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diff --git a/old/bwulf11h.htm b/old/bwulf11h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..595c324 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bwulf11h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4227 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Beowulf</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Beowulf, by Anonymous</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Beowulf + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Beowulf + +Author: Anonymous + +Release Date: July, 1997 [EBook #981] +[This file was first posted on March 12, 2003] +[Most recently updated: June 29, 2004] + +Edition: 11 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> + +<p>Prepared by Robin Katsuya-Corbet (corbet@astro.psu.edu) from scanner +output provided by Internet Wiretap.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<p>BEOWULF<br />Translated by Gummere</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<p>BEOWULF<br />PRELUDE OF THE FOUNDER OF THE DANISH HOUSE</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings<br /> +of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,<br /> +we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!<br /> +Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,<br /> +from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,<br /> +awing the earls. Since erst he lay<br /> +friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:<br /> +for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,<br /> +till before him the folk, both far and near,<br /> +who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,<br /> +gave him gifts: a good king he!<br /> +To him an heir was afterward born,<br /> +a son in his halls, whom heaven sent<br /> +to favor the folk, feeling their woe<br /> +that erst they had lacked an earl for leader<br /> +so long a while; the Lord endowed him,<br /> +the Wielder of Wonder, with world’s renown.<br /> +Famed was this Beowulf: <a name="citation0a"></a><a href="#footnote0a">{0a}</a> +far flew the boast of him,<br /> +son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.<br /> +So becomes it a youth to quit him well<br /> +with his father’s friends, by fee and gift,<br /> +that to aid him, aged, in after days,<br /> +come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,<br /> +liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds<br /> +shall an earl have honor in every clan.</p> <p>Forth he fared at the fated moment,<br /> +sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.<br /> +Then they bore him over to ocean’s billow,<br /> +loving clansmen, as late he charged them,<br /> +while wielded words the winsome Scyld,<br /> +the leader beloved who long had ruled....<br /> +In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,<br /> +ice-flecked, outbound, atheling’s barge:<br /> +there laid they down their darling lord<br /> +on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings, <a name="citation0b"></a><a href="#footnote0b">{0b}</a><br /> +by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure<br /> +fetched from far was freighted with him.<br /> +No ship have I known so nobly dight<br /> +with weapons of war and weeds of battle,<br /> +with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay<br /> +a heaped hoard that hence should go<br /> +far o’er the flood with him floating away.<br /> +No less these loaded the lordly gifts,<br /> +thanes’ huge treasure, than those had done<br /> +who in former time forth had sent him<br /> +sole on the seas, a suckling child.<br /> +High o’er his head they hoist the standard,<br /> +a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,<br /> +gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,<br /> +mournful their mood. No man is able<br /> +to say in sooth, no son of the halls,<br /> +no hero ’neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>I</p> +<p>Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings,<br /> +leader beloved, and long he ruled<br /> +in fame with all folk, since his father had gone<br /> +away from the world, till awoke an heir,<br /> +haughty Healfdene, who held through life,<br /> +sage and sturdy, the Scyldings glad.<br /> +Then, one after one, there woke to him,<br /> +to the chieftain of clansmen, children four:<br /> +Heorogar, then Hrothgar, then Halga brave;<br /> +and I heard that -- was -- ’s queen,<br /> +the Heathoscylfing’s helpmate dear.<br /> +To Hrothgar was given such glory of war,<br /> +such honor of combat, that all his kin<br /> +obeyed him gladly till great grew his band<br /> +of youthful comrades. It came in his mind<br /> +to bid his henchmen a hall uprear,<br /> +a master mead-house, mightier far<br /> +than ever was seen by the sons of earth,<br /> +and within it, then, to old and young<br /> +he would all allot that the Lord had sent him,<br /> +save only the land and the lives of his men.<br /> +Wide, I heard, was the work commanded,<br /> +for many a tribe this mid-earth round,<br /> +to fashion the folkstead. It fell, as he ordered,<br /> +in rapid achievement that ready it stood there,<br /> +of halls the noblest: Heorot <a name="citation1a"></a><a href="#footnote1a">{1a}</a> he named it<br /> +whose message had might in many a land.<br /> +Not reckless of promise, the rings he dealt,<br /> +treasure at banquet: there towered the hall,<br /> +high, gabled wide, the hot surge waiting<br /> +of furious flame. <a name="citation1b"></a><a href="#footnote1b">{1b}</a> Nor far was that day<br /> +when father and son-in-law stood in feud<br /> +for warfare and hatred that woke again. <a name="citation1c"></a><a href="#footnote1c">{1c}</a><br /> +With envy and anger an evil spirit<br /> +endured the dole in his dark abode,<br /> +that he heard each day the din of revel<br /> +high in the hall: there harps rang out,<br /> +clear song of the singer. He sang who knew <a name="citation1d"></a><a href="#footnote1d">{1d}</a><br /> +tales of the early time of man,<br /> +how the Almighty made the earth,<br /> +fairest fields enfolded by water,<br /> +set, triumphant, sun and moon<br /> +for a light to lighten the land-dwellers,<br /> +and braided bright the breast of earth<br /> +with limbs and leaves, made life for all<br /> +of mortal beings that breathe and move.<br /> +So lived the clansmen in cheer and revel<br /> +a winsome life, till one began<br /> +to fashion evils, that field of hell.<br /> +Grendel this monster grim was called,<br /> +march-riever <a name="citation1e"></a><a href="#footnote1e">{1e}</a> mighty, in moorland living,<br /> +in fen and fastness; fief of the giants<br /> +the hapless wight a while had kept<br /> +since the Creator his exile doomed.<br /> +On kin of Cain was the killing avenged<br /> +by sovran God for slaughtered Abel.<br /> +Ill fared his feud, <a name="citation1f"></a><a href="#footnote1f">{1f}</a> and far was he driven,<br /> +for the slaughter’s sake, from sight of men.<br /> +Of Cain awoke all that woful breed,<br /> +Etins <a name="citation1g"></a><a href="#footnote1g">{1g}</a> and elves and evil-spirits,<br /> +as well as the giants that warred with God<br /> +weary while: but their wage was paid them!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>II</p> +<p>WENT he forth to find at fall of night<br /> +that haughty house, and heed wherever<br /> +the Ring-Danes, outrevelled, to rest had gone.<br /> +Found within it the atheling band<br /> +asleep after feasting and fearless of sorrow,<br /> +of human hardship. Unhallowed wight,<br /> +grim and greedy, he grasped betimes,<br /> +wrathful, reckless, from resting-places,<br /> +thirty of the thanes, and thence he rushed<br /> +fain of his fell spoil, faring homeward,<br /> +laden with slaughter, his lair to seek.<br /> +Then at the dawning, as day was breaking,<br /> +the might of Grendel to men was known;<br /> +then after wassail was wail uplifted,<br /> +loud moan in the morn. The mighty chief,<br /> +atheling excellent, unblithe sat,<br /> +labored in woe for the loss of his thanes,<br /> +when once had been traced the trail of the fiend,<br /> +spirit accurst: too cruel that sorrow,<br /> +too long, too loathsome. Not late the respite;<br /> +with night returning, anew began<br /> +ruthless murder; he recked no whit,<br /> +firm in his guilt, of the feud and crime.<br /> +They were easy to find who elsewhere sought<br /> +in room remote their rest at night,<br /> +bed in the bowers, <a name="citation2a"></a><a href="#footnote2a">{2a}</a> when that bale was shown,<br /> +was seen in sooth, with surest token, --<br /> +the hall-thane’s <a name="citation2b"></a><a href="#footnote2b">{2b}</a> hate. Such held themselves<br /> +far and fast who the fiend outran!<br /> +Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill<br /> +one against all; until empty stood<br /> +that lordly building, and long it bode so.<br /> +Twelve years’ tide the trouble he bore,<br /> +sovran of Scyldings, sorrows in plenty,<br /> +boundless cares. There came unhidden<br /> +tidings true to the tribes of men,<br /> +in sorrowful songs, how ceaselessly Grendel<br /> +harassed Hrothgar, what hate he bore him,<br /> +what murder and massacre, many a year,<br /> +feud unfading, -- refused consent<br /> +to deal with any of Daneland’s earls,<br /> +make pact of peace, or compound for gold:<br /> +still less did the wise men ween to get<br /> +great fee for the feud from his fiendish hands.<br /> +But the evil one ambushed old and young<br /> +death-shadow dark, and dogged them still,<br /> +lured, or lurked in the livelong night<br /> +of misty moorlands: men may say not<br /> +where the haunts of these Hell-Runes <a name="citation2c"></a><a href="#footnote2c">{2c}</a> be.<br /> +Such heaping of horrors the hater of men,<br /> +lonely roamer, wrought unceasing,<br /> +harassings heavy. O’er Heorot he lorded,<br /> +gold-bright hall, in gloomy nights;<br /> +and ne’er could the prince <a name="citation2d"></a><a href="#footnote2d">{2d}</a> approach his throne,<br /> +-- ’twas judgment of God, -- or have joy in his hall.<br /> +Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings’-friend,<br /> +heart-rending misery. Many nobles<br /> +sat assembled, and searched out counsel<br /> +how it were best for bold-hearted men<br /> +against harassing terror to try their hand.<br /> +Whiles they vowed in their heathen fanes<br /> +altar-offerings, asked with words <a name="citation2e"></a><a href="#footnote2e">{2e}</a><br /> +that the slayer-of-souls would succor give them<br /> +for the pain of their people. Their practice this,<br /> +their heathen hope; ’twas Hell they thought of<br /> +in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not,<br /> +Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord,<br /> +nor Heaven’s-Helmet heeded they ever,<br /> +Wielder-of-Wonder. -- Woe for that man<br /> +who in harm and hatred hales his soul<br /> +to fiery embraces; -- nor favor nor change<br /> +awaits he ever. But well for him<br /> +that after death-day may draw to his Lord,<br /> +and friendship find in the Father’s arms!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>III</p> +<p>THUS seethed unceasing the son of Healfdene<br /> +with the woe of these days; not wisest men<br /> +assuaged his sorrow; too sore the anguish,<br /> +loathly and long, that lay on his folk,<br /> +most baneful of burdens and bales of the night.</p> +<p>This heard in his home Hygelac’s thane,<br /> +great among Geats, of Grendel’s doings.<br /> +He was the mightiest man of valor<br /> +in that same day of this our life,<br /> +stalwart and stately. A stout wave-walker<br /> +he bade make ready. Yon battle-king, said he,<br /> +far o’er the swan-road he fain would seek,<br /> +the noble monarch who needed men!<br /> +The prince’s journey by prudent folk<br /> +was little blamed, though they loved him dear;<br /> +they whetted the hero, and hailed good omens.<br /> +And now the bold one from bands of Geats<br /> +comrades chose, the keenest of warriors<br /> +e’er he could find; with fourteen men<br /> +the sea-wood <a name="citation3a"></a><a href="#footnote3a">{3a}</a> he sought, and, sailor proved,<br /> +led them on to the land’s confines.<br /> +Time had now flown; <a name="citation3b"></a><a href="#footnote3b">{3b}</a> +afloat was the ship,<br /> +boat under bluff. On board they climbed,<br /> +warriors ready; waves were churning<br /> +sea with sand; the sailors bore<br /> +on the breast of the bark their bright array,<br /> +their mail and weapons: the men pushed off,<br /> +on its willing way, the well-braced craft.<br /> +Then moved o’er the waters by might of the wind<br /> +that bark like a bird with breast of foam,<br /> +till in season due, on the second day,<br /> +the curved prow such course had run<br /> +that sailors now could see the land,<br /> +sea-cliffs shining, steep high hills,<br /> +headlands broad. Their haven was found,<br /> +their journey ended. Up then quickly<br /> +the Weders’ <a name="citation3c"></a><a href="#footnote3c">{3c}</a> +clansmen climbed ashore,<br /> +anchored their sea-wood, with armor clashing<br /> +and gear of battle: God they thanked<br /> +or passing in peace o’er the paths of the sea.<br /> +Now saw from the cliff a Scylding clansman,<br /> +a warden that watched the water-side,<br /> +how they bore o’er the gangway glittering shields,<br /> +war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him<br /> +to know what manner of men they were.<br /> +Straight to the strand his steed he rode,<br /> +Hrothgar’s henchman; with hand of might<br /> +he shook his spear, and spake in parley.<br /> +“Who are ye, then, ye armed men,<br /> +mailed folk, that yon mighty vessel<br /> +have urged thus over the ocean ways,<br /> +here o’er the waters? A warden I,<br /> +sentinel set o’er the sea-march here,<br /> +lest any foe to the folk of Danes<br /> +with harrying fleet should harm the land.<br /> +No aliens ever at ease thus bore them,<br /> +linden-wielders: <a name="citation3d"></a><a href="#footnote3d">{3d}</a> yet word-of-leave<br /> +clearly ye lack from clansmen here,<br /> +my folk’s agreement. -- A greater ne’er saw I<br /> +of warriors in world than is one of you, --<br /> +yon hero in harness! No henchman he<br /> +worthied by weapons, if witness his features,<br /> +his peerless presence! I pray you, though, tell<br /> +your folk and home, lest hence ye fare<br /> +suspect to wander your way as spies<br /> +in Danish land. Now, dwellers afar,<br /> +ocean-travellers, take from me<br /> +simple advice: the sooner the better<br /> +I hear of the country whence ye came.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>IV</p> +<p>To him the stateliest spake in answer;<br /> +the warriors’ leader his word-hoard unlocked: --<br /> +“We are by kin of the clan of Geats,<br /> +and Hygelac’s own hearth-fellows we.<br /> +To folk afar was my father known,<br /> +noble atheling, Ecgtheow named.<br /> +Full of winters, he fared away<br /> +aged from earth; he is honored still<br /> +through width of the world by wise men all.<br /> +To thy lord and liege in loyal mood<br /> +we hasten hither, to Healfdene’s son,<br /> +people-protector: be pleased to advise us!<br /> +To that mighty-one come we on mickle errand,<br /> +to the lord of the Danes; nor deem I right<br /> +that aught be hidden. We hear -- thou knowest<br /> +if sooth it is -- the saying of men,<br /> +that amid the Scyldings a scathing monster,<br /> +dark ill-doer, in dusky nights<br /> +shows terrific his rage unmatched,<br /> +hatred and murder. To Hrothgar I<br /> +in greatness of soul would succor bring,<br /> +so the Wise-and-Brave <a name="citation4a"></a><a href="#footnote4a">{4a}</a> +may worst his foes, --<br /> +if ever the end of ills is fated,<br /> +of cruel contest, if cure shall follow,<br /> +and the boiling care-waves cooler grow;<br /> +else ever afterward anguish-days<br /> +he shall suffer in sorrow while stands in place<br /> +high on its hill that house unpeered!”<br /> +Astride his steed, the strand-ward answered,<br /> +clansman unquailing: “The keen-souled thane<br /> +must be skilled to sever and sunder duly<br /> +words and works, if he well intends.<br /> +I gather, this band is graciously bent<br /> +to the Scyldings’ master. March, then, bearing<br /> +weapons and weeds the way I show you.<br /> +I will bid my men your boat meanwhile<br /> +to guard for fear lest foemen come, --<br /> +your new-tarred ship by shore of ocean<br /> +faithfully watching till once again<br /> +it waft o’er the waters those well-loved thanes,<br /> +-- winding-neck’d wood, -- to Weders’ bounds,<br /> +heroes such as the hest of fate<br /> +shall succor and save from the shock of war.”<br /> +They bent them to march, -- the boat lay still,<br /> +fettered by cable and fast at anchor,<br /> +broad-bosomed ship. -- Then shone the boars <a name="citation4b"></a><a href="#footnote4b">{4b}</a><br /> +over the cheek-guard; chased with gold,<br /> +keen and gleaming, guard it kept<br /> +o’er the man of war, as marched along<br /> +heroes in haste, till the hall they saw,<br /> +broad of gable and bright with gold:<br /> +that was the fairest, ’mid folk of earth,<br /> +of houses ’neath heaven, where Hrothgar lived,<br /> +and the gleam of it lightened o’er lands afar.<br /> +The sturdy shieldsman showed that bright<br /> +burg-of-the-boldest; bade them go<br /> +straightway thither; his steed then turned,<br /> +hardy hero, and hailed them thus: --<br /> +“’Tis time that I fare from you. Father Almighty<br /> +in grace and mercy guard you well,<br /> +safe in your seekings. Seaward I go,<br /> +’gainst hostile warriors hold my watch.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>V</p> +<p>STONE-BRIGHT the street: <a name="citation5a"></a><a href="#footnote5a">{5a}</a> +it showed the way<br /> +to the crowd of clansmen. Corselets glistened<br /> +hand-forged, hard; on their harness bright<br /> +the steel ring sang, as they strode along<br /> +in mail of battle, and marched to the hall.<br /> +There, weary of ocean, the wall along<br /> +they set their bucklers, their broad shields, down,<br /> +and bowed them to bench: the breastplates clanged,<br /> +war-gear of men; their weapons stacked,<br /> +spears of the seafarers stood together,<br /> +gray-tipped ash: that iron band<br /> +was worthily weaponed! -- A warrior proud<br /> +asked of the heroes their home and kin.<br /> +“Whence, now, bear ye burnished shields,<br /> +harness gray and helmets grim,<br /> +spears in multitude? Messenger, I,<br /> +Hrothgar’s herald! Heroes so many<br /> +ne’er met I as strangers of mood so strong.<br /> +’Tis plain that for prowess, not plunged into exile,<br /> +for high-hearted valor, Hrothgar ye seek!”<br /> +Him the sturdy-in-war bespake with words,<br /> +proud earl of the Weders answer made,<br /> +hardy ’neath helmet: -- “Hygelac’s, we,<br /> +fellows at board; I am Beowulf named.<br /> +I am seeking to say to the son of Healfdene<br /> +this mission of mine, to thy master-lord,<br /> +the doughty prince, if he deign at all<br /> +grace that we greet him, the good one, now.”<br /> +Wulfgar spake, the Wendles’ chieftain,<br /> +whose might of mind to many was known,<br /> +his courage and counsel: “The king of Danes,<br /> +the Scyldings’ friend, I fain will tell,<br /> +the Breaker-of-Rings, as the boon thou askest,<br /> +the famed prince, of thy faring hither,<br /> +and, swiftly after, such answer bring<br /> +as the doughty monarch may deign to give.”<br /> +Hied then in haste to where Hrothgar sat<br /> +white-haired and old, his earls about him,<br /> +till the stout thane stood at the shoulder there<br /> +of the Danish king: good courtier he!<br /> +Wulfgar spake to his winsome lord: --<br /> +“Hither have fared to thee far-come men<br /> +o’er the paths of ocean, people of Geatland;<br /> +and the stateliest there by his sturdy band<br /> +is Beowulf named. This boon they seek,<br /> +that they, my master, may with thee<br /> +have speech at will: nor spurn their prayer<br /> +to give them hearing, gracious Hrothgar!<br /> +In weeds of the warrior worthy they,<br /> +methinks, of our liking; their leader most surely,<br /> +a hero that hither his henchmen has led.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>VI</p> +<p>HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings: --<br /> +“I knew him of yore in his youthful days;<br /> +his aged father was Ecgtheow named,<br /> +to whom, at home, gave Hrethel the Geat<br /> +his only daughter. Their offspring bold<br /> +fares hither to seek the steadfast friend.<br /> +And seamen, too, have said me this, --<br /> +who carried my gifts to the Geatish court,<br /> +thither for thanks, -- he has thirty men’s<br /> +heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand,<br /> +the bold-in-battle. Blessed God<br /> +out of his mercy this man hath sent<br /> +to Danes of the West, as I ween indeed,<br /> +against horror of Grendel. I hope to give<br /> +the good youth gold for his gallant thought.<br /> +Be thou in haste, and bid them hither,<br /> +clan of kinsmen, to come before me;<br /> +and add this word, -- they are welcome guests<br /> +to folk of the Danes.”<br /> +[To the door of the hall<br /> +Wulfgar went] and the word declared: --<br /> +“To you this message my master sends,<br /> +East-Danes’ king, that your kin he knows,<br /> +hardy heroes, and hails you all<br /> +welcome hither o’er waves of the sea!<br /> +Ye may wend your way in war-attire,<br /> +and under helmets Hrothgar greet;<br /> +but let here the battle-shields bide your parley,<br /> +and wooden war-shafts wait its end.”<br /> +Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men,<br /> +brave band of thanes: some bode without,<br /> +battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief.<br /> +Then hied that troop where the herald led them,<br /> +under Heorot’s roof: [the hero strode,]<br /> +hardy ’neath helm, till the hearth he neared.<br /> +Beowulf spake, -- his breastplate gleamed,<br /> +war-net woven by wit of the smith: --<br /> +“Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac’s I,<br /> +kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty<br /> +have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds<br /> +I heard in my home-land heralded clear.<br /> +Seafarers say how stands this hall,<br /> +of buildings best, for your band of thanes<br /> +empty and idle, when evening sun<br /> +in the harbor of heaven is hidden away.<br /> +So my vassals advised me well, --<br /> +brave and wise, the best of men, --<br /> +O sovran Hrothgar, to seek thee here,<br /> +for my nerve and my might they knew full well.<br /> +Themselves had seen me from slaughter come<br /> +blood-flecked from foes, where five I bound,<br /> +and that wild brood worsted. I’ the waves I slew<br /> +nicors <a name="citation6a"></a><a href="#footnote6a">{6a}</a> by night, in need and peril<br /> +avenging the Weders, <a name="citation6b"></a><a href="#footnote6b">{6b}</a> whose woe they sought, --<br /> +crushing the grim ones. Grendel now,<br /> +monster cruel, be mine to quell<br /> +in single battle! So, from thee,<br /> +thou sovran of the Shining-Danes,<br /> +Scyldings’-bulwark, a boon I seek, --<br /> +and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not,<br /> +O Warriors’-shield, now I’ve wandered far, --<br /> +that I alone with my liegemen here,<br /> +this hardy band, may Heorot purge!<br /> +More I hear, that the monster dire,<br /> +in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not;<br /> +hence shall I scorn -- so Hygelac stay,<br /> +king of my kindred, kind to me! --<br /> +brand or buckler to bear in the fight,<br /> +gold-colored targe: but with gripe alone<br /> +must I front the fiend and fight for life,<br /> +foe against foe. Then faith be his<br /> +in the doom of the Lord whom death shall take.<br /> +Fain, I ween, if the fight he win,<br /> +in this hall of gold my Geatish band<br /> +will he fearless eat, -- as oft before, --<br /> +my noblest thanes. Nor need’st thou then<br /> +to hide my head; <a name="citation6c"></a><a href="#footnote6c">{6c}</a> for his shall I be,<br /> +dyed in gore, if death must take me;<br /> +and my blood-covered body he’ll bear as prey,<br /> +ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely,<br /> +with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen:<br /> +no further for me need’st food prepare!<br /> +To Hygelac send, if Hild <a name="citation6d"></a><a href="#footnote6d">{6d}</a> +should take me,<br /> +best of war-weeds, warding my breast,<br /> +armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel<br /> +and work of Wayland. <a name="citation6e"></a><a href="#footnote6e">{6e}</a> Fares Wyrd <a name="citation6f"></a><a href="#footnote6f">{6f}</a> as she must.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>VII</p> +<p>HROTHGAR spake, the Scyldings’-helmet: --<br /> +“For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf,<br /> +to succor and save, thou hast sought us here.<br /> +Thy father’s combat <a name="citation7a"></a><a href="#footnote7a">{7a}</a> a feud enkindled<br /> +when Heatholaf with hand he slew<br /> +among the Wylfings; his Weder kin<br /> +for horror of fighting feared to hold him.<br /> +Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk,<br /> +over surge of ocean the Honor-Scyldings,<br /> +when first I was ruling the folk of Danes,<br /> +wielded, youthful, this widespread realm,<br /> +this hoard-hold of heroes. Heorogar was dead,<br /> +my elder brother, had breathed his last,<br /> +Healfdene’s bairn: he was better than I!<br /> +Straightway the feud with fee <a name="citation7b"></a><a href="#footnote7b">{7b}</a> I settled,<br /> +to the Wylfings sent, o’er watery ridges,<br /> +treasures olden: oaths he <a name="citation7c"></a><a href="#footnote7c">{7c}</a> +swore me.<br /> +Sore is my soul to say to any<br /> +of the race of man what ruth for me<br /> +in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought,<br /> +what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me,<br /> +my warriors wane; for Wyrd hath swept them<br /> +into Grendel’s grasp. But God is able<br /> +this deadly foe from his deeds to turn!<br /> +Boasted full oft, as my beer they drank,<br /> +earls o’er the ale-cup, armed men,<br /> +that they would bide in the beer-hall here,<br /> +Grendel’s attack with terror of blades.<br /> +Then was this mead-house at morning tide<br /> +dyed with gore, when the daylight broke,<br /> +all the boards of the benches blood-besprinkled,<br /> +gory the hall: I had heroes the less,<br /> +doughty dear-ones that death had reft.<br /> +-- But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words,<br /> +hardy hero, as heart shall prompt thee.”</p> <p>Gathered together, the Geatish men<br /> +in the banquet-hall on bench assigned,<br /> +sturdy-spirited, sat them down,<br /> +hardy-hearted. A henchman attended,<br /> +carried the carven cup in hand,<br /> +served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang<br /> +blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,<br /> +no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>VIII</p> +<p>UNFERTH spake, the son of Ecglaf,<br /> +who sat at the feet of the Scyldings’ lord,<br /> +unbound the battle-runes. <a name="citation8a"></a><a href="#footnote8a">{8a}</a> -- Beowulf’s quest,<br /> +sturdy seafarer’s, sorely galled him;<br /> +ever he envied that other men<br /> +should more achieve in middle-earth<br /> +of fame under heaven than he himself. --<br /> +“Art thou that Beowulf, Breca’s rival,<br /> +who emulous swam on the open sea,<br /> +when for pride the pair of you proved the floods,<br /> +and wantonly dared in waters deep<br /> +to risk your lives? No living man,<br /> +or lief or loath, from your labor dire<br /> +could you dissuade, from swimming the main.<br /> +Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered,<br /> +with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured,<br /> +swam o’er the waters. Winter’s storm<br /> +rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea<br /> +a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee,<br /> +had more of main! Him at morning-tide<br /> +billows bore to the Battling Reamas,<br /> +whence he hied to his home so dear<br /> +beloved of his liegemen, to land of Brondings,<br /> +fastness fair, where his folk he ruled,<br /> +town and treasure. In triumph o’er thee<br /> +Beanstan’s bairn <a name="citation8b"></a><a href="#footnote8b">{8b}</a> his boast achieved.<br /> +So ween I for thee a worse adventure<br /> +-- though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been,<br /> +in struggle grim, -- if Grendel’s approach<br /> +thou darst await through the watch of night!”</p> +<p>Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“What a deal hast uttered, dear my Unferth,<br /> +drunken with beer, of Breca now,<br /> +told of his triumph! Truth I claim it,<br /> +that I had more of might in the sea<br /> +than any man else, more ocean-endurance.<br /> +We twain had talked, in time of youth,<br /> +and made our boast, -- we were merely boys,<br /> +striplings still, -- to stake our lives<br /> +far at sea: and so we performed it.<br /> +Naked swords, as we swam along,<br /> +we held in hand, with hope to guard us<br /> +against the whales. Not a whit from me<br /> +could he float afar o’er the flood of waves,<br /> +haste o’er the billows; nor him I abandoned.<br /> +Together we twain on the tides abode<br /> +five nights full till the flood divided us,<br /> +churning waves and chillest weather,<br /> +darkling night, and the northern wind<br /> +ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge.<br /> +Now the wrath of the sea-fish rose apace;<br /> +yet me ’gainst the monsters my mailed coat,<br /> +hard and hand-linked, help afforded, --<br /> +battle-sark braided my breast to ward,<br /> +garnished with gold. There grasped me firm<br /> +and haled me to bottom the hated foe,<br /> +with grimmest gripe. ’Twas granted me, though,<br /> +to pierce the monster with point of sword,<br /> +with blade of battle: huge beast of the sea<br /> +was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>IX</p> +<p>ME thus often the evil monsters<br /> +thronging threatened. With thrust of my sword,<br /> +the darling, I dealt them due return!<br /> +Nowise had they bliss from their booty then<br /> +to devour their victim, vengeful creatures,<br /> +seated to banquet at bottom of sea;<br /> +but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt,<br /> +on the edge of ocean up they lay,<br /> +put to sleep by the sword. And since, by them<br /> +on the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folk<br /> +are never molested. -- Light from east,<br /> +came bright God’s beacon; the billows sank,<br /> +so that I saw the sea-cliffs high,<br /> +windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth<br /> +earl undoomed if he doughty be!<br /> +And so it came that I killed with my sword<br /> +nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles<br /> +ne’er heard I a harder ’neath heaven’s dome,<br /> +nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man!<br /> +Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch,<br /> +though spent with swimming. The sea upbore me,<br /> +flood of the tide, on Finnish land,<br /> +the welling waters. No wise of thee<br /> +have I heard men tell such terror of falchions,<br /> +bitter battle. Breca ne’er yet,<br /> +not one of you pair, in the play of war<br /> +such daring deed has done at all<br /> +with bloody brand, -- I boast not of it! --<br /> +though thou wast the bane <a name="citation9a"></a><a href="#footnote9a">{9a}</a> +of thy brethren dear,<br /> +thy closest kin, whence curse of hell<br /> +awaits thee, well as thy wit may serve!<br /> +For I say in sooth, thou son of Ecglaf,<br /> +never had Grendel these grim deeds wrought,<br /> +monster dire, on thy master dear,<br /> +in Heorot such havoc, if heart of thine<br /> +were as battle-bold as thy boast is loud!<br /> +But he has found no feud will happen;<br /> +from sword-clash dread of your Danish clan<br /> +he vaunts him safe, from the Victor-Scyldings.<br /> +He forces pledges, favors none<br /> +of the land of Danes, but lustily murders,<br /> +fights and feasts, nor feud he dreads<br /> +from Spear-Dane men. But speedily now<br /> +shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats,<br /> +shall bid him battle. Blithe to mead<br /> +go he that listeth, when light of dawn<br /> +this morrow morning o’er men of earth,<br /> +ether-robed sun from the south shall beam!”<br /> +Joyous then was the Jewel-giver,<br /> +hoar-haired, war-brave; help awaited<br /> +the Bright-Danes’ prince, from Beowulf hearing,<br /> +folk’s good shepherd, such firm resolve.<br /> +Then was laughter of liegemen loud resounding<br /> +with winsome words. Came Wealhtheow forth,<br /> +queen of Hrothgar, heedful of courtesy,<br /> +gold-decked, greeting the guests in hall;<br /> +and the high-born lady handed the cup<br /> +first to the East-Danes’ heir and warden,<br /> +bade him be blithe at the beer-carouse,<br /> +the land’s beloved one. Lustily took he<br /> +banquet and beaker, battle-famed king.</p> <p>Through the hall then went the Helmings’ Lady,<br /> +to younger and older everywhere<br /> +carried the cup, till come the moment<br /> +when the ring-graced queen, the royal-hearted,<br /> +to Beowulf bore the beaker of mead.<br /> +She greeted the Geats’ lord, God she thanked,<br /> +in wisdom’s words, that her will was granted,<br /> +that at last on a hero her hope could lean<br /> +for comfort in terrors. The cup he took,<br /> +hardy-in-war, from Wealhtheow’s hand,<br /> +and answer uttered the eager-for-combat.<br /> +Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“This was my thought, when my thanes and I<br /> +bent to the ocean and entered our boat,<br /> +that I would work the will of your people<br /> +fully, or fighting fall in death,<br /> +in fiend’s gripe fast. I am firm to do<br /> +an earl’s brave deed, or end the days<br /> +of this life of mine in the mead-hall here.”<br /> +Well these words to the woman seemed,<br /> +Beowulf’s battle-boast. -- Bright with gold<br /> +the stately dame by her spouse sat down.<br /> +Again, as erst, began in hall<br /> +warriors’ wassail and words of power,<br /> +the proud-band’s revel, till presently<br /> +the son of Healfdene hastened to seek<br /> +rest for the night; he knew there waited<br /> +fight for the fiend in that festal hall,<br /> +when the sheen of the sun they saw no more,<br /> +and dusk of night sank darkling nigh,<br /> +and shadowy shapes came striding on,<br /> +wan under welkin. The warriors rose.<br /> +Man to man, he made harangue,<br /> +Hrothgar to Beowulf, bade him hail,<br /> +let him wield the wine hall: a word he added: --<br /> +“Never to any man erst I trusted,<br /> +since I could heave up hand and shield,<br /> +this noble Dane-Hall, till now to thee.<br /> +Have now and hold this house unpeered;<br /> +remember thy glory; thy might declare;<br /> +watch for the foe! No wish shall fail thee<br /> +if thou bidest the battle with bold-won life.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>X</p> +<p>THEN Hrothgar went with his hero-train,<br /> +defence-of-Scyldings, forth from hall;<br /> +fain would the war-lord Wealhtheow seek,<br /> +couch of his queen. The King-of-Glory<br /> +against this Grendel a guard had set,<br /> +so heroes heard, a hall-defender,<br /> +who warded the monarch and watched for the monster.<br /> +In truth, the Geats’ prince gladly trusted<br /> +his mettle, his might, the mercy of God!<br /> +Cast off then his corselet of iron,<br /> +helmet from head; to his henchman gave, --<br /> +choicest of weapons, -- the well-chased sword,<br /> +bidding him guard the gear of battle.<br /> +Spake then his Vaunt the valiant man,<br /> +Beowulf Geat, ere the bed be sought: --<br /> +“Of force in fight no feebler I count me,<br /> +in grim war-deeds, than Grendel deems him.<br /> +Not with the sword, then, to sleep of death<br /> +his life will I give, though it lie in my power.<br /> +No skill is his to strike against me,<br /> +my shield to hew though he hardy be,<br /> +bold in battle; we both, this night,<br /> +shall spurn the sword, if he seek me here,<br /> +unweaponed, for war. Let wisest God,<br /> +sacred Lord, on which side soever<br /> +doom decree as he deemeth right.”<br /> +Reclined then the chieftain, and cheek-pillows held<br /> +the head of the earl, while all about him<br /> +seamen hardy on hall-beds sank.<br /> +None of them thought that thence their steps<br /> +to the folk and fastness that fostered them,<br /> +to the land they loved, would lead them back!<br /> +Full well they wist that on warriors many<br /> +battle-death seized, in the banquet-hall,<br /> +of Danish clan. But comfort and help,<br /> +war-weal weaving, to Weder folk<br /> +the Master gave, that, by might of one,<br /> +over their enemy all prevailed,<br /> +by single strength. In sooth ’tis told<br /> +that highest God o’er human kind<br /> +hath wielded ever! -- Thro’ wan night striding,<br /> +came the walker-in-shadow. Warriors slept<br /> +whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, --<br /> +all save one. ’Twas widely known<br /> +that against God’s will the ghostly ravager<br /> +him <a name="citation10a"></a><a href="#footnote10a">{10a}</a> could not hurl to haunts of darkness;<br /> +wakeful, ready, with warrior’s wrath,<br /> +bold he bided the battle’s issue.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XI</p> +<p>THEN from the moorland, by misty crags,<br /> +with God’s wrath laden, Grendel came.<br /> +The monster was minded of mankind now<br /> +sundry to seize in the stately house.<br /> +Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,<br /> +gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,<br /> +flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,<br /> +that he the home of Hrothgar sought, --<br /> +yet ne’er in his life-day, late or early,<br /> +such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!<br /> +To the house the warrior walked apace,<br /> +parted from peace; <a name="citation11a"></a><a href="#footnote11a">{11a}</a> the portal opended,<br /> +though with forged bolts fast, when his fists had<br /> +struck it,<br /> +and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,<br /> +the house’s mouth. All hastily, then,<br /> +o’er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,<br /> +ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyes<br /> +fearful flashes, like flame to see.</p> +<p>He spied in hall the hero-band,<br /> +kin and clansmen clustered asleep,<br /> +hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;<br /> +for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,<br /> +savage, to sever the soul of each,<br /> +life from body, since lusty banquet<br /> +waited his will! But Wyrd forbade him<br /> +to seize any more of men on earth<br /> +after that evening. Eagerly watched<br /> +Hygelac’s kinsman his cursed foe,<br /> +how he would fare in fell attack.<br /> +Not that the monster was minded to pause!<br /> +Straightway he seized a sleeping warrior<br /> +for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,<br /> +the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,<br /> +swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus<br /> +the lifeless corse was clear devoured,<br /> +e’en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;<br /> +for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,<br /> +felt for the foe with fiendish claw,<br /> +for the hero reclining, -- who clutched it boldly,<br /> +prompt to answer, propped on his arm.<br /> +Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evils<br /> +that never he met in this middle-world,<br /> +in the ways of earth, another wight<br /> +with heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,<br /> +sorrowed in soul, -- none the sooner escaped!<br /> +Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,<br /> +the den of devils: no doings now<br /> +such as oft he had done in days of old!<br /> +Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thane<br /> +of his boast at evening: up he bounded,<br /> +grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.<br /> +The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.<br /> +The monster meant -- if he might at all --<br /> +to fling himself free, and far away<br /> +fly to the fens, -- knew his fingers’ power<br /> +in the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome march<br /> +to Heorot this monster of harm had made!<br /> +Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,<br /> +castle-dwellers and clansmen all,<br /> +earls, of their ale. Angry were both<br /> +those savage hall-guards: the house resounded.<br /> +Wonder it was the wine-hall firm<br /> +in the strain of their struggle stood, to earth<br /> +the fair house fell not; too fast it was<br /> +within and without by its iron bands<br /> +craftily clamped; though there crashed from sill<br /> +many a mead-bench -- men have told me --<br /> +gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.<br /> +So well had weened the wisest Scyldings<br /> +that not ever at all might any man<br /> +that bone-decked, brave house break asunder,<br /> +crush by craft, -- unless clasp of fire<br /> +in smoke engulfed it. -- Again uprose<br /> +din redoubled. Danes of the North<br /> +with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,<br /> +who from the wall that wailing heard,<br /> +God’s foe sounding his grisly song,<br /> +cry of the conquered, clamorous pain<br /> +from captive of hell. Too closely held him<br /> +he who of men in might was strongest<br /> +in that same day of this our life.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XII</p> +<p>NOT in any wise would the earls’-defence <a name="citation12a"></a><a href="#footnote12a">{12a}</a><br /> +suffer that slaughterous stranger to live,<br /> +useless deeming his days and years<br /> +to men on earth. Now many an earl<br /> +of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral,<br /> +fain the life of their lord to shield,<br /> +their praised prince, if power were theirs;<br /> +never they knew, -- as they neared the foe,<br /> +hardy-hearted heroes of war,<br /> +aiming their swords on every side<br /> +the accursed to kill, -- no keenest blade,<br /> +no farest of falchions fashioned on earth,<br /> +could harm or hurt that hideous fiend!<br /> +He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle,<br /> +from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting<br /> +on that same day of this our life<br /> +woful should be, and his wandering soul<br /> +far off flit to the fiends’ domain.<br /> +Soon he found, who in former days,<br /> +harmful in heart and hated of God,<br /> +on many a man such murder wrought,<br /> +that the frame of his body failed him now.<br /> +For him the keen-souled kinsman of Hygelac<br /> +held in hand; hateful alive<br /> +was each to other. The outlaw dire<br /> +took mortal hurt; a mighty wound<br /> +showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked,<br /> +and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now<br /> +the glory was given, and Grendel thence<br /> +death-sick his den in the dark moor sought,<br /> +noisome abode: he knew too well<br /> +that here was the last of life, an end<br /> +of his days on earth. -- To all the Danes<br /> +by that bloody battle the boon had come.<br /> +From ravage had rescued the roving stranger<br /> +Hrothgar’s hall; the hardy and wise one<br /> +had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him,<br /> +his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes<br /> +had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good,<br /> +all their sorrow and ills assuaged,<br /> +their bale of battle borne so long,<br /> +and all the dole they erst endured<br /> +pain a-plenty. -- ’Twas proof of this,<br /> +when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down,<br /> +arm and shoulder, -- all, indeed,<br /> +of Grendel’s gripe, -- ’neath the gabled roof.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XIII</p> +<p>MANY at morning, as men have told me,<br /> +warriors gathered the gift-hall round,<br /> +folk-leaders faring from far and near,<br /> +o’er wide-stretched ways, the wonder to view,<br /> +trace of the traitor. Not troublous seemed<br /> +the enemy’s end to any man<br /> +who saw by the gait of the graceless foe<br /> +how the weary-hearted, away from thence,<br /> +baffled in battle and banned, his steps<br /> +death-marked dragged to the devils’ mere.<br /> +Bloody the billows were boiling there,<br /> +turbid the tide of tumbling waves<br /> +horribly seething, with sword-blood hot,<br /> +by that doomed one dyed, who in den of the moor<br /> +laid forlorn his life adown,<br /> +his heathen soul, and hell received it.<br /> +Home then rode the hoary clansmen<br /> +from that merry journey, and many a youth,<br /> +on horses white, the hardy warriors,<br /> +back from the mere. Then Beowulf’s glory<br /> +eager they echoed, and all averred<br /> +that from sea to sea, or south or north,<br /> +there was no other in earth’s domain,<br /> +under vault of heaven, more valiant found,<br /> +of warriors none more worthy to rule!<br /> +(On their lord beloved they laid no slight,<br /> +gracious Hrothgar: a good king he!)<br /> +From time to time, the tried-in-battle<br /> +their gray steeds set to gallop amain,<br /> +and ran a race when the road seemed fair.<br /> +From time to time, a thane of the king,<br /> +who had made many vaunts, and was mindful of verses,<br /> +stored with sagas and songs of old,<br /> +bound word to word in well-knit rime,<br /> +welded his lay; this warrior soon<br /> +of Beowulf’s quest right cleverly sang,<br /> +and artfully added an excellent tale,<br /> +in well-ranged words, of the warlike deeds<br /> +he had heard in saga of Sigemund.<br /> +Strange the story: he said it all, --<br /> +the Waelsing’s wanderings wide, his struggles,<br /> +which never were told to tribes of men,<br /> +the feuds and the frauds, save to Fitela only,<br /> +when of these doings he deigned to speak,<br /> +uncle to nephew; as ever the twain<br /> +stood side by side in stress of war,<br /> +and multitude of the monster kind<br /> +they had felled with their swords. Of Sigemund grew,<br /> +when he passed from life, no little praise;<br /> +for the doughty-in-combat a dragon killed<br /> +that herded the hoard: <a name="citation13a"></a><a href="#footnote13a">{13a}</a> under hoary rock<br /> +the atheling dared the deed alone<br /> +fearful quest, nor was Fitela there.<br /> +Yet so it befell, his falchion pierced<br /> +that wondrous worm, -- on the wall it struck,<br /> +best blade; the dragon died in its blood.<br /> +Thus had the dread-one by daring achieved<br /> +over the ring-hoard to rule at will,<br /> +himself to pleasure; a sea-boat he loaded,<br /> +and bore on its bosom the beaming gold,<br /> +son of Waels; the worm was consumed.<br /> +He had of all heroes the highest renown<br /> +among races of men, this refuge-of-warriors,<br /> +for deeds of daring that decked his name<br /> +since the hand and heart of Heremod<br /> +grew slack in battle. He, swiftly banished<br /> +to mingle with monsters at mercy of foes,<br /> +to death was betrayed; for torrents of sorrow<br /> +had lamed him too long; a load of care<br /> +to earls and athelings all he proved.<br /> +Oft indeed, in earlier days,<br /> +for the warrior’s wayfaring wise men mourned,<br /> +who had hoped of him help from harm and bale,<br /> +and had thought their sovran’s son would thrive,<br /> +follow his father, his folk protect,<br /> +the hoard and the stronghold, heroes’ land,<br /> +home of Scyldings. -- But here, thanes said,<br /> +the kinsman of Hygelac kinder seemed<br /> +to all: the other <a name="citation13b"></a><a href="#footnote13b">{13b}</a> was urged to crime!<br /> +And afresh to the race, <a name="citation13c"></a><a href="#footnote13c">{13c}</a> the fallow roads<br /> +by swift steeds measured! The morning sun<br /> +was climbing higher. Clansmen hastened<br /> +to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,<br /> +the wonder to witness. Warden of treasure,<br /> +crowned with glory, the king himself,<br /> +with stately band from the bride-bower strode;<br /> +and with him the queen and her crowd of maidens<br /> +measured the path to the mead-house fair.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XIV</p> +<p>HROTHGAR spake, -- to the hall he went,<br /> +stood by the steps, the steep roof saw,<br /> +garnished with gold, and Grendel’s hand: --<br /> +“For the sight I see to the Sovran Ruler<br /> +be speedy thanks! A throng of sorrows<br /> +I have borne from Grendel; but God still works<br /> +wonder on wonder, the Warden-of-Glory.<br /> +It was but now that I never more<br /> +for woes that weighed on me waited help<br /> +long as I lived, when, laved in blood,<br /> +stood sword-gore-stained this stateliest house, --<br /> +widespread woe for wise men all,<br /> +who had no hope to hinder ever<br /> +foes infernal and fiendish sprites<br /> +from havoc in hall. This hero now,<br /> +by the Wielder’s might, a work has done<br /> +that not all of us erst could ever do<br /> +by wile and wisdom. Lo, well can she say<br /> +whoso of women this warrior bore<br /> +among sons of men, if still she liveth,<br /> +that the God of the ages was good to her<br /> +in the birth of her bairn. Now, Beowulf, thee,<br /> +of heroes best, I shall heartily love<br /> +as mine own, my son; preserve thou ever<br /> +this kinship new: thou shalt never lack<br /> +wealth of the world that I wield as mine!<br /> +Full oft for less have I largess showered,<br /> +my precious hoard, on a punier man,<br /> +less stout in struggle. Thyself hast now<br /> +fulfilled such deeds, that thy fame shall endure<br /> +through all the ages. As ever he did,<br /> +well may the Wielder reward thee still!”<br /> +Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“This work of war most willingly<br /> +we have fought, this fight, and fearlessly dared<br /> +force of the foe. Fain, too, were I<br /> +hadst thou but seen himself, what time<br /> +the fiend in his trappings tottered to fall!<br /> +Swiftly, I thought, in strongest gripe<br /> +on his bed of death to bind him down,<br /> +that he in the hent of this hand of mine<br /> +should breathe his last: but he broke away.<br /> +Him I might not -- the Maker willed not --<br /> +hinder from flight, and firm enough hold<br /> +the life-destroyer: too sturdy was he,<br /> +the ruthless, in running! For rescue, however,<br /> +he left behind him his hand in pledge,<br /> +arm and shoulder; nor aught of help<br /> +could the cursed one thus procure at all.<br /> +None the longer liveth he, loathsome fiend,<br /> +sunk in his sins, but sorrow holds him<br /> +tightly grasped in gripe of anguish,<br /> +in baleful bonds, where bide he must,<br /> +evil outlaw, such awful doom<br /> +as the Mighty Maker shall mete him out.”</p> <p>More silent seemed the son of Ecglaf <a name="citation14a"></a><a href="#footnote14a">{14a}</a><br /> +in boastful speech of his battle-deeds,<br /> +since athelings all, through the earl’s great prowess,<br /> +beheld that hand, on the high roof gazing,<br /> +foeman’s fingers, -- the forepart of each<br /> +of the sturdy nails to steel was likest, --<br /> +heathen’s “hand-spear,” hostile warrior’s<br /> +claw uncanny. ’Twas clear, they said,<br /> +that him no blade of the brave could touch,<br /> +how keen soever, or cut away<br /> +that battle-hand bloody from baneful foe.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XV</p> +<p>THERE was hurry and hest in Heorot now<br /> +for hands to bedeck it, and dense was the throng<br /> +of men and women the wine-hall to cleanse,<br /> +the guest-room to garnish. Gold-gay shone the hangings<br /> +that were wove on the wall, and wonders many<br /> +to delight each mortal that looks upon them.<br /> +Though braced within by iron bands,<br /> +that building bright was broken sorely; <a name="citation15a"></a><a href="#footnote15a">{15a}</a><br /> +rent were its hinges; the roof alone<br /> +held safe and sound, when, seared with crime,<br /> +the fiendish foe his flight essayed,<br /> +of life despairing. -- No light thing that,<br /> +the flight for safety, -- essay it who will!<br /> +Forced of fate, he shall find his way<br /> +to the refuge ready for race of man,<br /> +for soul-possessors, and sons of earth;<br /> +and there his body on bed of death<br /> +shall rest after revel.<br /> +Arrived was the hour<br /> +when to hall proceeded Healfdene’s son:<br /> +the king himself would sit to banquet.<br /> +Ne’er heard I of host in haughtier throng<br /> +more graciously gathered round giver-of-rings!<br /> +Bowed then to bench those bearers-of-glory,<br /> +fain of the feasting. Featly received<br /> +many a mead-cup the mighty-in-spirit,<br /> +kinsmen who sat in the sumptuous hall,<br /> +Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Heorot now<br /> +was filled with friends; the folk of Scyldings<br /> +ne’er yet had tried the traitor’s deed.<br /> +To Beowulf gave the bairn of Healfdene<br /> +a gold-wove banner, guerdon of triumph,<br /> +broidered battle-flag, breastplate and helmet;<br /> +and a splendid sword was seen of many<br /> +borne to the brave one. Beowulf took<br /> +cup in hall: <a name="citation15b"></a><a href="#footnote15b">{15b}</a> for such costly gifts<br /> +he suffered no shame in that soldier throng.<br /> +For I heard of few heroes, in heartier mood,<br /> +with four such gifts, so fashioned with gold,<br /> +on the ale-bench honoring others thus!<br /> +O’er the roof of the helmet high, a ridge,<br /> +wound with wires, kept ward o’er the head,<br /> +lest the relict-of-files <a name="citation15c"></a><a href="#footnote15c">{15c}</a> should fierce invade,<br /> +sharp in the strife, when that shielded hero<br /> +should go to grapple against his foes.<br /> +Then the earls’-defence <a name="citation15d"></a><a href="#footnote15d">{15d}</a> on the floor <a name="citation15e"></a><a href="#footnote15e">{15e}</a> +bade lead<br /> +coursers eight, with carven head-gear,<br /> +adown the hall: one horse was decked<br /> +with a saddle all shining and set in jewels;<br /> +’twas the battle-seat of the best of kings,<br /> +when to play of swords the son of Healfdene<br /> +was fain to fare. Ne’er failed his valor<br /> +in the crush of combat when corpses fell.<br /> +To Beowulf over them both then gave<br /> +the refuge-of-Ingwines right and power,<br /> +o’er war-steeds and weapons: wished him joy of them.<br /> +Manfully thus the mighty prince,<br /> +hoard-guard for heroes, that hard fight repaid<br /> +with steeds and treasures contemned by none<br /> +who is willing to say the sooth aright.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XVI</p> +<p>AND the lord of earls, to each that came<br /> +with Beowulf over the briny ways,<br /> +an heirloom there at the ale-bench gave,<br /> +precious gift; and the price <a name="citation16a"></a><a href="#footnote16a">{16a}</a> +bade pay<br /> +in gold for him whom Grendel erst<br /> +murdered, -- and fain of them more had killed,<br /> +had not wisest God their Wyrd averted,<br /> +and the man’s <a name="citation16b"></a><a href="#footnote16b">{16b}</a> +brave mood. The Maker then<br /> +ruled human kind, as here and now.<br /> +Therefore is insight always best,<br /> +and forethought of mind. How much awaits him<br /> +of lief and of loath, who long time here,<br /> +through days of warfare this world endures!</p> +<p>Then song and music mingled sounds<br /> +in the presence of Healfdene’s head-of-armies <a name="citation16c"></a><a href="#footnote16c">{16c}</a><br /> +and harping was heard with the hero-lay<br /> +as Hrothgar’s singer the hall-joy woke<br /> +along the mead-seats, making his song<br /> +of that sudden raid on the sons of Finn. <a name="citation16d"></a><a href="#footnote16d">{16d}</a><br /> +Healfdene’s hero, Hnaef the Scylding,<br /> +was fated to fall in the Frisian slaughter. <a name="citation16e"></a><a href="#footnote16e">{16e}</a><br /> +Hildeburh needed not hold in value<br /> +her enemies’ honor! <a name="citation16f"></a><a href="#footnote16f">{16f}</a> Innocent both<br /> +were the loved ones she lost at the linden-play,<br /> +bairn and brother, they bowed to fate,<br /> +stricken by spears; ’twas a sorrowful woman!<br /> +None doubted why the daughter of Hoc<br /> +bewailed her doom when dawning came,<br /> +and under the sky she saw them lying,<br /> +kinsmen murdered, where most she had kenned<br /> +of the sweets of the world! By war were swept, too,<br /> +Finn’s own liegemen, and few were left;<br /> +in the parleying-place <a name="citation16g"></a><a href="#footnote16g">{16g}</a> he could ply no longer<br /> +weapon, nor war could he wage on Hengest,<br /> +and rescue his remnant by right of arms<br /> +from the prince’s thane. A pact he offered:<br /> +another dwelling the Danes should have,<br /> +hall and high-seat, and half the power<br /> +should fall to them in Frisian land;<br /> +and at the fee-gifts, Folcwald’s son<br /> +day by day the Danes should honor,<br /> +the folk of Hengest favor with rings,<br /> +even as truly, with treasure and jewels,<br /> +with fretted gold, as his Frisian kin<br /> +he meant to honor in ale-hall there.<br /> +Pact of peace they plighted further<br /> +on both sides firmly. Finn to Hengest<br /> +with oath, upon honor, openly promised<br /> +that woful remnant, with wise-men’s aid,<br /> +nobly to govern, so none of the guests<br /> +by word or work should warp the treaty, <a name="citation16h"></a><a href="#footnote16h">{16h}</a><br /> +or with malice of mind bemoan themselves<br /> +as forced to follow their fee-giver’s slayer,<br /> +lordless men, as their lot ordained.<br /> +Should Frisian, moreover, with foeman’s taunt,<br /> +that murderous hatred to mind recall,<br /> +then edge of the sword must seal his doom.</p> <p>Oaths were given, and ancient gold<br /> +heaped from hoard. -- The hardy Scylding,<br /> +battle-thane best, <a name="citation16i"></a><a href="#footnote16i">{16i}</a> on his balefire lay.<br /> +All on the pyre were plain to see<br /> +the gory sark, the gilded swine-crest,<br /> +boar of hard iron, and athelings many<br /> +slain by the sword: at the slaughter they fell.<br /> +It was Hildeburh’s hest, at Hnaef’s own pyre<br /> +the bairn of her body on brands to lay,<br /> +his bones to burn, on the balefire placed,<br /> +at his uncle’s side. In sorrowful dirges<br /> +bewept them the woman: great wailing ascended.<br /> +Then wound up to welkin the wildest of death-fires,<br /> +roared o’er the hillock: <a name="citation16j"></a><a href="#footnote16j">{16j}</a> heads all were melted,<br /> +gashes burst, and blood gushed out<br /> +from bites <a name="citation16k"></a><a href="#footnote16k">{16k}</a> of the body. Balefire devoured,<br /> +greediest spirit, those spared not by war<br /> +out of either folk: their flower was gone.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XVII</p> +<p>THEN hastened those heroes their home to see,<br /> +friendless, to find the Frisian land,<br /> +houses and high burg. Hengest still<br /> +through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn,<br /> +holding pact, yet of home he minded,<br /> +though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive<br /> +over the waters, now waves rolled fierce<br /> +lashed by the winds, or winter locked them<br /> +in icy fetters. Then fared another<br /> +year to men’s dwellings, as yet they do,<br /> +the sunbright skies, that their season ever<br /> +duly await. Far off winter was driven;<br /> +fair lay earth’s breast; and fain was the rover,<br /> +the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered<br /> +on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep,<br /> +and how to hasten the hot encounter<br /> +where sons of the Frisians were sure to be.<br /> +So he escaped not the common doom,<br /> +when Hun with “Lafing,” the light-of-battle,<br /> +best of blades, his bosom pierced:<br /> +its edge was famed with the Frisian earls.<br /> +On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise,<br /> +on himself at home, the horrid sword-death;<br /> +for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack<br /> +had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed,<br /> +mourning their woes. <a name="citation17a"></a><a href="#footnote17a">{17a}</a> Finn’s wavering spirit<br /> +bode not in breast. The burg was reddened<br /> +with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain,<br /> +king amid clansmen; the queen was taken.<br /> +To their ship the Scylding warriors bore<br /> +all the chattels the chieftain owned,<br /> +whatever they found in Finn’s domain<br /> +of gems and jewels. The gentle wife<br /> +o’er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore,<br /> +led to her land.<br /> +The lay was finished,<br /> +the gleeman’s song. Then glad rose the revel;<br /> +bench-joy brightened. Bearers draw<br /> +from their “wonder-vats” wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth,<br /> +under gold-crown goes where the good pair sit,<br /> +uncle and nephew, true each to the other one,<br /> +kindred in amity. Unferth the spokesman<br /> +at the Scylding lord’s feet sat: men had faith in his spirit,<br /> +his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him<br /> +unsure at the sword-play. The Scylding queen spoke:<br /> +“Quaff of this cup, my king and lord,<br /> +breaker of rings, and blithe be thou,<br /> +gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak<br /> +such words of mildness as man should use.<br /> +Be glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful,<br /> +or near or far, which now thou hast.</p> +<p>Men say to me, as son thou wishest<br /> +yon hero to hold. Thy Heorot purged,<br /> +jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while thou canst,<br /> +with many a largess; and leave to thy kin<br /> +folk and realm when forth thou goest<br /> +to greet thy doom. For gracious I deem<br /> +my Hrothulf, <a name="citation17b"></a><a href="#footnote17b">{17b}</a> willing to hold and rule<br /> +nobly our youths, if thou yield up first,<br /> +prince of Scyldings, thy part in the world.<br /> +I ween with good he will well requite<br /> +offspring of ours, when all he minds<br /> +that for him we did in his helpless days<br /> +of gift and grace to gain him honor!”<br /> +Then she turned to the seat where her sons wereplaced,<br /> +Hrethric and Hrothmund, with heroes’ bairns,<br /> +young men together: the Geat, too, sat there,<br /> +Beowulf brave, the brothers between.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XVIII</p> +<p>A CUP she gave him, with kindly greeting<br /> +and winsome words. Of wounden gold,<br /> +she offered, to honor him, arm-jewels twain,<br /> +corselet and rings, and of collars the noblest<br /> +that ever I knew the earth around.<br /> +Ne’er heard I so mighty, ’neath heaven’s dome,<br /> +a hoard-gem of heroes, since Hama bore<br /> +to his bright-built burg the Brisings’ necklace,<br /> +jewel and gem casket. -- Jealousy fled he,<br /> +Eormenric’s hate: chose help eternal.<br /> +Hygelac Geat, grandson of Swerting,<br /> +on the last of his raids this ring bore with him,<br /> +under his banner the booty defending,<br /> +the war-spoil warding; but Wyrd o’erwhelmed him<br /> +what time, in his daring, dangers he sought,<br /> +feud with Frisians. Fairest of gems<br /> +he bore with him over the beaker-of-waves,<br /> +sovran strong: under shield he died.<br /> +Fell the corpse of the king into keeping of Franks,<br /> +gear of the breast, and that gorgeous ring;<br /> +weaker warriors won the spoil,<br /> +after gripe of battle, from Geatland’s lord,<br /> +and held the death-field.<br /> +Din rose in hall.<br /> +Wealhtheow spake amid warriors, and said: --<br /> +“This jewel enjoy in thy jocund youth,<br /> +Beowulf lov’d, these battle-weeds wear,<br /> +a royal treasure, and richly thrive!<br /> +Preserve thy strength, and these striplings here<br /> +counsel in kindness: requital be mine.<br /> +Hast done such deeds, that for days to come<br /> +thou art famed among folk both far and near,<br /> +so wide as washeth the wave of Ocean<br /> +his windy walls. Through the ways of life<br /> +prosper, O prince! I pray for thee<br /> +rich possessions. To son of mine<br /> +be helpful in deed and uphold his joys!<br /> +Here every earl to the other is true,<br /> +mild of mood, to the master loyal!<br /> +Thanes are friendly, the throng obedient,<br /> +liegemen are revelling: list and obey!”<br /> +Went then to her place. -- That was proudest of feasts;<br /> +flowed wine for the warriors. Wyrd they knew not,<br /> +destiny dire, and the doom to be seen<br /> +by many an earl when eve should come,<br /> +and Hrothgar homeward hasten away,<br /> +royal, to rest. The room was guarded<br /> +by an army of earls, as erst was done.<br /> +They bared the bench-boards; abroad they spread<br /> +beds and bolsters. -- One beer-carouser<br /> +in danger of doom lay down in the hall. --</p> +<p>At their heads they set their shields of war,<br /> +bucklers bright; on the bench were there<br /> +over each atheling, easy to see,<br /> +the high battle-helmet, the haughty spear,<br /> +the corselet of rings. ’Twas their custom so<br /> +ever to be for battle prepared,<br /> +at home, or harrying, which it were,<br /> +even as oft as evil threatened<br /> +their sovran king. -- They were clansmen good.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XIX</p> +<p>THEN sank they to sleep. With sorrow one bought<br /> +his rest of the evening, -- as ofttime had happened<br /> +when Grendel guarded that golden hall,<br /> +evil wrought, till his end drew nigh,<br /> +slaughter for sins. ’Twas seen and told<br /> +how an avenger survived the fiend,<br /> +as was learned afar. The livelong time<br /> +after that grim fight, Grendel’s mother,<br /> +monster of women, mourned her woe.<br /> +She was doomed to dwell in the dreary waters,<br /> +cold sea-courses, since Cain cut down<br /> +with edge of the sword his only brother,<br /> +his father’s offspring: outlawed he fled,<br /> +marked with murder, from men’s delights<br /> +warded the wilds. -- There woke from him<br /> +such fate-sent ghosts as Grendel, who,<br /> +war-wolf horrid, at Heorot found<br /> +a warrior watching and waiting the fray,<br /> +with whom the grisly one grappled amain.<br /> +But the man remembered his mighty power,<br /> +the glorious gift that God had sent him,<br /> +in his Maker’s mercy put his trust<br /> +for comfort and help: so he conquered the foe,<br /> +felled the fiend, who fled abject,<br /> +reft of joy, to the realms of death,<br /> +mankind’s foe. And his mother now,<br /> +gloomy and grim, would go that quest<br /> +of sorrow, the death of her son to avenge.<br /> +To Heorot came she, where helmeted Danes<br /> +slept in the hall. Too soon came back<br /> +old ills of the earls, when in she burst,<br /> +the mother of Grendel. Less grim, though, that terror,<br /> +e’en as terror of woman in war is less,<br /> +might of maid, than of men in arms<br /> +when, hammer-forged, the falchion hard,<br /> +sword gore-stained, through swine of the helm,<br /> +crested, with keen blade carves amain.<br /> +Then was in hall the hard-edge drawn,<br /> +the swords on the settles, <a name="citation19a"></a><a href="#footnote19a">{19a}</a> and shields a-many<br /> +firm held in hand: nor helmet minded<br /> +nor harness of mail, whom that horror seized.<br /> +Haste was hers; she would hie afar<br /> +and save her life when the liegemen saw her.<br /> +Yet a single atheling up she seized<br /> +fast and firm, as she fled to the moor.<br /> +He was for Hrothgar of heroes the dearest,<br /> +of trusty vassals betwixt the seas,<br /> +whom she killed on his couch, a clansman famous,<br /> +in battle brave. -- Nor was Beowulf there;<br /> +another house had been held apart,<br /> +after giving of gold, for the Geat renowned. --<br /> +Uproar filled Heorot; the hand all had viewed,<br /> +blood-flecked, she bore with her; bale was returned,<br /> +dole in the dwellings: ’twas dire exchange<br /> +where Dane and Geat were doomed to give<br /> +the lives of loved ones. Long-tried king,<br /> +the hoary hero, at heart was sad<br /> +when he knew his noble no more lived,<br /> +and dead indeed was his dearest thane.<br /> +To his bower was Beowulf brought in haste,<br /> +dauntless victor. As daylight broke,<br /> +along with his earls the atheling lord,<br /> +with his clansmen, came where the king abode<br /> +waiting to see if the Wielder-of-All<br /> +would turn this tale of trouble and woe.<br /> +Strode o’er floor the famed-in-strife,<br /> +with his hand-companions, -- the hall resounded, --<br /> +wishing to greet the wise old king,<br /> +Ingwines’ lord; he asked if the night<br /> +had passed in peace to the prince’s mind.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XX</p> +<p>HROTHGAR spake, helmet-of-Scyldings: --<br /> +“Ask not of pleasure! Pain is renewed<br /> +to Danish folk. Dead is Aeschere,<br /> +of Yrmenlaf the elder brother,<br /> +my sage adviser and stay in council,<br /> +shoulder-comrade in stress of fight<br /> +when warriors clashed and we warded our heads,<br /> +hewed the helm-boars; hero famed<br /> +should be every earl as Aeschere was!<br /> +But here in Heorot a hand hath slain him<br /> +of wandering death-sprite. I wot not whither, <a name="citation20a"></a><a href="#footnote20a">{20a}</a><br /> +proud of the prey, her path she took,<br /> +fain of her fill. The feud she avenged<br /> +that yesternight, unyieldingly,<br /> +Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killedst, --<br /> +seeing how long these liegemen mine<br /> +he ruined and ravaged. Reft of life,<br /> +in arms he fell. Now another comes,<br /> +keen and cruel, her kin to avenge,<br /> +faring far in feud of blood:<br /> +so that many a thane shall think, who e’er<br /> +sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings,<br /> +this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies low<br /> +that once was willing each wish to please.<br /> +Land-dwellers here <a name="citation20b"></a><a href="#footnote20b">{20b}</a> and liegemen mine,<br /> +who house by those parts, I have heard relate<br /> +that such a pair they have sometimes seen,<br /> +march-stalkers mighty the moorland haunting,<br /> +wandering spirits: one of them seemed,<br /> +so far as my folk could fairly judge,<br /> +of womankind; and one, accursed,<br /> +in man’s guise trod the misery-track<br /> +of exile, though huger than human bulk.<br /> +Grendel in days long gone they named him,<br /> +folk of the land; his father they knew not,<br /> +nor any brood that was born to him<br /> +of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home;<br /> +by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,<br /> +fenways fearful, where flows the stream<br /> +from mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks,<br /> +underground flood. Not far is it hence<br /> +in measure of miles that the mere expands,<br /> +and o’er it the frost-bound forest hanging,<br /> +sturdily rooted, shadows the wave.<br /> +By night is a wonder weird to see,<br /> +fire on the waters. So wise lived none<br /> +of the sons of men, to search those depths!<br /> +Nay, though the heath-rover, harried by dogs,<br /> +the horn-proud hart, this holt should seek,<br /> +long distance driven, his dear life first<br /> +on the brink he yields ere he brave the plunge<br /> +to hide his head: ’tis no happy place!<br /> +Thence the welter of waters washes up<br /> +wan to welkin when winds bestir<br /> +evil storms, and air grows dusk,<br /> +and the heavens weep. Now is help once more<br /> +with thee alone! The land thou knowst not,<br /> +place of fear, where thou findest out<br /> +that sin-flecked being. Seek if thou dare!<br /> +I will reward thee, for waging this fight,<br /> +with ancient treasure, as erst I did,<br /> +with winding gold, if thou winnest back.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXI</p> +<p>BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:<br /> +“Sorrow not, sage! It beseems us better<br /> +friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them.<br /> +Each of us all must his end abide<br /> +in the ways of the world; so win who may<br /> +glory ere death! When his days are told,<br /> +that is the warrior’s worthiest doom.<br /> +Rise, O realm-warder! Ride we anon,<br /> +and mark the trail of the mother of Grendel.<br /> +No harbor shall hide her -- heed my promise! --<br /> +enfolding of field or forested mountain<br /> +or floor of the flood, let her flee where she will!<br /> +But thou this day endure in patience,<br /> +as I ween thou wilt, thy woes each one.”<br /> +Leaped up the graybeard: God he thanked,<br /> +mighty Lord, for the man’s brave words.<br /> +For Hrothgar soon a horse was saddled<br /> +wave-maned steed. The sovran wise<br /> +stately rode on; his shield-armed men<br /> +followed in force. The footprints led<br /> +along the woodland, widely seen,<br /> +a path o’er the plain, where she passed, and trod<br /> +the murky moor; of men-at-arms<br /> +she bore the bravest and best one, dead,<br /> +him who with Hrothgar the homestead ruled.<br /> +On then went the atheling-born<br /> +o’er stone-cliffs steep and strait defiles,<br /> +narrow passes and unknown ways,<br /> +headlands sheer, and the haunts of the Nicors.<br /> +Foremost he <a name="citation21a"></a><a href="#footnote21a">{21a}</a> fared, +a few at his side<br /> +of the wiser men, the ways to scan,<br /> +till he found in a flash the forested hill<br /> +hanging over the hoary rock,<br /> +a woful wood: the waves below<br /> +were dyed in blood. The Danish men<br /> +had sorrow of soul, and for Scyldings all,<br /> +for many a hero, ’twas hard to bear,<br /> +ill for earls, when Aeschere’s head<br /> +they found by the flood on the foreland there.<br /> +Waves were welling, the warriors saw,<br /> +hot with blood; but the horn sang oft<br /> +battle-song bold. The band sat down,<br /> +and watched on the water worm-like things,<br /> +sea-dragons strange that sounded the deep,<br /> +and nicors that lay on the ledge of the ness --<br /> +such as oft essay at hour of morn<br /> +on the road-of-sails their ruthless quest, --<br /> +and sea-snakes and monsters. These started away,<br /> +swollen and savage that song to hear,<br /> +that war-horn’s blast. The warden of Geats,<br /> +with bolt from bow, then balked of life,<br /> +of wave-work, one monster, amid its heart<br /> +went the keen war-shaft; in water it seemed<br /> +less doughty in swimming whom death had seized.<br /> +Swift on the billows, with boar-spears well<br /> +hooked and barbed, it was hard beset,<br /> +done to death and dragged on the headland,<br /> +wave-roamer wondrous. Warriors viewed<br /> +the grisly guest.<br /> +Then girt him Beowulf<br /> +in martial mail, nor mourned for his life.<br /> +His breastplate broad and bright of hues,<br /> +woven by hand, should the waters try;<br /> +well could it ward the warrior’s body<br /> +that battle should break on his breast in vain<br /> +nor harm his heart by the hand of a foe.<br /> +And the helmet white that his head protected<br /> +was destined to dare the deeps of the flood,<br /> +through wave-whirl win: ’twas wound with chains,<br /> +decked with gold, as in days of yore<br /> +the weapon-smith worked it wondrously,<br /> +with swine-forms set it, that swords nowise,<br /> +brandished in battle, could bite that helm.<br /> +Nor was that the meanest of mighty helps<br /> +which Hrothgar’s orator offered at need:<br /> +“Hrunting” they named the hilted sword,<br /> +of old-time heirlooms easily first;<br /> +iron was its edge, all etched with poison,<br /> +with battle-blood hardened, nor blenched it at fight<br /> +in hero’s hand who held it ever,<br /> +on paths of peril prepared to go<br /> +to folkstead <a name="citation21b"></a><a href="#footnote21b">{21b}</a> of foes. Not first time this<br /> +it was destined to do a daring task.<br /> +For he bore not in mind, the bairn of Ecglaf<br /> +sturdy and strong, that speech he had made,<br /> +drunk with wine, now this weapon he lent<br /> +to a stouter swordsman. Himself, though, durst not<br /> +under welter of waters wager his life<br /> +as loyal liegeman. So lost he his glory,<br /> +honor of earls. With the other not so,<br /> +who girded him now for the grim encounter.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXII</p> +<p>BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“Have mind, thou honored offspring of Healfdene<br /> +gold-friend of men, now I go on this quest,<br /> +sovran wise, what once was said:<br /> +if in thy cause it came that I<br /> +should lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bide<br /> +to me, though fallen, in father’s place!<br /> +Be guardian, thou, to this group of my thanes,<br /> +my warrior-friends, if War should seize me;<br /> +and the goodly gifts thou gavest me,<br /> +Hrothgar beloved, to Hygelac send!<br /> +Geatland’s king may ken by the gold,<br /> +Hrethel’s son see, when he stares at the treasure,<br /> +that I got me a friend for goodness famed,<br /> +and joyed while I could in my jewel-bestower.<br /> +And let Unferth wield this wondrous sword,<br /> +earl far-honored, this heirloom precious,<br /> +hard of edge: with Hrunting I<br /> +seek doom of glory, or Death shall take me.”</p> +<p>After these words the Weder-Geat lord<br /> +boldly hastened, biding never<br /> +answer at all: the ocean floods<br /> +closed o’er the hero. Long while of the day<br /> +fled ere he felt the floor of the sea.</p> <p>Soon found the fiend who the flood-domain<br /> +sword-hungry held these hundred winters,<br /> +greedy and grim, that some guest from above,<br /> +some man, was raiding her monster-realm.<br /> +She grasped out for him with grisly claws,<br /> +and the warrior seized; yet scathed she not<br /> +his body hale; the breastplate hindered,<br /> +as she strove to shatter the sark of war,<br /> +the linked harness, with loathsome hand.<br /> +Then bore this brine-wolf, when bottom she touched,<br /> +the lord of rings to the lair she haunted<br /> +whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held,<br /> +weapon to wield against wondrous monsters<br /> +that sore beset him; sea-beasts many<br /> +tried with fierce tusks to tear his mail,<br /> +and swarmed on the stranger. But soon he marked<br /> +he was now in some hall, he knew not which,<br /> +where water never could work him harm,<br /> +nor through the roof could reach him ever<br /> +fangs of the flood. Firelight he saw,<br /> +beams of a blaze that brightly shone.<br /> +Then the warrior was ware of that wolf-of-the-deep,<br /> +mere-wife monstrous. For mighty stroke<br /> +he swung his blade, and the blow withheld not.<br /> +Then sang on her head that seemly blade<br /> +its war-song wild. But the warrior found<br /> +the light-of-battle <a name="citation22a"></a><a href="#footnote22a">{22a}</a> was loath to bite,<br /> +to harm the heart: its hard edge failed<br /> +the noble at need, yet had known of old<br /> +strife hand to hand, and had helmets cloven,<br /> +doomed men’s fighting-gear. First time, this,<br /> +for the gleaming blade that its glory fell.<br /> +Firm still stood, nor failed in valor,<br /> +heedful of high deeds, Hygelac’s kinsman;<br /> +flung away fretted sword, featly jewelled,<br /> +the angry earl; on earth it lay<br /> +steel-edged and stiff. His strength he trusted,<br /> +hand-gripe of might. So man shall do<br /> +whenever in war he weens to earn him<br /> +lasting fame, nor fears for his life!<br /> +Seized then by shoulder, shrank not from combat,<br /> +the Geatish war-prince Grendel’s mother.<br /> +Flung then the fierce one, filled with wrath,<br /> +his deadly foe, that she fell to ground.<br /> +Swift on her part she paid him back<br /> +with grisly grasp, and grappled with him.<br /> +Spent with struggle, stumbled the warrior,<br /> +fiercest of fighting-men, fell adown.<br /> +On the hall-guest she hurled herself, hent her short sword,<br /> +broad and brown-edged, <a name="citation22b"></a><a href="#footnote22b">{22b}</a> the bairn to avenge,<br /> +the sole-born son. -- On his shoulder lay<br /> +braided breast-mail, barring death,<br /> +withstanding entrance of edge or blade.<br /> +Life would have ended for Ecgtheow’s son,<br /> +under wide earth for that earl of Geats,<br /> +had his armor of war not aided him,<br /> +battle-net hard, and holy God<br /> +wielded the victory, wisest Maker.<br /> +The Lord of Heaven allowed his cause;<br /> +and easily rose the earl erect.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXIII</p> +<p>’MID the battle-gear saw he a blade triumphant,<br /> +old-sword of Eotens, with edge of proof,<br /> +warriors’ heirloom, weapon unmatched,<br /> +-- save only ’twas more than other men<br /> +to bandy-of-battle could bear at all --<br /> +as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen.<br /> +Seized then its chain-hilt the Scyldings’ chieftain,<br /> +bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword,<br /> +reckless of life, and so wrathfully smote<br /> +that it gripped her neck and grasped her hard,<br /> +her bone-rings breaking: the blade pierced through<br /> +that fated-one’s flesh: to floor she sank.<br /> +Bloody the blade: he was blithe of his deed.<br /> +Then blazed forth light. ’Twas bright within<br /> +as when from the sky there shines unclouded<br /> +heaven’s candle. The hall he scanned.<br /> +By the wall then went he; his weapon raised<br /> +high by its hilts the Hygelac-thane,<br /> +angry and eager. That edge was not useless<br /> +to the warrior now. He wished with speed<br /> +Grendel to guerdon for grim raids many,<br /> +for the war he waged on Western-Danes<br /> +oftener far than an only time,<br /> +when of Hrothgar’s hearth-companions<br /> +he slew in slumber, in sleep devoured,<br /> +fifteen men of the folk of Danes,<br /> +and as many others outward bore,<br /> +his horrible prey. Well paid for that<br /> +the wrathful prince! For now prone he saw<br /> +Grendel stretched there, spent with war,<br /> +spoiled of life, so scathed had left him<br /> +Heorot’s battle. The body sprang far<br /> +when after death it endured the blow,<br /> +sword-stroke savage, that severed its head.<br /> +Soon, <a name="citation23a"></a><a href="#footnote23a">{23a}</a> then, saw the sage companions<br /> +who waited with Hrothgar, watching the flood,<br /> +that the tossing waters turbid grew,<br /> +blood-stained the mere. Old men together,<br /> +hoary-haired, of the hero spake;<br /> +the warrior would not, they weened, again,<br /> +proud of conquest, come to seek<br /> +their mighty master. To many it seemed<br /> +the wolf-of-the-waves had won his life.<br /> +The ninth hour came. The noble Scyldings<br /> +left the headland; homeward went<br /> +the gold-friend of men. <a name="citation23b"></a><a href="#footnote23b">{23b}</a> But the guests sat on,<br /> +stared at the surges, sick in heart,<br /> +and wished, yet weened not, their winsome lord<br /> +again to see.</p> <p>Now that sword began,<br /> +from blood of the fight, in battle-droppings, <a name="citation23c"></a><a href="#footnote23c">{23c}</a><br /> +war-blade, to wane: ’twas a wondrous thing<br /> +that all of it melted as ice is wont<br /> +when frosty fetters the Father loosens,<br /> +unwinds the wave-bonds, wielding all<br /> +seasons and times: the true God he!<br /> +Nor took from that dwelling the duke of the Geats<br /> +save only the head and that hilt withal<br /> +blazoned with jewels: the blade had melted,<br /> +burned was the bright sword, her blood was so hot,<br /> +so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished within there.<br /> +Soon he was swimming who safe saw in combat<br /> +downfall of demons; up-dove through the flood.<br /> +The clashing waters were cleansed now,<br /> +waste of waves, where the wandering fiend<br /> +her life-days left and this lapsing world.<br /> +Swam then to strand the sailors’-refuge,<br /> +sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty glad,<br /> +of burden brave he bore with him.<br /> +Went then to greet him, and God they thanked,<br /> +the thane-band choice of their chieftain blithe,<br /> +that safe and sound they could see him again.<br /> +Soon from the hardy one helmet and armor<br /> +deftly they doffed: now drowsed the mere,<br /> +water ’neath welkin, with war-blood stained.<br /> +Forth they fared by the footpaths thence,<br /> +merry at heart the highways measured,<br /> +well-known roads. Courageous men<br /> +carried the head from the cliff by the sea,<br /> +an arduous task for all the band,<br /> +the firm in fight, since four were needed<br /> +on the shaft-of-slaughter <a name="citation23d"></a><a href="#footnote23d">{23d}</a> strenuously<br /> +to bear to the gold-hall Grendel’s head.<br /> +So presently to the palace there<br /> +foemen fearless, fourteen Geats,<br /> +marching came. Their master-of-clan<br /> +mighty amid them the meadow-ways trod.<br /> +Strode then within the sovran thane<br /> +fearless in fight, of fame renowned,<br /> +hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet.<br /> +And next by the hair into hall was borne<br /> +Grendel’s head, where the henchmen were drinking,<br /> +an awe to clan and queen alike,<br /> +a monster of marvel: the men looked on.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXIV</p> +<p>BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“Lo, now, this sea-booty, son of Healfdene,<br /> +Lord of Scyldings, we’ve lustily brought thee,<br /> +sign of glory; thou seest it here.<br /> +Not lightly did I with my life escape!<br /> +In war under water this work I essayed<br /> +with endless effort; and even so<br /> +my strength had been lost had the Lord not shielded me.<br /> +Not a whit could I with Hrunting do<br /> +in work of war, though the weapon is good;<br /> +yet a sword the Sovran of Men vouchsafed me<br /> +to spy on the wall there, in splendor hanging,<br /> +old, gigantic, -- how oft He guides<br /> +the friendless wight! -- and I fought with that brand,<br /> +felling in fight, since fate was with me,<br /> +the house’s wardens. That war-sword then<br /> +all burned, bright blade, when the blood gushed o’er it,<br /> +battle-sweat hot; but the hilt I brought back<br /> +from my foes. So avenged I their fiendish deeds<br /> +death-fall of Danes, as was due and right.<br /> +And this is my hest, that in Heorot now<br /> +safe thou canst sleep with thy soldier band,<br /> +and every thane of all thy folk<br /> +both old and young; no evil fear,<br /> +Scyldings’ lord, from that side again,<br /> +aught ill for thy earls, as erst thou must!”<br /> +Then the golden hilt, for that gray-haired leader,<br /> +hoary hero, in hand was laid,<br /> +giant-wrought, old. So owned and enjoyed it<br /> +after downfall of devils, the Danish lord,<br /> +wonder-smiths’ work, since the world was rid<br /> +of that grim-souled fiend, the foe of God,<br /> +murder-marked, and his mother as well.<br /> +Now it passed into power of the people’s king,<br /> +best of all that the oceans bound<br /> +who have scattered their gold o’er Scandia’s isle.<br /> +Hrothgar spake -- the hilt he viewed,<br /> +heirloom old, where was etched the rise<br /> +of that far-off fight when the floods o’erwhelmed,<br /> +raging waves, the race of giants<br /> +(fearful their fate!), a folk estranged<br /> +from God Eternal: whence guerdon due<br /> +in that waste of waters the Wielder paid them.<br /> +So on the guard of shining gold<br /> +in runic staves it was rightly said<br /> +for whom the serpent-traced sword was wrought,<br /> +best of blades, in bygone days,<br /> +and the hilt well wound. -- The wise-one spake,<br /> +son of Healfdene; silent were all: --<br /> +“Lo, so may he say who sooth and right<br /> +follows ’mid folk, of far times mindful,<br /> +a land-warden old, <a name="citation24a"></a><a href="#footnote24a">{24a}</a> +that this earl belongs<br /> +to the better breed! So, borne aloft,<br /> +thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,<br /> +far and wide o’er folksteads many. Firmly thou<br /> +shalt all maintain,<br /> +mighty strength with mood of wisdom. Love of<br /> +mine will I assure thee,<br /> +as, awhile ago, I promised; thou shalt prove a stay<br /> +in future,<br /> +in far-off years, to folk of thine,<br /> +to the heroes a help. Was not Heremod thus<br /> +to offspring of Ecgwela, Honor-Scyldings,<br /> +nor grew for their grace, but for grisly slaughter,<br /> +for doom of death to the Danishmen.</p> +<p>He slew, wrath-swollen, his shoulder-comrades,<br /> +companions at board! So he passed alone,<br /> +chieftain haughty, from human cheer.<br /> +Though him the Maker with might endowed,<br /> +delights of power, and uplifted high<br /> +above all men, yet blood-fierce his mind,<br /> +his breast-hoard, grew, no bracelets gave he<br /> +to Danes as was due; he endured all joyless<br /> +strain of struggle and stress of woe,<br /> +long feud with his folk. Here find thy lesson!<br /> +Of virtue advise thee! This verse I have said for thee,<br /> +wise from lapsed winters. Wondrous seems<br /> +how to sons of men Almighty God<br /> +in the strength of His spirit sendeth wisdom,<br /> +estate, high station: He swayeth all things.<br /> +Whiles He letteth right lustily fare<br /> +the heart of the hero of high-born race, --<br /> +in seat ancestral assigns him bliss,<br /> +his folk’s sure fortress in fee to hold,<br /> +puts in his power great parts of the earth,<br /> +empire so ample, that end of it<br /> +this wanter-of-wisdom weeneth none.<br /> +So he waxes in wealth, nowise can harm him<br /> +illness or age; no evil cares<br /> +shadow his spirit; no sword-hate threatens<br /> +from ever an enemy: all the world<br /> +wends at his will, no worse he knoweth,<br /> +till all within him obstinate pride<br /> +waxes and wakes while the warden slumbers,<br /> +the spirit’s sentry; sleep is too fast<br /> +which masters his might, and the murderer nears,<br /> +stealthily shooting the shafts from his bow!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXV</p> +<p>“UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed<br /> +by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails<br /> +from foul behest of the hellish fiend. <a name="citation25a"></a><a href="#footnote25a">{25a}</a><br /> +Him seems too little what long he possessed.<br /> +Greedy and grim, no golden rings<br /> +he gives for his pride; the promised future<br /> +forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him,<br /> +Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.<br /> +Yet in the end it ever comes<br /> +that the frame of the body fragile yields,<br /> +fated falls; and there follows another<br /> +who joyously the jewels divides,<br /> +the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear.<br /> +Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf dearest,<br /> +best of men, and the better part choose,<br /> +profit eternal; and temper thy pride,<br /> +warrior famous! The flower of thy might<br /> +lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be<br /> +that sickness or sword thy strength shall minish,<br /> +or fang of fire, or flooding billow,<br /> +or bite of blade, or brandished spear,<br /> +or odious age; or the eyes’ clear beam<br /> +wax dull and darken: Death even thee<br /> +in haste shall o’erwhelm, thou hero of war!<br /> +So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I ruled,<br /> +wielded ’neath welkin, and warded them bravely<br /> +from mighty-ones many o’er middle-earth,<br /> +from spear and sword, till it seemed for me<br /> +no foe could be found under fold of the sky.<br /> +Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure<br /> +came grief for joy when Grendel began<br /> +to harry my home, the hellish foe;<br /> +for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered<br /> +heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked,<br /> +Lord Eternal, for life extended<br /> +that I on this head all hewn and bloody,<br /> +after long evil, with eyes may gaze!<br /> +-- Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet,<br /> +warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure<br /> +at dawn of day, be dealt between us!”<br /> +Glad was the Geats’ lord, going betimes<br /> +to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded.<br /> +Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle,<br /> +for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight<br /> +nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened<br /> +dusk o’er the drinkers.<br /> +The doughty ones rose:<br /> +for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest,<br /> +aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,<br /> +shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.<br /> +Him wander-weary, warrior-guest<br /> +from far, a hall-thane heralded forth,<br /> +who by custom courtly cared for all<br /> +needs of a thane as in those old days<br /> +warrior-wanderers wont to have.<br /> +So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall<br /> +rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on<br /> +till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven <a name="citation25b"></a><a href="#footnote25b">{25b}</a><br /> +blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying<br /> +shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened,<br /> +athelings all were eager homeward<br /> +forth to fare; and far from thence<br /> +the great-hearted guest would guide his keel.<br /> +Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought<br /> +to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take,<br /> +excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it,<br /> +quoth that he counted it keen in battle,<br /> +“war-friend” winsome: with words he slandered not<br /> +edge of the blade: ’twas a big-hearted man!<br /> +Now eager for parting and armed at point<br /> +warriors waited, while went to his host<br /> +that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling<br /> +to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXVI</p> +<p>BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“Lo, we seafarers say our will,<br /> +far-come men, that we fain would seek<br /> +Hygelac now. We here have found<br /> +hosts to our heart: thou hast harbored us well.<br /> +If ever on earth I am able to win me<br /> +more of thy love, O lord of men,<br /> +aught anew, than I now have done,<br /> +for work of war I am willing still!<br /> +If it come to me ever across the seas<br /> +that neighbor foemen annoy and fright thee, --<br /> +as they that hate thee erewhile have used, --<br /> +thousands then of thanes I shall bring,<br /> +heroes to help thee. Of Hygelac I know,<br /> +ward of his folk, that, though few his years,<br /> +the lord of the Geats will give me aid<br /> +by word and by work, that well I may serve thee,<br /> +wielding the war-wood to win thy triumph<br /> +and lending thee might when thou lackest men.<br /> +If thy Hrethric should come to court of Geats,<br /> +a sovran’s son, he will surely there<br /> +find his friends. A far-off land<br /> +each man should visit who vaunts him brave.”<br /> +Him then answering, Hrothgar spake: --<br /> +“These words of thine the wisest God<br /> +sent to thy soul! No sager counsel<br /> +from so young in years e’er yet have I heard.<br /> +Thou art strong of main and in mind art wary,<br /> +art wise in words! I ween indeed<br /> +if ever it hap that Hrethel’s heir<br /> +by spear be seized, by sword-grim battle,<br /> +by illness or iron, thine elder and lord,<br /> +people’s leader, -- and life be thine, --<br /> +no seemlier man will the Sea-Geats find<br /> +at all to choose for their chief and king,<br /> +for hoard-guard of heroes, if hold thou wilt<br /> +thy kinsman’s kingdom! Thy keen mind pleases me<br /> +the longer the better, Beowulf loved!</p> <p>Thou hast brought it about that both our peoples,<br /> +sons of the Geat and Spear-Dane folk,<br /> +shall have mutual peace, and from murderous strife,<br /> +such as once they waged, from war refrain.<br /> +Long as I rule this realm so wide,<br /> +let our hoards be common, let heroes with gold<br /> +each other greet o’er the gannet’s-bath,<br /> +and the ringed-prow bear o’er rolling waves<br /> +tokens of love. I trow my landfolk<br /> +towards friend and foe are firmly joined,<br /> +and honor they keep in the olden way.”<br /> +To him in the hall, then, Healfdene’s son<br /> +gave treasures twelve, and the trust-of-earls<br /> +bade him fare with the gifts to his folk beloved,<br /> +hale to his home, and in haste return.<br /> +Then kissed the king of kin renowned,<br /> +Scyldings’ chieftain, that choicest thane,<br /> +and fell on his neck. Fast flowed the tears<br /> +of the hoary-headed. Heavy with winters,<br /> +he had chances twain, but he clung to this, <a name="citation26a"></a><a href="#footnote26a">{26a}</a> +--<br /> +that each should look on the other again,<br /> +and hear him in hall. Was this hero so dear to him.<br /> +his breast’s wild billows he banned in vain;<br /> +safe in his soul a secret longing,<br /> +locked in his mind, for that loved man<br /> +burned in his blood. Then Beowulf strode,<br /> +glad of his gold-gifts, the grass-plot o’er,<br /> +warrior blithe. The wave-roamer bode<br /> +riding at anchor, its owner awaiting.<br /> +As they hastened onward, Hrothgar’s gift<br /> +they lauded at length. -- ’Twas a lord unpeered,<br /> +every way blameless, till age had broken<br /> +-- it spareth no mortal -- his splendid might.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXVII</p> +<p>CAME now to ocean the ever-courageous<br /> +hardy henchmen, their harness bearing,<br /> +woven war-sarks. The warden marked,<br /> +trusty as ever, the earl’s return.<br /> +From the height of the hill no hostile words<br /> +reached the guests as he rode to greet them;<br /> +but “Welcome!” he called to that Weder clan<br /> +as the sheen-mailed spoilers to ship marched on.<br /> +Then on the strand, with steeds and treasure<br /> +and armor their roomy and ring-dight ship<br /> +was heavily laden: high its mast<br /> +rose over Hrothgar’s hoarded gems.<br /> +A sword to the boat-guard Beowulf gave,<br /> +mounted with gold; on the mead-bench since<br /> +he was better esteemed, that blade possessing,<br /> +heirloom old. -- Their ocean-keel boarding,<br /> +they drove through the deep, and Daneland left.<br /> +A sea-cloth was set, a sail with ropes,<br /> +firm to the mast; the flood-timbers moaned; <a name="citation27a"></a><a href="#footnote27a">{27a}</a><br /> +nor did wind over billows that wave-swimmer blow<br /> +across from her course. The craft sped on,<br /> +foam-necked it floated forth o’er the waves,<br /> +keel firm-bound over briny currents,<br /> +till they got them sight of the Geatish cliffs,<br /> +home-known headlands. High the boat,<br /> +stirred by winds, on the strand updrove.<br /> +Helpful at haven the harbor-guard stood,<br /> +who long already for loved companions<br /> +by the water had waited and watched afar.<br /> +He bound to the beach the broad-bosomed ship<br /> +with anchor-bands, lest ocean-billows<br /> +that trusty timber should tear away.<br /> +Then Beowulf bade them bear the treasure,<br /> +gold and jewels; no journey far<br /> +was it thence to go to the giver of rings,<br /> +Hygelac Hrethling: at home he dwelt<br /> +by the sea-wall close, himself and clan.<br /> +Haughty that house, a hero the king,<br /> +high the hall, and Hygd <a name="citation27b"></a><a href="#footnote27b">{27b}</a> right young,<br /> +wise and wary, though winters few<br /> +in those fortress walls she had found a home,<br /> +Haereth’s daughter. Nor humble her ways,<br /> +nor grudged she gifts to the Geatish men,<br /> +of precious treasure. Not Thryth’s pride showed she,<br /> +folk-queen famed, or that fell deceit.<br /> +Was none so daring that durst make bold<br /> +(save her lord alone) of the liegemen dear<br /> +that lady full in the face to look,<br /> +but forged fetters he found his lot,<br /> +bonds of death! And brief the respite;<br /> +soon as they seized him, his sword-doom was spoken,<br /> +and the burnished blade a baleful murder<br /> +proclaimed and closed. No queenly way<br /> +for woman to practise, though peerless she,<br /> +that the weaver-of-peace <a name="citation27c"></a><a href="#footnote27c">{27c}</a> from warrior dear<br /> +by wrath and lying his life should reave!<br /> +But Hemming’s kinsman hindered this. --<br /> +For over their ale men also told<br /> +that of these folk-horrors fewer she wrought,<br /> +onslaughts of evil, after she went,<br /> +gold-decked bride, to the brave young prince,<br /> +atheling haughty, and Offa’s hall<br /> +o’er the fallow flood at her father’s bidding<br /> +safely sought, where since she prospered,<br /> +royal, throned, rich in goods,<br /> +fain of the fair life fate had sent her,<br /> +and leal in love to the lord of warriors.<br /> +He, of all heroes I heard of ever<br /> +from sea to sea, of the sons of earth,<br /> +most excellent seemed. Hence Offa was praised<br /> +for his fighting and feeing by far-off men,<br /> +the spear-bold warrior; wisely he ruled<br /> +over his empire. Eomer woke to him,<br /> +help of heroes, Hemming’s kinsman,<br /> +Grandson of Garmund, grim in war.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXVIII</p> +<p>HASTENED the hardy one, henchmen with him,<br /> +sandy strand of the sea to tread<br /> +and widespread ways. The world’s great candle,<br /> +sun shone from south. They strode along<br /> +with sturdy steps to the spot they knew<br /> +where the battle-king young, his burg within,<br /> +slayer of Ongentheow, shared the rings,<br /> +shelter-of-heroes. To Hygelac<br /> +Beowulf’s coming was quickly told, --<br /> +that there in the court the clansmen’s refuge,<br /> +the shield-companion sound and alive,<br /> +hale from the hero-play homeward strode.<br /> +With haste in the hall, by highest order,<br /> +room for the rovers was readily made.<br /> +By his sovran he sat, come safe from battle,<br /> +kinsman by kinsman. His kindly lord<br /> +he first had greeted in gracious form,<br /> +with manly words. The mead dispensing,<br /> +came through the high hall Haereth’s daughter,<br /> +winsome to warriors, wine-cup bore<br /> +to the hands of the heroes. Hygelac then<br /> +his comrade fairly with question plied<br /> +in the lofty hall, sore longing to know<br /> +what manner of sojourn the Sea-Geats made.<br /> +“What came of thy quest, my kinsman Beowulf,<br /> +when thy yearnings suddenly swept thee yonder<br /> +battle to seek o’er the briny sea,<br /> +combat in Heorot? Hrothgar couldst thou<br /> +aid at all, the honored chief,<br /> +in his wide-known woes? With waves of care<br /> +my sad heart seethed; I sore mistrusted<br /> +my loved one’s venture: long I begged thee<br /> +by no means to seek that slaughtering monster,<br /> +but suffer the South-Danes to settle their feud<br /> +themselves with Grendel. Now God be thanked<br /> +that safe and sound I can see thee now!”<br /> +Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“’Tis known and unhidden, Hygelac Lord,<br /> +to many men, that meeting of ours,<br /> +struggle grim between Grendel and me,<br /> +which we fought on the field where full too many<br /> +sorrows he wrought for the Scylding-Victors,<br /> +evils unending. These all I avenged.<br /> +No boast can be from breed of Grendel,<br /> +any on earth, for that uproar at dawn,<br /> +from the longest-lived of the loathsome race<br /> +in fleshly fold! -- But first I went<br /> +Hrothgar to greet in the hall of gifts,<br /> +where Healfdene’s kinsman high-renowned,<br /> +soon as my purpose was plain to him,<br /> +assigned me a seat by his son and heir.<br /> +The liegemen were lusty; my life-days never<br /> +such merry men over mead in hall<br /> +have I heard under heaven! The high-born queen,<br /> +people’s peace-bringer, passed through the hall,<br /> +cheered the young clansmen, clasps of gold,<br /> +ere she sought her seat, to sundry gave.<br /> +Oft to the heroes Hrothgar’s daughter,<br /> +to earls in turn, the ale-cup tendered, --<br /> +she whom I heard these hall-companions<br /> +Freawaru name, when fretted gold<br /> +she proffered the warriors. Promised is she,<br /> +gold-decked maid, to the glad son of Froda.<br /> +Sage this seems to the Scylding’s-friend,<br /> +kingdom’s-keeper: he counts it wise<br /> +the woman to wed so and ward off feud,<br /> +store of slaughter. But seldom ever<br /> +when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink<br /> +but briefest while, though the bride be fair! <a name="citation28a"></a><a href="#footnote28a">{28a}</a><br /> +“Nor haply will like it the Heathobard lord,<br /> +and as little each of his liegemen all,<br /> +when a thane of the Danes, in that doughty throng,<br /> +goes with the lady along their hall,<br /> +and on him the old-time heirlooms glisten<br /> +hard and ring-decked, Heathobard’s treasure,<br /> +weapons that once they wielded fair<br /> +until they lost at the linden-play <a name="citation28b"></a><a href="#footnote28b">{28b}</a><br /> +liegeman leal and their lives as well.<br /> +Then, over the ale, on this heirloom gazing,<br /> +some ash-wielder old who has all in mind<br /> +that spear-death of men, <a name="citation28c"></a><a href="#footnote28c">{28c}</a> -- +he is stern of mood,<br /> +heavy at heart, -- in the hero young<br /> +tests the temper and tries the soul<br /> +and war-hate wakens, with words like these: --<br /> +Canst thou not, comrade, ken that sword<br /> +which to the fray thy father carried<br /> +in his final feud, ’neath the fighting-mask,<br /> +dearest of blades, when the Danish slew him<br /> +and wielded the war-place on Withergild’s fall,<br /> +after havoc of heroes, those hardy Scyldings?<br /> +Now, the son of a certain slaughtering Dane,<br /> +proud of his treasure, paces this hall,<br /> +joys in the killing, and carries the jewel <a name="citation28d"></a><a href="#footnote28d">{28d}</a><br /> +that rightfully ought to be owned by thee!_<br /> +Thus he urges and eggs him all the time<br /> +with keenest words, till occasion offers<br /> +that Freawaru’s thane, for his father’s deed,<br /> +after bite of brand in his blood must slumber,<br /> +losing his life; but that liegeman flies<br /> +living away, for the land he kens.<br /> +And thus be broken on both their sides<br /> +oaths of the earls, when Ingeld’s breast<br /> +wells with war-hate, and wife-love now<br /> +after the care-billows cooler grows.<br /> +“So <a name="citation28e"></a><a href="#footnote28e">{28e}</a> I hold not high the Heathobards’ faith<br /> +due to the Danes, or their during love<br /> +and pact of peace. -- But I pass from that,<br /> +turning to Grendel, O giver-of-treasure,<br /> +and saying in full how the fight resulted,<br /> +hand-fray of heroes. When heaven’s jewel<br /> +had fled o’er far fields, that fierce sprite came,<br /> +night-foe savage, to seek us out<br /> +where safe and sound we sentried the hall.<br /> +To Hondscio then was that harassing deadly,<br /> +his fall there was fated. He first was slain,<br /> +girded warrior. Grendel on him<br /> +turned murderous mouth, on our mighty kinsman,<br /> +and all of the brave man’s body devoured.<br /> +Yet none the earlier, empty-handed,<br /> +would the bloody-toothed murderer, mindful of bale,<br /> +outward go from the gold-decked hall:<br /> +but me he attacked in his terror of might,<br /> +with greedy hand grasped me. A glove hung by him <a name="citation28f"></a><a href="#footnote28f">{28f}</a><br /> +wide and wondrous, wound with bands;<br /> +and in artful wise it all was wrought,<br /> +by devilish craft, of dragon-skins.<br /> +Me therein, an innocent man,<br /> +the fiendish foe was fain to thrust<br /> +with many another. He might not so,<br /> +when I all angrily upright stood.<br /> +’Twere long to relate how that land-destroyer<br /> +I paid in kind for his cruel deeds;<br /> +yet there, my prince, this people of thine<br /> +got fame by my fighting. He fled away,<br /> +and a little space his life preserved;<br /> +but there staid behind him his stronger hand<br /> +left in Heorot; heartsick thence<br /> +on the floor of the ocean that outcast fell.<br /> +Me for this struggle the Scyldings’-friend<br /> +paid in plenty with plates of gold,<br /> +with many a treasure, when morn had come<br /> +and we all at the banquet-board sat down.<br /> +Then was song and glee. The gray-haired Scylding,<br /> +much tested, told of the times of yore.<br /> +Whiles the hero his harp bestirred,<br /> +wood-of-delight; now lays he chanted<br /> +of sooth and sadness, or said aright<br /> +legends of wonder, the wide-hearted king;<br /> +or for years of his youth he would yearn at times,<br /> +for strength of old struggles, now stricken with age,<br /> +hoary hero: his heart surged full<br /> +when, wise with winters, he wailed their flight.<br /> +Thus in the hall the whole of that day<br /> +at ease we feasted, till fell o’er earth<br /> +another night. Anon full ready<br /> +in greed of vengeance, Grendel’s mother<br /> +set forth all doleful. Dead was her son<br /> +through war-hate of Weders; now, woman monstrous<br /> +with fury fell a foeman she slew,<br /> +avenged her offspring. From Aeschere old,<br /> +loyal councillor, life was gone;<br /> +nor might they e’en, when morning broke,<br /> +those Danish people, their death-done comrade<br /> +burn with brands, on balefire lay<br /> +the man they mourned. Under mountain stream<br /> +she had carried the corpse with cruel hands.<br /> +For Hrothgar that was the heaviest sorrow<br /> +of all that had laden the lord of his folk.<br /> +The leader then, by thy life, besought me<br /> +(sad was his soul) in the sea-waves’ coil<br /> +to play the hero and hazard my being<br /> +for glory of prowess: my guerdon he pledged.<br /> +I then in the waters -- ’tis widely known --<br /> +that sea-floor-guardian savage found.<br /> +Hand-to-hand there a while we struggled;<br /> +billows welled blood; in the briny hall<br /> +her head I hewed with a hardy blade<br /> +from Grendel’s mother, -- and gained my life,<br /> +though not without danger. My doom was not yet.<br /> +Then the haven-of-heroes, Healfdene’s son,<br /> +gave me in guerdon great gifts of price.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXIX</p> +<p>“So held this king to the customs old,<br /> +that I wanted for nought in the wage I gained,<br /> +the meed of my might; he made me gifts,<br /> +Healfdene’s heir, for my own disposal.<br /> +Now to thee, my prince, I proffer them all,<br /> +gladly give them. Thy grace alone<br /> +can find me favor. Few indeed<br /> +have I of kinsmen, save, Hygelac, thee!”<br /> +Then he bade them bear him the boar-head standard,<br /> +the battle-helm high, and breastplate gray,<br /> +the splendid sword; then spake in form: --<br /> +“Me this war-gear the wise old prince,<br /> +Hrothgar, gave, and his hest he added,<br /> +that its story be straightway said to thee. --<br /> +A while it was held by Heorogar king,<br /> +for long time lord of the land of Scyldings;<br /> +yet not to his son the sovran left it,<br /> +to daring Heoroweard, -- dear as he was to him,<br /> +his harness of battle. -- Well hold thou it all!”<br /> +And I heard that soon passed o’er the path of this treasure,<br /> +all apple-fallow, four good steeds,<br /> +each like the others, arms and horses<br /> +he gave to the king. So should kinsmen be,<br /> +not weave one another the net of wiles,<br /> +or with deep-hid treachery death contrive<br /> +for neighbor and comrade. His nephew was ever<br /> +by hardy Hygelac held full dear,<br /> +and each kept watch o’er the other’s weal.<br /> +I heard, too, the necklace to Hygd he presented,<br /> +wonder-wrought treasure, which Wealhtheow gave him<br /> +sovran’s daughter: three steeds he added,<br /> +slender and saddle-gay. Since such gift<br /> +the gem gleamed bright on the breast of the queen.<br /> +Thus showed his strain the son of Ecgtheow<br /> +as a man remarked for mighty deeds<br /> +and acts of honor. At ale he slew not<br /> +comrade or kin; nor cruel his mood,<br /> +though of sons of earth his strength was greatest,<br /> +a glorious gift that God had sent<br /> +the splendid leader. Long was he spurned,<br /> +and worthless by Geatish warriors held;<br /> +him at mead the master-of-clans<br /> +failed full oft to favor at all.<br /> +Slack and shiftless the strong men deemed him,<br /> +profitless prince; but payment came,<br /> +to the warrior honored, for all his woes. --<br /> +Then the bulwark-of-earls <a name="citation29a"></a><a href="#footnote29a">{29a}</a> bade bring within,<br /> +hardy chieftain, Hrethel’s heirloom<br /> +garnished with gold: no Geat e’er knew<br /> +in shape of a sword a statelier prize.<br /> +The brand he laid in Beowulf’s lap;<br /> +and of hides assigned him seven thousand, <a name="citation29b"></a><a href="#footnote29b">{29b}</a><br /> +with house and high-seat. They held in common<br /> +land alike by their line of birth,<br /> +inheritance, home: but higher the king<br /> +because of his rule o’er the realm itself.</p> +<p>Now further it fell with the flight of years,<br /> +with harryings horrid, that Hygelac perished, <a name="citation29c"></a><a href="#footnote29c">{29c}</a><br /> +and Heardred, too, by hewing of swords<br /> +under the shield-wall slaughtered lay,<br /> +when him at the van of his victor-folk<br /> +sought hardy heroes, Heatho-Scilfings,<br /> +in arms o’erwhelming Hereric’s nephew.<br /> +Then Beowulf came as king this broad<br /> +realm to wield; and he ruled it well<br /> +fifty winters, <a name="citation29d"></a><a href="#footnote29d">{29d}</a> a wise old prince,<br /> +warding his land, until One began<br /> +in the dark of night, a Dragon, to rage.<br /> +In the grave on the hill a hoard it guarded,<br /> +in the stone-barrow steep. A strait path reached it,<br /> +unknown to mortals. Some man, however,<br /> +came by chance that cave within<br /> +to the heathen hoard. <a name="citation29e"></a><a href="#footnote29e">{29e}</a> +In hand he took<br /> +a golden goblet, nor gave he it back,<br /> +stole with it away, while the watcher slept,<br /> +by thievish wiles: for the warden’s wrath<br /> +prince and people must pay betimes!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXX</p> +<p>THAT way he went with no will of his own,<br /> +in danger of life, to the dragon’s hoard,<br /> +but for pressure of peril, some prince’s thane.<br /> +He fled in fear the fatal scourge,<br /> +seeking shelter, a sinful man,<br /> +and entered in. At the awful sight<br /> +tottered that guest, and terror seized him;<br /> +yet the wretched fugitive rallied anon<br /> +from fright and fear ere he fled away,<br /> +and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.<br /> +Of such besides there was store enough,<br /> +heirlooms old, the earth below,<br /> +which some earl forgotten, in ancient years,<br /> +left the last of his lofty race,<br /> +heedfully there had hidden away,<br /> +dearest treasure. For death of yore<br /> +had hurried all hence; and he alone<br /> +left to live, the last of the clan,<br /> +weeping his friends, yet wished to bide<br /> +warding the treasure, his one delight,<br /> +though brief his respite. The barrow, new-ready,<br /> +to strand and sea-waves stood anear,<br /> +hard by the headland, hidden and closed;<br /> +there laid within it his lordly heirlooms<br /> +and heaped hoard of heavy gold<br /> +that warden of rings. Few words he spake:<br /> +“Now hold thou, earth, since heroes may not,<br /> +what earls have owned! Lo, erst from thee<br /> +brave men brought it! But battle-death seized<br /> +and cruel killing my clansmen all,<br /> +robbed them of life and a liegeman’s joys.<br /> +None have I left to lift the sword,<br /> +or to cleanse the carven cup of price,<br /> +beaker bright. My brave are gone.<br /> +And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold,<br /> +shall part from its plating. Polishers sleep<br /> +who could brighten and burnish the battle-mask;<br /> +and those weeds of war that were wont to brave<br /> +over bicker of shields the bite of steel<br /> +rust with their bearer. The ringed mail<br /> +fares not far with famous chieftain,<br /> +at side of hero! No harp’s delight,<br /> +no glee-wood’s gladness! No good hawk now<br /> +flies through the hall! Nor horses fleet<br /> +stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death<br /> +the flower of my race have reft away.”<br /> +Mournful of mood, thus he moaned his woe,<br /> +alone, for them all, and unblithe wept<br /> +by day and by night, till death’s fell wave<br /> +o’erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss<br /> +that old ill-doer open found,<br /> +who, blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth,<br /> +naked foe-dragon flying by night<br /> +folded in fire: the folk of earth<br /> +dread him sore. ’Tis his doom to seek<br /> +hoard in the graves, and heathen gold<br /> +to watch, many-wintered: nor wins he thereby!<br /> +Powerful this plague-of-the-people thus<br /> +held the house of the hoard in earth<br /> +three hundred winters; till One aroused<br /> +wrath in his breast, to the ruler bearing<br /> +that costly cup, and the king implored<br /> +for bond of peace. So the barrow was plundered,<br /> +borne off was booty. His boon was granted<br /> +that wretched man; and his ruler saw<br /> +first time what was fashioned in far-off days.<br /> +When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled.<br /> +O’er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found<br /> +footprint of foe who so far had gone<br /> +in his hidden craft by the creature’s head. --<br /> +So may the undoomed easily flee<br /> +evils and exile, if only he gain<br /> +the grace of The Wielder! -- That warden of gold<br /> +o’er the ground went seeking, greedy to find<br /> +the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.<br /> +Savage and burning, the barrow he circled<br /> +all without; nor was any there,<br /> +none in the waste.... Yet war he desired,<br /> +was eager for battle. The barrow he entered,<br /> +sought the cup, and discovered soon<br /> +that some one of mortals had searched his treasure,<br /> +his lordly gold. The guardian waited<br /> +ill-enduring till evening came;<br /> +boiling with wrath was the barrow’s keeper,<br /> +and fain with flame the foe to pay<br /> +for the dear cup’s loss. -- Now day was fled<br /> +as the worm had wished. By its wall no more<br /> +was it glad to bide, but burning flew<br /> +folded in flame: a fearful beginning<br /> +for sons of the soil; and soon it came,<br /> +in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXI</p> +<p>THEN the baleful fiend its fire belched out,<br /> +and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high<br /> +all landsfolk frighting. No living thing<br /> +would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.<br /> +Wide was the dragon’s warring seen,<br /> +its fiendish fury far and near,<br /> +as the grim destroyer those Geatish people<br /> +hated and hounded. To hidden lair,<br /> +to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.<br /> +Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,<br /> +with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,<br /> +its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!</p> <p>To Beowulf then the bale was told<br /> +quickly and truly: the king’s own home,<br /> +of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,<br /> +that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old man<br /> +sad in heart, ’twas heaviest sorrow.<br /> +The sage assumed that his sovran God<br /> +he had angered, breaking ancient law,<br /> +and embittered the Lord. His breast within<br /> +with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.<br /> +The folk’s own fastness that fiery dragon<br /> +with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all<br /> +washed by waves; but the warlike king,<br /> +prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.<br /> +Warriors’-bulwark, he bade them work<br /> +all of iron -- the earl’s commander --<br /> +a war-shield wondrous: well he knew<br /> +that forest-wood against fire were worthless,<br /> +linden could aid not. -- Atheling brave,<br /> +he was fated to finish this fleeting life, <a name="citation31a"></a><a href="#footnote31a">{31a}</a><br /> +his days on earth, and the dragon with him,<br /> +though long it had watched o’er the wealth of the hoard! --<br /> +Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,<br /> +to follow the flyer-afar with a host,<br /> +a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,<br /> +nor deemed he dreadful the dragon’s warring,<br /> +its vigor and valor: ventures desperate<br /> +he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,<br /> +contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,<br /> +Hrothgar’s hall he had wholly purged,<br /> +and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,<br /> +loathsome breed! Not least was that<br /> +of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,<br /> +when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,<br /> +lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,<br /> +son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts died,<br /> +by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fled<br /> +through strength of himself and his swimming power,<br /> +though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty<br /> +coats of mail, when he came to the sea!<br /> +Nor yet might Hetwaras <a name="citation31b"></a><a href="#footnote31b">{31b}</a> +haughtily boast<br /> +their craft of contest, who carried against him<br /> +shields to the fight: but few escaped<br /> +from strife with the hero to seek their homes!<br /> +Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow’s son<br /> +lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,<br /> +where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,<br /> +rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught<br /> +the strength of her son to save their kingdom<br /> +from hostile hordes, after Hygelac’s death.<br /> +No sooner for this could the stricken ones<br /> +in any wise move that atheling’s mind<br /> +over young Heardred’s head as lord<br /> +and ruler of all the realm to be:<br /> +yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,<br /> +aided in honor, till, older grown,<br /> +he wielded the Weder-Geats. -- Wandering exiles<br /> +sought him o’er seas, the sons of Ohtere,<br /> +who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings’-helmet,<br /> +the bravest and best that broke the rings,<br /> +in Swedish land, of the sea-kings’ line,<br /> +haughty hero. <a name="citation31c"></a><a href="#footnote31c">{31c}</a> Hence Heardred’s end.<br /> +For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,<br /> +the blade’s fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;<br /> +but the son of Ongentheow sought again<br /> +house and home when Heardred fell,<br /> +leaving Beowulf lord of Geats<br /> +and gift-seat’s master. -- A good king he!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXII</p> +<p>THE fall of his lord he was fain to requite<br /> +in after days; and to Eadgils he proved<br /> +friend to the friendless, and forces sent<br /> +over the sea to the son of Ohtere,<br /> +weapons and warriors: well repaid he<br /> +those care-paths cold when the king he slew. <a name="citation32a"></a><a href="#footnote32a">{32a}</a><br /> +Thus safe through struggles the son of Ecgtheow<br /> +had passed a plenty, through perils dire,<br /> +with daring deeds, till this day was come<br /> +that doomed him now with the dragon to strive.<br /> +With comrades eleven the lord of Geats<br /> +swollen in rage went seeking the dragon.<br /> +He had heard whence all the harm arose<br /> +and the killing of clansmen; that cup of price<br /> +on the lap of the lord had been laid by the finder.<br /> +In the throng was this one thirteenth man,<br /> +starter of all the strife and ill,<br /> +care-laden captive; cringing thence<br /> +forced and reluctant, he led them on<br /> +till he came in ken of that cavern-hall,<br /> +the barrow delved near billowy surges,<br /> +flood of ocean. Within ’twas full<br /> +of wire-gold and jewels; a jealous warden,<br /> +warrior trusty, the treasures held,<br /> +lurked in his lair. Not light the task<br /> +of entrance for any of earth-born men!<br /> +Sat on the headland the hero king,<br /> +spake words of hail to his hearth-companions,<br /> +gold-friend of Geats. All gloomy his soul,<br /> +wavering, death-bound. Wyrd full nigh<br /> +stood ready to greet the gray-haired man,<br /> +to seize his soul-hoard, sunder apart<br /> +life and body. Not long would be<br /> +the warrior’s spirit enwound with flesh.<br /> +Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow: --<br /> +“Through store of struggles I strove in youth,<br /> +mighty feuds; I mind them all.<br /> +I was seven years old when the sovran of rings,<br /> +friend-of-his-folk, from my father took me,<br /> +had me, and held me, Hrethel the king,<br /> +with food and fee, faithful in kinship.<br /> +Ne’er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,<br /> +bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,<br /> +Herebeald and Haethcyn and Hygelac mine.<br /> +For the eldest of these, by unmeet chance,<br /> +by kinsman’s deed, was the death-bed strewn,<br /> +when Haethcyn killed him with horny bow,<br /> +his own dear liege laid low with an arrow,<br /> +missed the mark and his mate shot down,<br /> +one brother the other, with bloody shaft.<br /> +A feeless fight, <a name="citation32b"></a><a href="#footnote32b">{32b}</a> +and a fearful sin,<br /> +horror to Hrethel; yet, hard as it was,<br /> +unavenged must the atheling die!<br /> +Too awful it is for an aged man<br /> +to bide and bear, that his bairn so young<br /> +rides on the gallows. A rime he makes,<br /> +sorrow-song for his son there hanging<br /> +as rapture of ravens; no rescue now<br /> +can come from the old, disabled man!<br /> +Still is he minded, as morning breaks,<br /> +of the heir gone elsewhere; <a name="citation32c"></a><a href="#footnote32c">{32c}</a> another he hopes not<br /> +he will bide to see his burg within<br /> +as ward for his wealth, now the one has found<br /> +doom of death that the deed incurred.<br /> +Forlorn he looks on the lodge of his son,<br /> +wine-hall waste and wind-swept chambers<br /> +reft of revel. The rider sleepeth,<br /> +the hero, far-hidden; <a name="citation32d"></a><a href="#footnote32d">{32d}</a> +no harp resounds,<br /> +in the courts no wassail, as once was heard.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXIII</p> +<p>“THEN he goes to his chamber, a grief-song chants<br /> +alone for his lost. Too large all seems,<br /> +homestead and house. So the helmet-of-Weders<br /> +hid in his heart for Herebeald<br /> +waves of woe. No way could he take<br /> +to avenge on the slayer slaughter so foul;<br /> +nor e’en could he harass that hero at all<br /> +with loathing deed, though he loved him not.<br /> +And so for the sorrow his soul endured,<br /> +men’s gladness he gave up and God’s light chose.<br /> +Lands and cities he left his sons<br /> +(as the wealthy do) when he went from earth.<br /> +There was strife and struggle ’twixt Swede and Geat<br /> +o’er the width of waters; war arose,<br /> +hard battle-horror, when Hrethel died,<br /> +and Ongentheow’s offspring grew<br /> +strife-keen, bold, nor brooked o’er the seas<br /> +pact of peace, but pushed their hosts<br /> +to harass in hatred by Hreosnabeorh.<br /> +Men of my folk for that feud had vengeance,<br /> +for woful war (‘tis widely known),<br /> +though one of them bought it with blood of his heart,<br /> +a bargain hard: for Haethcyn proved<br /> +fatal that fray, for the first-of-Geats.<br /> +At morn, I heard, was the murderer killed<br /> +by kinsman for kinsman, <a name="citation33a"></a><a href="#footnote33a">{33a}</a> with clash of sword,<br /> +when Ongentheow met Eofor there.<br /> +Wide split the war-helm: wan he fell,<br /> +hoary Scylfing; the hand that smote him<br /> +of feud was mindful, nor flinched from the death-blow.<br /> +-- “For all that he <a name="citation33b"></a><a href="#footnote33b">{33b}</a> +gave me, my gleaming sword<br /> +repaid him at war, -- such power I wielded, --<br /> +for lordly treasure: with land he entrusted me,<br /> +homestead and house. He had no need<br /> +from Swedish realm, or from Spear-Dane folk,<br /> +or from men of the Gifths, to get him help, --<br /> +some warrior worse for wage to buy!<br /> +Ever I fought in the front of all,<br /> +sole to the fore; and so shall I fight<br /> +while I bide in life and this blade shall last<br /> +that early and late hath loyal proved<br /> +since for my doughtiness Daeghrefn fell,<br /> +slain by my hand, the Hugas’ champion.<br /> +Nor fared he thence to the Frisian king<br /> +with the booty back, and breast-adornments;<br /> +but, slain in struggle, that standard-bearer<br /> +fell, atheling brave. Not with blade was he slain,<br /> +but his bones were broken by brawny gripe,<br /> +his heart-waves stilled. -- The sword-edge now,<br /> +hard blade and my hand, for the hoard shall strive.”<br /> +Beowulf spake, and a battle-vow made<br /> +his last of all: “I have lived through many<br /> +wars in my youth; now once again,<br /> +old folk-defender, feud will I seek,<br /> +do doughty deeds, if the dark destroyer<br /> +forth from his cavern come to fight me!”<br /> +Then hailed he the helmeted heroes all,<br /> +for the last time greeting his liegemen dear,<br /> +comrades of war: “I should carry no weapon,<br /> +no sword to the serpent, if sure I knew<br /> +how, with such enemy, else my vows<br /> +I could gain as I did in Grendel’s day.<br /> +But fire in this fight I must fear me now,<br /> +and poisonous breath; so I bring with me<br /> +breastplate and board. <a name="citation33c"></a><a href="#footnote33c">{33c}</a> From the barrow’s keeper<br /> +no footbreadth flee I. One fight shall end<br /> +our war by the wall, as Wyrd allots,<br /> +all mankind’s master. My mood is bold<br /> +but forbears to boast o’er this battling-flyer.<br /> +-- Now abide by the barrow, ye breastplate-mailed,<br /> +ye heroes in harness, which of us twain<br /> +better from battle-rush bear his wounds.<br /> +Wait ye the finish. The fight is not yours,<br /> +nor meet for any but me alone<br /> +to measure might with this monster here<br /> +and play the hero. Hardily I<br /> +shall win that wealth, or war shall seize,<br /> +cruel killing, your king and lord!”<br /> +Up stood then with shield the sturdy champion,<br /> +stayed by the strength of his single manhood,<br /> +and hardy ’neath helmet his harness bore<br /> +under cleft of the cliffs: no coward’s path!<br /> +Soon spied by the wall that warrior chief,<br /> +survivor of many a victory-field<br /> +where foemen fought with furious clashings,<br /> +an arch of stone; and within, a stream<br /> +that broke from the barrow. The brooklet’s wave<br /> +was hot with fire. The hoard that way<br /> +he never could hope unharmed to near,<br /> +or endure those deeps, <a name="citation33d"></a><a href="#footnote33d">{33d}</a> for the dragon’s flame.<br /> +Then let from his breast, for he burst with rage,<br /> +the Weder-Geat prince a word outgo;<br /> +stormed the stark-heart; stern went ringing<br /> +and clear his cry ’neath the cliff-rocks gray.<br /> +The hoard-guard heard a human voice;<br /> +his rage was enkindled. No respite now<br /> +for pact of peace! The poison-breath<br /> +of that foul worm first came forth from the cave,<br /> +hot reek-of-fight: the rocks resounded.<br /> +Stout by the stone-way his shield he raised,<br /> +lord of the Geats, against the loathed-one;<br /> +while with courage keen that coiled foe<br /> +came seeking strife. The sturdy king<br /> +had drawn his sword, not dull of edge,<br /> +heirloom old; and each of the two<br /> +felt fear of his foe, though fierce their mood.<br /> +Stoutly stood with his shield high-raised<br /> +the warrior king, as the worm now coiled<br /> +together amain: the mailed-one waited.<br /> +Now, spire by spire, fast sped and glided<br /> +that blazing serpent. The shield protected,<br /> +soul and body a shorter while<br /> +for the hero-king than his heart desired,<br /> +could his will have wielded the welcome respite<br /> +but once in his life! But Wyrd denied it,<br /> +and victory’s honors. -- His arm he lifted<br /> +lord of the Geats, the grim foe smote<br /> +with atheling’s heirloom. Its edge was turned<br /> +brown blade, on the bone, and bit more feebly<br /> +than its noble master had need of then<br /> +in his baleful stress. -- Then the barrow’s keeper<br /> +waxed full wild for that weighty blow,<br /> +cast deadly flames; wide drove and far<br /> +those vicious fires. No victor’s glory<br /> +the Geats’ lord boasted; his brand had failed,<br /> +naked in battle, as never it should,<br /> +excellent iron! -- ’Twas no easy path<br /> +that Ecgtheow’s honored heir must tread<br /> +over the plain to the place of the foe;<br /> +for against his will he must win a home<br /> +elsewhere far, as must all men, leaving<br /> +this lapsing life! -- Not long it was<br /> +ere those champions grimly closed again.<br /> +The hoard-guard was heartened; high heaved his breast<br /> +once more; and by peril was pressed again,<br /> +enfolded in flames, the folk-commander!<br /> +Nor yet about him his band of comrades,<br /> +sons of athelings, armed stood<br /> +with warlike front: to the woods they bent them,<br /> +their lives to save. But the soul of one<br /> +with care was cumbered. Kinship true<br /> +can never be marred in a noble mind!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXIV</p> +<p>WIGLAF his name was, Weohstan’s son,<br /> +linden-thane loved, the lord of Scylfings,<br /> +Aelfhere’s kinsman. His king he now saw<br /> +with heat under helmet hard oppressed.<br /> +He minded the prizes his prince had given him,<br /> +wealthy seat of the Waegmunding line,<br /> +and folk-rights that his father owned<br /> +Not long he lingered. The linden yellow,<br /> +his shield, he seized; the old sword he drew: --<br /> +as heirloom of Eanmund earth-dwellers knew it,<br /> +who was slain by the sword-edge, son of Ohtere,<br /> +friendless exile, erst in fray<br /> +killed by Weohstan, who won for his kin<br /> +brown-bright helmet, breastplate ringed,<br /> +old sword of Eotens, Onela’s gift,<br /> +weeds of war of the warrior-thane,<br /> +battle-gear brave: though a brother’s child<br /> +had been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onela. <a name="citation34a"></a><a href="#footnote34a">{34a}</a><br /> +For winters this war-gear Weohstan kept,<br /> +breastplate and board, till his bairn had grown<br /> +earlship to earn as the old sire did:<br /> +then he gave him, mid Geats, the gear of battle,<br /> +portion huge, when he passed from life,<br /> +fared aged forth. For the first time now<br /> +with his leader-lord the liegeman young<br /> +was bidden to share the shock of battle.<br /> +Neither softened his soul, nor the sire’s bequest<br /> +weakened in war. <a name="citation34b"></a><a href="#footnote34b">{34b}</a> So the worm found out<br /> +when once in fight the foes had met!<br /> +Wiglaf spake, -- and his words were sage;<br /> +sad in spirit, he said to his comrades: --<br /> +“I remember the time, when mead we took,<br /> +what promise we made to this prince of ours<br /> +in the banquet-hall, to our breaker-of-rings,<br /> +for gear of combat to give him requital,<br /> +for hard-sword and helmet, if hap should bring<br /> +stress of this sort! Himself who chose us<br /> +from all his army to aid him now,<br /> +urged us to glory, and gave these treasures,<br /> +because he counted us keen with the spear<br /> +and hardy ’neath helm, though this hero-work<br /> +our leader hoped unhelped and alone<br /> +to finish for us, -- folk-defender<br /> +who hath got him glory greater than all men<br /> +for daring deeds! Now the day is come<br /> +that our noble master has need of the might<br /> +of warriors stout. Let us stride along<br /> +the hero to help while the heat is about him<br /> +glowing and grim! For God is my witness<br /> +I am far more fain the fire should seize<br /> +along with my lord these limbs of mine! <a name="citation34c"></a><a href="#footnote34c">{34c}</a><br /> +Unsuiting it seems our shields to bear<br /> +homeward hence, save here we essay<br /> +to fell the foe and defend the life<br /> +of the Weders’ lord. I wot ’twere shame<br /> +on the law of our land if alone the king<br /> +out of Geatish warriors woe endured<br /> +and sank in the struggle! My sword and helmet,<br /> +breastplate and board, for us both shall serve!”<br /> +Through slaughter-reek strode he to succor his chieftain,<br /> +his battle-helm bore, and brief words spake: --<br /> +“Beowulf dearest, do all bravely,<br /> +as in youthful days of yore thou vowedst<br /> +that while life should last thou wouldst let no wise<br /> +thy glory droop! Now, great in deeds,<br /> +atheling steadfast, with all thy strength<br /> +shield thy life! I will stand to help thee.”<br /> +At the words the worm came once again,<br /> +murderous monster mad with rage,<br /> +with fire-billows flaming, its foes to seek,<br /> +the hated men. In heat-waves burned<br /> +that board <a name="citation34d"></a><a href="#footnote34d">{34d}</a> to the boss, and the breastplate failed<br /> +to shelter at all the spear-thane young.<br /> +Yet quickly under his kinsman’s shield<br /> +went eager the earl, since his own was now<br /> +all burned by the blaze. The bold king again<br /> +had mind of his glory: with might his glaive<br /> +was driven into the dragon’s head, --<br /> +blow nerved by hate. But Naegling <a name="citation34e"></a><a href="#footnote34e">{34e}</a> +was shivered,<br /> +broken in battle was Beowulf’s sword,<br /> +old and gray. ’Twas granted him not<br /> +that ever the edge of iron at all<br /> +could help him at strife: too strong was his hand,<br /> +so the tale is told, and he tried too far<br /> +with strength of stroke all swords he wielded,<br /> +though sturdy their steel: they steaded him nought.<br /> +Then for the third time thought on its feud<br /> +that folk-destroyer, fire-dread dragon,<br /> +and rushed on the hero, where room allowed,<br /> +battle-grim, burning; its bitter teeth<br /> +closed on his neck, and covered him<br /> +with waves of blood from his breast that welled.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXV</p> +<p>’TWAS now, men say, in his sovran’s need<br /> +that the earl made known his noble strain,<br /> +craft and keenness and courage enduring.<br /> +Heedless of harm, though his hand was burned,<br /> +hardy-hearted, he helped his kinsman.<br /> +A little lower the loathsome beast<br /> +he smote with sword; his steel drove in<br /> +bright and burnished; that blaze began<br /> +to lose and lessen. At last the king<br /> +wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,<br /> +a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,<br /> +and the Weders’-helm smote that worm asunder,<br /> +felled the foe, flung forth its life.<br /> +So had they killed it, kinsmen both,<br /> +athelings twain: thus an earl should be<br /> +in danger’s day! -- Of deeds of valor<br /> +this conqueror’s-hour of the king was last,<br /> +of his work in the world. The wound began,<br /> +which that dragon-of-earth had erst inflicted,<br /> +to swell and smart; and soon he found<br /> +in his breast was boiling, baleful and deep,<br /> +pain of poison. The prince walked on,<br /> +wise in his thought, to the wall of rock;<br /> +then sat, and stared at the structure of giants,<br /> +where arch of stone and steadfast column<br /> +upheld forever that hall in earth.<br /> +Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless<br /> +lave with water his winsome lord,<br /> +the king and conqueror covered with blood,<br /> +with struggle spent, and unspan his helmet.<br /> +Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt,<br /> +his mortal wound; full well he knew<br /> +his portion now was past and gone<br /> +of earthly bliss, and all had fled<br /> +of his file of days, and death was near:<br /> +“I would fain bestow on son of mine<br /> +this gear of war, were given me now<br /> +that any heir should after me come<br /> +of my proper blood. This people I ruled<br /> +fifty winters. No folk-king was there,<br /> +none at all, of the neighboring clans<br /> +who war would wage me with ’warriors’-friends’ <a name="citation35a"></a><a href="#footnote35a">{35a}</a><br /> +and threat me with horrors. At home I bided<br /> +what fate might come, and I cared for mine own;<br /> +feuds I sought not, nor falsely swore<br /> +ever on oath. For all these things,<br /> +though fatally wounded, fain am I!<br /> +From the Ruler-of-Man no wrath shall seize me,<br /> +when life from my frame must flee away,<br /> +for killing of kinsmen! Now quickly go<br /> +and gaze on that hoard ’neath the hoary rock,<br /> +Wiglaf loved, now the worm lies low,<br /> +sleeps, heart-sore, of his spoil bereaved.<br /> +And fare in haste. I would fain behold<br /> +the gorgeous heirlooms, golden store,<br /> +have joy in the jewels and gems, lay down<br /> +softlier for sight of this splendid hoard<br /> +my life and the lordship I long have held.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXVI</p> +<p>I HAVE heard that swiftly the son of Weohstan<br /> +at wish and word of his wounded king, --<br /> +war-sick warrior, -- woven mail-coat,<br /> +battle-sark, bore ’neath the barrow’s roof.<br /> +Then the clansman keen, of conquest proud,<br /> +passing the seat, <a name="citation36a"></a><a href="#footnote36a">{36a}</a> saw store of jewels<br /> +and glistening gold the ground along;<br /> +by the wall were marvels, and many a vessel<br /> +in the den of the dragon, the dawn-flier old:<br /> +unburnished bowls of bygone men<br /> +reft of richness; rusty helms<br /> +of the olden age; and arm-rings many<br /> +wondrously woven. -- Such wealth of gold,<br /> +booty from barrow, can burden with pride<br /> +each human wight: let him hide it who will! --<br /> +His glance too fell on a gold-wove banner<br /> +high o’er the hoard, of handiwork noblest,<br /> +brilliantly broidered; so bright its gleam,<br /> +all the earth-floor he easily saw<br /> +and viewed all these vessels. No vestige now<br /> +was seen of the serpent: the sword had ta’en him.<br /> +Then, I heard, the hill of its hoard was reft,<br /> +old work of giants, by one alone;<br /> +he burdened his bosom with beakers and plate<br /> +at his own good will, and the ensign took,<br /> +brightest of beacons. -- The blade of his lord<br /> +-- its edge was iron -- had injured deep<br /> +one that guarded the golden hoard<br /> +many a year and its murder-fire<br /> +spread hot round the barrow in horror-billows<br /> +at midnight hour, till it met its doom.<br /> +Hasted the herald, the hoard so spurred him<br /> +his track to retrace; he was troubled by doubt,<br /> +high-souled hero, if haply he’d find<br /> +alive, where he left him, the lord of Weders,<br /> +weakening fast by the wall of the cave.<br /> +So he carried the load. His lord and king<br /> +he found all bleeding, famous chief<br /> +at the lapse of life. The liegeman again<br /> +plashed him with water, till point of word<br /> +broke through the breast-hoard. Beowulf spake,<br /> +sage and sad, as he stared at the gold. --<br /> +“For the gold and treasure, to God my thanks,<br /> +to the Wielder-of-Wonders, with words I say,<br /> +for what I behold, to Heaven’s Lord,<br /> +for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk<br /> +or ever the day of my death be run!<br /> +Now I’ve bartered here for booty of treasure<br /> +the last of my life, so look ye well<br /> +to the needs of my land! No longer I tarry.<br /> +A barrow bid ye the battle-fanned raise<br /> +for my ashes. ’Twill shine by the shore of the flood,<br /> +to folk of mine memorial fair<br /> +on Hrones Headland high uplifted,<br /> +that ocean-wanderers oft may hail<br /> +Beowulf’s Barrow, as back from far<br /> +they drive their keels o’er the darkling wave.”<br /> +From his neck he unclasped the collar of gold,<br /> +valorous king, to his vassal gave it<br /> +with bright-gold helmet, breastplate, and ring,<br /> +to the youthful thane: bade him use them in joy.<br /> +“Thou art end and remnant of all our race<br /> +the Waegmunding name. For Wyrd hath swept them,<br /> +all my line, to the land of doom,<br /> +earls in their glory: I after them go.”<br /> +This word was the last which the wise old man<br /> +harbored in heart ere hot death-waves<br /> +of balefire he chose. From his bosom fled<br /> +his soul to seek the saints’ reward.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXVII</p> +<p>IT was heavy hap for that hero young<br /> +on his lord beloved to look and find him<br /> +lying on earth with life at end,<br /> +sorrowful sight. But the slayer too,<br /> +awful earth-dragon, empty of breath,<br /> +lay felled in fight, nor, fain of its treasure,<br /> +could the writhing monster rule it more.<br /> +For edges of iron had ended its days,<br /> +hard and battle-sharp, hammers’ leaving; <a name="citation37a"></a><a href="#footnote37a">{37a}</a><br /> +and that flier-afar had fallen to ground<br /> +hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near,<br /> +no longer lusty aloft to whirl<br /> +at midnight, making its merriment seen,<br /> +proud of its prizes: prone it sank<br /> +by the handiwork of the hero-king.<br /> +Forsooth among folk but few achieve,<br /> +-- though sturdy and strong, as stories tell me,<br /> +and never so daring in deed of valor, --<br /> +the perilous breath of a poison-foe<br /> +to brave, and to rush on the ring-board hall,<br /> +whenever his watch the warden keeps<br /> +bold in the barrow. Beowulf paid<br /> +the price of death for that precious hoard;<br /> +and each of the foes had found the end<br /> +of this fleeting life.<br /> +Befell erelong<br /> +that the laggards in war the wood had left,<br /> +trothbreakers, cowards, ten together,<br /> +fearing before to flourish a spear<br /> +in the sore distress of their sovran lord.<br /> +Now in their shame their shields they carried,<br /> +armor of fight, where the old man lay;<br /> +and they gazed on Wiglaf. Wearied he sat<br /> +at his sovran’s shoulder, shieldsman good,<br /> +to wake him with water. <a name="citation37b"></a><a href="#footnote37b">{37b}</a> +Nowise it availed.<br /> +Though well he wished it, in world no more<br /> +could he barrier life for that leader-of-battles<br /> +nor baffle the will of all-wielding God.<br /> +Doom of the Lord was law o’er the deeds<br /> +of every man, as it is to-day.<br /> +Grim was the answer, easy to get,<br /> +from the youth for those that had yielded to fear!<br /> +Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan, --<br /> +mournful he looked on those men unloved: --<br /> +“Who sooth will speak, can say indeed<br /> +that the ruler who gave you golden rings<br /> +and the harness of war in which ye stand<br /> +-- for he at ale-bench often-times<br /> +bestowed on hall-folk helm and breastplate,<br /> +lord to liegemen, the likeliest gear<br /> +which near of far he could find to give, --<br /> +threw away and wasted these weeds of battle,<br /> +on men who failed when the foemen came!<br /> +Not at all could the king of his comrades-in-arms<br /> +venture to vaunt, though the Victory-Wielder,<br /> +God, gave him grace that he got revenge<br /> +sole with his sword in stress and need.<br /> +To rescue his life, ’twas little that I<br /> +could serve him in struggle; yet shift I made<br /> +(hopeless it seemed) to help my kinsman.<br /> +Its strength ever waned, when with weapon I struck<br /> +that fatal foe, and the fire less strongly<br /> +flowed from its head. -- Too few the heroes<br /> +in throe of contest that thronged to our king!<br /> +Now gift of treasure and girding of sword,<br /> +joy of the house and home-delight<br /> +shall fail your folk; his freehold-land<br /> +every clansman within your kin<br /> +shall lose and leave, when lords high-born<br /> +hear afar of that flight of yours,<br /> +a fameless deed. Yea, death is better<br /> +for liegemen all than a life of shame!”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXVIII</p> +<p>THAT battle-toil bade he at burg to announce,<br /> +at the fort on the cliff, where, full of sorrow,<br /> +all the morning earls had sat,<br /> +daring shieldsmen, in doubt of twain:<br /> +would they wail as dead, or welcome home,<br /> +their lord beloved? Little <a name="citation38a"></a><a href="#footnote38a">{38a}</a> kept back<br /> +of the tidings new, but told them all,<br /> +the herald that up the headland rode. --<br /> +“Now the willing-giver to Weder folk<br /> +in death-bed lies; the Lord of Geats<br /> +on the slaughter-bed sleeps by the serpent’s deed!<br /> +And beside him is stretched that slayer-of-men<br /> +with knife-wounds sick: <a name="citation38b"></a><a href="#footnote38b">{38b}</a> no sword availed<br /> +on the awesome thing in any wise<br /> +to work a wound. There Wiglaf sitteth,<br /> +Weohstan’s bairn, by Beowulf’s side,<br /> +the living earl by the other dead,<br /> +and heavy of heart a head-watch <a name="citation38c"></a><a href="#footnote38c">{38c}</a> +keeps<br /> +o’er friend and foe. -- Now our folk may look<br /> +for waging of war when once unhidden<br /> +to Frisian and Frank the fall of the king<br /> +is spread afar. -- The strife began<br /> +when hot on the Hugas <a name="citation38d"></a><a href="#footnote38d">{38d}</a> +Hygelac fell<br /> +and fared with his fleet to the Frisian land.<br /> +Him there the Hetwaras humbled in war,<br /> +plied with such prowess their power o’erwhelming<br /> +that the bold-in-battle bowed beneath it<br /> +and fell in fight. To his friends no wise<br /> +could that earl give treasure! And ever since<br /> +the Merowings’ favor has failed us wholly.<br /> +Nor aught expect I of peace and faith<br /> +from Swedish folk. ’Twas spread afar<br /> +how Ongentheow reft at Ravenswood<br /> +Haethcyn Hrethling of hope and life,<br /> +when the folk of Geats for the first time sought<br /> +in wanton pride the Warlike-Scylfings.<br /> +Soon the sage old sire <a name="citation38e"></a><a href="#footnote38e">{38e}</a> +of Ohtere,<br /> +ancient and awful, gave answering blow;<br /> +the sea-king <a name="citation38f"></a><a href="#footnote38f">{38f}</a> he slew, +and his spouse redeemed,<br /> +his good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold,<br /> +mother of Ohtere and Onela.<br /> +Then he followed his foes, who fled before him<br /> +sore beset and stole their way,<br /> +bereft of a ruler, to Ravenswood.</p> +<p>With his host he besieged there what swords had left,<br /> +the weary and wounded; woes he threatened<br /> +the whole night through to that hard-pressed throng:<br /> +some with the morrow his sword should kill,<br /> +some should go to the gallows-tree<br /> +for rapture of ravens. But rescue came<br /> +with dawn of day for those desperate men<br /> +when they heard the horn of Hygelac sound,<br /> +tones of his trumpet; the trusty king<br /> +had followed their trail with faithful band.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XXXIX</p> +<p>“THE bloody swath of Swedes and Geats<br /> +and the storm of their strife, were seen afar,<br /> +how folk against folk the fight had wakened.<br /> +The ancient king with his atheling band<br /> +sought his citadel, sorrowing much:<br /> +Ongentheow earl went up to his burg.<br /> +He had tested Hygelac’s hardihood,<br /> +the proud one’s prowess, would prove it no longer,<br /> +defied no more those fighting-wanderers<br /> +nor hoped from the seamen to save his hoard,<br /> +his bairn and his bride: so he bent him again,<br /> +old, to his earth-walls. Yet after him came<br /> +with slaughter for Swedes the standards of Hygelac<br /> +o’er peaceful plains in pride advancing,<br /> +till Hrethelings fought in the fenced town. <a name="citation39a"></a><a href="#footnote39a">{39a}</a><br /> +Then Ongentheow with edge of sword,<br /> +the hoary-bearded, was held at bay,<br /> +and the folk-king there was forced to suffer<br /> +Eofor’s anger. In ire, at the king<br /> +Wulf Wonreding with weapon struck;<br /> +and the chieftain’s blood, for that blow, in streams<br /> +flowed ’neath his hair. No fear felt he,<br /> +stout old Scylfing, but straightway repaid<br /> +in better bargain that bitter stroke<br /> +and faced his foe with fell intent.<br /> +Nor swift enough was the son of Wonred<br /> +answer to render the aged chief;<br /> +too soon on his head the helm was cloven;<br /> +blood-bedecked he bowed to earth,<br /> +and fell adown; not doomed was he yet,<br /> +and well he waxed, though the wound was sore.<br /> +Then the hardy Hygelac-thane, <a name="citation39b"></a><a href="#footnote39b">{39b}</a><br /> +when his brother fell, with broad brand smote,<br /> +giants’ sword crashing through giants’-helm<br /> +across the shield-wall: sank the king,<br /> +his folk’s old herdsman, fatally hurt.<br /> +There were many to bind the brother’s wounds<br /> +and lift him, fast as fate allowed<br /> +his people to wield the place-of-war.<br /> +But Eofor took from Ongentheow,<br /> +earl from other, the iron-breastplate,<br /> +hard sword hilted, and helmet too,<br /> +and the hoar-chief’s harness to Hygelac carried,<br /> +who took the trappings, and truly promised<br /> +rich fee ’mid folk, -- and fulfilled it so.<br /> +For that grim strife gave the Geatish lord,<br /> +Hrethel’s offspring, when home he came,<br /> +to Eofor and Wulf a wealth of treasure,<br /> +Each of them had a hundred thousand <a name="citation39c"></a><a href="#footnote39c">{39c}</a><br /> +in land and linked rings; nor at less price reckoned<br /> +mid-earth men such mighty deeds!<br /> +And to Eofor he gave his only daughter<br /> +in pledge of grace, the pride of his home.</p> +<p>“Such is the feud, the foeman’s rage,<br /> +death-hate of men: so I deem it sure<br /> +that the Swedish folk will seek us home<br /> +for this fall of their friends, the fighting-Scylfings,<br /> +when once they learn that our warrior leader<br /> +lifeless lies, who land and hoard<br /> +ever defended from all his foes,<br /> +furthered his folk’s weal, finished his course<br /> +a hardy hero. -- Now haste is best,<br /> +that we go to gaze on our Geatish lord,<br /> +and bear the bountiful breaker-of-rings<br /> +to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely<br /> +shall burn with the warrior. Wealth of jewels,<br /> +gold untold and gained in terror,<br /> +treasure at last with his life obtained,<br /> +all of that booty the brands shall take,<br /> +fire shall eat it. No earl must carry<br /> +memorial jewel. No maiden fair<br /> +shall wreathe her neck with noble ring:<br /> +nay, sad in spirit and shorn of her gold,<br /> +oft shall she pass o’er paths of exile<br /> +now our lord all laughter has laid aside,<br /> +all mirth and revel. Many a spear<br /> +morning-cold shall be clasped amain,<br /> +lifted aloft; nor shall lilt of harp<br /> +those warriors wake; but the wan-hued raven,<br /> +fain o’er the fallen, his feast shall praise<br /> +and boast to the eagle how bravely he ate<br /> +when he and the wolf were wasting the slain.”</p> +<p>So he told his sorrowful tidings,<br /> +and little <a name="citation39d"></a><a href="#footnote39d">{39d}</a> he lied, the loyal man<br /> +of word or of work. The warriors rose;<br /> +sad, they climbed to the Cliff-of-Eagles,<br /> +went, welling with tears, the wonder to view.<br /> +Found on the sand there, stretched at rest,<br /> +their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings<br /> +of old upon them. Ending-day<br /> +had dawned on the doughty-one; death had seized<br /> +in woful slaughter the Weders’ king.<br /> +There saw they, besides, the strangest being,<br /> +loathsome, lying their leader near,<br /> +prone on the field. The fiery dragon,<br /> +fearful fiend, with flame was scorched.<br /> +Reckoned by feet, it was fifty measures<br /> +in length as it lay. Aloft erewhile<br /> +it had revelled by night, and anon come back,<br /> +seeking its den; now in death’s sure clutch<br /> +it had come to the end of its earth-hall joys.<br /> +By it there stood the stoups and jars;<br /> +dishes lay there, and dear-decked swords<br /> +eaten with rust, as, on earth’s lap resting,<br /> +a thousand winters they waited there.<br /> +For all that heritage huge, that gold<br /> +of bygone men, was bound by a spell, <a name="citation39e"></a><a href="#footnote39e">{39e}</a><br /> +so the treasure-hall could be touched by none<br /> +of human kind, -- save that Heaven’s King,<br /> +God himself, might give whom he would,<br /> +Helper of Heroes, the hoard to open, --<br /> +even such a man as seemed to him meet.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XL</p> +<p>A PERILOUS path, it proved, he <a name="citation40a"></a><a href="#footnote40a">{40a}</a> +trod<br /> +who heinously hid, that hall within,<br /> +wealth under wall! Its watcher had killed<br /> +one of a few, <a name="citation40b"></a><a href="#footnote40b">{40b}</a> and the feud was avenged<br /> +in woful fashion. Wondrous seems it,<br /> +what manner a man of might and valor<br /> +oft ends his life, when the earl no longer<br /> +in mead-hall may live with loving friends.<br /> +So Beowulf, when that barrow’s warden<br /> +he sought, and the struggle; himself knew not<br /> +in what wise he should wend from the world at last.<br /> +For <a name="citation40c"></a><a href="#footnote40c">{40c}</a> princes potent, +who placed the gold,<br /> +with a curse to doomsday covered it deep,<br /> +so that marked with sin the man should be,<br /> +hedged with horrors, in hell-bonds fast,<br /> +racked with plagues, who should rob their hoard.<br /> +Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of heaven,<br /> +ever the king had kept in view. <a name="citation40d"></a><a href="#footnote40d">{40d}</a><br /> +Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan: --<br /> +“At the mandate of one, oft warriors many<br /> +sorrow must suffer; and so must we.<br /> +The people’s-shepherd showed not aught<br /> +of care for our counsel, king beloved!<br /> +That guardian of gold he should grapple not, urged we,<br /> +but let him lie where he long had been<br /> +in his earth-hall waiting the end of the world,<br /> +the hest of heaven. -- This hoard is ours<br /> +but grievously gotten; too grim the fate<br /> +which thither carried our king and lord.<br /> +I was within there, and all I viewed,<br /> +the chambered treasure, when chance allowed me<br /> +(and my path was made in no pleasant wise)<br /> +under the earth-wall. Eager, I seized<br /> +such heap from the hoard as hands could bear<br /> +and hurriedly carried it hither back<br /> +to my liege and lord. Alive was he still,<br /> +still wielding his wits. The wise old man<br /> +spake much in his sorrow, and sent you greetings<br /> +and bade that ye build, when he breathed no more,<br /> +on the place of his balefire a barrow high,<br /> +memorial mighty. Of men was he<br /> +worthiest warrior wide earth o’er<br /> +the while he had joy of his jewels and burg.<br /> +Let us set out in haste now, the second time<br /> +to see and search this store of treasure,<br /> +these wall-hid wonders, -- the way I show you, --<br /> +where, gathered near, ye may gaze your fill<br /> +at broad-gold and rings. Let the bier, soon made,<br /> +be all in order when out we come,<br /> +our king and captain to carry thither<br /> +-- man beloved -- where long he shall bide<br /> +safe in the shelter of sovran God.”<br /> +Then the bairn of Weohstan bade command,<br /> +hardy chief, to heroes many<br /> +that owned their homesteads, hither to bring<br /> +firewood from far -- o’er the folk they ruled --<br /> +for the famed-one’s funeral. “ Fire shall devour<br /> +and wan flames feed on the fearless warrior<br /> +who oft stood stout in the iron-shower,<br /> +when, sped from the string, a storm of arrows<br /> +shot o’er the shield-wall: the shaft held firm,<br /> +featly feathered, followed the barb.”<br /> +And now the sage young son of Weohstan<br /> +seven chose of the chieftain’s thanes,<br /> +the best he found that band within,<br /> +and went with these warriors, one of eight,<br /> +under hostile roof. In hand one bore<br /> +a lighted torch and led the way.<br /> +No lots they cast for keeping the hoard<br /> +when once the warriors saw it in hall,<br /> +altogether without a guardian,<br /> +lying there lost. And little they mourned<br /> +when they had hastily haled it out,<br /> +dear-bought treasure! The dragon they cast,<br /> +the worm, o’er the wall for the wave to take,<br /> +and surges swallowed that shepherd of gems.<br /> +Then the woven gold on a wain was laden --<br /> +countless quite! -- and the king was borne,<br /> +hoary hero, to Hrones-Ness.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>XLI</p> +<p>THEN fashioned for him the folk of Geats<br /> +firm on the earth a funeral-pile,<br /> +and hung it with helmets and harness of war<br /> +and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;<br /> +and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,<br /> +heroes mourning their master dear.<br /> +Then on the hill that hugest of balefires<br /> +the warriors wakened. Wood-smoke rose<br /> +black over blaze, and blent was the roar<br /> +of flame with weeping (the wind was still),<br /> +till the fire had broken the frame of bones,<br /> +hot at the heart. In heavy mood<br /> +their misery moaned they, their master’s death.<br /> +Wailing her woe, the widow <a name="citation41a"></a><a href="#footnote41a">{41a}</a> old,<br /> +her hair upbound, for Beowulf’s death<br /> +sung in her sorrow, and said full oft<br /> +she dreaded the doleful days to come,<br /> +deaths enow, and doom of battle,<br /> +and shame. -- The smoke by the sky was devoured.<br /> +The folk of the Weders fashioned there<br /> +on the headland a barrow broad and high,<br /> +by ocean-farers far descried:<br /> +in ten days’ time their toil had raised it,<br /> +the battle-brave’s beacon. Round brands of the pyre<br /> +a wall they built, the worthiest ever<br /> +that wit could prompt in their wisest men.<br /> +They placed in the barrow that precious booty,<br /> +the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile,<br /> +hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, --<br /> +trusting the ground with treasure of earls,<br /> +gold in the earth, where ever it lies<br /> +useless to men as of yore it was.<br /> +Then about that barrow the battle-keen rode,<br /> +atheling-born, a band of twelve,<br /> +lament to make, to mourn their king,<br /> +chant their dirge, and their chieftain honor.<br /> +They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess<br /> +worthily witnessed: and well it is<br /> +that men their master-friend mightily laud,<br /> +heartily love, when hence he goes<br /> +from life in the body forlorn away.</p> +<p>Thus made their mourning the men of Geatland,<br /> +for their hero’s passing his hearth-companions:<br /> +quoth that of all the kings of earth,<br /> +of men he was mildest and most beloved,<br /> +to his kin the kindest, keenest for praise.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> + +<p>Footnotes:</p> +<p><a name="footnote0a"></a><a href="#citation0a">{0a}</a> Not, of course, +Beowulf the Great, hero of the epic.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote0b"></a><a href="#citation0b">{0b}</a> Kenning for +king or chieftain of a comitatus: he breaks off gold from the spiral +rings -- often worn on the arm -- and so rewards his followers.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1a"></a><a href="#citation1a">{1a}</a> That is, +“The Hart,” or “Stag,” so called from decorations +in the gables that resembled the antlers of a deer. This hall has been +carefully described in a pamphlet by Heyne. The building was rectangular, +with opposite doors -- mainly west and east -- and a hearth in the middle +of th single room. A row of pillars down each side, at some distance +from the walls, made a space which was raised a little above the main +floor, and was furnished with two rows of seats. On one side, usually +south, was the high-seat midway between the doors. Opposite this, on +the other raised space, was another seat of honor. At the banquet soon +to be described, Hrothgar sat in the south or chief high-seat, and Beowulf +opposite to him. The scene for a flying (see below, v.499) was thus +very effectively set. Planks on trestles -- the “board” +of later English literature -- formed the tables just in front of the +long rows of seats, and were taken away after banquets, when the retainers +were ready to stretch themselves out for sleep on the benches.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1b"></a><a href="#citation1b">{1b}</a> Fire was +the usual end of these halls. See v. 781 below. One thinks of the splendid +scene at the end of the Nibelungen, of the Nialssaga, of Saxo’s +story of Amlethus, and many a less famous instance.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1c"></a><a href="#citation1c">{1c}</a> It is to +be supposed that all hearers of this poem knew how Hrothgar’s +hall was burnt, -- perhaps in the unsuccessful attack made on him by +his son-in-law Ingeld.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1d"></a><a href="#citation1d">{1d}</a> A skilled +minstrel. The Danes are heathens, as one is told presently; but this +lay of beginnings is taken from Genesis.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1e"></a><a href="#citation1e">{1e}</a> A disturber +of the border, one who sallies from his haunt in the fen and roams over +the country near by. This probably pagan nuisance is now furnished with +biblical credentials as a fiend or devil in good standing, so that all +Christian Englishmen might read about him. “Grendel” may +mean one who grinds and crushes.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1f"></a><a href="#citation1f">{1f}</a> Cain’s.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote1g"></a><a href="#citation1g">{1g}</a> Giants.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote2a"></a><a href="#citation2a">{2a}</a> The smaller +buildings within the main enclosure but separate from the hall.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote2b"></a><a href="#citation2b">{2b}</a> Grendel.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote2c"></a><a href="#citation2c">{2c}</a> “Sorcerers-of-hell.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote2d"></a><a href="#citation2d">{2d}</a> Hrothgar, +who is the “Scyldings’-friend” of 170.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote2e"></a><a href="#citation2e">{2e}</a> That is, +in formal or prescribed phrase.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote3a"></a><a href="#citation3a">{3a}</a> Ship.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote3b"></a><a href="#citation3b">{3b}</a> That is, +since Beowulf selected his ship and led his men to the harbor.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote3c"></a><a href="#citation3c">{3c}</a> One of the +auxiliary names of the Geats.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote3d"></a><a href="#citation3d">{3d}</a> Or: Not thus +openly ever came warriors hither; yet...</p> + +<p><a name="footnote4a"></a><a href="#citation4a">{4a}</a> Hrothgar.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote4b"></a><a href="#citation4b">{4b}</a> Beowulf’s +helmet has several boar-images on it; he is the “man of war”; +and the boar-helmet guards him as typical representative of the marching +party as a whole. The boar was sacred to Freyr, who was the favorite +god of the Germanic tribes about the North Sea and the Baltic. Rude +representations of warriors show the boar on the helmet quite as large +as the helmet itself.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote5a"></a><a href="#citation5a">{5a}</a> Either merely +paved, the strata via of the Romans, or else thought of as a sort of +mosaic, an extravagant touch like the reckless waste of gold on the +walls and roofs of a hall.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote6a"></a><a href="#citation6a">{6a}</a> The nicor, +says Bugge, is a hippopotamus; a walrus, says Ten Brink. But that water-goblin +who covers the space from Old Nick of jest to the Neckan and Nix of +poetry and tale, is all one needs, and Nicor is a good name for him.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote6b"></a><a href="#citation6b">{6b}</a> His own people, +the Geats.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote6c"></a><a href="#citation6c">{6c}</a> That is, +cover it as with a face-cloth. “There will be no need of funeral +rites.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote6d"></a><a href="#citation6d">{6d}</a> Personification +of Battle.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote6e"></a><a href="#citation6e">{6e}</a> The Germanic +Vulcan.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote6f"></a><a href="#citation6f">{6f}</a> This mighty +power, whom the Christian poet can still revere, has here the general +force of “Destiny.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote7a"></a><a href="#citation7a">{7a}</a> There is +no irrelevance here. Hrothgar sees in Beowulf’s mission a heritage +of duty, a return of the good offices which the Danish king rendered +to Beowulf’s father in time of dire need.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote7b"></a><a href="#citation7b">{7b}</a> Money, for +wergild, or man-price.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote7c"></a><a href="#citation7c">{7c}</a> Ecgtheow, +Beowulf’s sire.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote8a"></a><a href="#citation8a">{8a}</a> “Began +the fight.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote8b"></a><a href="#citation8b">{8b}</a> Breca.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote9a"></a><a href="#citation9a">{9a}</a> Murder.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote10a"></a><a href="#citation10a">{10a}</a> Beowulf, +-- the “one.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote11a"></a><a href="#citation11a">{11a}</a> That is, +he was a “lost soul,” doomed to hell.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote12a"></a><a href="#citation12a">{12a}</a> Kenning +for Beowulf.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote13a"></a><a href="#citation13a">{13a}</a> “Guarded +the treasure.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote13b"></a><a href="#citation13b">{13b}</a> Sc. Heremod.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote13c"></a><a href="#citation13c">{13c}</a> The singer +has sung his lays, and the epic resumes its story. The time-relations +are not altogether good in this long passage which describes the rejoicings +of “the day after”; but the present shift from the riders +on the road to the folk at the hall is not very violent, and is of a +piece with the general style.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote14a"></a><a href="#citation14a">{14a}</a> Unferth, +Beowulf’s sometime opponent in the flyting.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote15a"></a><a href="#citation15a">{15a}</a> There +is no horrible inconsistency here such as the critics strive and cry +about. In spite of the ruin that Grendel and Beowulf had made within +the hall, the framework and roof held firm, and swift repairs made the +interior habitable. Tapestries were hung on the walls, and willing hands +prepared the banquet.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote15b"></a><a href="#citation15b">{15b}</a> From its +formal use in other places, this phrase, to take cup in hall, or “on +the floor,” would seem to mean that Beowulf stood up to receive +his gifts, drink to the donor, and say thanks.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote15c"></a><a href="#citation15c">{15c}</a> Kenning +for sword.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote15d"></a><a href="#citation15d">{15d}</a> Hrothgar. +He is also the “refuge of the friends of Ing,” below. Ing +belongs to myth.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote15e"></a><a href="#citation15e">{15e}</a> Horses +are frequently led or ridden into the hall where folk sit at banquet: +so in Chaucer’s Squire’s tale, in the ballad of King Estmere, +and in the romances.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16a"></a><a href="#citation16a">{16a}</a> Man-price, +wergild.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16b"></a><a href="#citation16b">{16b}</a> Beowulf’s.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16c"></a><a href="#citation16c">{16c}</a> Hrothgar.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16d"></a><a href="#citation16d">{16d}</a> There +is no need to assume a gap in the Ms. As before about Sigemund and Heremod, +so now, though at greater length, about Finn and his feud, a lay is +chanted or recited; and the epic poet, counting on his readers’ +familiarity with the story, -- a fragment of it still exists, -- simply +gives the headings.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16e"></a><a href="#citation16e">{16e}</a> The exact +story to which this episode refers in summary is not to be determined, +but the following account of it is reasonable and has good support among +scholars. Finn, a Frisian chieftain, who nevertheless has a “castle” +outside the Frisian border, marries Hildeburh, a Danish princess; and +her brother, Hnaef, with many other Danes, pays Finn a visit. Relations +between the two peoples have been strained before. Something starts +the old feud anew; and the visitors are attacked in their quarters. +Hnaef is killed; so is a son of Hildeburh. Many fall on both sides. +Peace is patched up; a stately funeral is held; and the surviving visitors +become in a way vassals or liegemen of Finn, going back with him to +Frisia. So matters rest a while. Hengest is now leader of the Danes; +but he is set upon revenge for his former lord, Hnaef. Probably he is +killed in feud; but his clansmen, Guthlaf and Oslaf, gather at their +home a force of sturdy Danes, come back to Frisia, storm Finn’s +stronghold, kill him, and carry back their kinswoman Hildeburh.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16f"></a><a href="#citation16f">{16f}</a> The “enemies” +must be the Frisians.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16g"></a><a href="#citation16g">{16g}</a> Battlefield. +-- Hengest is the “prince’s thane,” companion of Hnaef. +“Folcwald’s son” is Finn.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16h"></a><a href="#citation16h">{16h}</a> That is, +Finn would govern in all honor the few Danish warriors who were left, +provided, of course, that none of them tried to renew the quarrel or +avenge Hnaef their fallen lord. If, again, one of Finn’s Frisians +began a quarrel, he should die by the sword.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16i"></a><a href="#citation16i">{16i}</a> Hnaef.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16j"></a><a href="#citation16j">{16j}</a> The high +place chosen for the funeral: see description of Beowulf’s funeral-pile +at the end of the poem.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote16k"></a><a href="#citation16k">{16k}</a> Wounds.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote17a"></a><a href="#citation17a">{17a}</a> That is, +these two Danes, escaping home, had told the story of the attack on +Hnaef, the slaying of Hengest, and all the Danish woes. Collecting a +force, they return to Frisia and kill Finn in his home.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote17b"></a><a href="#citation17b">{17b}</a> Nephew +to Hrothgar, with whom he subsequently quarrels, and elder cousin to +the two young sons of Hrothgar and Wealhtheow, -- their natural guardian +in the event of the king’s death. There is something finely feminine +in this speech of Wealhtheow’s, apart from its somewhat irregular +and irrelevant sequence of topics. Both she and her lord probably distrust +Hrothulf; but she bids the king to be of good cheer, and, turning to +the suspect, heaps affectionate assurances on his probity. “My +own Hrothulf” will surely not forget these favors and benefits +of the past, but will repay them to the orphaned boy.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote19a"></a><a href="#citation19a">{19a}</a> They had +laid their arms on the benches near where they slept.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote20a"></a><a href="#citation20a">{20a}</a> He surmises +presently where she is.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote20b"></a><a href="#citation20b">{20b}</a> The connection +is not difficult. The words of mourning, of acute grief, are said; and +according to Germanic sequence of thought, inexorable here, the next +and only topic is revenge. But is it possible? Hrothgar leads up to +his appeal and promise with a skillful and often effective description +of the horrors which surround the monster’s home and await the +attempt of an avenging foe.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote21a"></a><a href="#citation21a">{21a}</a> Hrothgar +is probably meant.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote21b"></a><a href="#citation21b">{21b}</a> Meeting +place.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote22a"></a><a href="#citation22a">{22a}</a> Kenning +for “sword.” Hrunting is bewitched, laid under a spell of +uselessness, along with all other swords.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote22b"></a><a href="#citation22b">{22b}</a> This brown +of swords, evidently meaning burnished, bright, continues to be a favorite +adjective in the popular ballads.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote23a"></a><a href="#citation23a">{23a}</a> After +the killing of the monster and Grendel’s decapitation.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote23b"></a><a href="#citation23b">{23b}</a> Hrothgar.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote23c"></a><a href="#citation23c">{23c}</a> The blade +slowly dissolves in blood-stained drops like icicles.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote23d"></a><a href="#citation23d">{23d}</a> Spear.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote24a"></a><a href="#citation24a">{24a}</a> That is, +“whoever has as wide authority as I have and can remember so far +back so many instances of heroism, may well say, as I say, that no better +hero ever lived than Beowulf.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote25a"></a><a href="#citation25a">{25a}</a> That is, +he is now undefended by conscience from the temptations (shafts) of +the devil.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote25b"></a><a href="#citation25b">{25b}</a> Kenning +for the sun. -- This is a strange role for the raven. He is the warrior’s +bird of battle, exults in slaughter and carnage; his joy here is a compliment +to the sunrise.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote26a"></a><a href="#citation26a">{26a}</a> That is, +he might or might not see Beowulf again. Old as he was, the latter chance +was likely; but he clung to the former, hoping to see his young friend +again “and exchange brave words in the hall.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote27a"></a><a href="#citation27a">{27a}</a> With the +speed of the boat.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote27b"></a><a href="#citation27b">{27b}</a> Queen +to Hygelac. She is praised by contrast with the antitype, Thryth, just +as Beowulf was praised by contrast with Heremod.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote27c"></a><a href="#citation27c">{27c}</a> Kenning +for “wife.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote28a"></a><a href="#citation28a">{28a}</a> Beowulf +gives his uncle the king not mere gossip of his journey, but a statesmanlike +forecast of the outcome of certain policies at the Danish court. Talk +of interpolation here is absurd. As both Beowulf and Hygelac know, -- +and the folk for whom the Beowulf was put together also knew, -- Froda +was king of the Heathobards (probably the Langobards, once near neighbors +of Angle and Saxon tribes on the continent), and had fallen in fight +with the Danes. Hrothgar will set aside this feud by giving his daughter +as “peace-weaver” and wife to the young king Ingeld, son +of the slain Froda. But Beowulf, on general principles and from his +observation of the particular case, foretells trouble. Note:</p> + +<p><a name="footnote28b"></a><a href="#citation28b">{28b}</a> Play of +shields, battle. A Danish warrior cuts down Froda in the fight, and +takes his sword and armor, leaving them to a son. This son is selected +to accompany his mistress, the young princess Freawaru, to her new home +when she is Ingeld’s queen. Heedlessly he wears the sword of Froda +in hall. An old warrior points it out to Ingeld, and eggs him on to +vengeance. At his instigation the Dane is killed; but the murderer, +afraid of results, and knowing the land, escapes. So the old feud must +break out again.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote28c"></a><a href="#citation28c">{28c}</a> That is, +their disastrous battle and the slaying of their king.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote28d"></a><a href="#citation28d">{28d}</a> The sword.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote28e"></a><a href="#citation28e">{28e}</a> Beowulf +returns to his forecast. Things might well go somewhat as follows, he +says; sketches a little tragic story; and with this prophecy by illustration +returns to the tale of his adventure.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote28f"></a><a href="#citation28f">{28f}</a> Not an +actual glove, but a sort of bag.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote29a"></a><a href="#citation29a">{29a}</a> Hygelac.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote29b"></a><a href="#citation29b">{29b}</a> This is +generally assumed to mean hides, though the text simply says “seven +thousand.” A hide in England meant about 120 acres, though “the +size of the acre varied.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote29c"></a><a href="#citation29c">{29c}</a> On the +historical raid into Frankish territory between 512 and 520 A.D. The +subsequent course of events, as gathered from hints of this epic, is +partly told in Scandinavian legend.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote29d"></a><a href="#citation29d">{29d}</a> The chronology +of this epic, as scholars have worked it out, would make Beowulf well +over ninety years of age when he fights the dragon. But the fifty years +of his reign need not be taken as historical fact.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote29e"></a><a href="#citation29e">{29e}</a> The text +is here hopelessly illegible, and only the general drift of the meaning +can be rescued. For one thing, we have the old myth of a dragon who +guards hidden treasure. But with this runs the story of some noble, +last of his race, who hides all his wealth within this barrow and there +chants his farewell to life’s glories. After his death the dragon +takes possession of the hoard and watches over it. A condemned or banished +man, desperate, hides in the barrow, discovers the treasure, and while +the dragon sleeps, makes off with a golden beaker or the like, and carries +it for propitiation to his master. The dragon discovers the loss and +exacts fearful penalty from the people round about.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote31a"></a><a href="#citation31a">{31a}</a> Literally +“loan-days,” days loaned to man.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote31b"></a><a href="#citation31b">{31b}</a> Chattuarii, +a tribe that dwelt along the Rhine, and took part in repelling the raid +of (Hygelac) Chocilaicus.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote31c"></a><a href="#citation31c">{31c}</a> Onla, +son of Ongentheow, who pursues his two nephews Eanmund and Eadgils to +Heardred’s court, where they have taken refuge after their unsuccessful +rebellion. In the fighting Heardred is killed.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote32a"></a><a href="#citation32a">{32a}</a> That is, +Beowulf supports Eadgils against Onela, who is slain by Eadgils in revenge +for the “care-paths” of exile into which Onela forced him.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote32b"></a><a href="#citation32b">{32b}</a> That is, +the king could claim no wergild, or man-price, from one son for the +killing of the other.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote32c"></a><a href="#citation32c">{32c}</a> Usual +euphemism for death.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote32d"></a><a href="#citation32d">{32d}</a> Sc. in +the grave.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote33a"></a><a href="#citation33a">{33a}</a> Eofor +for Wulf. -- The immediate provocation for Eofor in killing “the +hoary Scylfing,” Ongentheow, is that the latter has just struck +Wulf down; but the king, Haethcyn, is also avenged by the blow. See +the detailed description below.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote33b"></a><a href="#citation33b">{33b}</a> Hygelac.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote33c"></a><a href="#citation33c">{33c}</a> Shield.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote33d"></a><a href="#citation33d">{33d}</a> The hollow +passage.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote34a"></a><a href="#citation34a">{34a}</a> That is, +although Eanmund was brother’s son to Onela, the slaying of the +former by Weohstan is not felt as cause of feud, and is rewarded by +gift of the slain man’s weapons.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote34b"></a><a href="#citation34b">{34b}</a> Both Wiglaf +and the sword did their duty. -- The following is one of the classic +passages for illustrating the comitatus as the most conspicuous Germanic +institution, and its underlying sense of duty, based partly on the idea +of loyalty and partly on the practical basis of benefits received and +repaid.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote34c"></a><a href="#citation34c">{34c}</a> Sc. “than +to bide safely here,” -- a common figure of incomplete comparison.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote34d"></a><a href="#citation34d">{34d}</a> Wiglaf’s +wooden shield.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote34e"></a><a href="#citation34e">{34e}</a> Gering +would translate “kinsman of the nail,” as both are made +of iron.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote35a"></a><a href="#citation35a">{35a}</a> That is, +swords.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote36a"></a><a href="#citation36a">{36a}</a> Where +Beowulf lay.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote37a"></a><a href="#citation37a">{37a}</a> What had +been left or made by the hammer; well-forged.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote37b"></a><a href="#citation37b">{37b}</a> Trying +to revive him.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote38a"></a><a href="#citation38a">{38a}</a> Nothing.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote38b"></a><a href="#citation38b">{38b}</a> Dead.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote38c"></a><a href="#citation38c">{38c}</a> Death-watch, +guard of honor, “lyke-wake.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote38d"></a><a href="#citation38d">{38d}</a> A name +for the Franks.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote38e"></a><a href="#citation38e">{38e}</a> Ongentheow.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote38f"></a><a href="#citation38f">{38f}</a> Haethcyn.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote39a"></a><a href="#citation39a">{39a}</a> The line +may mean: till Hrethelings stormed on the hedged shields, -- i.e. the +shield-wall or hedge of defensive war -- Hrethelings, of course, are +Geats.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote39b"></a><a href="#citation39b">{39b}</a> Eofor, +brother to Wulf Wonreding.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote39c"></a><a href="#citation39c">{39c}</a> Sc. “value +in” hides and the weight of the gold.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote39d"></a><a href="#citation39d">{39d}</a> Not at +all.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote39e"></a><a href="#citation39e">{39e}</a> Laid on +it when it was put in the barrow. This spell, or in our days the “curse,” +either prevented discovery or brought dire ills on the finder and taker.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote40a"></a><a href="#citation40a">{40a}</a> Probably +the fugitive is meant who discovered the hoard. Ten Brink and Gering +assume that the dragon is meant. “Hid” may well mean here +“took while in hiding.”</p> + +<p><a name="footnote40b"></a><a href="#citation40b">{40b}</a> That is +“one and a few others.” But Beowulf seems to be indicated.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote40c"></a><a href="#citation40c">{40c}</a> Ten Brink +points out the strongly heathen character of this part of the epic. +Beowulf’s end came, so the old tradition ran, from his unwitting +interference with spell-bound treasure.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote40d"></a><a href="#citation40d">{40d}</a> A hard +saying, variously interpreted. In any case, it is the somewhat clumsy +effort of the Christian poet to tone down the heathenism of his material +by an edifying observation.</p> + +<p><a name="footnote41a"></a><a href="#citation41a">{41a}</a> Nothing +is said of Beowulf’s wife in the poem, but Bugge surmises that +Beowulf finally accepted Hygd’s offer of kingdom and hoard, and, +as was usual, took her into the bargain.</p> + +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, BEOWULF ***</p> + +<pre> + +******This file should be named bwulf11h.htm or bwulf11h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, bwulf12h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, bwulf10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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