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<title>The Story of Beowulf</title>
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50742 ***</div>
<div class="front">
<div class="div1 cover"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e109width"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=
"Original Front Cover." width="445" height="720"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1 frenchtitle"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first xd21e115">THE STORY OF BEOWULF</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1 frontispiece"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e120width"><img src="images/frontispiece.jpg"
alt="Original Frontispiece." width="412" height="720"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1 titlepage"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e127width"><img src="images/titlepage.png" alt=
"Original Title Page." width="458" height="720"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="titlePage">
<div class="docTitle">
<div class="mainTitle">THE STORY OF BEOWULF</div>
<div class="subTitle">TRANSLATED FROM ANGLO-SAXON INTO MODERN ENGLISH
PROSE</div>
</div>
<div class="byline">BY<br>
<span class="docAuthor">ERNEST J. B. KIRTLAN</span><br>
B.A. (<span class="sc">London</span>), B.D. (<span class="sc">St.
Andrews</span>)<br>
Author of a Translation of ‘Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight’<br>
DECORATED AND DESIGNED BY<br>
<span class="docAuthor">FREDERIC LAWRENCE</span></div>
<div class="docImprint"><i>With Introduction, Notes<a id="xd21e163"
></a> and Appendices</i><br>
NEW YORK<br>
THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY<br>
PUBLISHERS</div>
</div>
<div class="div1 imprint"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first xd21e174">PRINTED BY<br>
HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br>
LONDON AND AYLESBURY,<br>
ENGLAND.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1 dedication"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first xd21e115">To<br>
THE MEMORY OF<br>
MY FATHER</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="note" class="div1 note"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">NOTE AS TO USE OF APPENDIX</h2>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">I have relegated to the Appendix all notes of any
considerable length. The reader is advised to consult the Appendices
wherever directed in the footnotes. He will then have a much clearer
conception of the principal characters and events of the poem.
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb7" href="#pb7">7</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="intro" class="div1 introduction"><span class=
"pagenum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">INTRODUCTION</h2>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-b-large.png" alt=''></span>‘Beowulf’
may rightly be pronounced
the great national epic of the Anglo-Saxon race. Not that it exalts the
race so much as that it presents the spirit of the Anglo-Saxon peoples,
the ideals and aims, the manners and customs, of our ancestors, and
that it does so in setting before us a great national hero. Beowulf
himself was not an Anglo-Saxon. He was a Geat-Dane; but he belonged to
that confraternity of nations that composed the Teutonic people. He
lived in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb8" href="#pb8">8</a>]</span>an heroic age, when the songs of the wandering
singers were of the great deeds of outstanding men. The absolute epic
of the English people has yet to be written. To some extent Arthur,
though a British King—that is to say, though he was King of the
Celtic British people, who were subsequently driven into the West, into
Cornwall and Wales and Strathclyde, by our Saxon ancestors—became
nationalized by our Anglo-Norman ancestors as a typical King of the
English people. He has become the epic King of the English in the
poetry of Tennyson. It is always a mystery to the writer that no
competent singer among us has ever laid hands upon our own Saxon hero,
King Alfred. It is sometimes said that there is nothing new under the
sun, that there is nothing left for the modern singer to sing about,
and that the realm of possible musical production is fast vanishing out
of view. Certainly this is not true of poetry. Both Alfred and Arthur
are waiting for the sympathetic voice that will tell forth to the world
the immortal splendour of <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb9" href=
"#pb9">9</a>]</span>their personalities. And just as the
Anglo-Normans idealized Arthur as a hero-king of the English nation,
though he really fought against the English, so the Saxon singer of
Beowulf has idealized this Geatish chieftain, and in some way set him
forth as the idealized chieftain of the Teutonic race.</p>
<p class="par"><i>Beowulf</i> is an Anglo-Saxon poem<span class="corr"
id="xd21e210" title="Not in source">.</span>—It consists of 3182
lines. It is written in the alliterative verse of our ancestors in the
Anglo-Saxon tongue, which, though the mother-tongue of the English, is
yet more difficult to read for the Englishman than Latin or Greek. One
wonders whether any genuine Anglo-Saxon epic existed, and has been
destroyed in the passing of the centuries. The curious feature about
this poem is that it concerns a man who was not an Anglo-Saxon. Our
poem is written in the West Saxon dialect. The original poem was
probably in Northumbrian, and was translated into West Saxon during the
period of literary efflorescence in the West Saxon Court. We do not
know whether it was a translation or whether <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb10" href="#pb10">10</a>]</span>it was
original, though the latter is, I believe, the prevailing opinion.
Arnold has put forth what may be called the missionary theory of its
origin. He believes that both the choice of subject and the grade of
culture may be connected with the missionary efforts of the English
Church of those days to extend Christianity in Friesland and further
east. ‘It does not seem improbable that it was in the interest of
the spread of Christianity that the composer of
<i>Beowulf</i>—perhaps a missioner, perhaps a layman attached to
the mission—was attracted to the Scandinavian lands; that he
resided there long enough to become thoroughly steeped in the folk-lore
and local traditions; that he found the grand figure of Beowulf the
Geat predominant in them; and that, weaving into an organic whole those
which he found suitable to his own purpose, he composed an epic which,
on his return home, must soon have become known to all the lovers of
English song.’<a class="noteref" id="xd21e218src" href=
"#xd21e218">1</a> Dr. Sarrazin <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb11" href="#pb11">11</a>]</span>thought
this unknown poet might have been the famous Cynewulf. Arnold, chiefly
on stylistic grounds, differs from this opinion. This is Arnold’s
opinion: ‘Sagas, either in the Danish dialect or that of the
Geats—more probably the latter—were current in the
Scandinavian countries in the seventh century. Among these sagas, that
of Beowulf the Geat must have had a prominent place; others celebrated
Hygelac his uncle, Hnaef the Viking, the wars of the Danes and the
Heathobards, of the Danes and the Swedes. About the end of the century
missionaries from England are known to have been busy in Friesland and
Denmark, endeavouring to convert the natives to Christianity. Some one
of these, whose mind had a turn for literature and dwelt with joy upon
the traditions of the past, collected or learnt by heart a number of
these sagas, and, taking that of <i>Beowulf</i> as a basis, and weaving
some others into his work, composed an epic poem to which, although it
contains the record of those adventures, the heroic scale <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb12" href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>of the
figure who accomplishes them all imparts a real unifying epic
interest.’ Whatever may be the truth as to its origin, there it
lies in the British Museum in its unique MS. as a testimony to all ages
of the genius of the Anglo-Saxon race.</p>
<p class="par">Now it will be quite naturally asked, What do we learn
from <i>Beowulf</i> of the genius and spirit of that race from which we
are sprung?</p>
<p class="par">The one outstanding fact, as it appears to the writer,
is the co-operative principle. And this principle stands in almost
violent opposition to the ruling principle of the modern world, in
which society is divided into a number of mutually opposite sections or
classes, whose interests clash with fatal results to individual and
corporate well-being. In this poem we see the whole community, from the
King to the churl, bound by one common interest. King and chieftain and
thane and churl freely intermingle and converse. They eat and drink and
sleep under one common roof, or at least in one common enclosure.
<i lang="la">Tempora mutantur!</i> but the idea of social <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb13" href="#pb13">13</a>]</span>interaction and mutual interdependence never found
more vivid or real expression than in the pictures presented in
<i>Beowulf</i> of Hart, the Great Hall of Hrothgar, and in the Court
and township of Hygelac, King of the Geats. In the Hall of Hart
Hrothgar and his Queen and his courtiers sit at the high table on the
dais, and the lower orders at the long table down the hall. The spears
and shields adorn the walls. After the evening meal, the singer, or
scop, as he is called, to the accompaniment of the harp, tells forth
the deeds of some ancient feud, such as that of Finn and the Danes or
the Fight at Finnsburgh, or the feud of the Danes and the Heathobards,
in which Freawaru, Hrothgar’s daughter, and Ingeld figure so
tragically. Then the benches are removed, and the rude beds are spread
out on the floor of the Great Hall and they seek ‘evening
rest.’ The whole is a picture of fraternal and paternal
government. If Grendel, the Fen-monster, carries away one of their
number, then there is weeping and lamentation. The King and
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb14" href="#pb14">14</a>]</span>the Queen and the nobility and the commonalty are
all concerned in the tragedy. The loss of one is the loss of all. When
Aeschere is slain by Grendel’s mother Hrothgar thus bewails his
loss: ‘Seek no more after joy; sorrow is renewed for the Danish
folk. Aeschere is dead, he who was my wise counsellor and my adviser
and my comrade in arms, when in time of war we defended ourselves; ...
but now the hand lieth low which bestowed every kind of joy upon
you.’ And in the end of the poem it is said of Beowulf that he
was ‘most gentle to his folk.’ The King was king only
‘for his folk.’ The interest of his folk, their physical
and moral well-being, was his chief solicitude.</p>
<p class="par">2. But not only was this so within any one nation or
tribe, but there was a sense of comradeship and mutual responsibility
among those of various tribes and nations. When Beowulf the Geat hears
in Gautland of the raids of Grendel upon Hart, he commands his folk to
make ready a boat that he may fare across the sea to the help of
Hrothgar, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb15" href="#pb15">15</a>]</span>because ‘he was lacking in warriors.’
Beowulf’s whole mission in Hart was the discharge of a solemn
obligation of help from the strong to the weak. He announces to
Hrothgar that he is come ‘to cleanse Hart of ill,’ and this
he feels he <i>must</i> do. ‘Woe is me if I preach not the
gospel!’ cried St. Paul. ‘Woe is me if I help not the weak
and cleanse not the demon-infested palace of my kinsman!’ cried
Beowulf. ‘Weird goes as he willeth’; that is, Fate must be
submitted to. And Fate hath willed that he should help the weak and
‘cleanse the ill.’</p>
<p class="par">3. Then there is the tremendous sense of loyalty on the
part of the folk to their king or chieftain. The idea of the
‘Comitatus’ bound the folk to their leaders. Nothing more
disgraceful could be conceived than the desertion of the leader.
Terrible were the reproaches hurled at the trembling cowards who had
hurried away into the woods, to save their own skins, whilst their King
Beowulf wrestled with the dragon, the enemy of the people. ‘Yea,
death is better for any <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb16" href=
"#pb16">16</a>]</span>earl than a life of reproach.’
Loyalty, a passionate loyalty to the King, was the greatest of virtues,
and disloyalty and cowardice the greatest of vices. Society was an
organic whole, bound together by the bands of loyalty and devotion to
the common good.</p>
<p class="par">4. There is, too, the fatalistic note heard all through
the poem. Beowulf feels himself hard pressed by Fate. The Anglo-Saxon
called Fate by the name ‘Weird,’ which has survived in
modern English in the sense of something strange and mysterious. Weird
was the God, or Goddess of Fate. Again and again in the poem we hear
the solemn, minor, dirge-like refrain, ‘Weird hath willed
it’; ‘Goeth Weird as she willeth’ (chapter VI. p.
44). There is this perpetual overshadowing and almost crushing sense of
some inscrutable and irresistible power that wieldeth all things and
disposeth all things, which is, I believe, a pre-eminent characteristic
of the Anglo-Saxon race, and accounts for the dare-devil courage of her
sons upon the battle-field or on the high seas. We <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb17" href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>find it,
too, in its morally less attractive form in the recrudescent pessimism
of modern literature. Thomas Hardy is the lineal descendant in
literature of the author of <i>Beowulf</i> when he says: ‘Thus
the President of the Immortals had finished his sport with poor
Tess.’<a class="noteref" id="xd21e264src" href="#xd21e264">2</a></p>
<p class="par">5. And closely allied to this sense of Destiny is the
sombre view of life that is characteristic of the Teutonic peoples.
There is none of that passionate joy in beauty and in love that we find
in the Celtic literature. Life is a serious thing in <i>Beowulf</i> and
with us of the Anglo-Saxon race. The scenery of <i>Beowulf</i> is
massive and threatening and mist-encircled. Angry seas are boiling and
surging and breaking at the foot of lofty and precipitous cliffs. Above
the edge of the cliffs stretch mysterious and gloomy moorlands, and
treacherous bogs and dense forests inhabited by malignant and powerful
spirits, the foes of humanity. In a land like this there is no time for
love-making. Eating, drinking, sleeping, fighting there make
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb18" href="#pb18">18</a>]</span>up the business of life. It is to the Celtic
inflow that we owe the addition of love in our modern literature. The
composer of <i>Beowulf</i> could not have conceived the Arthur Saga or
the Tristram love-legend. These things belong to a later age, when
Celtic and Teutonic elements were fused in the Anglo-Norman race. But
we still find in our literature the sombre hues. And, after all, it is
in the forest of sorrow and pain that we discover the most beautiful
flowers and the subtlest perfumes.</p>
<p class="par">I desire to express my indebtedness to A. J. Wyatt and
William Morris for their translations; to A. J. Wyatt for his edition
of the poem in the original; to Thomas Arnold for his terse and most
informing work on <i>Beowulf</i>; to the authors of articles in the
<i>Encyclopaedia Britannica</i> and in <i>Chambers’s
Encyclopaedia</i> and <i>The Cambridge History of English
Literature</i>.</p>
<p class="par signed"><span class="sc">Ernest J. B. Kirtlan.</span></p>
<p class="par dateline"><span class="sc">Brighton</span>,<br>
<i>November, 1913</i>. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb19" href="#pb19"
>19</a>]</span></p>
</div>
<div class="footnotes">
<hr class="fnsep">
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e218" href="#xd21e218src">1</a></span> See Arnold,
p. 115. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e218src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e264" href="#xd21e264src">2</a></span> See
conclusion of <i>Tess of the D’Urbervilles</i>. <a class=
"fnarrow" href="#xd21e264src">↑</a></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="body">
<div id="ch1" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="super">The Story of Beowulf</h2>
<h2 class="label">I</h2>
<h2 class="main">The Prelude</h2>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-n-large.png" alt=''></span>Now we have
heard, by inquiry, of the glory of the kings of the people, they of the
Spear-Danes, how the Athelings were doing deeds of courage.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e322src" href="#xd21e322">1</a>
Full often Scyld, the son of Scef, with troops of warriors, withheld
the drinking-stools from many a tribe. This earl caused terror when at
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb20" href="#pb20">20</a>]</span>first he was found in a miserable case. Afterwards
he gave help when he grew up under the welkin, and worshipfully he
flourished until all his neighbours over the sea gave him obedience,
and yielded him tribute. He was a good king. In after-time there was
born to him a son in the Court, whom God sent thither as a saviour of
the people. He saw the dire distress that they formerly suffered when
for a long while they were without a prince. Then it was that the Lord
of Life, the Wielder of glory, gave to him glory. Famous was
Beowulf.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e330src" href="#xd21e330">2</a> Far and wide spread his fame. Heir was he of Scyld
in the land of the Danes. Thus should a young man be doing good deeds,
with rich gifts to the friends of his father, so that in later days,
when war shall come upon them, boon companions may stand at his side,
helping their liege lord. For in all nations, by praiseworthy deeds,
shall a man be thriving.</p>
<p class="par">At the fated hour Scyld passed away, very vigorous in
spirit, to the keeping <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb21" href="#pb21"
>21</a>]</span>of his Lord. Then his pleasant companions
carried him down to the ocean flood, as he himself had bidden them,
whilst the friend of the Scyldings was wielding words, he who as the
dear Lord of the Land had ruled it a long time. And there, in the
haven, stood the ship, with rings at the prow, icy, and eager for the
journey, the ferry of the Atheling.</p>
<p class="par">Then they laid down their dear Lord the giver of rings,
the famous man, on the bosom of the ship, close to the mast, where were
heaps of treasures, armour trappings that had been brought from far
ways. Never heard I of a comelier ship, decked out with battle-weapons
and weeds of war, with swords and byrnies. In his bosom they laid many
a treasure when he was going on a far journey, into the power of the
sea. Nor did they provide for him less of booty and of national
treasures than they had done, who at the first had sent him forth, all
alone o’er the waves, when he was but a child. Then moreover they
set a golden standard high o’er his head, and let the sea take
him, and gave <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb22" href="#pb22">22</a>]</span>all to the man of the sea. Full sad were their
minds, and all sorrowing were they. No man can say soothly, no, not any
hall-ruler, nor hero under heaven, who took in that lading.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e341src" href="#xd21e341">3</a></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e345width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb23" href="#pb23">23</a>]</span></p>
</div>
<div class="footnotes">
<hr class="fnsep">
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e322" href="#xd21e322src">1</a></span> See
<a href="#app2">Appendix II</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e322src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e330" href="#xd21e330src">2</a></span> Not the
hero of the poem. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e330src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e341" href="#xd21e341src">3</a></span> Cp. with
this the ‘Passing of Arthur,’ as related by Tennyson. The
meaning is clear. Cp. also Appendix. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e341src">↑</a></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch2" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="label">II</h2>
<h2 class="main">The Story</h2>
<div id="s1" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">I</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-m-large.png" alt=''></span>Moreover the
Danish Beowulf,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e360src" href="#xd21e360"
>1</a> the dear King of his people, was a long time
renowned amongst the folk in the cities (his father, the Prince, had
gone a-faring elsewhere from this world). Then was there born to him a
son, the high Healfdene; and while he lived he was ruling the happy
Danish people, and war-fierce and ancient was he. Four children were
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb24" href="#pb24">24</a>]</span>born to him: Heorogar the leader of troops, and
Hrothgar, and Halga the good. And I heard say that Queen Elan (wife of
Ongentheow) was his daughter, and she became the beloved comrade of the
Swede. Then to Hrothgar was granted good speed in warfare and honour in
fighting, so that his loyal subjects eagerly obeyed him, until the
youths grew doughty, a very great band of warriors. Then it burned in
his mind that he would bid men be building a palace, a greater
mead-hall than the children of men ever had heard of, and that he would
therein distribute to young and to old, as God gave him power, all the
wealth that he had save the share of the folk and the lives of men.</p>
<p class="par">Then I heard far and wide how he gave commandment to
many a people throughout all the world, this work to be doing, and to
deck out the folkstead. In due time it happened that soon among men,
this greatest of halls was now all ready. And Hart he called it, whose
word had great wielding. He broke <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb25"
href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>not his promise, but gave to
them rings and treasures at the banquet. The hall towered on high, and
the gables were wide between the horns,<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e369src" href="#xd21e369">2</a> and awaited the
surging of the loathsome flames. Not long time should pass ere hatred
was awakened after the battle-slaughter, twixt father-in-law and
son-in-law.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e372src" href="#xd21e372">3</a></p>
<p class="par">Then it was that the powerful sprite who abode in
darkness, scarce could brook for a while that daily he heard loud joy
in the hall. There was sound of harping, and the clear song of the
bard.</p>
<p class="par">He who knew it was telling of the beginning of mankind,
and he said that the Almighty created the world, and the bright fields
surrounded by water. And, exulting, He set the sun and the moon as
lamps to shine upon the earth-dwellers, and adorned the world with
branches and leaves. And life He was giving to every kind of living
creature. So noble men lived in joy, and were all blessed till one
began to do evil, a devil <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb26" href=
"#pb26">26</a>]</span>from hell; and this grim spirit was
called Grendel. And he was a march-stepper, who ruled on the moorlands,
the fens, and the stronghold. For a while he kept guard, this unhappy
creature, over the land of the race of monsters, since the Creator had
proscribed him. On the race of Cain the Eternal Lord brought death as
vengeance, when he slew Abel. Nor did he find joy in the feud, but God
for the crime drove him far thence. Thus it was that evil things came
to their birth, giants and elves and monsters of the deep, likewise
those giants who for a long while were striving with God Himself. And
well He requited them.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e391width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb27" href="#pb27">27</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s2" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">II</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then he went
visiting the high house after nightfall, to see how the Ring-Danes were
holding it. And he found there a band of Athelings asleep after
feasting. And they knew not sorrow or the misery of men. The grim and
greedy wight of destruction, all fierce and furious, was soon ready for
his task, and laid hold of thirty thanes, all as they lay sleeping. And
away he wended, faring homeward and exulting in the booty, to revisit
his dwellings filled full of slaughter. At the dawn of day the
war-craft of Grendel was seen by men. Then after his feeding they set
up a weeping, great noise in the morning.</p>
<p class="par">The glorious Lord, the very good Atheling, sat all
unblithely, and suffered <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb28" href=
"#pb28">28</a>]</span>great pain, and endured sorrow for
his thanes, when they saw the track of the loathly one, the cursed
sprite. That struggle was too strong, loathsome and long. And after but
one night (no longer time was it) he did them more murder-bale, and
recked not a whit the feud and the crime. Too quick was he therein.
Then he who had sought elsewhere more at large a resting-place, a bed
after bower, was easily found when he was shown and told most truly, by
the token so clear, the hate of the hell-thane. He went away farther
and faster, he who would escape the fiend. So he ruled and strove
against right, he alone against all of them, until the best of houses
stood quite idle. And a great while it was—the friend of the
Danes suffered distress and sorrows that were great the time of twelve
winters.</p>
<p class="par">Then was it made known to the children of men by a
sorrowful singing that Grendel was striving this while against
Hrothgar, and waged hateful enmity of crime and feud for many a year
with lasting strife, and would hold no truce <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb29" href="#pb29">29</a>]</span>against
any man of the main host of Danes, nor put away the life-bale, or
settle feud with a fee, nor did any man need to hope for brighter
bettering at the hand of the banesman. The terrible monster, a dark
death-shadow, was pursuing the youth and the warriors, and he fettered
and ensnared them, and ever was holding night after night the misty
moorlands. And, men know not ever whither workers of hell-runes wander
to and fro. Thus the foe of mankind, the terrible and lonesome
traveller, often he did them even greater despite. And he took up his
dwelling in the treasure-decked Hall of Hart in the dark night, nor
could he come near the throne the treasure of God, nor did he know His
love.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e409src" href="#xd21e409">4</a></p>
<p class="par">And great was the evil to the friend of the Danes, and
breakings of heart. Many a strong one sat in council, and much they
discussed what was best for stout-hearted men to do against the fearful
terror. And sometimes they went vowing at their heathen shrines
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb30" href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>and offered sacrifices, and with many words
pleaded that the devil himself would give them his help against this
menace to the nation. For such was their custom, the hope of the
heathen. And ever of Hell they thought in their hearts; the Creator
they knew not, the Judge of all deeds, nor knew they the Lord God, nor
could they worship the Protector of the heavens, the Wielder of glory.
Woe be to that man who shall shove down a soul through hurtful malice
into the bosom of the fire, and who hopes for no help nor for any
change—well shall it be with that one who after his death day
shall seek the Lord and desire protection in the embrace of the
Father.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e417width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb31" href="#pb31">31</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s3" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">III</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-s.png" alt=''></span>So Beowulf,
son of Healfdene, ever was brooding over this time-care, nor could the
brave hero avert woe. That conflict was too strong, loathsome and long,
that terrible and dire distress, the greatest of night-bales which came
to the people.</p>
<p class="par">Then the thane of Hygelac,<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e429src" href="#xd21e429">5</a> the good man of
the Geats,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e432src" href="#xd21e432">6</a> heard from home of the deeds of Grendel. And on the
day of this life he was the strongest of main of all men in the world;
noble was he and powerful. He bade a fair ship be made, and said that
he would be seeking the War-King, the famous prince, over the swan
path, and that he needed men. And the proud churls little blamed him
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb32" href="#pb32">32</a>]</span>for that journey, though dear he was to them. They
urged on the valiant man and marked the omen. The good man of the Geats
had chosen champions of those who were keenest, and sought out the
ship. And one, a sea-crafty man, pointed to the land-marks. Time passed
by; the ship was on the waves, the boat under the cliff, and the
warriors all readily went up to the stern. And the currents were
swirling, with sea and sand. And men were carrying on to the naked deck
bright ornaments and splendid war-armour. Then they shove forth the
ship that was well bound together; and it set forth over the waves,
driven by the wind, this foamy-necked ship, likest to a bird; until
about the same time on the next day, the ship with its twisted stern
had gone so far that the sailing men could see the land, the shining
sea-cliffs, the steep mountains, and the wide sea-nesses. Then they
crossed the remaining portion of the sea.<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e440src" href="#xd21e440">7</a> The Geats went
up quickly <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb33" href="#pb33">33</a>]</span>on to the shore, and anchored the ship. War-shirts
and war-weeds were rattling. And they gave God thanks for their easy
crossing of the waves. Then the ward of the Swedes, who kept guard over
the sea-cliffs, saw them carry down the gangways the bright shields and
armour, all ready. And full curious thought tortured him as to who
these men were. He, the thane of Hrothgar, rode down to the beach on
his charger, and powerfully brandished the spear in his hand and took
counsel with them.</p>
<p class="par">‘Who are ye armour-bearers, protected by byrnies,
who come here thus bringing the high vessel over the sea, and the
ringed ship over the ocean? I am he that sits at the end of the land
and keep sea-guard, so that no one more loathsome may scathe with
ship-army the land of the Danes. Never have shield-bearers begun to
come here more openly, yet ye seem not to know the password of
warriors, the compact of kinsmen. Nor ever have I seen a greater earl
upon earth, than one of your band, a warrior in armour. And
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb34" href="#pb34">34</a>]</span>except his face belie him, he that is thus
weapon-bedecked is no hall-man; but a peerless one to see. Now must I
know your lineage before you go farther with your false spies in the
land of the Danes. Now O ye far-dwellers and sea-farers, hear my
onefold thought—haste is best in making known whence ye are
come.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e450width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s4" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">IV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then the
eldest gave answer, and unlocked his treasure of words, the wise one of
the troop: ‘We are of the race of the Geats and hearth-comrades
of Hygelac. My father was well known to the folk, a noble prince was he
called Ecgtheow. And he bided many winters, ere as an old man he set
out on his journeys away from the dwelling places. And wellnigh every
councillor throughout all the world remembered <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb35" href="#pb35">35</a>]</span>him
well. We through bold thinking have come to seek thy lord, the son of
Healfdene, the protector of the people. Vouchsafe to us good guidance.
We have a great business with the lord of the Danes, who is far famed.
Nor of this shall aught be secret as I am hoping. Well thou knowest if
’tis true as we heard say, that among the Danes some secret
evil-doer, I know not what scather, by terror doth work unheard-of
hostility, humiliation, and death. I may give counsel through greatness
of mind to Hrothgar as to how he, the wise and good, may overcome the
fiend, if ever should cease for him the baleful business and bettering
come after and his troubles wax cooler, or for ever he shall suffer
time of stress and miserable throes, while the best of all houses shall
remain on the high stead.’</p>
<p class="par">Then the watchman, the fearless warrior, as he sat on
his horse, quickly made answer: ‘The shield-warrior who is wide
awake, shall know how to tell the difference between words and works,
if he well bethink him. I can see that this <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb36" href="#pb36">36</a>]</span>band of
warriors will be very welcome to the Lord of the Danes. Go ye forth,
therefore, bear weapons and armour, as I will direct you. And I will
command my thanes to hold against every foe, your ship in honour, new
tarred as it is, and dry on the sands, until it shall carry the dearly
loved man, that ship with the twisted prow, to the land of the Geats.
To each of the well-doers shall it be given to escape scot-free out of
the battle rush.’ Then they went forth carrying their weapons.
And there the ship rested, fastened by a rope, the wide-bosomed vessel
secured by its anchor. The Boar<a class="noteref" id="xd21e465src"
href="#xd21e465">8</a> held life ward, bright and
battle-hard and adorned with gold, over the neck-guard of the handsome
Beowulf. There was snorting of the war-like-minded, whilst men were
hastening, as they marched on together till they caught sight of the
splendid place decked out in gold. And it was the most famous of
palaces, under the heavens, of the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb37"
href="#pb37">37</a>]</span>earth-dwellers, where the ruler
was biding. Its glory shone over many lands. Then the dear one in
battle showed them the bright house where were the brave ones, that
they might straightway make their way towards it. Then one of the
warriors turned his horse round, and spake this word: ‘Time it is
for me to go. May the Almighty Father hold you in favour, and keep you
in safety in all your journeyings. I will go to the sea-coast to keep
my watch against the fierce troops.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e471width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s5" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">V</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>The way was
paved with many coloured stones, and by it they knew the path they
should take. The coat of mail shone brightly, which was firmly
hand-locked. The bright iron ring sang in the armour as they came on
their way in their warlike <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb38" href=
"#pb38">38</a>]</span>trappings at the first to the great
hall. Then the sea-weary men set down their broad shields, their
shields that were wondrous hard ’gainst the wall of the great
house, and bowed towards the bench. And byrnies were rattling, the
war-weapons of men. And the spears were standing in a row together, the
weapons of the sea-men and the spear grey above. And the troop of armed
men was made glorious with weapons. Then the proud chieftain asked the
warriors of their kindred: ‘From whence are ye bringing such
gold-plated shields, grey sarks and helmets with visors, and such a
heap of spears? I am the servant and messenger of Hrothgar. Never saw I
so many men prouder. I trow it was for pride and not at all for
banishment, but for greatness of mind that Hrothgar ye are
seeking.’</p>
<p class="par">Then answered the brave man, the chief of the Geats, and
spake these words, hard under helmet: ‘We are the comrades at
table of Hygelac. Beowulf is my name. I will say fully this my errand
to the son of Healfdene the famous <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb39"
href="#pb39">39</a>]</span>chieftain, unto thy lord and
master, if he will grant us that we may salute him who is so
good.’</p>
<p class="par">Then spake Wulfgar (he was Prince of the
Wendels<a class="noteref" id="xd21e488src" href="#xd21e488">9</a>). His courage was known to all, his valour and
wisdom. ‘I will make known to the Prince of the Danes, the Lord
of the Scyldings<a class="noteref" id="xd21e491src" href="#xd21e491"
>10</a> the giver of rings the famous chieftain as
thou art pleading, about thy journey, and will make known to thee
quickly the answer which he the good man thinks fit to give me.’
Quickly he turned then to where Hrothgar was sitting, old and very grey
with his troop of earls. The brave man then went and stood before the
shoulders of the Lord of the Danes. Well he knew the custom of the
doughty ones. Wulfgar then spoke to his lord and friend: ‘Here
are come faring from a far country over the wide sea, a people of the
Geats, and the eldest the warriors call Beowulf. And they are asking
that they may exchange words <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb40" href=
"#pb40">40</a>]</span>with thee, my lord. O gladman
Hrothgar, do not refuse to be talking with them. For worthy they seem
all in their war-weeds, in the judgement of earls. At least he is a
daring Prince who hither hath led this band of warriors.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e497width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s6" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">VI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then spake
Hrothgar the protector of the Danes: ‘Well I knew him when he was
a child, and his old father was called Ecgtheow. And to him did Hrethel
of the Geats give his only daughter, and his son is bravely come here
and hath sought out a gracious friend.’ Then said the sea-farers
who had brought the goodly gifts of the Geats there for thanks, that he
the battle-brave had in his hand-grip the main craft of thirty
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb41" href="#pb41">41</a>]</span>men. ‘And the holy God hath sent him for
favour to us West Danes, and of this I have hope, ’gainst the
terror of Grendel. I shall offer the goodman gifts for his daring. Now
make thou haste and command the band of warrior kinsmen into the
presence. Bid them welcome to the people of the Danes.’ Then went
Wulfgar even to the hall-door, and spake these words: ‘My liege
lord, the Prince of the East Danes, commands me to say that he knows
your lineage. And ye who are bold of purpose are welcome hither over
the sea-waves. Now may ye go in your war-weeds, under your visored
helmets to see Hrothgar. Let your swords stay behind here, the wood and
the slaughter-shafts and the issue of words.’ Then the Prince
rose up, and about him was many a warrior, a glorious band of thanes.
And some bided there and held the battle-garments as the brave man
commanded. And they hastened together under the roof of Hrothgar as the
man directed them. The stout-hearted man went forward, <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb42" href="#pb42">42</a>]</span>hard
under helmet till he stood by the dais.</p>
<p class="par">Then Beowulf spake (and the byrny shone on him, the coat
of mail, sewn by the cunning of the smith): ‘O Hrothgar, all
hail! I am the kinsman and comrade of Hygelac.<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e512src" href="#xd21e512">11</a> Many marvels I
have set on foot in the days of my youth. The affair of Grendel was
made known to me in my native land. Sea-farers told how this best of
all palaces stood idle and useless to warriors, after evening light
came down under the brightness of heaven. Then my people persuaded me,
the best and the proudest of all my earls, O my lord Hrothgar, that I
should seek thee, for they well knew my main strength. For they
themselves saw how I came forth bloodstained from the power of the
fiend, when I bound the five, and destroyed the giant’s kin, and
slew ’mongst the waves, sea-monsters by night, and suffered such
dire distress, and wreaked vengeance for the strife <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb43" href="#pb43">43</a>]</span>of the
Geats (for woe they were suffering), and I destroyed the fierce one.
And now all alone I shall settle the affair of Grendel the deadly
monster, the cruel giant. And one boon will I be asking, O Prince of
the Bright Danes, thou lord of the Scyldings, Protector of warriors and
friend of the folk, that thou wilt not refuse, since so far I am come,
that I and my troop of earls, this crowd of brave men, may alone
cleanse out Hart. I have heard say also that the monster because of his
rashness recks not of weapons. And, if Hygelac the blithe-minded will
be my liege lord, I will forgo to carry to the battle a sword, or broad
shield all yellow; but I will engage by my hand-grip with the enemy,
and strive for life, foe with foe. And he whom Death taketh shall
believe in the doom of the Lord. And I doubt not he will fearlessly
consume the people of the Geats, if he may prevail in the war-hall as
he has often done with the strong men of the Danes. And thou shalt not
need to hide my head if Death take <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb44"
href="#pb44">44</a>]</span>me, for he will seize me all
bloodstained, and will bury the slaughter all bloody, and will think to
taste and devour me alone and without any sorrow, and will stain the
glens in the moorland. And thou needest not to sorrow longer over the
food of my body. And if battle take me, send to Hygelac this best of
coats of mail, the noblest of garments. It is the heirloom of Hrethel
the work of Weland<a class="noteref" id="xd21e519src" href="#xd21e519"
>12</a>; and let Weird go as it will.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e523width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s7" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">VII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-h.png" alt=''></span>Hrothgar gave
answer, the protector of the Danes: ‘O my friend Beowulf, now
thou hast sought us, for defence and for favour. Thy father fought in
the greatest of feuds. He was banesman to Heatholaf <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb45" href="#pb45">45</a>]</span>amongst
the Wylfings, when for battle-terror the King of the Geats could not
hold him. Thence he sought the folk of the South Danes over the welter
of waves. Then first was I ruling the Danish folk, and in my youthful
days possessed the costly jewels, the treasure city of heroes. Then
Heregar was dead, my elder brother not living was he, the child of
Healfdene. He was a better man than I was. Then a payment of money
settled the matter. I sent to the Wylfings ancient presents over the
sea-ridges. And he swore to me oaths. And it is to me great sorrow in
my heart to tell any man what Grendel hath done in Hart through his
malice, of humiliation and sudden horror. My hall-troop has grown less,
the crowd of my thanes; Weird<a class="noteref" id="xd21e534src" href=
"#xd21e534">13</a> has swept them towards the terror
of Grendel. But easily may the good God restrain <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb46" href="#pb46">46</a>]</span>the
deeds of the foolish scather. And drunken with beer the warriors full
often boasted o’er the ale-cup that they would bide in the
beer-hall the battle of Grendel with the terror of swords. Then was the
mead-hall all bloodstained in the morning when dawn came shining, and
all the benches were wet with gore, the hall with sword-blood. And so
much the less did I rule o’er dear doughty ones whom death had
taken. Now sit down to the banquet and unbind thy thoughts, thy hopes
to the thanes, as thy mind inspires thee.’ Then was there room
made in the beer-hall for the Geats all together. And there they went
and sat down, the strong-hearted men, proud of their strength. And a
thane waited on them, who bore in his hands the ale-cup bedecked, and
he poured out the sparkling mead, while the clear-voiced bard kept
singing in Hart. There was joy to the heroes, and a very great
gathering of Danes and of Geats.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e540width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb47" href="#pb47">47</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s8" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">VIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-s.png" alt=''></span>Spake then
Unferth, the son of Eglaf, who sat at the feet of the Lord of the Danes
and opened a quarrel. (For the journey of Beowulf, of the brave
sea-farer, was vexation to him, for he could not brook that ever any
other man than he himself should obtain greater fame in all the
earth.)</p>
<p class="par">‘What!’ said he, ‘art thou that
Beowulf who didst contend with Breca, and strovest for the mastery in
swimming o’er wide seas, when ye two for pride were searching the
waves and for foolish boasting risked your lives in the deep waters? No
man could dissuade you from that sorrowful journey, neither friend nor
foe, when ye two swam in the sea, when ye two enfolded the waves with
your arms and measured the sea-ways and brandished your arms as you
glided o’er the ocean. The sea <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb48" href="#pb48">48</a>]</span>boiled with waves the
wintry whelming. And for seven nights long ye were toiling in the
stress of seas. But he o’erpowered thee in swimming, for greater
strength had he. Then at the morning tide the sea bore him up to the
land of the Heathoremes. Thence he was seeking the friend of his people
his own dear country, the land of the Brondings, the fair city of
refuge, where he had his own folk, and a city and rings. The son of
Beanstan soothly fulfilled his boasting against thee. So do I deem it a
worse matter, though thou art everywhere doughty in the rush of battle
and grim warfare, if thou shalt be daring to bide near Grendel a
night-long space.’</p>
<p class="par">Then Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘What! my
friend Unferth, drunken with beer, many things thou art saying about
that Breca and talkest of his journey. But soothly I tell thee that I
had the greater strength in that swimming, and endurance in the waves.
We two agreed when we were youngsters, and boasted (for we were both
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb49" href="#pb49">49</a>]</span>still in the days of our youth) that we in the
ocean would be risking our lives. And so in deed we did. We had a naked
sword hard in our hands when we were swimming. We two were thinking to
guard us ’gainst whale fishes. Nor over the sea-waves might he be
floating a whit far from me, more quickly on the waters. Then we
together were in the sea for the space of five nights until the flood,
the boiling waters drove us asunder. And the coldest of weather, and
the darkening night, and a wind from the north battle-grim turned
against us, and rough were the waves. And the mind of the mere-fishes
was stirred when my shirt of mail that was hand-locked gave to me help
against the foe. The decorated battle-robe lay on my breast all adorned
with gold, and the doomèd and dire foe drew to the bottom, and
fast he had me grim in his grip. Still to me was granted that I reached
to the monster with the point of my sword. And the mighty sea-deer
carried off the battle-rush through my hand.<span class="corr" id=
"xd21e558" title="Not in source">’</span></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e562width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb50" href="#pb50">50</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s9" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">IX</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-s.png" alt=''></span>So
then evil-doers did often oppress me. And I served them with my dear
sword as was most fitting. Not at all of the feasting had they any joy.
Evil destroyers sat round the banquet at the bottom of the sea, that
they might seize me. But in the morning, wounded by my sword, they lay
up on the foreshore, put to sleep by my weapon so that they hindered no
more the faring of the sea-goers. Light came from the eastward, the
bright beacon of God. The waves grew less that I could catch sight of
the sea-nesses, the windy walls. Weird often saveth the earl that is
undoomed when his courage is doughty. Nevertheless it happened that I
slew with my sword nine of the sea-monsters. Nor have I heard under
vault of heaven of a harder night-struggle, nor of a more <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb51" href="#pb51">51</a>]</span>wretched
man on the sea-streams. Still I escaped from the grasp of the foes,
with my life, and weary of the journey. When the sea bore me up, on the
flood tide, on the welling of waves, to the land of the Finns. Nor have
I heard concerning thee of any such striving or terror of swords. Breca
never yet, nor either of you two, did such a deed with shining sword in
any battle-gaming (not that I will boast of this too much), yet wast
thou the slayer of thy brother, thy chief kinsman. And for this in hell
shalt thou suffer a curse, though thy wit be doughty. And soothly I
tell thee, O son of Eglaf, that Grendel that hateful monster never had
done such terrors to thy life and humiliation in Hart if thy mind and
thy soul were as battle-fierce as thou thyself dost say. But he has
found that he needed not to fear the feud the terrible sword-thrust of
your people the Danes. He taketh forced toll, and spareth none of the
Danish people, but joyfully wageth war, putteth them to sleep and
feedeth on them, and expecteth no fight <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb52" href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>from the Danes. But I
shall ere long offer him in war the strength and the courage of the
Geats. Let him go who can to the mead all proudly when morning light
shall shine from the south, another day over the children of
men.’</p>
<p class="par">Then in the hall the giver of rings was grey-haired and
battle-brave. The Prince of the Danes was hopeful of help. The guardian
of the folk fixed on Beowulf his firm-purposed thought. There was
laughter ’mong heroes, din resounded, and words were winsome.
Wealtheow went forth, the Queen of Hrothgar, mindful of kinship and
decked out in gold, she greeted Beowulf in the hall. And then the
lovely wife first proffered the goblet to the Lord of the East Danes,
and bade him be blithe at the beer-drinking, he who was dear to all his
people. And gladly he took the banquet and hall-cup, he the victorious
King. The lady of the Helmings<a class="noteref" id="xd21e578src" href=
"#xd21e578">14</a> went round about every one of the
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb53" href="#pb53">53</a>]</span>youthful warriors, and proffered the costly cup,
until the time came that the ring-adorned Queen, most excellent in
spirit, bore the mead-cup then to Beowulf. She, the wise in words,
greeted the Geats and gave thanks to God that she had her desire that
she might trust in any earl for help against such crimes. He gladly
received it, he the battle-fierce warrior, from the hand of Wealtheow,
and then began singing, inspired by a warlike spirit.</p>
<p class="par">Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘I had
intended at once to work out the will of this your people when I set
forth over the sea and sat in my sea-boat with the troop of my people,
or that I would fall in the slaughter fast in the fiend’s grip. I
shall yet acquit myself as befitteth an earl, or in the mead-hall await
my last day.’ And well the lady liked the words, the boasting of
the Geat. And that lovely queen went all decked out in gold to sit by
her lord. Then mighty words were spoken in the hall as before, by the
people in joyance and the noise of the victors, until the <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb54" href="#pb54">54</a>]</span>son of
Healfdene<a class="noteref" id="xd21e587src" href="#xd21e587">15</a> straightway would be seeking his evening rest. And
he knew that a battle was doomed in the high hall to the monster when
no longer they could see the light of the sun, or darkening night came
stalking over all the shapes of shadows. The troop of warriors rose up,
the Lord greeted the other, Hrothgar greeted Beowulf, and wished him
good health and the warding of that wine-hall, and he spake the word:
‘Since the time that I could lift my hand or my shield, never
have I given the mighty hall of the Danes into the care of any, except
now to thee. Have now and hold thou this best of houses, be thou
mindful of honour, and show thyself courageous, and wakeful
‘gainst foes. Nor shalt thou lack joy if thou escapest from that
brave work with life.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e591width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb55" href="#pb55">55</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s10" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">X</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then Hrothgar
departed with his troop of heroes, he the Prince of the Scyldings; out
of Hall went he, for the battle-chieftain would be seeking out
Wealtheow his Queen, that they might go to rest. The glory of kings had
appointed a hall-ward, as men say, against Grendel. A thane was in
waiting on the Prince of the Danes, and his watch was keeping against
the giant. The Lord of the Geats readily trusted the proud strength,
the favour of God. Then doffed he the iron coat of mail and his helmet
from his head, and gave his sword bedecked, the choicest of weapons, to
a thane that was serving, and bade him to hold ready his armour. Then
the good man spoke some words of boasting: ‘I reck not myself
meaner in war-powers and works of battle than Grendel doth <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb56" href="#pb56">56</a>]</span>himself.
For I will not with sword put him to sleep and be taking his life away,
though well I might do it. He knows not of good things, that he may
strike me, or hew my shield, though brave he may be in hostile
working—but we two by right will forbear the sword if he dare be
seeking warfare without weapon, and then God all-knowing, the holy
Lord, shall adjudge the glory on whichever side He may think
meet.’ Then the bold in fight got him to rest, and the pillow
received the head of the earl, and many a keen sea-warrior lay down on
his bed in the hall about him. None of them thought that he thence
would ever seek another dear home, folk or free city where he was a
child; for they had heard that fell death had taken, ere this too many,
in that wine-hall, of the people of the Danes. But the Lord gave
weavings of war-speed to the people of the Geats, both comfort and
help. So that they all overcame their enemies through the craft of one
man and by his might only. And truly it is said that God Almighty doth
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb57" href="#pb57">57</a>]</span>wield for ever the race of men. Then came in the
wan night the shadow-goer gliding. Warriors were sleeping when they
should have been keeping guard over that palace; all save one only. It
was well known to men that their constant foe could not draw them into
shadowy places when the Creator was unwilling. But he, ever wakeful, in
angry mood, and fiercely indignant against the foe, was waiting the
issue.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e607width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s11" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then came
Grendel, stalking from the moors among the misty hill-slopes, and he
bore God’s anger. And the wicked scather of human kind fully
intended to ensnare a certain one in the high hall. So he wended his
way under the welkin to where he knew that the best of wine-halls,
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb58" href="#pb58">58</a>]</span>the gold-hall of man, was adorned with gold
plating. Nor was that the first time that he sought out the home of
Hrothgar. Nor ever in former or later days did he find a harder welcome
from hall-thanes. Then the creature bereft of all joy came to the great
hall, and the door, strongly bound with fire-bands, soon sprang open at
his touch. And the evil-minded one in his fury burst open the door of
the palace. And soon after this the enemy, angry in mind, was treading
o’er the doomèd floor. And a fearsome light streamed forth
from his eyes likest to a flame. And he could see many a warrior in
that palace, a troop of peace-lovers asleep together, a company of
kinsmen, and he laughed aloud. Then the terrible monster fully intended
to cut off from life every one of them there, when he was expecting
abundance of meat. But that fate was not yet, that he should lay hold
of any more of human kind after that night.</p>
<p class="par">Then did Beowulf, kinsman of Hygelac, see the dire
distress, how the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb59" href="#pb59"
>59</a>]</span>wicked scather would fare with sudden grip.
Nor did the monster think to delay, but at the first he quickly laid
hold of a sleeping warrior, and tore him to pieces all unawares, and
bit at the flesh and drank the streaming blood, and devoured huge
pieces of flesh. And soon he had eaten up both feet and hands of the
man he had killed. Then he stepped up to the great-hearted
warrior<a class="noteref" id="xd21e622src" href="#xd21e622">16</a> where he lay on the bed, and took him in his
hands. He reached out his hand against the enemy, and quickly received
him with hostile intent, and sat upon his arm. The Keeper of crimes
soon was finding that he never had met in all the quarters of the earth
amongst other men a greater hand-grip. And in mind and heart he was
fearful, and eager to be gone and to flee away into darkness to seek
the troop of devils. But that was not his fate, as it had been in days
of yore. Then the good kinsman of Hygelac remembered the evening talk,
and stood upright and laid hold upon him. His fingers burst. The
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb60" href="#pb60">60</a>]</span>giant was going forth, but the earl stepped after.
The famous one intended to escape more widely, howsoever he might, and
to flee on his way thence to the sloping hollows of the fens. That
journey was sorrowful, which the harmful scather took to Hart. The
lordly hall resounded. And great terror there was to all the Danes, the
castle-dwellers, to each of the brave. And both the mighty guardians
were fiercely angry. The hall resounded. Then was it great wonder that
the wine-hall withstood the bold fighters, and that it fell not to the
earth, that fair earth-dwelling. But very firm it was standing,
cunningly shaped by craft of the smith, within and without. Then on the
floor was many a mead-bench, as I have heard tell, decked out with
gold, where the fierce ones were striving. Nor did the wise Danes
formerly suppose that any man could break down a hall so noble and
decorated with antlers, or cunningly destroy it, unless the bosom of
flame swallowed it up in smoke. The roaring went up now <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb61" href="#pb61">61</a>]</span>enough.
And an awful terror came to the North Danes, to each one of those who
heard weeping from the ramparts, the enemy of God singing a fierce
song, a song that was empty of victory, and the captive of hell
lamenting his sorrow. For he that was strongest of men in strength held
him fast on the day of his life.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e630width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s12" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>The Prince of
earls would not at all let go alive the murderous comer, nor did he
count his life as of use to any of the peoples. And many an earl of
Beowulf’s brandished the old heirloom, and were wishful to defend
the life of their far-famed liege-lord, if they might do so. And they
knew not, when they entered the battle, they the hard-thinking ones,
the battle-men, and they thought to hew on all sides <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb62" href="#pb62">62</a>]</span>seeking
out his spirit, that not any choice iron over the earth nor any battle
weapon could be greeting the foe, but that he had forsworn all
victorious weapons and swords. And miserable should be his passing on
the day of this life, and the hostile sprite should journey far into
the power of devils. Then he found out that, he who did crimes long
before this with mirthful mind to human kind, he who was a foe to God,
that his body would not last out; but the proud kinsman of Hygelac had
him in his hands. And each was loathsome to the other while he lived.
The terrible monster, sore with wounds was waiting. The gaping wound
was seen on his shoulder. His sinews sprang open; and the bone-lockers
burst. And great victory was given to Beowulf. Thence would Grendel,
mortally wounded, flee under the fen-slopes to seek out a joyless
dwelling. The more surely he knew he had reached the end of his life,
the number of his days. Joy befell all the Danes after the
slaughter-rush. So he had cleansed the hall of Hrothgar—he who
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb63" href="#pb63">63</a>]</span>had come from far, the proud and stout-hearted
one, and saved them from strife. He rejoiced in the night-work and in
the glorious deeds. His boast he had fulfilled, this leader of the
Geats, which he made to the East Danes, and likewise made good all the
distresses and the sorrows which they suffered of yore from the foe,
and which through dire need they had to endure, of distresses not a
few. And when the battle-brave man laid down the hand, the arm and
shoulder under the wide roof, that was the manifest token.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e644width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s13" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then in the
morning, as I have heard say, was many a battle-warrior round about the
gift-hall. Came the folk-leaders from far and from near along the wide
ways to look at the marvel. Nor did his passing seem <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb64" href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>a thing
to grieve over to any of the warriors of those who were scanning the
track of the glory-less wight, how weary in mind he had dragged along
his life-steps, on the way thence doomed and put to flight, and
overcome in the fight at the lake of the sea-monsters. There was the
sea boiling with blood, the awful surge of waves all mingled with hot
gore. The death-doomèd one dyed the lake when void of joys he
laid down his life in the fen for refuge. And hell received him. Thence
after departed the old companions, likewise many a young one from the
joyous journeys, proud from the lake to ride on mares, the youths on
their horses. And there was the glory of Beowulf proclaimed. And many a
one was saying that no man was a better man, no, none in the whole wide
world under arch of the sky, of all the shield-bearers, neither south
nor north, by the two seas. Nor a whit did they blame in the least
their friend and lord, the glad Hrothgar; for he was a good king.</p>
<p class="par">Meanwhile the famed in battle let <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb65" href="#pb65">65</a>]</span>the
fallow mares leap and go faring forth to the contest, wherever the
earth-ways seemed fair unto them and well known for their choiceness:
and the thane of the king, he who was laden with many a vaunt, and was
mindful of songs, and remembered a host of very many old sagas, he
found other words, but bound by the truth. And a man began wisely to
sing the journey of Beowulf, and to tell skilful tales with speeding
that was good, and to interchange words. He told all that ever he had
heard concerning Sigmund,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e659src" href=
"#xd21e659">17</a> with his deeds of courage, and
much that is unknown, the strife of Waelsing; and the wide journeys
which the children of men knew not at all, the feud and the crimes,
when Fitela was not with him, when he would be saying any of such
things, the uncle to the nephew, for always they were comrades in need
at all the strivings. They had laid low very many of the giant’s
race by means of the sword. And after his death-day a no little
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb66" href="#pb66">66</a>]</span>fame sprang up for Sigmund when he, the hard in
battle, killed the worm, the guardian of the hoard. He alone the child
of the Atheling, hazarded a fearful deed, under the grey stone. Nor was
Fitela with him. Still it happened to him that his sword pierced
through the wondrous worm, and it stood in the wall, that doughty iron,
and the dragon was dead. And so this monster had gained strength in
that going so that he might enjoy the hoard of rings by his own doom.
He loaded the sea-boat and bore the bright treasures on to the
ship’s bosom, he the son of Waels. The worm melted hot. He was of
wanderers the most widely famous in deeds of courage, amongst men, the
protector of warriors. He formerly throve thus. Then the warfare of
Heremod<a class="noteref" id="xd21e667src" href="#xd21e667">18</a> was waning, his strength and his courage, and he
was betrayed among the giants into the hands of the foes, and sent
quickly away. And too long did whelming sorrow vex his <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb67" href="#pb67">67</a>]</span>soul. He
was a source of care to his people, to all the nobles, and many a proud
churl often was lamenting in former times the way of life of the
stout-hearted, they who trusted him for the bettering of bales, that
the child of their lord should always be prospering, and succeed to his
father’s kingdom, and hold the folk, the hoard and city of
refuge, the kingdom of heroes, the country of the Danes. But Beowulf
Hygelac’s kinsman was fairer to all men; but crime assailed
Heremod.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e673src" href="#xd21e673">19</a></p>
<p class="par">Sometimes they passed along the fallow streets
contending on mares. Then came the light of morning and hastened forth.
And many a stiff-minded messenger went to the high hall to see the rare
wonder. Likewise the King himself, the ward of the hoard of rings, came
treading all glorious and with a great suite, forth from the bridal
bower, and choice was his bearing, and his Queen with him passed along
the way to the Mead-hall with a troop of maidens.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e679width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb68" href="#pb68">68</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s14" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XIV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-h.png" alt=''></span>Hrothgar
spake. He went to the hall and stood on the threshold and saw the steep
roof all decked out with gold and the hand of Grendel. ‘Let
thanks be given quickly to God for this sight,’ said he.
‘Often I waited for the loathsome one, for the snares of Grendel.
May God always work wonder after wonder, He the Guardian of glory. It
was not long ago that I expected not a bettering of any woes for ever,
when, doomed to blood, this best of all houses stood all stained with
gore. Now has this Hero done a deed, through the power of the Lord,
which none of us formerly could ever perform with all our wisdom. Lo!
any woman who gave birth to such a son among human kind, may say, if
she yet live, that the Creator was gracious unto her in bearing of
children. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb69" href="#pb69">69</a>]</span>Now, O Beowulf, I will love thee in heart as my
son. Hold well to this new peace. Nor shall there be any lack of joys
to thee in the world, over which I have power. Full oft I for less have
meted out rewards and worshipful gifts to a meaner warrior, one weaker
in strife. Thou hast framed for thyself mighty deeds, so that thy doom
liveth always and for ever. May the All-wielder ever yield thee good as
He now doth.’</p>
<p class="par">Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘We framed to
fight that brave work with much favour, and hazarded a deed of daring
and the might of the unknown. I quickly gave you to see the monster
himself the enemy in his fretted armour ready to fall. I thought to
twist him quickly with hard grip on a bed of slaughter so that he
should lie in the throes of death, because of my hand-grip, unless he
should escape with his body. But I could not cut off his going when the
Creator willed it not. I cleft him not readily, that deadly fiend. He
was too strong on his feet. Nevertheless <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb70" href="#pb70">70</a>]</span>he left behind his hand
as a life protection to show the track, his arm and his shoulders. But
not by any means thus did that wretched creature get any help, nor by
that did the evil-doer, brought low by sin, live any longer. But sorrow
hath him in its fatal grip closely encompassed with baleful bands.
There shall a man covered with sins be biding a mickle doom as the
shining Creator will prescribe.’</p>
<p class="par">Then was the man silent, the son of Ecglaf, in his
boasting speech about deeds of battle, when the Athelings looked at the
hand high up on the roof, by the craft of the earl, and the fingers of
the foe, there before each one. And each of the places of the nails was
likest to steel, the claw of the heathen, the uncanny claw of the
battle warrior. Every one was saying that no very good iron, of any of
the brave ones, would touch him at all, that would bear away thence the
bloody battle-hand of the monster.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e698width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb71" href="#pb71">71</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s15" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then was it
bidden that Hart should be decked by their hands on the inside. And
many there were of the men and wives who adorned that wine-hall the
guest-chamber. And the tapestries shone along the walls brocaded with
gold; many a wonderful sight for every man who stareth upon them. And
that bright dwelling was greatly marred, though within it was fast
bound with iron yet the door-hinges had sprung apart. The roof alone
escaped all safe and sound when the monster turned to flight despairing
of life and doomed for his crimes. Nor will it be easy to escape from
that fate, whosoever may try to, but he shall get by strife the ready
place of the children of men of the soul-bearers, who dwell upon earth,
by a fate that cannot be escaped where <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb72" href="#pb72">72</a>]</span>his body shall sleep
after the banquet fast in the tomb.</p>
<p class="par">Then was the time for Healfdene’s son to go into
the hall, when the King himself would partake of the banquet. Nor have
I ever heard tell that any people in greater numbers bore themselves
better about their treasure-giver. And the wealthy ones sat down on the
bench and rejoiced in their feeding. And full courteously their kinsmen
took many a mead-cup, they the stout-hearted Hrothgar and Hrothulf in
the high hall. And within was Hart filled with friends. And by no means
were the Danes the while framing treacheries. Then the son of Healfdene
gave to Beowulf the golden banner, the decorated staff banner as a
reward for his conquest, and the helm and the byrny. And many a one saw
the youth bear in front the bejewelled sword. Beowulf took the cup in
the hall. Nor did he need to be ashamed of the fee-gift in the presence
of warriors. Nor have I heard tell of many men giving to others on any
ale-bench, four gifts gold-decked, in friendlier <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb73" href="#pb73">73</a>]</span>fashion.
The outside rim wound with wires gave protection to the head on the
outer side around the crown of the helmet. So that many an
heirloom<a class="noteref" id="xd21e714src" href="#xd21e714">20</a> could not hurt fiercely the helmet that was
hardened by being plunged in cold water when the shield-warrior should
attack the angry one. The Protector of earls commanded eight horses to
be brought in under the barriers, with bridles gold plated. And a
varicoloured saddle was fixed upon one of them, decked out with
treasures, and this was the battle-seat of the high King when the son
of Healfdene would be doing the sword-play. Never in the van did it
fail the warrior so widely kenned when the helmets were falling. Then
the Prince of the Danes gave to Beowulf the wielding of them both, of
horses and weapons; and bade him well enjoy them. And thus in manly
fashion the famous chieftain, the treasure-guardian of heroes, rewarded
the battle onslaught <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb74" href="#pb74"
>74</a>]</span>with horses and treasures so as no man can
blame them, whoever will be saying rightly the truth.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e720width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s16" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XVI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then the Lord
of earls as he sat on the mead-bench gave glorious gifts to each one of
those who had fared with Beowulf over the ocean-ways, and heirlooms
they were; and he bade them atone for that one with gold whom formerly
Grendel had wickedly killed as he would have done more of them unless
Almighty God and the spirit of Beowulf had withstood Weird. The Creator
ruleth all of human kind, as still He is doing. And good understanding
is always the best thing, and forethought of mind. And he who long
enjoys here the world in these strife-days, shall be biding both
pleasant and loathsome fate. Then was there clamour and singing
together <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb75" href="#pb75">75</a>]</span>in the presence of the battle-prince of Healfdene,
and the harp was sounded and a song often sung, when Hrothgar’s
scop would tell forth the hall-mirth as he sat on the mead-bench.</p>
<p class="par">‘When Fear was befalling the heirs of
Finn,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e733src" href="#xd21e733">21</a> the hero of the Half-Danes, and Hnaef of the Danes
must fall in the slaughter of the Frisian People. Not in the least did
Hildeburh need to be praising the troth of the Jutes. For sinlessly was
she deprived of her dear ones in the play of swords of children and
brothers. By fate they fell, wounded by arrows. And she was a sad
woman. Nor without reason did the daughter of Hoc<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e739src" href="#xd21e739">22</a> mourn their
doom. When morning light came, and she could see under the sky the
murder of her kinsmen where she before in the world had the greatest of
joy. For warfare took away all the thanes of Finn except a mere
remnant, so that he could not in the place where they met fight any
warfare at all with Hengest, nor <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb76"
href="#pb76">76</a>]</span>seize from the Prince’s
thane the woful leavings by fighting. But they offered him terms, so
that they all made other room for them on the floor, and gave them
halls and a high seat that they might have half the power with the
children of the Jutes; and the son of Folcwalda<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e744src" href="#xd21e744">23</a> honoured the
Danes every day with fee-givings, and bestowed rings on the troop of
Hengest, yea, even great treasures plated with gold, so that he would
be making the kin of the Frisians bold in the beer-hall. Then they
swore on both sides a treaty of peace. Finn swore with Hengest and all
without strife that he held in honour the woful remnant by the doom of
the wise men, and that no man there by word or work should break the
treaty, or ever annul it through treacherous cunning, though they
followed the slayers of their Ring-giver, all bereft of their lord as
was needful for them. But if any one of the Frisians by daring speech
should bring to mind the murderous hate between them, then should
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb77" href="#pb77">77</a>]</span>the edge of the sword avenge it. Then sworn was
that oath, and massive gold was lifted up from the hoard. Then was
Hnaef, the best of the warriors, of the bold Danes, ready on the
funeral pyre. And the blood-stained shirt of mail was easily seen, the
golden boar, in the midst of the flame, the iron-hard boar,<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e750src" href="#xd21e750">24</a>
and many an Atheling destroyed by wounds. Some fell on the field of
death. Then Hildeburh commanded her very own son to be thrust in the
flames of the pyre of Hnaef, his body to be burned and be put in the
fire. And great was the moaning of the mother for her son, and
dirge-like lamenting as the warrior ascended. And the greatest of
slaughter-fires wound its way upwards towards the welkin and roared
before the cavern. Heads were melting, wounds burst asunder. Then blood
sprang forth from the wounds of the body. Flame swallowed all, that
most cruel of ghosts, of both of those folk whom battle destroyed.
Their life was shaken out.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e754width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb78" href="#pb78">78</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s17" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XVII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then
the warriors went forth to visit the dwellings which were bereft of
friends, and to look upon the land of the Frisians, the homesteads and
the high town. And Hengest was still dwelling with Finn, that
slaughter-stained winter, all bravely without strife. And he thought on
the homeland, though he could not be sailing his ringed ship over the
waters. The sea boiled with storm and waged war with the wind. And
winter locked up the ice-bound waves till yet another year came in the
court, as still it doth, which ever guards the seasons, and the
glory-bright weather. Then winter was scattered, and fair was the bosom
of the earth.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e764src" href="#xd21e764">25</a>
And the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb79" href=
"#pb79">79</a>]</span>wanderer strove to go, the guest from
the court. And much more he thought of vengeance for the feud than of
the sea-voyage, as to how he could bring about an angry encounter, for
he bore in mind the children of the Jutes. And so he escaped not the
lot of mortals when Hunlafing did on his arm the best of swords, the
flashing light of the battle, whose edge was well known to the Jutes.
And dire sword-bale after befel the fierce-minded Finn, even in his
very own home, when Guthlaf and Oslaf lamented the grim grip of war and
the sorrow after sea-journeys, and were charging him with his share in
the woes. Nor could he hold back in his own breast his fluttering soul.
Then again was the hall adorned with the bodies of foemen, and Finn was
also slain, the King with his troop, and the Queen was taken. And the
warriors of the Danes carried to the ships all the belongings of the
earth-king, such as they could find in the homestead of Finn, of
ornaments and jewels. They bore away also the noble wife Hildeburh down
to the sea away <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb80" href="#pb80">80</a>]</span>to the Danes, and led her to her
people.’</p>
<p class="tb"></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">So a song was sung, a lay of the gleemen, and much mirth
there was and great noise from the benches. And cup-bearers offered
wine from wondrous vessels. Then came forth Queen Wealtheow in her
golden circlet, where the two good men were sitting, the uncle and his
nephew. And still were they in peace together, and each true to the
other. Likewise Unferth the Spokesman sat there at the foot of the Lord
of the Danes. And each of them trusted Unferth’s good heart and
that he had a great soul, though he was not loyal to his kinsmen at the
sword-play.</p>
<p class="par">Then spake the Queen of the Danes: ‘Take this cup,
O my liege lord, thou giver of rings. Be thou right joyful, thou
gold-friend to men; do thou speak mild words to the Geats, as a man
should be doing. Be glad of thy Geats and mindful of gifts. Now thou
hast peace both near and far. There is one who told me that thou
wouldst have <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb81" href="#pb81">81</a>]</span>the battle-hero for thy son. Now Hart is all
cleansed, the bright hall of rings. Enjoy whilst thou mayest many
rewards, and leave to thy kinsmen both folk and a kingdom when thou
shalt go forth to look on eternity. I know my glad Hrothulf<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e782src" href="#xd21e782">26</a>
will hold in honour this youth if thou, O Hrothgar the friend of the
Danes, dost leave the world earlier than he. I ween that he will yield
good to our children if he remembers all that has passed—how we
two worshipfully showed kindness to him in former days when he was but
a child.’ Then she turned to the bench where were her sons
Hrothric and Hrothmund and the children of heroes, the youths all
together. There sat the good man Beowulf of the Geats, by the two
brothers.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e786width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb82" href="#pb82">82</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s18" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XVIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-a.png" alt=''></span>And the cup
was borne to them, and a friendly invitation given to them in words,
and twisted gold was graciously proffered him, two arm-ornaments,
armour and rings, and the greatest of neck-rings of which I heard tell
anywhere on earth. Ne’er heard I of better hoard jewels of heroes
under the sky, since Hama carried away the Brosinga-men<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e796src" href="#xd21e796">27</a>
to the bright city, ornaments and treasure vessel. It was he who fled
from the cunning plots of Eormanric<a class="noteref" id="xd21e802src"
href="#xd21e802">28</a> and chose eternal gain.
Hygelac of the Geats next had the ring, he who was the grandson of
Swerting, when under the standard he protected the treasure and
defended the plunder. And Weird carried him off when he, because of
pride suffered woes, the feud with the Frisians. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb83" href="#pb83">83</a>]</span>Then
carried he the jewels, the precious stones over the sea, he who was the
ruling prince, and he fell under shield; and the life of the king and
the coat of mail and ring together came into possession of the Franks.
And worse warriors plundered the slaughter after the war. And the
corpses of the Geats held the field of death. The hall resounded with
noise when Wealtheow spake these words in the midst of the court:</p>
<p class="par">‘Enjoy this ring, dearest Beowulf, and use this
coat of mail, these national treasures, and good luck befall thee!
Declare thyself a good craftsman, and be to these boys gentle in
teaching, and I will be mindful of thy guerdon for that thou hast so
acted that men will esteem thee far and near for ever and ever, even as
widely as the sea doth encompass the windy earth-walls. Be a noble
Atheling as long as thou livest. I give thee many treasures. Be thou
kindly in deed to my sons, joyful as thou art. For here is each earl
true to his fellow, and mild of mood, and faithful to his liege-lord.
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb84" href="#pb84">84</a>]</span>Thanes are gentle, the people all ready. O ye
warriors who have drunk deep, do as I tell you.’ She went to the
seat where was a choice banquet, and the men drank wine. They knew not
Weird, the Fate that was grim, as it had befallen many an earl.</p>
<p class="par">Then evening came on, and Hrothgar betook him to his own
quarters, the Prince to his resting-place, and a great number of earls
kept guard o’er the palace as often they had done in former days.
They laid bare the bench-board and spread it over with beds and
bolsters. And one of the beer-servants eager and fated went to his bed
on the floor. And they set at his head war-shields, that were bright.
And over the Atheling, there on the bench was easily seen the towering
helmet and the ringed byrny, the glorious spear. It was their wont to
be ready for war both at home and in battle, at whatever time their
lord had need of them. The season was propitious.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e817width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb85" href="#pb85">85</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s19" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XIX</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then they
sank down to sleep. And sorely some of them paid for their evening
repose, as full often it had happened to them since Grendel came to the
gold-hall and did evil, until an end was made of him, death after sins.
It was easily seen and widely known to men that an avenger survived the
loathsome one, for a long time after the war-sorrow. A woman, the
mother of Grendel, a terrible wife, bore in mind her woes. She who was
fated to dwell in the awful lake in the cold streams since Cain became
a sword-slayer to his only brother, his father’s son. He then
went forth marked for the murder, and fled from human joys and dwelt in
the waste. And thence he awoke many a fatal demon. And Grendel
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb86" href="#pb86">86</a>]</span>was one of them, the hateful fierce wolf, who
found the man wide awake awaiting the battle. And there was the monster
at grips with him, yet he remembered the main strength the wide and
ample gift which God gave to him, and trusted in the favour of the
Almighty for himself, for comfort and help by which he vanquished the
enemy and overcame the hell-sprite. Then he departed abject, bereft of
joy, to visit the death-place, he the enemy of mankind.</p>
<p class="par">But his mother, greedy and sad in mind would be making a
sorrowful journey that she might avenge the death of her son. She came
then to Hart, where the Ring-Danes were asleep in that great hall. Then
soon there came misfortune to the earls when the mother of Grendel
entered the chamber. Yet less was the terror, even by so much as the
craft of maidens, the war-terror of a wife,<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e831src" href="#xd21e831">29</a> is less than
that of men beweaponed—when the sword hard bound and forged by
the hammer, and stained with blood, cuts the boar on the helmet
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb87" href="#pb87">87</a>]</span>of the foe with its edge. Then in the hall, the
hard edge was drawn, the sword over the seats, and many a broad shield,
heaved up fast by the hand. And no one heeded the helmet nor the broad
shield when terror seized upon them. She was in great haste, she would
go thence her life to be saving when she was discovered. Quickly she
had seized one of the Athelings fast in her grip when forth she was
fleeing away to the fen-land. He was to Hrothgar the dearest of heroes,
in the number of his comrades by the two seas, a powerful
shield-warrior, whom she killed as he slumbered, a youth of renown.
Beowulf was not there. To another the place was assigned after the
treasure-gift had been bestowed on the famous Geat. Then a great tumult
was made in Hart, and with bloodshed she had seized the well-known hand
of Grendel her son. And care was renewed in all the dwellings. Nor was
that a good exchange that they on both sides should be buying with the
lives of their friends.</p>
<p class="par">Then was the wise King, the hoar <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb88" href="#pb88">88</a>]</span>battle-warrior, rough in his mood when he came to
know that the dearest of his chief thanes was dead and bereft of life.
And Beowulf quickly was fetched into the bower, he, the man all
victorious. And at the dawning went one of the earls, a noble champion,
he and his comrades, where the proud man was waiting, to see whether
the All-wielder will ever be causing a change after woe-spells. And the
battle-worthy man went along the floor with his band of followers (the
hall wood<a class="noteref" id="xd21e840src" href="#xd21e840">30</a> was resounding) so that he greeted the wise man
with words, the Lord of the Danes, and asked him if he had had a quiet
night in spite of the pressing call.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e844width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb89" href="#pb89">89</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s20" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XX</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-h.png" alt=''></span>Hrothgar
spake, he the Lord of the Danes: ‘Ask not after our luck, for
sorrow is renewed to the folk of the Danes. Aeschere is dead, the elder
brother of Yrmenlaf; he was my councillor and my rune-teller,<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e854src" href="#xd21e854">31</a>
my shoulder-companion when we in the battle protected our heads; when
troops were clashing and helmets were crashing. He was what an earl
ought to be, a very good Atheling. Such a man was Aeschere. And a
wandering slaughter-guest was his hand-slayer, in Hart. I know not
whither that dire woman exulting in carrion, and by her feeding made
famous, went on her journeys. She was wreaking vengeance for the feud
of thy making when thou killedst Grendel but yesternight, in a
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb90" href="#pb90">90</a>]</span>violent way, with hard grips, because all too long
he was lessening and destroying my people. He fell in the struggle,
gave his life as a forfeit; and now comes another, a mighty
man-scather, to avenge her son, and the feud hath renewed as may seem a
heavy heart-woe to many a thane who weeps in his mind over the
treasure-giver. Now lieth low the hand which availed you well, for
every kind of pleasure. I heard land-dwellers, and hall-counsellors,
and my people, say that they saw two such monstrous
March-steppers,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e859src" href="#xd21e859"
>32</a> alien-sprites, holding the moorland. And one
of them was in the likeness of a woman as far as they could tell; the
other, shapen wretchedly, trod the path of exiles in the form of a man,
except that he was greater than any other man, he whom in former days
the earth-dwellers called by name Grendel. They knew not his father,
whether any secret sprite was formerly born of him. They kept guard
over the hidden land, and the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb91" href=
"#pb91">91</a>]</span>wolf-slopes, the windy nesses, the
terrible fen-path where the mountain streams rush down under mists of
the nesses, the floods under the earth. And it is not farther hence
than the space of a mile where standeth the lake, over which are
hanging the frosted trees, their wood fast by the roots, and shadowing
the water. And there every night one may see dread wonders, fire on the
flood. And there liveth not a wise man of the children of men who
knoweth well the ground. Nevertheless the heath-stepper, the
strong-horned hart, when pressed by the hounds seeketh that woodland,
when put to flight from afar, ere on the hillside, hiding his head he
gives up his life.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e864src" href="#xd21e864"
>33</a></p>
<p class="par">‘Nor is that a canny place. For thence the surge
of waters riseth up wan to the welkin when stirred by the winds, the
loathsome weather, until the heaven darkens and skies weep. Now is good
counsel depending on thee alone. Thou knowest not the land, the
terrible <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb92" href="#pb92">92</a>]</span>places where thou couldest find the sinful man;
seek it if thou darest. I will reward thee for the feud with old world
treasures so I did before, with twisted gold, if thou comest thence, on
thy way.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e875width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s21" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-b.png" alt=''></span>Beowulf
spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Sorrow not, O wise man. It is better
for each one to avenge his friend, when he is much mourning. Each one
of us must wait for the end of his world-life. Let him work who may,
ere the doom of death come; that is afterwards best for the noble dead.
Arise, O ward of the kingdom. Let us go forth quickly to trace out the
going of Grendel’s kinswoman. I bid thee do it. For neither in
the bosom of the earth, nor in forests of the mountains, nor by the
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb93" href="#pb93">93</a>]</span>ways of the sea, go where she will, shall she
escape into safety. Do thou this day be patient in every kind of
trouble as I also hope to be.’ The old man leapt up and gave
thanks to God, the mighty Lord, for the words of Beowulf.</p>
<p class="par">Then was bridled a horse for Hrothgar, a steed with
twisted hair, and as a wise prince he went forth in splendid array. The
troop of shield-warriors marched along. And the traces were widely seen
in the forest-ways, the goings of Grendel’s mother over the
ground. Forwards she had gone over the mirky moorlands, and had borne
in her grasp, bereft of his soul, the best of the thanes who were wont
to keep watch over Hrothgar’s homestead. Then Beowulf, the
Atheling’s child, stepped o’er the steep and stony slopes
and the narrow pathways, and the straitened single tracks, an unknown
way, by the steep nesses, and by many a sea-monster’s cavern. And
one of the wise men went on before to seek out the path, until all at
once he found some mountain trees, overhanging the grey stones, a
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb94" href="#pb94">94</a>]</span>forest all joyless. And underneath was a water all
bloodstained and troubled. And a grievous thing it was for all the
Danes to endure, for the friends of the Scyldings,<a class="noteref"
id="xd21e891src" href="#xd21e891">34</a> and for
many a thane, and distressful to all the earls, when they came upon the
head of Aeschere on the cliffs above the sea. The flood boiled with
blood and with hot gore (the folk looked upon it). And at times the
horn sounded a battle-song ready prepared.</p>
<p class="par">All the troop sat down. And many kinds of serpents they
saw in the water, and wonderful dragons searching the sea, and on the
cliff-slopes, monsters of the ocean were lying at full length, who at
the morning tide often make a woful journey on the sail-path; and
snakes and wild beasts they could see also. And these living things
fell down on the path all bitter and angry when they perceived the
noise, and the blast of the war-horn. And the Prince of the Geats
killed one of them with his bow and arrows and ended his wave-strife,
and he was in the sea, slower at swimming <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb95" href="#pb95">95</a>]</span>as death swept him away.
And on the waves by fierce battle hard pressed, and with boar-spears
savagely barbed, the wondrous sea-monster was assailed in the struggle
and drawn up on the headland. And men were looking at the awful
stranger. And Beowulf put on him his armour, that was fitting for an
earl, and by no means did he lament over his life, for the hand-woven
coat of mail, which was ample and of many colours, was destined to
explore the deeps, and knew well how to defend his body, so that
neither battle-grip nor the hostile grasp of the treacherous one might
scathe breast or life; and the white helmet thereof warded his head,
that which was destined to search out the bottom of the sea and the
welter of waters, and which was adorned with treasures and encircled
with noble chains, wondrously decked and set round with boar-images, as
in days of yore a weapon-smith had made it for him, so that no brand
nor battle-sword could bite him. And by no means was that the least of
aids in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb96" href="#pb96">96</a>]</span>battle that the Spokesman of Hrothgar<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e900src" href="#xd21e900">35</a>
lent him at need, even the hilted sword which was called Hrunting. And
it was one of the ancient treasures. Its edge was of iron, and
poison-tipped, and hardened in battle-sweat. And never did it fail in
the fight any man who brandished it in his hands, or who dared to go on
fearful journeys, to the field of battle. And that was not the first
time that it was to do deeds of courage. And Unferth did not think, he
the kinsman of Ecglaf, crafty of strength, of what he formerly had
said<a class="noteref" id="xd21e903src" href="#xd21e903">36</a> when drunken with wine, he had lent that weapon to
a braver sword-warrior. He himself durst not risk his life in the
stress of the waters and do a glorious deed. And thereby he lost his
doom of famous deeds. But thus was it not with that other, for he had
got himself ready for the battle.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e910width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb97" href="#pb97">97</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s22" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-b.png" alt=''></span>Beowulf
spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘O kinsman of Healfdene,<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e920src" href="#xd21e920">37</a>
thou far-famed and proud prince, thou gold-friend of men, now that
eager I am for this forth-faring, bethink thee now of what we two were
speaking together, that if I should lose my life through helping thee
in thy need, thou wouldst be always to me in the place of a father
after my death. Be thou a guardian to my kinsmen, my thanes, and my
hand comrades, if battle should take me. And dear Hrothgar, send thou
the gifts, which thou didst give me, to Hygelac. And the Lord of the
Geats, the son of Hrethel, when he looks on the treasure and perceives
the gold, will see that I found a giver of rings, one good and
open-handed, and that while I could, <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb98" href="#pb98">98</a>]</span>I enjoyed the treasures.
And do thou let Unferth, the man who is far-famed, have the old
heirloom, the curiously wrought sword with its wave-like device, with
its hard edge. I work out my fate with Hrunting, or death shall seize
me.’</p>
<p class="par">After these words the Lord of the Weder-Geats
courageously hastened, and by no means would he wait for an answer. The
whelming sea received the battle-hero. And it was a day’s while
before he could see the bottom of the sea. And very soon the fierce and
eager one who had ruled the expanse of the floods for a hundred years,
she, the grim and greedy, saw that a man was searching out from above
the dwelling of strange monsters. Then she made a grab at him, and
closed on the warrior with dire embrace. But not at first did she
scathe his body, safe and sound. The ring surrounded it on the outside,
so that she could not pierce the coat of mail or the interlaced
war-shirt with loathsome finger. Then the sea-wolf, when she came to
the bottom of the sea, bore the Ring-Prince towards her house so that
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb99" href="#pb99">99</a>]</span>he might not, though he was so strong in soul,
wield any weapon; and many a wonder oppressed him in the depths, many a
sea-beast broke his war-shirt with his battle-tusks, and monsters
pursued him.</p>
<p class="par">Then the earl saw that he was in he knew not what hall
of strife, where no water scathed him a whit, nor could the sudden grip
of the flood touch him because of the roof-hall. He saw, too, a
firelight, a bright pale flame shining. Then the good man caught sight
of the she-wolf, that monstrous wife, down in the depths of the sea.
And he made a mighty rush with his sword. Nor did his hand fail to
swing it so that the ringed mail on her head sang a greedy death-song.
Then Beowulf the stranger discovered that the battle-blade would not
bite or scathe her life, but the edge failed the lord in his need. It
had suffered many hand-blows, and the helmet, the battle-dress of the
doomed one, it had often cut in two. That was the first time that his
dear sword-treasure failed him. Then he became resolute, <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb100" href="#pb100">100</a>]</span>and
not by any means did he fail in courage, that kinsman of Hygelac,
mindful of glory. And this angry warrior threw away the stout sword,
bound round with jewels with its wavy decorations, and with its edge of
steel, so that it lay prone on the ground; and henceforth he trusted in
his strength and the hand-grasp of might. So should a man be doing when
he thinketh to be gaining long-lasting praise in fighting, and careth
not for his life. Then the Lord of the Geats seized by the shoulder the
mother of Grendel (nor at all did he mourn over that feud), and he, the
hard in battle, threw down his deadly foe, when he was angry, so that
she lay prone on the floor. But she very quickly, with grimmest of
grips, requited him a hand-reward, and made a clutch at him. And the
weary in soul, that strongest of fighters, he the foot-warrior stumbled
and fell. Then she sat on that hall-guest, and drew forth her axe,
broad and brown-edged, and would fain be avenging the death of her
child, of her only son. But on his shoulder was the coat of mail all
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb101" href="#pb101">101</a>]</span>woven, which saved his life and prevented the
entrance of the point and the edge of the sword. And the son of
Ecgtheow, the Prince of Geats, would have surely gone a journey under
the wide earth unless that warlike coat of mail had given him help,
that hard war-net, and unless the Holy God He the cunning Lord, and the
Ruler in the heavens, had wielded the victory, and easily decided the
issue aright; then he straightway stood up.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e936width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s23" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then among
the weapons he caught sight of a sword, rich in victories, an old
weapon of the giants, and doughty of edge, the glory of warriors. It
was the choicest of weapons, and it was greater than any other man
could carry to the battle-playing, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb102"
href="#pb102">102</a>]</span>and all glorious and good, a
work of the giants. And he seized it by the belted hilt, he the warrior
of the Danes, rough and battle-grim, and he brandished the ring-sword;
and despairing of life, he angrily struck so that hardly he grasped at
her neck and broke the bone-rings. And the point pierced through the
doomed flesh-covering. And she fell on the floor. The sword was all
bloody, and the man rejoiced in his work. Shone forth the bright flame
and a light stood within, even as shineth the candle<a class="noteref"
id="xd21e947src" href="#xd21e947">38</a> from the
bright heavens. And then he looked on the hall, and turned to the wall.
And the thane of Hygelac, angry and resolute, heaved hard the weapon,
taking it by the hilt. And the edge was not worthless to the
battle-warrior, for he would be quickly requiting Grendel many a
war-rush which he had done upon the West Danes, many times oftener than
once when in sleeping he smote the hearth-comrade of Hrothgar, and fed
on them sleeping, of the Danish folk, some fifteen <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb103" href="#pb103">103</a>]</span>men,
and bore forth yet another one, that loathly prey. And well he requited
him, this furious champion, when he saw the war-weary Grendel lying in
death, all void of his life as formerly in Hart the battle had scathed
him. His body sprang apart when after his death he suffered a stroke, a
hard battle-swing; and then he struck off his head.</p>
<p class="par">Right soon the proud warriors, they who with Hrothgar,
looked forth on the sea, could easily see, that the surging water was
all stained with blood and the grey-haired ancients spoke together
about the good man, that they deemed not the Atheling would ever again
come seeking the famous Prince Hrothgar glorying in victory, for it
seemed unto many that the sea-wolf had destroyed him.</p>
<p class="par">Then came noonday. The valiant Danes left the headland,
and the gold-friend of men<a class="noteref" id="xd21e956src" href=
"#xd21e956">39</a> went homeward thence. And the
strangers of the Geats, sick in mind, sat and stared at the water. They
knew and expected not that they would <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb104" href="#pb104">104</a>]</span>see again their
liege-lord himself. Then the sword began to grow less, after the
battle-sweat, into icicles of steel. And a wonder it was that it all
began to melt likest to ice, when Our Father doth loosen the band of
frost and unwinds the icicles, He who hath power over the seasons, He
is the true God. Nor in these dwellings did the Lord of the Geats take
any other treasure, though much he saw there, except the head and the
hilt, decked out with jewels. The sword had melted, and the decorated
weapon was burnt up. The blood was too hot, and so poisonous the alien
sprite who died in that conflict. Soon Beowulf was swimming, he who
formerly awaited the onset of the hostile ones in the striving, and he
dived upwards through the water. And the weltering surge and the
spacious lands were all cleansed when the alien sprite gave up his life
and this fleeting existence.</p>
<p class="par">He the stout-hearted came swimming to shore, he the
Prince of the sea-men enjoying the sea-spoils, the great burden of that
which he had with him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb105" href=
"#pb105">105</a>]</span>They advanced towards him and gave
thanks to God, that glorious crowd of thanes, and rejoiced in their
lord that they could see him once more. Then was loosed quickly from
that valiant man both helmet and shield. The sea became turbid, the
water under welkin, all stained with blood. And rejoicing in spirit the
brave men went forth with foot-tracks and passed over the earth, the
well-known pathways. And a hard task it was for each one of those proud
men to bear that head away from the sea-cliff. Four of them with
difficulty on a pole were bearing the head of Grendel to the gold-hall,
until suddenly, valiant and battle-brave, they came to the palace,
fourteen of the Geats marching along with their liege-lord who trod the
field where the mead-hall stood. Then this Prince of the thanes, this
man so bold of deed and honoured by Fate, this battle-dear warrior went
into the hall to greet King Hrothgar. Then over the floor where
warriors were drinking they bore Grendel’s head, a terror to the
earls and also to the Queen. And men <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb106" href="#pb106">106</a>]</span>were looking at the
splendid sight of the treasures.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e968width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s24" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXIV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-b.png" alt=''></span>Beowulf
spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Lo, son of Healfdene, lord of the
Danes, we have brought thee this booty of the sea all joyfully, this
which thou seest as a token of glory. And I hardly escaped with my
life, and hazarded an arduous task of war under water. And nearly was
the battle ended for me, but that God shielded me. Nor could I in that
conflict do aught with Hrunting, though the weapon was doughty. But the
Ruler of men granted me to see hanging on the wall a beauteous sword
mighty and ancient (often He guides those who are bereft of their
comrades), and I drew the weapon. And I struck in that <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb107" href="#pb107">107</a>]</span>striving the guardian of the house when I saw my
chance. Then that battle-sword that was all decked out, burned up so
that blood gushed forth, the hottest of battle-sweat. But I bore off
that hilt thence from the enemy, and wrought vengeance for the crimes,
the deaths of the Danes, as it was fitting. And here I bid thee to take
thy rest all sorrowless in Hart, with the troop of thy men and each of
the thanes of thy people, the youth and the doughty ones. O Lord of the
Danes, no longer need’st thou fear for them, because of
earls’ life-bale as before thou didst.’ Then was the golden
hilt, the work of the giants, given into the hand of the old warrior,
the hoary battle-chief. This work of the wonder-smiths went into the
possession of the Lord of the Danes after the destruction of devils;
and when the man of the fierce heart, the adversary of God guilty of
murder, forsook this world, it passed to the best of world-kings by the
two seas, of these who in Sceden Isle dealt out treasures. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb108" href="#pb108">108</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">Hrothgar spake and looked upon the hilt, the old
heirloom on which was written the beginning of the ancient feud since
the flood, the all-embracing ocean slew the giant race, when they bore
themselves presumptuously. They were a folk strangers to the eternal
God, to whom the ruler gave their deserts through whelming of waters.
Thus was there truly marked on the sword guards of shining gold, by
means of rune-staves, set down and stated by whom that sword was
wrought at the first, that choicest of weapons, with its twisted hilt,
adorned with a dragon. Then spake the wise man the son of Healfdene,
and all kept silence: ‘He who doeth truth and right among the
folk, and he who can recall the far-off days, he the old protector of
his country may say that this earl was well born. Thy fair fame is
spread throughout the wide ways, among all peoples, O my friend
Beowulf. Thou dost hold all with patience, and might, with the proud of
mind. I will perform the compact as we two agreed. Thou shalt
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb109" href="#pb109">109</a>]</span>be a lasting aid to thy people, a help to the
heroes. Not so was Heremod<a class="noteref" id="xd21e984src" href=
"#xd21e984">40</a> to the sons of Egwela, the
honour-full Danish folk.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e987src" href=
"#xd21e987">41</a> For he did not become a joy to
them, but slaughter and death to the Danish people. But in a fury he
killed the table-companions his boon comrades; until he alone, the
famous chieftain, turned away from human joys. And though the mighty
God greatly exalted him by the joys of strength over all people and
rendered him help, yet a fierce hoard of hate grew up in his soul; no
rings did he give to the Danes, as the custom was; and joyless he
waited, so that he suffered troublesome striving and to his people a
long time was baleful. Do thou be learning by that example and seek out
manly virtues. I who am old in winters sing thee this song. And a
wonder is it to say how the mighty God giveth wisdom to mankind through
wideness of mind, lands, and earlship. He hath power over all.
Sometimes <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb110" href="#pb110">110</a>]</span>he letteth the thought of man of famous kith and
kin be turning to love, and giveth him earth-joys in his own country,
so that he holdeth the city of refuge among men, and giveth him to rule
over parts of the world, and very wide kingdoms, so that he himself
foolishly never thinketh of his end. He dwelleth in weal; and neither
disease nor old age doth deceive him a whit, nor doth hostile sorrow
darken his mind, nor anywhere do strife or sword-hate show themselves;
but all the world doth go as he willeth.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e993width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s25" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-h.png" alt=''></span>He
knoweth no evil until his share of pride wasteth and groweth, while
sleepeth the guardian, the ward of his soul. And the sleep is too deep,
bound up in afflictions, and the banesman draweth <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb111" href="#pb111">111</a>]</span>near
who shooteth cruelly his arrows from the bow. Then in his soul under
helmet is he stricken with bitter shaft. Nor can he save himself from
the crooked behests of the cursed ghost. And little doth he think of
that which long he hath ruled. And the enemy doth covet, nor at all
doth he give in boast the plated rings, and he then forgetteth and
despiseth his fate his share of honour which God before gave him, He
the Wielder of wonder. And in the end it doth happen that the body
sinks fleeting and doomed to death falleth. And another succeeds
thereto who joyfully distributeth gifts, the old treasure of the earl,
and careth not for terrors. Guard thee against malicious hate, O my
dear Beowulf, thou noblest of men, and choose for thyself that better
part, eternal wisdom. Have no care for pride, O glorious champion. Now
is the fame of thy strength proclaimed for a while. Soon will it be
that disease or sword-edge or grasp of fire or whelming of floods or
grip of sword or flight of arrow or dire old age <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb112" href="#pb112">112</a>]</span>will
sever thee from strength, or the lustre of thine eyes will fail or grow
dim. Then forthwith will happen that death will o’erpower thee, O
thou noble man. Thus have I for fifty years held sway over the
Ring-Danes under the welkin and made safe by war many a tribe
throughout the world with spears and swords, so that I recked not any
man my foeman under the sweep of heaven. Lo! then there came to me
change in my homeland, sorrow after gaming, when Grendel, that ancient
foe became my invader. And ever I bore much sorrow of mind through that
feud. And may God be thanked, the eternal lord, that I lingered in
life, till I looked with mine eyes on that head stained with
sword-blood after the old strife. Go now to thy seat and enjoy the
feasting, thou who art glorious in war. And when morning cometh there
shall be a host of treasures in common between us.’</p>
<p class="par">And the Geat was glad of mind, and soon he went up to
the high seat as the proud chief had bidden him. Then <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb113" href="#pb113">113</a>]</span>renewed was fair chanting as before
’mongst these brave ones who sat on the floor. And the helmet of
night grew dark over men. And the noble warriors arose. The venerable
king wished to go to his bed, the old prince of the Danes. And the
Geat, the shield-warrior, desired greatly to go to his rest. And
straightway a hall-thane guided the far-comer, weary of his journey, he
who so carefully attended to all his needs such as that day the
ocean-goers would fain be having. And the great-hearted one rested
himself. The House towered on high that was spacious and gold-decked.
The guest slept within until the black raven heralded the joy of
heaven.</p>
<p class="par">Then came the sun, hastening and shining over the earth.
Warriors were hurrying and Athelings were eager to go to their people.
The bold-hearted comer would visit the ship far away. He the hardy one
bade the son of Ecglaf carry forth Hrunting, and commanded him to take
his sword, that lovely piece of steel. And he gave <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb114" href="#pb114">114</a>]</span>thanks for the lending, and said he reckoned him
a good war-comrade and crafty in fighting. Not at all did he blame the
edge of the sword. He was a proud man. When ready for the journey were
all the warriors, then Beowulf the Atheling, of good worth to the
Danes, went up to the dais where was Hrothgar the faithful and bold,
and greeted him there.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1015width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s26" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXVI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-b.png" alt=''></span>Beowulf
spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Now we the sea-farers, that have
come from afar, desire to say that we are hastening back to Hygelac.
And here have we been nobly waited on, and well thou hast treated us.
And if I then on earth can gain a whit further greater heart-love
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb115" href="#pb115">115</a>]</span>from thee, O Lord of men, than I have gained
already, in doing war-deeds, thereto I’m right ready. And if I
shall hear o’er the sheet of waters that terrors are oppressing
those who sit round thee, as erewhile thine enemies were doing upon
thee, I will bring here a thousand thanes, heroes to help thee. And I
know that Hygelac, the Lord of the Geats, the guardian of my folk,
though young in years, will help me by word and works to bring to thee
honour and bear spear to thine aid, the help of strength, if thou hast
need of men. And if Hrethric<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1026src" href=
"#xd21e1026">42</a> the Prince’s child should
ever take service in the court of the Geat, he may find there many a
friend. It is better for him who is doughty himself to be seeking far
countries.’</p>
<p class="par">Hrothgar spake and gave him answer: ‘The
all-knowing Lord doth send thee words into thy mind. Never heard I a
man speak more wisely, so young in years, thou art strong of main and
proud of soul, and of words a wise sayer. I reckon that if it cometh to
pass that <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb116" href="#pb116">116</a>]</span>an arrow or fierce battle should take away the
children of Hrethel or disease or sword destroy thy sovereign, the
protector of the folk, and thou art still living, that the Sea-Geats
will not have to choose any better king, if thou wilt hold the kingdom
of the kinsmen. Thou hast brought about peace to the folk of the Geats
and the Spear-Danes, and a ceasing of the strife and of the enmity
which formerly they suffered. And whilst I am ruling the wide kingdom,
treasures shall be in common between us. And many a man shall greet
another with gifts over the sea.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1033src"
href="#xd21e1033">43</a> And the ring-necked ship
shall bear over the ocean both offerings and love-tokens. I know the
two peoples to be steadfast towards friend and foe, and blameless in
all things in the old wise.’</p>
<p class="par">Then in that hall the prince of the earls, the son of
Healfdene, gave him twelve treasures, and bade him be seeking his own
people in safety and with the offerings, and quickly to come back
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb117" href="#pb117">117</a>]</span>again. Then the King, the Prince of the Danes,
he of good lineage, kissed the best of thanes, and embraced his neck.
And tears were falling down the face of the old man. And the old and
wise man had hope of both things, but most of all of the other that
they might see each the other, those thoughtful men in council.</p>
<p class="par">For Beowulf was so dear to him that he could not
restrain the whelming in his bosom, but a secret longing fast in the
bonds of his soul was burning in his breast against his blood.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1042src" href="#xd21e1042">44</a> So Beowulf the warrior, proud of his golden
gifts, went forth o’er the grassy plain rejoicing in treasure.
And the sea-goer was awaiting her lord where she lay at anchor. And as
he was going he often thought on the gift of Hrothgar. He was a king,
blameless in every way, until old age, that scather of many, bereft him
of the joys of strength.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1046width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb118" href="#pb118">118</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s27" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXVII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-s.png" alt=''></span>So many a
proud young warrior came to the seaside. And they were carrying the
ring-net, the interlaced coats of mail. And the ward of the shore
noticed the going of the earls, as he did their coming.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1056src" href="#xd21e1056">45</a> Nor with evil intent did he hail the guests from
the edge of the cliff, but rode up to them, and said that welcome and
bright-coated warriors went to the ship to the people of the Geats.
Then on the sand was the spacious craft laden with battle-weeds, the
ringed prow with horses and treasures, and the mast towered high over
Hrothgar’s gifts. And he gave to the captain a sword bound with
gold, so that by the mead-bench he was by that the worthier because of
the treasure and the heirloom. Then he went on board, <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb119" href="#pb119">119</a>]</span>the
deep water to be troubling, and finally left the land of the Danes. And
by the mast was one of the ocean-garments, a sail fast by a rope. The
sea-wood thundered. Nor did the wind hinder the journey of that ship.
The ocean-goer bounded forth, the foamy-necked one, over the waves, the
bound prow over the ocean streams, till they could see the cliffs of
the Geats’ land, the well-known headlands.</p>
<p class="par">Then the keel thronged up the shore, driven by the wind,
and stood fast in the sand. And the harbour-master was soon on the
seashore, who of yore eagerly had seen from afar the going forth of the
dear men. And he made fast the wide-bosomed ship, by the anchor chains,
so that the less the force of the waves could tear away that winsome
ship. He commanded the treasure of the nobles to be borne up the beach,
the fretted armour and the plated gold. And not far thence it was for
them to be seeking the giver of treasure, Hygelac, Hrethel’s son,
for at home he dwelleth, he and his companions <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb120" href="#pb120">120</a>]</span>near
to the sea-wall. And splendid was that building, and the Prince was a
bold King, and the halls were high, and Hygd his wife was very young
and wise and mature in her figure, though the daughter of Hæreth
had bided in that city but a very few years. But she was not mean nor
niggardly of gifts and of treasures to the people of the Geats.</p>
<p class="par">But Thrytho<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1070src" href=
"#xd21e1070">46</a> was fierce, for she had
committed a terrible crime, that bold Queen of the folk. There was none
that durst risk that dire thing of the dear companions, save only her
lord, that he should stare on her with his eyes by day; but if he did
he might expect that death-bands were destined for himself, for after
the hand-grip a weapon was quickly prepared, that the sword that was
curiously inlaid should bring to light and make known the death-bale.
Nor is it a queenly custom for <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb121"
href="#pb121">121</a>]</span>a woman to perform, though
she might be peerless, that she should assail the life of a
peace-wearer, of her dear lord, after a pretended insult. At least King
Offa, the kinsman of Hemming, checked her in that. But otherwise said
the ale-drinkers, namely that she did less of bale to her people and of
hostile acts, since the time when she was first given all decked with
gold to the young champion,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1075src" href=
"#xd21e1075">47</a> to her dear lord, since she
sought the Hall of Offa over the fallow flood by the guidance of her
father, where on the throne whilst she lived she well did enjoy her
fate, that woman famous for good works. And she kept great love for the
prince of heroes, and of all mankind he was, as I have learned by
asking, the greatest by two seas. For Offa was a spear-keen man in
gifts and in warfare, and widely was he honoured. And he ruled his
people wisely. And to him and Thrytho Eomær was born to the help
of heroes, he the kinsman of Hemming, the nephew of Garmund, was crafty
in battle.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1079width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb122" href="#pb122">122</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s28" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXVIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then the
hardy one himself, with his troop set forth to tread the seashore,
going along the sands, the wide sea-beaches. The candle of the world
shone, the sun that was shining from the South. And joyfully they
journeyed, and with courage they marched along, to where they heard by
inquiring, that the good Prince of earls, the banesman of
Ongentheow<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1089src" href="#xd21e1089">48</a> the young war-king, was giving out rings within
the city. And quickly was made known to Hygelac the coming of Beowulf,
that he the Prince of warriors, the comrade in arms, was returning
alive and hale from the battle-play, was coming to the palace. And
straightway <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb123" href="#pb123">123</a>]</span>was there room made for the foot-guests on the
floor of the hall by command of the King. And he that had escaped
scot-free from the contest sat with the King, kinsman with kinsman, and
the lord with courteous speech saluted the brave man with high-swelling
words. And the daughter of Hæreth<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1100src" href="#xd21e1100">49</a> poured
forth from the mead-cups throughout that great hall, for she loved well
the people, and carried round the drinking-stoups to each of the
warriors. And Hygelac began to question his comrade as curiosity
prompted him as to the journey of the Sea-Geats. ‘How went it
with thee, dear Beowulf, in thy faring, when thou didst bethink thee
suddenly to be seeking a contest o’er the salt waters, in battle
at Hart? And thou didst requite the widely known woe which Hrothgar was
suffering, that famous lord. And I brooded o’er that mind-care
with sorrow-whelmings, for I trusted not in the journey of the dear
man. And for a long time I bade thee not a whit to be greeting the
murderous <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb124" href="#pb124">124</a>]</span>stranger, but to let the South Danes themselves
wage war against Grendel. And I now give God thanks that I see thee
safe and sound.’</p>
<p class="par">Beowulf answered, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘O Lord
Hygelac, it is well known to many a man, our famous meeting, and the
battle we fought, Grendel and I, on the wide plain, when he was working
great sorrow to the Danes and misery for ever. All that I avenged, so
that no kinsman of Grendel anywhere on earth needed to boast of that
uproar by twilight, no not he of that kindred who liveth the longest,
encircled by the fen. And first, to greet Hrothgar, I went to the
Ring-hall. And straightway the famous kinsman of Healfdene, when he
knew my intention, gave me a place with his own son; and the troop was
all joyful. Nor ever have I seen greater joy amongst any hall-dwellers
under the arch of heaven. Sometimes the famous Queen,<a class="noteref"
id="xd21e1107src" href="#xd21e1107">50</a> the
peace-bringer of the folk, walked over the whole floor and encouraged
the young <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb125" href="#pb125">125</a>]</span>sons. And often she gave to the man a twisted
ring ere she went to the high seat. And sometimes for the noble band
the daughter of Hrothgar carried the ale-cups to the earls at the end
of the high table. And I heard those who sat in that hall calling her
Freawaru as she gave the studded treasure to the heroes. And she, young
and gold-decked, is betrothed to the glad son of Froda.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1112src" href="#xd21e1112">51</a> The friend of the Danes and the guardian of the
kingdom has brought this to pass, and taken that counsel, so as to set
at rest by that betrothal many a slaughter-feud and ancient strife. And
often it happens that a little while after the fall of a people, the
deadly spear seldom lieth at rest though the bride be doughty. And this
may displease the lord of the Heathobards and all of his thanes of the
people, when he with his bride walketh over the floor, that his doughty
warriors should attend on a noble scion of the Danes, and the heirloom
of the ancients should glisten on him, all hard, and the ring-sword,
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb126" href="#pb126">126</a>]</span>the treasure of the Heathobards, whilst they
might be wielding weapons.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1117src" href=
"#xd21e1117">52</a></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1127width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s29" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXIX<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1134src" href=
"#xd21e1134">53</a></h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Till
the day on which they risked their own and their comrades’ lives
in the battle. Then said an old spear-warrior who remembered all that
had happened, the death of men by spears (his mind was grim), and he
began with sorrowful mind to seek out the thought of the young champion
by broodings of the heart, and to awaken the war-bales, and this is
what he said: “Canst thou recognize, <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb127" href="#pb127">127</a>]</span>my
friend, the dire sword which thy father carried to the battle, under
the visored helm, on that last journey, when the Danes slew him and had
the battle-field in their power, when Withergyld<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1140src" href="#xd21e1140">54</a> lay dead
after the fall of the heroes? Now here the son of I know not which of
the slayers, all boasting of treasures, goeth into the hall and
boasteth of murder and carrieth the gift which thou shouldst rightly
possess.” Then he exhorteth and bringeth to mind each of the
occasions with sorrowful words, until the time cometh that the thane of
the bride dieth all stained with blood for the deeds of his father by
the piercing of the sword, having forfeited his life. But the other
thence escapeth alive, for he knows the land well. Then the
oath-swearing of earls is broken on both sides when deadly enmities
surge up against Ingeld, and his love for his wife grows cooler after
whelming care. And for this reason I reckon not sincere the
friendliness of the Heathobards towards the Danes or <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb128" href="#pb128">128</a>]</span>the
troop-peace between them, the plighted troth.</p>
<p class="par">‘Now I speak out again about Grendel, for that
thou knowest full well, O giver of treasure, how went that hand-to-hand
fight of the heroes. When the jewel of heaven glided over the world,
then the angry sprite, the terrible and evening-fierce foe, came to
visit us where we were dwelling in the hall all safe and sound. There
was battle impending to Hondscio, the life-bale to the doomed one. And
he first fell, the champion begirt. For Grendel was to the famous thane
a banesman by biting, and devoured whole the dear man. Nor would he,
the bloody-toothed slayer, mindful of bales, go out empty-handed any
sooner again, forth from the gold-hall; but he proved my strength of
main, and ready-handed he grasped at me. An ample and wondrous glove
hung fast by cunning bands. And it was cunningly fashioned by the craft
of devils, and with skins of the dragon. And the fierce doer of deeds
was wishful to put me therein, one among many. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb129" href="#pb129">129</a>]</span>But
he could not do so, for I angrily stood upright. And too long would it
be to tell how I requited all evil to that scather of the people, where
I, O my liege-lord, honoured thy people by means of good deeds. He
escaped on the way, and for a little while he enjoyed life-pleasures.
But his right hand showed his tracks in Hart, and he sank to the bottom
of the sea, all abject and sad of heart. And the lord of the Danes
rewarded me for that battle-rush with many a piece of plated gold, and
with ample treasure, when morning came and we had set ourselves down to
the feasting. And there was singing and rejoicing. And the wise man of
the Danes, who had learned many things, told us of olden days. And the
bold in battle sometimes touched the harp-strings, the wood that was
full of music, and sometimes he gave forth a song that was true and
sad—and sometimes, large-hearted, the King related a wondrous
spell well and truly.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1149src" href=
"#xd21e1149">55</a> And sometimes <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb130" href="#pb130">130</a>]</span>the
old man encumbered by years, some ancient warrior, lamented his lost
youth and strength in battle. His heart was tumultuous when he, of many
winters, recalled all the number of them. So we rejoiced the livelong
day until another night came down upon men. Then was the mother of
Grendel quickly ready for vengeance, and came on a woful journey, for
Death had carried off her son, that war-hate of the Geats. And the
uncanny wife avenged her child. And Aeschere, that wise and ancient
councillor, departed this life. Nor when morning came might the Danish
people burn him with brand, that death-weary man, nor lay the beloved
man on the funeral pyre. For she bore away the body in her fiendish
grip under the mountain-streams. And that was to Hrothgar the bitterest
of griefs which for long had befallen the Prince of the people. Then
the Prince, sad in mood, by thy life entreated me that I should do a
deed, worthy of an earl, midst welter of waters, and risk my life and
achieve glory. And he promised me <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb131"
href="#pb131">131</a>]</span>rewards. I then discovered
the grim and terrible guardian of the whelming waters, at the
sea’s bottom, so widely talked of. There was a hand-to-hand
engagement between us for a while, and the sea boiled with gore; I cut
off the head of Grendel’s mother in the hall at the bottom of the
sea, with powerful sword. And I scarce saved my life in that conflict.
But not yet was my doomsday. And afterwards the Prince of earls gave me
many gifts, he the son of Healfdene.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1157width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s31" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-s.png" alt=''></span>So in
good customs lived the King of the people. Nor had I lost the rewards,
the meed of strength, for the son of Healfdene bestowed upon me
treasures according to my choice, which I will bring to thee, O my
warrior-King, and graciously <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb132" href=
"#pb132">132</a>]</span>will I proffer them. Again all
favour depends on thee, for few chief kinsmen have I save thee, O
Hygelac.’ He commanded them to bring in the boar, the head-sign,
the battle-steep helmet, the hoary byrny, the splendid war-sword, and
then he chanted this song: ‘It was Hrothgar, that proud prince,
who bestowed upon me all this battle-gear. And a certain word he
uttered to me, that I should first give thee his kindly
greeting.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1168src" href="#xd21e1168">56</a> He said that Hrothgar the King of the Danes
possessed it a long while. Nor formerly would he be giving the
breast-weeds to his son the brave Heoroward, though dear he was to him.
Do thou enjoy all well.’</p>
<p class="par">Then I heard that four horses, of reddish yellow hue,
followed the armour. And thus he did him honour with horses and gifts.
So should a kinsman do. By no means should they weave cunning nets for
each other, or with secret craft devise death to a comrade. His nephew
was very gracious to Hygelac, the brave in strife, and each was
striving <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb133" href="#pb133">133</a>]</span>to bestow favours on the other. And I heard that
he gave to Hygd the neck-ring so curiously and wondrously wrought,
which Wealtheow a daughter of royal birth had given him, and three
horses also slender and saddle-bright. And her breast was adorned with
the ring she had received.</p>
<p class="par">And Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, so famous in warfare and
in good deeds, bore himself boldly and fulfilled his fate, nor did he
slay the drunken hearth-comrades. He was not sad-minded, but he, the
battle-dear one, by the greatest of craft known to man held fast the
lasting and generous gift which God gave him. For long had he been
despised, so that the warriors of the Geats looked not upon him as a
good man, nor did the lord of troops esteem him as of much worth on the
mead-bench. Besides, they thought him slack and by no means a warlike
Atheling. Then came a change from all his distresses to this glorious
man. Then the Prince of Earls, the battle-brave King, commanded that
the heirloom of Hrethel <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb134" href=
"#pb134">134</a>]</span>all decked out in gold should be
brought in. For of swords there was no more glorious treasure among the
Geats. And he laid it on the bosom of Beowulf, and gave him seven
thousand men and a building and a throne. And both of them held the
land, the earth, the rights in the land as an hereditary possession;
but the other who was the better man had more especially a wide
kingdom.</p>
<p class="par">And in after-days it happened that there were
battle-crashings, and Hygelac lay dead,<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1181src" href="#xd21e1181">57</a> and swords
under shields became a death-bane to Heardred,<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1187src" href="#xd21e1187">58</a> when the
brave battle-wolves, the Swedes, sought him out among the victorious
ones and assailed with strife the nephew of Hereric, and it was then
that the broad kingdom came into the possession of Beowulf. And he held
sway therein fifty winters (and a wise King was he, that old guardian
of his country) until on dark nights a dragon <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb135" href="#pb135">135</a>]</span>began to make raids, he that watched over the
hoard in the lofty cavern, the steep rocky cave. And the path thereto
lay under the cliffs unknown to men. And what man it was who went
therein I know not, but he took from the heathen hoard a hall-bowl
decked with treasure. Nor did he give it back again, though he had
beguiled the guardian of the hoard when he was sleeping, by the craft
of a thief. And Beowulf found out that the dragon was angry.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1195src" href="#xd21e1195">59</a></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1202width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s32" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-a.png" alt=''></span>And it was by
no means of his own accord or self-will that he sought out the craft of
the hoard of the dragon who inflicted such evil upon himself, but
rather because being compelled by miseries, the <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb136" href="#pb136">136</a>]</span>slave fled the hateful blows of heroes, he that
was shelterless and the man troubled by guilt penetrated therein. And
soon it came to pass that an awful terror arose upon the
guest.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1213src" href="#xd21e1213">60</a>... And in the earth-house were all kinds of
ancient treasures, such as I know not what man of great thoughts had
hidden there in days of old, the immense heirlooms of some noble race,
costly treasures. And in former times death had taken them all away,
and he alone of the warriors of the people who longest lingered there,
full lonely and sad for loss of friends was he, and he hoped for a
tarrying, that he but for a little while might enjoy the ancient
treasures. And this hill was quite near to the ocean-waves, and to the
sea-nesses, and no one could come near thereto.</p>
<p class="par">And he the guardian of rings carried inside the cave the
heavy treasures of plated gold, and uttered some few words: ‘Do
thou, O earth, hold fast the treasures of earls which heroes may not
hold. What! From thee in days of <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb137"
href="#pb137">137</a>]</span>yore good men obtained it.
Deadly warfare and terrible life-bale carried away all the men of my
people of those who gave up life. They had seen hall-joy. And they saw
the joys of heaven. I have not any one who can carry a sword or polish
the gold-plated cup, the dear drinking-flagon. The doughty ones have
hastened elsewhere. The hard helmet dight with gold shall be deprived
of gold plate. The polishers sleep the sleep of death who should make
ready the battle grim, likewise the coat of mail which endured in the
battle was shattered over shields by the bite of the iron spears and
perishes after the death of the warrior. Nor can the ringed byrny go
far and wide on behalf of heroes, after the passing of the
war-chief.</p>
<p class="par">‘No joy of harping is there, nor mirth of stringed
instruments, nor does the goodly hawk swing through the hall, nor doth
the swift horse paw in the courtyard. And death-bale hath sent away
many generations of men.’ Thus then, sad at heart he lamented his
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb138" href="#pb138">138</a>]</span>sorrowful plight, one for many, and unblithely
he wept both day and night until the whelming waters of death touched
his heart. And the ancient twilight scather found the joyous treasure
standing open and unprotected, he it was who flaming seeks the
cliff-sides, he, the naked and hateful dragon who flieth by night wrapt
about with fire. And the dwellers upon earth greatly fear him. And he
should be seeking the hoard upon earth where old in winters he guardeth
the heathen gold. Nor aught is he the better thereby.</p>
<p class="par">And thus the scather of the people, the mighty monster,
had in his power the hall of the hoard three hundred years upon the
earth until a man in anger kindled his fury. For he carried off to his
liege-lord the plated drinking-flagon and offered his master a treaty
of peace. Thus was the hoard discovered, the hoard of rings plundered.
And a boon was granted to the miserable man. And the Lord saw for the
first time this ancient work of men. Then awoke the dragon, and the
strife was <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb139" href="#pb139">139</a>]</span>renewed. He sniffed at the stone, and the
stout-hearted saw the foot-mark of his foe. He had stepped too far
forth with cunning craft near the head of the dragon. So may any one
who is undoomed easily escape woes and exile who rejoices in the favour
of the Wielder of the world. The guardian of the hoard, along the
ground, was eagerly seeking, and the man would be finding who had
deprived him of his treasure while he was sleeping. Hotly and fiercely
he went around all on the outside of the barrow—but no man was
there in the waste. Still he gloried in the strife and the battle
working. Sometimes he returned to the cavern and sought the treasure
vessels. And soon he found that one of the men had searched out the
gold, the high heap of treasures. The guardian of the hoard was
sorrowfully waiting until evening should come. And very furious was the
keeper of that barrow, and the loathsome one would fain be requiting
the robbery of that dear drinking-stoup with fire and flame. Then, as
the dragon <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb140" href="#pb140">140</a>]</span>wished, day was departing. Not any longer would
he wait within walls, but went forth girt with baleful fire. And
terrible was this beginning to the people in that country, and
sorrowful would be the ending to their Lord, the giver of treasure.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1231width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s33" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then the
Fiend began to belch forth fire, and to burn up the glorious palace.
And the flames thereof were a horror to men. Nor would the loathly
air-flier leave aught living thereabouts. And this warfare of the
dragon was seen far and wide by men, this striving of the foe who
caused dire distress, and how the war-scather hated and harmed the
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb141" href="#pb141">141</a>]</span>people of the Geats. And he hurried back to his
hoard and the dark cave-hall of which he was lord, ere it was day-dawn.
He had encircled the dwellers in that land with fire and brand. He
trusted in his cavern, and in battle and his cliff-wall. But his hope
deceived him. Then was the terror made known to Beowulf, quickly and
soothly, namely that his very homestead, that best of houses, that
throne of the Geats, was dissolving in the whelming fire. And full
rueful was it to the good man, and the very greatest of sorrows.</p>
<p class="par">And the wise man was thinking that he had bitterly
angered the Wielder of all things, the eternal God, in the matter of
some ancient customs.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1245src" href=
"#xd21e1245">61</a> And within his breast gloomy
brooding was welling, as was by no means his wont. The fiery dragon had
destroyed by flame the stronghold of the people, both the sea-board and
neighbouring land. And therefore the King of the Weder-Geats devised
revenge upon him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb142" href="#pb142"
>142</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">Now Beowulf the Prince of earls and protector of
warriors commanded them to fashion him a glorious war-shield all made
of iron. For he well knew that a wooden shield would be unavailing
against flames. For he, the age-long noble Atheling, must await the end
of days that were fleeting of this world-life, he and the dragon
together, though long he had held sway over the hoard of treasure. And
the Prince of rings scorned to employ a troop against the wide-flying
monster in the great warfare. Nor did he dread the striving, nor did he
think much of this battle with the dragon, of his might and courage,
for that formerly in close conflict had he escaped many a time from the
crashings of battle since he, the victorious sword-man, cleansed the
great hall in Hart, of Hrothgar his kinsman, and had grappled in the
contest with the mother of Grendel, of the loathly kin.</p>
<p class="par">Nor was that the least hand-to-hand fight, when Hygelac
was slain there in the Frisian land when the King of the Geats, the
friendly lord of the folk, the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb143"
href="#pb143">143</a>]</span>son of Hrethel, died in the
battle-rush beaten down by the sword, drunk with blood-drinking. Then
fled Beowulf by his very own craft and swam through the seas.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1255src" href="#xd21e1255">62</a> And he had on his arm alone thirty
battle-trappings when he went down to the sea. Nor did the Hetware need
to be boasting, of that battle on foot, they who bore their linden
shields against him. And few of them ever reached their homes safe from
that wolf of the battle.</p>
<p class="par">But Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, swam o’er the
expanse of waters, miserable and solitary, back to his people, where
Hygd proffered him treasures and a kingdom, rings and dominion. She did
not think that her son Heardred would know how to hold their native
seats against strangers, now that Hygelac was dead. Nor could the
wretched people prevail upon the Atheling (Beowulf) in any wise to show
himself lord of Heardred or to be choosing the kingship. Nevertheless
he gave friendly <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb144" href="#pb144"
>144</a>]</span>counsel to the folk with grace and honour
until that he (Heardred) was older and held sway over the
Weder-Geats.</p>
<p class="par">Then those exiles the sons of Ohthere sought him over
the seas; they had rebelled against the Lord of the Swedes, the best of
the sea-kings, that famous chieftain of those who bestowed rings in
Sweden. And that was life’s limit to him. For the son of Hygelac,
famishing there, was allotted a deadly wound by the swing of a sword.
And the son of Ongentheow went away thence to visit his homestead when
Heardred lay dead, and left Beowulf to sit on the throne and to rule
the Goths. And he was a good King.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1267src"
href="#xd21e1267">63</a></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1274width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb145" href="#pb145">145</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s34" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXIV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-h.png" alt=''></span>He was minded
in after-days to be requiting the fall of the prince. He was a friend
to the wretched Eadgils, and helped Eadgils the son of Ohthere with an
army with warriors and with weapons, over the wide seas. And then he
wrought vengeance with cold and painful journeyings and deprived the
king (Onela) of life.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1284src" href=
"#xd21e1284">64</a> Thus the son of Ecgtheow had
escaped all the malice and the hurtful contests and the courageous
encounters, until the day on which he was to wage war with the dragon.
And so it came to pass that the Lord of the Geats went forth with
twelve others and inflamed with fury, to spy out the dragon. For he had
heard tell of the malice and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb146" href=
"#pb146">146</a>]</span>hatred he had shown to men, whence
arose that feud.</p>
<p class="par">And by the hand of the informer,<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1294src" href="#xd21e1294">65</a> famous
treasure came into their possession; he was the thirteenth man in the
troop who set on foot the beginning of the conflict. And the sorrowful
captive must show the way thither. He against his will went to the
earth-hall, for he alone knew the barrow under the ground near to the
sea-surge, where it was seething, the cavern that was full of ornaments
and filagree. And the uncanny guardian thereof, the panting war-wolf,
held possession of the treasures, and an ancient was he under the
earth. And it was no easy bargain to be gaining for any living man.</p>
<p class="par">So the battle-hardened King sat down on the cliff, and
took leave of his hearth-comrades, he the gold-friend of the Geats. And
his heart was sad, wavering, and ready for death, and Weird came very
near to him who would be greeting the venerable warrior and be seeking
his soul-treasure, to divide <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb147" href=
"#pb147">147</a>]</span>asunder his life from his body.
And not long after that was the soul of the Atheling imprisoned in the
flesh. Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Many a war-rush I
escaped from in my youth, in times of conflict. And well I call it all
to mind. I was seven years old when the Lord of Treasures, the friendly
lord of the folk, took me away from my father—and King Hrethel
had me in thrall, and gave me treasure and feasted me and kept the
peace. Nor was I a whit less dear a child to him than any of his own
kin, Herebald and Hæthcyn or my own dear Hygelac. And for the
eldest was a murder-bed most unhappily made up by the deeds of a
kinsman,<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1301src" href="#xd21e1301">66</a> when Hæthcyn his lordly friend brought him
low with an arrow from out of his horn-bow, and missing the mark he
shot through his brother with a bloody javelin. And that was a fight
not to be atoned for by gifts of money; and a crime it was, and
wearying to the soul in his breast. Nevertheless the Atheling must
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb148" href="#pb148">148</a>]</span>unavenged be losing his life. For so is it a
sorrowful thing for a venerable man to see his son riding the
gallows-tree when he singeth a dirge a sorrowful song, as his son
hangeth, a joy to the ravens. And he, very old, may not give him any
help. And every morning at the feasting he is reminded of his
son’s journey else-whither. And he careth not to await another
heir within the cities, when he alone through the fatality of death
hath found out the deeds.</p>
<p class="par">‘Heartbroken he looks on the bower of his son, on
the wasted wine-hall, become the hiding-place for the winds and bereft
of the revels. The riders are sleeping, the heroes in the tomb. Nor is
any sound of harping, or games in the courts as erewhile there
were.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1312width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb149" href="#pb149">149</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s35" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXV</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then
he goeth to the sleeping-place and chanteth a sorrow-song, the one for
the other. And all too spacious seemed to him the fields and the
dwelling-house. So the Prince of the Geats bore welling heart-sorrow
after Herebald’s death, nor a whit could he requite the feud on
the murderer, nor visit his hate on that warrior with loathly deeds,
though by no means was he dear to him. He then forsook the joys of life
because of that sorrow-wound which befell him, and chose the light of
God, and left to his sons land and towns when he departed this life as
a rich man doth. Then was there strife and struggle between the Swedes
and the Geats, and over the wide seas there was warfare between them, a
hardy battle-striving when Hrethel met with his death. And the
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb150" href="#pb150">150</a>]</span>children of Ongentheow were brave and
battle-fierce, and would not keep the peace on the high seas, but round
about Hreosnaborg they often worked terrible and dire distress. And my
kinsmen wrought vengeance for that feud and crime as all men know,
though the other bought his life with a hard bargain. And war was
threatening Hæthcyn the lord of the Geats. Then I heard tell that
on the morrow one brother the other avenged on the slayer with the edge
of the sword, whereas Ongentheow<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1324src"
href="#xd21e1324">67</a> seeketh out Eofor. The
war-helmet was shattered, and the Ancient of the Swedes fell prone, all
sword-pale. And well enough the hand kept in mind the feud and withheld
not the deadly blow. And I yielded him back in the warfare the
treasures he gave me with the flashing sword, as was granted to me. And
he gave me land and a dwelling and a pleasant country. And he had no
need to seek among the Gifthas or the Spear-Danes or in Sweden a worse
war-wolf, or to buy one that was worthy. <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb151" href="#pb151">151</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">‘And I would always be before him in the troop,
alone in the front of the battle, and so for ever will I be striving,
whilst this sword endureth, that earlier and later has often stood me
in good stead, since the days when for doughtiness I was a hand-slayer
to Day Raven the champion of the Hugs. Nor was he fated to bring
ornaments or breast-trappings to the Frisian King, but he the guardian
of the standard, he the Atheling, fell on the battle-field, all too
quickly. Nor was the sword-edge his bane, but the battle-grip broke the
whelmings of his heart and the bones of his body. Now shall my
sword-edge, my hand and hard weapon, be fighting for the
hoard.’</p>
<p class="par">Beowulf moreover now for the last time spake these
boastful words: ‘In many a war I risked my life in the days of my
youth, yet still will I seek a feud, I the old guardian of the people
will work a glorious deed if the wicked scather cometh out from his
earth-palace to seek me.’</p>
<p class="par">Then he saluted for the last time each of the warriors,
the brave wearers <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb152" href="#pb152"
>152</a>]</span>of helmets, the dear companions. ‘I
would not carry a sword or weapon against the dragon if I knew how else
I might maintain my boast against the monster, as I formerly did
against Grendel. But in this conflict I expect the hot battle-fire,
both breath and poison. Therefore I have both shield and byrny. I will
not flee from the warder of the barrow a foot’s-space, but it
shall be with me at the wall of the barrow as Weird shall direct, who
created all men. I am strong in soul so that I will refrain from
boasting against the war-flier. Await ye on the barrow guarded by
byrnies, O ye warriors in armour, and see which of us two will better
survive his wounds after the battle-rush. This is no journey for you
nor fitting for any man save only for me, that he should share a
conflict with the monster and do deeds worthy of an earl. I will gain
possession of the gold by my courage, or battle and deadly evil shall
take away your lord.’</p>
<p class="par">Then the strong warrior, hard under <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb153" href="#pb153">153</a>]</span>helm, arose beside his shield and carried his
shirt of mail under the rocky cliffs and trusted in the strength of
himself alone. Nor was that a coward’s journey. Then Beowulf,
possessed of manly virtues, who had escaped in many a conflict and
crashing of battle when men encountered on foot, saw standing by the
wall of the barrow an arch of rock, and a stream broke out thence from
the barrow, and the whelming of that river was hot with battle-fires.
Nor could he survive any while near to the hoard unburnt because of the
flame of the dragon. Then in a fury the Prince of the Weder-Geats let a
torrent of words escape from his breast and the stout-hearted one
stormed. And his war-clear voice resounded under the hoar cliffs. And
hatred was stirred, for the guardian of the hoard recognized well the
voice of Beowulf. And that was no time to be seeking friendship. And
the breath of the monster, the hot battle-sweat, came forth from the
rock at the first and the earth resounded. The warrior, the Lord
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb154" href="#pb154">154</a>]</span>of the Geats, raised his shield under the barrow
against the terrible sprite. Now the heart of the dragon was stirred up
to seek the conflict. The good war-king had formerly drawn his sword,
the ancient heirloom, not slow of edge. And each of them who intended
evil was a terror the one to the other. And the stern-minded one, he
the Prince of friendly rulers, stood by his steep shield, and he and
the dragon fell quickly together. Beowulf waited warily all in his
war-gear. Then the flaming monster bent as he charged, hastening to his
doom. The shield well protected life and body of the famous warrior for
a lesser while than he had willed it if he was to be wielding victory
in that contest on the first day; but Weird had not so fated it. And
the Lord of the Geats uplifted his hand, and struck at the horribly
bright one heavy with heirlooms, so that the edge stained with blood
gave way on the bone and bit in less strongly than its master had need
of when pressed by the business. Then after the battle-swing the
guardian <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb155" href="#pb155">155</a>]</span>of the barrow was rough-minded and cast forth
slaughter-fire. Battle-flames flashed far and wide. And the son of the
Geats could not boast of victory in the conflict. The sword had failed
him, naked in the battle, as was unfitting for so well tempered a
steel. And it was not easy for the famous son of Ecgtheow to give up
possession of the bottom of the sea, and that he should against his
will dwell in some place far otherwhere, as must each man let go these
fleeting days sooner or later. And not long after this Beowulf and the
monster met together again. The guardian of the hoard took good heart,
and smoke was fuming in his breast. And fierce were his sufferings as
the flames embraced him, he who before had ruled over the folk. Nor at
all in a troop did his hand-comrades stand round him, that warrior of
Athelings, showing courage in the battle, but they fled into a wood
their lives to be saving. And the mind of one of them was surging with
sorrows, for to him whose thoughts are pure, friendship cannot ever
change.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1351width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb156" href="#pb156">156</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s36" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXVI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-w.png" alt=''></span>Wiglaf was
he called, he who was the son of Weohstan, the beloved shield-warrior,
the Prince of the Danes and the kinsman of Aelfhere. He saw his lord
suffering burning pain under his visor. Then he called to mind the
favour that he (Beowulf) had bestowed upon him in days of yore, the
costly dwelling of the Waegmundings<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1361src"
href="#xd21e1361">68</a> and all the folk-rights
which his father had possessed. Then he could not restrain himself, but
gripped the shield with his hand, the yellow wood, and drew forth the
old sword which was known among men as the heirloom of Eanmund, the son
of Ohthere, and in the striving Weohstan was banesman by the edge of
the sword to that friendless exile and bore away <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb157" href="#pb157">157</a>]</span>to
his kinsman the brown-hued helmet, the ringed byrny, and the old
giant’s sword that Onela<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1366src"
href="#xd21e1366">69</a> had given him, the
war-weeds of his comrade, and the well-wrought armour for fighting. Nor
did he speak of the feud, though he slew his brother’s son. And
he held possession of the treasures many years, both the sword and the
byrny, until such time as his son should hold the earlship as his
father had done. And he gave to the Geats a countless number of each
kind of war-weeds, when he in old age passed away from this life, on
the outward journey. That was the first time for the young champion
that he went into the war-rush with his noble lord. Nor did his mind
melt within him, nor did the heirloom of his kinsman at the war-tide.
And the dragon discovered it when they two came together.</p>
<p class="par">Wiglaf spake many fitting words, and said to his
comrades (for his mind was sad within him): ‘I remember the time
when we partook of the mead, and promised our liege-lord in the
beer-hall, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb158" href="#pb158">158</a>]</span>he who gave to us rings, that we would yield to
him war-trappings both helmets and a hand-sword, if such need befell
him. And he chose us for this warfare, and for this journey, of his own
free will, and reminded us of glory; and to me he gave these gifts when
he counted us good spear-warriors and brave helmet-bearers, although
our lord, this guardian of the people had it in his mind all alone to
do this brave work for us, for he most of all men could do glorious
things and desperate deeds of war. And now is the day come that our
lord hath need of our prowess and of goodly warriors. Let us then go to
the help of our battle-lord while it lasts, the grim terror of fire.
God knows well of me that I would much rather that the flame should
embrace my body together with that of my lord the giver of gold. Nor
does it seem to me to be fitting that we should carry shields back to
the homestead except we have first laid low the foe and protected the
life of the Prince of the Weders.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1376src"
href="#xd21e1376">70</a> <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb159" href="#pb159">159</a>]</span>And
well I know that his old deserts were not that he alone of the youth of
the Geats should suffer grief and sink in the fighting. So both sword
and helmet, byrny and shield shall be common to both of us
together.’</p>
<p class="par">Then he waded through the slaughter-reek, and bore the
war-helmet to the help of his lord, and uttered a few words:
‘Beloved Beowulf, do thou be doing all things, as thou of yore in
the days of thy youth wast saying that thou wouldst not allow thy glory
to be dimmed whilst thou wast living. Now shalt thou, the brave in
deeds and the resolute noble, save thy life with all thy might. I am
come to help thee.’ After these words came the angry dragon, the
terrible and hostile sprite yet once again, and decked in his various
hues of whelmings of fire, against his enemies, the men that he hated.
And the wood of the shield was burnt up with the waves of flame, and
his byrny could not help the young spear-warrior; yet did the youth
bravely advance under the shield of his kinsman when his own had been
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb160" href="#pb160">160</a>]</span>destroyed by the flames. Then again the war-king
bethought him of glory, and struck a mighty blow with his battle-sword
so that it fixed itself in his head, forced in by violence. And
Naegling, Beowulf’s sword old and grey, broke in pieces, and
failed in the contest. It was not given to him that sharp edges of
swords should help him in battle. His hand was too strong, so that it
overtaxed every sword, as I have been told, by the force of its swing,
whenever he carried into battle a wondrous hand-weapon. And he was
nowise the better for a sword. Then for the third time, the scather of
the people, the terrible Fire-dragon, was mindful of feuds, and he
rushed on the brave man when he saw that he had room, all hot and
battle-grim, and surrounded his neck with bitter bones. And he was all
be-bloodied over with life-blood, and the sweat welled up in waves.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1386width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb161" href="#pb161">161</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s37" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXVII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then I heard
tell that the Earl of the King of the People showed in his time of need
unfailing courage in helping him with craft and keenness, as was
fitting for him to do. He paid no heed to the head of the dragon (but
the brave man’s hand was being burnt when he helped his kinsman),
but that warrior in arms struck at the hostile sprite somewhat lower in
his body so that his shining and gold-plated sword sank into his body,
and the fire proceeding therefrom began to abate. Then the good King
Beowulf got possession of his wits again, and drew his bitter and
battle-sharp short sword that he bore on his shield. And the King of
the Geats cut asunder the dragon in the midst of his body. And the
fiend fell prone; <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb162" href="#pb162"
>162</a>]</span>courage had driven out his life, and they
two together had killed him, noble comrades in arms. And thus should a
man who is a thane always be helping his lord at his need. And that was
the very last victory achieved by that Prince during his life-work.</p>
<p class="par">Then the wound which the Earth-dragon had formerly dealt
him began to burn and to swell. And he soon discovered that the baleful
venom was seething in his breast, the internal poison. Then the young
noble looked on the giant’s work as he sat on a seat musing by
the cliff wall, how arches of rock, firmly on columns held the eternal
earth-house within. Then the most noble thane refreshed his
blood-stained and famous Lord, his dear and friendly Prince with water,
with his own hands, and loosened the helmet for the battle-sated
warrior. And Beowulf spake, over his deathly pitiful wound, for well he
knew that he had enjoyed the day’s while of his earthly joy: and
the number of his days was all departed and death was coming very near.
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb163" href="#pb163">163</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">‘Now,’ said Beowulf, ‘I would have
given battle-weeds to my son if any heir had been given to me of my
body. I held sway over these peoples fifty years. And there was no
folk-king of those who sat round about who dared to greet me with
swords, or oppress with terror. At home have I bided my appointed time,
and well I held my own<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1403src" href=
"#xd21e1403">71</a>, nor did I seek out cunning
feuds, nor did I swear many unrighteous oaths. And I, sick of my
life-wounds, can have joy of all this. For the Wielder of men cannot
reproach me with murder of kinsmen when my life shall pass forth from
my body. Now do thou, beloved Wiglaf, go quickly and look on the hoard
under the hoar stone, now that the dragon lieth prone and asleep sorely
wounded and bereft of his treasure. And do thou make good speed that I
may look upon the ancient gold treasures and yarely be feasting mine
eyes upon the bright and cunning jewels, so that thereby after gazing
on that wealth of treasure I may the more easily give up my life and my
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb164" href="#pb164">164</a>]</span>lordship over the people, whom I have ruled so
long.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1409width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s38" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXVIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then
straightway I heard tell how the son of Weohstan, after these words had
been spoken, obeyed the behest of his lord, who was sick of his wounds,
and carried the ring-net and the coat of mail adorned, under the roof
of the barrow. And as Wiglaf, exulting in victory, came by the seat, he
saw many gems shining and shaped like the sun<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1418src" href="#xd21e1418">72</a> and
gleaming gold all lying on the ground, and wondrous decorations on the
wall, and he saw too the den of the dragon, the ancient twilight-flier,
and flagons standing there and vessels of men of days <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb165" href="#pb165">165</a>]</span>long
gone by, no longer polished but shorn of adornment. And there also was
many a helmet, ancient and rusty, and many arm-rings cunningly
twisted.</p>
<p class="par">The possession of treasure and of gold on the earth may
easily make proud all of mankind, let him hide it who will. Likewise he
saw the all-gilded banner lying high over the hoard, that greatest of
wondrous handiwork and all woven by the skill of human hands. And
therefrom went forth a ray of light, so that he could see the floor of
the cave, and look carefully at the jewels. And there was no sign of
the dragon, for the sword-edge had carried him off.</p>
<p class="par">Then I heard tell how in that barrow one at his own
doom<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1427src" href="#xd21e1427">73</a> plundered the hoard, that old work of giants, and
bore away on his arms both cups and dishes. And the banner also he
took, that brightest of beacons. Beowulf’s sword, with its iron
edge, had formerly injured him who had been the protector of these
treasures for a long time, and had waged fierce flame-terror, because
of the hoard fiercely <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb166" href=
"#pb166">166</a>]</span>welling in the midnight hour until
he was killed.</p>
<p class="par">The messenger<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1434src" href=
"#xd21e1434">74</a> was in haste, and eager for the
return journey, and laden with jewels, and curiosity tormented him as
to whether he would find the bold-minded Prince of the Geats alive on
the battle-field, and bereft of strength where before he had left him.
Then he with the treasures found the glorious lord, his own dear
master, at the last gasp, and all stained with blood. And he began to
throw water upon him, until the power of speech brake through his mind,
and Beowulf spake, and with sorrow he looked upon the hoard.</p>
<p class="par">‘I would utter words of thanks to the Lord and
wondrous King, to the eternal God, for the treasures which now I am
looking upon that I have managed to obtain them for my dear people
before my death-day. Now that I have in exchange for this hoard of
treasure sold my life in my old age, and laid it down, do thou still be
helping the people in their need, for I may no longer be lingering
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb167" href="#pb167">167</a>]</span>here. Do thou bid the famous warriors erect a
burial-mound, after the burning of the funeral pyre, at the edge of the
sea, which shall tower aloft on Whale’s Ness, as a memorial for
my people, and so the sea-farers shall call it the Hill of Beowulf,
even those who drive the high ships from afar through the mists of the
flood.’</p>
<p class="par">Then he the bold Prince doffed from his neck the golden
ring. And he gave it to his thane, to the young spear-warrior, the
gold-adorned helmet, the ring, and the byrny, and bade him enjoy it
well. ‘Thou, O Wiglaf,’ he said, ‘art the last heir
of our race, of that of the Waegmundings. Weird has swept away all my
kinsmen to their fated doom, all the earls in their strength, and I
shall follow after them.’</p>
<p class="par">Now that was the very last word of the old
warrior’s breast thoughts, ere he chose the funeral pyre the hot
wave-whelmings. And his soul went forth from his breast to be seeking
the doom of the truth-fast ones.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1446width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb168" href="#pb168">168</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s39" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XXXIX</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then had it
sorrowfully come to pass for the young warrior that he saw his most
beloved in a miserable plight on the earth at his life’s end.
Likewise the terrible dragon, his slayer, lay there bereft of life and
pressed sore by ruin. And the coiled dragon could no longer wield the
hoard of rings, but the iron edges of the sword, well tempered and
battle-gashed; the hammer’s leavings<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1456src" href="#xd21e1456">75</a>, had
carried him off, so that the wide-flier, stilled because of his wounds,
fell to the earth near to the hoard-hall. And no more in playful wise
at the midnight hour, did he drift through the air; this dragon, proud
in his gainings of treasure, showed not his face, but was fallen to the
earth because of the handiwork of the battle-warrior.</p>
<p class="par">And as I have heard, it would have <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb169" href="#pb169">169</a>]</span>profited but few of the mighty men, even though
they were doughty in deeds of all kinds, though they should rush forth
against the flaming breath of the poisonous scather, even to the very
disturbing of the Ring-Hall with their hands, if they should have found
the guardian thereof awake, and dwelling in the cliff-cave. Then
Beowulf’s share of lordly treasure was paid for by his death. And
both he and the dragon had come to an end of their fleeting days.</p>
<p class="par">And not long after that, the laggards in battle, those
cowardly treaty-breakers, ten of them together, came back from the
woodlands, they who erewhile had dreaded the play of javelins when
their lord had sore need of their help. But they were filled with
shame, and carried their shields, and battle-weeds, to where the old
prince was lying. And they looked on Wiglaf; he the foot-warrior sat
aweary near to the shoulders of his lord, and sought to rouse him by
sprinkling water upon him, but he succeeded not at all. Nor could he,
though he wished it ever so much, keep <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb170" href="#pb170">170</a>]</span>life in the chieftain
or avert a whit the will of the Wielder of all things. Every
man’s fate was decided by the act of God, as is still the case.
Then was a grim answer easily given by the young man to these who
erewhile had lost their courage.</p>
<p class="par">Wiglaf spake, he the son of Weohstan, the sad-hearted.
‘He who will speak truth may say that the lord and master who
gave you gifts, and warlike trappings, in which ye are now standing,
when he very often gave on the ale-bench to them who sat in the hall,
both helmet and byrny, the Prince to his thanes, as he could find any
of you most noble far or near, that he wholly wrongly bestowed upon you
war-trappings when war befell him. The King of the folk needed not
indeed to boast of his army comrades, yet God, the Wielder of Victory,
granted to him that alone he avenged himself with the edge of the sword
when he had need of strength. And but a little life-protection could I
give him in the battle, yet I sought to help him beyond my strength.
The <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb171" href="#pb171">171</a>]</span>dragon was by so much the weaker when I struck
with my sword that deadly foe. And less fiercely the fire surged forth
from his head. Too few were the defenders thronged around their lord
when his fated hour came. And now shall the receiving of treasure, and
the gift of swords, and all joy of home and hope cease for ever to men
of your kin. And every man of you of the tribe must wander empty of
land-rights, since noble men will learn far and wide of your flight and
inglorious deed. Death would be better for earls than a life of
reproach.’</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1472width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s40" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XL</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then he bade
them announce that battle-work at the entrenchment up over the
sea-cliff where that troop of earls sat sorrowful in soul through the
morning-long day, holding their shields and in expectation <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb172" href="#pb172">172</a>]</span>of
the end of the day and the return of the dear man. And he who rode to
and fro o’er the headland was little sparing of fresh tidings,
but said to all who were sitting there, ‘Now is the joy-giver of
the people of the Geats fast on his death-bed, and by the deed of the
dragon he inhabits the place of rest gained by a violent death. And by
his side lieth the enemy of his life, sick of his dagger-wounds. Nor
could he inflict with the sword any wound on that monster. Wiglaf sits
over Beowulf, he the son of Weohstan, the earl over the other one who
is dead, and reverently keeps ward over the loathèd and the
belovèd. But there is an expectation of a time of war to the
people, since to Franks and Frisians the fall of the King has become
widely known. The hard strife was shapen against the Hugs, when Hygelac
came with a fleet into the Frisian lands<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1483src" href="#xd21e1483">76</a> where the
Hetware overcame him in battle, and by their great strength and courage
brought it to pass <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb173" href="#pb173"
>173</a>]</span>that the shield-warrior should stoop. He
fell in the troop. Nor did the Prince give jewelled armour to the
doughty ones. The mercy of the Merewing<a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1491src" href="#xd21e1491">77</a> was not
always shown to us. Nor do I expect aught of peace or good faith from
the Swedish People. But it was well known that Ongentheow<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1494src" href="#xd21e1494">78</a> bereft Hæthcyn the son of Hrethel<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1501src" href="#xd21e1501">79</a> of life over against Ravenswood, when because of
pride the warlike Swedes first sought out the people of the Geats. Soon
Ongentheow the wise father of Ohthere, the ancient and terrible, gave
him (Hæthcyn) a return blow, destroyed the sea-kings, and rescued
his bride (Queen Elan) he the old man rescued his wife bereft of gold,
the mother of Onela and of Ohthere, and then followed up the deadly foe
until with difficulty they retreated all lord-less to Ravenswood. And
he attacked the remnant<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1504src" href=
"#xd21e1504">80</a> <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb174" href="#pb174">174</a>]</span>with a great army,
weary though he was with his wounds. And the live-long night he vowed
woe upon the wretched troop, and said that on the morrow he would by
the edge of the sword slay some and hang them up on the gallows-tree
for a sport of the birds. But help came to the sorrowful in soul at the
dawn of day, when they heard the horn of Hygelac and the blast of his
trumpet when the good man came on the track faring with the doughty
warriors of the people.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1510width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s41" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XLI</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-a.png" alt=''></span>‘And
the blood-track of both Swedes and Geats, the slaughter-rush of
warriors, was widely seen how the folk stirred up the feud amongst
them. The good man, wise and very sad, went away with his comrades to
seek out a stronghold. Earl <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb175" href=
"#pb175">175</a>]</span>Ongentheow turned away to higher
ground, for he the war-crafty one had heard of the prowess of Hygelac
the proud. He had no trust in his power to resist, or that he would be
able to refuse the demands of the seamen, the ocean-farers, or defend
the treasure he had taken, the children and the bride.<a class=
"noteref" id="xd21e1521src" href="#xd21e1521">81</a> Thence afterwards, being old, he sought refuge
under the earth-wall. Then was chase given to the people of the Swedes
and the banner of Hygelac borne aloft; and they swept o’er the
field of peace when the sons of Hrethel thronged to the entrenchment.
And there too, was Ongentheow, he the grey-haired King of the People
driven to bay at the edge of the sword, and forced to submit to the
sole doom of Eofor. And angrily did Wulf, son of Wanred, smite him with
weapon, so that from that swinging blow blood-sweat gushed forth in
streams under the hair of his head. Yet the old Swede was not terrified
thereby, but quickly gave back a terrible blow by a worse exchange when
the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb176" href="#pb176">176</a>]</span>King of the people turned thither. Nor could
Wulf the bold son of Wanred give back a blow to the old churl, for
Ongentheow had formerly cut his helmet in two, so that he, stained with
blood, fell prone perforce to the ground. But not yet was he doomed,
but he raised himself up, though the wound touched him close. And the
hardy thane of Hygelac (Eofor) when his brother lay prostrate, caused
the broad sword, the old giant’s sword, to crash through the wall
of shields upon the gigantic helmet. Then stooped the King, the
shepherd of the people, mortally wounded. And there were many who bound
up his kinsman and quickly upraised him when room had been made so that
they might possess the battle-field, while one warrior was plundering
another. One took the iron shield of Ongentheow, and his hard-hilted
sword, and his helmet, and carried the trappings of the old man to
Hygelac. And he received the treasures, and fairly he promised reward
for the people, and he did as he promised. The lord of the Geats
(Hygelac) <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb177" href="#pb177">177</a>]</span>son of Hrethel, rewarded with very costly gifts
the battle onset of Eofor and Wulf when he got back to his palace, and
bestowed upon each of them a hundred thousand, of land and locked
rings. Nor could any man in the world reproach him for that reward,
since they had gained glory by fighting; and he gave to Eofor his only
daughter, she who graced his homestead, to wed as a favour. And this is
the feud and the enmity and hostile strife of men, which I expect the
Swedish people will seek to awaken against us when they shall hear we
have lost our Prince, he who in days of yore held treasure and kingdom
against our foes after the fall of heroes, and held in check the fierce
Swede, and did what was good for the people and deeds worthy of an
earl. Now is it best for us to hasten to look upon our King and bring
him who gave to us rings to the funeral pyre. Nor shall a part only of
the treasure be melted with the proud man, but there is a hoard of
wealth, an immense mass of gold, bought at a grim cost, for now at
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb178" href="#pb178">178</a>]</span>the very end of his life he bought for us rings.
And the brands shall devour all the treasures and the flames of the
funeral fire, they shall enfold them, nor shall an earl carry away any
treasure as a memorial, nor shall any maid all beauteous wear on her
neck ring adornments, but shall go sad of soul and bereft of gold, and
often not once only tread an alien land now that the battle-wise man
(Beowulf) has laid aside laughter, the games and the joys of song. And
many a morning cold shall the spear in the hand-grip be heaved up on
high, nor shall there be the sound of harping to awaken the warriors,
but the war-raven, eager over the doomed ones, shall say many things to
the eagle how it fared with him in eating the carrion while he, with
the wolf, plundered the slaughtered.’</p>
<p class="par">Thus then was the brave warrior reciting loathly spells.
And he lied not at all in weird or word. Then the troop rose up
together, and all unblithely went under Eagles’ Ness, to look on
the wonder, and tears were welling. Then <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb179" href="#pb179">179</a>]</span>they found him on the
sand in his last resting-place, and bereft of soul, who had given them
rings in days gone by, and then had the last day drawn to its close,
for the good man Beowulf, the warrior King, the Lord of the
Weder-Goths, had died a wondrous death.</p>
<p class="par">But before this they had seen a more marvellous sight,
the dragon on the sea-plain, the loathsome one lying right opposite.
And there was the fire-dragon grimly terrible, and scorched with fire.
And he was fifty feet in length as he lay there stretched out. He had
had joy in the air awhile by night, but afterwards he went down to
visit his den. But now he was the prisoner of death, and had enjoyed
his last of earth-cares. And by him stood drinking-cups and flagons,
and dishes were lying there and a costly sword, all rusty and eaten
through as though they had rested a thousand winters in the bosom of
the earth. And those heirlooms were fashioned so strongly, the gold of
former races of men, and all wound round with spells, so that no man
could come near <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb180" href="#pb180"
>180</a>]</span>that Ring-hall, unless God only, Himself
the true King of victories, gave power to open up the hoard to whom He
would (for He is the Protector of men) even to that man as it seemed
good to Him.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1542width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s42" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XLII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then was it
quite clear to them that the affair had not prospered with the monster,
who had hidden ornaments within the cave under the cliff. The guardian
thereof had slain some few in former days. Then had the feud been
wrathfully avenged. And it is a mystery anywhere when a valiant earl
reaches the end of his destiny, when a man may no longer with his
kinsman dwell in the mead-hall. And thus was it <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb181" href="#pb181">181</a>]</span>with
Beowulf when he sought out the guardian of the cavern and his cunning
crafts. And he himself knew not how his departure from this world would
come about. And thus famous chieftains uttered deep curses until the
day of doom, because they had allowed it to come to pass that the
monster should be guilty of such crimes, and, accursed and fast with
hell-bands, as he was, and tormented with plagues that he should
plunder the plain. He (Beowulf) was not greedy of gold, and had more
readily in former days seen the favour of God.</p>
<p class="par">Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan: ‘Often shall
many an earl of his own only will suffer misery, as is our fate. Nor
could we teach the dear lord and shepherd of the kingdom any wisdom so
that he would fail to be meeting the keeper of the gold treasures (the
dragon) or to let him stay where he had been long time dwelling in his
cavern until the world’s end. But he held to his high destiny.
Now the hoard is seen by us, grimly got hold of, and <span class="corr"
id="xd21e1555" title="Source: it">at</span> too great a cost was it
yielded to the King <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb182" href="#pb182"
>182</a>]</span>of the people whom he enticed to that
conflict. I was within the cavern, and looked upon all the hoard, the
decoration of the palace, when by no means pleasantly, room was made
for me, and a faring was granted to me in under the sea-cliff. And in
much haste I took a very great burden of hoard-treasures in my hand,
and bore it forth hither to my King. He was still alive, wise and
witting well. And he the ancient uttered many words in sadness, and
bade me greet you, and commanded that ye should build after death of
your friend a high grave-mound in the place of the funeral pyre, a
great and famous monument, for he himself was the most worshipful of
men throughout the earth, while he was enjoying the wealth of his city.
Let us now go and see and seek yet once again the heap of treasures,
the wonder under the cliff. I will direct you, so that ye may look at
close quarters upon the rings and the wealth of gold. Let the bier be
quickly made ready when we come forth again, and then let us carry
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb183" href="#pb183">183</a>]</span>the dear man our lord when he shall enjoy the
protection of the Ruler of all things.’</p>
<p class="par">Then the son of Weohstan, the battle-dear warrior,
ordered that commandment should be given to many a hero and householder
that they should bring the wood for the funeral pyre from far, they the
folk-leaders, to where the good man lay dead.</p>
<p class="par">‘Now the war-flame shall wax and the fire shall
eat up the strong chief among warriors, him who often endured the iron
shower, when the storm of arrows, strongly impelled, shot over the
shield-wall, and the shaft did good service, and all eager with its
feather, fear followed and aided the barb.’ Then the proud son of
Weohstan summoned from the troop the thanes of the King, seven of them
together, and the very best of them, and he the eighth went under the
hostile roof. And one of the warriors carried in his hand a torch which
went on in front.</p>
<p class="par">And no wise was it allotted who should plunder that
hoard, since they saw <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb184" href=
"#pb184">184</a>]</span>some part unguarded remaining in
the Hall, and lying there fleeting.</p>
<p class="par">And little did any man mourn when full heartily they
carried forth the costly treasures. Then they shoved the dragon the
worm over the cliff-wall, and let the wave take him and the flood
embrace that guardian of the treasures. Then the twisted golden
ornaments were loaded on a wagon, an immense number of them. And the
noble Atheling, the hoar battle-warrior, was carried to Whales’
Ness.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1573width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="s43" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="main">XLIII</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>Then the
People of the Geats got ready the mighty funeral pyre, and hung it
round with helmets and battle-shields, and bright byrnies as he had
asked. And in the midst they lay the famous Prince, and they lamented
the Hero, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb185" href="#pb185">185</a>]</span>their dear lord. Then the warriors began to stir
up the greatest of bale-fires on the cliff-side. And the reek of the
wood-smoke went up swart, over the flame, which was resounding, and its
roar mingled with weeping (and the tumult of winds was still), until it
had broken the body, all hot into the heart. And unhappy in their
thinkings, and with minds full of care, they proclaim the death of
their lord, likewise a sorrowful song the Bride....<a class="noteref"
id="xd21e1584src" href="#xd21e1584">82</a></p>
<p class="par">And heaven swallowed up the smoke. Then on the
cliff-slopes the people of the Geats erected a mound, very high and
very broad, that it might be beholden from afar by the wave-farers; and
they set up the beacon of the mighty in battle in ten days. And the
leavings of the funeral fire they surrounded with a wall, so that very
proud men might find it to be most worthy of reverence. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb186" href="#pb186">186</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">And they did on the barrow rings and necklaces, and all
such adornments as formerly warlike men had taken of the hoard. And
they allowed the earth to hold the treasure of earls, the gold on the
ground, where it still is to be found as useless to men as it always
was.<a class="noteref" id="xd21e1592src" href="#xd21e1592">83</a> Then the battle-dear men rode round about the
mound, the children of the Athelings, twelve of them there were in all,
and would be uttering their sorrows and lamenting their King, and
reciting a dirge, and speaking of their champion. And they talked of
his earlship and of his brave works, and deemed them doughty, as is
fitting that a man should praise his lord in words and cherish him in
his heart when he shall have gone forth from the fleeting body. So the
People of the Geats lamented over the fall of their lord, his
hearth-companions, and said that he was a world-king, and the mildest,
the gentlest of men, and most tender to his people, and most eager for
their praise.</p>
<p class="par"></p>
<div class="figure xd21e1599width"><img src="images/ornament.png" alt=
"Ornament." width="175" height="21"></div>
<p class="par"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb187" href="#pb187">187</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="footnotes">
<hr class="fnsep">
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e360" href="#xd21e360src">1</a></span> Not the
hero of this poem. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e360src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e369" href="#xd21e369src">2</a></span> The gables
were decorated with horns of stags and other beasts of the
chase. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e369src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e372" href="#xd21e372src">3</a></span> See
<a href="#app5">Appendix V</a>., and chapters <a href=
"#s28">XXVIII</a>, and <a href="#s29">XXIX</a>. <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e372src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e409" href="#xd21e409src">4</a></span>
Wyatt’s translation of ‘Ne his myne
wisse.’ <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e409src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e429" href="#xd21e429src">5</a></span> i.e.
Beowulf. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e429src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e432" href="#xd21e432src">6</a></span> Geats. The
tribe to which Beowulf belonged. They inhabited southern Sweden between
the Danes on the south and the Swedes on the north. See <a href=
"#app11">Appendix XI</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e432src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e440" href="#xd21e440src">7</a></span> Literally,
‘Then was the sea traversed at the end of the
ocean.’ <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e440src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e465" href="#xd21e465src">8</a></span> Frequent
references are made to the device of the boar on shield and helmet; cp.
p. 77, in description of Hnaef’s funeral pyre. <a class=
"fnarrow" href="#xd21e465src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e488" href="#xd21e488src">9</a></span> The name of
a reigning Danish dynasty. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e488src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e491" href="#xd21e491src">10</a></span> For Scyld
cp. Appendix II. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e491src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e512" href="#xd21e512src">11</a></span> Hygelac,
King of the Geats at the time, and uncle of Beowulf. <a class=
"fnarrow" href="#xd21e512src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e519" href="#xd21e519src">12</a></span>
Weland—‘the famous smith of Germanic legend,’ says
Wyatt—who also refers us to the Franks Casket in the British
Museum. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e519src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e534" href="#xd21e534src">13</a></span> Weird was
a peculiarly English conception. It means Fate, or Destiny. Then Weird
became a god or goddess—cp. ‘The Seafarer,’ an Old
English poem in which we find ‘Weird is stronger, the Lord is
mightier than any man’s thoughts.’ <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e534src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e578" href="#xd21e578src">14</a></span> i.e.
Wealtheow, Hrothgar’s Queen, who was of this
tribe. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e578src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e587" href="#xd21e587src">15</a></span> Healfdene
was the father of Hrothgar, King of the Danes. <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e587src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e622" href="#xd21e622src">16</a></span> i.e.
Beowulf. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e622src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e659" href="#xd21e659src">17</a></span> Thus we
see how sagas or legends came to be woven together into a song. See
<a href="#app10">Appendix X</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e659src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e667" href="#xd21e667src">18</a></span> Heremod
was a King of the Danes, and is introduced, says Wyatt, as a stock
example of a bad King. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e667src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e673" href="#xd21e673src">19</a></span>
Wyatt’s translation. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e673src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e714" href="#xd21e714src">20</a></span> Byrny was
a coat of mail. Swords were of greater value as they were ancient
heirlooms, and had done good service. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e714src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e733" href="#xd21e733src">21</a></span> See
<a href="#app6">Appendix VI</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e733src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e739" href="#xd21e739src">22</a></span> i.e.
Hildeburh, wife of Finn. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e739src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e744" href="#xd21e744src">23</a></span> i.e.
Finn. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e744src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e750" href="#xd21e750src">24</a></span> The boar
then, as ever since, occupied a prominent place in
heraldry. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e750src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e764" href="#xd21e764src">25</a></span> See a
similar passage in my version of <i>Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight</i>, Canto II. 1 and 2. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e764src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e782" href="#xd21e782src">26</a></span> Hrothulf,
nephew of Hrothgar. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e782src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e796" href="#xd21e796src">27</a></span> See
<a href="#app3">Appendix III</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e796src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e802" href="#xd21e802src">28</a></span> See
<a href="#app4">Appendix IV</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e802src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e831" href="#xd21e831src">29</a></span>
Wyatt’s translation. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e831src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e840" href="#xd21e840src">30</a></span> That is,
‘the harp.’ <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e840src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e854" href="#xd21e854src">31</a></span>
Rune—literally, ‘a secret.’ <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e854src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e859" href="#xd21e859src">32</a></span> Cp. the
phrase ‘Welsh marches,’ i.e. the boundaries or limits of
Wales. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e859src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e864" href="#xd21e864src">33</a></span> Cp.
description of hunting in <i>Sir Gawain and the Green Knight</i>, Canto
III. 2. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e864src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e891" href="#xd21e891src">34</a></span> Scyldings
are the Danes. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e891src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e900" href="#xd21e900src">35</a></span> i.e.
Unferth. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e900src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e903" href="#xd21e903src">36</a></span> Cp.
Chapter <a href="#s8">VIII</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e903src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e920" href="#xd21e920src">37</a></span> i.e.
Hrothgar. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e920src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e947" href="#xd21e947src">38</a></span> i.e. the
sun. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e947src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e956" href="#xd21e956src">39</a></span>
Hrothgar. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e956src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e984" href="#xd21e984src">40</a></span> Cp. pp.
66–68. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e984src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e987" href="#xd21e987src">41</a></span>
‘Honour-full’ is Wyatt’s translation. <a class=
"fnarrow" href="#xd21e987src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1026" href="#xd21e1026src">42</a></span>
Hrethric, one of Hrothgar’s sons. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1026src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1033" href="#xd21e1033src">43</a></span>
Literally, ‘the gannet’s bath.’ The sea is also
‘Swan’s path,’ ‘Sail-path,’
&c. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1033src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1042" href="#xd21e1042src">44</a></span> A
difficult phrase. Refers perhaps to old feuds between Danes and
Geats. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1042src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1056" href="#xd21e1056src">45</a></span> Cp.
Chapter <a href="#s3">III</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1056src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1070" href="#xd21e1070src">46</a></span> Thrytho
is referred to as a foil to Hygd. Thrytho was as bad a woman as Hygd
was good. She was a woman of a wild and passionate disposition. She
became the Queen of King Offa, and it seems to have been a case of the
‘taming of the shrew.’ Offa appears to have been her second
husband. See below. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1070src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1075" href="#xd21e1075src">47</a></span> i.e. to
Offa. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1075src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1089" href="#xd21e1089src">48</a></span> i.e.
Hygelac; see <a href="#app7">Appendices VII</a>. and <a href=
"#app9">IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1089src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1100" href="#xd21e1100src">49</a></span> i.e.
Hygd, Queen of the Geats, Hygelac’s wife. <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e1100src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1107" href="#xd21e1107src">50</a></span> i.e.
Wealtheow, Hrothgar’s Queen. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1107src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1112" href="#xd21e1112src">51</a></span> i.e.
Ingeld. See below. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1112src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1117" href="#xd21e1117src">52</a></span> Another
episode, viz. that of Freawaru and Ingeld. Note also the artificial
break of the narrative into chapters. See <a href="#app5">Appendix
V</a>.</p>
<p class="par footnote">Hrothgar’s hopes by the marriage of his
daughter Freawaru to Ingeld of the Heathobards was doomed to
disappointment, cp. ‘Widsith,’ 45–9. <a class=
"fnarrow" href="#xd21e1117src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1134" href="#xd21e1134src">53</a></span> Numbers
XXIX. and XXX. are lacking in the MS. The divisions here are as in
Wyatt’s edition. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1134src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1140" href="#xd21e1140src">54</a></span>
Withergyld—name of a Heathobard warrior. <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e1140src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1149" href="#xd21e1149src">55</a></span>
Probably referring to the chanting of some ancient legend by the scop,
or gleeman. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1149src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1168" href="#xd21e1168src">56</a></span>
Wyatt’s translation. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1168src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1181" href="#xd21e1181src">57</a></span> Hygelac
was killed in his historical invasion of the Netherlands, which is five
times referred to in the poem. See <a href="#app7">Appendix
VII</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1181src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1187" href="#xd21e1187src">58</a></span> See
<a href="#app9">Appendix IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1187src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1195" href="#xd21e1195src">59</a></span> The MS.
here is very imperfect. I have used the emended text of Bugge, which
makes good sense. See <a href="#app12">Appendix XII</a>. <a class=
"fnarrow" href="#xd21e1195src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1213" href="#xd21e1213src">60</a></span> Here
again the text is imperfect. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1213src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1245" href="#xd21e1245src">61</a></span>
Possibly a later insertion, ‘the ten commandments’
(Wyatt). <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1245src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1255" href="#xd21e1255src">62</a></span> Beowulf
saved his life by swimming across the sea, in Hygelac’s famous
raid. See <a href="#app7">Appendix VII</a>. <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e1255src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1267" href="#xd21e1267src">63</a></span> See
<a href="#app9">Appendix IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1267src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1284" href="#xd21e1284src">64</a></span> See
<a href="#app9">Appendix IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1284src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1294" href="#xd21e1294src">65</a></span> See p.
138. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1294src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1301" href="#xd21e1301src">66</a></span> See
<a href="#app8">Appendix VIII</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1301src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1324" href="#xd21e1324src">67</a></span> See
<a href="#app7">Appendices VII</a>. and <a href=
"#app9">IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1324src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1361" href="#xd21e1361src">68</a></span>
Waegmundings—the family to which both Beowulf and Wiglaf
belonged. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1361src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1366" href="#xd21e1366src">69</a></span> See
<a href="#app9">Appendix IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1366src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1376" href="#xd21e1376src">70</a></span> i.e.
Beowulf. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1376src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1403" href="#xd21e1403src">71</a></span> Wyatt
and Morris’s translations. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1403src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1418" href="#xd21e1418src">72</a></span> Wyatt
and Morris translate ‘sun jewels.’ <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e1418src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1427" href="#xd21e1427src">73</a></span>
Wyatt’s translation. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1427src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1434" href="#xd21e1434src">74</a></span> i.e.
Wiglaf. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1434src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1456" href="#xd21e1456src">75</a></span> i.e. it
had been well hammered into shape. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1456src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1483" href="#xd21e1483src">76</a></span> Yet
another reference to Hygelac’s famous raid. See <a href=
"#app7">Appendix VII</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1483src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1491" href="#xd21e1491src">77</a></span>
Merovingian King of the Franks. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1491src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1494" href="#xd21e1494src">78</a></span> See
<a href="#app9">Appendix IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1494src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1501" href="#xd21e1501src">79</a></span>
Hrethel, King of Geats, father of Hygelac and grandfather of
Beowulf. <a class="fnarrow" href="#xd21e1501src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1504" href="#xd21e1504src">80</a></span>
Literally, ‘the sword-leavings.’ <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e1504src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1521" href="#xd21e1521src">81</a></span> See
<a href="#app9">Appendix IX</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1521src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1584" href="#xd21e1584src">82</a></span> Text in
MS. faulty here. Wyatt and Morris have adopted Bugge’s
emendation. The sense is that Beowulf’s widow with her hair bound
up utters forth a dirge over her dead husband. <a class="fnarrow"
href="#xd21e1584src">↑</a></p>
<p class="par footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" id=
"xd21e1592" href="#xd21e1592src">83</a></span>
Probably the treasures that remained in the cavern. See <a href=
"#s42">previous chapter</a>. <a class="fnarrow" href=
"#xd21e1592src">↑</a></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="back">
<div id="appendices" class="div1 chapter"><span class=
"pagenum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">APPENDICES</h2>
<div id="app1" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">I</h3>
<h3 class="main">GENERAL NOTE ON THE POEM</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par drop-img"><span class="drop-img"><img src="images/initial-t.png" alt=''></span>This is the
greatest poem that has come down to us from our Teutonic ancestors. Our
only knowledge of it is through the unique MS. in the British
Museum.</p>
<p class="par">It has already been translated at least eight times as
follows:</p>
<p class="par">1. Kemble, 1837.</p>
<p class="par">2. Thorpe and Arnold (with the O.E. Poem accompanying
it).</p>
<p class="par">3. Lumsden, 1881 (in ballad form).</p>
<p class="par">4. Garnett, 1883.</p>
<p class="par">5. Earle, 1892.</p>
<p class="par">6. William Morris and A. J. Wyatt, 1895. This is in
poetic form, but abounds in archaisms and difficult inversions, and is
sometimes not easy to read or indeed to understand. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb188" href="#pb188">188</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">7. Wentworth Huyshe, 1907.</p>
<p class="par">8. A translation in 1912. Author unknown.</p>
<p class="par">Many of the persons and events of <i>Beowulf</i> are
also known to us through various Scandinavian and French works as
follows:</p>
<div class="div3 section" id="xd21e1640">
<div class="divHead">
<h4 class="main">SCANDINAVIAN RECORDS.</h4>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">1. Saxo’s <i>Danish History</i>.</p>
<p class="par">2. Hrólf’s <i>Saga Kraka</i>.</p>
<p class="par">3. <i>Ynglinga Saga</i> (and <i>Ynglinga
tál</i>).</p>
<p class="par">4. <i>Skiöldunga Saga</i>.</p>
<p class="par">As instances of identical persons and events:</p>
<p class="par">1. Skiöldr, ancestor of Skiöldungar,
corresponds to Scyld the ancestor of Scyldungas.</p>
<p class="par">2. The Danish King Halfdan corresponds to Healfdene.</p>
<p class="par">3. His sons Hroarr and Helgi correspond to Hrothgar and
Halga.</p>
<p class="par">4. Hrölf Kraki corresponds to Hrothwulf, nephew of
Hrothgar.</p>
<p class="par">5. Frothi corresponds to Froda, and his son Ingialdi to
Ingeld.</p>
<p class="par">6. Otarr corresponds to Ohthere, and his son Athils to
Eadgils.</p>
<p class="par">With the exception of the <i>Ynglinga tál</i> all
these records are quite late, hence they do not afford any evidence for
the dates of events mentioned in <i>Beowulf</i>.</p>
<p class="tb"></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">Further Scandinavian correspondences are <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb189" href="#pb189">189</a>]</span>seen
in Böthvarr Biarki, the chief of Hrölf Kraki’s knights.
He is supposed to correspond to Beowulf. He came to Leire, the Danish
royal residence, and killed a demon in animal form. Saxo says it was a
bear. This demon attacked the King’s yard at Yule-tide, but
Biarki and Beowulf differ as to their future, for Biarki stayed with
Hrölf Kraki to the end and died with him.</p>
<p class="par">In the <i>Grettis Saga</i> the hero kills two demons,
male and female. It is true that the scene is laid in Iceland, but
minor details of scenery, the character of the demons, and other
similarities make it impossible to believe the two stories to be
different in origin. They both sprang out of a folk-tale associated
after ten centuries with Grettis, and in England and Denmark with an
historical prince of the Geats.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div3 section" id="xd21e1700">
<div class="divHead">
<h4 class="main">FRENCH RECORDS</h4>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">1. <i lang="la">Historia Francorum</i> and
<i lang="la">Gesta Regum Francorum</i> (discovered by Outzen and
Leo).</p>
<p class="par">In <span class="sc">A.D.</span> 520 a raid was made on
the territory of the Chatuarii. Their king Theodberht, son of Theodric
I, defeated Chocilaicus, who was killed. This Chocilaicus is identified
with the Hygelac of our poem, and the raid with Hygelac’s raid on
the Hetware (= Chatuarii), <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb190" href=
"#pb190">190</a>]</span>the Franks, and the Frisians. This
helps us to estimate the date for <i>Beowulf</i> as having been born
somewhere about the end of the fifth century.</p>
<p class="par">2. <i lang="la">Historia Francorum</i>, by Gregory of
Tours. The author speaks of the raider as the King of the Danes.</p>
<p class="par">3. <i lang="la">Liber Monstrorum.</i> In this work the
raider is Rex Getarum, King of the Geats, who may correspond with the
Geats of our poem. The Geats were the people of Gautland in Southern
Sweden. See <a href="#app11">Appendix XI</a>.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div3 section" id="xd21e1734">
<div class="divHead">
<h4 class="main">ORIGIN OF THE ANGLO-SAXON POEM</h4>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">It was probably written in Northumbrian or
Midland, but was preserved in a West Saxon translation.</p>
<p class="par">There would seem to be some justifiable doubt as to the
unity of the poem. Though on the whole pagan and primitive in tone, it
has a considerable admixture of Christian elements, e.g. on pp. 29 and
30 and pp. 109–112, though the latter passage may be a late
interpolation. Generally speaking, the poetry and sentiments are
Christian in tone, but the customs are pagan. The author of the article
in <i>The Cambridge History of English <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb191" href="#pb191">191</a>]</span>Literature</i>, vol.
i., to whom I owe much, says: ‘I cannot believe that any
Christian poet could have composed the account of Beowulf’s
funeral.’ One passage is very reminiscent of <a class=
"biblink xd21e43" title="Link to cited location in Bible" href=
"https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=eph%206:16">Eph. vi.
16</a>, viz. Chapter <a href="#s25">XXV</a>. p. 111; whilst page 25
(lower half) may be compared with Cædmon’s <i>Hymn</i>.
There are also references to Cain and Abel and to the Deluge. Of
Chapters I.–XXXI. the percentage of Christian elements is four,
whilst of the remaining Chapters (<a href="#s32">XXXII</a>. ad fin.)
the percentage is ten, due chiefly to four long passages. Note
especially that the words in Chapter <a href="#s2">II</a>., ‘And
sometimes they went vowing at their heathen shrines and offered
sacrifices,’ et seq., are quite inconsistent with the Christian
sentiment attributed to Hrothgar later in the poem. ‘It is
generally thought,’ says the writer in <i>The Cambridge History
of English Literature</i>, ‘that several originally separate lays
have been combined into one poem, and, while there is no proof of this,
it is quite possible and not unlikely.’</p>
<p class="par">There are in the poem four distinct lays:</p>
<p class="par">1. Beowulf’s Fight with Grendel.</p>
<p class="par">2. Beowulf’s Fight with Grendel’s
mother.</p>
<p class="par">3<span class="corr" id="xd21e1773" title=
"Not in source">.</span> Beowulf’s Return to the land of the
Geats.</p>
<p class="par">4. Beowulf’s Fight with the Dragon.</p>
<p class="par">Competent critics say that probably 1 and 2 <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb192" href="#pb192">192</a>]</span>ought to be taken together, while
Beowulf’s reception by Hygelac (see 3 above) is probably a
separate lay. Some scholars have gone much further in the work of
disintegration, even attributing one half of the poem to interpolators,
whilst others suggest two parallel versions. Summing up, the writer in
<i>The Cambridge History of English Literature</i> says: ‘I am
disposed to think that a large portion of the poem existed in epic form
before the change of faith, and that the appearance of Christian
elements in the poem is due to revision. The Christianity of
<i>Beowulf</i> is of a singularly indefinite and individual type, which
contrasts somewhat strongly with what is found in later Old English
poetry. This revision must have been made at a very early
date.’</p>
<p class="par">The poem was built up between <span class=
"sc">A.D.</span> 512, the date of the famous raid of Hygelac
(Chocilaicus) against the Hetware (Chatuarii), and 752, when the French
Merovingian dynasty fell; for, says Arnold, ‘The poem contains
not a word which by any human ingenuity could be tortured into a
reference to any event subsequent to the fall of the
Merovingians’ (<span class="sc">A.D.</span> 752). <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb193" href="#pb193">193</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app2" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">II</h3>
<h3 class="main">THE PRELUDE</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">The Prelude would seem to be an attempt to link up
the hero of the poem with the mythological progenitors of the Teutonic
nations. Thomas Arnold says: ‘That Sceaf, Scyld, and Beaw were
among the legendary ancestors of the West Saxon line of kings no one
disputes. But this does not mean much, for the poem itself shows that
the same three were also among the legendary ancestors of the Danish
kings.’ Ethelward, who wrote early in the tenth century, gives
the ancestry of Ethelwulf, the father of Alfred. Ethelward says:
‘The seventeenth ancestor from Cerdic was Beo, the eighteenth
Scyld, the nineteenth Scef.’ Ethelward also says: ‘Scef
himself, with one light vessel, arrived in the island of the ocean
which is called Scani, dressed in armour, and he was a very young boy,
and the inhabitants of that land knew nothing about him; however, he
was received by them, and kept with care and affection as though he
were of their own kin, and afterwards they chose him to be king, from
whose stock the King Athulf [Ethelwulf] derives his line.’
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb194" href="#pb194">194</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">It may be noted that neither Scyld nor Scef is mentioned
in the A.S. Chronicle (<span class="sc">A.D.</span> 855). William of
Malmesbury, in his Gesta Regum, says that Scef was so called from the
sheaf of wheat that lay at his head, that he was asleep when he
arrived, and that when he grew up he became a king in the town then
called Slaswic, now Haithebi (Rolls Ed., 1. 121).</p>
<p class="par">Müllenhoff says: ‘If we look closely into the
saga, the ship and the sheaf clearly point to navigation and
agriculture, the arms and jewels to kingly rule—all four gifts,
therefore, to the main elements and foundations of the oldest state of
culture among the Germans [Teutons?] of the sea-board; and if the
bearer of these symbols became the first king of the country, the
meaning can only be this, that from his appearance the beginning of the
oldest state of culture dates, and that generally before him no orderly
way of leading a human life had existed.’</p>
<p class="par">Scyld (meaning Shield) refers to the fact that the king
was the protector of the people in war, and is therefore symbolical,
like Scef.</p>
<p class="par">The ship and the sheaf, the arms and the jewels and the
shield—these are the symbols of that primitive
civilization—the sheaf, the symbol of agriculture and food, the
ship of <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb195" href="#pb195">195</a>]</span>commerce, the arms of warfare, the jewels of
reward of bravery, and the shield of the protection of the people by
the king.</p>
<p class="par">Arnold mentions the fact that no writer not English
mentions the saga of Scef and Scyld, and suggests that this is
presumption for the English origin of the legend. I do not, however,
think it is conclusive evidence. One is surprised that they are not
mentioned in Icelandic literature. Yet somehow the impression on my
mind is that these legends were probably brought by our Saxon and
Danish ancestors from the Continent, and are taken for granted as well
known to the hearers of the song. I think they probably formed part of
the legendary genealogy of our common Germanic (Teutonic) ancestors,
and happened to find their way into literature only among the English,
or have survived only in the English.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app3" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">III</h3>
<h3 class="main">‘BROSINGA MENE’</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">‘Brosinga Mene,’ p. 82, is the
‘Brisinga-mén’ mentioned in the <i>Edda</i>, an
Icelandic poem. ‘This necklace is the
Brisinga-mén—the costly necklace of Freja, which she won
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb196" href="#pb196">196</a>]</span>from the Dwarfs, and which was stolen from her
by Loki, as is told in the <i>Edda</i>’ (Kemble).</p>
<p class="par">Loki was a Scandinavian demi-god. He was beautiful and
cunning. He was the principle of strife, the spirit of evil; cp.
Job’s Satan. Freya was the Scandinavian Goddess of Love. She
claimed half of the slain in battle. She was the dispenser of joy and
happiness. The German <i lang="de">frau</i> is derived from Freya. Hama
carried off this necklace when he fled from Eormanric. The origin of
this legend, though worked up in the <i>Edda</i>, seems to have been
German or Gothic, and ‘Brosinga’ has reference to the
rock-plateau of Breisgau on the Rhine. It is probably a relic of the
lost saga of Eormanric (see <a href="#app4">Appendix IV</a>.), the
famous Ostrogothic king referred to in Chapter <a href=
"#s18">XVIII</a>. Eormanric is one of the few historical personages of
the poem.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app4" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">IV</h3>
<h3 class="main">EORMANRIC</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">Gibbon mentions Eormanric in his chapter XXV. of
the <i>Decline and Fall</i>, and, in spite of chronological
discrepancies, this Eormanric is probably identical with the one
mentioned in <i>Beowulf</i> (Chapter <a href="#s18">XVIII</a>.), in
Jornandes (Chapter XXIV.), and in the <i>Edda</i>. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb197" href="#pb197">197</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">In Jornandes the story is as follows.</p>
<p class="par"><i>Characters</i></p>
<ul>
<li>1. <span class="sc">Ermanaric.</span></li>
<li>2. A Chief of the Roxolani tribe who was a traitor.</li>
<li>3. <span class="sc">Sanielh</span> (= <span class=
"sc">Swanhild</span>) wife of the chief.</li>
<li>
<div class="table">
<table class="xd21e1891">
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellTop">4.</td>
<td class="cellTop"><span class="sc">Sarus</span>,</td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1899 cellTop cellBottom"><img src=
"images/rbrace2.png" alt="" width="12" height="40"></td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1901 cellRight cellTop cellBottom">brothers
of Sanielh.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellBottom">5.</td>
<td class="cellBottom"><span class="sc">Ammius</span>,</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">Ermanaric puts Sanielh to death by causing her to be
torn to pieces by wild horses, because of the treachery of her husband,
the chief of the Roxolani. Her brothers, Ammius and Sarus, avenge her
death by attacking Ermanaric, but they only succeed in wounding him and
disabling him for the rest of his life.</p>
<p class="par">In the <i>Edda</i> the story is as follows.</p>
<p class="par"><i>Characters</i></p>
<ul>
<li>1. <span class="sc">Gudrun</span>, widow of Sigurd and Atli.</li>
<li>2. <span class="sc">Swanhild</span>, daughter of Gudrun by
Sigurd.</li>
<li>3. <span class="sc">Jonakur</span>, Gudrun’s third
husband.</li>
<li>
<div class="table">
<table class="xd21e1891">
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellTop">4. <span class=
"sc">Sörli</span>,</td>
<td rowspan="3" class="xd21e1946 cellTop cellBottom"><img src=
"images/rbrace3.png" alt="" width="14" height="45"></td>
<td rowspan="3" class="xd21e1901 cellRight cellTop cellBottom">sons of
Gudrun and Jonakur.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft">5. <span class="sc">Hamthir</span>,</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellBottom">6. <span class="sc">Erp</span>,</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
</li>
<li>7. <span class="sc">Jormunrek</span> (<span class=
"sc">Eormanric</span>).</li>
<li>8. <span class="sc">Randver</span>, son of Jormunrek.</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">Jormunrek hears of the beauty of Swanhild and sends his
son Randver to seek her out for him in marriage. Gudrun consents; on
the way Randver is incited by the traitor Bicci to betray Swanhild, and
is then accused by him to the king. For this treachery <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb198" href="#pb198">198</a>]</span>Jormunrek hangs Randver and causes Swanhild to
be trampled to death by wild horses. Then the three sons of Gudrun set
out to avenge their sister. On the way his two brothers kill Erp, and
are consequently unable to kill Jormunrek. They only succeed in maiming
him.</p>
<p class="par">Saxo Grammaticus, to whom we also owe the story of
Hamlet, tells a similar story.</p>
<p class="par"><i>Characters</i></p>
<ul>
<li>1. <span class="sc">Jarmeric</span>, a Danish King.</li>
<li>2. <span class="sc">Swawilda</span> (= <span class=
"sc">Swanhild</span>), wife of Jarmeric.</li>
<li>3. <span class="sc">Hellespontine brothers</span>, brothers of
Swawilda.</li>
<li>4. <span class="sc">Bicco</span>, a servant of Jarmeric.</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">Bicco accuses Swawilda to Jarmeric of unfaithfulness. He
causes her to be torn to pieces by wild horses. Then her brothers kill
Jarmeric with the help of a witch, Gudrun, hewing off his hands and
feet.</p>
<p class="tb"></p>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">These three stories are evidently based on one common
original. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb199" href="#pb199">199</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app5" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">V</h3>
<h3 class="main">MARRIAGE OF FREAWARU AND INGELD</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first"><i>Characters</i></p>
<ul>
<li>1. <span class="sc">Freawaru</span>, daughter of Hrothgar the
Dane.</li>
<li>2. <span class="sc">Ingeld</span>, son of Froda, King of the
Heathobards.</li>
<li>3. <span class="sc">Froda</span>, King of the Heathobards.</li>
<li>4. A Heathobard warrior.</li>
<li>5. Son of the Danish warrior who had killed Froda.</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">The Heathobards were a people in Zealand. There had been
an ancient feud between the Danes and the Heathobards in which Froda
had been killed by a Danish warrior. Hrothgar hoped to appease the feud
by the marriage of his daughter Freawaru to Ingeld. Unluckily, the son
of the Danish warrior who had killed Froda accompanied Freawaru to
Ingeld’s Court. Then an old Heathobard warrior notices this and
stirs up strife. The marriage fails in its object, and war breaks out
again between the Danes and the Heathobards. Beowulf predicts the
course of events in his speech to Hygelac (Chapters <a href=
"#s28">XXVIII</a>. and <a href="#s29">XXIX</a>.). <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb200" href="#pb200">200</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app6" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">VI</h3>
<h3 class="main">FINN</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">The Finn episode (Chapters <a href="#s16">XVI</a>.
and <a href="#s17">XVII</a>.) is one of those events in <i>Beowulf</i>
that would be quite well known to the first hearers of the song, but to
us is lacking in that clearness we might desire. Fortunately, Dr.
Hickes discovered a fragment entitled, ‘The Fight at
Finnsburgh,’ on the back of a MS. of the <i>Homilies</i>. From
<i>Beowulf</i> and from this fragment we are able to piece together an
intelligible story. It is probably as follows:</p>
<p class="par"><i>Characters</i></p>
<ul>
<li>1. <span class="sc">Finn</span>, King of the North Frisians and
Jutes.</li>
<li>2. <span class="sc">Hoc</span>, a Danish chieftain.</li>
<li>3. <span class="sc">Hildeburh</span>, daughter of Hoc.</li>
<li>4. <span class="sc">Hnaef</span>, son of Hoc.</li>
<li>5. <span class="sc">Hengest</span>, son of Hoc.</li>
<li>6. Two sons of Finn and Hildeburh.</li>
<li>7. <span class="sc">Hunlafing</span>, a Finnish warrior.</li>
<li>8. <span class="sc">Guthlaf</span> and <span class=
"sc">Oslaf</span>, two Danish warriors.</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">Finn abducts Hildeburh, the daughter of Hoc, the Dane.
Hoc pursues the two fugitives and is killed in the mêlée.
Twenty years pass by—Hnaef and Hengest, sons of Hoc, take up the
‘vendetta.’ In the fighting Hnaef and a son of Finn and
Hildeburh are slain. A peace is patched up. Hengest, son of Hoc,
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb201" href="#pb201">201</a>]</span>is persuaded to remain as a guest of Finn for
the winter, and it is agreed that no reference shall be made by either
side to the feud between them. Then the bodies of Hnaef,
Hildeburh’s brother, and of her son are burnt together on the
funeral pyre, ‘and great is the mourning of Hildeburh for her
son.’ But Hengest is ever brooding vengeance. The strife breaks
out anew in the spring. Hengest is killed, but two of his warriors,
Guthlaf and Oslaf, break through the enemy, return to Finn’s
country, and slay him and carry off Hildeburh. ‘The Fight at
Finnsburgh,’ which is Homeric in style, is the account of the
first invasion of Finn by Hnaef and Hengest, and Wyatt fits it in
before the Finn episode on p. 75. Möller places it after the
phrase, ‘whose edge was well known to the Jutes,’ on p.
79.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app7" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">VII</h3>
<h3 class="main">HYGELAC</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">Hygelac, son of Hrethel, was king of the Geats,
and uncle of Beowulf, his sister’s son. He was the reigning king
of Beowulf’s fellow countrymen the Geats during the greater part
of the action of the poem. Beowulf is often <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb202" href="#pb202">202</a>]</span>called ‘Hygelac’s kinsman,’
and when he went forth to his battle with Grendel’s mother
(Chapter <a href="#s22">XXII</a>.), he bade Hrothgar in case of his
death send the treasures he had given to him to Hygelac. Hygelac
married Hygd, who is presented to us as a good Queen, the daughter of
Hæreth. She was ‘very young,’ ‘of noble
character,’ and ‘wise.’ She is compared, to her
advantage, with Thrytho, who was a shrewish woman. No one dared to look
upon her except her husband. However, her second husband, Offa, seems
to have ‘tamed the shrew’ (see p. 120). Hygelac has been
identified with Chocilaicus, who was killed in the famous raid on the
Chatuarii referred to in the <i>Historia Francorum</i> and the <i>Gesta
Regum</i>, who are identified with the Hetware of this poem (see p. 143
and <a href="#app1">Appendix I</a>.).</p>
<p class="par">The famous raid of Hygelac upon the Hetware in which he
met his death is referred to five times in the poem, as follows:
Chapters <a href="#s18">XVIII</a>., p. 83; <a href="#s31">XXXI</a>., p.
134; <a href="#s33">XXXIII</a>., p. 142; <a href="#s35">XXXV</a>., p.
151; <a href="#s40">XL</a>., p. 172.</p>
<p class="par">On the death of Hygelac his son Heardred succeeded to
the throne (Chapter <a href="#s31">XXXI</a>., p. 134); and, after a
brief interval, he was killed in battle by Onela (see <a href=
"#app9">Appendix IX</a>.). Then Beowulf succeeded to the throne of the
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb203" href="#pb203">203</a>]</span>Geats (Chapter <a href="#s31">XXXI</a>., p.
134). Hygelac died between a.d. 512 and 520. Beowulf died about 568. He
reigned fifty years.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app8" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">VIII</h3>
<h3 class="main">HÆTHCYN AND HEREBALD</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">It would seem doubtful as to whether this was
deliberate or accidental. The poet says ‘Hæthcyn missed the
mark’ with his javelin and killed his brother Herebald; but
subsequently he speaks as though it had been deliberate murder.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app9" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">IX</h3>
<h3 class="main">WARS BETWEEN THE SWEDES AND THE GEATS</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first"><i>Characters</i></p>
<p class="par">1. <i>Swedes</i></p>
<ul>
<li>1. <span class="sc">Ongentheow</span>, King of the Swedes.</li>
<li>
<div class="table">
<table class="xd21e1891">
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellTop">2. <span class="sc">Onthere</span>,</td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1899 cellTop cellBottom"><img src=
"images/rbrace2.png" alt="" width="12" height="40"></td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1901 cellRight cellTop cellBottom">his two
sons.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellBottom">3. <span class="sc">Onela</span>,</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
</li>
<li>
<div class="table">
<table class="xd21e1891">
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellTop">4. <span class="sc">Eadgils</span>,</td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1899 cellTop cellBottom"><img src=
"images/rbrace2.png" alt="" width="12" height="40"></td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1901 cellRight cellTop cellBottom">two sons
of Ohthere.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellBottom">5. <span class=
"sc">Eanmund</span>,</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">2. <i>Geats, &c.</i></p>
<ul>
<li>6. <span class="sc">Hæthcyn</span>, King of Geats.</li>
<li>7. <span class="sc">Hygelac</span>, King of Geats.</li>
<li>8. <span class="sc">Heardred</span>, King of Geats.</li>
<li>9. <span class="sc">Beowulf</span>, King of Geats.</li>
<li>
<div class="table">
<table class="xd21e1891">
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellTop">10. <span class="sc">Eofor</span>,</td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1899 cellTop cellBottom"><img src=
"images/rbrace2.png" alt="" width="12" height="40"></td>
<td rowspan="2" class="xd21e1901 cellRight cellTop cellBottom">two Geat
warriors.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="cellLeft cellBottom">11. <span class="sc">Wulf,</span></td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
</li>
</ul>
<p class="par"></p>
<p class="par">Ongentheow was a King of the Swedes. The Swedes are also
called Scylfings in the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb204" href=
"#pb204">204</a>]</span>poem. The origin of the word
‘Scylfing’ is doubtful. Ongentheow went to war with
Hæthcyn, King of the Geats and brother of Hygelac; and
Ongentheow, who was well advanced in years, struck down his foe
(Chapter <a href="#s40">XL</a>., p. 173) at the battle of Ravenswood.
This was the first time that the Swedes invaded the Geats. The Geats
retreated into the Ravenswood at nightfall, but with the dawn they
heard the horn of Hygelac ‘as the good prince came marching on
the track.’ Ongentheow now was alarmed, for Hygelac’s
prowess in battle was far-famed. He withdrew into some fortification,
and was attacked by the Geats. Two brothers, Eofor and Wulf, assailed
the veteran warrior. He defended himself with great vigour and killed
Wulf; but Eofor came to the help of his brother and dealt Ongentheow
his death-blow over the guard of his shield.</p>
<p class="par">Ongentheow’s two sons were Onela and Ohthere.
Ohthere had two sons, Eanmund and Eadgils.</p>
<p class="par">These two sons of Ohthere were banished from Sweden for
rebellion, and took refuge at the Court of the Geat King Heardred. This
greatly enraged their uncle Onela, that they should resort to the Court
of their hereditary foes (see above). Onela invaded the land of
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb205" href="#pb205">205</a>]</span>the
Geats (Chapters <a href="#s33">XXXIII</a>.
and <a href="#s34">XXXIV</a>., pp. 144 sq.) and slew Heardred. Then it
was that Beowulf became King of the Geats. Thus two Geatish kings had
been slain by the Swedes, viz. Hæthcyn and Heardred. In revenge,
later on, Beowulf supported Eadgils in his counter-attack on his own
fatherland when Eadgils killed his uncle Onela. This story is confirmed
by the Scandinavian accounts in which Athils (= Eadgils) slew Ali (=
Onela) on the ice of Lake Wener; cp. the phrase ‘cold
journeyings’ (Chapter <a href="#s34">XXXIV</a>., p. 145).</p>
<p class="par">This is Wyatt’s version of the story.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app10" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">X</h3>
<h3 class="main">SIGMUND</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">Sigmund (page 65) is the father and uncle of
Fitela. He is stated in <i>Beowulf</i> to have killed a serpent who
kept guard over a hoard of treasure. In the Icelandic saga known as the
<i>Völsunga Saga</i>, Sigmund is represented as the father of
Sigurd, and ‘it is Sigurd who rifles the treasure of the Niblungs
and kills the serpent (Fafnir), its guardian’ (Arnold, p. 69),
and he carries it away on the back of his horse Grani. Sigmund is
represented as the son of a Völsung; that is, as <i>Beowulf</i>
has it, ‘the heir of Waels.’ Waels was afterwards
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb206" href="#pb206">206</a>]</span>forgotten, however, and Waelsing was regarded as
a proper name instead of a patronymic denoting descent from Waels. In a
similar way, as Arnold points out, Sigmund is pushed into the
background to make room for his son Sigurd (Siegfried). ‘And so
in the German <i>Nibelungen Lay</i> it is Sigurd (Siegfried) who wins
the hoard, but does so by defeating and killing its former possessors
Schilbung and Nibelung’ (Arnold, p. 70). Attempts have been made
to claim a German origin for this saga, but in face of the evidence of
<i>Beowulf</i> and the <i>Völsunga</i> <i>Saga</i> and the
<i>Edda</i> there is, I think with Arnold, little doubt but that its
origin was Scandinavian. Possibly and probably we owe the later
elaboration of the saga in the <i>Nibelungen Lay</i> to German
influence. For discussion of the whole question see Arnold’s
<i>Notes on Beowulf</i>, pp. 67–75, Edit. 1898, cap. v.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app11" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">XI</h3>
<h3 class="main">TRIBES MENTIONED IN THE POEM</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">1. <i>Brondings.</i> Breca was a Bronding. After
his famous swimming-match with Beowulf (Chapter <a href=
"#s8">VIII</a>.), he is said to have sought out his ‘pleasant
fatherland the land of the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb207" href=
"#pb207">207</a>]</span>Brondings.’ Arnold suggests
that they were located in Mecklenburg or Pomerania.</p>
<p class="par">2. <i>Danes</i>, also called Bright-Danes, Ring-Danes,
Spear-Danes, because of their warlike character; and North Danes, South
Danes, &c., because of their wide distribution. They are said to
have inhabited the Scede lands and Scedenig and ‘between the
seas’; that is, they were spread over the Danish Islands, the
southern province of Sweden, and the seas between them.</p>
<p class="par">3. <i>Jutes</i> (Eotenas), probably people ruled over by
Finn, King of Friesland, and identical with the Frisians.</p>
<p class="par">4. <i>Franks</i> and Frisians. The Franks were ancestors
of the modern French. After the conversion of Clovis (<span class=
"sc">A.D.</span> 496), they gradually encroached on the Frisians.</p>
<p class="par">5. <i>Frisians</i> include the Frisians, the Franks, the
Hetware, and the Hugs. Friesland was the country between the River Ems
and the Zuyder Zee.</p>
<p class="par">6. <i>Geats.</i> They dwelt in the south of Sweden
between the Danes and the Swedes. Bugge sought to identify them with
the Jutes, and held that Gautland was Juteland. He based this theory on
certain phrases: e.g. Chapter <a href="#s33">XXXIII</a>., where the
Swedes (the sons of Ohthere) are said to have visited the <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb208" href="#pb208">208</a>]</span>Geats ‘across the sea,’ and again in
Chapter <a href="#s35">XXXV</a>. the Swedes and the Geats are said to
have fought ‘over wide water’; but, as Arnold points out,
these phrases can be interpreted in such a way as not to be
incompatible with the theory that they dwelt on the same side of the
Cattegat, i.e. on the northern side, and in the extreme south of
Sweden.</p>
<p class="par">The question as to whether they are identical with the
Goths of Roman history is still an open one. Arnold says, ‘There
is a great weight of evidence tending to identify the Geats with the
Goths,’ and he quotes evidence from Gibbon (chapter X.). Pytheas
of Marseilles, in the fourth century, says that, passing through the
Baltic Sea, he met with tribes of Goths, Teutons, and Ests.</p>
<p class="par">Tacitus, in chapter XLIII. of <i>Germania</i>, speaks of
the Goths as dwelling near the Swedes. Jornandes traces the Goths to
Scanzia, an island in the Northern Sea. It is probable, then, that the
Goths had a northern and indeed a Scandinavian origin. If so, Beowulf
the Geat was probably a Goth.</p>
<p class="par">7. <i>Healfdenes.</i> The tribe to which Hnaef
belonged.</p>
<p class="par">8. <i>Heathoremes.</i> The people on whose shores
Beowulf was cast up after his swimming-match with Breca. <span class=
"pagenum">[<a id="pb209" href="#pb209">209</a>]</span></p>
<p class="par">9. <i>Ingwine.</i> Friends of Ing—another name for
the Danes.</p>
<p class="par">10. <i>Scyldingas.</i> Another name for the Danes, as
descended from Scyld.</p>
<p class="par">11. <i>Scylfingas.</i> Name for the Swedes.</p>
<p class="par">12. <i>Waegmundings.</i> The tribe to which both Beowulf
and Wiglaf belonged.</p>
<p class="par">13. <i>Wylfings.</i> Probably a Gothic tribe.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="app12" class="div2 section"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h3 class="label">XII</h3>
<h3 class="main">PAGE 135</h3>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first">The text here is much mutilated, and can only be
restored by ingenious conjecture. Grein and Bugge and others have
reconstructed it. On the whole Bugge’s text, which I have
followed, seems to me the most reasonable. It is unfortunate that the
text should be so imperfect just at this critical point in the linking
up of the two great divisions of the story. In the ancient days some
remote predecessors of the Geats seem to have heaped up in the
neighbourhood a pile of wonderful vessels jewel-bedecked, and treasures
of all kinds, of inconceivable value. Then the last of the race carries
the treasure to a barrow or cavern in the cliffs near the site, in
after-generations, of Beowulf’s palace, and delivers a pathetic
farewell address (pp. 136 et seq.). The <span class="pagenum">[<a id=
"pb210" href="#pb210">210</a>]</span>dragon finds the
cavern and the treasure and appropriates it for three hundred years.
Then one of Beowulf’s retainers finds the treasure and takes a
golden goblet while the dragon is sleeping, and offers it to his lord
as a peace-offering. This brought about Beowulf’s feud with the
dragon in which he met his death. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb211"
href="#pb211">211</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div id="biblio" class="div1 bibliography"><span class=
"pagenum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">BOOKS CONSULTED</h2>
</div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first"><i>Beowulf</i>, edited with textual footnotes,
&c., by A. J. Wyatt, M.A. (Cantab. and London). Pitt Press,
Cambridge, 1898.</p>
<p class="par"><a class="pglink xd21e43" title=
"Link to Project Gutenberg ebook" href=
"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20431"><i>The Tale of Beowulf</i>,
sometime King of the Folk of the Weder-Geats</a>. Translated by William
Morris, A. J. Wyatt. 1898. Longmans.</p>
<p class="par"><i>Zupitza’s Transliteration of Beowulf.</i> A
photographic reproduction of the manuscript. Early English Text
Society.</p>
<p class="par"><i>Encyclopaedia Britannica.</i></p>
<p class="par"><i>Chambers’s Encyclopaedia.</i></p>
<p class="par"><i>Beowulf</i>, Notes on, by Thomas Arnold, M.A., 1898.
Longmans, Green & Co. This contains a good map of the scenes
alluded to in the poem.</p>
<p class="par"><i>History of Early English Literature</i>, by the Rev.
Stopford Brooke.</p>
<p class="par"><a class="pglink xd21e43" title=
"Link to Project Gutenberg ebook" href=
"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20406"><i>Epic and Romance</i></a>,
W. P. Ker.</p>
<p class="par">Ten Brink’s <i>English Literature.</i>
<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb212" href="#pb212">212</a>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1 imprint"><span class="pagenum">[<a href=
"#toc">Contents</a>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="par first xd21e2504">PRINTED BY<br>
HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br>
LONDON AND AYLESBURY.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1" id="toc">
<h2 class="main">Table of Contents</h2>
<table>
<tr>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="3"><a href="#note">NOTE AS TO USE OF
APPENDIX</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="3"><a href=
"#intro">INTRODUCTION</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#intro">7</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tocDivNum">I.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="3"><a href="#ch1">The Prelude</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#ch1">19</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tocDivNum">II.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="3"><a href="#ch2">The Story</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#ch2">23</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">I.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s1">I</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s1">23</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">II.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s2">II</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s2">27</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">III.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s3">III</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s3">31</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">IV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s4">IV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s4">34</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">V.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s5">V</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s5">37</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">VI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s6">VI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s6">40</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">VII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s7">VII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s7">44</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">VIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s8">VIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s8">47</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">IX.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s9">IX</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s9">50</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">X.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s10">X</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s10">55</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s11">XI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s11">57</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s12">XII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s12">61</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s13">XIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s13">63</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XIV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s14">XIV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s14">68</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s15">XV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s15">71</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XVI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s16">XVI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s16">74</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XVII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s17">XVII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s17">78</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XVIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s18">XVIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s18">82</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XIX.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s19">XIX</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s19">85</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XX.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s20">XX</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s20">89</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s21">XXI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s21">92</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s22">XXII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s22">97</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s23">XXIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s23">101</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXIV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s24">XXIV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s24">106</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s25">XXV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s25">110</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXVI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s26">XXVI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s26">114</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXVII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s27">XXVII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s27">118</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXVIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s28">XXVIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s28">122</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXIX.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s29">XXIX</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s29">126</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s31">XXXI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s31">131</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s32">XXXII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s32">135</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s33">XXXIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s33">140</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXIV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s34">XXXIV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s34">145</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s35">XXXV</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s35">149</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXVI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s36">XXXVI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s36">156</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXVII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s37">XXXVII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s37">161</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXVIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s38">XXXVIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s38">164</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XXXIX.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s39">XXXIX</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s39">168</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XL.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s40">XL</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s40">171</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XLI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s41">XLI</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s41">174</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XLII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s42">XLII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s42">180</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XLIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#s43">XLIII</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#s43">184</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="3"><a href=
"#appendices">APPENDICES</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href=
"#appendices">187</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">I.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app1">GENERAL NOTE ON THE
POEM</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app1">187</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"></td>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="1"><a href="#xd21e1640">SCANDINAVIAN
RECORDS.</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href=
"#xd21e1640">188</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"></td>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="1"><a href="#xd21e1700">FRENCH
RECORDS</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href=
"#xd21e1700">189</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td colspan="2"></td>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="1"><a href="#xd21e1734">ORIGIN OF THE
ANGLO-SAXON POEM</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href=
"#xd21e1734">190</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">II.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app2">THE
PRELUDE</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app2">193</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">III.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app3">‘BROSINGA
MENE’</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app3">195</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">IV.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app4">EORMANRIC</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app4">196</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">V.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app5">MARRIAGE OF
FREAWARU AND INGELD</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app5">199</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">VI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app6">FINN</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app6">200</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">VII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app7">HYGELAC</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app7">201</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">VIII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app8">HÆTHCYN AND
HEREBALD</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app8">203</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">IX.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app9">WARS BETWEEN THE
SWEDES AND THE GEATS</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app9">203</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">X.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app10">SIGMUND</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app10">205</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XI.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app11">TRIBES MENTIONED
IN THE POEM</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app11">206</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td></td>
<td class="tocDivNum">XII.</td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="2"><a href="#app12">PAGE 135</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#app12">209</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tocDivNum"></td>
<td class="tocDivTitle" colspan="3"><a href="#biblio">BOOKS
CONSULTED</a></td>
<td class="tocPageNum"><a class="pageref" href="#biblio">211</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<div class="transcribernote">
<h2 class="main">Colophon</h2>
<h3 class="main">Availability</h3>
<p class="par first">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no
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<p class="par">Scans for this book are available from the Internet
Archive (copy <a class="seclink xd21e43" title="External link" href=
"https://archive.org/details/storyofbeowulftr00kirt">1</a>).</p>
<p>Related Open Library catalog page (for source): <a class="catlink"
href="https://openlibrary.org/books/OL7145889M">OL7145889M</a>.</p>
<p>Related Open Library catalog page (for work): <a class="catlink"
href="https://openlibrary.org/works/OL16333220W">OL16333220W</a>.</p>
<p>Related WorldCat catalog page: <a class="catlink" href=
"https://www.worldcat.org/oclc/1150392">1150392</a>.</p>
<h3 class="main">Encoding</h3>
<p class="par first"></p>
<h3 class="main">Revision History</h3>
<ul>
<li>2015-12-19 Started.</li>
</ul>
<h3 class="main">External References</h3>
<p>This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These
links may not work for you.</p>
<h3 class="main">Corrections</h3>
<p>The following corrections have been applied to the text:</p>
<table class="correctiontable">
<tr>
<th>Page</th>
<th>Source</th>
<th>Correction</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd21e163">N.A.</a></td>
<td class="width40 bottom">,</td>
<td class="width40 bottom">[<i>Deleted</i>]</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd21e210">9</a>,
<a class="pageref" href="#xd21e1773">191</a></td>
<td class="width40 bottom">[<i>Not in source</i>]</td>
<td class="width40 bottom">.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd21e558">49</a></td>
<td class="width40 bottom">[<i>Not in source</i>]</td>
<td class="width40 bottom">’</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd21e1555">181</a></td>
<td class="width40 bottom">it</td>
<td class="width40 bottom">at</td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
</div>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50742 ***</div>
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