almost the last time; on the other hand, what Orrmin wrote all ane (solus) has now become olon; we also see ones, the Latin semel. The Southern o had long driven out the old Northern a in these Eastern shires. We find Orrmin's substitution of o for on always recurring here, as o live. But what he calls bracc (fregit) is seen in the present poem as broke; our version of the Scriptures has adopted the former, our common speech the latter. We also find ut turned into out; we saw something of the kind in the Proverbs of Alfred. The turtle's mate is called in the Bestiary ‘hire olde luve:’ this of yore would have been written leóf. We have unhappily in modern English but one word for the old leóf and lufe, the person and the thing. Fugelas is pared down to fules (fowls). We find here for the first time borlic (burly) applied to elephants; it is akin to the High German purlîh. The word cliver (clever) is applied to the Devil. Mr. Wedgwood says it comes from claw; hence it in this passage has the sense of nimble-fingered, much as rapidus comes from rapio. The adjective fine, the Icelandic finn, is seen here for the first time. The word snute (snout), used of the elephant, is akin to a German word.
The Old English ceafl is now found in the shape of chauel (in the account of the whale): it is not far from our jowl.
The expression ‘fisses to him (the whale) dragen,’ shows that the verb has now got the new sense of venire, as we say, ‘to draw nigh.’
We have seen on used for aliquis; it now comes to mean quidam, and is used without any substantive, as in
