Regis ergo aduentu diuulgato, ut, quod diuina disponebat prouidentia, non serius efficeretur, nocturnis simul et diurnis intercursoribus circumquaque transmissis multitudo uulgi coadunata iniquitatis aggregat consilia et, ut suis etiam principem religiosum finibus exturbent seu, quod dictu scelus est, uitę exortem efficiant, omni condicit instantia. Ipse autem ad locum precipuum, utpote certaminis, triumphi et repausationis suę, qui Othenswi dicitur, cum Erico fratre suo, rege postmodum gloriosissimo, et Suegnone inclito, Benedicto quoque, laboris atque certaminis consorte, curialibus secum comitantibus proficiscitur, rerum ibidem euentum prestolaturus et, quid de suis consilii admitteret, tractaturus.

Sediciosa uero multitudo in dies adaugetur et non tam internuncios quam et exploratores curię regali intermittit regiaque undecumque sciscitatur consilia et ad eum cum suo comitatu deiciendum omni decertat instantia. Cuius seditionis uti princeps et fraudis commentor Pipero dictus, inter eos insignissimus, astutus ingenio, facundus eloquio, principem innocentem fraudulenter adit et, ut fidem fraudibus prebeat, legionis insensatę furibunda non occultat condicta, quę tamen per se quam plurima proponendo haud minime depromit attenuanda. Mensę igitur regali et regi proximus assidens (secundum illud Dauiticum: 'qui edebat panem meum, magnificauit aduersum me supplantationem'),

regiis tandem non modo dapibus farcitus et poculo debriatus quam et muneribus honoratus, ueluti magistro ueritatis, Iudę proditori intinctum panem porrigendo dicenti: 'quod facis, fac citius', religioso duci pacis osculo ficto et uenenato corde tradito, sicut ille lucis auctorem et pietatis eruditorem phariseis sumptis argenteis uendidit, sic et iste luce diei relicta (id est: fidei probitate deiecta), infidelitatis tenebris illaqueatus, ut nox nocti non scientiam sed insipientiam indicaturus hostilibus cateruis occurrit et, quę a rege perceperat, non pandendo sed peruertendo denunciat et, qua eum fraude circumueniant, perorat.

Eheu te miserum, infrunitum, uecordem, mente captiuum! Incassum impietatis aggregas exercitum, cum ad detestationis tuę adaugendum obprobrium, quem cum consortibus tuis persequeris, latius iam per orbem efficies celeberrimum. Cuius enim paulo ante etiam conuiua extiteras, eius nunc proditor uitę fieri non erubescebas! Cur ergo, crudelissime, tetro et inuiso tuis assistenti dextris inimico crucis signaculum non opponebas? cur arma tuis iam humeris superimminentia non preuidebas? Et si te ab scelere nec conuiuii participati benignitas nec muneris collati dignitas reuocabat, cur perhennis infamia et dedecus sempiternum ob ineffabile nefas animo, utpote industri et sagaci, non occurrebat?

Distensis etenim adhuc poculo uisceribus et ueluti sanguinolentis obtutibus necdum consumpta digesseras et iam, quibus conuiuam pium persecutoribus traderes, aduocabas. O te impudicum, pietate et probitate priuatum, orbis uniuersi acclamatione detestandum et Stigiis solum umbris ac Cerberi faucibus dignissime deputandum! O te infelicissimum! factus es Anna peior, Caipha deterior, Pilato crudelior!

Ille namque, Iudeis, ut Ihesus crucifigeretur, inclamantibus, accepta aqua non tam manus a sorde abluere quam simul et uoce et officio ab iusti sanguine immunem sese cupiebat efficere; tu uero, crudelitatis ferocitate actus et ueneno impietatis omnis malicię spiritu administrante debriatus, non modo imperiti uulgi insolentiam non compescebas, uerum ad malignitatis cęptum uelocius perficiendum exacuebas. Neque enim te ad hęc Cesaris terror incitabat, sed antiqui seductoris suggestio prouocabat, quem a scelere desuper residentis et ex alto cuncta prospicientis intuitus non reuocabat.

Nam sicut quondam domino Ihesu impius Iudas osculum prebendo Iudeis, quem comprehenderent, innotescebat, non impari modo populorum impetum tu aduersus dei hominem attrahebas. Quapropter, ut ille laqueo uita excessit, ita tu postmodum occupatus demone lingua mordicus abscisa spiritu scelestum cadauer deserente ad inferos pęnę consortem inquisiturus non immerito immitteris.

When news of the king’s arrival spread, so that what divine providence had ordained might not be delayed, messengers ran night and day in every direction, urging with all haste that the devout prince be driven from the land — or, what is a crime even to say, be deprived of life.

The prince himself went to a renowned place — destined to be the scene of his struggle, his triumph, and his rest — called Odense, together with his brother Erik, later the most glorious of kings, and the renowned Sweyn, as well as Benedict, his companion in labor and struggle, accompanied by members of the royal household. There he intended to await events and deliberate on what course he should take.

Meanwhile the rebellious multitude grew day by day. They sent not only messengers but also spies to the royal court, inquiring on all sides about the king’s plans, and with relentless effort sought to overthrow him together with his companions.

Among those involved in this rebellion stood out the chief architect of the plot, a man called Piper — clever by nature, eloquent in speech, and highly placed among them. He deceitfully approached the innocent prince and, to lend credibility to his treachery, did not conceal the furious resolutions of the senseless mob, though he claimed that many of these could be moderated if handled carefully.

Seated at the royal table close to the king — fulfilling the words of David, “He who ate my bread lifted his heel against me” — and finally filled not only with royal food and wine but also honored with gifts, he acted like Judas the betrayer. Just as Judas, after receiving the dipped bread and hearing the words “What you are about to do, do quickly,” betrayed his master with a false kiss, so this man, abandoning the light of day — that is, casting off the integrity of faith — entangled in the darkness of disbelief, went out to meet hostile bands. He did not report what he had heard from the king truthfully, but twisted it, urging them on and explaining how they might ensnare him by deceit.

Alas, wretched man — senseless, deranged, and empty of reason! In vain do you gather an army of impiety, for you will only increase the disgrace of your hatred by making the man you persecute ever more famous throughout the world. You had just been his table companion, and yet you were not ashamed to become the betrayer of his life.

Why, cruel one, did you not oppose the enemy standing at your side with the sign of the cross? Why did you not foresee the weapons already hanging over your own shoulders? And if neither the kindness of shared hospitality nor the honor of gifts received held you back from crime, why did the everlasting infamy and eternal disgrace of such an unspeakable act not occur to your sharp and calculating mind?

Your body was still swollen with wine, your eyes still bloodshot, your meal not yet digested — and already you were calling in the men to whom you would hand over your pious companion. O shameless man, stripped of piety and integrity, worthy to be condemned by the outcry of the whole world and assigned most fittingly to the shadows of the underworld and the jaws of Cerberus!

O most miserable of men! You became worse than Annas, more corrupt than Caiaphas, and more cruel than Pilate. Pilate at least, when the Jews cried out for Jesus to be crucified, took water and sought — by word and gesture — to declare himself innocent of righteous blood. But you, driven by savage cruelty and intoxicated by the poison of impiety, not only failed to restrain the violence of the ignorant mob, but sharpened it so that the work of evil might be completed more swiftly.

It was not fear of Caesar that drove you to this, but the prompting of the ancient deceiver, whom even the gaze of the one who sits on high and sees all from above did not deter you from serving. For just as Judas once revealed Jesus to the Jews by a kiss, so you drew the assault of the people against a man of God.

Therefore, just as Judas ended his life by the snare, so you too — later seized by the demon, your tongue torn out as you bit at it, your spirit abandoning your wicked body — were justly cast down to hell, to share in eternal punishment.