The New Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for 1998 AD\nTHE NEW ANGLO-SAXON CHRONICLE 1998 AD: TIDUNGA ON ENGLISCE MCMXCVIII AD Pointers to monthly sections 1998Mar 1998Apr 1998May 1998Jun 1998Jul 1998Aug 1998Sep 1998Oct 1998Nov 1998Dec\nAnno MCMXCVIII Hreðmonað\n- Her for Wilhelm Americae foresittend innan on Africam þætte he mihte sprecan frið ond eft gefeccan þæt þe he hæfð of his weorðnesse forloren. Forðy on his agenum lande wurde gesægd þæt he hæfde forlegen mid oðrum wifum. Þa sceoldon his gewitan gecunnian gif þis sie soð ac þendan wæs his ar læssa. Ac eac on Africam wæs him Suðafricae foresittend grimm þæt America wæs his lande wrað þæs freondscipes mid Cubam ond Libyam. Þa sægde him Nelson Mandela foresittend þæt hi wæron him æfre freond swa þætte hi him sceolden simbel beon freond on tocyman eacswa. Eac on Africam, mon cwiþþ þæt þær bið sona foresittendcyre1) on þæm rice, Mozambique gehaten, þe on suþdæle þæs miclan landes is. Nis þæt lytel þing on þissum earman rice, on þæm wæs micel folcgefeoht betwux twæm folcum. Weneð mon nu þæt folcgeweald2) þurhwunian sceal.\n- On þissum geare mihte folc on Francarice ceosan ealdormenn þæra scira. Hwelcu ungesælð! Forðy on hierum ofermode hæfdon hi wiðstanden þæs foresittendes ealdormenn on þæm scirum ond nu is þriddel þæra ealdormenn þe hi gecoren hæfdon þæs ilcan folcdæles þe forhogieð þæra wellisca on Francarice swa swa hi wæren barbarae. Þa eft noldon oðre ealdormenn mid him wyrcan for to nemnienne fram hiera gemang anne scirref swa þæt þær sindon nu scira þe næbbað scirref. Ond on Parise wæs þær folcunræst ongegn þissum "Folces Orde" forðy hi nillað hie habban swa ealdormenn.\n- Ond on Americam on Jonesboro in Arkansas lande hæfdon twa cnapan þe næfdon git ðrietien gearas feower mæden gecwolen mid sceotgewere4) ond eacswa hiera lareowestran. Þa wæs eall America on gnornunge ac þa ealre worulde ofer wæs mannum murniende mod. Uton us gebiddan for hiera cynne ond mægðe ond freondum þætte him Dryhten gife ræst ond þætte þa cildu on hiera lareowestre hæbben ecu lif ond þæt God sie þam twam cnapum milde! Amen.\n- On Germaniam mihte folc on þæm scire Niðersaxe ceosan ealdormenn ond scirref. Ond se scirref þæs folcdæles wið þæm heahgewitan Helmode hæfde þesne freond geslogen on folcgetæle. Nilleð folc Helmod swa heahgewitan na mare forðy he is git on mægne siððan mcmlxxx ond nu is he eald. Ac eacswa is Germania on unræste forðy þa twa ealddælas sindon togæder siððan mcmxc ond niedgeld is heah.\n1 foresittendcyre = presidential elections\n2 folcgeweald = democracy\n3 sceotgewer (n) = `shooting gun' [neologism based on Dutch geweer and German Gewehr, from the verb werian 'to defend']\nAnno MCMXCVIII Eastermonað\n- Bið Wilhelm Americae foresittend bliðe, forðon se ærest þysses monaðes hæfð sum demend toworpen þa bespræce his onspecendes. Bið Paula Jones sorgful ond ierremod; ne sculon ure ealdras beon rihta gebæra ond sida bisenas?\n- Atolas windas habbað forhergod Alabama land. Her wæs micel cyrm, deað ond sorg.\n- Seo woruld ætgædere mid þæm Dalai Lama murneð æt þæm fyrdeaðe1) sumes mannes of Tibetalande. Þes man hine acwealde on selfmorðre2) þa he hine forbarn, forðon þe næfð Chinaland noht onlysode his folc fram hiere clammum.\n1 fyrdeað = death by burning\n2 acwellan on selfmorðor = commit suicide\nContributions by Michel van der Hoek, Sarah L. Higley and Melissa Bernstein.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Ðrimilcemonað\n- Þa India cunnedon wæpnu micelre forspillednese, for ðon beoð monig ealdoras in þisse worulde geomore. Nu Chinalond ond Pakistan onbidað fæhþe. Nan man wat, hwæðer þa Indie hie þreatian mihten. Þa ealdoras Pakistanes eac cunnedon wæpen micelre forspillednese, ond fife siðum, forðon hiera folc wolde þaet hi swa dyde. Þa ealdoras Pakistanes maðelodon, ond þas ricu, aer gebroðor, nu ofer mearce stearcferhðlic1) þeowraciað. Ealle hiera habbað wæpnu micelre forspillednesse. Eastdælas acwacað, ond eac westdælas.\n- Læcas in Americalande fundon læcewyrte þe is "Viagra" haten. Nu menn þe ær ne swifað, mid wife hæman magon. Micel feoh cumeð, soðlice.\n- Wyrd forsweop Frank Sinatra to metodsceafte. He wæs scop and macede monige plegan in Americalande ond cuðe breme menn. Oft he cwæð, "Ic hit dyde minum wege", ond þæt wæs soð.\n- Her on þissum monaðe wearð folccyre on Iralonde, on þæm scolde mon ceosan oððe frið betwux him oððe geflita ma. Se þeodscipe wile nu þæt fana gehwilc to maðelstede cume ond þæt þa fyrendæda nu swiðrien. Þeah þe sume menn nellað þisses geþafian, man mot secgan to soðe þæt frið bið on Iralonde ma þonne æfre ær.\n- Her, on þæm .xxi. dæge þæs Ðrimilcemonaðes, on þæm dæge þære upastignesse Cristi, stop Suharto Indonesiæ foresittend of þæs stoles on þæm he hæfde gericsod .xxxii. wintras for ðon þe næfde he mægen to gebetanne landes ceapungstaðol ond feoh. Þeah þæt he æt ærestum hæfde geholpen foldbuendum wæron hi him wraðe for spedlosinge ond for unarlicum gewealde ond for unmennisclicum gebærum wið þæm folce forðy æt ende gedag nan butan him ond his hiwum. Ond þa feng Habibi foresittend to rice þe ær wæs underforesittend2) ac hine nolde þæt folc þæt he weolde mægen on lande forðy he wæs Suhartan freond. Þeah wæs seo þeod mirþful þæt Suharto næs foresittend na lengra.\n- For hwy forsleað cildru oðere cildru? Eft hæfð sum geong cnapa, bi naman Kip Kinkel, acwelled twegen geongra leornera æt his scole3) on Oregonanlande, ond eac his moder ond fæder. He was butan fiftiene geara, ond he hæfde micel yrres, micel yfeles, ond fyrstæf4) him on handum.\n- Þeos fyrendæd onhyrgeð þa bisena þæra gelicra fyrendæda þe oðere cnapas habbað gedon on Arkansas ond on Pennsylvania. For hwy sind ure geong cnapas on Americalande swa wælhreowas? For hwy magon hie swa eaðelic habban fyrstæfas ond oðere wæpen?\n1 stearcferhðlic = harshly\n2 underforesittend = vice-president\n3 scol = school\n4 fyrstæf = gun ("fire-stick")\nContributions by: Michel van der Hoek, Sarah L. Higley, Jeff Sypeck and Stephen Pollington.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Midsumermonað\n- Her on þæm fruman þæs Midsumermonaðes onfeng guð on Eritrean-lande mid hiera eald-oferwaldendum, þæm Sigelhearwum1), þæt is Ethiopan-lande. Wearð Eritrea-land geo feawra geara freoland þæra Sigelhearwa ac þeah hie wæron siþ on friðe næfdon hie ánnes2) ofer mearcum swa þætte hie þa ongunnon gefeoht. Eall þa fremde flugon utan of lande.\n- Eac on þissum monaðe settode dema on Americam, þæt is on þæm lande þe wicingas nemnodon Winland, dom for Louise Woodward. Heo wæs git for cradolcild-morðre gedemed ac heo sægde þæt heo wære unforwyrhtu3). Nu wæs dom gefæstnod þurh oðre deman ond begen ræddon þæt heo næfde cild niðes acweld ac for hiere unduguðe. Ac heo ne sceolde on carcern forðy heo wæs git on carcerne for þissum misdæde. For ðon þe heo næs of Americaniscum folce ac of Angelseaxum sceolde heo utan of lande on Englaland þær hiere cynn libbde ond hæfde swæsendu4) þæt heo næs na lengra on carcerne.\n- Ond on Geogoslafian-lande biþ niw unræst, nu on þæm scire þe hateð Cosofa. Will folc on Cosofa, þe of Albaniscum blode is ond na Serfoslafiscu gereord spreceð ac Albaniscu, freodom þæra Geogoslafa. Þa com Milosevic Geogoslafa foresittend, mid fyrde to gewinnanne andsacan on Cosofa-lande. Fela menn wurdon gecweld ond oðre flugon on Ælbaniam. Þa sendde NATO, þæt sind land on Europam mid Americam ond Canada-lande, fleogfyrd5) on Cosofa to fleoganne ofer swa þætte Milosevic ne wurde cwellan ma menn.\n- William Clinton, Americae foresittend, wæs on Cinalande nigon dagas. He spræc mid þæm forsittende þæs Cinesiscan folcgewealdes, Iang Iemin, ond mid ærendwriterum6) ofer werþeodrihtum7). Sægde he þæt Cinaland sceolde beon mare mennisclicru ond þæt he wæs gedrefed ofer unræste on þæm Ciananmenn-staðle on .mcmlxxxix.. Eac spræc he for cristeniscum freodome on þæm lande.\n1 Sigelhearwa = Ethiopians\n2 ánnes = agreement\n3 unforwyrht = innocent\n4 swæsendu (npl) = feast\n5 fleogfyrd (f) = airforce (lit. 'flying army')\n6 ærendwritere = journalist (lit. 'message-writer'))\n7 werþeodrihtum = human rights\nContributions by: Michel van der Hoek.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Æfterra Liða\n- Her eorðstyren under sæ arærede þa miclan yð þe hatte tsunami, ond heo sloh þone norðernan særiman þaes landes Papua Niwes Guinean ond acwellede six þusend menn, for þy seo yð wearð swa heah swa treowas þenden heo stah on undiepðe, ond se særimamere æt Sissano wearþ gefylled mid licum and gebrocenum husum. Godes miltse sie on hira sawlum ond on þam þe oferlibbað þær ean bigleofum.\nContribution by Anthony Appleyard.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Weodmonað\n- Her wearð micel fyrendaed on Iralande þe þæt frið geendian scolde. Siex ond twintig menn ofslægene nu sind fram anum utberstendum wægenwæpne, swa swa giet on Africalondum menn sturfon. Wea bið þæm þe worhton.\n- Her on Africam on Nairobi ond on Dar es Salaam (þe in Arabgereorde segþ Friðhus) sume mid utberstendum wægenwæpnum sohton forbrecan þa Americiscan ombehthus, ond hie ofslogon manige menn, þara se maesta dæl wæron Sigelwarafolc þæs landes þe næron on ænigum gefeohte þeodum. For hwy? Nahwæðer Godes word, ne Allahes word þe hatte al-Qur'ân, þæt is se Curan, alyfeð swylc slohtre manna for gefeohte oððe to wrecanne. And þider Israhel sendde menn mid hundum to secanne þa gebyrgede under gefallenum stanum.\nHer ongean ofer grunde   wearð great and deop\nflod ofer feldum   þær on folde oft,\non Bangladeshe   bealo doð wætru.\nIn eormenbeorgum,   Eorðes hiehstum,\nHimalaya,   hearde and lange\nregnwolcnas ridon   reðe of heahsæ\nwiþ Tibetes weallum   and torrbeorgum\nofer cealdum clifum,   Kangchenjunga\nand Chomolungma1),   þæt to ceorllandum\ngað to Gangan   greate wætru\nsæ secende   secga þurh earde,\neastan þurh ceastrum,   Allahabad\nand Benares haligum,   to Bangladeshe,\nne nu gebunden wyrtum   beorgwealdtreowa\næfter menn fylledon   manige hyrstas,\nholtas in hyllum.   Under heam wætrum\nBangladesh læg.   Brahmaputra\neac of easte   innan lædde\nmihtige wætru.   Hwæt to mannum þær\nwile God deman   to þæm greatum folce?\nFela eafloda,   and hwilum forð of sæ\nhweolstorm gehliepð,   se hearmscaða mæra.\nHronrad swa hyllas   heah wæs aræred.\nSærimaweall slad,   þa secgas adruncon,\nHatia ieg wæs   under holmes yðum,\nand oðrum tide   tuciende garsecg\nSandwip lecgede   under sæs meahte.\nFlodas aflowað,   feldas drygað,\nac unwæstm wearð,   and weste is eard,\nhungor and unhælo,   heddærn æmtig.\n1 Chomolungma is Tibetan name for Mount Everest\nContributions by Steve Pollington and Anthony Appleyard. The verse entry was written by Anthony Appleyard.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Hærfestmonað\n- Her wæs eorðstyren ymb Dushanbe in Tajikistane.\n- Her se folc fand þæt Bill Clinton American foresittend oft hæfde gebeon on wifcyþþe mid Monica Lewinsky, þeah ær he segde fore manigum þæt he næfre wæs on wifcyþþe mid hire. Ond manige ascodon: æfter þæm þæt he leag ymb ane wife, durron we truwian hine ymb mare geþinge rices?\n- Ac oðer folc magon acsian, ond hi habbað, hwæðre þa misdæde Clintones -- þæt he wæs on wifcyððe mid anre wife on æwbryce and sægde under aðe þæt he næs — weorðað grund þæt he sceal beon aworpen of his hade. Þurfon we forleosan ure foresittend onmiddan þære ofersælican fæhðu?\n- Ond oðer folc magon acsian ond hi habbað hwæðre hit bið Starres misdæd ond þæs Huses þæt he hæfð awriten ond hie þære worulde gecyðan þæt micel cyrcelwyrdboc 1) wið Clinton ond Lewinsky ond eale heora dyrnan word ond dæde; þæt hit bið for laðe ond noht for rihte þæt hie habbað ealle fordon þa lif geonges wifes; ond þeah þe heo næs gyltleas, þæt heo wæs no ðy læs beswicode noht ane be ane foresittende, ac be ane lawihtan ond his hwispriandan wifhadan rædboran Linda Tripp. Is þeos riht? Læteð hine þe beoþ butan gylt awearpan ðone ærestne stan... Manig folca on Americalonde healdað ge an ge oðer þoht. Ic nat nan wisdom her.\n- Her mihtig hweolstorm gehaten Georges cwom mid greatum regne ond winde ond sæ-upgonge of eastan on Caribbean-iegum ond micle ond yfle tobræc ðone wæstm ond unrim bledtreowa ond husa manna, ond ofsloh .ccclxxxi. menn. He cwom on Guadeloupe ond Dominican ond ofereode eall þæt, ond þa to anum dæle Cuban, ond þa onstah on Americaniscum lande on Mississippi-lande, ac his miht gewanode æfter he afor of his sæ on lande. Ac he ne cwom to þære micelra ceastre New Orleans ne to þæm stede woruldrum-farena 2) þe is æt Cape Canaveral.\n- Her on þissum monaðe wæs folccyre on Germania-lande ond folc ceas þæt se ealdþegn Helmut Kohl, landes heahþegn eft .xvi. gearum sceolde þone cynestol alætan (for ðon þe se heahðegn hæfð þær mare mægen þonne se foresittend) ond nu sceal Gerhard Schröder to rice fangan eft þæt he hæfð niw witenagemot gegaðerod. Hlæst on him bið great for þy weorcleast 3) on Germaniam is heah þurh þa geanlæcunge 4) þær þæt earm eald eastdæl Germania-landes mid þam weligan westdæle on annes com. Nu sceal Gerhard Schröder helpan mid þære annes on Europa. Ac mæg he þa wyrcan? Þæt sceolde seo woruld hire acsian forþy nu sceal Joschka Fischer beon Utanlandscealc 5) ond for feowerum gearum ne ðohte man on Germania þæt "Þa Grenan", þæt is his mægenwerod 6), þæt he nis þæm mægne weorðe.\n1 cyrcelwyrdboc = "computer speech book", i.e. internet publication.\n2 woruldrum-faran = "space travellers", i.e. astronauts.\n3 weorcleast = unemployment.\n4 ge.ánlæcung = (German) Reunification.\n5 Utanlandscealc = Foreign Secretary.\n6 mægenwerod (m) = "power-band", i.e. political party.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Winterfylleð\n- Her on þissum monðe wæs micel stormsæ geworden þe wolde forspillan landa fela geond middangearde. On þæm westdæle Englalandes mon scolde rowan fram his huse, life ond feoh to nerigenne, ond se flod adrencte wilddeor monig. Geond sæwe on Winlande, þe man eacswa nemneð America-lande, wurden hus ond getimbru fordone be þæm atolan garsecge.\n- Her micel ond strang hweolstorm Mitch gehaten swiðe sloh dǣl Midamerican ond ofsloh seofon þusend menn ond forheriode þæt land. His flod ofsloh .ccxlviii. menn in Tegucigalpa þe is Hondurases heafodstede, ond in Nicaraguan ðurh his miclan regne se mere in þæm muðe þæs fyrbeorges Casitas utbærst mid hore 1) ond treowum ond stanum ond bebyrgede .ml. menn in .iv. wicum þe wunodon in dæle under þæm fyrbeorge. Man segþ þæt .lv. inceas regnes feollon in Hondurases beorgum oþþe ma.\n- Her ongean John Glenn worldrummann 2) wearð gescoten ut of eorðes lyfte, in anum Space Shuttle, ond he wæs .lxxxiv. wintru eald, swa geo scopas sungon `har hilderinc'. Ond he felamodig is, þæt he ongean in woruldrumreafe ride mihtigne fyrcræft þa him ieldo wæs.\n- Her in Kosovo wearð frið for anum tide, ond manige Albanisce menn þe flugon ðonne Serbas hergodon hira land mid fyre, cuðon gan ongegn to hira husum, æfter Englaland ond America woldon sendan guðlyftscipu 3) wið þæm Serbiscan here þe wæs in Kosovo. Ac se guðhearmweorca Slobodan Milosevic Iugoslaviae foresittend is giet freo.\n- Kosovo-land is deor in þara Serba heortum, æfter micel Turcisc here ofsloh ða Serbiscre fyrd on Kosovo Polje (þe in Serbgereorde is Oslefeld 4)) ond nom eall þæt land, ond on þæm dæge feollon Lazar tsar Serbiae ond Murad sultan Turclandes, ond þa Turcas ahton wælstowe gewald. Ond þa Muslimiscan Turcas swiðe getawodon þa Serbas, ond æfter þæt Suleiman sultan ofsloh ða Hungariscre fyrd æt Mohács ond nom Hungarian ond Turcas oft sare hergodon hit þæt hit wearð æmettig, þæt manige Serbas flugon ond wunodon in norðlandum gemang Croatum on in þæm dælum Hungarian þe nu hatton Slavonia ond seo Vojvodina. Ond manige Albanisce cwomon ond wunodon þær Serbas wunodon ær, for micel land was nu æmettig. Ond in Geolmonaðe .mdccclxxviii. æfter þæt Serbia nomon Nish of Turclande, Serbas utdrifon swiðe hearde ond unrihte ymb .cxviii. þusend Albaniscra folces of landum ymb Morava-ea betweox Nish ceastre ond Kosovo mearce in wintersnawe, ond manige hira flugon to Kosovo-lande. Ond þenden in geare .mcmxii. Serbia ond Grecland ond Montenegro ond Bulgaria fuhton wið Turclande, Serbas nomon Kosovoland of þæm Turcum ond twegen dagas fuhton hearde wið Turcum æt Kumanovo ond ahton wælstowe gewald; ond Serbas forheriodon þone Albaniscne folc in Kosovolande ond eac in Albanian sylfe þenden hie eodon þurh Malësi beorgum to sæ æt Durrës. Ond þurh manigum gearum æfterra þa Serbas ne dydon rihte mid þæm Albaniscum folce.\n1 horh = mud.\n2 woruldrumman = "space man", i.e. astronaut.\n3 guðlyftscip = "war-airship", i.e. warplane.\n4 Oslefeld = Field of Blackbirds.\nContributions by: Steve Pollington, Anthony Appleyard.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Blotmonað\n- Æfter aeode se hweolstorm Mitch, .xvii. þusend menn wæron deade, oððe man ne mæg findan hie, ond .mcd. þusend menn sind ean husum. In Hondurase he stod þreo dagas þenden he fordyde þæt land ond þa bledtreowas ond þone wæstm ond .xc. brycga: Godes miltse sie on þæm landum! Ne in .ccxviii. gearum hweolstorm dyde swylc micel hearm in þæm landum. Æfter þæt aeode Mitch, in Nicaraguam se fyrbeorg Cerro Negro (þe segð: Blæc Beorg) utbærst mid æsce ond gemoltenum stane, ac ne ofsloh mann. Æfter þæm, Mitch eode to norðan to þæm Floridiscum Cægum, ac his miht wæs micle gesweðrode: ond he rann to eastan ofer heahsæ ond cwom to Iralande ond to Scotlande, ond þær fyllede manige treowas ond sloh þara landa særiman.\n- Her æt Ieper in Belga land, in ceastre ond æt þæm Menin-geate, wæs halig begong, for þæm þe wæs eahtatigoða gear æfter endode seo micla formanigsleanda 1) guð þe man misðohte þæt seo endode ealle guðe. Ond Elizabeð cwen Englalandes wæs þær, to lecganne hweol bloma. Ond, swa a gelamp, ongean eodon þider sume þe fuhton on þære guðe, þe geo wæron manige swa hloð 2), ac nu hie wæron buton siex, ond hie wæron oreald, ond he þe spræc for þæm hloðe wæs hundteontig wintru eald. Ond hie eodon to oðrum stedum þær wæs gefeoht ond great deað in þara guðe, swa Polygon-wudu þe hatte rihte Bois du Polygone. God forbidde þat ongean gelimpe swylce guð!\n1 formanigsleand = "many-slaying"\n2 hloð = troop.\nContributions by: Anthony Appleyard.\nAnno MCMXCVIII Geolmonað\n- Her sið ond late wearð ongean getimbrod ond gehalgod seo micla synagoga in þæm ceastre in Pola lande þe a hatte in Pola gereorde Oswiecim, ond in Pola gereorde "o-swiec-" segð "ymb-halgian"; ac in Germana gereorde seo ceaster lange hatte Auschwitz, oððæt se deaðstede wearð getimbrod þær ond nom þæt nama ond þæt nama wearð drædlic word. Þær on .xxvi. dæge Æfterran Geola in geare .mcmxcv. wæs micel folgung, for þæm þe wæs þæt fyftigoða gear æfter þæt se stede wearð gefreoged.\n- Her Pinochet þe wæs in ærdagum foresittend Chile-landes wearþ genomen in æwe hæftnoþe þenden he wæs in seochuse in Lundenbyrig, for þæm þe sume secgaþ þæt þenden he ricsode Chile he sendede mcd menn to deaþe ond manige to tintrege, ond sume þara wæron Hispanisce ond Hispania wysceþ deman hine for þissum deaþum. Ond sume Chilisce menn secgaþ þæt þeos demung sie riht dæd ond sume secgaþ þæt þeos sie unriht.\n- Her æt Surat Thanin in Thailande lyftscip feoll of rodore to eorðe ond cwellede .ci. menn þe wæron in him.\n- Her ge yrres ældlas ge yrres wordas habbað gefeallen on Iraq ond on ure American foresittend onlice, ond hwa mæg witan gif hit is wisdom oþþe noht? Englaland ond America sendedon guþlyftscipu þe sare slogon Iraq, for þæm þe Saddam Hussein þe ricsaþ Iraq nolde alyfian weorcan þa menn þe sohton unrihte wæpn.\n- Her æt Loccerby in Dumfries-scire in Scotlande wæs halig begong1), for þæm þe wæs tienð gear æfter þæt sume menn fordrifene be þæm deofle settedon utberstend in miclum lyftscipe, þæt hit feoll þær ond ofsloh eall þe wæron in him, ond hie wæron formanige, ond sume þe wæron in husum on grunde.\n- Her siþ ond late man gerædede þæt Clinton foresittend sceal gan fore deman for þæm þe he aleag ymb Monican Lewinski.\n- Her endeð þæt ærest gear þæra New Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, þæt wæs .mcmxcviii., on internet. We þanciað eallum þa þe midgeweorced habbað to writenne hiere ond we hopiað þæt ge ealle sende us mare eowra wordcræfta on þæm niwan geare.\n. xx d: Her in Houston in Texase Nkem Chukwu acennede seofon cildru ætgædre ond on .viii. dæge ærra heo acennede án cild, ond ealle eahta wurdon acennede libbende. Ond heo is Nigerialandisc.


Þe Fall of þe Huse of Uscer - The Anglish Wiki\nÞe Fall of þe Huse of Uscer\nWent by Cascadia\n(His heart is a seemed gamewood\nAs soon as man rines it, it rings.)\n- De Béranger.\nÞROUTE þe hole of a dull, dark, and ludeless day in þe fall of þe year, when þe cludes hung heafy and smoþering in þe heafens, ice had been faring alone, on hoseback, þro a sundrily dreary deal of land; and at lengþ fund myself, as þe scades of þe efening drew on, wiþin site of þe unbliþe Huse of Uscer. Ice know not hue it was—but, wiþ þe first site of þe bilding, an anyet of unþolenly gloom steeped my goast. Ice say unþolenly; for þe feeling was unlissed by any of þat halfwinsum, for ice am a leeþer, feeling, wiþ whice þe mind wontly fangs efen þe sternest kindly sites of þe dreadful or forlorn. Ice looked upon þe site before me—upon þe bare huse, and þe ofold landscape marks of þe stead—upon þe lorn walls—upon þe emty eyelike windows—upon a few rank sedges—and upon a few white stocks of rotten trees—wiþ an utter sorrow of þe sowl whice ice can liken to no earþly anyet more fittingly þan to þe afterdream of þe spiller upon poppy tears—þe bitter slip into eferyday life—þe atel dropping off of þe wimpel. Þere was an isiness, a sinking, a sickening of þe heart—an unleesed dreariness of þawt whice no goading of þe faþoming cood beat into awt of þe great. What was it—ice stopped to þink—what was it þat so upset me in þe faþoming of þe Huse of Uscer? It was a rune all in darkness; nor cood ice grappel wiþ þe scadowy þawts þat cruded upon me as ice pored. Ice was made to fall back upon þe bitesum end, þat while, beyond twee, þere are fays of trewly ofold kindly þings whice hafe þe þrake of þus swaying us, still þe scruttening of þis þrake lies among umbeþinkings beyond ure depþ. It was mitely, ice þawt, þat but a sundry diting of þe bits of þe site, of þe marks of þe meting, wood be enuff to wend, or mayhaps to fell its main for sorrowful sway; and, iting upon þis begrip, ice drew my horse to þe steep bank of a black and gory pool þat lay in unstirred sceen by þe dwelling, and stared dune—but wiþ a reesing efen more þrilling þan before—upon þe eftscaped and whelfed sites of þe gray sedge, and þe gastly treestems, and þe emty and eyelike windows.\nNeferþeless, in þis bold of gloom ice nue put forþ to myself an abode of sum weeks. Its owner, Roderick Uscer, had been one of my good frends in knafehood; but many years had gone by sinse ure last meeting. An errandwrit, huefer, had lately reaced me in a farlen deal of þe land—an errandwrit from him—whice, in its wildly dogged way, had bid of no oþer þan a selfly answer. Þe writ yafe seeþing of a deep angness. Þe writ spoke of stark bodily illness—of a sickness of þe mind whice oferset him—and of an earnest list to see me, as his best, and indeed his only trew frend, wiþ a goal of fanding, by þe merriness of my fellowscip, sum liss to his tray. It was þe way in whice all þis, and muce more, was said—it was þe seenly heart þat went wiþ his bead—whice atiþed no room for diþering; and so ice heeded forþwiþ what ice still held to be a full sundry cying.\nAlþow, as knafes, we had been efen nie þofts, ice trewly knew littel of my frend. His farl had been always fulsum and wont. Ice was aware, huefer, þat his full fern maiþ had been marked, time ute of mind, for a sundry hoad of mind, scowing itself, þro long elds, in many works of aheafed list, and atewed, of late, in eftledged yifel, yet not scowy deeds, as well as in earnest willsumness to þe smallest marks, mayhaps efen more þan to þe riteframed and eaþ acknowenly lites, of gleecraft. Ice had learned too, þe full markenly trewþ, þat þe stock of þe Uscer strind, all timeworþied as it was, had put forþ, at no time, any lasting buw; in oþer words, þat þe hole maiþ lay in þe strateforward bloodline, and had always, wiþ full slite and full tidely scifts, so lain. It was þis wem, ice faþomed, while running ofer in þawt þe fulframed keeping of þe eard of þe grunds wiþ þe hie eard of þe folk, and while waying upon þe mitely sway whice þe one, in þe long span of yearhundreds, mite hafe willed upon þe oþer—it was þis wem, mayhaps, of oþer þrake, and þe following unswaying becwest, from faþer to sun, of þe erfe wiþ þe name, whice had, at lengþ, so branded þe two as to fay þe form ekename of þe huse in þe ferly and cludy name of þe “Huse of Uscer”—a name whice seemed to inhold, in þe minds of þe cerlfolk who spoke it, boþ þe maiþ and þe huse itself.\nIce hafe said þat þe lone rine of my sumwhat cildisce fand—þat of looking dune wiþin þe pool—had been to deepen þe first sundry inþruce. Þere can be no twee þat þe cwickness of þe swift rise of my offgalþ—for why scood ice not so name it?—worked mainly to cwicken þe rise itself. Suce, ice hafe long known, is þe backwards ea of all feelings hafing dread as a staddel. And it mite hafe been for þis grund only, þat, when ice ayen uplifted my eyes to þe huse itself, from its glass in þe pool, þere grew in my mind an uncanny þawt—a þawt so laffenly, indeed, þat ice but bring it up to scow þe striking mite of þe feelings whice onsat me. Ice had so worked upon my faþoming as trewly to beleefe þat abute þe hole huse and grunds þere hung an whiþ sundry to hemselfes and hir niemost nayborhood—a whiþ whice had no cooþness wiþ þe lift of heafen, but whice had reeked up from þe rotten trees, and þe gray wall, and þe full still pool—a coaþed and runy mist, dull, heafy, barely toknowenly, and leadenhewed.\nScaking off from my goast what must hafe been a dream, ice conned more narrowly þe trew kind of þe bilding. Its main cost seemed to be þat of a fulsum eld. Þe mishewing of elds had been great. Tiny swambs oferspread þe hole uteside, hanging in a fine knotted webwork from þe eafes. Yet all þis was asunder from any markworþy wrake. No deal of þe stonework had fallen; and þere seemed to be a wild unefenness between its still fulframed faying of deals, and þe crumbeling hoad of þe sundry stones. In þis þere was muce þat brawt to my mind þe misleading holeness of old woodwork whice has rotted for long years in sum foryetten wholf, wiþ no rine from þe breaþ of þe uteside lift. Beyond þis mark of widegale rot, huefer, þe cloþ yafe littel token of unsundness. Mayhaps þe eye of a scruttening wacer mite hafe fund a barely ayettenly cine, whice, strecing from þe roof of þe bilding in fore, made its way dune þe wall in a winding paþ, hent it became lost in þe gloomy waters of þe pool. Ayetting þese þings, ice rode ofer a scort bridge to þe huse. A hew in biding num my horse, and ice infared þe Gottisce wholf of þe hall. A hine, of stealþy step, þense drew me, in roo, þro many dark and knotted hallways in my forþgang to þe workscop of his master. Muce þat ice saw on þe way eked, ice know not hue, to hiþen þe unsuttel feelings of whice ice hafe already spoken. While þe þings abute me—while þe grafings of þe firsts, þe grim hangings of þe walls, þe rafen blackness of þe flores, and þe dreamlike sceelds and weapons whice ratteled as ice strode, were but þings to whice, or to suce as whice, ice had been wont from my babehood—while ice diþered not to acknowledge hue cooþ was all þis—ice still wundered to find hue uncooþ were þe dreams whice eferyday sites were stirring up. On one of þe stairwells, ice met þe leece of þe maiþ. His ansen, ice þawt, wore a mingeled look of liþer cunning and rune. He naid me wiþ misyeafing and went on. Þe hine nue þrew open a dore and brawt me into þe naywist of his master.\nÞe room in whice ice fund myself was full great and lifty. Þe windows were long, narrow, and scarp, and at so great a farl from þe black oaken flore as to be altogeþer unrinenly from wiþin. Mainless gleams of reddened lite made hir way þro þe hirdeled glass, and made sundry enuff þe more utestanding þings abute; þe eye, huefer, fawt bleadlessly to reace þe more farlen whems of þe room, or þe halks of þe whilfed and lined first. Dark hangings were upon þe walls. Þe mean idisce was many, cweamless, fern, and scredded. Many books and tools of gleecraft lay strewn abute, but trucked in yeafing any life to þe site. Ice felt þat ice breaþed a whiþ of sorrow. A lift of stern, deep, and unleesenly gloom hung ofer and steeped all. Upon my infare, Uscer arose from a streen on whice he had been lying at full lengþ, and greeted me wiþ a lifely warmþ whice had muce in it, ice at first þawt, of an oferdone heartiness—of þe bund work of þe weary man of þe world. A look, huefer, at his ansen, swayed me of his fulframed lutterness. We sat dune; and for sum britoms, while he spoke not, ice looked upon him wiþ a feeling half of rewþ, half of aye. Wisly, man had nefer before so dreadfully wended, in so scort a time, as had Roderick Uscer! It was wiþ hardscip þat ice cood bring myself to andet þe selfsameness of þe wan being before me wiþ þe þoft of my early knafehood. Yet þe eard of his anlet had been at all times markworþy. A licelike blee; an eye great, watery, and brite beyond likening; lips sumwhat þin and full blake, but of a trewly liteful bow; a nose of a nesce Ebrisce scape, but wiþ a breadþ of nostril seldseen in þose alike; a smickerly scaped cin, speaking, in its wane of utestandingness, of a wane of ritewise strengþ; hair of a more þan weblike softness and þinness; þese hallmarks, wiþ a fulsum farl abufe þe deal of þe þunwang, made up altogeþer an ansen not eaþ foryetten. And nue in but þe oferblowing of þe rixing eard of þese costs, and of þe look hie were wont to tell, lay so muce of wend þat ice tweed to whom ice spoke. Þe nue gastly blee of þe hame, and þe nue selcooþ gleam of þe efe, abufe all þings starteled and efen ayed me. Þe silken hair, too, had been þoled to grow all unheeded, and as, in its wild cobweb woof, it floated raþer þan fell abute þe anlet, ice cood not, efen wiþ work, lence its Arabisce ansen wiþ any begrip of mean mankind.\nIn þe hoad of my frend ice was at onse struck wiþ an anyetlessness—a sunderhood; and ice soon fund þis to arise from a set of mainless and sorry fands to ofercum a wont how—an orn angness. For sumþing of þis kind ice had indeed been ready, no less by his errandwrit, þan by aminds of wiss knafisce costs, and by ends drawn from his ferly bodily frame and mood. His deeds were lifely and dull stefenmeal. His stefen sundered swiftly from a cwifering diþer (when þe deerly goasts seemed utterly alaid) to þat stock of lifely scortness—þat cwick, waity, unhurried, and hollow-luding speece—þat leaden, selfefened and fulframedly tweaked uttering, whice may be beheld in þe lost drunk, or þe uneftnimmenly eater of poppy tears, midst þe times of his greatest giddiness. It was þus þat he spoke of þe goal of my neesing, of his earnest list to see me, and of þe liss he weened me to aford him. He infared, at sum lengþ, into what he þawt to be þe kind of his illness. It was, he said, an inborn and a maiþ efel, and one for whice he had no hope of finding a lokening—but an angness, he eked cwickly, whice wood wisly soon go. It scowed itself in a drite of unkindly feelings. Sum of þese, as he told hem, gripped and bewildered me; alþow, mayhaps, þe words, and þe altogeþer way of þe telling had hir wait. He þoled muce from an ayful scarpness of þe anyets; þe most unmaggel food was alone þolenly; he cood wear only cloþes of a wiss woof; þe smells of all blossoms were too heafy; his eyes were tintrayed by efen a wan lite; and þere were but sundry ludes, and þese from stringed tools, whice did not tend wiþin him dread.\nTo a ferly breed of dread ice fund him a bund þew. “Ice scall swind,” said he, “ice must swind in þis woeful unwisdom. Þus, þus, and not oþerwise, scall ice be lost. Ice dread þe befallings to cum, not in hemselfes, but in hir utecums. Ice reese at þe þawt of any, efen þe smallest, befalling, whice may frem upon þis unþolenly upheafing of sowl. Ice hafe, indeed, no hatred of plee, but for in its trewest rine—in fear. In þis scaken—in þis arm hoad—ice feel þat þe time will sooner or later cum when ice must forsake life and rode togeþer, in sum fite wiþ þe grim scinelock, FEAR.”\nIce learned, moreofer, betwixtfacks, and þro broken and unwiss hints, anoþer sundry cost of his illness of mind. He was trapped by sundry offgalþs as to þe dwelling whice he inearded, and whense, for many years, he had nefer fared forþ—as to a rine whose foken þrake was told in words too scadowy here to be eftsaid—a rine whice sum selcooþnesses in þe scape and anwork itself of his eþel, had, by dint of long þoling, he said, oferwon his goast—a rine whice þe body of þe gray walls and tors, and of þe dim pond into whice hie all looked dune, had, at lengþ, brawt abute upon þe heart of his being.\nHe andetted, huefer, alþow wiþ drecing, þat muce of þe selcooþ gloom whice þus swenced him cood be drawn to a more kindly and far more rinenly spring—to þe stark and lengþy illness—indeed to þe suttely nearing end—of a muce belufed sister—his lone þost for long years—his last and only kin on earþ. “Her deaþ,” he said, wiþ a bitterness whice ice can nefer foryet, “wood leafe him (him þe hopeless and þe woke) þe last of þe fern stock of þe Uscers.” While he spoke, þe lady Madeline (for so was sce cied) walked slowly þro a farlen deal of þe room, and, wiþute hafing underyat my naywist, swinded. Ice deemed her wiþ an utter forwundering not unmingeled wiþ dread—and yet ice fund it unmitely to yeafe grund for suce feelings. An anyet of dullness onsat me, as my eyes followed her wiþdrawing steps. When a dore, at lengþ, clused upon her, my site sawt akindily and earnestly þe ansen of þe broþer—but he had beried his anlet in his hands, and ice cood only ayet þat a far more þan kindly wanness had oferspread þe wanþrifen fingers þro whice trickeled many whistful tears.\nÞe illness of þe lady Madeline had long astunded þe glewness of her leeces. A setteled listlessness, a stepwise dwining of þe leed, and often alþow fleeting swences of stiffening of þe lims, were þe geason weening. Hiþerto sce had steadily born up ayenst þe wait of her sickness, and had not written herself off to þe bed forefer; but, on þe closing in of þe efening of my lending at þe huse, sce undernied (as her broþer told me at nite wiþ untellenly angness) to þe buwing þrake of þe forspiller; and ice learned þat þe peek ice had yetten of her wood þus most likely be þe last ice scood yet—þat þe lady, at least while lifing, wood be seen by me no more.\nFor many days following, her name was unnemmened by eþer Uscer or myself: and þroute þis time ice was bisied in earnest undernimmings to alay þe unbliþeness of my frend. We meted and read togeþer; or ice listened, as if in a dream, to þe wild faþomings of his speaking gamewood. And þus, as a nier and still nearness let me more openly into þe depþs of his goast, þe more bitterly did ice ayet þe emtiness of all fands at cirking a mind from whice darkness, as if an inborn good whiceness, yote forþ upon all þings of þe mind and of sooþ in þe alworld, in one unstopping leem of gloom.\nIce scall efer bear abute me an amind of þe many dark stunds ice þus spent alone wiþ þe master of þe Huse of Uscer. Yet ice scood truck in any fand to write a begrip of þe trew eard of þe connings, or of þe works, in whice he drew me in, or led me þe way. A giddy and hily moodsick dream þrew a swefelen sceen ofer all. His long made up deaþ songs will ring foreefer in my ears. Among oþer þings, ice hold teenfully in mind a wiss sundry miscarring and ludening of þe wild whiþ of þe last walts of Von Weber. From þe metings ofer whice his twining faþoming brooded, and whice grew, rine by rine, into unsuttelings at whice ice reesed þe more þrillingly, for þat ice reesed knowing not why;—from þese metings (lifelike as hir sites nue are before me) ice wood fand and truck to draw ute more þan a small deal whice scood lie wiþin þe span of but written words. By þe utter ofoldness, by þe nakedness of his scapings, he stopped fast and oferayed þe ken. If efer deaþling meted a begrip, þat deaþling was Roderick Uscer. For me at least—in þe umbstandness þen all abute me—þere arose ute of þe sceer þawts whice þe bedefiled man went to þrow upon his sailcloþ, a hiþe of unþolenly aye, no scadow of whice felt ice efer yet in þe faþoming of þe wisly glowing yet too fast daydreams of Fuseli.\nOne of þe dreamlike begrips of my frend, scaring not so stiffly of þe sowl of þawt, may be scadowed forþ, alþow unmitily, in words. A small meting scowed þe inside of an ettiniscely long and foredged wholf or undergang, wiþ neþer walls, smooþ, white, and wiþute break or fratow. Sundry small ords of þe scape told well of þe begrip þat þis digging lay at a full great depþ beneaþ þe mold. No utegang was seen in any deal of its great lengþ, and no torce, or oþer manmade spring of lite was toknowenly; yet a flood of full brite beams ran þroute, and baþed þe hole in a gastly and unfitting wolder.\nIce hafe nue but spoken of þat ayful derf of þe ludeþew whice made all soon unþolenly to þe þroer, but only for sundry ludes of stringed tools. It was, mayhaps, þe narrow bunds to whice he þus held himself upon þe gamewood, whice yafe bird, in great deal, to þe wundersum eard of his playings. But þe wood eaþ of his makings up cood not be so beclept. Hie must hafe been, and were, in þe pices, as well as in þe words of his wild dreams (for he not unoften lasted himself wiþ rimed spoken word), þe utecum of þat great coolness of mind and heed to whice ice hafe formerly hinted as ayettenly only in sundry britoms of þe hiest selfmade giddiness. Þe words of one of þese songs ice hafe eaþ munned. Mayhaps, it wreaked greater on my mind, as he yafe it, for þat, in þe under or hidden flow of its meaning, ice þawt þat ice ayetted, and for þe first time, a full awareness on þe deal of Uscer, of þe tottering of his lifty rode upon her seld. Þe ferses, whice were named “Þe Gastly Kinhofe,” ran nearly, if not fully on þe mark, þus:\nIn þe greenest of ure deens\nBy good andgels inearded\nOnse fair and liteful kinhofe—\nScining kinhofe—reared its head.\nIn þe hie king Þawts weeld þiþer—\nIt stood þere!\nNefer siekin spread a fiþer\nOfer cloþ as half as fair.\nFanes brite yellow, þromfast, golden,\n(Þis—all þis—was in þe olden\nAnd efery friþful whiþ þat tarried\nIn þat sweet day,\nAlong þe breastwork wan and harried\nA fledged stence did fly away.\nWanderers in þat winsum deen\nÞro two brite scining windows saw\nGoasts tumbing blissum in between\nTo a gamewoods piced draw,\nUmb abute a seld, where sitting\nIn hoad his wolder well befitting,\nÞe weelder of þe land was seen.\nAll wiþ mergroat and rubin glowing\nWas þe fair kinhofe dore,\nÞro whice came flowing, flowing, flowing\nAnd sparkeling efermore,\nA þrom of eftludes whose sweet wicken\nIn liteful stefens what is written\nÞe wit and wisdom of hir king.\nBut efel þings, in weeds of sorrow\nO’erset þe weelders eþel hie;\n(La, let us morn, for nefer morrow\nScall dawn upon him, lorn from wie!)\nAnd, umb abute his home, þe tire\nÞat blossomed wide and blusced\nIs but a dimly mimmered tale\nOf olden time beried and husced.\nAnd wayfarers nue in þat deen,\nÞro þe redlitten windows, see\nSum widegale scapes þat scriþe unseen\nTo an unþwear ayful swin indeed;\nWhile, like a swift and gastly stream,\nÞro þe ascen dore,\nAn atel þrong rusce ute and teem\nAnd laff—but smirk no more.\nIce mun well þat begrips arising from þis swin led us into a þawtline wherein þere became suttel a ween of Uscers whice ice bring up not so muce for its newness (for oþer men hafe þawt þus,) but for þe doggedness wiþ whice he kept it. Þis ween, in its mean scape, was þat of þe awareness of all wortly þings. But, in his fefered faþoming, þe begrip had nimmen a more daring eard, and oferstept, under sundry hoads, upon þe kingdom of welter. Ice hafe not þe words to tell þe full lengþ, or þe earnest wildness of his flite. Þe beleef, huefer, was lenced (as ice hafe formerly hinted) wiþ þe gray stones of þe home of his forefaþers. Þe umbstandness of þe awareness had been here, he faþomed, fulfilled in þe way of meeting of þese stones—in þe endbird hie were in, as well as in þat of þe many swambs whice oferspread hem, and of þe rotten trees whice stood abute—abufe all, in þe long unscaken abidingness of þis endbird, and in its glass in þe still waters of þe pool. Its seeþing—þe seeþing of awareness—was to be seen, he said, (and ice here started as he spoke,) in þe stepwise yet wiss dewing of a whiþ of hir own abute þe waters and þe walls. Þe utecum was onfindenly, he eked, in þat still, yet birning and ayful sway whice for yearhundreds had meted þe wirds of his maiþ, and whice made him what ice nue saw him—what he was. Suce weens need no cweaþ, and ice will make none.\nUre books—þe books whice for years, had made up no small deal of þe mindly being of þe þroer—were, as mite be reasowed, in strece keeping wiþ þis goastly eard. We pored togeþer ofer suce works as þe Ververt et Chartreuse of Gresset; þe Belfegor of Machiavelli, þe Heafen and Hell of Swedenborg; þe Undergrund Lode of Nickolas Klimm by Holberg; þe Folm Reading of Robert Flud, of Jean D’Indagine, and of De la Chambre; þe Fare into þe Hewn Farl of Tieck; and þe Borow of þe Sun of Campanella. One darling work was a small eatþwise draft of þe Directorium Inquisitorum by þe Dominicker Eymeric de Gironne; and þere were deals in Pomponius Mela, abute þe old Affer Woodwoses and Goatmen, ofer whice Uscer wood sit dreaming for stunds. His main win, huefer, was fund in þe conning of a trewly seld and ferly book in forþwise Gottisce—þe handbook of a foryetten circe—þe Vigilae Moruorum Secundum Chorum Ecclesiae Maguntinae.\nIce cood not help þinking of þe wild won of þis work, and of its likely rine upon þe sick man, when, one efening, hafing kenned me scortly þat þe lady Madeline was no more, he cwidded his ettel of akeeping her lice for a fortnite, (forn to its endly beryel,) in one of þe many wholfs wiþin þe main walls of þe bilding. Þe worldly grund, huefer, yeafen for þis sundry won, was one whice ice did not feel free to kneat. Þe broþer had been led to his will (so he told me) by recking of þe selcooþ kind of þe illness of þe dead, of sundry nosy and keen frains on þe deal of her leeces, and of þe farlen and bare kind of þe beryelgrund of þe maiþ. Ice will not wiþsake þat when ice cied to mind þe winster ansen of þe leed whom ice met upon þe stairwell, on þe day of my lending at þe huse, ice had no wisce to wiþset what ice saw as at best but a harmless, and by no means an unkindly, forewit.\nAt þe behest of Uscer, ice myself helped him in þe plot for þe tidely beryel. Þe body hafing been inþrued, we two alone bore it to its rest. Þe wholf in whice we put it (and whice had been so long unopened þat ure torces, half smoþered in its swere lift, yafe us littel bire for spirring) was small, damp, and fully wiþute means of infare for lite; lying, at great depþ, strate beneaþ þat deal of þe bilding in whice was mine own sleeping rooms. It had been brooked, seemingly, in farlen times of leandom, for þe worst ettels of a dimhuse, and, in later days, as a stead of stow for gundust, or sum oþer hily birnenly anwork, as a deal of its flore, and þe hole inside of a long infare þro whice we reaced it, were carefully sceaþed wiþ copper. Þe dore, of hulking iron, had been, also, warded alike. Its great wait brawt forþ a selcooþly scarp grinding lude, as it scroþe upon its hindges.\nHafing stowed ure mornful birden upon stocks wiþin þis room of brow, we halfway drew aside þe yet unnailed lid of þe þrue, and looked upon þe anlet of þe heem. A striking alikeness between þe broþer and þe sister nue first held my heed; and Uscer, halsing, mayhaps, my þawts, mumbeled ute sum few words from whice ice learned þat þe dead and himself had been twins, and þat scared feelings of a hardly anyetful kind had always been between hem. Ure eyes, huefer, rested not long upon þe dead—for we cood not behold her unayed. Þe illness whice had þus felled þe lady in þe ripeness of yewþ, had left, as is oftseen in all illnesses of a strecely stiffening eard, þe hux of a slite blusce upon þe bosom and þe anlet, and þat tweefully tarrying smirk upon þe lip whice is so ayful in deaþ. We put back and nailed dune þe lid, and, hafing fastened þe dore of iron, made ure way, wiþ toll, into þe hardly less gloomy rooms of þe upper deal of þe huse.\nAnd nue, sum days of bitter gnorn hafing ran on, an ayettenly wend came ofer þe costs of þe angness of my frend. His eferyday wons were forlet or foryetten. He roamed from room to room wiþ hurried, unefen, and drifting step. Þe wanness of his ansen had nimmen, if mitely, a gastlier hew—but þe briteness of his eye had utterly gone ute. Þe onse seldom huskiness of his stefen was heard no more; and a scaking cwifer, as if of great fear, often marked his speece. Þere were times, indeed, when ice þawt his unstoppingly anged mind was working wiþ sum heafy rune, to make known whice he fawt for þe needed dute. At times, ayen, ice was wont to lay all to þe untellenly unsuttelings of madness, for ice beheld him staring upon emtiness for long stunds, in a mood of þe deepest heed, as if listening to sum faþomed lude. It was no wunder þat his illness breed—þat it smitted me. Ice felt creeping upon me, by slow yet wiss steps, þe wild sways of his own faþomed yet ayful offgalþs.\nIt was, mainly, upon sweþering to bed late in þe nite of þe sefenþ or eatþ day after þe setting of þe lady Madeline wiþin þe dimhuse, þat ice fred þe full mite of suce feelings. Sleep came not near my streen—while þe stunds waned and waned away. Ice fanded to reasow off þe angness whice had weeld ofer me. Ice fanded to beleefe þat muce, if not all of what ice felt, was from þe bewildering sway of þe gloomy idisce of þe room—of þe dark and þreadbare hangings, whice, tintrayed into scriþing by þe breaþ of a rising storm, swayed fitfully to and fro upon þe walls, and rusteled uneaþ abute þe agraiþings of þe bed. But my work were bleadless. An uncwellenly cwifer slowly oferwon my frame; and, at lengþ, þere sat upon my heart itself a scuck of utterly grundless angness. Scaking þis off wiþ a heafe and a fite, ice uplifted myself upon þe bolsters, and, peering earnestly wiþin þe newel darkness of þe room, harkened—ice know not why, but þat an inborn goast scied me—to sundry neþer and unsuttel ludes whice came, þro þe lulls in þe storm, at long betwixtfacks, ice knew not whense. Oferþrown by a deep feeling of brow, untellenly yet unþolenly, ice þrew on my cloþes wiþ great speed (for ice felt þat ice scood sleep no more in þe nite), and fanded to bestir myself from þe sorry hoad into whice ice had fallen, by stepping swiftly to and fro þro þe room.\nIce had nimmen but a few wends in þis way, when a lite step on þe lenced stairwell num my heed. Ice nue acknowed it as þat of Uscer. In a britom afterward he knocked, wiþ a lite rine, at my dore, and infared, bearing a litefat. His blee was, as was wont, a licelike wan—but, moreofer, þere was a breed of mad laffter in his eyes—a suttely held back madness in his whole ansen. His whiþ afeared me—but anyþing was better þan þe aloneness whice ice had þoled so long, and ice efen welcummed his naywist as a liss.\n“And yew hafe not seen it?” he said scortly, after hafing stared abute him for sum britoms in roo—”yew hafe not þen seen it?—but, bide! yew scall.” þus speaking, and hafing carefully scaded his litefat, he hurried to one of þe windows, and þrew it freely open to þe storm.\nÞe reeþ wraþ of þe infaring blast nearly lifted us from ure feet. It was, indeed, a stormy yet sternly liteful nite, and one wildly sundry in its brow and its lite. A whirlwind had seemingly gaþered its mite in ure naywist; for þere were often and heast wends in þe way of þe wind; and þe oferstying þickness of þe cludes (whice hung so neþer as to þruce upon þe tors of þe huse) did not keep us from ayetting þis—yet we had no bit of þe moon or stars—nor was þere any blasing forþ of litening. But þe underside of þe hulking rack of cirning clude, as well as all þings on land in ure naywist, were glowing in þe unkindly lite of a slitely glowing and suttely seenly utebreaþ whice hung abute and inscruded þe huse.\n“Yew must not—yew scall not behold þis!” said ice, cwaferingly, to Uscer, as ice led him, wiþ a friþful heast, from þe window to a seat. “Þese ansens, whice bewilder yew, are only but lefiny wunders not seldseen—or it may be þat hie hafe hir gastly spring in þe rank fuleness of þe pool. Let us cluse þis window;—þe lift is cilling and pleely to yewer frame. Here is one of yewer darling Roomanisce books. Ice will read, and yew scall listen;—and so we will spend þis ayful nite togeþer.”\nÞe old writ whice ice had nimmen up was þe “Mad Stefen” of Her Lambert Canning; but ice had cied it a darling of Uscers more in sad rib þan in earnest; for, in trewþ, þere is littel in its uncooþ and mean longwindedness whice cood hafe had grip for þe hie and mindful site of my frend. It was, huefer, þe only book rite at hand; and ice atiþed a mirky hope þat þe giddiness whice nue anged þe man, mite find liss (for þe stear of mindsickness is full of alike ferlies) efen in þe bund of þe mindlessness whice ice scood read. Cood ice hafe deemed, indeed, by þe wild oferstreced whiþ of life wiþ whice he harkened, or seemingly harkened, to þe words of þe tale, ice mite well hafe harried myself upon þe speed of my plot.\nIce had lended at þat wellknown deal of þe tale were Eþelred, þe heleþ of þe Stefen, hafing sawt bleadlessly for friþful infare into þe dwelling of þe loner, cooses to make good an infare wiþ heast. Here, it will be munned, þe words of þe rake run þus:\n“And Eþelred, who was by kind of a duty heart, and who was nue mity wiþal, for þat great mite of þe wine whice he had drunken, bided no longer to hold meeting wiþ þe loner, who, in sooþ, was of a þwire and hateful kind, but, feeling þe rain upon his scolders, and fearing þe rising of þe storm, uplifted his bat uterite, and, wiþ blows, made cwickly room in þe beams of þe door for his glofed hand; and nue pulling þere—wiþ strengþ, he so broke, and ripped, and tore all asunder, þat þe lude of þe dry and hollow-luding wood starteled and eftluded þroute þe wold.\nAt þe end of þis cwid ice started, and for a britom, stalled; for it seemed to me (alþow ice at onse cose þat my afeared faþoming had belirted me)—it seemed to me þat, from sum full farlen deal of þe huse, þere came, unsuttely, to my ears, what mite hafe been, in its fulframed alikeness of hoad, þe eftlude (but a smoþered and dull one wisly) of þe same breaking and ripping lude whice Her Lambert had so sundrily reced. It was, beyond twee, þe befalling alone whice had nimmen hold of my heed; for, amid þe ratteling of þe frames in þe windows, and þe kindly mingeled ludes of þe still waxing storm, þe lude, in itself, had noþing, wisly, whice scood hafe gripped or upset me. Ice went on reading þe tale:\n“But þe good kemp Eþelred, nue infaring wiþin þe dore, was sore wroþ and amased to ayet no token of þe hateful loner; but, in þe stead þereof, a drake of a shaly and ettinisce ansen, and of a firy tung, whice sat as ward before a kinhofe of gold, wiþ a flore of silfer; and upon þe wall þere hung a sceeld of scining brass wiþ þis cwid ingrafed—\nWho infareþ herein, a oferwinner haþ been;\nWho slayeþ þe drake, þe sceeld he scall win.\nAnd Eþelred uplifted his club, and struck upon þe head of þe drake, whice fell before him, and yafe up his baneful breaþ, wiþ a scree so ayful and scarp, and wiþal so boring, þat Eþelred had fain to cluse his ears wiþ his hands ayenst þe dreadful lude of it, þe like whereof was nefer before heard.”\nHere ayen ice stopped all at onse, and nue wiþ a feeling of wild amase—for þere cood be no twee whatsoefer þat, in þis britom, ice did trewly hear (alþow from what heading it came ice fund it unmitely to say) a deep and seemingly farlen, but scarp, lengþy, and most ferly screeing or grinding lude—þe make itself of what my faþoming had already brawt up for þe drakes unkindly scree as reced by þe bookwrite.\nOnsat, as ice wisly was, upon þe landing of þe oþer and most seldseen befalling, by a þusand wying feelings, in whice wunder and greatest frite were hiest, ice still held enuff of my mind to forbear fritening, by any howing, þe keen angness of my fellow. Ice was by no means wiss þat he had nimmen heed of þe ludes unsetteled; alþow, sickerly, a ferly wend, had, wiþin þe last few minnits, befallen in his ansen. From a stead afore me, he had stepwise brawt umb his seat, so as to sit wiþ his anlet to þe dore of þe room; and þus ice cood but deally ayet his costs, alþow ice saw þat his lips cwifered as if he were mumbeling unhearenly. His head had dropped upon his breast—yet ice knew þat he was not asleep, from þe wide and stiff opening of þe eye as ice fanged a site of it from þe side. Þe scriþing of his body, too was wiþer þis begrip—for he rocked from side to side wiþ a slite yet unyeelding and efen sway. Hafing swiftly nimmen heed of all þis, ice picked up þe rake of Her Lambert, whice þus went on:\n“And nue, þe kemp, hafing atwinded from þe ayful wraþ of þe drake, beþinking himself of þe brasen sheeld, and of þe breaking up of þe galder whice was upon it, drew þe lice from ute of þe way before him, and strode dutily ofer þe silfer grund of þe fasten to where þe sceeld was upon þe wall; whice in sooþ tarried not for his cumming, but fell dune at his feet upon þe silfer flore, wiþ a mity great and ayful ringing lude.”\nNo sooner had þese staffays gone by my lips, þan—as if a sceeld of brass had indeed, at þe britom, fallen heafily upon a flore of silfer, became aware of a sundry, hollow, bloomlike, and scrill, yet seemingly deadened eftlude. Fully afeared, ice leapt to my feet; but þe slow rocking scriþing of Uscer was unfased. Ice rusced to þe seat in whice he sat. His eyes were bent fastened before him, and þroute his hole ansen þere rixt a stony stiffness. But, as ice put my hand upon his scolder, þere came a strong scaking ofer his hole body; a sickly smirk cwifered abute his lips; and ice saw þat he spoke in a soft, hurried, and babbeling mumbel, as if unaware of my naywist. Bending nily ofer him, ice at lengþ drank in þe atel wait of his words.\n“Not hear it?—yes, ice hear it, and hafe heard it. Long—long—long—many minnits, many stunds, many days, hafe ice heard it—yet ice dared not—oh, hafe rewþ for me, woesum wrece þat ice am!—ice dared not—ice dared not speak! We hafe put her lifing in þe grafe! Said ice not þat my anyets were scarp? Ice nue tell yew þat ice heard her first mainless scriþings in þe hollow þrue. Ice heard hem—many, many days ago—yet ice dared not—ice dared not speak! And nue—tonite—Eþelred—ha! ha!—þe breaking of þe loners dore, and þe deaþ roop of þe drake, and þe clang of þe sceeld!—say, raþer, þe rending of her þrue, and þe grinding of þe iron hindges of her cwartern, and her fites wiþin þe coppered infare of þe wholf! Oh whiþer scall ice fly! Will sce not be here anon? Is sce not hurrying to upbraid me for my hite? Hafe ice not heard her footstep on þe stair? Do ice not sced þat heafy and ayful beating of her heart? MADMAN!” here he sprang wildly to his feet, and rooped ute staffays, as if in þe swink he were yeafing up his sowl—”MADMAN! ICE TELL YEW ÞAT SCE NUE STANDS WIÞUTE ÞE DORE!”\nAs if in þe godly drife of his speece þere had been fund þe strengþ of a spell—þe great fern boards to whice þe speaker minted his finger, þrew slowly back, upon þe britom, waity and rafen cafels. It was þe work of þe ruscing wind—but þen wiþute þose dores þere DID stand þe hie and inscruded ansen of þe lady Madeline of Uscer. Þere was blood upon her white weeds, and þe seeþing of sum bitter fite upon efery deal of her wanþrifen frame. For a britom sce belifed cwifering and reeling to and fro upon þe þrescehold, þen, wiþ a soft moaning roop, fell heafily inward upon þe body of her broþer, and in her heast and nue endly deaþsussels, bore him to þe flore a lice, and a tifer to þe brows he had foreseen.\nFrom þat room, and from þat huse, ice fled agast. Þe storm was still abroad in all its wraþ as ice fund myself flying þwares þe old bridge. All at onse þere scot along þe paþ a wild lite, and ice went to see whense a gleam so selcooþ cood hafe cum; for þe great huse and its scadows were alone behind me. Þe briteness was þat of þe full, setting, and bloodred moon whice nue scone strikingly þro þat onse barely sceddenly cine of whice ice hafe before spoken as strecing from þe roof of þe bilding, in a winding way, to þe staddel. While ice stared, þis cine swiftly widened—þere came a reeþ breaþ of þe whirlwind—þe hole þoþer of þe moon burst at onse upon my site—my brain reeled as ice saw þe mity walls ruscing asunder—þere was a long wood rooping lude like þe stefen of a þusand waters—and þe deep and dank pool at my feet clused grimly and ludelessly ofer þe groats of þe “HUSE OF USCER.”\nRetrieved from "https://wiki.anglish.info/w/index.php?title=Þe_Fall_of_þe_Huse_of_Uscer&oldid=6427"\nThis page was last edited on 10 March 2022, at 03:15.


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Edniwung fram 18:44, 17 Haligmonað 2013\n79 bytes added , 7 years ago\nEdniwung fram 18:25, 17 Haligmonað 2013 (adiht)\nEdniwung fram 18:44, 17 Haligmonað 2013 (adiht) (undo)\nSēo '''Niðerlendisce sprǣc''' ([[Nīwu Englisc sprǣc|Nīwum Englisce]]: ''Dutch'', Niðerlendisce: ''Nederlands'') is [[Westgermanisc]] [[sprǣc]], þē fram [[Niðerland]]e ārās. Hēo is sēo eahta-and-fēowertigoðe mǣste gelōmlice "[[ǣrest sprǣc|ǣreste sprǣc]]", and hit hæfþ 23 millionan folces in 2007. Gelōmlice is þæt cynn Niðerlandiscre sprǣce, þe is on [[Belgice|Belgican]] gesprecen, þēo is [[Flemisc sprǣc|Flemisc]] gehāten. In Norþeastum dǣle þæs landes biþ sēo [[Niðerseaxisc sprǣc|Niðerseaxisce sprǣc]] gesprecen, Achterhoeks, Drents, Stellingwerfs, Twents and Gronings.\nOft wierþeþ hit gesægd, þæt Niðerlendisc bē Englisce and Þēodsce twēonum stendeþ, forþǣm þe hit lǣssa grammatisca anwendednessa þanne Englisc underēode, ac māra þanne Þēodsc. Eac underēode Þēodsc grēate anwendedness stefnhlyda þe nāhwæðer ge Englisc ge Niðerlendisc ne hæfde tōgehrinen ; þus mæh mann secgan, þæt Niðerlendisc nēara Englisc is þanne Þēodsc.\nÞā mǣstan Niðerlendiscan word cumað of þǣre [[Ealdu Germanisc sprǣc|Ealdan Germaniscan sprǣce]]. Sum cumað of [[Lǣden]]e and [[Crēacisc sprǣc|Crēacisc]]e and fēawa of [[Nīwu Englisc sprǣc|Nīwum Englisce]] and [[Frencisc sprǣc|Frencisce]]. Þæt word ''schip'' cymð of seolfre orsprunge swā [[Englisc sprǣc|Englisc]] ''scip''.\nFram "https://ang.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syndrig:MobileDiff/175561" begeten


Romulus Augustulus - Wikipǣdia, sēo frēo wīsdōmbōc\nRomulus Augustus ƿæs se endmesta Ƿestrēmisca Cāsere. He ƿæs ymbe þæm geare 461 geboren and his dēaþ is ungecenned ac it ƿæs æfter 476, and man secgð þe he giet alibbedede in 507 be bēc of þæm geare.) Romulus ƿæs cildcyning, abanned Cāsere þæs ƿestdǣl þæs Rōmāniscan Rīce æfter his fæder Orestes adrāf Iulius Nepos Cāsere of Italie in 475. Romules cynedōm begann on 31 October 475 and endode æfter ānum ƿintre on 4 Haligmōnaþ 476 þan Ēadƿacer hine oferƿearp. Stǣrƿritas secgaþ þe Romules dǣd þe he gesealde him in hande betæcneþ se ende þæs ƿestrīce, Ealdes Rōmes feall and þara Middelyldum angyn in Ƿesternum Europan.\n31 Ƿinterfylleþ 475 – 4 Haligmōnaþ 476\nFlauius Momyllus Romulus\nungecenned, æfter 476\nÞæs Cāseres nama ƿæs Momyllus Romulus and he ricsode be naman Romulus Augustus. Be his binaman is he betste gecnaƿen se is "'Romulus Augustulus", þærin is Augustulus 'Agustcynn' oððe Se 'Lytla Augustus'. Ealdran bēc nemnaþ hine Romulus Momyllus oððe Momyllus Augustulus, and stǣrƿriteras secgaþ þe Momyllus meaht bēon being a corruption of Romulus.\nBēc of his ielde habbaþ fēa þing ymbe Romules līfe. He ƿæs abanned cāsere be Orestes his fæder, se ƿæs ƿigenahlāford þæs Rōmānisc Here æfter he adrāf Iulius Nepos Cāsere of Eotolƿare. Romulus ƿæs geong cild and his rīce ƿæs gedƿimorlīce for he ƿæs tæcencyning for his fædres rīce. Ūtan Italie aliefedon fēa þe he ƿæs rihte cāsere ne meahten he abūgan to his ƿealde.\nTiene monaþlang ƿæs Romules cynedōm þan hine aƿearp Ēadƿacer, æfter þe Ēadƿacer hæfde sige ofer Orestes and hine ofslōg. He sendede Romulus to ƿunienne in Lucullanum þæm Byrig sēo is in Campanie and þæreft fordƿīneþ Romulus Augustulus of stǣrbōca spellum.\n↑ Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 4.36.\nFram "https://ang.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Romulus_Augustulus&oldid=192945" begeten\nLast edited on 21 Þrimilcemonað 2018, at 16:06\nMan niwanost wende þisne tramet on þære 16:06 tide þæs 21 Þrimilcemonað 2018.


Referenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by decode_block(), decode_block_progressive(), decode_dc_progressive(), ff_jpegls_decode_lse(), ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_dht(), ff_mjpeg_decode_dqt(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_init(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), mjpeg_decode_app(), mjpeg_decode_com(), mjpeg_decode_dc(), mjpeg_decode_dri(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), and mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac().\nReferenced by ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_end(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), and ff_mjpeg_decode_init().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), and ff_mjpeg_decode_init().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), mjpeg_decode_com(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), and ff_mjpeg_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by decode_block(), decode_block_progressive(), decode_block_refinement(), ff_jpegls_decode_lse(), ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_dht(), ff_mjpeg_decode_dqt(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_init(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), ls_decode_line(), mjpeg_decode_app(), mjpeg_decode_com(), mjpeg_decode_dc(), mjpeg_decode_dri(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpegb_decode_frame(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), mjpegb_decode_frame(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by decode_block(), decode_dc_progressive(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), and ff_mjpeg_decode_sos().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_end(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ljpeg_decode_rgb_scan(), ljpeg_decode_yuv_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), mjpegb_decode_frame(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_dqt(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), mjpegb_decode_frame(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_end(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), mjpegb_decode_frame(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_dqt(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), mjpeg_decode_scan_progressive_ac(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by decode_block(), decode_block_progressive(), decode_block_refinement(), ff_mjpeg_decode_dqt(), ff_mjpeg_decode_init(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), mjpeg_decode_scan(), and sp5x_decode_frame().\nReferenced by ff_jpegls_decode_picture(), ff_mjpeg_decode_frame(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sof(), ff_mjpeg_decode_sos(), mjpegb_decode_frame(), and sp5x_decode_frame().