"DWARF FEVER:" ALONG CAME A SPIDER-WIGHT

Translation

[Purpose]

Against a dwarf (dwarf-fever, fever caused by dwarf possession):

[Instructions]

Take 7 little sacramental wafers (hosts), such as one makes offertory with, and write each of these names on each wafer (host): Maximiaus, Malchus, Iohannes, Martimiaus, Dionisius, Constantinus, Serafion (names of the Seven Sleepers). Then afterwards one must sing the incantation which is related hereafter, first into the left ear of the patient, then into the right ear, then above the crown of the person’s (patient's) head; and then let a virgin go to the patient and hang it (a necklace made with the seven hosts) on their neck and let it be done so for three days; the patient will soon be better.

[Incantation] (to be sung in the patient's ears and above their head)

Here came walking in a healing spirit (or spider-wight)
He had his cover in hand, said you (the dwarf) were his steed
and he would lay his ropes on your neck. 

They began to travel out of the land.
As soon as they were out of the land, his limbs began to cool.
Then came walking in the beast’s sister.

(the sister of the dwarf, or that of the spider-wight?)

Then she interceded and swore oaths
That this might never injure the patient
Nor those who could obtain this spell
Nor those who knew how to chant this spell.

Notes:

The vanishing dwarf

Some commentators claim that we shouldn’t look for a literal dwarf here, as dweorh had simply come to mean “fever”. This is based on other remedies for fever being described as wið dweorh. But here we have a spell which operates by removing a creature which is possessing the patient, so clearly the concept of dwarf-possession was still operative, making these objections spurious.

Who’s afraid of the inspidenwiht /spider-wight (the dwarf of course)

The word inspidenwiht cannot be translated as it stands. Although early readings as inspiderwiht, with a meaning of spider-creature (spider-wight), were debunked at an early stage, the spider still can’t be ruled out.

The second n is written as a correction of a letter which must be l, h or b. Only l is phonologically likely, so inspidelwiht must be considered as an alternative reading to inspidenwiht. 

Only one word starting with inspi- is know: inspinn, spindle. We know of a synonym of inspinn, spinel, so it is possible to imagine a word *inspinel, also meaning spindle. An error leading to a change from *inspinel to inspidel is possible. A spindle-creature could certainly be a spider (spider-wight).

The context of the word may be important:

………….her com in
gangan inspidenwiht ("Along came a spider" as in the nursery rhyme) 

 It is possible that the second ‘in’ is an error under the influence of the first. It may even be a result of dittography and be simply an erroneous repetition of the first. This would have to have happened in an earlier copy, as the first ‘in’ comes at the end of the line in this copy. If this is the case, then spinelwiht, without in- but still meaning ‘spindle-creature’, i.e. spider, should also be considered. So the spider is still in contention. However there is another possible emendation.

The word anspilde means ‘salutory’. It is possible to imagine a series of errors leading from anspildewiht to inspidelwiht then to the MS form inspidenwiht.

anspilde -> anspidle -> anspidel -> inspidel

The word could have become incomprehensible at stage 2 or 3, making emendation from anspidel to inspiden easier, under the influence of the series (com) in (gang)an an(spilde), which could have led to scribal error. The line-break between com in and gangan could have led to an interim error of com in/ gang in anspilde, corrected to com ingangan inspilde or something of the sort.

Alternatively, the error could have occurred not via written transmission but during oral transmission with the word anspildewiht becoming garbled and incomprehensible when passed orally from healer to healer before being written down.

The emendation to anspildewiht has the advantage of fitting with the role of inspidenwiht as a benevolent curative figure which provides the best reading of the rest of the spell. The correct combination of the adjective anspilde with wiht depends on whether wiht is feminine or neuter (it can be both). If neuter, the combination would be anspilde wiht, if feminine anspildu wiht. I choose the former as it is closer to the manuscript.

Some emendation is required, as the manuscript reading is clearly corrupt. Both “spindle-creature” and “salutory-creature” are equally possible in terms of the number of steps required for emendation. 

Coat and tie

Another difficulty is the meaning of the words hama and teage, which the wiht is carrying.

Similar to hama is M.E. hame, the collar of a draught-horse, a horse-collar. The O.E.D. says this is not known before 13th C and is distinct from hame = covering. I wonder if this word might not rather be some kind of development of ‘hem’ (as in ‘hem in’), which does not go back to hama. The meaning horse-collar is of course very suggestive, given that the spider-wight is riding the dwarf, but it is an objection that a horse-collar is used for plowing, not riding. The attested meaning in O.E. of hama is ‘covering’, which could also mean a cloak or a blanket. If this is the meaning then the wiht is throwing his cloak over the dweorh as a saddle before attaching the bridle (teage = ties). It may also be significant that the phrase is his haman and the bridle is also referred to as his teage. This indicates he is holding his own cloak/blanket, but what his own ties would be I am not sure. Note there is a word sweorclaþ, (‘neck-cloth’) found in a gloss c. 1000 which is synonymous with teah, sal (rope) glossing latin collarium (collar, horse-collar) (viz. O.E.D. sub tie). So the hama and the teage may be more closely related than we thought.

In any case, we can envision the wiht as a creature with hands (and probably legs, as he can ride), who goes around with a cloak or blanket and carrying a rope. He throws his cloak/blanket over the dwarf, ties the rope around its neck and rides it off into the distance. Presumably the cloak/blanket has some magic power which controls whatever it is thrown over.

The dwarf has a sister, who swears an oath that she will protect the patient and the spellcaster from her brother, in case of more cases of dwarf-fever.

SPIRITUAL POSSESSION IN OVID'S METAMORPHOSES

The principal translation we will use for Ovid's Metamorphoses is that of A. D. Melville in the 1986 Oxford World's Classics edition – use of the text without a translator credit can be assumed to be this version.

Personified Abstractions

One way to approach themes in the Metamorphoses is to identify the four personified abstractions we encounter, because one of them appears in the Erysichthon story. The abstractions have their own four set-pieces where they briefly become characters, which is a technique inspired by the personification of Rumour in Virgils Aeneid - Ovid even makes Rumour his own final personified abstraction (Met. 12.43). The first, that of Envy (Invidia) (Met. 2.760) appears in the second book.
Envy, “Her cheeks are sallow, her whole body shrunk” (Met. 2.775) does Minerva's bidding physically, by entering the sleeping girl's room, where on her breast she “laid her withering hand and filled her heart/ With thorny briars and breathed a baleful blight/ Deep down into her bones and spread a stream/ Of poison, black as pitch, inside her lungs” (Met. 2.798-801) and places images of Herse, happily married to Mercury, in her head to incite wild jealousy (Met. 2.803-805).
In regard to the final demise of Aglauros, “distraught/ All night, all day, in utter misery,/ Wasting away in slow decline, like ice/ Marred by a fitful sun” (Met. 2.807-808), guarding her sister's door out of burning envy instead of the first-desired private enterprise, one wonders whether she would have been feeling a third motivating emotion – that of sisterly protection from this keen son of Jupiter, this personal Courier to the Underworld, known amongst other things for his swift thievery – had she not been wasting away with Envy inside. Perhaps her intentions would have become good ones: to make sure one of her own blood did not feel pressured to marry an eager immortal with wings on his ankles in a hurry, even if he were an exalted god who had spied her as he flew through the Athenian sky. Alas, the gods do not always allow mortals to put into practice the lessons they teach through their punishments. One cannot help but feel sorrow and terror for her (and wonder what her beautiful sister thought when she encountered the dark new statue in the house) when she tries to block the path of Mercury but feels “a numbing weight” which “Stiffened her muscles; as she strained to stand/ Upright her knees were stuck; an icy chill/ Seeped through her limbs, the blood paled in her veins” (Met. 2.821-824). Ovid‟s description of being turned to stone slowly enough for these horrifying details to be perceived individually is as disturbing as any science-fiction or fantasy horror film scene of imposed transformation on a living, feeling being. Mercury has done this to her now merely because she was blocking his path, in her own home.

Ovid gives a similar description to the Hunger (Fames) that enters Erysichthon, in the second of the set-pieces: “her face sallow, her eyes/ Sunken” and “beneath her hollow loins/ Jutted her withered hips” (Met. 8.801-804). On reaching the sleeping Erysichthon, she performs the same sort of body-filling action that is usually figurative, but with these personifications of Ovid, becomes literal: Hunger “wrapped him in her arms/ And breathed upon him, filling with herself/ His mouth and throat and lungs, and channelled through/ His hollow veins her craving emptiness” (Met. 8.818-820).

Ovid's personified abstractions do not always follow ancient ideas of active and passive gender roles in the most obvious ways. Besides, the set-pieces for Envy, Hunger and Rumour all employ appropriate evil-female characteristics (those of wasting away, the opposite of life-giving, an important female role). These suggest witches of later times and cultures, such as Baba Yaga of Russia, witches in Grimm's fairy tales and indeed the pan-European and British Isles tradition, and the Wicked Witches of the Wizard of Oz in popular culture.

It is night time, and Erisychthon, who has not yet shown in this section, is now sleeping and vulnerable, snoring in his bed: he does not hear the creak of his door as Hunger enters (3.63-65). Sitting on him, a little like a succubus, she maneuvers her long spoon once into his open mouth and has “Emptied him out” (3.66-70). Then, mouth-to-mouth (3.70), she completes the physical transaction by breathing herself “into his blood/ Till famine blazed there” (3.71-72), similarly to the way Ovid's Hunger physically fills Erysichthon with her breath upon his body (Met. 8.819- 820). In addition, although Lasdun's Hunger is hardly explicitly seeking to return to the womb whence she came, she is a “neglected” (3.48) child, lacking maternal shelter, and she has a directable drive to become part of another body (whilst magically not losing any of herself).

Next, Fames insinuates herself into Erysichthon via the breath (inspirat, 819), just as Cupid at Venus' command breathes his occultum ignem into Dido unawares. The echo of Virgil is especially apt. In both cases an otherwise necessary and natural desire (for food or love) is given to a victim and acts as a terrible poison. In both cases the 'infection' is transferred via the breath to an unaware victim. Each victim is embraced as this happens, each scene happens at night, and each time the transfer of desire is completed by a lesser deity (Fames or Cupid) by order of a greater deity. Finally, Fames places the hunger into his veins (peragit, 820) The verb is used, in the same metrical position, at 815. This repetition, far from calling for a replacement (such as spargit) is typical of the narrative. Ovid also adds to the dramatic, action-packed feeling by making the final lines of this section (814 - 822) one long sentence, with polysyndeton.