Solomon and Saturnus

Solomon and Saturnus is the generic name given to four Old English works, which present a dialogue of
riddles between Solomon, the king of Israel, and Saturnus, identified in two of the poems as a prince of
the Chaldeans. On account of earlier editorial tendencies, the two poetical works, Solomon and Saturnus
I and Solomon and Saturnus II, have often been read as a single, continuous poem. They are considered
some of the most enigmatic and difficult poems of the Old English corpus. As with most Old English
poetry, the Solomon and Saturnus poems have proven notoriously difficult to date. Patrick O'Neill has
argued for a connection to the court of King Alfred in the ninth century, whereas Daniel Anlezark sees
the poem as fitting into the early tenth-century cultural milieu of Dunstan's Glastonbury. The Solomon
and Saturnus texts are often considered the earliest forms of a wider European literary tradition that
comprises similar works such as the dialogue between Solomon and Marcolf.

[Taken from the A text, the first 29 lines appear only in B, but B ends at line 94]

Dialogue I

Saturnus:

Listen! I have tasted of all the books from every land

across the sea by means of their knotted letters

and the learned arts; have unlocked Libya and Greece,

likewise the libri historiae of the Indian realm.

These expounders of tales have guided me

into that great many of books [. . .] (B.1-6a)

Thus I never could discover it in all those olden writings

gathered up truly. Nevertheless I sought

which of the mindful and the majestic,

of the courageous or the wealthy or the manly

might be that Pater Noster palm-bedecked. (B.7b-12)

I will give you it all, son of David,

prince of Israel—thirty pounds

of pure gold as well as my sons twelve--

if you would bring me what I have been incited to seek

by these canticles’ quotation, Christ’s cable--

soothe me with the sooth, and I shall

fare forwards unharmed, turn myself

at will upon the water’s back,

over the River Chebar to seek the Chaldeans. (B.13-20)

Solomon:

He shall be wretched on earth, unavailing of life

wasted of wisdom, wandering as a beast

a field-travelling cow deprived of wit,

who does not knows how to praise Christ

by way of the canticles, wandering full of wind--

the devil strikes him with iron shot,

on Doomsday, the dragon, terrifyingly,

shamefully, from an ebon sling--

they all are grown from the heads

of the scornful waves. (B.21-29)

Then it would be more pleasing to him

when all this bright creation

is forged from the ground, of gold and silver,

in the four corners of the Earth, filled with costly treasures,

if he ever could know aught of this blessed song.

Then he will be abominable and estranged from the Lord Almighty,

much unlike to the angels, turning away alone. (A.30-35)

Saturnus:

Yet who can most easily in the count

of all creation brightly open up

that holy portal into heaven’s realm? (ll. 36-38)

Solomon:

That palm-bedecked Pater Noster will open up

the heavens, and give bliss to the holy,

make the Measurer merciful, strike down murder,

extinguish the devil’s flames, yet kindle the Lord’s. (ll. 39-42)

Likewise you could, with that bright prayer,

warm up the blood, the devil’s dreary gore,

that ascends from him in drops,

strengthened in blood-sweat, in seven causes,

terrifying, then its brazen grasp,

over the grip of gledes, surges most greedily,

on behalf of twelve generations of mankind. (ll. 43-48)

Therefore the canticle has, above all Christ’s books,

the most widely-renowned words — he teaches the scriptures,

steering the tribes and holding their place,

of the realm of heaven, carrying their battle-tackle. (ll. 49-52)

Saturnus:

Yet of what sort is that song in the memories

in order to cultivate for those who wish

to smelt their spirits against felonies,

purify them from sorrows,

separate them from the criminals? (ll. 53-56a)

Indeed the Shaper gave them a glorious form.

Very often in the world my curiosity asks me about this,

eager to proceed, confusing my mind. (ll. 56b-59a)

No man knows, no hero under heaven,

how my heart has sunk, busy after its books.

Sometimes a burning mounts in me,

my mind seething anxiously near my heart. (ll. 59b-62)

Solomon:

Golden is that pronouncement of God, adorned with gemstones,

and it has silver leaves. As one anyone can,

through the grace of the spirit, speak the good news.

It shall be wisdom of understanding, and honey of the soul,

and milk of the mind, most blessed of glory-deeds. (ll. 63-67)

It can rescue those souls from perpetual dark

beneath the earth, and never shall the fiend attach

them with fetters into those nether regions--

and though he should bind them with fifty chains,

it will shatter that skill and sunder all those cunning ideas. (ll. 68-72)

It shall destroy hunger and plunder hell,

scatter the welling flame and timber up glory.

It is the more mindful in middle-earth,

stronger in its foundation than the grip of any stone. (ll. 73-76)

It is leech to the lame, a light to the blind,

also it is the door to the deaf, the tongue of the speechless,

shield of the sinning, the stronghold of the Shaper,

bearer across the waves, savior of the people,

guardian of the tides, of the miserable fishes,

wellspring of wyrms, wood to wild beasts,

and warden of the wasteland, and courtyard to the worthy. (ll. 77-83)

And he who wishes to sing eagerly and truly

that pronouncement of God and who wishes

to love him always without blemish,

he can put that hateful ghast to flight,

the fighting fiend, if first you bring from above

the fearsome prologa prima, peorth (P) by name:

that warrior holds a long staff, a golden goad,

and eternally the strong-minded scourges

that gruesome enemy—and pursuing him

along his tracks, ac (A) of overweening might,

also striking him down. Tir (T) injures him

stabbing him in the tongue, twisting his throat,

shattering his jaws. Eoh (E) harms him,

as he always wants to stand fixed upon

every one of his enemies. Then rad (R) angrily

attacks him in his displeasure, prince of all book-staves,

shaking at once the fiend by his locks,

causing flint to burst the shanks of spirits--

he never considers the joint of their limbs--

he will not be a good leech to them. (ll. 84-102)

Then the devil travels under the skies, seeking a battlement,

helmeted in shadow — indeed woe shall come to him

in his heart, when hanging he wishes for hell,

for that most constricted of homesteads. (ll. 103-6)

At that point, the twins of the church shall destroy him,

nyd (N) and os (O) together. Either one brings a whip

from their way. They shall afflict for a space of time

the estranged flesh-home, mourning not for the soul. (ll. 107-10)

Then sigel (S) comes, counselor to angels,

staff of glory, snatching the wrathful fiend

by the feet, making the cheek fall forward

onto the strong stone, scattering his teeth

throughout the throng of hell.

Each one hides himself through the gloom

of shadows—the scather shall be overcome,

Satan’s thane cut silent completely. (ll. 111-17)

Likewise cweorth (Q) and ur (U) shall humble

death itself, fearsome generals faring forwards

against him—they have spears of light,

long shafts, stout-hearted scourges.

They do not withhold their blows,

their grievous dints. The devil is hateful to them. (ll. 118-22)

Then is (I) and lagu (L) and the angry cen (C)

shall begird the devil with war, those crooked staves

bearing a bitter terror. They shall subdue at once

the captive of hell who goes backwards. (ll. 123-26)

Then feoh (F) and mon (M) shall press about him

from without, the criminal enemy. They have sharp spears,

a terrible hail of arrows, they kindle flames

in the fiend’s hair and strew a bitter terror

with deadly shafts. Grimly and severely

the slayers shall atone for the fact

that they often broke into boasting. (ll. 127-32)

Then next the vaulted gar (G) quiets him

forcibly, who God sends to his friends

as a comfort. Dæg (D) comes forth afterwards

filled with fivefold power, the third shall be fire,

the staff near the street, waiting motionless.

Hægl (H) hastens, an angel clothes him,

Christ’s champion, in living garments,

requesting God’s new clothing. (ll. 133-40)

Then the twins shall scourge them severely

upon the breeze, under the horde of stars,

with the points of twigs, with silver switches,

until their bones gleam, their veins go bleeding--

they shall pour out spear-rage upon the gluttonous devil. (ll. 141-45)

The statement of God can always put to flight

the fiends, one and all, the throng of the sinful

for the sake of every human, through the mouth of mankind,

and can torment swart demons—although they shall never

change their forms so wondrously, assuming plumage

across their bone-coffers. Sometimes they grasp sailors.

Sometimes they carry forth in the bodies of serpents,

strong and sharp-toothed, stinging animals

ambling in the field, carrying off cattle.

Sometimes the devil fells a horse in the water,

chopping him down with his horns,

until the blood of its heart tumbles to the earth,

a foaming flooding bath.

Sometimes he manacles an ill-fated man,

weighing down his hands--

then he must struggle for his life

in a war against a host of the hateful. (ll. 146-60)

The devil inscribes upon his weapon

a horde of deadly runes, baleful book-staves,

ensorceling his sword, his glorious blade.

Therefore let no man draw forth the weapon’s edge

too often, without due regard, although its form

pleases him well—yet he must always sing,

when he should sweep out his sword,

“Pater Noster” and pray for that palm-tree

with bliss, so that he may give them both

his soul and hands, when his foe steps forth. (ll. 161-69)

Dialogue II

What I have learned through disputation in days gone by,

mind-perceiving men, counselors of middle-earth

working about their wisdom. They do worse who deceive

or who contend with the truth. Solomon was more renowned,

though Saturnus, that bold chieftain, kept the key

to certain books, the lock of learning. (ll. 170-75a)

He wandered through every land: the Indian Ocean,

the East-Cosseans, the realms of Persia and Palestine,

the citadel of Nineveh, the Northern Parthians,

the treasure-halls of the Medes, the yard of Marcolf,

the realm of Saul, as he lay to the south

about Gilboa, and about Geador to the north,

the hall of the Philistines, the fortress of the Greeks,

the forest of Egypt, the waters of Midian,

the rock of Mount Horeb, the realm of Chaldea,

the crafts of the Greeks, the kindred of Arabia,

the learning of Libya, the lands of Syria,

Bithynia, Bashan, Pamphilia, the boundaries of Porus,

Macedonia, Mesopotamia, Cappadocia, and Christ’s homeland:

Jericho, Galilee and Jerusalem [. . .]. (ll. 175b-92)

Solomon:

[. . .] or I may keep silent,

thinking about what is profitable, although

I would never speak it. I know then, if you depart

upon the Wendel-sea, across the River Chobar,

seeking your native land, that you would have boasted

that you have overcome and overmastered

the child of men. I know that the Chaldeans

were boastful at war and gold-proud,

glorious in their arrogance, where it happened

to the multitude, southward on Shinar field.

Say to me where no man could set foot in that land. (ll. 193b-202)

Saturnus:

That famous man was called the Ravening Wolf,

a sea-sailor, known to the tribal nation

of the Philistines, the friend of Nimrod.

On that field he slew five and twenty

dragons at dawn, and then he fell himself, dead. (ll. 203-07)

Therefore, no human, no man, can seek out

that space of earth, that border-land--

birds cannot fly over it, no more than the beasts of the earth. (ll. 208-10)

Thenceforth some sort of poison sprung forth

widely at first, when swarming through the breath

of venom, an entrance opened up. (ll. 211-13)

Yet his sword glitters, shining strongly,

and across the gravesites the hilt glimmers still. (ll. 214-15)

Solomon:

Foolish is he who goes upon deep water

without knowing how to swim, without a sailed ship,

without the flight of birds, nor can touch the bottom

with his feet. Indeed, he tempts

the Lord God’s might very unwisely. (ll. 216-220)

Saturnus:
But what is the speechless one, who sleeps

in a certain valley? He is vigorously clever,

and has seven tongues—and each of those tongues

bears twenty piercing points, and each those points

contains the wisdom of angels--

Whichever one who wishes to bring it up,

so that you may see the walls sparkling

of golden Jerusalem and their gleaming cross of joy,

the most truthful of signs. Say what I’m thinking about! (ll. 221-28)

Solomon:

Those books are famous! They teach abundantly

an appointed desire to those who think at all,

strengthening themselves and establishing

a steadfast thought, cheering the heart

of every man from the closing constraint of this life. (ll. 229-33)

Saturnus:

He is bold who tastes of the books’ craft,

always he will be the wiser who holds their power. (ll. 234-35)

Solomon:
They send forth victory to all of the soothfast,

the harbor of salvation, to those who love them. (ll. 236-37)

Saturnus:

A singular thing exists in this worldly realm,

about it curiosity has broken me

for fifty winters, by day and by night,

through deep destiny, a grieving spirit--

yet it shall do this, until the Eternal Lord

grants me what might satisfy a wiser man. (ll. 238-43)

Solomon:

You speak truly: I shall satisfy you right away

about that wondrous creature.

Do you wish that I should tell you? (ll. 244-45)

A singular bird sits in the middle of the Philistine

realm; a mountain lies round about it,

a broad golden wall. The Philistine wise men

keep it zealously, believing that it is nothing,

that an entire nation must snatch it away from them

with the blades of weapons. They know of this compact:

they keep it every night, by the north and the south,

in two halves, with two hundred wardens. (ll. 246-53)

This bird has four heads of the average man’s size,

and the middle of it is the size of a whale--

it has the wings of a vulture and the feet of a griffon.

It lies down, secure in its chains, louring about fiercely,

flapping its wings vigorously and its fetters ring,

screeching miserably, lamenting its misfortunes,

wallowing in its torment, dwelling joylessly,

singing out strangely—seldom ever do his limbs

lie still. Severely he longs for freedom,

seeming to him that it might be thrice thirty

thousand winters before he should hear

the din of Doomsday. No man of the kindred of earth

knows what it is within this world,

until I alone discovered it and commanded it

to be thrown into bonds across the broad waters,

so that that mindful one, the son of Melot,

first of the Philistines, ordered it bound fast,

locked up into chains against its folk-terror.

The distant dwellers, first of the Philistines,

call that bird by the name of Vasa Mortis. (ll. 254-72)

Saturnus:
Yet what is that wonder that fares throughout the world,

going forth inexorably, beating upon the bases,

rousing drops of tears, often struggling to get here?

Neither star nor stone can evade it at all,

nor the brilliant jewel, water or wild beast--

yet it proceeds in the hand of the hard and the soft,

the great and middling. Every ground-dweller,

breeze-sailor and wave-swimmer,

must go yearly to the feast, reckoned

thrice thirteen thousand times. (ll. 273-82)

Solomon:

Old age is crafty over everything earthly--

reaching widely with a ravaging captive-chain,

with spacious fetters and a lengthy rope,

overwhelming all whom she wishes to.

It destroys the tree and shatters its branches,

tumbling the standing stock from its course,

felling it to the ground, and devouring it afterwards.

It vanquishes the wolf and the wild fowl,

outlasting the stones, overcoming steel--

it bites into iron with rust, as it does us all. (ll. 283-92)

Saturnus:

But why does the snow fall, hiding the earth,

veiling the seeds of herbs, binding the blossoms.

It crushes and checks them so that they shall be

withered by the cold for a season? (ll. 293-96a)

Very often it also afflicts a multitude of beasts,

bridging over the wetness, breaking down

the gates of the city, proceeding boldly

and ravaging [. . .]. (ll. 296b-99)

[a leaf is missing]

[Solomon:]

[. . .] much greater when that cunning malice

that guides him into those hateful houses

amid that wicked army with the devil as desire. (ll. 300-302)
Saturnus:

Night is the darkest of weather--

Compulsion is the sternest of outcomes--

Sorrow is the heaviest of burdens--

Sleep is the most like death. (ll. 303-4)

Solomon:

For a short time, the leaves will be green,

when they soon grow fallow, falling to the earth,

decaying there, becoming dust.

So they collapse then, those who stay the course

of their sins for a long time, abiding in wickedness,

concealing high-treasures, holding eagerly onto

the citadel, with devils as their desire,

and only fools believe that the Glory-King,

Almighty God, will wish to heed them. (ll. 305-13)

Saturnus:

It shall be apparent at once after the wave

must flow out across all the lands,

nor will it wish to cease its course,

after the time has come for it,

so that it should heed the din of Judgment Day. (ll. 314-17)

Solomon:

Then woe shall come to these moody men,

those who here and now dwell in this loaned world

the longest in their wickedness!

Formerly your people proved that fact:

They struggled against the might of the Lord--

therefore they did not complete their work.

Yet I must not offend you, brother--

you are an angry and mighty people

of such bitter stock. Run not into their evil nature! (ll. 318-22)

Saturnus:

Say to me, Solomon King, son of David,

what are the four ropes doomed to death? (ll. 323-24)

Solomon:
“Outcomes bound to befall”:

those are the four ropes doomed to death. (ll. 325-26)

Saturnus:

Yet who will judge Lord Christ then

on Doomsday when he judges all of creation? (ll. 327-28)

Solomon:

Who dares to judge then the Lord who wrought us from dust,

the Savior from night’s wound? Yet tell me what might not be that is not? (ll. 329-30)

Saturnus:

Yet why may not the sun shine so brightly

upon all of broad creation? Why does she

overshadow the mountains and the moors

and many other waste places as well?

How did this become so? (ll. 331-34)

Solomon:

Yet why were all earth-dwellers not divided

into like peoples? Some have too little greed for good.

God sets it as rest for the fortunate by their merits. (ll. 335-38)

Saturnus:

Yet why are weeping and laughter set together

as companions? Very often those desirous of honor

destroy their own happiness. How does that happen? (ll. 339-41)

Solomon:

He shall be miserable and wretched who always

wishes to be mournful in anxiety--

He shall be most vile to God. (ll. 342-43)

Saturnus:

Why are we all not allowed to go forwards

with courage into God’s kingdom? (ll. 344-45)

Solomon:

The grip of flame and the chill of frost

can not dwell together, snow nor sunlight,

enduring life—yet each of them must

submit and yield, the one with lesser power. (ll. 346-49)

Saturnus:

Why do the worse live longer then?

In this worldly realm the worse know not

a greater grace in their friendly kin. (ll. 350-52)

Solomon:

Nor can one delay for any space of time

that grievous journey, but must endure it. (ll. 353-54)

Saturnus:

Yet how does it happen for good or evil?

When they are both conceived by one woman,

two twins, nor shall their glory be alike:

one shall be wretched upon the earth,

while the other shall be most blessed,

well-regarded amongst the multitude of his people--

the first lives but a little while,

failing in this broad creation, departing soon with sorrow.

I ask you, lord Solomon, which of their lot is the better? (ll. 355-61)
Solomon:

A mother cannot control, when she conceives a child

what long journey will be shaped for him through this world.

Often she begets her baby in pain, to her own sorrow,

afterwards she endures his labor pangs, his destined hour.

Often and frequently she must greet this son grimly,

when he fares forth too young. She has a wild mind,

a weary heart, a sorrowful understanding. (ll. 362-70a)

She slides often into weariness, deprived of desire,

shorn of glory. Sometimes, mind-miserable,

she guards the hall, living far from her kin--

often she looks away from her lonely lord, wretched. (ll. 370b-74)

Therefore the mothers does not possess control,

when her child is conceived, of the fruits of her offspring,

but she must go on according to her fate,

one after another—that is the olden course of things. (ll. 375-77)

Saturnus:

And why does man not wish to eagerly work for himself

in his youth, after noble reputation and a doer of deeds,

to wade after wisdom, to struggle after understanding? (ll. 378-80)

Solomon:

Listen, a fortunate earl can easily choose for himself

within his mind’s comprehension a mild lord,

a singular nobleman. But the wretched can not do so. (ll. 381-83)

Saturnus:

And why does this water struggle throughout the worldly realm,

fulfilling deep creation? Nor is it allowed to rest by day,

venturing by night, going forth by constraining art,

christening and cleansing many of the living,

beautifying them in glory. I do not know any bit

why that current is not allowed to be still by night [. . .]. (ll. 384-89)

[a leaf is missing]

[Solomon:]

[. . .] within the embrace of his life. Always it will be obedient

to his precepts. Very often it also humiliates the host of devils

where there are a multitude of wise men together,

then the tasty bit slips away from the wise man,

when he stoops after it by the light of vision--

he blesses it and it tastes good, and devours it himself. (ll. 390-95)

Such a lonely morsel will be that much better

for every man, if it is crossed in blessing,

in order to be eaten, if he can remember to,

then the feast of the seventh day shall be his. (ll. 396-99)

Light has the hue and form of the Holy Ghost,

the nature of Christ—it reveals that very often.

If it keeps a foolish man for any amount of time

out of fetters, it streams down through the roof,

breaking and burning down the bold building,

hanging steep and wide, mounting at length,

climbing up to its nature. It knows when it may

fire from its first-origin, in the yards of its father,

soon to its homeland, whence it came at the start. (ll. 400-08)

It will be entirely in the earl’s sight

who knows how to share the Lord’s torch.

Therefore there is no kindred of living creatures,

neither fowl nor fish, nor stone of the earth,

nor welling of water, nor branch of a tree,

nor mountain nor moor, nor this middle-earth,

that it may not be of the fiery family from here on out. (ll. 409-415)
Saturnus:

Very often I have heard long ago aged men

speaking and swearing about a certain matter

which of the two might have been without doubt

of their strength, destiny warning you, when they often struggle

with their compelling force, and which was wearied before. (ll. 416-20)

I know truly, they said to me formerly,

the Philistine wisemen, when we sat at disputation,

spreading out books and laying them on our laps,

mixing up discourse, taking up many of them,

so that there would be no man of middle-earth

that could trace out any doubt in those two. (ll. 421-26)

Solomon:

Outcomes shall be turned aside only with difficulty,

raging frequently enough—she arouses weeping,

she injures the spirit, she bears the years.

And which wise heart can control all events,

if he be perceptive in mind and wishes to seek out

comfort to his friends—moreover, make use of religious spirits. (ll. 427-33)

Saturnus:

And what do the outcomes so powerful impute to use,

the origin of every crime, mother of feuds,

root of woes, head of lamentation, father and mother of every one of the capital sins, and death’s
daughter? And why is this condition among us? Listen, as long as she lives, she will never tire

of begetting conflict through the strife of sin. (ll. 434-40)

Solomon:

There must be no fellowship in God’s realm

between the blessed angels and the over-proud.

One obeys his Lord, the other works for himself through devious crafts a standard and mail-shirt, saying
that he wishes to plunder

all the heavenly kingdom with his fellows, and then to sit upon his own side, to propagate with a tenth
part of them until he knows the end to his wrath through inner making. Then the noble prince becomes
disturbed by the devil’s counsel, causing him to fall then

from the mountaintop, felling him then under the corners of the earth, ordering him to be bound fast
there. (ll. 441-49)

It was those fiends who fought us--

therefore there is an increase of weeping

for every wise man. Then the blessed discovered that,

the Lord of Angels, that they did not take to their teaching

for long, casting them out then from the glory,

and scattering them widely, and the Child of the Heaven-Dewellers

commanded him that they must also dwell in the welling,

suffering lamentation, so long as they live,

misery under heaven—and shaped Hell for them,

a killing-cold abode, covered over by winter,

sent into the water and the pits of serpents,

a terrible fierce many, with iron horns,

bloody eagles and black adders,

thirst and hunger and severe struggling,

a terror to the eye, a sorrowing--

and all of these torments will stand forever for him,

without change, all the while they should live. (ll. 450-66)

Saturnus:

Then is there any man on this earth,

those who ever claim earthly kindred,

constrained by death, before the day comes

that his count of days should clean run out

and one should call him out necessarily?

Solomon:

The Lord of Heaven sends forth an angel for all men,

when the day is stirred, he who must behold

how his mind wishes to grow up greedy

to the delight of God, longing for the majesty

of the Measurer, while it is that day. (ll. 472-76)

Then they accompany him, two spirits,

one will be bright as gold, the other dark as the abyss--

one comes [. . .]

[. . .] over hell hard as steel.

One teaches him to keep hold of love,

the Measurer’s mercy and the council of kinsmen. (ll. 477-82)

The other seduces him and teaches him to ruin,

reveals to him and discloses the wicked thoughts

of wretched men, and with that whets his mind,

leading him and latching him, enticing him

across the earth, until his eyes are filled with vexations

and he becomes angered by this miserable shield. (ll. 483-88)

So then the fiend fights in fourfold wise

until he is transformed into a worse guise

by the deeds of devils, in the space of a long day--

and works according to that will,

what entices him into crookedness. (ll. 489-92)

The angel then departs weeping, back on his way,

to his homeland, and says all that:

“Nor could I squeeze out the hardness from his heart,

the steely stone, clinging to his center.” (ll. 493-96)

[. . .].

[. . .] should it depart, before he knows the truth,

so that they should cling to the sinful souls,

amidst the hating in the middle of hell.

Then the High-King commands hell to be shut up,

filled with fire, and the fiends with it. (ll. 497-501)

Then the wise son of David had overcome

and rebuked the nobleman of Chaldea.

Nevertheless he was joyful, he who had come

on that journey, travelling from afar--

never before had his very soul laughed. (ll. 502-505)

End

Read the Dialogue of Solomon and Marcolf at: http://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/text/bradbury-

solomon-and-marcolf

and at: http://www.academia.edu/3049742/Solomon_and_Marcolf

http://www.complete-review.com/reviews/latin/solomon.htm

Solomon and Marcolf was a tremendously popular work in the Middle Ages: as Jan M. Ziolkowski notes
in his Introduction, forty-nine editions of the Latin appeared between ca. 1473 to 1619. Widely
translated, too, at the time, this, however, is the first Latin-to-English rendering since 1492 (!) -- indeed,
Ziolkowski points out that:
Although the early twentieth-century edition of the Latin has been reprinted often (always with a
degradation of its exhaustiveness), it has never been translated into a modern language.

Solomon and Marcolf is a two-part work, each pitting the Biblical Solomon against this Marcolf. Except
for a brief narrative Prologue and Epilogue, the first part consists entirely of dialogue, most of which is a
rapid-fire back and forth; as Ziolkowski has it:

Most of the dialogue proper (or improper) in S&M records pairs of antithetical proverbs and
observations, in which Solomon presents orthodox observations and Marcolf responds subversively.

As Ziolkowski explains in a footnote:

The pun on sadomasochism in the designation S&M is both intentional and very appropriate to the text
under examination.

And, indeed, much of the popularity and notoriety of the text is due to its very rawness; interestingly:

The crude words and deeds of S&M have drawn many inquisitive eyes to the text, but at the same time
they have rendered its readers over the past two centuries much more squeamish about translating it in
toto than were their predecessors in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries (and already the early modern
translations toned down and even expurgated the most intense vulgarity and blasphemy).

Modern readers shouldn't expect too much, but Solomon and Marcolf is an amusing period-piece (and,
indeed, a fun source of Latin expressions that you won't come across in your school-primer). There's not
much story to it -- certainly not the first part, which amounts to a sort of battle of wits -- but it is an
entertaining tale in contrasts, as Marcolf -- valde turpissimum et deformem, sed eloquentissimum
("most exceedingly ugly and misshapen, but most eloquent") -- shows up at King Solomon's court and, in
a manner of speaking, holds his own.
Solomon proudly recites his lineage, noting that he comes from twelve generations of prophets; Marcolf
equally proudly recites his own lineage:

Et ego sum de duodecim generacionibus rusticorum: Rusticus genuit Rustan, Rustan genuit Rusticium,
Rusticium genuit Rusticellum [. . .] et ego sum Marcolfus follus.

"And I come from twelve generations of boors: Rusticus begat Rustan, Rustan begat Rusticium,
Rusticium begat Rusticellum [. . .] and I am Marcolf the fool."

(Marcolf's geneaology-list is one of the places where the English translation most obviously can't
capture all the Latin; Ziolkowski's extensive commentary proves helpful -- as does the presence of the
original Latin text facing the English one.)

Marcolf is boorish, but he's no fool; indeed, he is very quick-witted -- though the wit also tends to be of
the crudest sort. His thoughts are not as lofty as Solomon's:

Solomon: "Between two mountains you will find a valley."

Marcolf: "Between two large thighs a vulva often lies hidden."

Or:

Solomon: "From a good man comes a good wife."

Marcolf: "From a good dinner party comes good shitting."

Yes, Solomon and Marcolf is not exactly an edifying text. But while Solomon's (semi-)wise words are
often proverbially familiar (and occasionally bafflingly dull -- "The moon completes its course within
thirty days"), Marcolf does offer some more down-to-earth and unusual insight:
"The man who fears straw never shits on stubble."

Or:

"A spurned vulva and an unfed dog go to rest sadly."

And there is certainly some appeal to his peasant-wisdom:

"When hernias turn serious, the testicles wither; when rain has come, the hot season goes away."

The bilingual format, supplemented by the extensive commentary (itself over 140 pages long), is
particularly helpful -- though occasionally neither the Latin nor Ziolkowski's gloss and theories are
sufficient to entirely demystify Marcolf's sayings -- as with:

Sorex que non potest ire ad suum foramen malleum ad suam caudam ligat.

"A mouse that cannot go to its hole ties a hammer to its tail."

The second part of Solomon and Marcolf is a bit more conventional (and descriptive) narrative, in which
Solomon and Marcolf again square off. Here too, as Solomon puts it: Per ingenium omnis facis, Marcolfe
("You accomplish everything through wit, Marcolf"), with even those with no Latin recognizing that
ingenium describes Marcolf's talents better than mere 'wit'. Among the episodes related here is the
famous Solomonic judgement about the baby that is to be split in two; in all of these episodes Marcolf's
subversive contrariety makes for provocative and amusing entertainment.

Eventually Marcolf goes too far in his insults and Solomon condemns him to be hanged from a tree;
quick-witted Marcolf at least gets him to agree that Marcolf should be allowed to choose which tree he's
hanged from -- with predictable results that see them travel far (really far) and wide in search for a tree
that meets Marcolf's approval (which, of course, none do) until they're so fed up they let him go.

As narrative, Solomon and Marcolf is of middling interest. The dialogue-part is fairly rough and falls far
short of being Socratic or even merely dramatic; the second part offers a bit more of a story-arc. It's all
good fun, and appealingly harmlessly shocking, what with the rawness of the language, suggestions, and
actions.

For anyone interested in Solomon and Marcolf, however, this edition certainly seems to cover it all.
Ziolkowski presents a unified text (and solid translation), but also offers extensive Textual Notes and a
wealth of annotations in the very long Commentary. There is an 'Alternative Beginning and Ending' (also
with annotations), a useful appendix of 'Sources, Analogues, and Testimonia', and even 'A Welsh
Solomon and Marcolf' (translated by Diana Luft). A table comparing the sequence of questions and
answers in various editions is also provided, and there are indices of 'Latin words and phrases',
'Scriptural references', and 'Motifs, proverbs, and tale types' to go along with the traditional subject-
index.

Admirably presented, Solomon and Marcolf is an amusing if fairly slight entertainment.