T h e dawn-flood jh rew him on a Norw ay beach.
Dear to his folk, he left there to seek slo
His native soil, the land of the Brondings,
T h e pleasant fortress where he ruled his people,
T h e c ity and the ring-riches. Indeed all his boast
T h e son of Beanstan had made good against you.
Therefore I expect, in spite of your ardency
In battle-shocks everywhere, in the bitter war-day,
Y o u r fate will be worse if you dare to keep
Y ou r all-night vigil in G ren del’s path.’
Beowulf spoke, Ecgtheow ’s son:
‘ N o w U n ferth m y friend, you have given us a boxful 530
O f words about Breca, but surely it is the beer in you
W hich has voiced his exploit? T h e truth is this:
It was I who had greater strength in the sea,
Peril in its surges, than any man beside.
It was something the two of us said as boys,
Boasting together— we were then both
Still in our teens— how w e should venture
O ur lives upon the ocean; and this we did.
W e had naked swords, iron to our hands,
W hen we swam out to sea; w e looked to defend ourselves 5+0
Against whale and killer. N o t an inch of distance
Could he swim from me in the choppy waterway,
Sw ifter over the main; never would I leave him.
An d so we two were on the sea together
T h e space of five nights, when a current split us,
A churning of the waters, in the dullest of weathers,
Blackness louring and north wind bending
Hostile against us; the waves were a chaos.
T h e temper of the sea-fish was stirred and irritated;
M y chain-mail then, strong-linked, hand-locked, 55°
Furnished me protection in the face of these enemies,
M y ring-woven war-dress clung to my breast
G old from the forge. A raging attacker
Dragged me to the bottom, savage, had me
Fast in his grasp; yet it was given me
T o reach and to pierce the monstrous thing
'5
W ith the point of m y battle-sword; storm of conflict
Took the strong beast of the sea by this hand.
So time and again malicious tormentors
$6o H eavily harassed me; and them I served
W ith this good sword, in the law of arms.
B y no means did they, agents of hatred,
En jo y that feasting where I should be fed on,
Sat round as a banquet at the bottom of the sea,
B ut when morning came they were washed and grounded,
M auled by the sword, on the sands of the shore,
Sw ord-blade-silenced so that never again
D id they hinder seafarers making their voyage
On the deep acres. L ig h t left the east,
S7° G o d ’s bright beacon, and the floods subsided,
U n til I could gaze on headlands, cliffs
Open to the winds. Fate often saves
T h e undoomed fightingman when his courage stands!
— Be that as it may, m y sword succeeded
Against nine krakens. N ever have I heard of
A harder fight under night and heaven
O r in streaming ocean a more desperate man;
Yet I kept m y life from the haters’ hold
In the weariness of m y going. A n d so the sea
580 D rove me, the flood-tide, the milling waters
T o the land of the Finns. N ever did I hear
T h a t you were in any such mortal encounters,
Such sword-blade-terrors. Breca never yet,
N or you yourself either, in the play of war-weapons
W ith glancing sword fought out an exploit
So boldly (not that I pause to boast of it)—
T h o u gh you did slay your own brothers,
Y o u r own close kinsmen, for which in hell
Y o u shall endure damning, for all your intelligence.
590 I t ’s the truth I tell you, son of Ecglaf,
T h a t Grendel would never have laid such a train
O f terrors for your prince, the fiend-of-frightfulness
Such shame on Heorot, had your own mind been,
Y ou r own heart as war-keen as you yourself claim;
16
B ut he has discovered he need not greatly 600
Fear the hostility, the deadly sword-fury 610
O f your people here, the Scylding men; 6*0
His toll he extorts, not one he spares 630
O f the Danish folk, but wars on them at will,
Killing, drowning, deeming the Danes
Incapable of opposing. B ut I soon now
W ill show him in conflict what the G eats possess
O f strength and courage. Again let any
G o carefree to the mead when the morning-light,
T h e flame-mailed sun shines from the south,
T o m o rro w ’s day on the children of men!’
T h a t was happiness to the giver of treasure,
Grey-haired, war-famed; the lord of the Danes
Saw help approaching; the protector of his people
Discovered in Beowulf steadfast intent.
T h e re rose the laughter of men, the rejoicing
Resounded loudly, and speech was sweet.
Wealhtheow, Hrothgar’s queen, came forward
Careful of the courtesies, gold-brilliant, welcomed
T h e men in the hall; and the royal hostess
First gave the cup to the guardian of the Danes,
Wished him, dear to his people, gladness
A t the beer-banquet; and he took in happiness,
K ing of victories, hall-cup and feast.
T h e woman of the Helmings then went round
T h e whole of the retinue, old and young,
Proffering princely cups, till at last
She brought the mead-beaker, she the queen
Ring-bright and distinguished of mind, to Beowulf;
She addressed the G eat, gave thanks to G od
In words of wisdom for granting her wish
T h a t she might put trust in some hero’s help
Against the disasters. He took the cup,
T h e war-hardened fighter from W ealhtheow’s hands,
And then he declared, in the vision of battle—
Beowulf spoke, Ecgtheow ’s son— :
‘ I had this in mind at the time I embarked,
>7
Entered the ship with m y company of men,
T h a t I should assuredly accomplish the yearning
O f all your people, or else be destroyed
In a fiend's stranglehold. Bravery of chivalry
I shall follow to victory, or else in this mead-hall
Suffer the close of m y living d a ys/
T h e woman was greatly pleased w ith those words,
64° W ith the G e a t’s w ar-vo w ; the folk-queen went
G old-shining, cynosure, to sit b y her lord.
T h e n there were again in the hall as before
T h e talk of heroes and the happiness of men,
T h e hum of an illustrious concourse, till presently
T h e son of Healfdene was minded to rest,
T o retire to his bed; he knew that the truce
In that monster’s war on the great hall lasted
From the time when their eyes first saw the sunlight
T ill louring night and the forms of the gloom y
650 Vaults came gliding over man and world
Black beneath the clouds. T h e whole assembly
Rose up. An d he turned then to the other,
H rothgar to Beowulf, wished him good fortune,
Entrusted him with the wine-hall, and spoke these words:
‘Never have I committed to any man before,
Since I could wield my hand and shield,
T h e Danish stronghold, till here now to you.
Keep now and guard the best of homes
In the memory of honour, blaze valour’s power,
Mo Fo r the fierce be sleepless! N othin g you may desire
W ill be lacking if you live through your desperate purpose.’
T h e n Hrothgar went w ith his troop of retainers,
T h e protector of the Scyldings, out of the hall;
T h e w ar-leader was ready to be w ith W ealhtheow
His consort and queen. Fo r the K ing of Kings
Had appointed a hall-guard, as men now knew,
T o watch against G rcn d cl: in a special serving
O f the Danish king was his vigil for the giant;
But still the G eat had steadfast trust
670 In his spirit and strength and in the grace of G od .
18
H e took off then his w ar-coat of iron,
His helmet from his head; gave his chased sword,
T h e choicest of blades, to a hall-attendant,
A n d told him to hold and guard the battle-gear.
T h en the good warrior uttered vaunt and vow,
Beowulf of the Geats, before he went to rest:
'I do not count myself of feebler striking-force
In the works of war than w hat G rendel boasts;
Therefore not w ith a sword shall I silence him,
D eprive him of his life, though it lies in m y power; 680
O f good arms he knows nothing, of fighting face to face,
O f the shattering of shields, though he stands renowned
Fo r works of violence; but w e tw o shall scorn
T h e sword tonight, if he dares to join
Weaponless battle, and then let G od,
L et the holy Lord decree the glory,
T o whichever side may please his wisdom.’
T h e man lay down then, the pillow embraced
T h e hero’s face, and many about him,
Eager sea-venturers, bent to their hall-beds. 69°
N o t one of them thought he would ever again
Leave there to find his beloved land,
His folk or his fortress, where he once was bred;
For they knew how sudden death had already
Sw ept from the wine-hall more than too many
O f those Danish men. B ut the L o rd wove them
Fortunate war-fates, solace and support
He gave the W eder-folk, so that they all
Destroyed their enemy through the strength of one,
B y his powers alone.— T h e truth is shown, 7° °
T h e great hand of G od time out of mind
M ovin g mankind.
G lid ing at midnight
Cam e the gloomy roamer. T h e soldiers were sleeping—
Those who were guarding the gabled building—
A ll except one. M en well knew
T h a t that malefactor in the forbidding of the Creator
W as powerless to draw them down beneath the shades;
*9
But he, wideawake with heart-pent fury
And anger for the ravager, awaited fight’s fortune.
710 Now by the swirling bluffs from his wasteland
Grendel came stalking; he brought G o d ’s wrath.
His sin and violence thought to ensnare
One of our kind in that hall of halls.
He moved through the night till with perfect clearness
He could see the banquet-building, treasure-home of men
Gold-panelled and glittering. N ot his first visit
Was this for attacking the house of Hrothgar;
In no day of his life before or after
Did he find hall-men or a hero more dangerous!
7*0 Up then to the building the man came prowling
Devoid of all delighting. T h e door, firm-iron-bound,
Flew at once ajar when he breached it with his fists;
T h e hall’s mouth he tore wide open, enraged
And possessed by his evil. Quickly after this
Th e fiend stepped over the stone-patterned floor,
M oved with fury; there started from his eyes
Unlovely light in the very form of fire.
M any a soldier he saw in the hall,
T h e company of kinsmen all asleep together,
73° T h e young warrior-band; and his heart exulted,
He aimed to divide, before day came,
Monstrous in frightfulness, life from limb
In every man of them, now that he had hope
O f ravening to gluttonousness. But the fate was finished
T h at could keep him after that night carnivorous
On human kind. T h e kinsman of Hygelac
Watched in his strength to see how the killer
Would go about his work with those panic hand-grips.
N or did the monster mean to be backward,
74° But flashed to seize at the first opportunity
A soldier from his sleep, tore him unopposed,
Gnashed flesh from bone, at veins drank blood,
Gulped down the feast of his wounds; in a trice
He had the last of the dead man devoured,
T o the feet and the fingers. He stepped farther in,
20
Caught then with his hand the iron-purposed
W arrior in his bed, the fiend with his fist
Reached out to seize him; he quickly gripped
T h e spite-filled creature, and rose upon his arm.
A s soon as evil’s dalesman discovered 7S°
T h at never had he known a stronger hand-grasp
In any other man beneath the sun
T hroughout earth’s acres, his mind began
T o fear for his flesh; by that he escaped
None the more readily! H e strained to be off,
T o strike den and dark, join the devil-covens;
His fate in that place was w ithout a fellow
Am on g his days before. T h e n the good warrior,
T h e kinsman of H ygelac recalled what he had said
T h a t evening, stood up, and grappled him close; 760
Joints cracked aloud; the giant moved off,
T h e man strode after him. T h e byword for malice
W af minded, if he could, to slip into the distance
T o the shelter of the fens— saw his fingers’ force
In the fierce man’s fist holds. A bitter coming
T h e persecutor had of it when he made for Heorot!
T h e royal hall rang; to all the Danes,
T o all the fortress-men, the brave, the warriors
Cam e panic horror. Both hosts-of-the-hall
W ere in rage, in ferocity. T h e building reverberated. 77°
It was more than a marvel that that wine-house
Stood up to the battle-darers, that the splendid walls
D id n ’ t fall to the ground; but it had the solidity,
It was cleverly compacted both inside and out
W ith its bands of iron. M an y were the mead-benches
Sumptuous with gold that were wrenched there from the
floor,
Beside the antagonists in their epic fury.
— A thing undreamed of by Scylding wisdom
T h a t any man could ever, in any manner,
Shatter it as it stood stately and horn-spanned, 780
B y sleights disrupt it: till fire’s embrace
Should become its furnace. A sound mounted up
Uncouth, unceasing: terror unparalleled
F ell upon the Danes, upon every soul of them
Who listened by the ramparts to the noise of crying,
T o the God-hated howling a lay of horror,
Song of lost triumph, the hell-fettered man
In lament for pain. He held him fast
Who at that hour of this earthly life
79° Was master of manhood of all mankind.
Nothing would make the protector of warriors
L e t slaughter’s emissary escape alive,
N or would he reckon many days left to him
O f profit to any man. Then Beowulf’s soldiers
Brandished here and there their ancient swords,
Anxious to defend the body of their lord,
Of the illustrious prince, as they might be able—
Ignorant of this, when they moved to fight,
Iron-minded men of arms,
8°o Thinking to strike on every side,
T o pierce to his spirit: that the lawless ravager
Was not to be reached by any war-blade,
N ot by the choicest metal on earth,
F or every sword-edge and weapon of victory
He had blunted by wizardry.— Wretched his future
N ow at that hour of this earthly life
C ut off from breath: far had the uncanny
Soul to wander into fiends’ dominions.
For then he discovered, who often before
8«o Had in his transgressions tormented the mind
Of human kind, he G od ’s antagonist,
T h at his own body would not obey him,
But the kinsman of Hygelac in undaunted encounter
Had him in his grasp; each was to the other
Abhorrent if alive. T h e appalling demon
Bore flesh-agony; on his shoulder became manifest
A monstrous wound, sinews quivering,
Tendons ripped open. T o Beowulf was granted
Trium ph in that fight; but to Grendel the flight
8*° In distress to death by the looming marshlands,
22
T o his joyless home; he had no more doubt
T h at the end of his life had arrived in sight,
T h e lease-date of his light. All the Danes’ desire
Was met and fulfilled by bloodshed of that fight.
For he who before had come from afar
In wisdom and singlemindedness had purged Hrothgar’ s
hall,
Saved it from persecution. T h e night’s work pleased him,
His deeds had proved him. T h e man of the Geats
Had carried out his boast in the sight of the Danes,
Just as he had redeemed the sum of that misery, 830
T h at sorrow in hostility they suffered in the past
And had to suffer, under stress of compulsion,
No small affliction. It was in clear tokening
Of this that the warrior laid down the hand,
T h e arm and the shoulder— the visible whole
Claw-hold of Grendel— beneath the soaring roof.
And then in the morning, as minstrels retell,
Warrior with warrior walked about the gift-hall;
Chieftains of the people from far and near
Crossed remote tracts to stare on the marvel, *4°
T h e footmarks of the fiend. Ungrievous seemed
His break with life to all those men
Who gazed at the tracks of the conquered creature
And saw how he had left on his way from that place—
Heart-fatigued, defeated by the blows of battle,
Death-destined, harried off to the tarn of krakens—
His life-blood-spoor. There the becrimsoned
Waters were seething, the dreadful wave-sweep
All stirred turbid, gore-hot, the deep
Death-daubed, asurge with the blood of war, 850
Since he delightless laid down his life
And his heathen soul in the fen-fastness,
Where hell engulfed him.
The veterans returned,
And many a youth, from that glad journey,
Home from the lake, rejoicing on horseback,
White-mounted warriors. Beowulf’s powers
*3
Were spoken of there; it was said repeatedly
Neither north nor south from sea to sea
Was there any other man throughout the earth’s immen
sity
S6o U nder arching heaven better in the bearing
O f a shield to battle or fitter to command.
— N ot that they cast any slur on their lord,
Grace-given Hrothgar; king and exemplar.
Sometimes the warriors let their dappled
Horses gallop and run in rivalry,
Wherever they saw the paths were pleasant
And known to be favourable. T h en a king’s retainer,
A man proved of old, evoker of stories,
Who held in his memory m ultitude on m ultitude
870 Of the sagas of the dead, found now a new song
In words well linked: the man began again
T o weave in his subtlety the exploit of Beowulf,
T o recite with art the finished story,
T o deploy his vocabulary. H e uttered everything
He had heard related concerning Sigemund
And his acts of valour, much of it unknown,
T h e strife of Waels’ son, his far travels,
Things unfamiliar to the children of men—
Feuds, crimes— except to his Fitela,
880 When these were the themes he was moved to muse over,
Uncle to nephew, as indeed they were ever
Battle-companions in all conflicts;
T h ey had killed with their swords an untold number
Of the race of giants. M en were not niggardly
Of their praise of Sigemund after he was dead:
His ruthless war-arm destroyed the dragon,
T h e treasure-hoard-guardian; a prince’s son,
He adventured the audacious meeting alone
Below the grey stone, for he didn’ t have Fitela;
890 Yet his was the fortune to transfix with his sword
T h e strangely-made serpent, till the noble metal
Stabbed to the cave-wall; the dragon died stabbed.
T h e hero had valiantly brought it about
*4
T h a t he might take pleasure in his ow n choice
O f the hoard of riches; he loaded his boat,
Bore into its hold the flashing luxuries,
H e the son of W aels; the firedrake dissolved.
T h a t was the most w idely famed of wanderers
T hrou ghout the nations, defender of warriors,
Fo r acts of valour— and by that he had prospered— , 9°°
Since battle-prowess lapsed from Heremod,
B oth daring and power: Herem od among fiends,
In to devilish hands evilly sent headlong
Impelled to his end; surging anxiety
Tram m elled him too long, he became to his people,
T o all his retinue, a m ortal burden—
A s many a wise man often lamented
His ruthless com ing in former days,
H aving trusted to find him an unraveller of their suffer
ings,
N o w sorry his royal blood should flourish, 9'°
An d he be dynastic, have command of the folk,
O f fortress and treasure-hoard, kingdom of heroes,
C o u ntry of the Scyldings.— T h a t man, the kinsman
O f Hygelac, became the dearer to all,
T o friends and humanity; evil the other.
Racing interm ittently, they paced their horses
On the dust-pale road. Soon the early sun
Was swept swiftly on. M any a retainer
W ent in all boldness to the hall of halls
T o be amazed by the spectacle; and the king himself, 9™
T h e jewel-hoard-guardian, stepped from his bedroom,
Splendid, surrounded by a numerous company,
Manifest in the dignities, came to the mead-hall,
His queen with him and a host of ladies.
H rothgar spoke— he went up to the house,
Stood at the porch, saw the great roof
Golden-lustred and G ren del’s hand— :
'F o r this sight now let thanks be given
T o Alm ighty G od! M uch have I endured,
Sorrows, Grendel’s hate; God w o rb for ever 9J®
*5
Wonder upon wonder, Guardian of glory.
It was not long ago I despaired of living
T o see a rem edy in all my days
F o r any of our afflictions— when the best of houses
Stood stained with blood, with battle-crimson— ,
T o see driven aw ay the grief of statesmen
A ll unsuspecting that the stronghold of the people
M igh t ever be defended against its enemies,
Against demons, against phantoms. A soldier has now
94® Accom plished through the power of G o d the action
W h ich all of us before were never able
W ith cunning to contrive. A h indeed that woman
W hoever she is that bore to hum anity
T h is son, can say if she is living still,
T o her the Ancient of D ays was gracious
In the birth of her child. An d now, Beowulf,
Best of men, I shall in this life
L o ve you as m y son; keep the new kinship
Clean from this day. Y o u shall not lack
95° A n y wish in the world that I can supply.
H ow often for less have I ordered a reward,
Treasure-honours for an inferior warrior,
One weaker in fight! You on your own account
H ave guaranteed in deeds that your glory will remain
Throughout all time. M ay the Alm ighty
W ith good repay you, as till now he has done!’
B eowulf spoke, Ecgth eo w ’s son:
‘W e most willingly undertook the conflict,
T h e work of courage, boldly made trial
9<o O f the stranger’s strength. I would that you
W ere able rather to gaze on the fiend
In his natural armour mortally outfought!
M y desire was to bind him w ith utmost speed
In unyielding handholds to the bed of blood,
So that he must lie in the grip of m y fists
Scuffling for life, unless his flesh gave w ay;
I was unable, in the will of G od ,
T o stop his escape, clung to him too loosely,
26
A desperate opponent; the fiend moved off
Far too impetuously. But he left his hand
T o have his life, he left behind him
Both arm and shoulder; though not by that
Did the miserable man secure any solace,
No longer for that will the malefactor live,
Crushed by his crimes, for pain has come
With its press and clutch he can never unlock,
With its final fetters; there he must wait,
Outlawed in his evil, for the main judgement,
T o see what the Creator in glory will decree him .'
T h e son of Ecglaf was more silent then
In speaking with boasting about martial actions,
When the nobles gazed up at that high roof
T o the hand the hero’s strong hand gained them,
T h e fingers of the fiend: each one at the tip,
Each of the nail-joints was like very steel,
T h e spur of the heathen fighter’s fist,
T h e claw, was monstrous; every man said
Not the hardest blade, tested of old,
Would be able to touch him and so despoil
T h e walking horror of his bloody battle-arm.
Then hands were ordered to be busy at once
Decorating Heorot; and many there were,
Both men and women, at work in the wine-hall,
T h e house of hospitality. Gold-woven tapestries
Glittered along the walls, many a curiosity
For the eyes of everyone gazing on such a thing.
Severely shattered was the shining building,
For all its inward iron-band-buttressing;
Its door-hinges were sprung; only roof escaped
W ithout any damage when the slaughter-guilty
Deed-stained monster turned away in flight
Despairing of life. Difficult is the flight
From that, from fate— let any man attempt it— ,
For each human soul, each child of man,
Each earth-inhabitant inevitably urged
Has to take possession of a place prepared,
27
W here the body enlaired and in bed locked fast
Sleeps after its feast.
N ow time had come
F o r the son of Healfdene to go to the hall;
1010 T h e king himself was eager for the banquet.
N ever, I am sure, in a greater assembly
D id men show better than these w ith their treasure-giver.
N o w at the bench the heroes were seated
A n d enjoyed their fill; and there the kinsmen,
H rothgar and H rothulf, great of heart
In that great hall, courteously quaffed
M an y a m ead-draught. Heorot was packed
W ith friendly men: no hint then
T h a t folk of the Scyldings would try treachery!
io»o T h e son of Healfdene gave now to Beowulf
A s victor’s reward a gold-woven banner,
A patterned battle-pennant, a helmet, a mail-coat,
A n d a great sword of swords, brought to the warrior
In the sight of all. Beowulf took up
His cup in the hall; he had no need of shame
Before the fightingmen for that sumptuous gift;
N o t many people have I heard of presenting
T o others at the ale-bench in a friendlier w ay
A fourfold treasure finished in gold.
1030 Round the helm et-top a w ire-twisted crest
K ept from outside the head’s protection,
T h a t the well-filed swords, the battle-tempered
W ould glance, not bite, w henever the shieldsman
Should sally out against hostile men.
A n d the captain of heroes had eight horses
W ith gold-inlaid head-trappings brought in the hall,
In under that roof; one w ith a saddle
M arvellously decorated, made rich w ith jewels:
T h is was the war-m ount of that great king
1040 W hen the son of Healfdene had a mind to engage
In the battle-play of swords— never did his famed
Fighting-strength fail him when the dead were falling
In the front of battle. A n d then the Danes’ king
28
Entrusted to Beowulf both of these things,
T h e horses and the arms: in happiness to use them.
So, as a man should, the illustrious prince,
W ealth-guard of warriors, repaid the w ar-frays
W ith chargers and treasures such as none shall decry
W ho is willing to speak of them in justice and truth.
T h e n still the king, to each of the men ,05°
W ho had made with Beowulf that ocean-voyage,
G ave at the mead-bench a costly present,
A n heirloom -gift, and commanded the recompense
T o be paid in gold for that man alone
W hom G rendel had wickedly killed before—
A s more of them he would have, till G o d in his wisdom
And the man’s courage forbade them that fate.
Everything human in the hand of G od
W as and now is. Best therefore everywhere
Is intelligence, foresight. M u ch must he learn i°*o
Both in love and in horror, who for long here
In these days of warring draws breath in the world!
There before Healfdene’s battle-commander
Voice and melody rose together,
H a rp -joy plucked and lays related,
W hen H rothgar’s minstrel came along the mead-bench
T o deliver his pleasure w ith words in the hall.
* [H e told his hearers a tale of the Frisians,]
O f the men of Finn and the attack made on them.
— Hnaef of the Scyldings, hero of the Half-Danes,
Was fated to fall on a Frisian field; 1070
N o r had she Hildeburh cause to commend
T h e Ju te s’ good faith; guiltless she lost
In the play of war-shields those she loved,
Both son and brother; pierced by the spear
T h e y dropped to their doom; that woman knew grief.
N o t at all em ptily was H o c’s daughter
Lamenting fate when morning came,
W hen her eyes could gaze on the carnage of kinsmen
U nder heaven’s sky, where once she had enjoyed (o8o
A ll earthly delight. W ar took away
*9
F in n ’s whole troop except a mere handful,
Making him helpless in that place of battle
T o force the fighting an inch upon Hengest
An d in combat crush for that prince’s retainer
His last-ditch survivors; but they offered them terms:
T o clear for them completely another hall-building,
W ith a throne of honour, and they to share
Possession of half w ith the men of the Jutes,
T h e son of Folcwalda at the givings of riches
1090 Honouring the Danes, entertaining Hengest
A n d his men w ith ring-presents— w ith precious treasures
O f beaten gold— on every occasion
A n d just as freely as his hand encouraged
His Frisian folk in the beer-banquet-hall.
T h e n they concluded on the two sides
A firm pledge of peace. F inn to Hengest
Bound himself b y oaths strongly and unreservedly:
T o protect w ith honour, by authority of his council,
T h e survivors in their misery, and no man there
1100 W as to break that pledge by either word or deed,
N o r must they murmur w ith malicious mind
T h o u gh it was their ring-giver’s killer they followed,
Deprived of their prince, as compulsion forced them;
A n d if any Frisian with hotheaded talk
Should provoke recollection of the feud and its blood
T h e n the edge of the sword would provoke it after.
— T h e pyre was prepared, and ancient gold
Taken from the treasure-hoard. T h e best of soldiers
Am ong Scylding men was ready for the flames,
m o Beside that pyre, needing no seeking,
W ere the blood-stained chain-shirt, the gold-cased boar-
device,
T h e iron-hard tusk-emblem, and many a fine man
Dead of wounds, fallen, as some fell, in the fighting.
Hildeburh called then for her own son
T o be committed to the burning at the pyre of Hnaef
A n d his body consumed, to be laid on the faggots
A t his uncle’s shoulder. T h e woman mourned,
30
In dirges lamented them. T h e w arrior was lifted;
T h e greatest of death-fires swirled to the clouds,
Roared before the mound; heads ran molten, mo
W ound-lips cracked, cruel flesh-tearings,
Jetted out their blood; the blaze, insatiablest
O f spirits, devoured all the w ar dead
Present on both sides: from the pride of life.
— So the fighters w ent back, bereft of friends,
T o make for their dwellings, to go to Friesland,
T o their upland town and homes. But Hengest
Still stayed w ith Finn out of hard necessity
T h a t death-tainted winter. He pictured his country,
Powerless as he was to put out to sea njo
T h e ring-prowed boat— the ocean storm-churned,
Battling with the wind, w inter-w ave-bound
In chain of ice, till another season
Visited the world, as it must, w ith days
Gloriously adazzle in vigil for their hours
F o r ever without fail. W in ter passed then,
Fair was earth’s face; the exile hated,
T h e stranger, these courts; but considered more
T h e avenging of sorrow than the voyaging of the seas,
How he might bring about a battle-meeting 1140
F o r his inward brooding over Jutish men.
So his became the remedy of a common desire,
And he took up in his arms the sword of swords,
T h e blade Hunlafing, flashing in war;
Its edges were not unknown to the Jutes.
So also there fell on the bold-heart Finn
Fierce sword-killing at his own home again,
W hen G uthlaf and Oslaf complained of their misery
And the savage assault made on the seafarers,
Charged him with their many griefs: restless 115°
T h e hearts in their breasts could forbear no more.
T h e hall then was crimsoned with lifeblood of fighters,
An d Finn himself slain, the king among his host,
And the queen taken. T h e Scyldings transferred
T o their ships all the furnishings of that country’s king,
31
And whatever they could find in the house of Finn—
Rare gems and jewels. T h e noble lady
T h e y carried by sea in their voyage to the Danes,
Brought her to her people.
So {jie lay was sung,
n6o T h e story of the minstrel. T h e glad stir resumed,
Loud rang the bench-clamour, cupbearers poured
From kingly wine-jugs. Then moved forward
Wealhtheow diademed with gold to where the two good
warriors
W ere sitting, uncle w ith nephew; at that time peace still
bound them,
Each was true to the other. Spokesman U n ferth there too
Sat at the Scylding king’s feet; every man believed in his
integrity,
T h a t he possessed a mind of power, although he had been
.unmerciful
T o his kinsmen when swords were glancing. T h e n the
woman of the Scyldings spoke:
‘Tak e this cup, my own lord and king,
1170 G iv e r of treasure. T ak e your pleasure
G old -friend of men, and speak to the G eats
W ith words of kindness as courtesy commands.
T o the G eats be gracious, magnanimous to proffer
W h at you here possess from far and near.
Y o u I believe have asked the warrior
T o be as your son. Heorot is cleansed,
T h is glorious gift-h all; be free while you can
W ith rewards unstinted, and leave to your kinsmen
People and kingdom when you have to embark
11S0 In the vision of doom. I have faith in H rothulf,
G oo d as he is, that he w ill honourably
Keep the young retinue, if you before he,
Friend of the Scyldings, should leave the world;
Surely he will with liberality
Repay our own sons, remembering everything
W e did for him as a child, kindnesses of old,
T o give him delight and lay honours upon him.’
32
She turned to the bench then, where her sons were,
Hrethric and Hrothm und, and all the young retainers
T h e children of heroes; the good warrior sat there 1190
Beowulf of the G eats beside the two brothers.
T h e cup was brought to him, and friendly words
Invited him to drink, and twisted gold
W as gladly offered him, tw o arm-ornaments,
W ar-chains and rings, and the greatest necklace
I have ever known of here on this earth.
— N o better treasure from human hoard
W as seen beneath the sun since Hama bore off
T h e Brosing necklace to that brilliant city,
G em , mount, and lustre; he fled from Eorm enric’s 1200
C ra fty machinations, chose timeless wisdom.
T h e next possessor of that ring-jewel
W as Hygelac of the G eats, Sw erting’s grandson,
From the time when his banner guarded the treasure,
Defended the w ar-booty; he was seized b y fate
W hen for glory’s sake he courted misery
In Frisians’ enmity. T hose jewels he took,
T h e powerful prince, those rare stones over
T h e brimming waves; and by his shield he fell.
T h e king’s body passed then into Frankish hands, mo
His coat of mail, and the necklace as well;
Worse were the warriors who after that battle-slaughter
Plundered the dead; G eat folk filled
T h e field of the killed.— T h e hall-rafters rang.
W ealhtheow spoke, she said before the company:
’ T ake joy in this jewel, and prosper, Beowulf,
Y ou ng man endeared to us, and be served by the chain-
mail
A n d by these great treasures, and flourish, flourish,
Show yourself in your strength, and be to these boys
Kind in your counsel. Reward for that kindness 1220
W ill be in my mind. W hat you have accomplished
Means men will praise you both far and near
W henever and wherever the sea beats round
E arth ’s blustering cliffs. W arrior be happy
33
W h ile life is yours! M a y you from m y wishes
G ro w rich in treasures. B e good to m y son,
A ct in charity from your store of joy.
H ere every man is true to his fellow,
Humane of mind and loyal to his.lord,
1230 T h e retinue are as one, the people are eager,
T h e heroes are w ine-glad and quick to m y beckon.’
She w ent then to her seat. M e n drank their wine:
Best of feasts there! O f fate they knew nothing,
O f destiny to be dreaded, o f w hat was to fall
Upon many a man when evening came
A n d H rothgar retired to his own dwelling,
T h e prince to his rest. A m ultitude of warriors
W ere on guard in the hall, as they often were before.
T h e y cleared the bench-floor; soon it was spread
1240 W ith beds and bolsters. M a n y a beer-banqueter
Bent to his hall-couch for sleep— and no waking.
T h e y placed b y their heads their shining shields
T h e ir battle-bucklers; and there on the bench
A b o ve the heroes, not far to seek:
W oven chain-mail, crown-of-war helmet,
T errib le spear-shaft! T h e ir custom it was
T o be ready for war at any time,
Both at home and on service, and in each of these
O n whatever occasions their own liege lord
12J0 Should And himself at hazard: an excellent people.
[12 5 1- 18 8 7 ] Beowulf and GrendeVs Mother
T h e y sank then to sleep. For his night’s rest
One paid heavily, as had often been
T h eir lot since Grendel haunted the gold-hall,
Acted his evil till the end was obtained,
Death for his sins. It was soon clear to men,
Known far and wide, that an avenger still
Had survived the enemy, survived for some time
T h e agony of the battle: that misery was remembered
B y the mother of Grendel, monster in woman-sex,
34
She who had to live in the terrible streams, 1160
T h e freezing waters, when Cain became
T h e sword-blade-slayer of his own brother
T h e fruit of his father, and then went outlawed,
Fled m urder-branded from jo y of mankind,
M ad e wilderness his home: from him sprang thick
Demons of G o d ’s doom, G rendel among them
M an-hated, homicidal, the finder in Heorot
O f a fighter vigilant and waiting for war;
T h e monster had him there in his grip,
B ut he called to mind the strength he commanded, 1170
T h e magnificent gift G od had granted him,
A n d he looked to the L o rd for all his grace,
F o r his solace and support; and defeated the fiend,
Humbled the hell-fetch. W retched he went then,
D evoid of all delighting, to seek death in hiding,
Enem y of hum anity. B u t now his mother,
Blackhearted and gluttonous, was moved to set out
O n a journey of danger to avenge her son’s death.
T o Heorot then she came, where the Danes
Slept w ithin the hall. Fate for those men iz8o
Sw ept on its wheel when G rendel’s mother
G o t into the building. T h e panic was the less
B y just as much as the strength of woman-sex,
Amazon battle-fury, is less than a m an’s
When the band-adorned sword, hammer-hardened,
T h e bloodstained blade unyielding of edge
Bites on the boar-image of a hostile head.
T h e n in the hall the tough-tempered sword
W as drawn above the benches, and many a broad shield
B y firm hand lifted; when that horror clutched, > 19 °
W ho thought of helm et or of great chain-mail?
She was off in haste, anxious to leave there,
T o escape w ith her life, when men discovered her;
She had fastened in a flash on one of the heroes
W ith heavy grasp, and gone to her fen.
He whom she tore from sleep to death
Was held by Hrothgar as the dearest of men
35
Raised among retainers from sea to sea,
Fine shield-fighter, soldier of good name.
1300 Beowulf was absent, for a separate lodging
Had earlier been prepared, after the treasure-giving,
F o r the illustrious G eat. Clamotfr in Heorot!
She had taken that sight, the bloodied hand;
Care came again, fell on those dwellings.
E v il the barter where both sides must tender
T h e lives of their friends!
T h e aged king
T h e grey-haired warrior was vexed in his mind,
W hen he learned that his leading retainer lay
Lifeless, that his dearest man was dead.
>3>o Speedily Beowulf the victorious soldier
W as summoned to the room. A s day was breaking
T his man went in, the noble fighter
A n d his companions with him, where the wise king waited
W ondering if the Lord would ever grant him
A happy reversal of his wretched history.
T h e n the trusted w arrior walked across the floor
W ith his own band of men— the hall-wood reverberated—
U n til he approached and spoke to the wiseminded
Ruler of the Danes, asked if he had had
13*° A n untroubled n ight according to his desire.
H rothgar spoke, protector of the Scyldings:
‘A b o u t happiness ask nothing! Sorrow has returned
T o the Danish people. Aeschere is dead,
T h e elder brother of Yrmenlaf,
Counsellor and adviser close to m y heart,
Shoulder-comrade in the days of war
W h en w e guarded our heads as troops clashed
A n d struck at boar-emblems. A s Aeschere was,
Seasoned and trusted, so should man be.
133° A wandering spirit bloodthirsty in Heorot
Killed him w ith her hands; where she went back to,
Gladdened by her feasting, glorying in the carrion,
Horrible— is unknown to me. T h e fight she has avenged
W here yesterday evening you destroyed Grendel
36
In violent act w ith unlax fists >340
Since he had deprived me of my folic and ruined them »35°
Longer than was right. He fell in the strife, ' 360
His life he forfeited, and now this demon ' 37°
Has come in her power to avenge her kin—
An d has done much already to retaliate in the feud,
As may now appear to many a retainer
G rievin g in his mind for the giver of treasure:
Heavy the heartache, now that that hand
Is at rest which availed for all your desires.
T h is I have heard m y people say,
Country-dwellers and statesmen in hall,
T w o they had seen, two such, huge,
T h e moors their kingdom, wasteland-stalkers,
U nearthly creatures. One of them had,
A s far as they were able with certainty to discern,
T h e form of a woman; her joyless companion
To o k in man’s shape his outcast steps—
E xcep t that he was greater than any man besides;
An d from long long ago to people of this land
G rendel is his name; as for their paternity—
T h e souls are occult that might have been ancestors
In earlier days! T h e y guard a region
U n couth, wolves’ dunes, blustering headlands,
Desperate fen-ground, where the mountain-torrent
Falls down under the louring bluffs,
Pours down to earth. It is not far distant
Measured b y miles that that lake lies;
G roves overhang it clothed w ith hoarfrost,
A great-rooted wood throws shade on its water.
T h e re a strange horror at night may be seen,
A blaze on the stream. O f the children of men
N o t one has wisdom that could plumb that abyss.
Even when the strong-horned stag, the heath-prancer
Hard-pressed by hounds, hunted from afar,
Is searching for a covert, sooner will he die,
G iv e up his life at the lake-edge, than enter
T o hide his head there. U nholy that place is:
37
U p from it mounts the tumult of waters
Black to the clouds, when the w ind rouses
M alice and tempest darkening the air
T i ll the w eeping of the skies.— N o w help again
Is in your hands alone. T h e land is still new to you,
T h e desperate spot that awaits your encounter
W ith its vicious denizen; let your daring take you!
1380 I shall repay you for that fight with riches,
W ith long-guarded treasures, as I did before,
W ith twisted gold, if you return once more.’
Beowulf spoke, E cgth eo w ’s son:
‘ W ise lord, leave grief! B etter for every man
Is the avenging of his friend than long sorrowing.
Each of us has to abide the ending
O f life in the world; let him strive who can
F o r j*lory before death, because that is best
T o the retainer after his life is spent.
1390 Rise up king of men, let us quickly set off
A n d examine the track of G ren del’s kinswoman.
T h is I promise you: she shall relish no retreat,
N eith er the bowels of the earth nor the mountain forest
N o r the bottom of the sea, go where she will!
Y o u now, for all the distresses you bear
Be patient this day, as I look for you to be.’
T h e old king leapt up, gave thanks to G o d ,
T o the L o rd in his pow er, for w hat the man had spoken.
H rothgar’s horse then was bitted and bridled,
1400 T h e w avy-m aned mount. T h e wise-m inded prince
Rode off in his arm our; a troop of shieldsmen
M arched at his side. T h e re lay the footmarks
Visible far and wide through the woodland paths,
T h e track across the plains, the w ay she had headed
O ver the gloom y moor, carrying off lifeless
T h a t best of retainers, the chief of those
W h o kept w ith Hrothgar w atch in the hall.
T h e n the children of men passed over
Precipitous rock-falls, narrow pathways,
1410 Dangerous defiles, a road unmapped,
38
Ab ru p t promontories riddled with kraken-caves;
He with a handful of w ary-m inded men
Rode on in front scanning the country,
T ill he came suddenly upon the mountain-trees
Bending low over hoary rock,
A joyless forest; beneath lay the water
Labouring and blood-thickened. T o the Scylding com
pany,
T o all the Danes came vexation of heart
Hard to be borne, to many a retainer,
T o every man grief when they found ifio
O n the cliffs of the lake, Aeschere’s head.
W aves welled blood as the people looked,
Boiled with crimson. A t intervals the horn
Sang its sharp troop-summons. Foot-soldiers sat then
A n d saw over the w ater serpentkind congregated,
Strange sea-dragons making trial of the tarn,
Krakens too, lying on the headland slopes,
Like those which often in morning forays
G aily the mariners’ thoroughfare,
Reptiles, wild creatures. T h e y backed away *430
Irritated, angered; they recognized the blast,
T h e war-horn-song. A man of the Geats
W ith his bow cut one of them off from life,
From w arring w ith the waves, a hard battle-arrow
Boring into its lifeblood; it was the slacker in swimming
O ver the ocean after death seized it.
A t once it was closely cornered in the waves
B y keen-barbed boar-pikes, forcibly taken
A n d drawn up on the headland, an amazing denizen
O f wave and flood; the men gazed at it, ' 44°
G risly thing and uncouth!
Beowulf put on
T h e garments of battle, of his own life heedless;
T h e broad war-corslet designed with art,
Close-hand-woven, must probe the water,
W ar-corslet expert to protect his body,
Lest battlehold of the enraged, lest malicious clutch
39
M ig h t have power to attain his heart and his life;
A n d his head was guarded by that gleam ing helm et
W hich must trouble and stir the abysses of the lake,
1450 V isit the mulling of streams, bejewelled,
Chain-circled, princelike, just as long ago
T h e weapon-smith made it, marvellously forged it,
Set boar-figures round it, that never thereafter
M igh t sword or w ar-m etal be able to shear it.
T h a t too was not the meagrest of mainstays
W h ich H rothgar’s spokesman lent him at need:
Hrunting was the name of that hafted sword;
It was one famous among ancient treasures;
T h e blade was of iron, poison-twig-patterned,
1460 B attle-blood-hardened; never did it fail
A n y man at war who grasped it in his hands,
W ho dared adventure in exploits of danger,
In the homestead of fighters; not for the first time
W as it now to accomplish an act of valour.
T h e son of Ecgla f strong in power
W as indeed forgetful of w hat he said before
W ith wine in his words when he lent that weapon
T o a finer swordsman; himself fearful
O f venturing his life under the waves’ uproar,
1470 T o manifest his heroism: losing glory so,
Fam e of good acts. W ith the other how different
Once he had put on the garments of battle!
Beowulf spoke, Ecgth eo w ’s son:
‘ Recall now, illustrious heir of Healfdene,
Wise prince, now that I am ready to go,
G old-friend of men, w hat w e tw o have said,
T h a t if I in your service should lose m y life
You would stand always in the place of a father
T o me after I had gone from the world.
1480 Em brace in your protection m y young retainers,
M y comrades-in-arms, if w ar should take me;
Also send Hygelac, H rothgar m y friend,
T hose precious things you have made me a gift of,
And the lord of the Geats may in that gold perceive,
40
Hrethel’s son see when he gazes on that treasure,
T h a t I found a ring-giver noble in all lcingly
Liberalities, and enjoyed them while I was able.
A n d let U n ferth have the ancient heirloom,
L e t the far-fam ed man have the hard-edged sumptuous
Wave-scrolled sword; I with Hrunting 1490
Shall win m y glory, or death shall take me.’
A fte r these words the man of the G eats
Hastened off eagerly— by no means lingering
For any rejoinder; the surging water
G o sed over the warrior. It was almost a day then
Before he could make out the form of the lake-floor.
She at once, guardian of the field of floods
F o r a century of seasons, savage-ravenous,
G rim and gluttonous, discovered some man
W as sounding there, down towards dominions of demon- i$oo
kind.
She grappled with him then, gripped the warrior
In frightful fistholds; hu rting none the sooner
T h e firm flesh w ithin— the casing chain-armour
K ept him round about, the war-dress unpierced,
T h e interlocked mail-coat by her fierce fingers.
W hen the wolfish water-fiend reached the bottom
She carried the ring-giver, the prince, to her hall,
So that he couldn’t— whatever his bravery—
Make use of his weapons, and then through the water
Countless strange things harassed him, sea-beasts 1510
O f m any kinds tried w ith their battle-tusks to slash
His chain-mail, monsters tormented him. T h e n the man
Saw he was in some hall of his enem y’s,
W here not a drop of water would harm him,
W here a vaulted chamber kept the sudden
Flood-fall from touching him; and he saw firelight,
A gleam and a flashing brilliantly shining.
T h e good fighter saw then the abyss’s curse,
T h e great sea-demon-woman; a tremendous onslaught
He made w ith his war-sword, his hand drove its stroke, 15*0
T ill the ring-banded blade rang out on her head
4*
Its hungry battle-song. T h e n the stranger found
T h a t the glittering metal refused to bite,
W ould not hurt life, but the edge failed
T h e prince in his need; it had borne brunt before
O f m any an encounter, hacked many a helmet
A n d doomed man’s war-dress; for the precious treasure
T h is was the first time its glory faltered.
Resolute again was H ygelac’s kinsman,
530 N o t backward in bravery, mindful of all audacity.
T h e warrior now infuriated threw down on the ground
T h e wave-marked sword steel-edged and stubborn
W ith its bands of rare handiwork; he put faith in strength,
In the hand-grip of power. So shall a man act
W hen in the midst of war he takes heart to win
L o ng-living praise: careless of his life.
T h e man of the G eats then seized b y the shoulder—
N o shrinking in that fight!— G ren del’s mother,
An d roused by rage to battle-relentlessness
S4° Sw u ng the desperate enemy till she fell to the floor.
She in turn quickly gave him a requital
W ith her cruel clawholds and closely grappled him;
T h e n the foot-soldier, strongest of warriors,
Exhausted in spirit, slipped and fell,
A n d she bestrode her hall-guest, and drew her knife
Broadbladed, burnished; vengeance she wanted
F o r her child, her only son. O n his shoulder lay
T h e chain-net of his war-m ail protecting his flesh,
Forbidding the piercing of spear-point and sword-edge.
5so T h e son of Ecgtheow and champion of the G eats
W ould then have been lost under the vastness of the earth
If his coat of armour had not furnished him help,
His unyielding battle-mail— and G o d in holiness
Drawn the fight to triumph: in his wisdom the Lord
T h e Ruler of the heavens gave his simple
Decree for the right, when he rose once more.
Then he saw a sword, a victor among weapons,
A blade of old time, giant-forged, tough-edged,
A n honour for its bearers; it was the best of arms,
4*
O nly greater in bulk than could ever be carried 1560
B y any other man into press of battle,
T rustw o rth y, a splendour, the labour of titans.
T h e chained hilt he seized then, the Scyldings’ champion
In fierceness and w ar-anger, brandished the ringed blade
Despairing of life, and in fury struck,
So that it bit hard into her neck
T ill the backbone broke: the iron pierced through
A doomed shell of flesh; she dropped to the floor;
T h e sword was bloodstained, the man’s work gladdened
Radiance flashed out, the light sprang within, 1 570
T w in to the candle of heaven as in clearness
It shines from the sky. H ygelac’s retainer
Looked along the vault, turned b y the wall,
Lifted up the weapon firmly by its hilt,
An gry and unrelenting— the warrior didn’t count
T h a t swordblade despicable, but was eager to be quick
In repaying G rendel for the multitude of attacks
H e had made warring on the Danish nation
O ftener by far than on that one occasion
W hen he slaughtered Hrothgar’s hearth-companions 1580
L y in g at their rest, devoured fifteen
Folk of the Danes, slumbering men,
And went carrying off as many more again,
Plunderings of horror. Fo r that he had rewarded him,
T h e fierce-minded fighter, so that now he could gaze on
G rendel lying moveless, war-drained of his force,
Lifeless, as the battle in hours gone
Had crushed him in Heorot. T h e corpse burst open,
W hen he suffered a blow even after death,
A keen sword-stroke; so he beheaded him. 1590
Imm ediately the wise-hearted men who were looking
W ith Hrothgar at the water saw that its waves
In their streaming tumult were all stirred turbid,
T h at the flood was blood-flecked. T h e grey-streaked heads,
T h e old men drew together speaking of the good warrior,
How they thought the prince would never return,
43
Come backinvictory tovisit again
T h e illustrious king; it was what m any feared then,
T h a t the wolfish sea-dem on-woman had been his destruc
tion.
1600 N o w it was the ninth hour of the^day. T h e valiant
Scyldings left the cliff; the gold-lord of men
T u rn ed from there to his home. T h e strangers sat
Sick at heart and stared across the lake;
T h e y desired and they despaired to look on the living
flesh
O f their lord and friend. T h e n that sword, that war-blade
Bloodied by the fight began wasting away
In battle-icicles: it was a thing to marvel at
W hen it all melted down as if it was the ice
T h e Father unleashes from the chain of frost,
1610 W ater-bonds he slips whose power keeps
A ll times and seasons; he in truth is G od .
T h e man of the G eats took no more from that place
In the w ay of rich possessions (though he saw plenty there)
T h a n the head of G ren del and w ith it that hilt
Bristling w ith jewels; the sword had dissolved,
T h e scrolled blade fused: so hot that blood was,
So venomous the hell-fiend who died in that hall.
Quickly he swam off; he had fought before to see
His enemies war-felled; he thrust up through the w ater.
1620 Cleansed were the tum ult and swirl of the waves,
Pure the vast reaches, when the alien soul
L e ft living days and this lease of creation.
T h e protector of seafarers came then to land,
Swim m ing resolutely; he rejoiced in the sea-booty,
In the weighty burden he carried with him.
T h e splendid retinue went then to meet him,
T h e y gave thanks to G od , they were gladdened by the
prince
N o w that their eyes could see him unharmed.
T h e n the brave warrior’s helmet and chain-mail
1630 W ere speedily loosened. T h e tarn lay still,
T h e w ater w ith death’s red stained under the sky.
T h e y followed the footpaths forward from that place,
T h e y were happy at heart, they marched across the
earth,
On the well-known road; noble in valour
M en took the head from the lake-side cliff,
A n d every one of them, a soldier and distinguished,
Found the task hard; four of them were needed,
A n d trouble was needed, to bear on the spear-shaft
G rendel’s head to the hall of gold,
T ill presently the men, the fourteen G eats 1640
War-keen and daring came up to the house;
T h e lord of the retinue, soldierly among his throng,
Walked w ith them along the mead-hall’s approaches.
A n d so the prince of warriors came in,
T h e man bold of act, the battle-brave hero
In glory revered, to greet Hrothgar.
T h e n G rendel’s head was brought by the hair
Into the hall where the retinue were drinking,
A horror before the nobles and the woman with them,
A spectacle and a wonder; men’s eyes were transfixed. 1650
Beowulf spoke, Ecgtheow ’s son:
‘O Scylding prince, heir of Healfdene,
These sea-spoils which you look on here
W e have brought you in gladness as the token of conquer
ing.
N ot easily did I escape w ith m y life
In that submarine strife, m y daring in the deed
Was done under difficulty; the combat would immediately
Have been swept to a close, but G od shielded me.
Nothing in the battle could I accomplish
W ith H runting, although it is a weapon of power; 1660
But grace was granted me by the Lord of men—
H e surest guide of those made friendless—
T o see hung on the wall, beautiful, huge,
A sword of old time; and this blade I drew.
T h e hall’s guard was killed when time and chance
Became mine in that fight. T h e wave-scrolled war-sword
Burnt away then as the blood burst out,
45
Ferventest battle-sweat. From there I plundered,
From the enemy, that hilt; I avenged the crimes,
1670 T h e carnage of the Danes, as it was mine to do.
N ow this I promise you, that you in Heorot
M ay sleep without sorrow among your retainers
As may all your people from veteran to boy:
T h a t you need have fear of death and ill
F o r them, for your men, prince of the Scyldings,
N ever from that quarter where you feared before.’
T hen into the hands of the year-worn warrior
Was the golden hilt given, titan-work of old
T o the grey-haired battle-leader; it came into the
possession
1680 O f the lord of the Danes when the demons fell,
Master-smiths’ wonder-work; when G od’s adversary,
T h e man black of heart, murder-sin-stained
And his m other with him went from the world,
It passed into the power of the best of kings
Ruling on earth from sea to sea
Who ever distributed treasures in Denmark.
Hrothgar spoke; he gazed on the hilt,
On the ancient heirloom inscribed with the genesis
Of that far-off strife when the ocean, the pouring
1690 Flood struck down all giantkind;
Audacity was in their acts, they were a race estranged
From G od everlasting: rewarded for it at last
When the rising waters were stirred by the Lord.
Also on the hilt-plates of glittering gold
Was carefully charactered in runic letters,
W ritten and expressed for whom the good blade,
T h e spiral-hafted sword, the serpent-patterned
Had first been made. Now in his wisdom spoke
Healfdene’s son— all were silent— :
1700 ‘ Ah, the old guardian of his country who has dealt
In sincerity and justice with his folk, recalling
A ll things, far back, may well say this man
Was born for excelling! Beowulf my friend,
Through remote regions over every nation
46
Your power and renown are raised. You hold it all in watch
fulness,
You r strength with wariness of mind. I shall bind fast with
you
T h at friendship we spoke of before. You shall lire to be a
comfort
T o your own people through long years,
A blessing to men.— How different was Heremod
T o Ecgwela’s folk, to Scylding retainers! 1710
He grew not to their pleasure but rather to the slaughter
And the bloody m urder of the Danish people;
H e destroyed in his wrath his banquet-companions
And his bosom-comrades, till he turned away in exile,
A prince and a byword, from all human happiness.
Although m ighty G od had advanced him in virtues
O f strength and vigour, had set him at the forefront
O f all other men, his heart began to harbour
Bloodthirsty purposes; not a ring would he give
T o the Danes for his glory; he lived without joy 1720
T ill he came to atone for the distress and the strife,
His folk’s long-suffering. Make this your wisdom,
Show man free-hearted! It is for your ears
I have told this lay, from the store of my years.
It is strange to consider how mighty God
In his vast meditation endows mankind—
Rank, lands, intelligence: all from his power.
Sometimes in a man of illustrious race
He allows the understanding to meander into delight,
Proffers him in his own place the pleasures of the world 173°
And the fortress-city of his folk to serve him,
Makes a great kingdom, great tracts of the earth
Seem his to keep, till he cannot see
In his own unwisdom that it will ever end.
His life is a feasting; neither sickness nor decrepitude
Cripples him with one touch, nor does any battle-sorrow
Spread black through his heart, nor contention anywhere
In sword-hatred bear fruit, but the whole world
Wheels towards his will; he knows nothing of the reverse,
47
1740 T i ll in his own mind a monstrous arrogance
Swells and flourishes w hile the watchm an drowses,
T h e soul’s keeper— O sleep too clinging,
F ettered b y his cares, and that killer so near
W h o strikes from his bow satanic bojts!
T h e n in his armour he feels his breast shot
B y a stinging shaft— guard himself he cannot— ,
B y strange cross-promptings from the accursed spirit;
W h at he has long possessed seems to him too little,
H e turns miser, heart-m align, never offers for his honour
*7J° T h e gold-rich ring-treasures, and the doom to come
Is oblivion in him and blindness, because G o d once gave
him,
G o d the king of G lo ry , distinctions and greatness.
B u t the end is w ritten and it comes to pass
T h a t the brittle shell of flesh perishes,
In its fate falls; and another rules
T o dispense precious things, hero-wealth of old,
W ith a reckless hand, regardless of fear.
G uard yourself against that m alignity and ill,
Beloved Beowulf, best of men,
*760 A n d grasp w hat is fairer, the faith everlasting;
Glorious warrior, abhor every vainglorying.
In this brief hour the flower of your manhood
Blows, and then in a flash either sickness or the sword,
Either the seizure of fire or the seething of the flood,
Either battle-blade’s bite or battle-spear’s flight
O r terrible decrepitude shall deprive you of life,
O r the light of your eyes shall dwindle and darken;
O prince, in w hat imminent death are you stricken!
I myself have ruled the Danes under the sun
*77° F o r half a century, and I protected them against
Assault from many a tribe widespread on this earth,
Against spear and sword, till I counted myself free
O f every adversary beneath the arch of heaven.
A h , how that was changed for me and my country,
From solace to sorrow, once G rendel the inveterate
Antagonist became m y invader here;
48
Great grief of mind I bore incessantly
From that persecution. L et God be thanked,
T h e eternal Lord, that I should ever have lived 1780
To gaze w ith m y own eyes, after this ancient feud,
On that head stained w ith the blood of the sword.
N ow take your seat and have pleasure in the feast,
Honoured by your war-deeds; it is unnumbered treasures
I shall be sharing with you when morning comes.'
T h e G eat rejoiced, he went at once
T o take up his place as the wise king required.
T hen as once before the guests sitting in hall,
T h e fighters of courage were feasted courteously
F o r a second time. Shade from night’s shell
Fell dark on the retinue. T h e nobles arose; 1790
T h e grey-haired man, the aged Scylding
W as ready for his rest. T h e G eat, the brave shieldsman
Looked forward to his sleep more than he could say;
A t once the far-traveller tired after his adventure
Was shown to his place by a hall-attendant,
B y one whose duty it was to look after
Each need of a warrior, such as in those days
Seafaring soldiers might happen to have.
T h e great-hearted man took his rest; the building
Soared up, huge-vaulted, gold-shimmering; its guest «*°°
Slept on within till the swarthy raven
Gave happy greeting to the glory of heaven.
Then light shook out bright above the shadows;
T h e fighters sprang up, the warriors were eager
T o make again for home; the spirit of the stranger
Strained to see his ship and leagues of its wake.
T h e bold soldier called then for Hrunting to be brought
T o the son of Ecglaf, had him take his sword,
Priceless metal; thanked him for its use,
Saying he had proved it a friend in battle,
War-tough, excellent—his words found no fault
In that blade’s edge. A man who knew courage!
And at last the warriors, the voyage-desirers
Were ready in their armour; the prince dear to the Danes
49
W ent up to the throne where the other prince was,
T h e valorous fightingman saluted Hrothgar,
Beowulf spoke, Ecgtheow’s son:
‘T h e time has come for us seafarers,
Far-borne visitors, to say we are departing
1820 On our way to Hygelac. T h is place has been hospitable
Unfailingly and to all desire; you have done us every
favour.
I f now on this earth I can earn by any means
A mightier portion of your mind’s love
Th an I yet have won in the works of war;
0 lord of men, I shall at once be there.
If from beyond the rolling of the seas
1 hear that your neighbours threaten you with terror,
As hostile souls have threatened you before,
I shall come to you with a thousand warriors,
1830 Retainers to help you. I am persuaded that Hygelac,
L ord of the Geats and guardian of his people,
Though he may be young, will be willing to back me
In speech and in service, so that I may rightly
Honour you and bring war-spears to aid you,
T h e support of our strength, wherever you need men.
If therefore Hrethric your royal son
Should think of the Geatish court, he may find
M any a friend there; he who is himself
W orthy, is the one to seek far shores.’
1840 Hrothgar in answer spoke to him then:
‘These words of yours the L ord in his wisdom
Has sent into your heart; I have heard no man
U tter more reason from a life so young.
You are masterly in strength and sure of mind,
Sense is in your speaking. I do not doubt,
If fate should demand that war in its ruthlessness,
If the spear should take the son of Hrethel,
I f sickness or sword-blade should seize your prince
T h e guardian of his people, and you are still living,
•850 T h a t the Geats over the sea could make no finer
Choice for their kingship, for the keeper of the treasures
50
O f all the heroes, should it be your consent
T o rule in your homeland. Y ou r spirit I cherish
A s I grow into its knowledge, beloved Beowulf.
You have brought it about that between these peoples,
T h e nation of the Danes and the nation of the Geats,
Peace shall pass, and strife shall have truce—
T h e hostilities and maliciousness they suffered before,
A n d treasures shall pass as long as I have power
In this spacious kingdom, and many a man i860
G reet man w ith gifts where the gannets plunge;
T h e spiral-prowed ship shall skim the main
W ith offerings and tokens of our love. I can see
T hese peoples made steadfast towards ally and enemy,
In everything ingenuous as in days of old.’
T h e n the son of Healfdene, protector of men,
Presented him in the hall with a dozen new treasures,
Sending him w ith these gifts to seek in all safety
His home and his folk, speedily to return.
And the prince of the Scyldings, the king renowned 1870
In every excellence took the best of warriors
By the neck and kissed him; and he shed his tears;
A n d grey was his head. From the wisdom of his years
H e could look for tw o things, but one was more certain,
T h a t never again would they see one another
As heroes met together. T h e man was so dear to him
T h a t he could not stem the surging in his breast;
B ut locked in his heart by the mind’s bonds
His hidden longing for the beloved man
Burned on through his blood. Beowulf from him then 1**°
M oved out into the field, a warrior fair in gold
Heart-gladdened w ith treasure. Riding at anchor
T h e wave-skimmer waited for its owner and lord.
A n d while they were walking, the liberality of Hrothgar
W as repeatedly extolled; that was one king
T o be reproached in nothing— till all jo y and force
Fled in him from age which has crushed so many hosts.
[ 1888- 2199] Transitional-' B e o w u lf returns home and
narrates h is story to the G eats
T h e young warrior-band, men brave in fame
Arrived then at the water; they wore their ring-woven
1890 Interlocked mail-coats. T h e coastguard perceived
T h e fighters departing as he had seen them come.
H e saluted the strangers, and not with insult,
From the head of the cliff; he rode up towards them;
H e told them they embarked as brilliant-armoured
Soldiers who would be welcome to the folk of the Weders.
T h en that boat was loaded on the shore,
T h e ring-prowed ship with garments of war,
W ith the horses and the jewels; the mast soared up
Over the riches from Hrothgar’s hoard.
1900 T o the man who had guarded the boat he gave
A gold-banded sword, that he thereafter
Could shine at mead-bench the more distinguished
B y that treasure, that heirloom. T h e ship moved off
Swirling through the main, left Denmark behind.
T hen to the mast a sea-robe, a sail
Was rope-rigged securely; ship-timber shuddered;
Wave-scudding wind gave there no hindering
T o the flood-buoyed voyager; it glided forward
A foam-throated seafarer on the ocean’s swell,
■ 910 Its strong prow probing the roaring streams,
T ill they were able to see the cliffs of Geatland,
T h e promontories of home; the vessel drove
Breeze-blown in and grounded on the beach.
Quickly was the harbour-guard ready at the water,
He who for long had searched the horizon
Yearning by that sea for the beloved men;
T h e broadbreasted boat he made fast on the shore
With its anchor-ropes, lest pounding of breakers
Should thrust and drag the fine ship away.
1920 Th en he had the warriors’ treasure taken up,
T h e ornaments, the beaten gold; he had not far to go
From there to the presence of the jewel-generous
Hygelac, Hrethel’s son, to the home where he lives,
52
Him self and his retinue, beside the sea-rampart.
Magnificent was the building, the hall towering,
T h e king in his majesty, H ygd very young
T h e daughter of Haereth, but wise-minded, distinguished,
F o r the small succession of years she had witnessed
W ith in castle walls; nor was she ungenerous
Or too niggardly w ith gifts, with treasured possessions 193°
T o the people of the G eats.— T h a t strong folk-queen
T h ry th , now: desperately wicked, and by habit!
None of the heroes of the personal retinue
(But her lord and master!) dared the hazard
O f gazing openly w ith his eyes upon her,
F o r he saw in store for him fatal fetters
Human-hand-linked, and then soon after,
O nce he had been seized, the sharp-patterned sword
Appointed to make his judgement certain,
T o show death’s face. Unqueenly ways 1940
F o r a woman to follow, presuming on her beauty,
W hen a lady’s gentleness turns destroyer
O f a loved man’s life for pretended outrage!
B ut Hem m ing’s kinsman checkmated that:
M en at their ale would go on to tell
H ow she burdened her people with fewer evils,
Less malign dealing, after she had once
Been given, gold-brilliant, to the youthful champion,
T o the beloved prince— after she had voyaged
A t her father’s bidding across the sallow flood 1950
T o the hall of Offa; there now she lived
K now n for the good gifts made from her throng
T aking praiseworthy pleasure in created things,
K n it in noble love with a lord of warriors,
W ith the most excellent of all mankind,
O f the far-spread race, as his fame speaks,
From sea to sea; and Offa, a man
Eager in the spear-assault, was widely honoured
F o r liberalities as for war-abilities, and guarded with
wisdom
T h e country in his keeping. Eom er was his son i960
53
And a help to men, a kinsman of Hemming,
Grandson of Garm und, strong-armed in battles.
T h e warrior went then, his retinue with him,
Covering the beach-fields along by the sand,
Broad-stretching shoreland. T h e world-candle shone,
T h e south-darting sun. T h ey kept on walking,
T h e y hastened forward to where they knew
T h e protector of men, the killer of Ongentheow,
T h e young and excellent warrior ruler
■ 970 Distributed rings in his castle walls.
Beowulf’s coming was at once made known
T o Hygelac: the protector of fighters, of shieldsmen
Was arriving there alive in the midst of his courts,
Unscathed from the field, making for his house.
Quickly the interior of the hall was cleared
F or those foot-travellers at the king’s command.
T h e survivor of the conflict sat by him then,
Kinsman facing kinsman, and soon he saluted
His liege lord, his friend, in formal utterance,
1980 W ith forceful words. T h e daughter of Haereth
M oved with mead-cups through the hall-building,
She was good to the people, she handed to heroes
T h e fiery goblet. Hygelac began
Courteously to inquire of his companion there
In that hall of halls— curiosity consumed him—
W hat sort of adventures the Geats had had.
‘ How was your voyage, beloved Beowulf,
When you suddenly determined to seek in the distance
A strife beyond the salty breakers,
1990 A battle in H eorot? Ah, did you redeem
For Hrothgar, the prince, the illustrious, any part
O f his widely-known wretchedness! Anxiety for that
Vexed me with throbbings of care; the exploit
And my love of you clashed, I pled with you continually
T o make no attempt on that fiendish killer
B u t to let the Danes themselves determine
T h e Grendel struggle. T o God I give thanks
T h at m y eyes can see you returned unharmed!’
54
Beowulf spoke, Ecgtheow ’s son:
‘ Hygelac m y lord, the record is candid, 1000
T h e great encounter is in many minds,
W h at battle-occasion befell me and Grendel
W ithin that place where he had relentlessly
Persecuted the Danes w ith miseries, miseries,
W ith countless cruelties; I completely avenged it,
A n d there need be no boasting of that twilight agony
B y any of the earthly kin of G rendel,
W hichever of the hated race lives longest
In the chains of crime. Imm ediately I arrived
T o greet H rothgar there in the ring-hall »oio
T h e illustrious heir of Healfdene appointed me
A seat b y his own son, once he had learned
M y mind and purpose. T h e company rejoiced;
N ever have I seen under the arch of heaven
G reater happiness of men at their mead
Sittin g in hall. H ow the famous folk-queen
G uardian of their peace would move throughout the
room,
Encouraging the young men; to many making gift
O f a precious ring before she sat again!
And then the ale-flagon, brought before the retinue *020
T o the veterans in turn by Hrothgar’s daughter
(Whose name I learned from the hall-banqueters
W as Freawaru) as she proffered to the heroes
T h e studded treasure-cup! In her youth and gold
She is promised to the courteous son of Froda;
T h e lord of the Scyldings, the keeper of his kingdom
Has given his agreement, and considers it statesmanship
T h a t b y means of this lady the end of great blood-feuds
A n d struggles may be sealed. O n a nation’s defeat
H ow common is die rareness with which the thirsty spear aojo
Takes its hour of rest, for all quality in the bride!
— T h is now m ay offend the Heathobard prince
A n d all the aristocracy among that people,
W hen he walks with the woman into the hall:
Highborn Danes, the retinue entertained,
55
A n d flashing on them heirlooms of men of old,
H ard-edged spiral-patterned treasures of the H eatho-
bards—
Theirs while they had power to wield the weapons,
Before they fatally led to the shield-clash
2040 T h e ir dear companions and their own lives!
T h e n an old spearsman gazing on the hilt-rin g
W hile men are at their beer-drinking w ill recall it all to
mind,
Spear-death of the soldiers: his heart darkens:
A n d he begins in his unhappiness to probe the spirit
O f a boy, a fighter, with penetrating purpose,
T o stir up war-thoughts, uttering these words:
“ Y o u r eyes, m y friend— can they recognize the sword,
T h e priceless metal your father carried
W h en he w ent mask-helmeted into battle
2050 F o r his last battle— where the eager Scyldings
T h e Danes killed him and held the field
O nce W ith ergyld was dead, once the heroes had fallen ?
See now the son of one of the slayers,
H e enters the hall exulting in these trappings,
H e boasts of the slaughter, and he carries the treasure
W h ich you and no other should properly possess.”
— So time and again he reminds him. and incites him
W ith phrases of bitterness, till the day arrives
W h en this woman's retainer for his father’s deeds
2060 Finds blood-drenched sleep, bereft of breath
B y the biting sword-blade; and from there the other
Escapes w ith his life, the land is familiar to him.
T h e n on both sides the oaths men swore
L ie violated, and soon fierce hates
A re driving through Ingeld, and in the drifts of care
Colder are the affections he shows towards his wife.
T herefore I think little of this Heathobard am ity,
I see scant alliance that is Danish security,
Friendship w ith solidarity.
N o w let me go on
2070 W ith the G rendel story, that you, O treasure-giver,
56
M ay rest in the truth of what afterwards happened
In heroic grapplingmatch. Once heaven’s jewel
Had swept over the fields, the spirit of wrath
Dusk’s fiend, frightful, was moved to visit us
Where we untroubled were guarding the hall.
This was the battle-meeting that struck down Hondscio
Death-evil-fated; he harnessed fightingman
Was the first to fall; he good retainer
In the jaws of Grendel encountered his death-dealer,
T h e beloved man’s body its utter devourer. 2080
Y et none the sooner did the crimson-toothed killer
In the vision of crimes intend to abscond
Empty-handed from the hall of gold;
But with that renowned strength made test of me,
M e his fist flew to seize. His gauntlet dangled
Tremendous, marvellous, fixed by strange clasps:
M asterly all its making and adornment—
W ith skins of a dragon and a demon’s sleights.
H e would have me in it, guiltless as I was,
T h e reckless antagonist wanted me there, 2090
One among many; it was not to be,
A fter I in my anger stood up to face him.
Too long to tell how I gave requital
T o the people’s persecutor for every wickedness!—
There, O my prince, I made my acts
An honour to your folk. He fled, he escaped,
F or a brief space tasted life’s joys,
B u t his right hand he left behind
In Heorot hall, and from there in humiliation
And misery of mind to the lake-floor he fell. *'°°
K ingly recompense the Scylding king granted me
F o r encounter and kill, in beaten gold,
Rare things, prized things, when morning came
And we took our seats at the banquet-place.
There we had storytelling, there we had music;
T h e old Scylding, time-schooled, told over the past;
Now the hero of battles awoke the harp’s sweetness,
Plucked the happy strings; now sang a poem
57
Heartbreaking and true; and the great-spirited king
2110 Recited after tradition a narrative of marvels;
A n d then again the warrior in chains of old age
W ould begin to bewail his youth and his war-strength—
His breast was vexed w ithin him, While the crowding
M emories came to him from so m any winters.
W e thus in the hall the whole day long
T o o k our pleasure, till night once more
Came down upon men. Soon Grendel’s mother
Began then to prepare her sorrow’s revenge,
M ad e a journey w ith grief; W eders’ w arring, death
2120 H ad seized her son. T h e fiendish woman
To o k toll for her child, she boldly destroyed
A man, Aeschere: wise, an old counsellor:
His living days fled from him there.
N or could the Danes, when morning came,
G iv e him up as he lay in death
T o be consumed by fire, load some pyre
W ith the beloved man; she carried off the body
In her monstrous embrace beneath the mountain-torrent.
T h a t to H rothgar was the sharpest of the afflictions
2130 T h e leader of the folk had for long suffered.
N o w the troubled prince implored me b y your life
T o make good m y nobility in the w ater-tum ult,
T o venture out m y flesh, to grasp glory;
And vowed me m y reward. I then discovered
In that surging pool so m any have heard of,
T h e fierce and terrifying guardian of the abyss.
W e fought there, hand-to-hand, for a space;
T h e lake seethed blood, when in that arena
I slashed off the head of G rendel’s mother
2140 W ith m y great sword-blade; I took as b y a miracle
M y life away from the place— m y time
H adn’ t come; and the son of Healfdene, protector
O f fightingmen, again gave me countless treasures.
So the national king followed best custom;
I by no means missed those rewards,
T h e recompense of strength, but Healfdene’s son
58
Offered me treasures to m y own desire
W h ich m y hands, O Icing of men, shall bring you,
G lad ly present to you. Still must every favour
L ie in your giving; it is few, it is few 2150
I have close of kin, Hygelac, except you.’
T h e n he had brought in the great flag, the boar-flag,
T h e battle-riding helm et, the silver-grey chain-mail
A n d the princely war-sword, and made this speech:
‘ Hrothgar gave this armour to me,
T h e king in his wisdom, asking expressly
I should speak to you first about its history;
H e told me that for long it had been in the hands
O f Heorogar the ruler and man of the Scyldings;
N o sooner for that would he give his son, 2160
Spirited Heoroweard, friends though they were,
T h e coat of mail. Make full use of all!’
T h e story tells that four bay horses
W ere quickly brought in as the trappings had been;
He bestowed them both as a gift upon him,
Horses and treasures— as a kinsman should,
Shunning secret and crafty web-weaving
O f spite for another, the setting of death-traps
F o r a comrade in arms. T o the hardened fighter,
T o Hygelac his nephew was strongly loyal, *17®
An d each of them strove to give jo y to the other.
W e are told he presented to H ygd the torque,
T h e marvellous jewel-work he received from Wealhtheow
Daughter of the prince— and also three horses
Shining-saddled and lithe; after she had taken
T h a t necklace, what brilliance lay royal on her breast!
T h e son of Ecgtheow showed thus his valour,
A man famed in battles and in good deeds,
His acts sought glory; wine-flushed hearth-comrades
Took no death from him; nothing barbarous in his heart, 218c
B ut he guarded, war-bold, with the greatest wisdom
O f the race of man, that liberal favour
W hich G od had given him. And for long he was scorned!—
W hen the sons of the Geats saw little in him,
59
A n d the lord of the Weders was loath to grant him
M an y possessions at the mead-feast-bench;
It was confidently assumed he was lazy, was dull,
A prince of no spirit. T im e brought reversal
T o the illustrious man of all he had suffered!
2190 — T h e protector of men, war-renowned king
Comm anded H rethel’s heirloom to be fetched then
Ornate with gold; no better treasure
G iv in g sw ord’s service did the G eats then possess;
He laid it down on B eowulf’s lap,
A n d gave him the value of seven thousand—
Acres and capital and castle. F o r the two of them
T h a t country held inherited land,
Hom e, ancestral earth, he of higher rank
O wning in particular a spacious kingdom.
[220 0 -318 2] Beowulf and the Dragon
2200 Afterwards it happened, in days nearer ours
A n d tumults of war, when Hygelac lay dead
And battle-sword-blades under the shield-thatch
B rought death to Heardred attacked b y the Scylfings,
Dangerous warriors, in the midst of his heroes
T h e nephew of Hereric violently assailed—
It happened then that the far-spread realm
Cam e in turn into the hands of Beowulf.
F o r fifty winters he held good rule—
T h e king was then advanced in the years’ wisdom,
2210 O ld the land’s guardian— , till a creature, a dragon
Began to tyrannize the black hours of night,
O ne that kept a treasure-hoard, a towering stone burial-
mound
O n the upland moor, beneath it a path
Unfam iliar to men. T h a t place was entered
B y some soul or other who penetrated far in
T ow ard s the pagan hoard; his hand seized a treasure
Shimmering with jewels; the dragon then avenged it,
Since he lying sleeping had suffered deceit
60
B y stealth of a thief; this the people learned,
T h e neighbouring clan: his anger had begun. 2110
N o t for his own desire, not of his own accord
Did he who sharp-vexed him force the dragon’s hoard,
Only in desperate need had some nameless slave
O f the children of men fled strokes and oppression,
L o st house and home, and made his w ay in there,
A man guilt-conscious. A t once * [ ..........................................
..............................................] horror seized the stranger;
Nevertheless the wretched [ ........................................................
..............................................], when that panic gripped him, *230
T h e jewelled vessel. M an y such riches
L a y there age-old in the vaulted earth,
L e ft since long ago some man unknown,
Revolving things in his mind, had hidden them in that
place,
Testam ent and abundance of a princely race,
Treasures beyond price. A ll these death swept,
Years gone, away; and one man remained
From the host of the people, the last wanderer there,
A watchman grieving over friends, to augur
Fo r his own life the same: brief use, brief love **40
O f long-prized wealth. T h e barrow of the dead
Stood ready on the plain near the breaking sea,
N ew -m ade on the headland, built hard of access;
Into its interior the jewel-guardian took
T h a t cherishable mass of the treasures of men,
Of the beaten gold, and uttered these words:
‘ N o w earth hold fast, since heroes have failed to,
T h e riches of the race! Was it not from you
T h a t good men once won it? Battle-death, evil
M o rtal and terrible has taken every man
O f this folk of mine that has left life and time,
T h a t has gazed its last on feast and gladness.
N o one I have to be sword-bearer or burnisher
O f the beaten-gold goblet, the dearly-loved drinking-cup:
T h a t chivalry has slipped away. Hard helmet must shed
61
Its flashing furnishing, its plating of gold;
Burnishers sleep who should sheen the battle-mask;
So too the mail-coat that has met the biting
O f iron war-blades above clashed shields
2260 Crum bles after its wearer; nor cat\ this chain-armour
Follow the fight’s commander into far-off regions
A t the heroes’ side. T h e re is no harp-pleasure
An d no happy minstrelsy, there is no good hawk
T o swoop through the hall, there is no swift horse
W ith hoofbeats in the courtyard. H atred and death
H ave driven out on their voyage the hosts of the living!’
So one sad-minded spoke out the misery
H e felt for all, moving unconsoled
Restless day and night, till the tidewater of death
2270 Rose touching his heart. T h e treasury of delight
W as found lying open by that fiend w hich from of old
Has gone flaming through the gloaming towards mounds
of the dead,
Dragon-fiend, swooper sleek-skinned b y night
In his sheath of fire, a desperate fear
T o region and folk. His it is to search
F o r the ground-held hoard where he guards agelong
T h e gold of pagans in profitless ward.
F o r three hundred years this scourge of the people
K ept w atch within the earth over the titan-hewn
2280 House of treasures, till a certain man
Brought rage into his mind; the beaten-gold goblet
He took back to his overlord, begging reconciliation
A t his master’s hands. So the treasury was exposed,
T h e ring-hoard plundered, and pardon granted
T o the man in his wretchedness; and for the first time
His lord gazed over that old human handiwork.
W hen the reptile roused himself, fresh strife was born.
H e snuffed along the rock (iron-heart!), saw then
T h e footprint of his enemy, where he had stepped for
ward
2290 In his unseen prowling too near the dragon’s head.
— As the undoomed man who is still upheld
B y the grace of G od may with ease survive
Banishment and hardship! Anxiously the treasure-guarder
Examined the ground to discover the man
W ho had used his sleep for so deliberately vexing him;
He circled and circled in his flames, savage,
A il round the outside of the mound; not a soul
T h e re in the wilderness— but he saw war, rejoiced,
Rejoiced to have battle-action; and he would turn within,
Seeking the fine cup in the cave; he quickly 2300
Found that some man had laid his hands
On the gold, on kings’ wealth. T h e guardian of the treasure
W aited impatiently for twilight to fall;
T h e keeper of the cave then found his rage,
His hateful purpose to have the price in Are
O f the precious drinking-cup. N o w departed day
Filled the reptile’s desire; he was able no longer
T o wait on the wall, but made off blazing
In flame’s panoply. T errible was that beginning
T o the people of the country as soon enough it became 2310
T o their own treasure-giver a cruel end.
T h e visitant began then to belch glowing flakes,
T o burn the fair courts; the glare of fire
Struck horror to men; nothing living would escape
If the persecutor flying in the clouds had his will.
T h e serpent’s attack was seen far and wide,
Both at hand and by rumour the enemy’s malicework,
H ow the lawless w ar-bringer hated and humiliated
T h e folk of the G eats. H e sped back to the hoard,
T o his great hidden hall before the light of day. 2320
H e had lapped the inhabitants of the land in fire,
In flame, in blaze; he put faith in his cave,
In his war-cunning and his cave-wall: but his trust failed
him.
Beowulf then was quickly told
T h e truth about the terror, how his own homestead
T h e best of buildings, the G eats’ royal throne
W as dissolving in waves of flame. Heartbreak
It was to the good warrior, greatest of sorrows;
63
His wisdom suspected that against ancient law
2330 H e had sharply roused the w rath of G od ,
O f the everlasting L o rd ; within his breast
Such dark thoughts were surging as he had never known.
T h e fortress of the people, the cou ntry’s bulwark,
T h e sea-bound land had been visited and ravaged
B y the flames of the firedrake; the warlike king
T h e prince of the W eders found him his punishment.
N ow the lord of men, protector of warriors
Comm anded to be made for him a marvellous battle-
shield
Entirely of iron; he clearly perceived
2340 T h a t wood of the forest, the limewood buckler
W ould fail him in fire. T h e man proved of old
W as pressing to the end of his life in the world,
O f his lease of days, and the serpent w ith him
F o r all his ages of guarding the hoard-riches.
T h e prince, the ring-giver scorned then to attack
T h e far-winging creature w ith a troop of men,
W ith an armed host; fear was absent
F o r himself in that contest, nor did he rate high
T h e reptile’s w ar-ability, his force and his fierceness,
2330 Since he often before, hazarding hardship,
Had survived fights, battle-clashes, after he had swept
H rothgar’s hall clear, a man blessed w ith trium ph,
A n d crushed in his w ar-grasp the kin of G rendel
O f hated descent.
— T h a t was not the least
O f hand-to-hand encounters w here H ygelac was killed,
W hen the king of the G eats, the folk-prince cherished
Quenched the thirst of swords in Friesland,
T h e son of Hrethel, struck down by war-blade
In flurries of the fight. From there came Beowulf,
*360 H e took to the sea, swam b y his own strength,
Shouldering alone thirty outfits
O f war-equipm ent on his w ay to the w ater.
T h e H etw are had no need to exult in that fray
Fought out on foot when they carried forward
6+
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Beowulf A Verse Translation into Modern English by Edwin Morgan
This reprint of Morgan's popular and well-respected 1952 modern English translation of the Anglo-Saxon epic captures a taut expression of the poem's themes of danger, voyaging, displacement, loyalty, and loss. Morgan provides a fluid, modern voice from this medieval masterwork while retaining a clear authenticity, making it highly accessible to the contemporary reader.
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