*This crossword puzzle is found in Dorothy Sayers' short story "The Fascinating Problem of Uncle Meleager's Will" in
Lord Peter: A Collection of All the Lord Peter Wimsey Stories,
Compiled and with an introduction by James Sandoe (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), pp. 33-51 (solution found on p. 273).
**Click here for a PDF version to print off (includes both puzzle and clues).
ACROSS
I.1 Foolish or wise, yet one remains alone, // 'Twixt Strength and Justice on a heavenly throne.
XI.1 O to what ears the chink of gold was sweet; // The greed for treasure brought him but defeat.
I.2 One drop of vinegar to two of oil // Dresses this curly head sprung from the soil.
X.2 Nothing itself, it needs but little more // To be that nothingness the Preacher saw.
I.3 Dusty though my fellows be, // We are a kingly company.
IV.3 Have your own will, though here, I hold, // The news is
not a patch upon the old.
XIV.3 Any loud cry would do as well, // Or so the poet's verses tell.
I.4 This is the most unkindest cut of all, // Except your skill be mathematical.
X.4 Little and hid from mortal sight. // I darkly work to make all light.
I.5 The need for this (like that it's cut off short) // The building of a tower to humans taught.
XI.5 "More than mind discloses and more than men believe" // (A definition by a man whom Pussyfoot doth grieve).
II.6 Backward observe her turn her way, // The way of wisdom, wise men say.
VII.6 Grew long ago by river's edge // Where grows today the common sedge.
XII.6 One of three by which, they say // You'll know the Cornishmen alway.
VI.7 Blow upon blow; five more the vanquished Roman shows // And if the foot slip one, on crippled feet one goes.
I.8 By this Jew's work the whole we find, // In a glass clearly, darkly in mind.
IX.8 Little by little see it grow // Till cut off short by hammer-blow.
VI.9 Watch him go, heel and toe, // Across the wide Karroo!
II.10 In expectation to be rich // Here you reach the highest pitch.
VII.10 Of this, concerning nothing, much— // Too often do we hear of such!
XII.10 O'er land and sea, passing on deadly wings, // Pain to the strong, to weaklings death it brings.
I.11 Requests like these, however long they be, // Stop just too soon for common courtesy.
XI.11 Caesar, the living dead salute thee here, // Facing for thy delight tooth, claw, and spear.
I.12 One word had served, but he in ranting vein // "Lend me your ears" must mouth o'er Caesar slain.
X.12 Helical circumvolution // Adumbrates correct solution.
I.13 One that works for Irish men // Both by word and deed and pen.
IV.13 Seven out of twelve this number makes complete // As the sun journeys on from seat to seat.
XIV.13 My brothers play with planets; Cicero, // Master of words, my master is below.
I.14 Free of her jesses let the falcon fly, // With sight undimmed into the azure sky.
X.14 And so you dine with Borgia? Let me lend // You this as a precaution, my poor friend.
I.15 Friendship carried to excess // Got him in a horrid mess.
XI.15 Smooth and elastic and, I guess, // The dearest treasure you possess.
DOWN
1.I If step by step the Steppes you wander through // Many of those in this, of these in those you'll view.
11.I If me without my head you do, // then generously my head renew, // Or put it to my hinder end— // Your cheer it shall nor mar nor mend.
1.II Quietly, quietly, "twixt edge and edge, // Do this unto the thin end of the wedge.
10.II "Something that hath a reference to my state?" // Just as you like, it shall be written straight.
1.III When all is read, then give the world its due, // And never need the world read this of you.
4.III Sing
Nunc Dimittis
and
Magnificat— // but look a little further back than that.
14.III Here in brief epitome // Attribute of royalty.
1.IV Lo! at a glance // The Spanish gipsy and her dance.
10.IV Bring me skin and a needle or a stick— // A needle does it slowly, a stick does it quick.
1.V It was a brazen business when // King Phalaris made these for men.
11.V This king (of whom not much is known) // By Heaven's mercy was o'erthrown.
2.VI "Bid ὀν και ὴμ ὀν farewell?" Nay, in this // The sterner Roman stands by that which is.
7.VI This the termination is // Of many minds' activities.
12.VI I mingle on Norwegian shore, // With ebbing water's backward roar.
6.VII I stand a ladder to renown, // Set 'twixt the stars and Milan town.
1.VIII Highest and lowliest both to me lay claim, // The little hyssop and the king of fame.
9.VIII This sensible old man refused to tread // The path to Hades in a youngster's stead.
6.IX Long since, at Nature's call, they let it drop, // Thoughtlessly thoughtful for our next year's crop.
2.X To smallest words great speakers greatness give; // Here Rome propounded her alternative.
7.X We heap up many with toil and trouble, // And find that the whole of our gain is a bubble.
12.X Add it among the hidden things— // A fishy tale to light it brings.
1.XI "Lions," said a Gallic critic, "are not these." // Benevolent souls—they'd make your heart's blood freeze.
11.XI An epithet for husky fellows, // That stand all robed in greens and yellows.
1.XII Whole without holes behold me here, // My meaning should be wholly clear.
10.XII Running all around, never setting foot to floor, // If there isn't one in this room, there may be one next door.
1.XIII Ye gods! think also of that goddess' name // Whose might two hours on end the mob proclaim.
4.XIII The Priest uplifts his voice on high, // The choristers make their reply.
14.XIII When you've guessed it, with one voice // You'll say it was a golden choice.
1.XIV Shall learning die amid a war's alarms? // I, at my birth, was clasped in iron arms.
10.XIV At sunset see the labourer now // Loose all his oxen from the plough.
1.XV Without a miracle it cannot be— // At this point, Solver, bid him pray for thee!
11.XV Two thousand years ago and more // (Just as we do today) // The Romans saw these distant lights— // But, oh! how hard the way!
