The Dream of the Rood

bēama beorhtost (brightest of beams)

'Beam', signifying both a wooden object and a ray of light, is singularly appropriate in discussing a wooden cross suffused by light, just as it is the subsequent, fourfold repetition of the word 'beacon'. It is important to note the variation on the cross. The cross is understood by turns as a 'most wondrous tree' (syllicre trēow), the 'brightest of beams' (bēama behortost), and a 'beacon' (bēacen). These three equivalent phrases are meant to characterise the shifting nature of the object in question. Variation, the rewording of ideas or re-elaboration of thought, is one of the standards by which Old English poetry is judged. The skilful use of variation is index of poetic excellence.

iċ synnum 'fāh' ('stained' by sins)

'Fāh' is a case of playfully ambiguous diction, with its twi meanings of 'stained' and 'guilty'.

stefne (voice, but also 'root')

'Stefn' indicates the two homographs 'trunk, root' and 'voice', both exploited in a way which seems particularly apposite in a poem which is, after all, about a speaking tree.

bealuwara weorc (the work of evildoers)

'bealuwara' is a unique compound in Old English, assumed to be a conflation of 'evil' and 'inhabitants'. In this line, Mitchell & Robinson interpret bealuwara weorc and sarra sorga as objects depending from the same verb, and this is a sign of the weakening of case patterning in Old English syntax.

Ġenāman mē ðǣr strange fēondas

As Pasternack identifies, all the verses in 30-33 not only are hypermetric but also begin with a past plural verb. Plus, they all but one continue with ðǣr. This repetition of syntactic structure unifies the section and conveys the impression of purposeful action.

mid wǣtan bestēmed (drenched with moisture)

Creates a parallel with Christ 'blode bistemed', and Andreas 1239b 'swate bestemed'. This looks like a poetic formula system.

ġimmas 'stōdon' (gems 'stood')

Bosworth and Toller's dictionary testifies the derived sense 'shine'. A similar use of the verb 'stondēn' not only in relation to jewels and light is found in Beowulf.

ealdġewyrhtum (ancient deed)

Swanton notes that 'ealdġewyrhtum' occurs elsewhere only in Beowulf, and is more commonly used to refer to deeds with will gain the doer heaven or hell at Judgement. The use of the plural is here generic, for the reference is clearly to Adam's original sin, the eating of the apple.

uppe on þām eaxleġespanne (upon the cross-beam)

'eaxlegespanne' is a unique compound whose sense remains uncertain, since 'gespan' can mean 'a joining, yoke or clasp'. However, if 'eaxle' can be used figuratively of the 'shoulders' (i.e. cross-pieces) of the cross, than the jewels are presumably positioned as in the Rupert Cross, but it is used elsewhere of human shoulders only.

fæġer feorgbold (fair life-dwelling)

'fæġer feorgbold' is a kenning, a poetically-charged restatement of the word for 'body', hrǣw. As ever in Old English poetry, kenning adds a further layer of meaning to the body which is interpreted as the house where the spirit of a human being dwells.

Ġeseah iċ (I saw)

'Ġeseah iċ' creates an obvious parallelism at the beginning of four b-lines.

earmra ǣrġewin (the ancient strife of wretched men)

'ǣrgwin' is a unique compound and there is disagreement over whether it refers to the agony of those who were crucified or the hostility of those wretches who crucified Christ. In favour of the second interpretation, the sense of 'hostility' is well-established for 'gewinn', and 'earm' would be an appropriate adjective for sinful and deluded mankind rejecting Christ and salvation. Indeed, 'ǣr' suggests the long history of human sinfulness. Thus, the 'ǣrġewin' are more likely the brutes, the miscreants who crucified Christ. Here, the overall cryptic phrasing is reminiscent of a riddle. the poet is deliberately defamiliarising something that may have appeared even too familiar in light of its long tradition in the Sacred scriptures.

Þūhte mē þæt iċ ġesāwe syllicre trēow (It seemed to me that I saw a most wondrous tree)

A case for a direct literary connection can here be made with Elene, which is not only also preserved in the Vercelli Book, but contains another dream-vision, namely, Constantine's famous vision before the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. The envelope patterning through the repeated term 'bright' finds a close parallel in the opening lines of Elene. While it may be argued that the elements of brilliance and gold are already present in the Latin source, it is important to note that the Latin specifies that it is the inscribed letters themselves that are gold, rather than the whole cross.

Hwæt, (Listen!)

A characteristic opening for an Old English poem, Beowulf, Andreas, and Fate of the Apostles all begin with this call to attention, which may be interpreted as an inheritance from an oral past. The poet is knowingly translating a well-known Gospel episode into Old English, tapping into an oral tradition which allows the Crucifixion story to be reinterpreted by a process of de-familiarisation.

langunghwīla (many times of longing)

A unique compound, its meaning ranges from longing to desire, to weariness, to even grief. It is thus impossible to know whether 'langunghwīla' is a reinforcement of the sorrowful feeling or an explanation of the eagerness to depart.

swylċe swā hē his mōdor ēac, Marian sylfe (just as he also worshipped his mother, Marian herself)

According to O'Carragain, the comparison between the Cross and Mary would have directed the attention of a tenth-century cleric to the feast of the Annunciation, which was believed to have occurred on the same date as the Crucifixion 33 years earlier. According to English liturgical calendars, the Feast was traditionally celebrated on 25th March. This coincidence was valued as an aspect of God's control of human history. In this sense, the parallels between the situation of the Cross in The Dream of the Rood and that of Mary in St.Luke's account of the Annunciation are quite remarkable. Both the Cross and Mary are obedient to a divine command which at first sight seems to them to go against nature. a) the way the Cross trembles when the warrior-Christ embraces it is reminiscent of Mary's disturbance at the angel's message; b) as Mary was commanded to bear Christ into human life, so the Cross must bear Him to His death; c) Mary's acceptance of a role she does not as yet fully understand is paralleled by the Cross's obedience to 'the Lord's word'.

Hwæðre (However)

Adverbs perform a pivotal function, in that the poem pivots around them and reboots thematically. The repetition of 'Hwæðre' creates a sequence of concessive adverbial clauses which work together with the large use of understatement to set a dramatic yet composed tone for the poem.

hēahfædere (highfather)

Although the more frequent use of the word 'hēahfædere' in Old English is as a translation of the Graeco-Latin 'patriarcha', and it would indeed make sense to speak about living in heaven with the patriarchs, one would expect a dative plural in that case.

ond mē þonne ġebringe þǣr is blis myċel (and then bring me where there is great bliss)

As Swanton points out, the repeated syntactic pattern of these lines 'þǣr is... þǣr is... þǣr is....' is typical of Latin homiletic rhetoric. Swanton also finds in 'the Lord's people seated to feast' an echo of the oracle of the wedding feast in St. Matthew and St. Luke. However, it would also seem an image which fits naturally the cultural pattern of Old English and the image of God as Lord of his retainers.

Wæs mōdsefa āfȳsed on forðweġe (My spirit was inspired with longing for the way forward)

As a euphemism for death, 'forðweġe' occurs in several Old English poems, including The Wanderer. It refers to a journey which on the level of Biblical exegesis symbolises the journey of the soul to heaven.

ġebiddaþ (I will pray)

Carragain argues that although the poem is obviously not a Biblical paraphrase in conventional style, the Vercelli Book compiler's interests were, to judge from the texts which he gathered, primarily ascetic. For the Vercelli collection is best understood as a florilegium, and the explicit exhortations to repentance in lines 78ff. of The Dream of the Rood tie in very well with the preoccupations for a conversio morum.

sigebeam (victory-tree)

Elene and Dream of the Rood emphasise that the cross is a 'tree of glory' and that the cross is decorated not only with gold, but with gems as well. In extant Old English poetry the compound occurs only in these texts, where it appears not fewer than seven times. All these details (brilliance, gold, detail, us of 'tree of glory') are missing from the Latin; the fact that they have no warrant in the Latin source suggests that this heavily repeated feature is a device of OE poets' own choosing.

nu, for þan, iu, œrþan, þonne

For Pasternack, the various adverbial prepositions between 78 and 121 are temporal markers which join main clauses comparing the two time periods of the temporal and the eternal.

There he tasted death; nevertheless, the Lord arose again with his great strength as a help to men. He then ascended into heaven. Hither he (will) come again to this earth to seek mankind, on Doomsday, the Lord himself, almighty God and his angels with him, he who has the power of judgement, so that he will then judge each one of them, for what they themselves have earned for themselves in this temporary life.

From line 101 to 109 the language and the dense intertextuality of the poem suggest another kind of literature: the religious creed.

ġealgtrēowe (gallows-tree)

In line 10 the gallows had been denied as instrument of torture but now the Dreamers seems to acknowledge the dual role played by the Cross in the Crucifixion.

The Son was triumphant upon his journey, mighty and successful, when he came with the multitude, a troop of souls, into God's kingdom, Ruler almighty, as happiness to the angels and to all the saints who were in heaven before, who dwelled in glory, when their Ruler came, almighty God, where his homeland was.

In this last section the poem makes a purely contextual choice of tense, swinging back and forth between past and present. In every case, relatively little time is spent in the future in this poem. Although Anglo-Saxons do have the sense of the future, OE favours the use of one past tense that is 'thickened out' to create a more textured temporal dimension - whether factually past or virtually future.

Frīneð hē for þǣre mæniġe hwǣr se man sīe, (He will ask before the multitude where the person may be)

In this line, Christ is essentially asking "Who would be a martyr for me like I did for you?". And yet, the almost patronising tone of this question betrays the involvement of the Cross in this experience. the Cross is asking its own question of "Who would be a martyr to the Lord like I was for him?"

ðǣr (there; for some, then)

The adverb is repeated in lines 31, 32 and 33; however the deictic force of the adverb is not quite clear since the place remains unspecified.

'secgum' tō handa (to 'the men's' hands)

It is ambiguous whether the Cross is referring to the disciples of Christ watching over their Lord's body or to the soldiers who crucified him. Thus this line preserves the semantic ambiguity of the earlier 'earmra aergewin', 'the ancient strife of wretched men'. As in the previous case, the second reading is preferable. For the idea of the Cross bending down to the disciples ties up with the later use of 'hilderincas', 'warriors' and seeing as Christ is being reimagined as a Germanic warrior it is plausible that his disciples are described as warriors or thanes.

for ealle menn (on behalf of all men; or, in the sight of all men)

It is arguable whether this phrase means 'in the sight of all men' or whether the force of the accusative, rather than dative, is to convey the sense of 'on behalf of all men'. The worship is most likely done 'for all men' in the sense of 'for the benefit of all mankind'.

Prologue (lines 1-12)

Lines 1 to 12 function as a prologue, where all creation looks upon the Cross as 'angelus domini' at midnight. A cleric aware of the coincidence of the Crucifixion and Annunciation on 25th March would have been alerted by this 'prologue' to further reminiscences of the Annunciation in the poem. Once we are aware of the reminiscences of the Annunciation scene we can better appreciate the dynamic structure of the poem, for the poem itself is the Dreamer's 'annunciation' to the reader, who is clearly intended to complete the sequence of 'annunciations' which the poem incorporates.

elne mycle (with great zeal)

Lines 34, 60, 123: 'I saw the Lord of mankind hasten with great zeal so as to climb upon me', 'i bent down to the men's hands, humble, with great zeal', 'I prayed to that beacon with a happy mind, with great zeal'. This phrase is used first of Christ, then of the Cross and finally of the Dreamer. Only in the first case is the sense of ellen, 'courage, strength' appropriate: the parallelism of the moments is clearly more important than the exact sense of the noun.

on þyssum lǣnum līfe (in this temporary life)

Metrically, the effect of separating adjective (lǣnum) and noun (life) across the caesura serves to underline the instability of life on earth. the transitory nature of this world is a common theme in Old english poetry. Collocations such as 'læne lif', 'læne tid' occur frequently in prose and poetry. Interestingly, the notion is implicit that life is 'on loan' to men, as appears in The Wanderer.

Dēað hē þǣr 'byriġde' (there he 'tasted' death)

Not only does this verb turn the essential passivity of dying into active action, but it also offers the underlying meaning of the Crucifixion as a reversal of the original sin of disobedience. As Adam tasted tasted the apple and, through sin, brought death into the world so Christ, the second Adam, 'tasted death', and brought life into the world by means of his resurrection.

Rōd wæs iċ ārǣred. Āhōf iċ rīċne Cyning (A cross I was reared. I raised up the noble King)

Note the alliteration, punctuation, capitalisation as well as chiastic structure (as a Rood was I raised up: up I held the noble King). The AB:BA pattern of this line mirrors its nature as a cross.

ēaðmōd (humble)

O'Carragain focuses on this adjective and makes it a starting point for his analysis of understatement in Dream of the Rood. Although nothing could be more different in spirit and manner than the way the Crucifixion is described in the poem and the way it is presented in the Latin liturgy for Passiontide, lexis here seems to bring back (at least to some extent) the atmosphere of the Good Friday liturgy, emphasising the repenting believer's passivity. In this context, it is relevant that the Vercelli compiler included a Good Friday homily in his florilegium where Christ's qualities of patience and humility are exalted, rather than his heroic powers.

The Dream of The Rood

Old English poems do not have headings or titles in the original manuscripts. A title like 'Dream of the Rood', 'a vision of the cross' would have spoiled the mystery, the enigma of the poetry for an Anglo-Saxon audience. The poem is trying to undo any previous knowledge we may have of the Crucifixion narrative. Without preaching, the poem is offering an experience.

wē ðǣr grēotende gōde hwīle (we stood there weeping for a ling while)

Orchard asks himself whether Christ is really alone in the aftermath of his death, or the 'small company' may after all include some form of life albeit not human, and finds that his question is surely answered by the alliteration in this line. Christ seems alone at this point but in fact has a retinue of three crosses for company, just as the Dreamer seems alone but is accompanied by Christ and Cross. Thus, 'we' alludes to the crosses of the malefactors beside Christ's and signals that the narrative here hooks up with the Gospels' narrative again.

lifiaþ nū on heofenum mid hēahfædere (they live now in heaven with the high-father)

Orchard notes the contrast between this life and the next: the alternation in four a-lines of heaven and earth (on heofenum ... on eorðan ... on heofonum ... on eorþan) is all the more pleasing since in the corresponding b-lines the word for God remains the same (dryhtnes ... dryhtnes ... dryhten). With its firm focus on the contrast between this world and the next it might well be argued from these closing lines that The Dream of the Rood, like its companion pieces in the Vercelli manuscript, is a homiletic text.

sorgum (with sorrows)

Parallelism is created with line 59, 'sarra sorta', 'grievous sorrows'. In the Ruthwell Cross, the word 'sorrow' is supplied by the reading of the runes.

Feala...wrāðra wyrda (many cruel events)

The Cross is here talking synoptically, recapitulating its experience as a gallow-tree, or so seems to imply the phrase 'many cruel events' which goes back to line 19 ('the ancient strife of wretched men' whose unmistakeable signs the Dreamer distinguishes on the Cross at the moment of its appearance) and points to its use for earlier crucifixions.

'rod', 'beam' 'beacen', 'wudu', 'treow', 'gealgtreow'

The Cross is identified by turns as a 'rood', a 'beacon', a piece of 'wood', a 'tree' and a 'gallows-tree'. The use of variation exemplifies the diversity of the roles performed by the Cross, as the poem cycles through different conceptions of one entity.

mundbyrd (protection)

The Dreamer is identifying the Cross as his protector, or patron. This seems to define the relationship of client and patron between them, and aligns the Cross with god or Christ who are elsewhere seen as protectors or affording protection.

on þā swīðran healfe (on the right side)

The Dreamer's observation of the Cross that 'it began to bleed on the right side' is an evident echo of Christ's own wound. Similarly the Dreamer's comment that 'I was all agitated with guilt' is directly echoed by the assertion of the Cross after seeing first and the Crucifixion that 'I was painfully afflicted by sorrows'.

anforht (twin meanings of 'unafraid' and 'deeply afraid')

The ambiguity of 'unafraid' in a line where its meaning is evidently impossible has been cleared by scholars who have pointed out that the prefix 'un' appears with this intensive sense elsewhere in Old English (although these exceptions remain rare and, we can thus infer, fruit of deliberate poetic craft).

Hwæðre iċ þǣr licgende lange hwīle (However, as I stood there weeping for a long while)

The careful phrasing of this cross-alliterated line reveals that the Dreamer during his vision was a passive observer. Shortly before the Cross turns to the dreamer to make its plea the equally alliterative 'Yet we stood in our place, weeping' creates a clear parallel with this line.

þæt hē mē wolde on ġestīgan (that he may climb upon me)

The difference from the Crucifixion story is striking: once the cross is planted on the hill, the Lord keenly climbs upon on his own initiative. This is un unprecedented action reversing the Gospels' narrative.

þæt hit is wuldres bēam, se ðe ælmihtiġ God on þrōwode (that it is the tree of glory, on which almighty God suffered)

The double relative embedded in this sentence at once looks back and forward (as relative clauses always do) to the Old Testament and on to the Day of Judgement. Starting to look towards the future, the Cross gives the Dreamer a task: to be himself an 'aengel Drynthes', a messenger of the Lord. This is a very self-reflexive moment, one may even say a case of meta-poetry. For the poem reflects on our active involvement in the narrative at once as readers and subjects of judgement

eorðweġe (the earthly way)

The world is well-documented in the corpus of Old English poetry; it means essentially 'earth' or 'terra' but it could be argued that the 'path' or 'way' element relates to the idea of life as a journey or pilgrimage of the soul. This echo ties in with the line 'to show them, the speech-bearers, the true way of life'.

Frēan mancynnes (Lord of mankind)

The first appearance of Christ, actively embracing his crucifixion, 'hastening with great zeal so as to climb upon the Cross'. It is here worth mentioning the titles of power used of Christ: 'Lord of mankind', 'God almighty', 'noble King', 'Lord of the heavens', 'Ruler of victories', 'Leader of glory', 'Guardian of the heavens', 'the Lord himself'. They are evidently more commonly used for God the Father than the Son ('young man', 'child of God' and 'the Son' seem more suitable epithets). At no point in the poem does Christ speak, nor are his words reported by the Cross.

onwrēoh wordum þæt hit is wuldres bēam (reveal in words that it is the tree of glory)

The gender agreements here are worth noting: 'hit' is not made to agree with 'beam' which is masculine but 'se ðe' does agree in gender with 'beam'. Possibly one should see 'hit' as referring to the whole substance of the vision which shows that the cross is a tree of glory.

oð ðæt iċ ġehȳrde þæt hit hlēoðrode (until I heard that it spoke)

The idea of a speaking cross has been compared with the technique of riddles where the object speaks for itself. The device of a talking-object is called prosopopoeia and an explanation of its scriptural meaning is furnished by Aldhelm in his treatise. He illustrates the rhetorical device of prosopopoiea by considering both its relationship to the genre of the enigma and to its biblical precedents.

Onġyrede hine þā ġeong hæleð - þæt wæs God ælmihtiġ (The young man then stripped himself: that was Gold almighty)

The line reveals the poet's excellent feel for linguistic as well as cultural nuances. Linguistically, the juxtaposition of ġeong hæleð, 'young man' and God ælmihtiġ, 'God almighty' creates a stark contrast between the human and the divine; this contrast is exacerbated by the incorporation of this somewhat understated collocation into a chiasm, a syntactic structure invoking a conscious show of artistry. Indeed, the classical reminiscences of this rhetorical figure are not lost on the poet, who here mingles Germanic and Latinate imagery. Christ actively prepares himself, but the meaning of this gesture is uncertain: the idea of stripping oneself for combat is classical rather than Germanic. The Gospel accounts do not indicate that he was naked and he is rarely represented as naked, or even nearly-naked, in Anglo-Saxon representations. Cultural equivocation is fully exploited by the poem to reach its climax.

þæt 'fūse' bēacen (that 'eager' beacon)

The meaning of this word is unclear in this context, for the usual sense is 'ready, eager, hastening' (especially towards death) but these do not make good sense when applied to the Cross. Mitchell & Robinson gloss as 'shining, or brilliant' giving the adjective a sense of brightness. Given the extent to which the poem echoes words and phrases to indicate significant parallels, 'fuse' may well have been deliberately chosen to create the parallel between the Cross, the disciples, and the Dreamer.

reordberend (speech-bearers)

The men are characterised as 'bearers of speech', 'tellers of dreams'. The loaded use of this compound for 'mankind' (distinguished from other creatures by possessing a voice) gains added force in a poem where the only object to utter sound is a speaking tree. While imaginative, this compound is not unique to Dream of the Rood: Andy Orchard makes a case for a verbal and conceptual parallel between the Dream of the Rood and Daniel on the basis of the occurrence of 'speech-bearers' in the recollection of Nabuchodonosor's dream-vision - which, as a matter of fact, concerns a tree.

Ongunnon him þā moldern wyrċan (Then they began to build a tomb for him)

The narrative here clearly does not tally with the Gospels' story. However, Orchard cites this line, along with 'nevertheless I bent down to the men's hands, as a case in point for a parallel between the Dream of the Rood and the Gospel of Nicodemus, were Joseph and Nicodemus are said to carve a tomb for their Lord.

'wǣdum' ġeweorðode (adorned with 'clothes')

The normal Old English sense of this word is 'clothing', often coupled with 'wiste', food ('wǣdum und wiste', 'clothing and food'). The reference is puzzling. Editors have suggested it refers to either streamers or cords hung from the cross, the covering which was put on the Cross on Good Friday and removed on the Resurrection services of Easter Sunday. It may also be merely another way of describing the 'dress' of gold and silver, water and blood.

wendan wǣdum ond blēom (to change its clothings and colours)

The notion that the Cross is seen to 'change its clothings and colours' seems to echo certain aspects of Tatwine's enigma De Cruce Christi, where the Cross is likewise seen as 'changeable in colours'. What's more, the self-description of Tatwine's cross is on one hand 'a terrible spectacle' established 'by law' (a possible reference to the gallows-tree) and on the other hand something widely honoured and adorned around the world. A further case in point is that the line 'menn ofer moldan ond eall þeos mære gesceaft' is repeated verbatim in Tatwine's learned riddle, a line which was doublers familiar to an audience with the vernacular text in mind.

mǣte weorode (with small company)

The observation that Christ 'rested there with small company' echoes the Dreamer's own description of himself towards the end of the poem, where he tells of his yearning to pray the Cross 'where I was alone with a small company'. These are the only two examples of the phrase to have survived in Old English leading most commentators to interpret the former occurrence in the light of the latter, as an example of litotes. In both uses of this poem the literal sense of 'with a small company' has clearly become, in context, 'alone'. As with the use of the instrumental phrase 'elne mycle', the double use of 'mæte weorode' seems intended to create a parallel between Christ and Cross (the Dreamer is here interestingly not included: is here really alone?).

iċ hwæðre þām secgum tō handa, ēaðmōd, elne myċle (nevertheless, I bent down to the men's hands, humble, with great zeal)

The one-unifying line in the poem returns here and is referred to the Cross. The poet of The Dream of the Rood seems consciously to blur the boundaries between the main characters depicted, as well as to exploit the artistic possibilities offered by ambiguous diction.

standan stēame bedrifenne (as I stood covered with blood)

The phrase 'sprinkled with blood' presents some difficulty semantically. Since 'steam' normally indicates vapour, a semantic shift must have occurred, so that contextually the reference might be to the hot blood that gives off vapour. The sense of the phrase then is that the Cross stands surrounded by the vapour arousing from the hot blood in which it is soaked. (A similar semantic shift has already happened with regard to the 'open wounds of malice', where the 'widhlemmas' refer not precisely to the wounds themselves but to the crushing sound of an instrument that may provoke such wounds.)

Ongan þā word sprecan wudu sēlesta (It began to speak, the best of wood)

The phrase 'word sprecan' echoes the synonymic 'hlēoðrode' in the precedent line, an instance of how tightly the poem is woven, as it constantly repeats words ad images. This self-enclosed line is also mentioned by Pasternack as one of the minor 'stylistic disjunctions' in Dream of The Rood, in that the poet switches personae from the Dreamer to the Cross. The reported speech ends at line at 121.

ealle fæġere þurh forðġesceaft (all those fair by eternal decree)

The phrase has the sense here of 'creatures endowed with beauty at their creation', the reference is probably to the angels, the 'hālige gāstas'. More precisely, to the the angels who stood by the Lord's side following Lucipher's fall from heaven to hell. These 'angels who did not fall' are now gazing from high above on God's messenger on earth.

hæleð mīn se lēofa (my beloved hero)

The phrase is repeated a few lines later when the Cross instructs the Dreamer to explain his vision to the rest of mankind, and to explicate it. Interestingly, a parallel is found in Elene in the context of a lengthy speech which describes the mercy of Christ despite all the agonies he has suffered at the Crucifixion. Alongside both The Dream of the Rood and Elene in the Vercelli Book we find precisely the same striking opening phrase echoed in two passages from Andreas. All three passages also preserve an interest in the contrast between words and deeds.

weruda God (the God of hosts)

The poem introduces its subject indirectly, enigmatically, but 'weruda God' is finally giving the answers to all the questions raised. The enigmatic language is cast aside to put the Dreamer (and the reader) before the undeniable presence of God.

Hwæt,

The poem is here rebooting, pivoting around the interjection 'Hwæt'. The exclamatory 'Listen!' stresses a new perspective by breaking the initial adverb pattern. Against the bas-relief of shorter, verb-initial sentences the poet crafts an unusually long involved sentence balancing the ascension against Christ's descent in the Second Coming. Also, exclamatory interjections are frequent in Old English poetry (as representative of all oral traditions) and make up in their own for the very limited use of punctuation in ancient poetry.

bryne (burning)

The poem is testifying to the medieval belief that Christ would rescue human souls from the hellfire bringing them up with him to heaven. The putative source for the 'Descensus ad Inferos' is the Gospel of Nicodemus.

āna oftor þonne ealle men (alone more often than all men)

The sense of this line would seem to refer to this vision which has put the dreamer in a unique position to resort to and honour the cross. 'Ana' may refer back to 'mæte werede' and forward to his statement of his friendless state.

Ne.. Ne...

The series of negative statements in this section (only some of them foregrounded by the negative pronoun 'ne' at the beginning of lines) emphasise a negative concept, namely, the 'weighing up' of men's lives on Judgement Day.

mōdsefa

The term is not quite so precise. It can mean mind, spirit, soul, or heart. It is a case of playfully ambiguous diction which offers itself to the poem with its plethora of meanings.

þā iċ 'bifian' ġeseah eorðan scēatas (when I saw the corners of the earth 'tremble')

The trembling of the earth can be compared not only with the reaction of the earth to the Crucifixion but also with the apocalyptic scenario of the Day of Judgement (as dramatised, for example, in the Old English poem Christ). The poem thus subtly but consciously begins to introduce the second temporal dimension of the Lord's future coming. At once contradictory and complementary, the scene is fully dramatised in the final 15 lines of the poem, a passage Pasternack denominates the 'Magnification'.

ēðel (homeland)

The use of eðel, the idea that heaven is the native land, homeland, of Christ perhaps carries a final echo of the theme of the Christian soul as peregrinus and alien in this world journeying towards heaven as his or her true native country. It makes a fitting end to the message of the poem which is essentially that of hope and encouragement.

unc būtū ætgædere (us both together)

The use of the dual pronoun, dual adjective, and the adverb 'together' puts enormous emphasis on the unity of Cross and Christ, who shared suffering at the Crucifixion. The uniqueness of this bond is emblematised by the rarity of occurrence of the dual in Anglo-Saxon syntax.

mid swātes 'gange' (by the 'flow' of blood)

The word 'gange' has an interesting range of meanings related to the sense of going, movement or flowing. The idea of 'path' is strong and perhaps should be seen here as reflecting the sense of the Cross and Crucifixion as creating a path for man through Christ's blood. Once interpreted as a metonymy, the word delivers its full poetic charge.

forht iċ wæs for þǣre fæġran 'ġesyhðe' (I was afraid before that beautiful 'vision')

The word ġesyhð(e), 'vision' (always in an oblique case) appears four times in the poem, each as the final word of an a-line. The inflection of this key word in the poem suggests a divergence from the orthodox Crucifixion story which is not merely thematic.

Hē ðā on heofenas āstāg (He then ascended into heaven)

There is clearly a parallelism between Christ climbing upon the Cross and Christ ascending into heaven; even iconographically it can sometimes be difficult to distinguish at first sight between a Crucifixion and a Judgement.

gāsta weorode (a troop of souls)

These lines have caused some problems. Who are 'ealle ða halgan' who dwell in heaven before Christ's redemption if they are not the angels? Two solutions have been proposed: a) that they are Enoch, Elijah and the Good Thief. This is based on the evidence of the Gospel of Nichodemus; b) that engel here is being used in the restricted sense of the first of the nine orders of the heavenly host and ealle ða halgan are the other eight orders of archangels, thrones, dominations, principalities, powers, virtues, cherubim and seraphim.

hnāg iċ hwæðre þām secgum tō handa, (nevertheless I bent down to the men's hands)

This half-line is most relevant for its intertextual echoes. Orchard notes that an anonymous homily for Palm Sunday found in the Vercelli Book contains several verbal and thematic parallels with Dream of The Rood. In the homily, too, the tree bends under the hands of two men, Joseph and Nicodemus; later on, Joseph and Nicodemus are said to carve a tomb for Christ from bright stone. This parallel is perhaps suggesting the Gospel of Nicodemus as a putative source for the Vercelli homily.

siððan hē hæfde his gāst onsended (after he had sent forth his spirit)

This half-line is remarkable for its ability to understate Christ's departure from this world. One is almost tempted to gloss over the active way in which Christ's death is expressed, poetic as the image of the 'cast' 'onsended' is. The poet again displays much artistry not only in the re-interpretation of his material but also in the personalisation of well-established tradition, since this image here reflects Matthew's account of Christ's passing, and is paralleled elsewhere in Andreas and Elene.

æt foldan scēatum (at the corners of the earth)

This is a figure of speech conjuring up a cross of supernatural size whose four arms, each ending in a jewel, stretch from horizon to horizon. There is a symbolism behind this precision of detail, as the five 'gems' (gimmas) each represent one of the five wounds of Christ, his hands, feet and side.

swǣtan (to bleed)

This is the only case in which the verb swǣtan s translated as 'bleed', although the cognate noun swǣt can refer to blood, sweat, or moisture. The ambiguity of this lexeme captures the symbolism of the blood which represents the 'water of life'.

Se Sunu (the Son)

This is the only place in the poem where Christ is referred to in this way. The absolute title of 'the Son' would seem to identify him precisely as the second person of the Trinity, as in the Latin 'in nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti'.

Þǣr iċ þā ne dorste ofer Dryhtnes word būgan oððe berstan (I did not dare, against the word of the Lord, bow or break)

This line captures the complexity of the relationship between Christ and the Cross. The reluctant obedience of the Cross to the Lord's commands is part of the characterisation of the Cross as a retainer of a Lord who is forced to go against its instincts and kill rather than protect its Lord. The Cross's ability to strike down the enemies but refusal to do so and prevent the Crucifixion must be interpreted in this light.

(...) Behēoldon þǣr enġel Dryhtnes ealle

This line is metrically difficult and also presents interpretative problems. Whether Christ, or the Cross, can be called an 'angel' is open to dispute. According to O'Carragain, the startling presentation of the Cross as 'enġel Dryhtnes' is paving the way for lines 95ff, where the Crucifixion is presented as the fulfilment of what was foretold by Gabriel at the Annunciation by casting the Cross in a role that is reminiscent of Gabriel's.

On mē syndon þā dolg ġesīene opene inwidhlemmas (On me the wounds are visible, the open wounds of malice)

This line is noteworthy not only for the use of an isolated present form within a running catalogue of statements in the past tense but also for its peculiar choice of vocabulary. The abrupt shift into the present ties the image of the wounded cross intimately with the image of the risen Christ with the imprint of the nails on me. The vocabulary of this whole passage relates closely to that of Christ I, and also to the torture of St Andrew, in Andreas. Poetically much more charged than 'dolg', 'opene inwidhlemmas' is an example of variation colouring in the 'wounding' of the victory-tree. Indeed, the compound 'inwidhlemmas' is unique to this poem, although the concept of 'malice' expressed by the stem 'nið' occurs in both the Christ and Andreas passages.

Bifode iċ þā mē se beorn ymbclypte. (I trembled when the man embraced me)

This line repeats the alliterative collocation of 36 (I saw the corners of the earth tremble) and is part of the complex framing of the statement about the heroic Christ.

Sylliċ wæs se siġebēam ond iċ synnum fāh, (wondrous was the victory-tree, and I stained by sins)

This line stands out for the chiastic structure linked by alliteration. The sense of 'victory-tree' clearly refers to God's victory over death, sin and Satan. However, it also carries the sense of 'tree which brings victory' as it did for Constantine. Indeed, this compound is also found in Elene where the Battle at the Milvian Bridge is recounted. Moreover, the miraculous powers of the Saint Cross are testified by Bede's story of King Oswald. This ability of this wood to perform miracles is evoked by the line 'and now I may heal each one who lives in fear of me' found later in Dream of the Rood.

ðurh ðā rōde (by means of that cross)

This phrase is true in two senses: only through Christ's Crucifixion is man redeemed and able to enter heaven, and only to the extent that each Christian imitates Christ and 'takes up the cross' is he or she going to be absolved by Christ at the Last Judgement and enter heaven. The idea is that the concept of the Day of Judgement inspires a lot of fear, but the Cross is the way to prevent the arousal of that fear.

fēondas (enemies)

Throughout the Crucifixion those acting against Christ remain unidentified, referred primarily by 'fond' or 'beorn'. The vagueness of this lexical choice achieves three main purposes: it universalises the specific moment, it prevents the sinful reader from distancing himself from Christ's torturers, and it throws the active emphasis onto Christ and the Cross - who paradoxically become the subjects (not objects) of passive action.

heofonlicne hām (heavenly home)

Variation on the concept of 'life', or rather it should be understood as an amplification of its meaning since it implies that in the afterlife we will live in a different sort of way, in a different 'home'.

The Magnification

Whereas variations were used on occasion in the Cross's sermon as a device for closure, these variations and expansions typify the dreamer's reflections, swelling the passage's volume far more.