the guards were gutted. 1120
Could they feed off the flesh of their own dead?
Inside of an hour the council of cannibals
Decided to devour their kith and kin,
And the mob descended on the prison steps
To lift their loved ones from the slaughter-bed. 1125
Soon the hungry heathens needed more bodies,
So all the citizens were quickly summoned.
Spear-proud warriors came to the council,
Riding their horses, the fiercest fighters.
The sorcerers cast lots to see which men 1130
Might be summoned to the table, not to talk
But to serve as the next treat—edible flesh.
The first lot fell to a great leader,
An adviser of earls, a chief in the army.
The brave-hearted man was bound in chains 1135
And began to shout in a warrior’s wail
That he would sacrifice his own small son
As a delicacy for devourers to save his life.
The savages accepted his lifesaving offer,
Looked forward to tasting that tender treat. 1140
The heathens were hungry, so gold was no good
To bargain for a life. A forkful of flesh
Was much better than the hard taste of treasure.
Many were greedy to gorge on that youth,
For hunger was now lord of that land. 1145
The story spread quickly throughout the city
That soldiers were looking for the sacrificial boy
To fill their bellies and sustain their strength—
They would each receive a share of his body.
The heathen guardians of the unholy temple 1150
Gathered a mob to bring the child in.
Then the boy began to lament before the crowd,
Cut off entirely from his family and friends.
He sang for mercy but was only seen
As articulate meat. The gobblers offered 1155
No human understanding, no holy respect
For life and limb, for spirit or soul.
The heathens heard him cry out for compassion,
But all they wanted was his heart on a platter.
These monsters knew nothing of mercy— 1160
They trusted the sword’s edge, the knife’s knowing.
The council of cannibals had made its decision—
All the savages wanted was a slice of life.
They called for a hard-tempered sword,
A bold blade tested in the storm of battle. 1165
This seemed to Andrew an outrageous act
Of appalling evil, impossible to endure,
That an innocent boy should be bound and slaughtered.
The heathens’ hostility and infectious hatred
Were hard to bear. The hot-hearted hordes 1170
Trembled with hunger, eager and motivated,
Bent on murder. They lusted for meat.
They wanted to bash in the boy’s brain-house
And reach for his heart with sharp spears,
But holy God protected him from heaven, 1175
Melting their murderous knives and swords
Like warm wax, so his monstrous kinsmen
Could not kill him with their baleful blades.
Then the boy was freed from his dark fear
Of being unfleshed, carved to the bone. 1180
Give thanks to God, the Lord of lords,
Who offers judgment and generosity to all
Who wisely seek his aid. He answers the innocent
And holds out hope to the faithful who can find it.
Then lamentation and mourning were heard in the land. 1185
Heralds announced a great hunger. Men went meatless,
And famine stalked the savages. Grim desolation
Hunkered down in the high-gabled meadhalls.
All wealth was wasted, all sinful celebration
Lost to despair, all food was foul. 1190
No one could savor the taste of emptiness.
Clever men held council, their cunning uncrafted.
They took no pleasure in the land of their birth.
One warrior would often say to another:
“Whoever has wisdom, let him not hide it now— 1195
Calamity broods like a merciless monster
Over this luckless and unloved land.”
Then a devil appeared before those people,
Dusky and unbeautiful as a dark dread.
He was evil incarnate. Even among cannibals 1200
He was the great devourer—he hungered for souls.
Then the lord of hell, the crafter of crimes
Who fell from heaven, crippled in spirit,
Twisted in purpose, perverse in heart,
Began to denounce the saintly man 1205
With subtle guile, saying these words:
“I hear there’s a man who thinks he’s a hero
Who has come into this land uninvited,
An alien called Andrew. This so-called lord
Harmed you severely when he let loose 1210
Countless criminals from your guarded prison,
Undermining justice and destroying your dinner.
Now is the hour of vengeance upon him.
Let sword-slash and spear-point,
The hard edge of iron, cleave his bone-house, 1215
Separate his soul from his bloody body,
Liberating his spirit and leaving his corpse
To hungry warriors. You deserve this feast.
Go boldly to crush this foreigner in battle.”
Then Andrew immediately answered the devil: 1220
“How rashly and shamelessly you incite these people,
Goading them into an unwise conflict.
You urge them toward danger, knowing their doom,
Since you have suffered torture and torment,
The hot flames of hell. Your hatred and hostility 1225
Toward almighty God caused you to rebel
With that devilish host, those fallen angels,
Who gave up grace and a homeland in heaven.
Now you are nothing but an unholy weapon,
The edge of evil, the sword of undoing. 1230
There is no mercy in your gift of misery.
The King of kings thrust you into darkness,
Chained you in hell, where you are now known
As Satan by those who love the Lord of lords
And follow faithfully his righteous law.” 1235
Still the perverse prince of hell urged the people
With fiendish guile to fight, saying:
“Now you listen to the outcast and alien
Who has unrightly cut loose your criminals
And destroyed your dinner. Kill this outlaw, 1240
This foul fiend who calls himself Andrew
And accuses me with his artful words.”
Then a signal was sent to the citizens of the city.
Warriors thrust forward, the crowd cried out,
Eager for killing with their swords and spears, 1245
The Complete Old English Poems Page 31