It is one of the merits of Bugge's view--one of the proofs of its general
soundness--that it admits of successive improvements at the hands of
succeeding commentators. No one has done more in this way than has Prof.
Ayres to clear up the story, particularly the latter part of the _Episode_.
Ayres evolves unity out of what had been before "a rapid-fire of events
that hit all around a central tragic situation and do not once touch it."
Hengest does not, Ayres thinks, enter the service of Finn with any such
well-formed plan of revenge as Bugge had attributed to him. Hengest was in
a difficult situation. It is his mental conflict, "torn between his oath to
Finn and his duty to the dead Hnaef," which gives unity to all that
follows. It is a tragedy of Hengest, hesitating, like Shakespeare's Hamlet,
over the duty of revenge. Prof. Ayres' statement here is too good to
summarize; it must be quoted at length:
"How did he feel during that long, blood-stained winter? He naturally
thought about home (_eard gemunde_, 1129), but there was no question of
sailing then, no need yet of decision while the storm roared outside.
By and by spring came round, as it has a way of doing. How did he feel
then? Then, like any other Northerner, he wanted to put to sea:
fundode wrecca,
gist of geardum.
That is what he would naturally do. He would speak to Finn and be off;
in the spring his business was on the sea. That is all right as to
Finn, but as to the dead Hnaef it is very like running away; it is
postponing vengeance sadly. Will he prove so unpregnant of his cause as
that? No; though he would like to go to sea, he thought _rather_ of
vengeance, and staid in the hope of managing a successful surprise
against Finn and his people:
h[=e] t[=o] gyrn-wraece
sw[=i]dhor th[=o]hte thonne t[=o] s[=ae]-l[=a]de,
gif h[=e] torn-gem[=o]t thurht[=e]on mihte,
thaet h[=e] Eotena b[=e]arn inne gemunde.
All this says clearly that Hengest was thinking things over, whether he
should or should not take vengeance upon Finn; it tells us also very
clearly, with characteristic anticipation of the outcome of the story,
that in the end desire for vengeance carried the day:
Sw[=a] h[=e] ne-forwyrnde worold-r[=ae]denne,
he did not _thus_ prove recreant to his duty. But we have not been told
the steps by which Hengest arrived at his decision. That seems {267} to
be what we should naturally want to know at this point, and that is
precisely what we are about to be told. Occasions gross as earth
informed against him[475]."
Then Ayres goes on to explain the "egging," through the presentation of a
sword by Hunlafing. This feature of the story is now pretty generally so
understood; but Ayres has an interpretation of the part played by Guthlaf
and Oslaf, which is new and enlightening.
"Hengest's almost blunted purpose was not whetted by Hunlafing alone.
The latter's uncles, Gudhlaf and Oslaf [Ordlaf] took occasion to
mention to Hengest the fierce attack (the one, presumably, in which
Hnaef had fallen); cast up to him all the troubles that had befallen
them ever since their disastrous sea-journey to Finnsburg; they had
plenty of woes to twit him with:
sidhdhan grimne gripe G[=u]dhl[=a]f and [=O]sl[=a]f
aefter s[=ae]-s[=i]dhe sorge m[=ae]ndon,
aetwiton w[=e]ana d[=ae]l.
The effect of all this on Hengest is cumulative. Where he was before in
perfect balance, he is now wrought to action by the words of his
followers; he can control himself no longer; the balance is destroyed.
The restless spirit (Hengest's in the first instance, but it may be
thought of as referring to the entire attacking party, now of one mind)
could no longer restrain itself within the breast:
ne meahte w[=ae]fre m[=o]d
forhabban in hredhre.
Vengeance wins the day[476]."
By this interpretation Ayres has, as he claims, "sharpened some of the
features" of the current interpretation of the Finn story. For, as he says,
"in some respects the current version was very unsatisfactory; there seemed
to be little relation between the presentation of the sword to Hengest and
the spectacle of Gudhlaf and Oslaf howling their complaints in the face of
Finn."
That Ayres' interpretation enhances the coherency of the story is beyond
dispute: that it does so at the cost of putting some strain upon the text
in one or two places may perhaps be urged[477]. But that in its main lines
it is correct seems to me certain: the story of Finnsburg is the tragedy of
Hengest--his hesitation and his revenge. Keeping this well in view, many of
the difficulties disappear.
* * * * *
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