Dominating Demons in the Old English Prose Acts of Andrew

Abstract

Saintly authority over demonic forces, typologically linked to scripture, is an indispensable feature of early English hagiographies. Power struggles are especially prominent in interactions that Charles Abbetmeyer classifies as “Plaints of Lucifer,” in which a saint or apostle confronts one or more lesser demons who bemoan their “tortures and the utter hopelessness of hell.”3 The saint's victory over the devil and its minions reflects his or her spiritual perfection and psychological mastery of sin, even when the confrontation physically manifests with corporeal harm inflicted by saint and/or demon.4 This Antonian hagiographical trope has been analyzed in such narratives as Cynewulf's Juliana,5 various accounts of Guthlac of Crowland,6 and the Old English accounts of St. Margaret.7 Yet another largely ignored account of saintly domination of demons is found in the anonymous prose Old English Acts of Andrew (OE Acts).8What scholarship has considered the OE Acts generally finds it a comparatively poor rendition of the Acts of Andrew and Matthew narrative next to the Vercelli poem Andreas.9 Scott DeGregorio juxtaposes the presentations of Andrew in the OE Acts with Ælfric's homiletic adaptation of the Passio S. Andreae, arguing that “in the Blickling homily attention centers not on the apostle's power but on his frailty and his attitudes to his experiences.”10 On the other hand, Claudio Cataldi suggests that “Andrew is notable not so much for his moral virtues as for his physical and mental strength as well as for his courage in ‘fighting’ for a just cause.”11 When considering the OE Acts on its own, those like Bill Friesen argue that the story was altered to become suitable for a liturgical performance that targeted an uncritical audience.12 Focusing more closely on Andrew's confrontations with devils, Jonathan Wilcox argues that the OE Acts depiction “plays up the mockery” and “has some incongruous slapstick, but is not as comically developed as the Old English poet's full-blown mock-heroic treatment.”13 A closer examination of the episode, however, illustrates that the homiletic version is not only comically disinclined, but rather downplays the mockery of the scene to emphasize Andrew's spiritual and physical mastery over the forces of Satan. In so doing, the OE Acts follows scriptural models of authority that other scholars have identified in early English hagiography, which refashioned its saintly protagonists as less flawed and more typologically connected to Christ and other powerful milites Christi.14During the apocryphal account of Andrew's journey among the anthropophagi of Mermedonia, a demon-led mob captures the apostle, tortures him, and throws him in prison. While there, a lead demon with seven subordinate fiends comes to torment Andrew. They find more than they bargained for, however, as OE Acts describes: Ðæt deofol þa genam mid him oþre seofon deoflo, þa þe haliga Andreas þanon afliemde, and ingangende on þæt carcern hie gestodon on gesihþe þæs eadigan Andreas and hine bismriende mid myclere bismre and hie cwædon, “Hwæt is þæt þu her gemetest? Hwilc gefreolseð þe nu of urum gewealde? Hwer is þin gilp and þin hiht?” Þæt deofol þa cwæþ to þam oðrum deoflum, “Mine bearn—acwellað hine—forþon he us gescende and ure weorc.” Þa deofla þa blæstan15 hie ofer þone halgan Andreas, and hie gesawon Cristes rodetacen on his onsiene, hi ne dorston hine genealæcan ac hraðe hie onweg flugon. Þæt deofol him to cwæð, “Mine bearn for hwon ne acwealdon ge hine?” Hie him andswarodon and hie cwædon, “We ne mihton, forþon þe Cristes rodetanc on his onsiene we gesawon and we us ondredon. We witon [hine], forþon þe he ær on þæs earfoðnesse com, he ure wæs wealdend. Gif þu mæge, acwel hine. We þe on þissum ne hersumiað, þy læs wen sie þæt hine God gefreolsige and us sende on wyrsan tintrego.” Se haliga Andreas him to cwæð, “Þeah þe ge me acwellan, ne do ic eowerne willan, ac ic do willan mines Drihtnes Hælendes Cristes!” And þus hi geherdon and onweg flugon.16(That devil then took with him seven other devils, who the holy Andrew had thence put to flight, and going into that prison they stood in the sight of the blessed Andrew and mocking him with great humiliation they said, “What is it that you found here? Which power might deliver you from us? Where is your pride and your hope?” That devil then said to the other devils, “My boys—kill him—for he shames us and our work.” When the devils rushed at that saint Andrew, and they saw the sign of Christ's cross on his face, they did not dare to approach him but quickly they fled away. That [head] devil said to them, “My boys, why have you not killed him?” They answered him and they said, “We could not, because we saw the sign of Christ's cross on his face and we feared for ourselves. We know him, that he was our ruler, even before he came into that [current] hardship. If you can, you kill him. We will not obey you in this, lest there is the probability that God should free him and send us into worse torments.” The holy Andrew said to them, “Though you should kill me, I will not do your bidding, but I will do the bidding of my Lord Savior Christ!” And [when] they heard such, they fled on their way.)The Old English prose passage resembles a fifth-century Greek Praxeis version of the episode, which is the closest surviving witness to the OE Acts’ lost Latin source, with several marked differences.17 The equivalent Greek text runs so: Καὶ παραλαβῶν ὁ διάβολος μɛθ’ ἑαυτοῦ ἑπτὰ δαίμονας πονηρούς, οὕς ὁ μακάριος Ἀνδρέας ἐξέβαλɛν ἐκ τῶν πɛριχώρων, καὶ ɛἰσɛλθόντɛς ἐν τῇ ϕυλακῇ ἔστησαν ἐνώπιον τοῦ μακαρίου Ἀνδρέου καὶ ἐχλɛύαζον αὐτὸν χλɛυασμὸν μέγα· καὶ ἀποκριθέντɛς οἱ ἑπτὰ δαίμονɛς σὺν τῷ διαβόλῳ ɛἶπον τῷ μακαρίῳ Ἀνδρέᾳ· Νῦν ἐνέπɛσας ɛἰς τὰς χɛῖρας ἡμῶν· ποῦ ἐστιν ἡ δύναμίς σου καὶ ὁ ϕόβος σου καὶ ἡ δόξα σου καὶ ἡ ὕψωσις σου; ὁ ἐπαίρων σɛαυτὸν ἐϕ’ ἡμᾶς καὶ ἀτιμάζων ἡμᾶς καὶ διηγούμɛνος τὰ ἔργα ἡμῶν τοῖς κατὰ τόπον καὶ χώραν, καὶ ἐποίησας τὰ ἱɛρὰ ἡμῶν οἰκίας ἐρήμους γɛνέσθαι ἵνα μὴ ἀνɛνɛχθῶσιν θυσίαι ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὃπως καὶ ἡμɛῖς τɛρϕθῶμɛν. διὰ τοῦτο οὖν καὶ ἡμɛῖς ποιοῦμɛν τὰ ἀντάξια καὶ ἀποκτɛνοῦμέν σɛ ὡς καὶ τὸν διδάσκαλόν σου τὸν λɛγόμɛνον Ἰησοῦν ὅν ἀπέκτɛινɛν Ἡρῴδης.Καὶ ἀποκριθɛὶς ὁ διάβολος ἔλɛγɛν τοῖς ἑπτὰ δαίμοσιν τοῖς πονηροῖς· Τɛκνία μου, ἀποκτɛίνατɛ τοῦτον τὸν ἀτιμάζοντα ἡμᾶς, ἵνα λοιπὸν πᾶσαι αἱ χῶραι ἡμῶν γένωνται. Τότɛ ἐλθόντɛς οἱ ἐπτὰ δαίμονɛς ἔστησαν ἐνώπιον τοῦ ᾿Ανδρέου θέλοντɛς αὐτὸν ἀποκτɛῖναι· καὶ θɛασάμɛνοι τὴν σϕραγῖδα ἐπὶ τοῦ μɛτώπου αὐτοῦ, ἥν ἔδωκɛν αὐτῷ ὁ κύριος, ἐϕοβήθησαν, καὶ οὐκ ἠδυνήθησαν προσɛγγίσαι αὐτῷ, ἀλλ’ ἔϕυγον. καὶ ɛἶπɛν αὐτοῖς ὁ διάβολος· Τɛκνία μου, διὰ τί ἐϕύγɛτɛ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ καὶ οὐκ ἀπɛκτɛίνατɛ αὐτόν; Καὶ ἀποκριθέντɛς οἱ δαίμονɛς ɛἶπον τῷ διαβόλῳ ὅτι Ἡμɛῖς οὐ δυνάμɛθα αὐτὸν ἀποκτɛῖναι, ɛἴδομɛν γὰρ τὴν σϕραγῖδα ἐπὶ τοῦ μɛτώπου αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐϕοβήθημɛν αὐτὸν. ἐπιστάμɛθα γὰρ αὐτὸν πρὶν ἢ αὐτὸν ἐλθɛῖν ἐν τῇ θλὶψɛι ταύτῃ τῆς ταπɛινώσɛως αὐτοῦ· ἀλλὰ σὺ ἀπɛλθὼν ἀπόκτɛινον αὐτὸν ɛἰ δυνατὸς ɛἶ· ἡμɛῖς γὰρ οὐχ ὑπακούομέν σου, μή ποτɛ ὁ θɛὸς ἰάσɛται αὐτὸν καὶ παραδώσɛι ἡμᾶς ɛἰς βασάνους πικράς. Καὶ ἀποκριθɛὶς ɛἷς ἐκ τῶν δαιμόνων ɛἶπɛν· Οὐ δυνάμɛθα ἡμɛῖς αὐτὸν ἀποκτɛῖναι· ἀλλὰ δɛῦτɛ ἐπιγɛλάσωμɛν αὐτῷ ἐν τῇ θλίψɛι τῆς ταπɛινώσɛως αὐτοῦ ταύτῃ. Καὶ ἐλθόντɛς οἱ δαίμονɛς σὺν τῷ διαβόλῳ πρὸς τὸν μακάριον Ἀνδρέαν ἔστησαν ἐνώπιον αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐχλɛύαζον αὐτὸν καὶ ἔλɛγον αὐτῷ· Ἰδοὺ καὶ σὺ Ἀνδρέα ἦλθɛς ɛἰς αἰσχύνην ἀτιμίας καὶ ɛἰς βασάνους· καὶ τίς ἐστιν ὁ δυνάμɛνός σɛ ῥύσασθαι; Καὶ ταῦτα ἀκούσας ὁ μακάριος Ἀνδρέας ἔκλαιɛν μɛγάλως· καὶ ἦλθɛν αὐτῷ ϕωνὴ λέγουσα· Ἀνδρέα, διὰ τί κλαίɛις; Ἦν δὲ ἡ ϕωνἠ ἐκɛίνη τοῦ διαβόλου· μɛτήλλαξɛν γὰρ τὴν ϕωνὴν αὐτοῦ ὁ διάβολος. τότɛ ἀποκριθɛὶς ὁ Ἀνδρέας ɛἶπɛν· Κλαίω ὃτι ἐνɛτɛίλατό μοι ὁ κύριός μου λέγων· Μακροθύμησον ἐπ’ αὐτοῖς· Εἰ δὲ μή γɛ, ἔδɛιξα ὑμῖν. Καἰ ἀποκριθɛὶς ὁ διάβολος ɛἶπɛν τῷ Ἀνδρέᾳ· Εἴ τί ἐστίν σοι δυνατόν, ποίησον. Καὶ ἀποκριθɛὶς ὁ Ἀνδρέας ɛἶπɛν· ᾿Εὰν ἀποκτɛίνητέ μɛ ἐνταῦθα, οὐ μὴ ποιήσω κατὰ τὸ θέλημα τὸ ὑμῶν, ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὸ θέλημα τοῦ πέμψαντός μɛ ᾿Ιησοῦ Χριστοῦ· διὰ τοῦτο οὖν ταῦτά μοι ἐνδɛίκνυσθɛ, ἵνα ἐγκαταλɛίψω τὴν ἐντολὴν τοῦ κυρίου μου· ἐὰν γάρ μοι ὁ κύριος ἐπισκοπὴν ποιήσῃ ἐν τῇ πόλɛι ταύτῃ, παιδɛύσω ὑμᾶς καθὼς ἄξιοί ἐστɛ. Καἰ ταῦτα ἀκούσαντɛς οἱ ἑπτὰ δαίμονɛς ἔϕυγον σὺν τῷ διαβόλῳ.18(And the devil took with himself seven wicked demons, whom blessed Andrew had chased out of the vicinity, and they went to the prison. They stood before blessed Andrew and flouted him with great mockery. And the seven demons together with the devil answered and said to blessed Andrew: “Now you have fallen into our hands. Where are your power, your reverence, your doctrine, and your glory? As one rising against us, disrespecting us, and revealing our deeds to people everywhere, you made our temples fall into deserted houses so that sacrifices meant to delight also us would not be offered in them. Because of that, then, we too requite and shall kill you just like your teacher, the so-called Jesus whom Herod killed.And the devil answered to his seven wicked demons and said: “My children, kill this man who disrespects us, so that all the lands19 finally become ours.” Once arrived, the seven demons stood before Andrew intending to kill him. And at the sight of the seal on his front, which the Lord had given him, they took fright and could not approach him, but fled. And the devil said to them: “My children, for what reason did you flee and did not kill him?” And the demons answered and said to the devil: “We cannot kill him, for we saw the seal on his front and were seized with the fear of him. For we know him from before he came into this ordeal of his humiliation. But you go and kill him if you are able to. For our part, we do not obey you, lest God ever heals him and inflicts nasty torments on us.” And one of the demons answered and said: “We cannot kill him, but come, let us mock him in this ordeal of his humiliation.” And the demons went with the devil towards blessed Andrew and they stood before him and flouted him and said: “See! You too, Andrew, have come to shameful dishonor and torments. And who will pull you out of here?” Hearing this, blessed Andrew wept greatly. And to him came a voice which said: “Andrew, why are you crying?” But the voice was that of the devil, for the devil had altered his voice. Then Andrew answered and said: “I cry because my Lord commanded me and said ‘Be patient with them.’ Had He not, I would have made it pretty clear to you by now.” And the devil answered and said to Andrew: “If there is anything you are capable of, do it!” And Andrew answered and said: “If you kill me here, I shall not act following your will, but following the will of Jesus Christ who sent me. That is why you manifest yourself to me like that, so that I abandon the command of my Lord. For if the Lord pays a visit to this city for me, I shall teach you how much you are worth!” Having heard this, the seven demons fled with the devil.)20Although the OE Acts omits some of the details in the devil's initial speech, the two versions generally cleave together until the devils discover the sign of the cross or sphragis (σϕραγῖδα) on Andrew's face.21 At this point the narratives diverge, with the Praxeis describing how the devils return to mocking and tempting Andrew, and the OE Acts focusing on Andrew's authoritative position over the powerless demons.The English text emphasizes this point by expanding the demons’ second speech and clarifying that they do not just “recognize” (ἐπῐ́στᾰμαι) the apostle but acknowledge him as their “ruler” (wealdend). The devils’ statement echoes an earlier passage in the OE Acts in which the freed Mermedonians’ prisoners say to Andrew that “you are our ruler” (“þu eart ure wealdend”) (ll. 158–59). As will become evident in the following comparison to other extant versions of the story, both of these statements are unique to the OE Acts. After the acknowledgement that he is their ruler, the demons carry on to state that they will not obey their previous leader in the Greek and Old English prose. Yet the OE Acts further emphasizes the demons’ subservience and head devil's powerlessness through Andrew's statement that he will not bend to or be beguiled by demonic will but will remain loyal to his own Lord Christ. The rest of Andrew's retort is omitted, removing the empty threat that punishment would be meted out to the demons if Christ were to come to the city—a threat that seems to underscore Andrew's deficient agency. Moreover, Robert Bjork, Angela Abdou, Adin Lears, and Matthew Coker argue that the ineffectual noise and bluster of demons’ speeches in works like Andreas, Juliana, or Guthlac A identifies demonic powerlessness compared to the “clear sounding speech” (“hleoðorcwide”) of the faithful.22 The reworking of Andrew's speech in the OE Acts functions similarly as it presents Andrew as more assertive, less grammatically convoluted than his Praxeis counterpart, and more contrasting to the handwringing demons who will not dare to cross him. In the Praxeis, the demons do not acknowledge Andrew's authority or power, only their fear of God and inability to kill Andrew. Instead of the proclaimed wealdend of the OE Acts, the Praxeis's Andrew is seen crying and repeatedly mocked for his apparent lack of might. While there are mentions of various directions of obedience—the devils to their leader and Andrew to Christ—Andrew's power is constrained; the devils are irreverent.The handling of the demons in the OE Acts—especially in its presentation of Andrew's auctoritas over the demons—is markedly different from other extant versions of the narrative in western Europe, suggesting that the change was made by the early English homilist. Latin witnesses to the narrative survive in the eleventh-century Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana lat. 1274;23 the eleventh-century Bologna, University Library, MS 1576;24 the eleventh-century “Bonnet Fragment” in Rome, Codex Vallicellensis, plut. I, tom. III;25 and the twelfth-century Rome, Biblioteca Casanatense, 1104.26 The “Bonnet Fragment” does not cover Andrew's interaction with the demons, and the Vaticana version omits the episode entirely.27 The Bologna text provides this abbreviated account of the episode: Et adveniens diabolus deridebat eum dansque inproperantia super eum. Donec adsumpsit secum alios septem demones dicens, “Eamus et interficiamus eum quoniam actus nostros confundere non cessabat.” Et insurgentes demones fremebant super eum et stridebant dentibus suis, et adpropinquare ad ipsum non presumebant sed ad invocationem nominis Christi effocabantur.28(And the devil coming [there] was mocking him and giving him reproach. Meanwhile he took seven other demons with him saying, “Let us go and let us kill him since he did not cease from confounding our work.” And assaulting him, they roared at him and bared their teeth, yet did not presume to approach him but were suffocated at the invocation of the name of Christ.)This text maintains the demon's mockery of Andrew, their intention to kill the apostle, and their inability to approach him but replaces the apotropaic force of the sphragis with that of Christ's name. There is no dialogue between devil and saint, nor any mention of how the demons react to their ineffectual posturing or subsequent flight. As a result, the Bologna version reduces Andrew's agency in repelling or controlling the demons. This depiction of a passive Andrew is consistent with the Bologna text's general portrayal of the apostle as a messenger of Christ without direct authority, seen in the liberated prisoners’ hesitancy to believe him or the repeated reminders that it is the power of Christ which brings miracles and not Andrew's.29The Casanatensis version provides a fuller account of the episode, albeit with several alterations that differentiate it from the Greek and Old English texts. The scene comes slightly earlier in the narrative, after Andrew has been captured but before he has been dragged through the streets as in the other recensions. A group of Mermedonians or “retainers” (“satellites”) led by a devil seek Andrew with the intention of killing him.30When the Mermedonians approach the saint, they see the sign of the cross and retreat, daring not to kill him. The devil reproaches its retainers as being cowardly, but accepting that they cannot harm the apostle, exhorts the group to “deride” (“deridamus”) Andrew in his torments. The gang takes to this with gusto, mocking the apostle and questioning how he will escape their derision, torture, and hands. When Andrew doesn't respond to the demons but prays to heaven, the devil then attempts to trick Andrew in the guise of an angel, as in the Praxeis text. Andrew sees through this and reaffirms his commitment to God's will and threatens them with a hypothetical visit from Christ as seen in the Greek text. At this point the devil and his satellites depart. Throughout the account, there is not so much opposition to the devil as there is avoidance, and the wicked group are not forced to flee but merely “take themselves away from him” (“habierunt ab eo”). Although his tormenters recognize that they are unable to approach Andrew, they are in no way dominated, frightened, or humbled by the apostle. Rather, they seem to leave of their own accord, giving up on Andrew as a bad job. The overall emphasis in the episode appears to be on Andrew's humiliation and resistance to mockery, similar to the Praxeis and Bologna versions.The scene's humor takes on the additional layer of heroic satire in the Old English poetic account.33 The Vercelli poem Andreas (ll. 1312–87) tells how the devils come to mock Andrew (“hospword sprecan,” l. 1315) but the subordinates of the “sin-lord of murder” (“morðres manfrea”) retreat when they see the apostle's sphragis (ll. 1334–40). As found in the Praxeis, Casanatensis, and OE Acts, the sign of the cross is a devastating weapon in the soldier of Christ's fight against the forces of evil. As Thomas D. Hill and Katherine Allen Smith argue, the struggle with one's spiritual opposite, either in sinful temptation or in the faithful banishment of temptation, carries the risk of losing one's power and is the basis of the miles Christi's fight.34 The high stakes of this confrontation are reflected in the devils’ retort that there is mortal peril for the lord demon when attacking Andrew, saying, “there you will soon find a battle, a perilous fight if you dare to venture [your] life with that solitary one” (“þær þu gegninga guðe findest, frecne feohtan, gif ðu furður dearst to þam anhagan aldre geneðan,”) (ll. 1349–51). Despite recognizing this danger, the demons do agree to go back and shame the apostle while bound in “his exile” (“utan gangan eft, þæt we bysmrigen bendum fæstne, oðwitan him his wræcsið,”) (ll. 1356–58). The lead devil even ironically questions Andrew's ability to get free without its own assent saying, “Who of the race of man is so powerful over the earth that he might free you from the limb-bindings over my consent?” (“Hwylc is þæs mihtig ofer middan-geard, þæt he þe alyse of leoðu-bendum, manna cynnes, ofer mine est?”) (ll. 1372–74). Andrew replies that God can release him and threatens that God will increase the devils’ torments, at which point the fiends flee (ll. 1375–85).Throughout the passage in Andreas, the mock heroism of the demons is juxtaposed with Andrew's loyalty to Christ.35 Many analyses of the poem—such as those of Roberta Frank, Katherine O'Brien O'Keeffe, or Francisco Rozano-García—see the Andreas poet portraying Andrew as Christ's þegn to frame him within the reciprocal lord-retainer relationship or comitatus loyalty structure which might have been relatable to early English audiences.36 The scene is akin to a Germanic flyting between two warriors or troops, with each side trading barbs and boasting of how their deeds will bring honor to their lord or how they will injure and humiliate the other group. While John P. Hermann, Alexandra Olsen, and Ivan Herbison have pointed out the poem's use of Latinate spiritual warfare motifs which implicitly invoke a consideration of the relative power dynamic between the forces of Satan and those of Christ, the scene does not explicitly demonstrate the heavenly host's mastery over demons to the same extent as the OE Acts.37 Andrew's sphragis and the threat that Christ will make the devils’ lot worse are obviously presented as effective tools against the army of sin. Yet the demons do not acknowledge that Andrew is their superior nor do they directly question the authority of their wicked leaders. They never recognize a singular cosmic hierarchy with the Trinity at the top. When the lead devil claims to have sole power to remove Andrew from bound torments, it even appears to style itself as a perverse proxy of God, who holds Satan bound in the torments of Hell. The fact the demons return to their mockery after seeing they cannot approach the apostle also suggests that they continue to oppose Andrew, even if they are cowardly adversaries.As a consequence, the sphragis in the poem does not function as a turning point in the balance of power to the same degree as the OE Acts. More than in the other versions, the sphragis of the OE Acts is no laughing matter for those against whom it is wielded and initiates the collapse of demonic influence over the cannibals. From the moment of seeing Andrew's faith confirmed in the sign of the cross, the saint's domination of the demons is accepted and manifested. After admitting their subservience, the demons cease their temptations and are not seen again in the rest of the story, allowing Andrew to endure his pseudopassion and affect the conversion of Mermedonia.The OE Acts’ unique witness of Andrew being called wealdend, his emphasized mastery over the demons, and avoidance of language that situates the story in a “Germanic” warrior culture context suggests the author of the OE Acts imagined a power structure removed from the comitatus so regularly emphasized in Old English literature. The apostles and their followers are not framed as warriors or thegns as they are in Andreas but are called “servants” (“þeowas”) or “disciples” (“discipulas”), suggesting a scriptural conception of authority with the focus on Christ as the ultimate and unimpeachable authority, followed by orders of his followers. This universal Christian or ecclesiastical power dynamic fits with the English homilist's general editorial program which adapted the story for concise liturgical presentation.38 As the adapter distilled the fantastical narrative for a liturgical context, he or she reinforced Andrew's authority to unambiguously confirm the apostle's victory over the demons as well as elevate Andrew's Christological connection.39 The phrases “þu eart ure wealdend” and “he ure wæs wealdend” that refer to Andrew closely reflect the first line of the poem Lord's Prayer II, “you are our father, the ruler of all, the King in glory” (“Þu eart ure fæder, ealles wealdend, cyninc on wuldre”).40 Consequently, audiences of the Old English prose would have had little trouble parsing Andrew's likeness to Christ, as a missionary dubbed “the ruler” who harrows a dark place to free those imprisoned in spiritual blindness, resists temptation, suffers a passion, and cleanses a sinful land through a baptism in which the wicked are reborn as Christians. Even the reduced mention of the devil's mockery serves to tie Andrew to Christ, since “the communal disparagement of the prose aligns it more closely with gospel accounts of Christ's suffering.”41 Andrew's tortures particularly mirror the humiliations inflicted upon Jesus by the Roman soldiers and persecutors in Matthew 27:27–31 or Luke 23:11–36.The episode's reworking may also stem from the narrative's resemblance to scriptural works like the gospel of Luke which state that apostles and evangelists are masters of demons.42 Lautaro R. Lanziollotta argues that, while there are no passages in the primary Acta Andreae et Matthiae which are directly attributable to the New Testament, later versions of the narrative make Biblical references more pronounced.43 It seems probable that the English homilist noticed such echoes of the New Testament. For instance, Andrew's imprisonment and torture follow the prophetic note in Revelation 2:10,44 while the demons’ retort could have been inspired by Luke 4:41 in which exorcized spirits acknowledge Christ as their master before being banished.45 The devil with its seven attendant demons are reminiscent of the parable of the strong man who is beset by a similar band of wicked spirits.46 So too do Luke 10:19–20 and Paul's letter to James 4:7 provide a basis for the OE Acts’ presentation of Andrew being above demons but below Christ.47 Recognizing the base similarity between the Acta Andreae et Matthiae and such scriptural passages, the English homilist potentially reworked the passage to more closely reflect the narrative's grounding in New Testament precedent.Beyond scripture, the placement of saints as lieutenants of Christ above the rancor of demons and other Christians is a convention seen throughout hagiography. It is possible that the homilist drew inspiration from the typological parallels between Andrew's mastery of demons and hagiographical instances of devil-subjugation in accounts such as Evagrius's translation of the Life of Anthony, Cynewulf's Juliana (ll. 287–558) or the Lives of Margaret.48 A particularly close parallel in an early English context is found in the accounts of Guthlac of Crowland's fights against demons.49 Felix's Vita S. Guthlaci and the vernacular prose Life of Guthlac describe how Guthlac is dragged from his fenland hermitage to the brink of hell and told to capitulate as follows:The Old English account changes Guthlac's retort slightly, shifting the statement “what power do you have?” to “who gave you the power?”, both implying that no demonic authority could ever dominate a saint. Guthlac A likewise demeans the demons as lacking the command to control Guthlac.50 In response to the devils’ threats, Guthlac says, “Act accordingly, if the Lord Christ, life's source of light wishes to permit you” (“Doð efne swa, gif eow dryhten Crist, lifes leohtfruma lyfan wylle”) (ll. 592–93). As noted above, Andrew replies similarly to the demons in the OE Acts in saying “I will not do your bidding but I will do the bidding of my Lord Christ the Savior!” (ll. 236–37). Through these statements, the early English hagiographers emphasize that the side of Christ is always superior in contests of spiritual authority and influence and immune to demonic power. This immunity from and control over demonic agency is not based on the comitatus relationships of Old English heroic literature but is derived from the scriptural promise that those strong of faith will control manifestations of temptation.In both the OE Acts and accounts of Guthlac, the demons’ lack of power is demonstrated immediately after they make their threats. In Felix's Vita and Guthlac A, Bartholomew arrives and orders the demons to carry Guthlac back home safely (Vita §32–33; Guthlac A ll. 722–32). The Old English prose Life says that Bartholomew “ordered and bade” the demons that they “become subservient to him” (“het se halga apostol Sanctus Bartholomeus and heom bebead þæt hi him wæron underþeodde”) (§5: 260–61). In doing Bartholomew's bidding, the demons recognize that their gambit to corrupt Guthlac has failed and bemoan their failure. While the demons in the Guthlac-narratives never openly acknowledge that the saint is their superior as bluntly as they do in the OE Acts, in Guthlac A the devils offer to be loyal if he obeys them (“we þe beoð holde gif ðu us hyran wilt”) (l. 280). Guthlac sees through the ruse and remains resolved against their temptation.The Vita, Old English Life, and Guthlac A present Guthlac conquering the demons as he consolidates his faith and becomes less vulnerable to worldly sin, doubt, or demonic assaults on his corporeal presence. After the saint proves to the demons that they are unable to drag him into hell (§31),51 two of them lament:The rare use of the dual pronoun wit in the Old English follows the detail in the Vita that there are only two demons who linger to speak with Guthlac, while the subsequent use of the plural pronoun we indicates that the demons speak on behalf of the whole demonic troop. The devils’ lament that they cannot approach Guthlac mirrors the devils’ reactions in the various accounts of Andrew in Mermedonia. Yet like the OE Acts, the Old English prose makes the power comparison more explicit in presenting the devil bewailing their defeat as a complete loss of authority saying that their “might is completely overpowered” (“miht eall oferswyþed”). This subjugation is further seen in the addition in the Old English Life of Guthlac suggesting that the demons lose the ability to communicate with Guthlac. In subsequent appearances, the demons speak in Brittonic—a language Felix and other early English writers seemingly maligned (§34)52—and then without intelligible expression at all, just animalistic roaring and bleating (§36). By robbing the devils of their ability to speak, have dignity, or perform actions (“nane spræce habban . . . unc hæfst gebysmrod . . . ure miht eall oferswyþed”), Guthlac removes their agency in the “thought, word, deed” trifecta of spiritual standing, thereby demonstrating his sanctity and authority over demonic corruption.53 The OE Acts similarly humbles the demon's ability to act through the sphragis, presents a shift in their loyalties—even if driven by self-preservation—and gives Andrew the final word. Both Guthlac and Andrew build on their victories against the devils to convert and spiritually command their surroundings. Guthlac “controls the plain” of Crowland (Guthlac A, ll. 702–704) free of demonic presence while Andrew rids Mermedonia of the devils’ legacy through conversion.Andrew's domination of the demons in the OE Acts indicates the anonymous adapter was unconvinced by the more flawed apostle of the Greek or Latin narratives and sought to recast the apostle to be a stronger exemplar of saintly authority. Focusing on the story's figurative elements, the homilist drew Andrew closer to Christ as a wealdend in his own right and ensconced the saint more comfortably in the company of milites Christi like Guthlac of Crowland. This Old English refashioning of the apocryphal narrative did not draw on “Germanic” comitatus power structures but placed its hero in scriptural and hagiographical traditions of apostolic supremacy over demonic influence. The OE Acts thus illustrates how we must not always assume that “the ethos of heroic life pervades Old English literature,”54 but explore other modes—both learned and reflective of nonelite experience—by which power dynamics were conceived in early medieval England.In making the apostle of the OE Acts more authoritative, the adapter also reduced the level of humor in the narrative. While recent studies on humor in Old English hagiographies by Wilcox or Niamh Kehoe have opened up an interesting avenue of research which surely merits further consideration,55 the OE Acts demonstrates that not all early English hagiographers considered humor appropriate for saintly narratives. Its mentions of mockery are condensed and do not function to humorously highlight the ironic incongruity of the demon's powerlessness as much as they reflect an adaptation positioning its apostle as close as possible to Christ's suffering, humiliation, and authority.The apostle's heightened Christological connection matches a trend within Old English hagiographical prose that Hill, Whatley, and Magennis have identified, which often sought to make saints more authoritative and less spiritually complicated or flawed. Unlike the crying apostle who threatens tormenters with a hypothetical visit from his divine Father found in the Praxeis or Casanatensis accounts, Andrew of the OE Acts is firm in his purpose and assertive in his speech. As such, we should be wary of DeGregorio's reading of the anonymous homily's apostle as a “weak and timorous ‘man of flesh,’” especially as his reading is based on a comparison of the apostle in the OE Acts with Ælfric's portrayal of Andrew and not within the apocryphal Acts tradition itself.56 Although Ælfric undoubtedly found great gedwyld (error) in the sensational elements that do survive in the OE Acts account of cannibals and baptismal floods, the three extant Old English attestations of the legend in the Vercelli Book, Blickling Homiliary, and Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, 198 indicate that other hagiographers considered the story and its protagonist worthy of lionizing.57 The dynamic development of apocryphal narratives in early medieval England further illustrates the need to consider the spiritual models such traditions present in their own right, as Brendan Hawk has recently argued.58 In doing so, we find that the Andrew of the anonymous homily embodies idealized characteristics as a devoted follower of Christ who overpowers his enemies more definitively than his counterparts in the Greek, Latin, and Old English verse analogues. This vernacular depiction of an authoritative saint, recast in the scriptural mold of Luke's apostles and imbued with stronger Christological links, transformed the fanciful story for an accessible liturgical presentation, providing English audiences with a model of how the apostles wielded their “power and authority over all devils.”