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Riddle 43

fols. 112r–112v

A noble guest lodges in a hall, immune to hunger, thirst, and age — but suffers if the servant treats him badly.

1 c wat indryhtne æþelum deorne
2 giest in geardum, þam se grimma ne mæg
3 hungor sceððan ne se hata þurst,
4 yldo ne adle.
5 Gif him arlice esne þenað,
6 se þe agan sceal on þam siðfate,
7 hy gesunde æt ham findað
8 witode him wiste ond blisse,
9 cnosles unrim, care,
10 gif se esne his hlaforde hyreð yfle,
11 frean on fore.
12 Ne wile forht wesan broþor oþrum;
13 him þæt bam sceðeð,
14 þonne hy from bearme begen hweorfað
15 anre magan ellorfuse,
16 moddor ond sweostor.
17 Mon, se þe wille, cyþe cynewordum
18 hu se cuma hatte,
19 eðþa se esne, þe ic her ymb sprice.
Hwæt eom ic? — what am I?

The soul, lodged in the body. The guest is the soul, the hall and servant are the body; both share one fate.