by Beowulf
“Remember what time at the mead we talked,
when on the benches our boasts we made,
heroes in hall, of the hard encounter:
now may be kenned whose courage avails!
I will my kinship make clear to all,
that I was in Mercia of mighty race.
My agéd father was Ealhelm named. . . .
None of the lords of my land shall taunt me
I was fain from this field to flee away,
my life to save now my lord lies dead,
all hewn in combat, — my cruelest grief:
for he was my kinsman and captain both.”
Offa exhorted in the same vein; and then —
Leofsunu spake and lifted his shield: —
“This is my hest that hence I flee not
a footbreadth’s space, but will further go
to revenge in fight my friend-and-lord.
Nor need at Sturmere steadfast thanes
jeer and taunt that I journeyed home,
when my liege had fallen, a lordless man.”
A valuable survival of this taunting of men who broke the oath of loyalty is the cry of the sworn-brother in Bewick and Graham: —
In every town that I ride through,
They’ll say— “There rides a brotherless man!”
That is, there is one who has done to death his sworn-brother.
With these speeches of the Maldon warriors and of Wiglaf one may compare the awkward but effective prose which reports the answer of Cynewulf’s thanes to the conquering band of Cyneheard. They resist all bribes and entreaties to quit their dead master and king, and fall beside him. The account is perhaps based on an old lay. — See Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for the year 755.
5 Sc. “than to bide safely here,” — a common figure of incomplete comparison.
6 Unusually deliberate understatement, indicating the excess of shame and disgrace.
7 Custom, tradition, — one of the boni mores which, Tacitus says, counts for so much more than law.
8 Wiglaf’s wooden shield.
9 Gering would translate “kinsman of the nail,” as both are made of iron. — What is said here of Beowulf’s excessive strength, like the former mention of his early slackness, is a legendary trait of Offa the elder, the Uffo of Saxo Grammaticus. This excess of strength is a favorite trait in certain lines of romance, runs into exaggeration, and lends itself to burlesque. In Hugh Spencer’s Feats in France, a poor popular ballad, the hero cannot tilt with any one French lance, his strength smashing it in his hand; and he is accommodated only when a dozen lances are bound into one.
XXXVII
’Twas now, men say, in his sovran’s need
2695 that the earl made known his noble strain,
craft and keenness and courage enduring.
Heedless of harm,1 though his hand was burned,
hardy-hearted, he helped his kinsman.
A little lower2 the loathsome beast
2700 he smote with sword; his steel drove in
bright and burnished; that blaze began
to lose and lessen. At last the king
wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,
a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,3
2705 and the Weders’-helm smote that worm asunder,
felled the foe, flung forth its life.4
So had they killed it, kinsmen both,
athelings twain: thus an earl should be
in danger’s day! — Of deeds of valor
2710 this conqueror’s-hour of the king was last,
of his work in the world. The wound began,
which that dragon-of-earth had erst inflicted,
to swell and smart; and soon he found
in his breast was boiling, baleful and deep,
2715 pain of poison. The prince walked on,
wise in his thought, to the wall of rock;
then sat, and stared at the structure of giants,
where arch of stone and steadfast column
upheld forever that hall in earth.
2720 Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless
lave with water his winsome lord,
the king and conqueror covered with blood,
with struggle spent, and unspan his helmet.
Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt,
2725 his mortal wound; full well he knew
his portion now was past and gone
of earthly bliss, and all had fled
of his file of days, and death was near:
“I would fain bestow on son of mine
2730 this gear of war, were given me now
that any heir should after me come
of my proper blood. This people I ruled
fifty winters. No folk-king was there,
none at all, of the neighboring clans
2735 who war would wage me with ‘warriors’-friends’5
and threat me with horrors. At home I bided
what fate might come, and I cared for mine own;
feuds I sought not, nor falsely swore
ever on oath. For all these things,
2740 though fatally wounded, fain am I!6
From the Ruler-of-Man no wrath shall seize me,
when life from my frame must flee away,
for killing of kinsmen! Now quickly go
and gaze on that hoard ‘neath the hoary rock,
2745 Wiglaf loved, now the worm lies low,
sleeps, heart-sore, of his spoil bereaved.
And fare in haste. I would fain behold
the gorgeous heirlooms, golden store,
have joy in the jewels and gems, lay down
2750 softlier for sight of this splendid hoard
my life and the lordship I long have held.”
Footnotes
1 Literally, “heeded not head,” — either his own (“heedless of head and limbs” translates Gering), or else the dragon’s: “nor feared the flame from the beast’s jaws,” — which is less likely.
2 As in other fights with a dragon, the monster is killed by a blow underneath its body where no scales protect it. Saxo’s Frotho, succeed- ing to a depleted treasury, is told by a “native” about a dragon (serpens) who guards a mount (montis possessor) full of treasure. Its poison is deadly. Frotho must not seek to pierce its scales, but “there is a place under its belly” where his sword can thrust and kill. — Saxo, Bk. II (Holder, ). Much the same is told of another king who slays the serpent that guards an “underground room.” Bk. VI (Holder, ).
3 In the ballads this useful dagger or short sword is often a “wee penknife that hangs low down by the gare”; but the wee penknife now and then is described as “three-quarters [of a yard] long.”
4 As in all the adventures described by our poet, the actual climax and decisive part of the fight is told in briefest fashion.
5 That is, swords. See v. 1810, above. “Friend-of-war” would be a more exact translation of the kenning.
6 “With a joyful spirit, I Sir Richard Grenville, die.” “I am no sinner,” says Beowulf, “and die a glad man.” This mood of the happy warrior in death has had less clerical correction than occurred in a similar situation in The Fight at Maldon. Byrhtnoth, dying on the field, looks up to heaven and says: —
“I praise and thank thee, Prince of Nations,
for all the bliss this earth has brought me!
Now, Merciful Maker, is most my need
that thou good speed to my spirit give,
and let my soul to thee safely come,
pass in peace to thy power and keeping,
Prince of Angels! I pray thee well
that it get no harm from hell’s destroyers.”
For the unmixed note of exultation we turn to the pagan Norsemen.
XXXVIII
I have heard that swiftly the son of Weohstan
at wish and word of his wounded king, —
war-sick warrior, — woven mail-coat,
2755 battle
-sark, bore ‘neath the barrow’s roof.1
Then the clansman keen, of conquest proud,
passing the seat,2 saw store of jewels
and glistening gold the ground along;
by the wall were marvels, and many a vessel
2760 in the den of the dragon, the dawn-flier old:
unburnished bowls of bygone men
reft of richness; rusty helms
of the olden age; and arm-rings many
wondrously woven. — Such wealth of gold,
2765 booty from barrow, can burden with pride
each human wight: let him hide it who will! —
His glance too fell on a gold-wove banner
high o’er the hoard, of handiwork noblest,
brilliantly broidered; so bright its gleam,
2770 all the earth-floor he easily saw
and viewed all these vessels. No vestige now
was seen of the serpent: the sword had ta’en him.
Then, I heard, the hill of its hoard was reft,
old work of giants, by one alone;
2775 he burdened his bosom with beakers and plate
at his own good will, and the ensign took,
brightest of beacons. — The blade of his lord
— its edge was iron3 — had injured deep
one that guarded the golden hoard
2780 many a year and its murder-fire
spread hot round the barrow in horror-billows
at midnight hour, till it met its doom.
Hasted the herald, the hoard so spurred him
his track to retrace; he was troubled by doubt,
2785 high-souled hero, if haply he’d find
alive, where he left him, the lord of Weders,
weakening fast by the wall of the cave.
So he carried the load. His lord and king
he found all bleeding, famous chief,
2790 at the lapse of life. The liegeman again
plashed him with water, till point of word
broke through the breast-hoard. Beowulf spake,
sage and sad, as he stared at the gold: —
“For the gold and treasure, to God my thanks,
2795 to the Wielder-of-Wonders, with words I say,
for what I behold, to Heaven’s Lord,
for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk
or ever the day of my death be run!
Now I’ve bartered here for booty of treasure
2800 the last of my life, so look ye well
to the needs of my land! No longer I tarry.
A barrow bid ye the battle-famed raise
for my ashes. ‘Twill shine by the shore of the flood,
to folk of mine memorial fair
2805 on Hronës Headland high uplifted,
that ocean-wanderers oft may hail
Beowulf’s Barrow, as back from far4
they drive their keels o’er the darkling wave.”
From his neck he unclasped the collar of gold,
2810 valorous king, to his vassal gave it
with bright-gold helmet, breastplate, and ring,
to the youthful thane: bade him use them in joy.
“Thou art end and remnant of all our race,
the Wægmunding name. For Wyrd hath swept them,
2815 all my line, to the land of doom,
earls in their glory: I after them go.”
This word was the last which the wise old man
harbored in heart ere hot death-waves
of balefire he chose. From his bosom fled
2820 his soul to seek the saints’ reward.5
Footnotes
1 It is a common feature of Anglo-Saxon poetical style that the movements of prominent persons are described in this way. So v. 405, “Beowulf spake, — on him the breastplate glittered,” etc. Hence, instead of the word “to go,” the poet takes phrases like “bore his armor,” “bore sword and shield.” In translations such as “went protected by his armor” (Gering), the stylistic feature is lost.
2 Where Beowulf lay.
3 The formula doubtless had come down from days when, as Tacitus says, metals were rare among the Germans and iron had to be imported. The whole passage is a variant of vv. 2771 (b) f. Wiglaf took all this treasure without fear of interruption, for the warden of it was killed.
4 Besides the Germanic Yngwar, who was buried by the sea, there are famous classical cases. Achilles had his tomb “high on a jutting headland over wide Hellespont, that it might be seen from far off the sea by men that now are and by those that shall be hereafter.” So the Odyssey, in Butcher and Lang’s translation of the last book. In Book XI, Elpenor asks for such a tomb. According to Vergil, Æn. VI, 232, Misenus was buried by Æneas on a huge mound on a cliff by the sea.
5 A Christian term,— “the splendid state of the redeemed, of the martyrs,” — heaven.
XXXIX
It was heavy hap for that hero young
on his lord beloved to look and find him
lying on earth with life at end,
sorrowful sight. But the slayer too,
2825 awful earth-dragon, empty of breath,
lay felled in fight, nor, fain of its treasure,
could the writhing monster rule it more.
For edges of iron had ended its days,
hard and battle-sharp, hammers’ leaving;1
2830 and that flier-afar had fallen to ground
hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near,
no longer lusty aloft to whirl
at midnight, making its merriment seen,
proud of its prizes: prone it sank
2835 by the handiwork of the hero-king.
Forsooth among folk but few2 achieve,
— though sturdy and strong, as stories tell me,
and never so daring in deed of valor, —
the perilous breath of a poison-foe
2840 to brave, and to rush on the ring-hoard hall,
whenever his watch the warden keeps
bold in the barrow. Beowulf paid
the price of death for that precious hoard;
and each of the foes had found the end
2845 of this fleeting life.
Befell erelong
that the laggards in war the wood had left,
trothbreakers, cowards,3 ten together,
fearing before to flourish a spear
in the sore distress of their sovran lord.
2580 Now in their shame their shields they carried,
armor of fight, where the old man lay;
and they gazed on Wiglaf. Wearied he sat
at his sovran’s shoulder, shieldsman good,
to wake him with water.4 Nowise it availed.
2855 Though well he wished it, in world no more
could he barrier life for that leader-of-battles
nor baffle the will of all-wielding God.
Doom of the Lord was law o’er the deeds
of every man, as it is to-day.
2860 Grim was the answer, easy to get,
from the youth for those that had yielded to fear!
Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan, —
mournful he looked on those men unloved: —
“Who sooth will speak, can say indeed
2865 that the ruler who gave you golden rings
and the harness of war in which ye stand
— for he at ale-bench often-times
bestowed on hall-folk helm and breastplate,
lord to liegemen, the likeliest gear
2870 which near or far he could find to give, —
threw away and wasted these weeds of battle,
on men who failed when the foemen came!
Not at all could the king of his comrades-in-arms
venture to vaunt, though the Victory-Wielder,
2875 God, gave him grace that he got revenge
sole with his sword in stress and need.
To rescue his life, ’twas little that I
/> could serve him in struggle; yet shift I made
(hopeless it seemed) to help my kinsman.
2880 Its strength ever waned, when with weapon I struck
that fatal foe, and the fire less strongly
flowed from its head. — Too few the heroes
in throe of contest that thronged to our king!
Now gift of treasure and girding of sword,
2885 joy of the house and home-delight
shall fail your folk; his freehold-land
every clansman within your kin
shall lose and leave, when lords highborn
hear afar of that flight of yours,
2890 a fameless deed. Yea, death is better
for liegemen all than a life of shame!”
Footnotes
1 What had been left or made by the hammer; well-forged.
2 As usual, litotes for “none at all.”
3 In Maldon the antitype of cowardice and false thaneship is furnished by the three sons of Odda, — Godric, who mounts his lord’s own horse when the chieftain falls, and flies to the woods and the fastness, Godwine, and Godwig. They will not stay to fall about their lord’s body, faithful in death, as do the rest.
4 Trying to revive him. In the Anglo-Saxon Genesis, water “wakes” land into fertility.
XL
That battle-toil bade he at burg to announce,
at the fort on the cliff, where, full of sorrow,
all the morning earls had sat,
2895 daring shieldsmen, in doubt of twain:
would they wail as dead, or welcome home,
their lord belovéd? Little1 kept back
of the tidings new, but told them all,
the herald that up the headland rode. —
2900 “Now the willing-giver to Weder folk
in death-bed lies, the Lord of Geats
on the slaughter-bed sleeps by the serpent’s deed!
And beside him is stretched that slayer-of-men
with knife-wounds sick:2 no sword availed
2905 on the awesome thing in any wise
to work a wound. There Wiglaf sitteth,
Weohstan’s bairn, by Beowulf’s side,
