# The Sources of Standard English/Chapter VII - Twelve Hundred Years of English

CHAPTER VII.
twelve hundred years of english.
I.
Runes on the Ruthwell Cross, of about the year 680.
| (On-) geredæ hinæ God almeyottig þa he walde on galgu gi-stiga modig fore (ale) men . . . . . | Girded him God almighty when he would on gallows mount proud for all men . . . . |
| (ahof) ic riicnæ cuningc heafunæs hlafard hælda ic (n)i darstæ bismærædu ungcet men ba ætgad(r)e ic (wæs) miþ blodse bistemid . . . . . | I heaved the rich king heaven's lord heel (over) I durst not men mocked us both to­gether. I was with blood besmeared . . . . . |
| Krist wæs on rodi hweþræ þer fusæ fearran kwomu æþþilæ ti lanum ic þæt al bi(h)eal(d) s(are) ic wæs mi(þ) sorgu(m) gi(d)æ(fe)d . . . . . | Christ was on rood but there hurriedly From afar they came the Prince to aid I beheld all that sore I was with sorrows harrowed . . . . . |
| miþ strelum giwundæd | with arrows wounded |
| alegdun hiæ hinæ limwæ­rignæ | they laid him down limb-weary |
| gistoddun him (æt) h(is l)i­cæs (h)eaf(du)m | they stood at his corpse's head |
II.
Manuscript of the year 737, containing lines by Cadmon.
| Nu scylun hergan hefaen ricaes uard metudæs mæcti end his mod gidanc uerc uuldur fadur sue he uundra gihuaes eci drictin or astelidæ He ærist scop elda barnum heben til hrofe haleg scepen tha middun geard mon cynnæs uard eci dryctin æfter tiadæ firum foldu frea allmectig. | Now must we praise heaven kingdom's Warden the Creator's might and his mind's thought glorious Father of men as he of each wonder eternal Lord formed the beginning He erst shaped for earth's bairns heaven as a roof holy Shaper then mid-earth mankind's Warden eternal Lord afterwards produced for men the earth Lord Almighty. |
III.
The Eighth Psalm, from the Northumbrian Psalter, Compiled about the Year 800.
Dryht', dryht' ur, hu wundurlic is noma ðin in alre eorðan, for-ðon up-ahefen is micelnis ðin ofer heofenas, of mutðe cilda and milc-deondra ðu ge-fremedes lof. fore feondum ðinum, ðæt ðu to-weorpe feond and ge­scildend. for-ðon ic ge-sie heofenas were fingra ðinra, monan and steorran ða ðu ge-steaðulades. hwet is mon ðæt ge-myndig ðu sie his, oððe sunu monnes for-ðon ðu neosas hine? ðu ge-wonedes hine hwoene laessan from englum, mid wuldre and mid are ðu ge-begades hine, and ge-settes hine ofer were honda ðinra: all ðu under-deodes under fotum his, scep and oxan all ec ðon and netenu feldes, fuglas heofenes and fiscas saes, ða geond-gað stige saes Dryht,' dryht', ur, hu wundurlic is noma ðin in alre eorðan.
IV.
The Rushworth Gospels, a.d. 900.
St. Matthew, Chap. ii.
1. Þa soþlice akenned wæs Hælend Iudeana in dagum Erodes þæs kyninges, henu tungul-kræftgu eastan quo­mon in Hierosolimam, 2. cweþende, hwær is seþe akenned is kining Iudeana? we gesegon soþlice steorra his in east-dæle and cnomon to gebiddenne to him. 3. þæt þa ​geherde, soþlice Herodes king wæs gedroefed in mode and ealle Hierosolima mid hine. 4. . . . . ealle aldur­sacerdos, bokeras þæs folkes, ahsade heom hwær Krist wære akenned. 5. hiæ þa cwædon, in Bethlem Iudeana, swa soþlice awriten þurh witgu, cwæþende. 6. . . . . nænigþinga læs-æst eart aldormonnum Iuda, of þe soþlice gæþ latteuw seþe ræccet Israhæl. 7. Herodes dernunga acægde tungul-kræftgum and georne geliornade æt þa tid þæs æteawde him steorra. 8. sondende heom to Bethlem cwæþ, gæþ ahsiað georne bi þem cnæhte þanne ge gemoeteþ hine sæcgað eft, þæt ic swilce cymende gebidde to him. 9. þa hie þa . . . . ðæs kyninges word eodun þonan, henu þe steorra þe hiæ ær gesægon east-dæle fore-eade hiæ oþþæt be cumende bufan ðær se cneht . . . . 10. hie geseænde soþlice steorran gefegon. gefea miccle swiþe. 11. ingangende þæt hus gemoettun þone cneht mid . . . forþfallende gebedun to him . . . ontynden heora gold-hord brohtun lac recils murra. 12. andsuari onfengon slepe, hiæ ne cerdun . . . þurh wege gewendun to heora londe.
V.
The Lindisfarne Gospels, a.d. 970.
parable of the ten virgins — St. Matthew xxv.
1. Ðonne gelic bið ric heofna tewm hehstaldun, ða onfengon leht-fato heora ge-eodun ongeæn ðæm brydgama and ðær bryde. 2. fifo uutetlice of ðæm weron idlo and fifo hogofæste. 3. ah fifo idlo gefengon leht-fato ne genomun oele mið him. 4. hogofæste ​uutetlice onfengon oele in fetelsum hiora mið leht-fatum. 5. suigo uutetlice dyde ðe brydgum geslepedon alle and geslepdon. 6. middum uutetlice næht lydeng geworden wæs: heonu brydguma cwom, gæs ongæn him. 7. ða arioson alle hehstalde ða ilco, and gehrindon leht-fato hiora. 8, idlo uutetlice ðæm snotrum cuoedon: seles us of ole iuerre, forðon leht-fato usræ gedrysned biðon. 9. geonduordon hogo cuoeðendo: eaðe mæg ne noh is us and iuh, gaas gewelgad to ðæm bibycendum and bygeð iuh. 10. miððy uutetlice geeodon to bycganne, cuom ðe brydgnma and ða ðe . . . . weron innfoerdon mið him to brydloppum and getyned wæs ðe dura. 11. hlætmesto cwomon and ða oðro hehstaldo cueðendo: drihten, drihten, uutyn us. 12. soð he onduearde cueð: soðlice ic cuoeðo iuh, nat ic iuih. 13. wæccas forðon, forðon nuuto gie ðone dæge ne þone tid.
VI.
(About A.D. 1090.)
the finding of st. edmund's head.
Hwæt þa, ðe flot-here ferde þa eft to scipe, and
  What then fleet-armament fared then again   ship behyddon þæt heafod þæs halgan Eadmundes on þam
  hid   the   head     holy ðiccum bremlum, þæt bit biburiged ne wurde. Þa
  thick   brambles       buried   should not be. ​ æfter fyrste, syððan heo ifarene wæron, com þæt lond-­
    a time   after   they   gone folc tó, þe þær to lafe þa w’æs, þær heoræ lafordes lic
        left       their     lord's corpse buton heafde þa læg, and wurdon swiðe sarig for his without   head   lay     were   right   sorry slægie on mode, and hure þæt heo næfdon þæt heafod to slaughter   mind   moreover     had not þam bodige. Þa sæde ðe sceawere, þe hit ær iseah, þæt
            beholder     erst   saw þa flot-men hæfdon þæt heafod mid heom, and wæs him
              with   them     to him it iþuht, swa swa hit wæs ful soð, þæt heo hydden þæt seemed   as         true heofod on þam holte. For-hwæga heo eoden þa endemes
          However     went     at last alle to þam wude, sæcende gehwær, geond þyfelas and
            every where   through   shrubs brymelas, gif heo mihten imeten þæt heafod. Wæs eac
      if         meet           eke mycel wunder þæt an wulf wæs isend, þurh Godes willunge, to biwærigenne þæt heafod, wið þa oðre deór,
        guard         against     beasts ofer dæg and niht. Heo eoden ða sæcende, and
    day   cleopigende, swa swa hit iwunelic is þæt ða þe on wude
  calling         customary   those that gaþ oft: ‘Hwær eart þu nu gerefa?’ And him and-­
go           governor swyrde þæt heafod: ‘Her, her, her.’ And swa ilome
                  so   often clypode andswarigende, oððet heo alle bicomen, þurh
            until       came þa clypunge, him tó. Þa læg þe grægæ wulf þe bewiste
                gray       guarded þæt heafod, ant mid his twam fotum hæfde þæt heafod
            two   feet ​ biclypped, gredig and hnngrig, and for Gode ne dyrste
  clasped þæs hæfdes onburigen, ac heold hit wið deor. Ða
        taste   but   held wurdon heo ofwundroden þæs wulfes hordrædene, and
  became     amazed at       guardianship þæt halige heafod hám feroden mid heom, þankende
        home   carried þam Almihtigan alre his wundræ. Ac þe wulf fologede
        for all forð mid þam heafde, oððet heo on túne comen, swylce
                town       as if he tome wære, and wende æft syððan to wude ongean.
  tame                   again Ða lond-leodan þa sytððan lægdan þæt heafod to þam
    land-folk halige bodige, and burigdon, swa swa heo lihtlucost
                    easiest mihten on swylce rædinge, and cyrce arærdon onuppon
      such   haste     a kirk   reared him.
VII.
(A.D. 1220.)
ancren riwle (Camden Society), 388.
A lefdi was þet was mid hire voan biset al abuten,
  lady           foes and hire lond al destrued, and heo al poure, wiðinnen
              she   poor ​ one eorðene castle. On mihti kinges luve was þauh bi-­
  an   earthen     A           however turnd upon hire, so unimete swuðe þet he vor wouh-­
          boundless   very       wooing lecchunge sende hire his sonden, on efter oðer, and ofte
          messengers, one somed monie: and sende hire beaubelet boðe veole and at once             jewels     many feire, and sukurs of liveneð, and help of his heie hird to
      supplies   victuals           army holden hire castel. Heo underveng al ase on unrec-
            received       careless heleas þing þet was so herd iheorted þet hire luve ne
            hard-hearted mihte he never beon þe neorre. Hwat wult tu more?
            nearer He com himsulf a last, and scheawede hire his feire
        at neb, ase þe þet was of alle men veirest to biholden, and face     one spec swuðe sweteliche and so murie wordes þet heo spake             pleasant       they muhten þe deade arearen vrom deaðe to live. And
  might wrouhte veole wundres, and dude veole meistries bivo-­
              did     great works ren hire eihsihðe, and scheawede hire his mihten: tolde hire of his kinedome, and bead for to makien hire cwene
            offered of al þet he ouhte. Al þis ne help nout. Nes þis
      owned     helped nought Was not this wunderlich hoker? Vor heo nes never wurðe vorte
      disdain             to been his schelchine. Auh so, þuruh his debonerté, luve
      scullion   But hefde overkumen hine þet he seide on ende, ‘Dame, þu
had       him         at last ​ ert iweorred, and þine von beoð so stronge þet tu ne
  assailed       foes meiht nonesweis, wiðuten sukurs af me, etfleon hore
    in no way             escape   their honden, þet heo ne don þe to scheomefule deað. Ich
      they chulle vor þe luve of þe nimen þis fiht upon me, and
  shall         take aredden þe of ham þet schecheð þine deað. Ich wot
  rid     them þauh for soðe þet ich schal bitweonen ham undervongen
          must deaðes wunde, and ich hit wulle heorteliche vorto ofgon
                      win þine heorte. Nu, þeonne, biseche ich þe, vor þe luve þet
        then ich kuðe þe, þet tu luvie me, hure and hure, efter þen
  show             at least ilke dead deaðe, hwon þu noldes lives. Þes king same       since   wouldst not in my life dude al þus, aredde hire of alle hire von, and was him-­ sulf to wundre ituked, and isleien on ende. Þuruh
        injured     slain miracle þauh he aros from deaðe to live. Nere þeos
                  Would not be ilke lefdi of vuele kunnes kunde, ʓif heo over alle þing
      evil   nature   sprung ne luve him her efter? Þes king is Jesu Crist, Godes sune, þet al o þisse wise wowude ure soule, þet þe deoflen heveden biset. And
  wooed   our         devils he, ase noble woware, efter monie messagers, and feole
                      many god deden, com vorto preoven his luve, and scheawede
            prove þuruh knihtschipe þet he was luve-wurde, ase weren
                worthy ​ sumewhule knihtes iwuned for to donne. He dude him
  sometimes       wont     do     placed ine turnement, and hefde vor his leofmonnes luve his
                lady's schelde ine vihte, ase kene kniht, on everiche half
                    side i-þurled. Þis scheld þet wreih his Godhed was his leove
  pierced         covered           dear licome þet was ispred o rode, brod ase scheld buven in
  body                   above his i-streiht earmes, and neruh bineoðen, ase þe on vot,
  stretched       narrow         one foot efter þet me weneð, sete upon þe oðer vote. . . . Efter according to supposition kene knihtes deaðe me hongeð heie ine chirche his.
          men   hang schelde on his munegunge. Al so is þis scheld, þet is,
        remembrance þet crucifix iset ine chirche, ine swuche stude þet me hit
                such   place sonest iseo, vorto þenchen þerbi o Jesu Cristes kniht-­
    may see schipe þet he dude o rode.
VIII.
(A.D. 1356.)
sir john mandeville.
For als moche as it is longe tyme passed, that ther was no generalle passage ne vyage over the see; and many men desiren for to here speke of the holy lond, and han therof gret solace and comfort; I John Maundevylle, Knyght, alle be it I be not worthi, that ​was born in Englond, in the town of Seynt Albones, passede the see, in the yeer of our Lord Jhesu Crist mcccxxii., in the day of Seynt Michelle; and hidre to have ben longe tyme over the see, and have seyn and gon thorghe manye dyverse londes, and many provynces and kingdomes and iles; and have passed thorghout Turkye, Tartarye, Percye, Surrye, Arabye, Egypt the highe and the lowe, Ermonye the litylle and the grete; thorgh Lybye, Caldee, and a gret partie of Ethiope; thorgh Amazoyne, Inde the lasse and the more, a gret partie; and thorgh out many othere iles, that ben abonten Inde; where dwellen many dyverse folkes, and of dyverse maneres and lawes, and of dyverse schappes of men. Of whiche londes and iles I schalle speke more pleynly hereaftre. And I schal devise ʓou sum partie of thinges that there ben, whan time schalle ben, aftre it may best come to my mynde; and specyally for hem, that wylle and are in purpos for to visite the holy citee of Jerusalem, and the holy places that are thereaboute. And I schalle telle the weye, that thei schalle holden thidre. For I have often tymes passed and ryden the way, with gode companye of many lordes: God be thonked.
And ʓee schulle undirstonde, that I have put this boke out of Latyn into Frensch, and translated it aʓen out of Frensche into Englyssch, that every man of my nacioun may undirstonde it.
But lordes and knyghtes and othere noble and worthi men, that conne Latyn but lityle, and han ben beʓonde the see, knowen and undirstonden, ʓif I seye trouthe or no, and ʓif I erre in devisynge, for forʓetynge, or elles; ​that thei mowe redresse it and amende it. For thinges passed out of longe tyme from a mannes mynde or from his syght, turnen sone into forʓetynge; because that mynde of man ne may not ben comprehended ne with­holden, for the freeltie of mankynde.
IX.
Bishop Pecock, Repressor of over much Blaming of the Clergy, Vol. I. 86.
(About A.D. 1450.)
evils of private judgment in religion.
Certis in this wise and in this now seid manor and bi this now seid cause bifille the rewful and wepeable de­struccioun of the worthi citee and universite of Prage, and of the hoole rewme of Beeme, as y have had ther of enformacioun ynouʓ. And now, aftir the destruccioun of the rewme, the peple ben glad for to resorte and turne aʓen into the catholik and general faith and loore of the chirche, and in her pouerte bildith up aʓen what was brent and throwun doun, and noon of her holdingis can thrive. But for that Crist in his prophecying muste needis be trewe, that ech kingdom devidid in hem silf schal be destruyed, therefore to hem bifille the now seid wrecchid myschaunce. God for his merci and pitee kepe Ynglond, that he come not into lijk daunce. But forto turne here fro aʓen unto our Bible men, y preie ʓe seie ʓe to me, whanne among you is rise a strijf in holdingis and opiniouns (bi cause that ech of ​you trustith to his owne studie in the Bible aloon, and wole have alle treuthis of mennys moral conversacioun there groundid), what iuge mai therto be assiyned in erthe, save resoun and the bifore seid doom of resoun? For thouʓ men schulden be iugis, ʓit so muste thei be bi uce of the seid resoun and doom of resoun; and if this be trewe, who schulde thanne better or so weel use, demene, and execute this resoun and the seid doom, as schulde tho men whiche han spende so miche labour aboute thilk craft? And these ben tho now bifore seid clerkis. And therefore, ʓe Bible men, bi this here now seid whiche ʓe muste needis graunte, for experience which ʓe han of the disturblaunce in Beeme, and also of the disturblaunce and dyverse feelingis had among ʓou silf now in Ynglond, so that summe of ʓou ben clepid Doc­tourmongers, and summe ben clepid Opinioun-holders, and summe ben Neutralis, that of so presumptuose a cisme abhominacioun to othere men and schame to ʓou it is to heere; rebuke now ʓou silf, for aa miche as ʓe wolden not bifore this tyme allowe, that resoun and his doom schulde have such and so greet interesse in the lawe of God and in expownyng of Holi Scripture, as y have seid and proved hem to have.
X.
(A.D. 1550.)
lever's sermons
As for example of ryche men, loke at the merchauntes of London, and ye shall se, when as by their honest ​vocacion, and trade of marchandise God hath endowed them with great abundaunce of ryches, then can they not be content with the prosperous welth of that vocacion to satisfye theym selves, and to helpe other, but their riches muste abrode in the countrey to bie fermes out of the handes of worshypfull gentlemen, honeste yeomen, and pore laborynge husbandes. Yea nowe also to bye per­sonages, and benefices, where as they do not onelye bye landes and goodes, but also lyves and soules of men, from God and the comen wealth, unto the Devyll and theim selves. A myschevouse marte of merchandrie is this, and yet nowe so comenly used, that therby shepe­heardes be turned to theves, dogges into wolves, and the poore flocke of Christ, redemed wyth his precious bloud, moste miserablye pylled and spoyled, yea cruelly devoured. Be thou marchaunt of the citye, or be thou gentleman in the contrey, be thou lawer, be you cour­tear, or what maner of man soever thou be, that can not, yea yf thou be master doctor of divinitie, that wyl not do thy duety, it is not lawfull for the to have personage, benefice, or any suche livyng, excepte thou do fede the flocke spiritually wyth Goddes worde, and bodelye wyth honeste hospitalitye. I wyll touch diverse kyndes of ryche men and rulers, that ye maye se what harme some of theim do wyth theyr ryches and authoritye. And especiallye I wyll begynne wyth theym that be best learned, for they seme belyke to do moste good wyth ryches and authoritie unto theim committed. If I therefore beynge a yonge simple scholer myghte be so bolde, I wolde aske an auncient, wyse, and well learned doctor of divinitie, whych cometh not at hys benefice, ​whether he were bounde to fede hys flocke in teachynge of Goddes worde, and kepyng hospitalitie or no? He wolde answere and saye: Syr, my curate supplieth my roume in teachynge, and my farmer in kepynge of house. Yea but master doctor by your leave, both these more for your vauntage then for the paryshe conforte: and there­fore the mo suche servauntes that ye kepe there, the more harme is it for your paryshe, and the more synne and shame for you. Ye may thynke that I am sumwhat saucye to laye synne and shame to a doctor of divinitie in thys solemne audience, for some of theim use to excuse the matter, and saye: Those whych I leave in myne absence do farre better than I shoulde do, yf I taryed there my selfe.
XI.
COWLEY.
(Works, printed by Sprat in 1668.)
How this love came to be produced in me so early, is a hard question: I believe I can tell the particular little chance that filled my head first with such Chimes of Verse, as have never since left ringing there. For I remember when I began to read, and to take some plea­sure in it, there was wont to lie in my Mother's Parlour (I know not by what accident, for she her self never in her life read any Book but of Devotion), but there was wont to lie Spencers Works: this I happened to fall upon, and was infinitely delighted with the stories of the ​Knights, and Giants, and Monsters, and brave Houses, which I found every where there: (Though my under­standing had little to do with all this) and by degrees with the tinckling of the Rhyme and Dance of the Numbers, so that I think I had read him all over before I was twelve years old, and was thus made a Poet as irremediably as a Child is made an Eunuch. With these affections of mind, and my heart wholly set upon Letters, I went to the University; But was soon torn from thence by that violent Publick storm which would suffer nothing to stand where it did, but rooted up every Plant, even from the Princely Cedars to Me, the Hyssop. Yet I had as good fortune as could have befallen me in such a Tempest; for I was cast by it into the Family of one of the best Persons, and into the Court of one of the best Princesses of the World. Now though I was here engaged in wayes most contrary to the Original design of my life, that is, into much company, and no small business, and into a daily sight of Greatness, both Militant and Triumphant (for that was the state then of the English and French Courts), yet all this was so far from altering my Opinion, that it onely added the con­firmation of Reason to that which was before but Natural Inclination. I saw plainly all the Paint of that kind of Life, the nearer I came to it; and that Beauty which I did not fall in Love with, when, for ought I knew, it was reall, was not like to bewitch, or intice me, when I saw that it was Adulterate. I met with several great Persons, whom I liked very well, but could not perceive that any part of their Greatness was to be liked or desired, no more then I would be glad, or content to ​be in a storm, though I saw many ships which rid safely and bravely in it: A storm would not agree with my stomach, if it did with my Courage. Though I was in a crowd of as good company as could be found any where, though I was in business of great and honourable trust, though I eate at the best Table, and enjoyed the best conveniences for present subsistance that ought to be desired by a man of my condition in banishment and publick distresses; yet I could not abstain from renewing my old School-boys Wish in a Copy of Verses to the same effect.
XII.
GIBBON.
(A.D. 1776.)
the decline and fall of the roman empire.
CHAPTER I.
In the second century of the Christian Æra, the empire of Rome comprehended the fairest part of the earth, and the most civilized portion of mankind. The frontiers of that extensive monarchy were guarded by ancient renown and disciplined valour. The gentle, but powerful, influence of laws and manners had gradually cemented the union of the provinces. Their peaceful inhabitants enjoyed and abused the advantages of wealth and luxury. The image of a free constitution was pre­served with decent reverence: the Roman senate ap­peared to possess the sovereign authority, and devolved ​on the emperors all the executive powers of govern­ment.
CHAPTER II.
It was once proposed to discriminate the slaves by a peculiar habit; but it was justly apprehended that there might be some danger in acquainting them with their own numbers. Without interpreting, in their utmost strictness, the liberal appellations of legions and myriads, we may venture to pronounce that the proportion of slaves, who were valued as property, was more consi­derable than that of servants, who can be computed only as an expense. The youths of a promising genius were instructed in the arts and sciences, and their price was ascertained by the degree of their skill and talents. Almost every profession, either liberal or mechanical, might be found in the household of an opulent senator. The ministers of pomp and sensuality were multiplied beyond the conception of modern luxury. It was more for the interest of the merchant or manufacturer to purchase, than to hire his workmen; and in the country, slaves were employed as the cheapest and most laborious instruments of agriculture. To confirm the general observation, and to display the multitude of slaves, we might allege a variety of particular instances. It was discovered, on a very melancholy occasion, that four hundred slaves were maintained in a single palace of
MORRIS.
(A.D. 1872.)
love is enough.
O friend, I have seen her no more, and her mourning Is alone and unhelped — yet to-night or to-morrow Somewhat nigher will I be to her love and her longing. Lo, to thee, friend, alone of all folk on the earth These things have I told: for a true man I deem thee Beyond all men call true; yea, a wise man moreover And hardy and helpful; and I know thy heart surely That thou holdest the world nought without me thy fosterling. Come, leave all, awhile I it may be, as time weareth, With new life in our hands we shall wend us back hither.
Page 47.
. . . . . . . One beckoneth her back hitherward — even Death — And who was that, Beloved, but even I? Yet though her feet and sunlight are drawn nigh The cold grass where he lieth like the dead, To ease your hearts a little of their dread I will abide her coming, and in speech He knoweth, somewhat of his welfare teach. . . . . . . . Hearken, O Pharamond, why camest thou hither? . . . . . . . I came seeking Death; I have found him belike. . . . . . . . In what land of the world art thou lying, Pharamond? . . . . . . . In a land 'twixt two worlds; nor long shall I dwell there. . . . . . . . Who am I, Pharamond, that stand here beside thee? . . . . . . . The Death I have sought — thou art welcome; I greet thee. . . . . . . .
Such a name have I had, but another name have I. . . . . . . . Art thou God, then, that helps not until the last season? . . . . . . . Yea, God am I surely; yet another name have I. . . . . . . . Methinks as I hearken, thy voice I should wot of. . . . . . . . I called thee, and thou cam'st from thy glory and kingship. . . . . . . . I was King Pharamond, and love overcame me. . . . . . . . Pharamond, thou say'st it. — I am Love and thy master. . . . . . . . Sooth did'st thou say when thou call'dst thyself Death. . . . . . . . Though thou diest, yet thy love and thy deeds shall I quicken. . . . . . . . Be thou God, be thou Death, yet I love thee and dread not. . . . . . . . Pharamond, while thou livedst, what thing wert thou loving? . . . . . . . A dream and a lie — and my death — and I love it. . . . . . . . Pharamond, do my bidding, as thy wont was aforetime. . . . . . . . What wilt thou have of me, for I wend away swiftly? . . . . . . . Open thine eyes, and behold where thou liest! . . . . . . . It is little — the old dream, the old lie is about me. . . . . . . . Why faintest thou, Pharamond? Is love then unworthy? . . . . . . . Then hath God made no world now, nor shall make here­after.
Wouldst thou live if thou mightst in this fair worlds O Pharamond? ······· Yea, if she and truth were; nay, if she and truth were not, ······· O long shalt thou live; thou art here in the body, Where nought but thy spirit I brought in days bygone. Ah, thou hearkenest! — And where then of old hast thou heard it? ······· O mock me not, Death; or, Life, hold me no longer; For that sweet strain I hear that I heard once a-dreaming; Is it death coming nigher, or life coming back that brings it? Or rather my dream come again as aforetime? ······· Look up, O Pharamond! canst thou see aught about thee? — Page 76.
It is a shame for any Englishman to look coldly upon his mother tongue, and I hope that this Book may help forward the study of English in all its stages. Let the beginner first buy the Gothic and Anglo-Saxon Gospels, with Wickliffe's and Tyndale's versions; these, printed in four columns side by side, make a moderate volume, and are published by J. Smith, Soho Square, Lon­don. Let him next get Thorpe's Analecta Anglo-Saxonica (a glossary is attached), published by Arch, Cornhill; the extracts given here range from the year 890 to 1205. Then let him go on to Dr. Morris' Specimens of Early English, which will take him from 1230 to 1400; Mr. Skeat's Specimens will bring him down to 1579: these last two books come from the Clarendon Press and are sold by Macmillan & Co. The great English works, from 1579 to 1873, maybe supposed to be already well known to all ​men of any education. The thorough-going English student must always keep his eye fixed upon Dr. March's Anglo-Saxon Grammar (Sampson Low, Son, and Mars­ton), and upon Dr. Morris' Historical Outlines of English Accidence (Macmillan and Co.). He will, it is to be hoped, forthwith become a subscriber to the Early English Text Society. May many an Englishman begin his studies in his own tongue, mindful of Virgil's line:
‘Antiquam exquirite Matrem.’
* ↑ Stephens, Runic Monuments, I. 405.
* ↑ Bosworth, Origin of the Germanic Languages, p. 57.
* ↑ This Psalm may be compared with the version made four hun­dred and fifty years later, at p. 145 of my work. Both may be found in the Psalter (Surtees Society).
* ↑ Thorpe's Analecta, p. 87. He thinks that this is East Anglian. Here we see the Anglian diphthong œ at the end of words, just as on the Ruthwell Cross, four hundred years earlier.
* ↑ I give here only one specimen of English between this date (1090) and 1350, since so many pieces, written in that interval, are to be found in my book.
* ↑ This is the only passage, of all the specimens in this Chapter, that was not written in the Anglian country, or that did not feel the Anglian influence. French words begin to come in.
* ↑ Morris, Specimens of Early English, page 198.
* ↑ their.
* ↑ their tenets.
* ↑ them.
* ↑ judgement.
* ↑ Arber's Reprint, page 29.
* ↑ Page 144, near the end of the Volume.