Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary, together with Sellic Spell

by J. R. R. Tolkien

  þá wæs sund liden, eoletes æt ende (reading of the manuscript)

  A ‘summing-up’ remark, or ‘concluder’ at the end of the journey. Though it begins in what we call the middle of a line, Þanon *224 (‘Thence’), following ende, is really at the head of the next ‘chapter’, or ‘sub-chapter’. The ‘concluder’, though its general purport is clear: ‘the boat had come to the end of its journey’, contains two difficulties: liden and eoletes.

  [For the unknown word eoletes he accepted the emendation eoledes, given the meaning ‘water-journey, voyage’. Of liden, the past participle of the verb líðan, he wrote as follows:]

  liden. The at first sight obvious translation: ‘then was the sea traversed’ seems a little weak and obvious even for a ‘concluder’, which is usually more weighty and pointed even if repetitive; and it meets with the difficulty that the verb líðan is elsewhere in Old English always intransitive (it is practically always used of faring by or journeying over water). I think that this objection is fairly strong, if not decisive.

  [He thought also that ‘a pictorial objective ending mentioning the boat with which the passage began (flota *210) would be much better than a mere ‘passive’ statement – and more probable. His conclusion was to accept the suggestion of an unrecorded noun sundlida ‘seafarer, ship’ (comparing ýðlida of the same vessel, with ýð ‘wave’, *198, 161): ‘then the ship was at the end of its sea-journey’. But he accepted also a further emendation, to sundlidan (dative), as more idiomatic and nearer to the manuscript reading: ‘then for that ship the journey was at an end.’

  In the earliest text of his prose translation of the poem he translated the words þá wæs sund liden, eoletes æt ende ‘The waters were overpassed; they were at their sea-way’s end’. This he corrected later to ‘Then for that sailing-ship the voyage was at an end’. It will be seen that this is the rendering that he came to as he wrote his commentary. This was the wording in the typescript copy (‘C’); in this text my father crossed out voyage and replaced it with journey. This is therefore the translation given in this book.

  It may also be mentioned that in his article On Metre (referred to in the note to 171–86 above), in his Old English text of the passage he printed the words as þá wæs sundlidan and credited the emendation in a footnote.]

  184 their mail-shirts they shook; *226 syrcan hrysedon

  [This is another case where my father came to oppose his treatment of it in his translation as originally made, which read ‘their mail-shirts clashed’. In Klaeber’s edition the verb hryssan (past tense hrysedon) is glossed ‘shake, rattle’ and is regarded as being here (exceptionally) intransitive, and the phrase syrcan hrysedon as ‘asyndetic’, i.e. dropped into the larger sentence without conjunction. He wrote:]

  hrysedon is transitive: so always where elsewhere recorded. In any case the verb means ‘shake roughly’, not ‘rattle’, so that [the notion of an] asyndetic interpolation of syrcan hrysedon with syrcan as subject, sandwiched between two past tense plurals of which the subject is the Geats, is both unnecessary and improbable. The men must have done the shaking. They had probably not worn their hauberks while sailing (they were no doubt part of the beorhte frætwe (*214, 174 ‘their bright harness’) that they carried aboard and put in the hold), and now unrolled them and shook them out before putting them on at once (being now in an alien land). In any case, and certainly if they had worn the mail-shirts, they would need some attention after a sea-passage in an open boat, though this one is represented as taking less than two days.

  189–90 anxiety smote him; *232 hine fyrwyt bræc

  fyrwyt (better spelt firwit) is usually glossed ‘curiosity, inquisitiveness’, which makes the frequency of the expression hine firwit bræc sound very strange (Klaeber says ‘One would like to know the origin of this quaint expression’. Not too difficult to perceive!) But the phrase was no doubt coined for special urgent occasions; while ‘curiosity’ or ‘inquisitiveness’, which now usually imply an attitude which may be quite frivolous, is not a good gloss. firwit often approaches ‘care, solicitude, anxiety’. It is an emotion of one seeing or hearing anything that puts one on the alert, and requires immediate enquiry or action, or of one anxiously awaiting very important news. (The ‘passive’ treatment of the person, and the ‘active’ of the emotion, is in keeping with the general depicting of emotion in Old English.) So in *1985 hyne fyrwet bræc (1668–9 ‘eagerness pierced his heart’) refers to Hyglelac’s impatient desire to hear about Beowulf’s adventure; in *2784 the same phrase (2342 ‘Anxiety pierced his uplifted heart’) refers to the great anxiety of the man who had been into the dragon-den to know whether Beowulf was still alive to see the booty before he died.

  Here the coastguard suddenly sees a number of strange men mooring a ship and bringing out warlike equipment. He is seriously alarmed. ‘Anxiety deeply troubled him to learn’ is perhaps a fair rendering. He had means of raising an alarm if necessary. He had men near at hand (maguþegnas *293, ‘my young esquires’ 236). Though he fiercely brandished his spear, and spoke in hostile terms (cloaked in courteous expression) he could not alone have resisted the landing of fifteen men. He might, if his suspicions were justified, hope to escape to summon aid, since he was mounted. You need not picture him riding up to within easy spear-cast! His challenge was shouted in a high clear voice from a fair distance.

  202–3 no hall-servant is he in brave show of weapons; *249–50 nis þæt seldguma wæpnum geweorðad

  The compound seldguma occurs only here. The context shows that it means someone of inferior rank. So nis þæt seldguma etc. ‘that he is no ordinary man’ is a way of saying ‘he must be a man of high rank’. It is with this positive intention that wæpnum geweorðad (‘in brave show of weapons’) goes, and the guard does not mean (as the word order might now suggest) ‘This is no humble man just dressed up in good arms’. ‘Doubtless this is a man of rank, with his noble weapons’ is nearer to the sense.

  [Thus my father had rejected his translation ‘no [minion >] hall-servant is he in brave show of weapons’.]

  The difficulty is to explain seldguma. Clearly one would expect it to mean ‘a man with a seat in the hall’, that is one of the warriors usually in a king’s household, a variant of geselda: for which see *1984, where Beowulf is actually called sínne geseldan in relation to Hygelac (1668 ‘the companion at his side’). Seldguma would seem to be just what Beowulf is. Though a kinsman of the king he was young, not war-tried (though the hero of many adventures of youthful daring and strength), and not one of high rank in the court (one of the witan). The explanation is probably that we are underestimating the guard’s praise. At home Beowulf may have seemed just one of the geogoð, though a notable one; to a stranger with a fresh and seeing eye he looks a king’s son or a young chieftain. ‘This is not just one of the king’s knights, but his stature, fair countenance, and peerless mien, if I am not deceived, (show him to be a prince).’

  But the implication of this praise is partly hostile and suspicious: such a crew and leader are out on a big business of some kind. What is it?

  205 false spies; *253 léasscéaweras

  léasscéaweras: ‘lying-observers’, i.e. spies with treacherous intent. The guard is being hostile and as insolent as the situation allowed. It is to the use of such opprobrious words that the word hearm ‘insult’ refers in line *1892, when on their departure the guard greeted Beowulf and his companions as friends: nó hé mid hearme . . . gæstas grétte (1587–8 ‘not with unfriendly words . . . did he hail the guests’).

  213; *263 Ecgtheow

  Ecgtheow does not alliterate with Beowulf. It is notable that though Beowulf is quite plainly in part a non-historical fairy-tale character, he is by the author given a father and other close kin. There were clearly traditions about these names – especially about Ecgtheow (cf. 370 ff., *459 ff.) – which the author did not invent; his allusive references being certainly to things that (many of) his audience would know about. Cf. also the kinship with W�
�gláf son of Wíhstán of the Wægmundingas (see 2365–6, *2813–14).

  Ecg- names are common, but Ecgtheow is not found elsewhere (except in Old Norse Eggþér, and then only as glaðr Eggþér herdsman of the giants, who sat and played the harp on a mound); and is therefore hardly likely to be purely fictitious. There are two possibilities: (1) that while Ecgtheow and the Wægmundingas had their place in historical legendary tradition, our author intruded Beowulf into this family to give him the princely place that his treatment of the character required; (2) that there were traditions of a person ‘X’ in history who carried on or tried to carry on the Geatish kingdom against the Swedes after the ending (in Heardred) of the Hrædling dynasty; with this figure the folk-tale had been blended (for reasons not now discoverable) probably at a period before, even long before our author composed his poem.12

  The first of these seems very improbable. If traditions about, say, Ecgtheow and his feud and taking refuge at the Danish court (see 370–5) were still remembered unconnected with ‘Beowulf’, what would such an audience think of the procedure? And if we suppose that Ecgtheow was chosen because of his Danish connexion to make [plausible?] the acceptance of a Geat in the (not very friendly) court of Heorot, what of the Wægmundingas? Some of the things said about them are odd. Wiglaf, kinsman and last staunch companion of Beowulf, is called léod Scylfinga, *2603, ‘liege of the Scylfingas’, the Swedish dynasty;13 and we learn that his father Weohstan/Wihstan had been one of the knights of Onela the Swedish king and the actual slayer of Eanmund the rebellious nephew of Onela, whose brother Eadgils had taken refuge with Heardred of the Geats, and who (in revenge for Heardred’s death at Onela’s hands) was later supported by Beowulf and helped to kill Onela and become king of the Swedes.14 This seems just the sort of confused situation and the sort of family, with divided allegiance and possibly estates on both sides, out of which a man might come who was able to maintain a measure of Geatish independence after the end of their dynasty – at any rate during the reign of Eadgils. Since his precarious situation was short-lived he would be a figure about whom ‘legend’ might gather (in lieu of authentic genealogical lore), especially if this was helped by accidents of similarity: e.g. he was of obscure origin; he was large and strong, and uncouth – he may even have had a name or nickname referring to one of such tales.

  232–3 A man of keen wit . . . will discern the truth in both words and deeds; *287–9 sceal scearp scyldwiga gescád witan, worda ond worca

  sceal basically means ‘is bound (to do), has an obligation (to do).’ Hence its use as a future equivalent, as we can say ‘it’s bound to rain if I don’t take an umbrella’. So here it is not, I think, an expression of a duty or necessity arising from office or function, but ‘gnomic’. The exchange of what we should call ‘platitudes’, received opinions about the way things go in the world, was more honoured in heroic circles than in (say) modern academic ones. (The ultimate ‘gnome’ is propounded at the end of Beowulf’s address to Hrothgar: Gǽð á wyrd swá hío scel! *455, ‘Fate goeth ever as she must’ 367.) Had the coast-guard been expressing an opinion on a particular situation he would have said: ‘a man in my position has to keep his wits about him and recognize a liar when he meets him.’ What he does say, in effect, is: ‘a man of discernment will naturally be able to recognize an honest man’ – that he is a man of discernment (or he would not be in his position) is understood.

  We use will (not shall) in such ‘general’ statements if we use an auxiliary at all. Thus the ‘gnome’ draca sceal on hlǽwe is not ‘a dragon shall be in a grave-mound’, which in our usage would imply the wish or purpose of ‘I’ the speaker, but ‘a dragon will be found in a grave-mound’, because such is its nature, or ‘dragons are found in graves’. Translate therefore: ‘A man of acumen, who considers things properly, will naturally show discernment in judging words and deeds.’

  246–8; *303–6

  [‘It would take far too long,’ my father said, ‘to discuss this matter, and criticize the many editorial variations’; but he would ‘give you in brief my view dogmatically.’ I give it here with some slight reduction, and begin with the passage in the form of the unemended manuscript and in the translation.

  Eoforlíc scionon

  ofer hléorberan gehroden golde,

  305 fáh ond fýrheard, ferhwearde héold

  gúþmód grummon. Guman ónetton . . .

  246 Figures of the boar shone above cheek-guards, adorned with gold, glittering, fire-tempered; fierce and challenging war-mask kept guard over life. The men hastened . . .]

  This is a well-known crux of translation and text since at least gúþmód grummon must be corrupt. The passage puzzled the scribe, either because it was already corrupted or in places hard to read, or because he could not make much sense out of it, or for both reasons combined. One of the signs of this is the retention of a number of ‘dialectal’, i.e. not West Saxon forms, which would probably have been altered if the scribe had felt more confidence: scionon, beran for bergan (W.S. beorgan); ferh for feorh.

  The principal difficulty is in gúþmód grummon, and here my solution is not (I think) found elsewhere. First of all, I think the whole passage is an example of the ‘representative singular’, frequently used in description. For example, soldiers march by (each accoutred more or less alike) – helmet shines, crest tosses, spear glitters, hauberk clinks. But this passage is even more selective: only a helmet is described: probably the most notable and fearsome item (to an onlooker) of the array of a fully armed Northern warrior of the heroic age. (A similar method is used in 261–2, *321–3, where the hauberk is selected.) The seemingly awkward change in verbal numbers scionon – héold is due to a change in syntactic subject, not in visual object: only one helmet is described, but each had more than one eoforlíc, a ‘boar-likeness’, representative of the boar as a symbol of ferocity, also in heathen times of religious or magical import. The representation of a boar as a helm-crest is an undoubted archaeological fact, but not more than one such per helmet.

  Nonetheless, a single helmet could be said to have more than one ‘boar-likeness’. This is actually said of Beowulf’s helmet, which is described (1211–12, *1453) as being ‘set (plated) with swínlícum [dative plural]’ by the smith who made it. The eoforlíc are therefore not ‘crests’ but representations of boars, of men with boar-heads or tusked masks, placed on a decorative band just above the cheek-guards [reading hléorberga for hléorberan] as is actually said. Then what is the subject of héold? A new singular subject, but also a part of the helmet, related to the eoforlíc is required. It cannot be found in line *305; therefore it must be concealed in the corrupt gúþmód grummon. I therefore propose to read gúþmód gríma. I suppose a process of corruption not necessarily all accomplished in one stage, by which gríma was assimilated (by a process often exemplified in inattentive corruption) to gruman before guman (*306). Since this meant nothing it was later turned into the real word grummon ‘(they) roared or raged’ which might seem to a puzzled scribe vaguely to fit the context, but in fact does not.

  The gríma was a mask or vizor (partly) covering the face. That the helmets of this company had such gríman is assured, since Wulfgar at the door of Heorot says so: grímhelmas *334, heregríman *396; ‘your masked helms’ 271, 320. That these were or might be of fierce or horrifying shape, designed (like more primitive war-paint) to frighten off assailants (and so act as life-guards) is shown by the frequent use of gríma for a bogey, or terrifying apparition.

  It is true that gúþmód gríma ‘the war-spirited mask’ would appear to require transfer of an epithet proper to a warrior to his armour. This is not a grave difficulty: arms can be described as fús or fúslíc, that is ‘eager to advance, eager for battle’. But the gríma or mask probably more or less represented a face, human or animal, and gúþmód was the expression of this face.

  288–496; *356–610 The speeches at court

  With these speeches we make further and fuller acquaintance with ‘courte
sy’ of word and bearing as conceived by the poet, modelled doubtless on the best contemporary manners. Wulfgar was not a ‘servant’, but an officer of the court. It was his duty to assess the merit of strangers at the door and to advise whether they should be admitted.

  290–1 well he knew the customs of courtly men; *359 cúþe hé duguðe þéaw

  Duguð is properly an abstract noun related to dugan ‘be of worth, service’, etc.; so its basic sense is ‘worth, usefulness, value’. This sense it retained; but it also developed special applications. No doubt partly assisted by the rhyme with iugoþ, geogoþ ‘youth’, it became used for the age when a man was of most service, his prime. Then naturally it could be used (like iugoþ) for the body of all men, or all the men in a given place, who had duguþ. It thus can often mean ‘host of (fully-grown and war-tried) men’. This is always its sense in dugoþ ond iugoþ. But it is often its sense when it stands alone; then it often means ‘host (of warriors), splendid host’. It is not often possible to determine whether the sense in a given passage is most closely allied to this branch ‘glorious host’, or to the older sense ‘worth, value, excellence’.

  So it is in duguþe þéaw. This may be ‘the manners of manly virtue, of fitness and worth’, or ‘the manners of the duguþ, the knights and well-trained men of the court’. In any case ‘the correct manners for a knight’ is meant.

  When at last the stage is set, and the two main ‘heroic’ characters at last come together, Hrothgar and Beowulf, we have to consider more carefully the various threads out of which this poem is woven.