Chapter 2

I. AND FIRST OF THE KINDRED OF HROTHGAR.What!we of the Spear-Danes of yore days, so was itThat we learn'd of the fair fame of kings of the folksAnd the athelings a-faring in framing of valour.Oft then Scyld the Sheaf-son from the hosts of the scathers,From kindreds a many the mead-settles tore;It was then the earl fear'd them, sithence was he firstFound bare and all-lacking; so solace he bided,Wax'd under the welkin in worship to thrive,Until it was so that the round-about sitters10All over the whale-road must hearken his willAnd yield him the tribute. A good king was that,By whom then thereafter a son was begotten,A youngling in garth, whom the great God sent thitherTo foster the folk; and their crime-need he feltThe load that lay on them while lordless they livedFor a long while and long. He therefore, the Life-lord,The Wielder of glory, world's worship he gave him:Brim Beowulf waxed, and wide the weal upsprangOf the offspring of Scyld in the parts of the Scede-lands.20Such wise shall a youngling with wealth be a-workingWith goodly fee-gifts toward the friends of his father,That after in eld-days shall ever bide with him,Fair fellows well-willing when wendeth the war-tide,Their lief lord a-serving. By praise-deeds it shall beThat in each and all kindreds a man shall have thriving.Then went his ways Scyld when the shapen while was,All hardy to wend him to the lord and his warding:Out then did they bear him to the side of the sea-flood,The dear fellows of him, as he himself pray'd them30While yet his word wielded the friend of the Scyldings,The dear lord of the land; a long while had he own'd it.With stem all be-ringed at the hythe stood the ship,All icy and out-fain, the Atheling's ferry.There then did they lay him, the lord well beloved,The gold-rings' bestower, within the ship's barm,The mighty by mast. Much there was the treasure,From far ways forsooth had the fret-work been led:Never heard I of keel that was comelier dightedWith weapons of war, and with weed of the battle,40With bills and with byrnies. There lay in his barmMuch wealth of the treasure that with him should be,And he into the flood's might afar to depart.No lesser a whit were the wealth-goods they dight himOf the goods of the folk, than did they who aforetime,When was the beginning, first sent him awayAlone o'er the billows, and he but a youngling.Moreover they set him up there a sign goldenHigh up overhead, and let the holm bear him,Gave all to the Spearman. Sad mind they had in them,50And mourning their mood was. Now never knew men,For sooth how to say it, rede-masters in hall,Or heroes 'neath heaven, to whose hands came the lading.II. CONCERNING HROTHGAR, AND HOW HE BUILT THE HOUSE CALLED HART. ALSO GRENDEL IS TOLD OF.Inthe burgs then was biding Beowulf the Scylding,Dear King of the people, for long was he dwellingFar-famed of folks (his father turn'd elsewhere,From his stead the Chief wended) till awoke to him afterHealfdene the high, and long while he held it,Ancient and war-eager, o'er the glad Scyldings:Of his body four bairns are forth to him rimed;60Into the world woke the leader of war-hostsHeorogar; eke Hrothgar, and Halga the good;Heard I that Elan queen was she of Ongentheow,That Scylding of battle, the bed-matebehalsed.Then was unto Hrothgar the war-speed given,Such worship of war that his kin and well-willersWell hearken'd his will till the younglings were waxen,A kin-host a many. Then into his mind ranThat he would be building for him now a hall-house,That men should be making a mead-hall more mighty70Than the children of ages had ever heard tell of:And there within eke should he be out-dealingTo young and to old all things God had given,Save the share of the folk and the life-days of men.Then heard I that widely the work wasa-banningTo kindreds a many the Middle-garth overTo fret o'er that folk-stead. So befell to him timelyRight soon among men that made was it yarelyThe most of hall-houses, and Hart its name shap'd he,Who wielded his word full widely around.80His behest he belied not; it was he dealt the rings,The wealth at the high-tide. Then up rose the hall-house,High up and horn-gabled. Hot surges it bidedOf fire-flame the loathly, nor long was it thenceforthEre sorely the edge-hate 'twixt Son and Wife's FatherAfter the slaughter-strife there should awaken.Then the ghost heavy-strong bore with it hardlyE'en for a while of time, bider in darkness,That there on each day of days heard he the mirth-tideLoud in the hall-house. There was the harp's voice,90And clear song of shaper. Said he who could itTo tell the first fashion of men from aforetime;Quoth how the Almighty One made the Earth's fashion,The fair field and bright midst the bow of the Waters,And with victory beglory'd set Sun and Moon,Bright beams to enlighten the biders on land:And how he adorned all parts of the earthWith limbs and with leaves; and life withal shapedFor the kindred of each thing that quick on earth wendeth.So liv'd on all happy the host of the kinsmen100In game and in glee, until one wight began,A fiend out of hell-pit, the framing of evil,And Grendel forsooth the grim guest was hight,The mighty mark-strider, the holder of moorland,The fen and the fastness. The stead of the fifelThat wight all unhappy a while of time warded,Sithence that the Shaper him had for-written.On the kindred of Cain the Lord living everAwreaked the murder of the slaying of Abel.In that feud he rejoic'd not, but afar him He banish'd,110The Maker, from mankind for the crime he had wrought.But offspring uncouth thence were they awokenEotens and elf-wights, and ogres of ocean,And therewith the Giants, who won war against GodA long while; but He gave them their wages therefor.III. HOW GRENDEL FELL UPON HART AND WASTED IT.Nowwent he a-spying, when come was the night-tide,The house on high builded, and how there the Ring-DanesTheir beer-drinking over had boune them to bed;And therein he found them, the atheling fellows,Asleep after feasting. Then sorrow they knew not120Nor the woe of mankind: but the wight of wealth's waning,The grim and the greedy, soon yare was he gotten,All furious and fierce, and he raught up from restingA thirty of thanes, and thence aback got himRight fain of his gettings, and homeward to fare,Fulfilled of slaughter his stead to go look on.Thereafter at dawning, when day was yet early,The war-craft of Grendel to men grew unhidden,And after his meal was the weeping uphoven,Mickle voice of the morning-tide: there the Prince mighty,130The Atheling exceeding good, unblithe he sat,Tholing the heavy woe; thane-sorrow dreed heSince the slot of the loathly wight there they had look'd on,The ghost all accursed. O'er grisly the strife was,So loathly and longsome. No longer the frist wasBut after the wearing of one night; then fram'd heMurder-bales more yet, and nowise he mournedThe feud and the crime; over fast therein was he.Then easy to find was the man who would elsewhereSeek out for himself a rest was more roomsome,Beds140end-long the bowers, when beacon'd to him was,And soothly out told by manifest token,The hate of the hell-thane. He held himself sithenceFurther and faster who from the fiend gat him.In such wise he rul'd it and wrought against right,But one against all, until idle was standingThe best of hall-houses; and mickle the while was,Twelve winter-tides' wearing; and trouble he tholed,That friend of the Scyldings, of woes every oneAnd wide-spreading sorrows: for sithence it fell150That unto men's children unbidden 'twas knownFull sadly in singing, that Grendel won war'Gainst Hrothgar a while of time, hate-envy waging,And crime-guilts and feud for seasons no few,And strife without stinting. For the sake of no kindnessUnto any of men of the main-host of Dane-folkWould he thrust off the life-bale, or by fee-gild allay it,Nor was there a wise man that needed to weenThe brightbootto have at the hand of the slayer.The monster the fell one afflicted them sorely,160That death-shadow darksome the doughty and youthfulEnfettered, ensnared; night by night was he faringThe moorlands the misty. But never know menOf spell-workers of Hell to and fro where they wander.So crime-guilts a many the foeman of mankind,The fell alone-farer, fram'd oft and full often,Cruel hard shames and wrongful, and Hart he abode in,The treasure-stain'd hall, in the dark of the night-tide;But never the gift-stool therein might he greet,The treasure before the Creator he trow'd not.170Mickle wrack was it soothly for the friend of the Scyldings,Yea heart and mood breaking. Now sat there a manyOf the mighty in rune, and won them the redeOf what thing for the strong-soul'd were best of all thingsWhich yet they might frame 'gainst the fear and the horror.And whiles they behight them at the shrines of the heathenTo worship the idols; and pray'd they in words,That he, the ghost-slayer, would frame for them helping'Gainst the folk-threats and evil So far'd they their wont,The hope of the heathen; nor hell they remember'dIn180mood and in mind. And the Maker they knew not,The Doomer of deeds: nor of God the Lord wist they,Nor the Helm of the Heavens knew aught how to hery,The Wielder of Glory. Woe worth unto that manWho through hatred the baneful his soul shall shove intoThe fire's embrace; nought of fostering weens he,Nor of changing one whit. But well is he soothlyThat after the death-day shall seek to the Lord,In the breast of the Father all peace ever craving.IV. NOW COMES BEOWULF ECGTHEOW’S SON TO THE LAND OF THE DANES, AND THE WALL-WARDEN SPEAKETH WITH HIM.Socare that was time-long the kinsman of Healfdene190Still seeth'd without ceasing, nor might the wise warriorWend otherwhere woe, for o'er strong was the strifeAll loathly so longsome late laid on the people,Need-wrack and grimnithing, of night-bales the greatest.Now that from his home heard the Hygelac's thane,Good midst of the Geat-folk; of Grendel's deeds heard he.But he was of mankind of might and main mightiestIn the day that we tell of, the day of this life,All noble, strong-waxen. He bade a wave-wearerRight good to be gear'd him, and quoth he that the war-kingOver200the swan-road he would be seeking,The folk-lord far-famed, since lack of men had he.Forsooth of that faring the carles wiser-fashion'dLaid little blame on him, though lief to them was he;The heart-hardy whetted they, heeded the omen.There had the good one, e'en he of the Geat-folk,Champions out-chosen of them that he keenestMight find for his needs; and he then the fifteenth,Sought to the sound-wood. A swain thereon show'd him,A sea-crafty man, all the make of the land-marks.210Wore then a while, on the waves was the floater,The boat under the berg, and yare then the warriorsStrode up on the stem; the streams were a-windingThe sea 'gainst the sands. Upbore the swains thenUp into the bark's barm the bright-fretted weapons,The war-array stately; then out the lads shov'd her,The folk on the welcome way shov'd out the wood-bound.Then by the wind driven out o'er the wave-holmFar'd the foamy-neck'd floater most like to a fowl,Till when was the same tide of the second day's wearing220The wound-about-stemm'd one had waded her way,So that then they that sail'd her had sight of the land,Bleak shine of the sea-cliffs, bergs steep up above,Sea-nesses wide reaching; the sound was won over,The sea-way was ended: then up ashore swiftlyThe band of the Weder-folk up on earth wended;They bound up the sea-wood, their sarks on them rattled,Their weed of the battle, and God there they thankedFor that easy the wave-ways were waxen unto them.But now from the wall saw the Scylding-folks' warder,230E'en he whom the holm-cliffs should ever be holding,Men bear o'er the gangway the bright shields a-shining,Folk-host gear all ready. Then mind-longing wore him,And stirr'd up his mood to wot who were the men-folk.So shoreward down far'd he his fair steed a-riding,Hrothgar's Thane, and full strongly then set he a-quakingThe stark wood in his hands, and in council-speech speer'd he:What men be ye then of them that have war-gear,With byrnies bewarded, who the keel high up-buildedOver the Lake-street thus have come leading.240Hither o'er holm-ways hieing in ring-stem?End-sitter was I, a-holding the sea-ward,That the land of the Dane-folk none of the loathlyFaring with ship-horde ever might scathe it.None yet have been seeking more openly hitherOf shield-havers than ye, and ye of the leave-wordOf the framers of war naught at all wotting,Or the manners of kinsmen. But no man of earls greaterSaw I ever on earth than one of you yonder,The warrior in war-gear: no hall-man, so ween I,250Is that weapon-beworthy'd, but his visage belie him,The sight seen once only. Now I must be wottingThe spring of your kindred ere further ye cast ye,And let loose your false spies in the Dane-land a-faringYet further afield. So now, ye far-dwellers,Ye wenders o'er sea-flood, this word do ye hearkenOf my one-folded thought: and haste is the handiestTo do me to wit of whence is your coming.V. HERE BEOWULF MAKES ANSWER TO THE LAND-WARDEN, WHO SHOWETH HIM THE WAY TO THE KING’S ABODE.Hethen that was chiefest in thus wise he answer'd,The war-fellows' leader unlock'd he the word-hoard:260We be a people of the Weder-Geats' man-kinAnd of Hygelac be we the hearth-fellows soothly.My father before me of folks was well-famedVan-leader and atheling, Ecgtheow he hight.Many winters abode he, and on the way wendedAn old man from the garths, and him well remembersEvery wise man well nigh wide yond o'er the earth.Through our lief mood and friendly the lord that is thine,Even Healfdene's son, are we now come a-seeking,Thy warder of folk. Learn us well with thy leading,270For we have to the mighty an errand full mickle,To the lord of the Dane-folk: naught dark shall it be,That ween I full surely. If it be so thou wottest,As soothly for our parts we now have heard say,That one midst of the Scyldings, who of scathers I wot not,A deed-hater secret, in the dark of the night-tideSetteth forth through the terror the malice untold of,The shame-wrong and slaughter. I therefore to HrothgarThrough my mind fashion'd roomsome the rede may now learn him,How he, old-wise and good, may get the fiend under,280If once more from him awayward may turnThe business of bales, and the boot come again,And the weltering of care wax cooler once more;Or for ever sithence time of stress he shall thole,The need and the wronging, the while yet there abidethOn the high stead aloft the best of all houses.Then spake out the warden on steed there a-sitting,The servant all un-fear'd: It shall be of eitherThat the shield-warrior sharp the sundering wotteth,Of words and of works, if he think thereof well.290I hear it thus said that this host here is friendlyTo the lord of the Scyldings; forth fare ye then, bearingYour weed and your weapons, of the way will I wise you;Likewise mine own kinsmen I will now be biddingAgainst every foeman your floater before us,Your craft but new-tarred, the keel on the sand,With honour to hold, until back shall be bearingOver the lake-streams this one, the lief man,The wood of the wounden-neck back unto Wedermark.Unto such shall be granted amongst the good-doers300To win the way out all whole from the war-race.Thenbounthey to faring, the bark biding quiet;Hung upon hawser the wide-fathom'd shipFast at her anchor. Forth shone the boar-shapesOver the check-guards golden adorned,Fair-shifting, fire-hard; ward held the farrow.Snorted the war-moody, hasten'd the warriorsAnd trod down together until the hall timbered,Stately and gold-bestain'd, gat they to look on,That was the all-mightiest unto earth's dwellers310Of halls 'neath the heavens, wherein bode the mighty;Glisten'd the gleam thereof o'er lands a many.Unto them then the war-deer the court of the proud oneFull clearly betaught it, that they therewithalMight wend their ways thither. Then he of the warriorsRound wended his steed, and spake a word backward:Time now for my faring; but the Father All-wielderMay He with all helping henceforward so hold youAll whole in your wayfaring. Will I to sea-sideAgainst the wroth folk to hold warding ever.VI. BEOWULF AND THE GEATS COME INTO HART.320Stone-diversethe street was, straight uplong the path ledThe warriors together. There shone the war-byrnyThe hard and the hand-lock'd; the ring-iron sheerSang over their war-gear, when they to the hall firstIn their gear the all-fearful had gat them to ganging.So then the sea-weary their wide shields set down,Their war-rounds the mighty, against the hall's wall.Then bow'd they to bench, and rang there the byrnies,The war-weed of warriors, and up-stood the spears,The war-gear of the sea-folk all gather'd together.330The ash-holt grey-headed; that host of the ironWith weapons was worshipful. There then a proud chiefOf those lads of the battle speer'd after their line:Whence ferry ye then the shields golden-faced,The grey sarks therewith, and the helms all bevisor'd,And a heap of the war-shafts? Now am I of HrothgarThe man and the messenger: ne'er saw I of aliensSo many of men more might-like of mood.I ween that for pride-sake, no wise for wrack-wendingBut for high might of mind, ye to Hrothgar have sought.340Unto him then the heart-hardy answer'd and spake,The proud earl of the Weders the word gave aback,The hardy neath helm: Now of Hygelac are weThe board-fellows; Beowulf e'en is my name,And word will I say unto Healfdene's son,To the mighty, the folk-lord, what errand is mine,Yea unto thy lord, if to us he will grant itThat him, who so good is, anon we may greet.Spake Wulfgar the word, a lord of the Wendels,And the mood of his heart of a many was kenned,350His war and his wisdom: I therefore the Danes' friendWill lightly be asking, of the lord of the Scyldings,The dealer of rings, since the boon thou art bidding,The mighty folk-lord, concerning thine errand,And swiftly the answer shall do thee to witWhich the good one to give thee aback may deem meetest.Then turn'd he in haste to where Hrothgar was sittingRight old and all hoary mid the host of his earl-folk:Went the valour-stark; stood he the shoulders beforeOf the Dane-lord: well could he the doughty ones' custom.360So Wulfgar spake forth to his lord the well-friendly:Hither are ferry'd now, come from afar offO'er the field of the ocean, a folk of the Geats;These men of the battle e'en Beowulf name theyTheir elder and chiefest, and to thee are they biddingThat they, O dear lord, with thee may be dealingIn word against word. Now win them no naysayOf thy speech again-given, O Hrothgar the glad-man:For they in their war-gear, methinketh, be worthyOf good deeming of earls; and forsooth naught but doughty370Is he who hath led o'er the warriors hither.VII. BEOWULF SPEAKETH WITH HROTHGAR, AND TELLETH HOW HE WILL MEET GRENDEL.Wordthen gave out Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:I knew him in sooth when he was but a youngling,And his father, the old man, was Ecgtheow hight;Unto whom at his home gave Hrethel the Geat-lordHis one only daughter; and now hath his offspringAll hardy come hither a lief lord to seek him.For that word they spake then, the sea-faring men,E'en they who the gift-seat for the Geat-folk had ferry'd,Brought thither for thanks, that of thirty of menfolk380The craft of might hath he within his own handgrip,That war-strong of men. Now him holy GodFor kind help hath sent off here even to us,We men of the West Danes, as now I have weening,'Gainst the terror of Grendel. So I to that good oneFor his mighty mood-daring shall the dear treasure bid.Haste now and be speedy, and bid them in straightway,The kindred-band gather'd together, to see us,And in words say thou eke that they be well comenTo the folk of the Danes. To the door of the hall then390Went Wulfgar, and words withinward he flitted:He bade me to say you, my lord of fair battle,The elder of East-Danes, that he your blood knoweth,And that unto him are ye the sea-surges over,Ye lads hardy-hearted, well come to land hither;And now may ye wend you all in war-raimentUnder the battle-mask Hrothgar to see.But here let your battle-boards yet be abiding,With your war-weed and slaughter-shafts, issue of words.Then rose up the rich one, much warriors around him,400Chosen heap of the thanes, but there some abidedThe war-gear to hold, as the wight one was bidding.Swift went they together, as the warrior there led them,Under Hart's roof: went the stout-hearted,The hardy neath helm, till he stood by the high-seat.Then Beowulf spake out, on him shone the byrny,His war-net besown by the wiles of the smith:Hail to thee, Hrothgar! I am of HygelacKinsman and folk-thane; fair deeds have I manyBegun in my youth-tide, and this matter of Grendel410On the turf of mine own land undarkly I knew.'Tis the seafarers' say that standeth this hall,The best house forsooth, for each one of warriorsAll idle and useless, after the even-lightUnder the heaven-loft hidden becometh.Then lightly they learn'd me, my people, this lore,E'en the best that there be of the wise of the churls,O Hrothgar the kingly, that thee should I seek to,Whereas of the might of my craft were they cunning;For they saw me when came I from out of my wargear,420Blood-stain'd from the foe whenas five had I bounden,Quell'd the kin of the eotens, and in the wave slainThe nicors by night-tide: strait need then I bore,Wreak'd the grief of the Weders, the woe they had gotten;I ground down the wrathful; and now against GrendelI here with the dread one alone shall be dooming,In Thing with the giant. I now then with thee,O lord of the bright Danes, will fall to my bidding,O berg of Scyldings, and bid thee one boon,Which, O refuge of warriors, gainsay me not now,430Since, O free friend of folks, from afar have I come,That I alone, I and my band of the earls,This hard heap of men, may cleanse Hart of ill.This eke have I heard say, that he, the fell monster,In his wan-heed recks nothing of weapons of war;Forgo I this therefore (if so be that HygelacWill still be my man-lord, and he blithe of mood)To bear the sword with me, or bear the broad shield,Yellow-round to the battle; but with naught save the hand-gripWith the foe shall I grapple, and grope for the life440The loathly with loathly. There he shall believeIn the doom of the Lord whom death then shall take.Now ween I that he, if he may wield matters,E'en there in the war-hall the folk of the GeatsShall eat up unafear'd, as oft he hath done itWith the might of the Hrethmen: no need for thee thereforeMy head to be hiding; for me will he haveWith gore all bestain'd, if the death of men get me;He will bear off my bloody corpse minded to taste it;Unmournfully then will the Lone-goer eat it,450Will blood-mark the moor-ways; for the meat of my bodyNaught needest thou henceforth in any wise grieve thee.But send thou to Hygelac, if the war have me,The best of all war-shrouds that now my breast wardeth,The goodliest of railings, the good gift of Hrethel,The hand-work of Weland. Weird wends as she willeth.VIII. HROTHGAR ANSWERETH BEOWULF AND BIDDETH HIM SIT TO THE FEAST.Spakeout then Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:Thou Beowulf, friend mine, for battle that wardethAnd for help that is kindly hast sought to us hither.Fought down thy father the most of all feuds;460To Heatholaf was he forsooth for a hand-baneAmidst of the Wylfings. The folk of the WedersHim for the war-dread that while might not hold.So thence did he seek to the folk of the South-DanesO'er the waves' wallow, to the Scyldings be-worshipped.Then first was I wielding the weal of the Dane-folk,That time was I holding in youth-tide the gem-richHoard-burg of the heroes. Dead then was Heorogar,Mine elder of brethren; unliving was he,The Healfdene's bairn that was better than I.470That feud then thereafter with fee did I settle;I sent to the Wylfing folk over the waters' backTreasures of old time; he swore the oaths to me.Sorrow is in my mind that needs must I say itTo any of grooms, of Grendel what hath heOf shaming in Hart, and he with his hate-wilesOf sudden harms framed; the host of my hall-floor,The war-heap, is waned; Weird swept them awayInto horror of Grendel. It is God now that may lightlyThe scather the doltish from deeds thrust aside.480Full oft have they boasted with beer well bedrunken,My men of the battle all over the ale-stoup,That they in the beer-hall would yet be abidingThe onset of Grendel with the terror of edges.But then was this mead-hall in the tide of the morning,This warrior-hall, gore-stain'd when day at last gleamed,All the boards of the benches with blood besteam'd over,The hall laid with sword-gore: of lieges less had IOf dear and of doughty, for them death had gotten.Now sit thou to feast and unbind thy mood freely,490Thy war-fame unto men as the mind of thee whetteth.Then was for the Geat-folk and them all togetherThere in the beer-hall a bench bedight roomsome,There the stout-hearted hied them to sittingProud in their might: a thane minded the service,Who in hand upbare an ale-stoup adorned,Skinked the sheer mead; whiles sang the shaperClear out in Hart-hall; joy was of warriors,Men doughty no little of Danes and of Weders.IX. UNFERTH CONTENDETH IN WORDS WITH BEOWULF.Spakeout then Unferth that bairn was of Ecglaf,500And he sat at the feet of the lord of the Scyldings,He unbound the battle-rune; was Beowulf's faring,Of him the proud mere-farer, mickle unliking,Whereas he begrudg'd it of any man otherThat he glories more mighty the middle-garth overShould hold under heaven than he himself held:Art thou that Beowulf who won strife with BrecaOn the wide sea contending in swimming,When ye two for pride's sake search'd out the floodsAnd for a dolt's cry into deep water510Thrust both your life-days? No man the twain of you,Lief or loth were he, might lay wyte to stay youYour sorrowful journey, when on the sea row'd ye;Then when the ocean-stream ye with your arms deck'd,Meted the mere-streets, there your hands brandish'd!O'er the Spearman ye glided; the sea with waves welter'd,The surge of the winter. Ye twain in the waves' mightFor a seven nights swink'd. He outdid thee in swimming,And the more was his might; but him in the morn-tideTo the Heatho-Remes' land the holm bore ashore.520And thence away sought he to his dear land and lovely,The lief to his people sought the land of the Brondings,The fair burg peace-warding, where he the folk owned,The burg and the gold rings. What to theeward he boasted,Beanstan's son, for thee soothly he brought it about.Now ween I for thee things worser than erewhile,Though thou in the war-race wert everywhere doughty,In the grim war, if thou herein Grendel darestNight-long for a while of time nigh to abide.Then Beowulf spake out, the Ecgtheow's bairn:530What! thou no few of things, O Unferth my friend,And thou drunken with beer, about Breca hast spoken,Saidest out of his journey; so the sooth now I tell:To wit, that the more might ever I owned,Hard wearing on wave more than any man else.We twain then, we quoth it, while yet we were younglings,And we boasted between us, the twain of us being yetIn our youth-days, that we out onto the SpearmanOur lives would adventure; and e'en so we wrought It.We had a sword naked, when on the sound row'd we,540Hard in hand, as we twain against the whale-fishesHad mind to be warding us. No whit from meIn the waves of the sea-flood afar might he floatThe hastier in holm, nor would I from him hie me.Then we two together, we were in the seaFor a five nights, till us twain the flood drave asunder,The weltering of waves. Then the coldest of weathersIn the dusking of night and the wind from the northwardBattle-grim turn'd against us, rough grown were the billows.Of the mere-fishes then was the mood all up-stirred;550There me 'gainst the loathly the body-sark mine,The hard and the hand-lock'd, was framing me help,My battle-rail braided, it lay on my breastGear'd graithly with gold. But me to the ground tugg'dA foe and fiend-scather; fast he had me In holdThat grim one in grip: yet to me was it given.That the wretch there, the monster, with point might I reach,With my bill of the battle, and the war-race off boreThe mighty mere-beast through the hand that was mine.X. BEOWULF MAKES AN END OF HIS TALE OF THE SWIMMING. WEALHTHEOW, HROTHGAR’S QUEEN, GREETS HIM; AND HROTHGAR DELIVERS TO HIM THE WARDING OF THE HALL.Thusoft and oft over the doers of evil560They threatened me hard; thane-service I did themWith the dear sword of mine, as forsooth it was meet,That nowise of their fill did they win them the joyThe evil fordoers in swallowing me down,Sitting round at the feast nigh the ground of the sea.Yea rather, a morning-tide, mangled by sword-edgeAlong the waves' leaving up there did they lieLull'd asleep with the sword, so that never sithenceAbout the deep floods for the farers o'er oceanThe way have they letted. Came the light from the eastward,570The bright beacon of God, and grew the seas calm,So that the sea-nesses now might I look on,The windy walls. Thuswise Weird oft will be savingThe earl that is unfey, when his valour availeth.Whatever, it happ'd me that I with the sword slewNicors nine. Never heard I of fighting a night-tide'Neath the vault of the heavens was harder than that,Nor yet on the sea-streams of woefuller wight.Whatever, forth won I with life from the foes' clutchAll of wayfaring weary. But me the sea upbore,580The flood downlong the tide with the weltering of waters,All onto the Finnland. No whit of thee everMid such strife of the battle-gear have I heard say,Such terrors of bills. Nor never yet BrecaIn the play of the battle, nor both you, nor either,So dearly the deeds have framed forsoothWith the bright flashing swords; though of this naught I boast me.But thou of thy brethren the banesman becamest,Yea thine head-kin forsooth, for which in hell shalt thouDree weird of damnation, though doughty thy wit be;590For unto thee say I forsooth, son of Ecglaf,That so many deeds never Grendel had done,That monster the loathly, against thine own lord,The shaming in Hart-hall, if suchwise thy mind were,And thy soul e'en as battle-fierce, such as thou sayest.But he, he hath fram'd it that the feud he may heed not,The fearful edge-onset that is of thy folk,Nor sore need be fearful of the Victory-Scyldings.The need-pledges taketh he, no man he sparethOf the folk of the Danes, driveth war as he lusteth,600Slayeth and feasteth unweening of strifeWith them of the Spear-Danes. But I, I shall show it,The Geats' wightness and might ere the time weareth old,Shall bide him in war-tide. Then let him go who may goHigh-hearted to mead, sithence when the morn-lightO'er the children of men of the second day hence,The sun clad in heaven's air, shines from the southward.Then merry of heart was the meter of treasures,The hoary-man'd war-renown'd, help now he trow'd in;The lord of the Bright-Danes on Beowulf hearken'd,610The folk-shepherd knew him, his fast-ready mind.There was laughter of heroes, and high the din rangAnd winsome the words were. Went Wealhtheow forth,The Queen she of Hrothgar, of courtesies mindful,The gold-array'd greeted the grooms in the hall,The free and frank woman the beaker there wended,And first to the East-Dane-folk's fatherland's warder,And bade him be blithe at the drinking of beer,To his people beloved, and lustily took heThe feast and the hall-cup, that victory-fam'd King.620Then round about went she, the Dame of the Helmings,And to doughty and youngsome, each deal of the folk there,Gave cups of the treasure, till now it betidThat to Beowulf duly the Queen the ring-dighted,Of mind high uplifted, the mead-beaker bare.Then she greeted the Geat-lord, and gave God the thank,She, the wisefast In words, that the will had wax'd in herIn one man of the earls to have trusting and trothFor comfort from crimes. But the cup then he took,The slaughter-fierce warrior, from Wealhtheow the Queen.630And then rim'd he the word, making ready for war,And Beowulf spake forth, the Ecgtheow's bairn:E'en that in mind had I when up on holm strode I,And in sea-boat sat down with a band of my men,That for once and for all the will of your peopleWould I set me to work, or on slaughter-field cringeFast in grip of the fiend; yea and now shall I frameThe valour of earl-folk, or else be abidingThe day of mine end, here down in the mead-hall.To the wife those his words well liking they were,640The big word of the Geat; and the gold-adorn'd wended,The frank and free Queen to sit by her lord.And thereafter within the high hall was as erstThe proud word outspoken and bliss on the people,Was the sound of the victory-folk, till on a suddenThe Healfdene's son would now be a-seekingHis rest of the even: wotted he for the EvilWithin the high hall was the Hild-play bedight,Sithence that the sun-light no more should they see,When night should be darkening, and down over all650The shapes of the shadow-helms should be a-stridingWan under the welkin. Uprose then all war-folk;Then greeted the glad-minded one man the other,Hrothgar to Beowulf, bidding him hail,And the wine-hall to wield, and withal quoth the word:Never to any man erst have I given,Since the hand and the shield's round aloft might I heave,This high hall of the Dane-folk, save now unto thee.Have now and hold the best of all houses,Mind thee of fame, show the might of thy valour!660Wake the wroth one: no lack shall there be to thy willingIf that wight work thou win and life therewithal.XI. NOW IS BEOWULF LEFT IN THE HALL ALONE WITH HIS MEN.Thenwended him Hrothgar with the band of his warriors,The high-ward of the Scyldings from out of the hall,For then would the war-lord go seek unto WealhtheowThe Queen for a bed-mate. The glory of king-folkAgainst Grendel had set, as men have heard say,A hall-ward who held him a service apartIn the house of the Dane-lord, for eoten-ward held he.Forsooth he, the Geat-lord, full gladly he trowed670In the might of his mood and the grace of the Maker.Therewith he did off him his byrny of ironAnd the helm from his head, and his dighted sword gave,The best of all irons, to the thane that abode him,And bade him to hold that harness of battle.Bespake then the good one, a big word he gave out,Beowulf the Geat, ere on the bed strode he:Nowise in war I deem me more lowlyIn the works of the battle than Grendel, I ween;So not with the sword shall I lull him to slumber,680Or take his life thuswise, though to me were it easy;Of that good wise he wots not, to get the stroke on me,To hew on my shield, for as stark as he shall beIn the works of the foeman. So we twain a night-tideShall forgo the sword, if he dare yet to seekThe war without weapons. Sithence the wise God,The Lord that is holy, on which hand soeverThe glory may doom as due to him seemeth.Bowed down then the war-deer, the cheek-bolster tookThe face of the earl; and about him a many690Of sea-warriors bold to their hall-slumber bow'd them;No one of them thought that thence away should heSeek ever again to his home the beloved,His folk or his free burg, where erst he was fed;For of men had they learn'd that o'er mickle a manyIn that wine-hall aforetime the fell death had gottenOf the folk of the Danes; but the Lord to them gave it,To the folk of the Weders, the web of war-speeding,Help fair and good comfort, e'en so that their foemanThrough the craft of one man all they overcame,700By the self-might of one. So is manifest truthThat God the Almighty the kindred of men

What!we of the Spear-Danes of yore days, so was it

That we learn'd of the fair fame of kings of the folks

And the athelings a-faring in framing of valour.

Oft then Scyld the Sheaf-son from the hosts of the scathers,

From kindreds a many the mead-settles tore;

It was then the earl fear'd them, sithence was he first

Found bare and all-lacking; so solace he bided,

Wax'd under the welkin in worship to thrive,

Until it was so that the round-about sitters

All over the whale-road must hearken his will

And yield him the tribute. A good king was that,

By whom then thereafter a son was begotten,

A youngling in garth, whom the great God sent thither

To foster the folk; and their crime-need he felt

The load that lay on them while lordless they lived

For a long while and long. He therefore, the Life-lord,

The Wielder of glory, world's worship he gave him:

Brim Beowulf waxed, and wide the weal upsprang

Of the offspring of Scyld in the parts of the Scede-lands.

Such wise shall a youngling with wealth be a-working

With goodly fee-gifts toward the friends of his father,

That after in eld-days shall ever bide with him,

Fair fellows well-willing when wendeth the war-tide,

Their lief lord a-serving. By praise-deeds it shall be

That in each and all kindreds a man shall have thriving.

Then went his ways Scyld when the shapen while was,

All hardy to wend him to the lord and his warding:

Out then did they bear him to the side of the sea-flood,

The dear fellows of him, as he himself pray'd them

While yet his word wielded the friend of the Scyldings,

The dear lord of the land; a long while had he own'd it.

With stem all be-ringed at the hythe stood the ship,

All icy and out-fain, the Atheling's ferry.

There then did they lay him, the lord well beloved,

The gold-rings' bestower, within the ship's barm,

The mighty by mast. Much there was the treasure,

From far ways forsooth had the fret-work been led:

Never heard I of keel that was comelier dighted

With weapons of war, and with weed of the battle,

With bills and with byrnies. There lay in his barm

Much wealth of the treasure that with him should be,

And he into the flood's might afar to depart.

No lesser a whit were the wealth-goods they dight him

Of the goods of the folk, than did they who aforetime,

When was the beginning, first sent him away

Alone o'er the billows, and he but a youngling.

Moreover they set him up there a sign golden

High up overhead, and let the holm bear him,

Gave all to the Spearman. Sad mind they had in them,

And mourning their mood was. Now never knew men,

For sooth how to say it, rede-masters in hall,

Or heroes 'neath heaven, to whose hands came the lading.

Inthe burgs then was biding Beowulf the Scylding,

Dear King of the people, for long was he dwelling

Far-famed of folks (his father turn'd elsewhere,

From his stead the Chief wended) till awoke to him after

Healfdene the high, and long while he held it,

Ancient and war-eager, o'er the glad Scyldings:

Of his body four bairns are forth to him rimed;

Into the world woke the leader of war-hosts

Heorogar; eke Hrothgar, and Halga the good;

Heard I that Elan queen was she of Ongentheow,

That Scylding of battle, the bed-matebehalsed.

Then was unto Hrothgar the war-speed given,

Such worship of war that his kin and well-willers

Well hearken'd his will till the younglings were waxen,

A kin-host a many. Then into his mind ran

That he would be building for him now a hall-house,

That men should be making a mead-hall more mighty

Than the children of ages had ever heard tell of:

And there within eke should he be out-dealing

To young and to old all things God had given,

Save the share of the folk and the life-days of men.

Then heard I that widely the work wasa-banning

To kindreds a many the Middle-garth over

To fret o'er that folk-stead. So befell to him timely

Right soon among men that made was it yarely

The most of hall-houses, and Hart its name shap'd he,

Who wielded his word full widely around.

His behest he belied not; it was he dealt the rings,

The wealth at the high-tide. Then up rose the hall-house,

High up and horn-gabled. Hot surges it bided

Of fire-flame the loathly, nor long was it thenceforth

Ere sorely the edge-hate 'twixt Son and Wife's Father

After the slaughter-strife there should awaken.

Then the ghost heavy-strong bore with it hardly

E'en for a while of time, bider in darkness,

That there on each day of days heard he the mirth-tide

Loud in the hall-house. There was the harp's voice,

And clear song of shaper. Said he who could it

To tell the first fashion of men from aforetime;

Quoth how the Almighty One made the Earth's fashion,

The fair field and bright midst the bow of the Waters,

And with victory beglory'd set Sun and Moon,

Bright beams to enlighten the biders on land:

And how he adorned all parts of the earth

With limbs and with leaves; and life withal shaped

For the kindred of each thing that quick on earth wendeth.

So liv'd on all happy the host of the kinsmen

In game and in glee, until one wight began,

A fiend out of hell-pit, the framing of evil,

And Grendel forsooth the grim guest was hight,

The mighty mark-strider, the holder of moorland,

The fen and the fastness. The stead of the fifel

That wight all unhappy a while of time warded,

Sithence that the Shaper him had for-written.

On the kindred of Cain the Lord living ever

Awreaked the murder of the slaying of Abel.

In that feud he rejoic'd not, but afar him He banish'd,

The Maker, from mankind for the crime he had wrought.

But offspring uncouth thence were they awoken

Eotens and elf-wights, and ogres of ocean,

And therewith the Giants, who won war against God

A long while; but He gave them their wages therefor.

Nowwent he a-spying, when come was the night-tide,

The house on high builded, and how there the Ring-Danes

Their beer-drinking over had boune them to bed;

And therein he found them, the atheling fellows,

Asleep after feasting. Then sorrow they knew not

Nor the woe of mankind: but the wight of wealth's waning,

The grim and the greedy, soon yare was he gotten,

All furious and fierce, and he raught up from resting

A thirty of thanes, and thence aback got him

Right fain of his gettings, and homeward to fare,

Fulfilled of slaughter his stead to go look on.

Thereafter at dawning, when day was yet early,

The war-craft of Grendel to men grew unhidden,

And after his meal was the weeping uphoven,

Mickle voice of the morning-tide: there the Prince mighty,

The Atheling exceeding good, unblithe he sat,

Tholing the heavy woe; thane-sorrow dreed he

Since the slot of the loathly wight there they had look'd on,

The ghost all accursed. O'er grisly the strife was,

So loathly and longsome. No longer the frist was

But after the wearing of one night; then fram'd he

Murder-bales more yet, and nowise he mourned

The feud and the crime; over fast therein was he.

Then easy to find was the man who would elsewhere

Seek out for himself a rest was more roomsome,

Beds140end-long the bowers, when beacon'd to him was,

And soothly out told by manifest token,

The hate of the hell-thane. He held himself sithence

Further and faster who from the fiend gat him.

In such wise he rul'd it and wrought against right,

But one against all, until idle was standing

The best of hall-houses; and mickle the while was,

Twelve winter-tides' wearing; and trouble he tholed,

That friend of the Scyldings, of woes every one

And wide-spreading sorrows: for sithence it fell

That unto men's children unbidden 'twas known

Full sadly in singing, that Grendel won war

'Gainst Hrothgar a while of time, hate-envy waging,

And crime-guilts and feud for seasons no few,

And strife without stinting. For the sake of no kindness

Unto any of men of the main-host of Dane-folk

Would he thrust off the life-bale, or by fee-gild allay it,

Nor was there a wise man that needed to ween

The brightbootto have at the hand of the slayer.

The monster the fell one afflicted them sorely,

That death-shadow darksome the doughty and youthful

Enfettered, ensnared; night by night was he faring

The moorlands the misty. But never know men

Of spell-workers of Hell to and fro where they wander.

So crime-guilts a many the foeman of mankind,

The fell alone-farer, fram'd oft and full often,

Cruel hard shames and wrongful, and Hart he abode in,

The treasure-stain'd hall, in the dark of the night-tide;

But never the gift-stool therein might he greet,

The treasure before the Creator he trow'd not.

Mickle wrack was it soothly for the friend of the Scyldings,

Yea heart and mood breaking. Now sat there a many

Of the mighty in rune, and won them the rede

Of what thing for the strong-soul'd were best of all things

Which yet they might frame 'gainst the fear and the horror.

And whiles they behight them at the shrines of the heathen

To worship the idols; and pray'd they in words,

That he, the ghost-slayer, would frame for them helping

'Gainst the folk-threats and evil So far'd they their wont,

The hope of the heathen; nor hell they remember'd

In180mood and in mind. And the Maker they knew not,

The Doomer of deeds: nor of God the Lord wist they,

Nor the Helm of the Heavens knew aught how to hery,

The Wielder of Glory. Woe worth unto that man

Who through hatred the baneful his soul shall shove into

The fire's embrace; nought of fostering weens he,

Nor of changing one whit. But well is he soothly

That after the death-day shall seek to the Lord,

In the breast of the Father all peace ever craving.

Socare that was time-long the kinsman of Healfdene

190Still seeth'd without ceasing, nor might the wise warrior

Wend otherwhere woe, for o'er strong was the strife

All loathly so longsome late laid on the people,

Need-wrack and grimnithing, of night-bales the greatest.

Now that from his home heard the Hygelac's thane,

Good midst of the Geat-folk; of Grendel's deeds heard he.

But he was of mankind of might and main mightiest

In the day that we tell of, the day of this life,

All noble, strong-waxen. He bade a wave-wearer

Right good to be gear'd him, and quoth he that the war-king

Over200the swan-road he would be seeking,

The folk-lord far-famed, since lack of men had he.

Forsooth of that faring the carles wiser-fashion'd

Laid little blame on him, though lief to them was he;

The heart-hardy whetted they, heeded the omen.

There had the good one, e'en he of the Geat-folk,

Champions out-chosen of them that he keenest

Might find for his needs; and he then the fifteenth,

Sought to the sound-wood. A swain thereon show'd him,

A sea-crafty man, all the make of the land-marks.

Wore then a while, on the waves was the floater,

The boat under the berg, and yare then the warriors

Strode up on the stem; the streams were a-winding

The sea 'gainst the sands. Upbore the swains then

Up into the bark's barm the bright-fretted weapons,

The war-array stately; then out the lads shov'd her,

The folk on the welcome way shov'd out the wood-bound.

Then by the wind driven out o'er the wave-holm

Far'd the foamy-neck'd floater most like to a fowl,

Till when was the same tide of the second day's wearing

The wound-about-stemm'd one had waded her way,

So that then they that sail'd her had sight of the land,

Bleak shine of the sea-cliffs, bergs steep up above,

Sea-nesses wide reaching; the sound was won over,

The sea-way was ended: then up ashore swiftly

The band of the Weder-folk up on earth wended;

They bound up the sea-wood, their sarks on them rattled,

Their weed of the battle, and God there they thanked

For that easy the wave-ways were waxen unto them.

But now from the wall saw the Scylding-folks' warder,

E'en he whom the holm-cliffs should ever be holding,

Men bear o'er the gangway the bright shields a-shining,

Folk-host gear all ready. Then mind-longing wore him,

And stirr'd up his mood to wot who were the men-folk.

So shoreward down far'd he his fair steed a-riding,

Hrothgar's Thane, and full strongly then set he a-quaking

The stark wood in his hands, and in council-speech speer'd he:

What men be ye then of them that have war-gear,

With byrnies bewarded, who the keel high up-builded

Over the Lake-street thus have come leading.

Hither o'er holm-ways hieing in ring-stem?

End-sitter was I, a-holding the sea-ward,

That the land of the Dane-folk none of the loathly

Faring with ship-horde ever might scathe it.

None yet have been seeking more openly hither

Of shield-havers than ye, and ye of the leave-word

Of the framers of war naught at all wotting,

Or the manners of kinsmen. But no man of earls greater

Saw I ever on earth than one of you yonder,

The warrior in war-gear: no hall-man, so ween I,

Is that weapon-beworthy'd, but his visage belie him,

The sight seen once only. Now I must be wotting

The spring of your kindred ere further ye cast ye,

And let loose your false spies in the Dane-land a-faring

Yet further afield. So now, ye far-dwellers,

Ye wenders o'er sea-flood, this word do ye hearken

Of my one-folded thought: and haste is the handiest

To do me to wit of whence is your coming.

Hethen that was chiefest in thus wise he answer'd,

The war-fellows' leader unlock'd he the word-hoard:

We be a people of the Weder-Geats' man-kin

And of Hygelac be we the hearth-fellows soothly.

My father before me of folks was well-famed

Van-leader and atheling, Ecgtheow he hight.

Many winters abode he, and on the way wended

An old man from the garths, and him well remembers

Every wise man well nigh wide yond o'er the earth.

Through our lief mood and friendly the lord that is thine,

Even Healfdene's son, are we now come a-seeking,

Thy warder of folk. Learn us well with thy leading,

For we have to the mighty an errand full mickle,

To the lord of the Dane-folk: naught dark shall it be,

That ween I full surely. If it be so thou wottest,

As soothly for our parts we now have heard say,

That one midst of the Scyldings, who of scathers I wot not,

A deed-hater secret, in the dark of the night-tide

Setteth forth through the terror the malice untold of,

The shame-wrong and slaughter. I therefore to Hrothgar

Through my mind fashion'd roomsome the rede may now learn him,

How he, old-wise and good, may get the fiend under,

If once more from him awayward may turn

The business of bales, and the boot come again,

And the weltering of care wax cooler once more;

Or for ever sithence time of stress he shall thole,

The need and the wronging, the while yet there abideth

On the high stead aloft the best of all houses.

Then spake out the warden on steed there a-sitting,

The servant all un-fear'd: It shall be of either

That the shield-warrior sharp the sundering wotteth,

Of words and of works, if he think thereof well.

I hear it thus said that this host here is friendly

To the lord of the Scyldings; forth fare ye then, bearing

Your weed and your weapons, of the way will I wise you;

Likewise mine own kinsmen I will now be bidding

Against every foeman your floater before us,

Your craft but new-tarred, the keel on the sand,

With honour to hold, until back shall be bearing

Over the lake-streams this one, the lief man,

The wood of the wounden-neck back unto Wedermark.

Unto such shall be granted amongst the good-doers

To win the way out all whole from the war-race.

Thenbounthey to faring, the bark biding quiet;

Hung upon hawser the wide-fathom'd ship

Fast at her anchor. Forth shone the boar-shapes

Over the check-guards golden adorned,

Fair-shifting, fire-hard; ward held the farrow.

Snorted the war-moody, hasten'd the warriors

And trod down together until the hall timbered,

Stately and gold-bestain'd, gat they to look on,

That was the all-mightiest unto earth's dwellers

Of halls 'neath the heavens, wherein bode the mighty;

Glisten'd the gleam thereof o'er lands a many.

Unto them then the war-deer the court of the proud one

Full clearly betaught it, that they therewithal

Might wend their ways thither. Then he of the warriors

Round wended his steed, and spake a word backward:

Time now for my faring; but the Father All-wielder

May He with all helping henceforward so hold you

All whole in your wayfaring. Will I to sea-side

Against the wroth folk to hold warding ever.

Stone-diversethe street was, straight uplong the path led

The warriors together. There shone the war-byrny

The hard and the hand-lock'd; the ring-iron sheer

Sang over their war-gear, when they to the hall first

In their gear the all-fearful had gat them to ganging.

So then the sea-weary their wide shields set down,

Their war-rounds the mighty, against the hall's wall.

Then bow'd they to bench, and rang there the byrnies,

The war-weed of warriors, and up-stood the spears,

The war-gear of the sea-folk all gather'd together.

The ash-holt grey-headed; that host of the iron

With weapons was worshipful. There then a proud chief

Of those lads of the battle speer'd after their line:

Whence ferry ye then the shields golden-faced,

The grey sarks therewith, and the helms all bevisor'd,

And a heap of the war-shafts? Now am I of Hrothgar

The man and the messenger: ne'er saw I of aliens

So many of men more might-like of mood.

I ween that for pride-sake, no wise for wrack-wending

But for high might of mind, ye to Hrothgar have sought.

Unto him then the heart-hardy answer'd and spake,

The proud earl of the Weders the word gave aback,

The hardy neath helm: Now of Hygelac are we

The board-fellows; Beowulf e'en is my name,

And word will I say unto Healfdene's son,

To the mighty, the folk-lord, what errand is mine,

Yea unto thy lord, if to us he will grant it

That him, who so good is, anon we may greet.

Spake Wulfgar the word, a lord of the Wendels,

And the mood of his heart of a many was kenned,

His war and his wisdom: I therefore the Danes' friend

Will lightly be asking, of the lord of the Scyldings,

The dealer of rings, since the boon thou art bidding,

The mighty folk-lord, concerning thine errand,

And swiftly the answer shall do thee to wit

Which the good one to give thee aback may deem meetest.

Then turn'd he in haste to where Hrothgar was sitting

Right old and all hoary mid the host of his earl-folk:

Went the valour-stark; stood he the shoulders before

Of the Dane-lord: well could he the doughty ones' custom.

So Wulfgar spake forth to his lord the well-friendly:

Hither are ferry'd now, come from afar off

O'er the field of the ocean, a folk of the Geats;

These men of the battle e'en Beowulf name they

Their elder and chiefest, and to thee are they bidding

That they, O dear lord, with thee may be dealing

In word against word. Now win them no naysay

Of thy speech again-given, O Hrothgar the glad-man:

For they in their war-gear, methinketh, be worthy

Of good deeming of earls; and forsooth naught but doughty

Is he who hath led o'er the warriors hither.

Wordthen gave out Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:

I knew him in sooth when he was but a youngling,

And his father, the old man, was Ecgtheow hight;

Unto whom at his home gave Hrethel the Geat-lord

His one only daughter; and now hath his offspring

All hardy come hither a lief lord to seek him.

For that word they spake then, the sea-faring men,

E'en they who the gift-seat for the Geat-folk had ferry'd,

Brought thither for thanks, that of thirty of menfolk

The craft of might hath he within his own handgrip,

That war-strong of men. Now him holy God

For kind help hath sent off here even to us,

We men of the West Danes, as now I have weening,

'Gainst the terror of Grendel. So I to that good one

For his mighty mood-daring shall the dear treasure bid.

Haste now and be speedy, and bid them in straightway,

The kindred-band gather'd together, to see us,

And in words say thou eke that they be well comen

To the folk of the Danes. To the door of the hall then

Went Wulfgar, and words withinward he flitted:

He bade me to say you, my lord of fair battle,

The elder of East-Danes, that he your blood knoweth,

And that unto him are ye the sea-surges over,

Ye lads hardy-hearted, well come to land hither;

And now may ye wend you all in war-raiment

Under the battle-mask Hrothgar to see.

But here let your battle-boards yet be abiding,

With your war-weed and slaughter-shafts, issue of words.

Then rose up the rich one, much warriors around him,

Chosen heap of the thanes, but there some abided

The war-gear to hold, as the wight one was bidding.

Swift went they together, as the warrior there led them,

Under Hart's roof: went the stout-hearted,

The hardy neath helm, till he stood by the high-seat.

Then Beowulf spake out, on him shone the byrny,

His war-net besown by the wiles of the smith:

Hail to thee, Hrothgar! I am of Hygelac

Kinsman and folk-thane; fair deeds have I many

Begun in my youth-tide, and this matter of Grendel

On the turf of mine own land undarkly I knew.

'Tis the seafarers' say that standeth this hall,

The best house forsooth, for each one of warriors

All idle and useless, after the even-light

Under the heaven-loft hidden becometh.

Then lightly they learn'd me, my people, this lore,

E'en the best that there be of the wise of the churls,

O Hrothgar the kingly, that thee should I seek to,

Whereas of the might of my craft were they cunning;

For they saw me when came I from out of my wargear,

Blood-stain'd from the foe whenas five had I bounden,

Quell'd the kin of the eotens, and in the wave slain

The nicors by night-tide: strait need then I bore,

Wreak'd the grief of the Weders, the woe they had gotten;

I ground down the wrathful; and now against Grendel

I here with the dread one alone shall be dooming,

In Thing with the giant. I now then with thee,

O lord of the bright Danes, will fall to my bidding,

O berg of Scyldings, and bid thee one boon,

Which, O refuge of warriors, gainsay me not now,

Since, O free friend of folks, from afar have I come,

That I alone, I and my band of the earls,

This hard heap of men, may cleanse Hart of ill.

This eke have I heard say, that he, the fell monster,

In his wan-heed recks nothing of weapons of war;

Forgo I this therefore (if so be that Hygelac

Will still be my man-lord, and he blithe of mood)

To bear the sword with me, or bear the broad shield,

Yellow-round to the battle; but with naught save the hand-grip

With the foe shall I grapple, and grope for the life

The loathly with loathly. There he shall believe

In the doom of the Lord whom death then shall take.

Now ween I that he, if he may wield matters,

E'en there in the war-hall the folk of the Geats

Shall eat up unafear'd, as oft he hath done it

With the might of the Hrethmen: no need for thee therefore

My head to be hiding; for me will he have

With gore all bestain'd, if the death of men get me;

He will bear off my bloody corpse minded to taste it;

Unmournfully then will the Lone-goer eat it,

Will blood-mark the moor-ways; for the meat of my body

Naught needest thou henceforth in any wise grieve thee.

But send thou to Hygelac, if the war have me,

The best of all war-shrouds that now my breast wardeth,

The goodliest of railings, the good gift of Hrethel,

The hand-work of Weland. Weird wends as she willeth.

Spakeout then Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:

Thou Beowulf, friend mine, for battle that wardeth

And for help that is kindly hast sought to us hither.

Fought down thy father the most of all feuds;

To Heatholaf was he forsooth for a hand-bane

Amidst of the Wylfings. The folk of the Weders

Him for the war-dread that while might not hold.

So thence did he seek to the folk of the South-Danes

O'er the waves' wallow, to the Scyldings be-worshipped.

Then first was I wielding the weal of the Dane-folk,

That time was I holding in youth-tide the gem-rich

Hoard-burg of the heroes. Dead then was Heorogar,

Mine elder of brethren; unliving was he,

The Healfdene's bairn that was better than I.

That feud then thereafter with fee did I settle;

I sent to the Wylfing folk over the waters' back

Treasures of old time; he swore the oaths to me.

Sorrow is in my mind that needs must I say it

To any of grooms, of Grendel what hath he

Of shaming in Hart, and he with his hate-wiles

Of sudden harms framed; the host of my hall-floor,

The war-heap, is waned; Weird swept them away

Into horror of Grendel. It is God now that may lightly

The scather the doltish from deeds thrust aside.

Full oft have they boasted with beer well bedrunken,

My men of the battle all over the ale-stoup,

That they in the beer-hall would yet be abiding

The onset of Grendel with the terror of edges.

But then was this mead-hall in the tide of the morning,

This warrior-hall, gore-stain'd when day at last gleamed,

All the boards of the benches with blood besteam'd over,

The hall laid with sword-gore: of lieges less had I

Of dear and of doughty, for them death had gotten.

Now sit thou to feast and unbind thy mood freely,

Thy war-fame unto men as the mind of thee whetteth.

Then was for the Geat-folk and them all together

There in the beer-hall a bench bedight roomsome,

There the stout-hearted hied them to sitting

Proud in their might: a thane minded the service,

Who in hand upbare an ale-stoup adorned,

Skinked the sheer mead; whiles sang the shaper

Clear out in Hart-hall; joy was of warriors,

Men doughty no little of Danes and of Weders.

Spakeout then Unferth that bairn was of Ecglaf,

500And he sat at the feet of the lord of the Scyldings,

He unbound the battle-rune; was Beowulf's faring,

Of him the proud mere-farer, mickle unliking,

Whereas he begrudg'd it of any man other

That he glories more mighty the middle-garth over

Should hold under heaven than he himself held:

Art thou that Beowulf who won strife with Breca

On the wide sea contending in swimming,

When ye two for pride's sake search'd out the floods

And for a dolt's cry into deep water

Thrust both your life-days? No man the twain of you,

Lief or loth were he, might lay wyte to stay you

Your sorrowful journey, when on the sea row'd ye;

Then when the ocean-stream ye with your arms deck'd,

Meted the mere-streets, there your hands brandish'd!

O'er the Spearman ye glided; the sea with waves welter'd,

The surge of the winter. Ye twain in the waves' might

For a seven nights swink'd. He outdid thee in swimming,

And the more was his might; but him in the morn-tide

To the Heatho-Remes' land the holm bore ashore.

And thence away sought he to his dear land and lovely,

The lief to his people sought the land of the Brondings,

The fair burg peace-warding, where he the folk owned,

The burg and the gold rings. What to theeward he boasted,

Beanstan's son, for thee soothly he brought it about.

Now ween I for thee things worser than erewhile,

Though thou in the war-race wert everywhere doughty,

In the grim war, if thou herein Grendel darest

Night-long for a while of time nigh to abide.

Then Beowulf spake out, the Ecgtheow's bairn:

What! thou no few of things, O Unferth my friend,

And thou drunken with beer, about Breca hast spoken,

Saidest out of his journey; so the sooth now I tell:

To wit, that the more might ever I owned,

Hard wearing on wave more than any man else.

We twain then, we quoth it, while yet we were younglings,

And we boasted between us, the twain of us being yet

In our youth-days, that we out onto the Spearman

Our lives would adventure; and e'en so we wrought It.

We had a sword naked, when on the sound row'd we,

Hard in hand, as we twain against the whale-fishes

Had mind to be warding us. No whit from me

In the waves of the sea-flood afar might he float

The hastier in holm, nor would I from him hie me.

Then we two together, we were in the sea

For a five nights, till us twain the flood drave asunder,

The weltering of waves. Then the coldest of weathers

In the dusking of night and the wind from the northward

Battle-grim turn'd against us, rough grown were the billows.

Of the mere-fishes then was the mood all up-stirred;

There me 'gainst the loathly the body-sark mine,

The hard and the hand-lock'd, was framing me help,

My battle-rail braided, it lay on my breast

Gear'd graithly with gold. But me to the ground tugg'd

A foe and fiend-scather; fast he had me In hold

That grim one in grip: yet to me was it given.

That the wretch there, the monster, with point might I reach,

With my bill of the battle, and the war-race off bore

The mighty mere-beast through the hand that was mine.

Thusoft and oft over the doers of evil

560They threatened me hard; thane-service I did them

With the dear sword of mine, as forsooth it was meet,

That nowise of their fill did they win them the joy

The evil fordoers in swallowing me down,

Sitting round at the feast nigh the ground of the sea.

Yea rather, a morning-tide, mangled by sword-edge

Along the waves' leaving up there did they lie

Lull'd asleep with the sword, so that never sithence

About the deep floods for the farers o'er ocean

The way have they letted. Came the light from the eastward,

The bright beacon of God, and grew the seas calm,

So that the sea-nesses now might I look on,

The windy walls. Thuswise Weird oft will be saving

The earl that is unfey, when his valour availeth.

Whatever, it happ'd me that I with the sword slew

Nicors nine. Never heard I of fighting a night-tide

'Neath the vault of the heavens was harder than that,

Nor yet on the sea-streams of woefuller wight.

Whatever, forth won I with life from the foes' clutch

All of wayfaring weary. But me the sea upbore,

The flood downlong the tide with the weltering of waters,

All onto the Finnland. No whit of thee ever

Mid such strife of the battle-gear have I heard say,

Such terrors of bills. Nor never yet Breca

In the play of the battle, nor both you, nor either,

So dearly the deeds have framed forsooth

With the bright flashing swords; though of this naught I boast me.

But thou of thy brethren the banesman becamest,

Yea thine head-kin forsooth, for which in hell shalt thou

Dree weird of damnation, though doughty thy wit be;

For unto thee say I forsooth, son of Ecglaf,

That so many deeds never Grendel had done,

That monster the loathly, against thine own lord,

The shaming in Hart-hall, if suchwise thy mind were,

And thy soul e'en as battle-fierce, such as thou sayest.

But he, he hath fram'd it that the feud he may heed not,

The fearful edge-onset that is of thy folk,

Nor sore need be fearful of the Victory-Scyldings.

The need-pledges taketh he, no man he spareth

Of the folk of the Danes, driveth war as he lusteth,

Slayeth and feasteth unweening of strife

With them of the Spear-Danes. But I, I shall show it,

The Geats' wightness and might ere the time weareth old,

Shall bide him in war-tide. Then let him go who may go

High-hearted to mead, sithence when the morn-light

O'er the children of men of the second day hence,

The sun clad in heaven's air, shines from the southward.

Then merry of heart was the meter of treasures,

The hoary-man'd war-renown'd, help now he trow'd in;

The lord of the Bright-Danes on Beowulf hearken'd,

The folk-shepherd knew him, his fast-ready mind.

There was laughter of heroes, and high the din rang

And winsome the words were. Went Wealhtheow forth,

The Queen she of Hrothgar, of courtesies mindful,

The gold-array'd greeted the grooms in the hall,

The free and frank woman the beaker there wended,

And first to the East-Dane-folk's fatherland's warder,

And bade him be blithe at the drinking of beer,

To his people beloved, and lustily took he

The feast and the hall-cup, that victory-fam'd King.

Then round about went she, the Dame of the Helmings,

And to doughty and youngsome, each deal of the folk there,

Gave cups of the treasure, till now it betid

That to Beowulf duly the Queen the ring-dighted,

Of mind high uplifted, the mead-beaker bare.

Then she greeted the Geat-lord, and gave God the thank,

She, the wisefast In words, that the will had wax'd in her

In one man of the earls to have trusting and troth

For comfort from crimes. But the cup then he took,

The slaughter-fierce warrior, from Wealhtheow the Queen.

And then rim'd he the word, making ready for war,

And Beowulf spake forth, the Ecgtheow's bairn:

E'en that in mind had I when up on holm strode I,

And in sea-boat sat down with a band of my men,

That for once and for all the will of your people

Would I set me to work, or on slaughter-field cringe

Fast in grip of the fiend; yea and now shall I frame

The valour of earl-folk, or else be abiding

The day of mine end, here down in the mead-hall.

To the wife those his words well liking they were,

The big word of the Geat; and the gold-adorn'd wended,

The frank and free Queen to sit by her lord.

And thereafter within the high hall was as erst

The proud word outspoken and bliss on the people,

Was the sound of the victory-folk, till on a sudden

The Healfdene's son would now be a-seeking

His rest of the even: wotted he for the Evil

Within the high hall was the Hild-play bedight,

Sithence that the sun-light no more should they see,

When night should be darkening, and down over all

The shapes of the shadow-helms should be a-striding

Wan under the welkin. Uprose then all war-folk;

Then greeted the glad-minded one man the other,

Hrothgar to Beowulf, bidding him hail,

And the wine-hall to wield, and withal quoth the word:

Never to any man erst have I given,

Since the hand and the shield's round aloft might I heave,

This high hall of the Dane-folk, save now unto thee.

Have now and hold the best of all houses,

Mind thee of fame, show the might of thy valour!

Wake the wroth one: no lack shall there be to thy willing

If that wight work thou win and life therewithal.

Thenwended him Hrothgar with the band of his warriors,

The high-ward of the Scyldings from out of the hall,

For then would the war-lord go seek unto Wealhtheow

The Queen for a bed-mate. The glory of king-folk

Against Grendel had set, as men have heard say,

A hall-ward who held him a service apart

In the house of the Dane-lord, for eoten-ward held he.

Forsooth he, the Geat-lord, full gladly he trowed

In the might of his mood and the grace of the Maker.

Therewith he did off him his byrny of iron

And the helm from his head, and his dighted sword gave,

The best of all irons, to the thane that abode him,

And bade him to hold that harness of battle.

Bespake then the good one, a big word he gave out,

Beowulf the Geat, ere on the bed strode he:

Nowise in war I deem me more lowly

In the works of the battle than Grendel, I ween;

So not with the sword shall I lull him to slumber,

Or take his life thuswise, though to me were it easy;

Of that good wise he wots not, to get the stroke on me,

To hew on my shield, for as stark as he shall be

In the works of the foeman. So we twain a night-tide

Shall forgo the sword, if he dare yet to seek

The war without weapons. Sithence the wise God,

The Lord that is holy, on which hand soever

The glory may doom as due to him seemeth.

Bowed down then the war-deer, the cheek-bolster took

The face of the earl; and about him a many

Of sea-warriors bold to their hall-slumber bow'd them;

No one of them thought that thence away should he

Seek ever again to his home the beloved,

His folk or his free burg, where erst he was fed;

For of men had they learn'd that o'er mickle a many

In that wine-hall aforetime the fell death had gotten

Of the folk of the Danes; but the Lord to them gave it,

To the folk of the Weders, the web of war-speeding,

Help fair and good comfort, e'en so that their foeman

Through the craft of one man all they overcame,

By the self-might of one. So is manifest truth

That God the Almighty the kindred of men


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