Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

by Beowulf

That nor northward nor southward beside the twin sea-floods,

  Over all the huge earth’s face now never another,

  Never under the heaven’s breadth, was there a better, 860

  Nor of wielders of war-shields a worthier of kingship;

  But neither their friendly lord blam’d they one whit,

  Hrothgar the glad, for good of kings was he.

  There whiles the warriors far-famed let leap

  Their fair fallow horses and fare into flyting

  Where unto them the earth-ways for fair-fashion’d seemed,

  Through their choiceness well kenned; and whiles a king’s thane,

  A warrior vaunt-laden, of lays grown bemindful,

  E’en he who all many of tales of the old days

  A multitude minded, found other words also 870

  Sooth-bounden, and boldly the man thus began

  E’en Beowulf’s wayfare well wisely to stir,

  With good speed to set forth the spells well areded

  And to shift about words. And well of all told he

  That he of Sigemund erst had heard say,

  Of the deeds of his might; and many things uncouth:

  Of the strife of the Wælsing and his wide wayfarings,

  Of those that men’s children not well yet they wist,

  The feud and the crimes, save Fitela with him;

  Somewhat of such things yet would he say, 880

  The eme to the nephew; e’en as they aye were

  In all strife soever fellows full needful;

  And full many had they of the kin of the eotens

  Laid low with the sword. And to Sigemund upsprang

  After his death-day fair doom unlittle

  Sithence that the war-hard the Worm there had quelled,

  The herd of the hoard; he under the hoar stone,

  The bairn of the Atheling, all alone dar’d it,

  That wight deed of deeds; with him Fitela was not.

  But howe’er, his hap was that the sword so through-waded 890

  The Worm the all-wondrous, that in the wall stood

  The iron dear-wrought: and the drake died the murder.

  There had the warrior so won by wightness,

  That he of the ring-hoard the use might be having

  All at his own will. The sea-boat he loaded,

  And into the ship’s barm bore the bright fretwork

  Wæls’ son. In the hotness the Worm was to-molten.

  Now he of all wanderers was widely the greatest

  Through the peoples of man-kind, the warder of warriors,

  By mighty deeds; erst then and early he throve. 900

  Now sithence the warfare of Heremod waned,

  His might and his valour, amidst of the eotens

  To the wielding of foemen straight was he betrayed,

  And speedily sent forth: by the surges of sorrow

  O’er-long was he lam’d, became he to his lieges,

  To all of the athelings, a life-care thenceforward.

  Withal oft bemoaned in times that were older

  The ways of that stout heart many a carle of the wisest.

  Who trow’d in him boldly for booting of bales,

  And had look’d that the king’s bairn should ever be thriving, 910

  His father’s own lordship should take, hold the folk,

  The hoard and the ward-burg, and realm of the heroes,

  The own land of the Scyldings. To all men was Beowulf,

  The Hygelac’s kinsman to the kindred of menfolk,

  More fair unto friends; but on Heremod crime fell.

  So whiles the men flyting the fallow street there

  With their mares were they meting. There then was the morn-light

  Thrust forth and hasten’d; went many a warrior

  All hardy of heart to the high hall aloft

  The rare wonder to see; and the King’s self withal 920

  From the bride-bower wended, the warder of ring-hoards,

  All glorious he trod and a mickle troop had he,

  He for choice ways beknown; and his Queen therewithal

  Meted the mead-path with a meyny of maidens.

  XV. KING HROTHGAR AND HIS THANES LOOK ON THE ARM OF GRENDEL. CONVERSE BETWIXT HROTHGAR AND BEOWULF CONCERNING THE BATTLE.

  Out then spake Hrothgar; for he to the hall went,

  By the staple a-standing the steep roof he saw

  Shining fair with the gold, and the hand there of Grendel:

  For this sight that I see to the All-wielder thanks

  Befall now forthwith, for foul evil I bided,

  All griefs from this Grendel; but God, glory’s Herder, 930

  Wonder on wonder ever can work.

  Unyore was it then when I for myself

  Might ween never more, wide all through my life-days,

  Of the booting of woes; when all blood-besprinkled

  The best of all houses stood sword-gory here;

  Wide then had the woe thrust off each of the wise

  Of them that were looking that never life-long

  That land-work of the folk they might ward from the loathly,

  From ill wights and devils. But now hath a warrior

  Through the might of the Lord a deed made thereunto 940

  Which we, and all we together, in nowise

  By wisdom might work. What! well might be saying

  That maid whosoever this son brought to birth

  According to man’s kind, if yet she be living,

  That the Maker of old time to her was all-gracious

  In the bearing of bairns. O Beowulf, I now

  Thee best of all men as a son unto me

  Will love in my heart, and hold thou henceforward

  Our kinship new-made now; nor to thee shall be lacking

  As to longings of world-goods whereof I have wielding; 950

  Full oft I for lesser things guerdon have given,

  The worship of hoards, to a warrior was weaker,

  A worser in strife. Now thyself for thyself

  By deeds hast thou fram’d it that liveth thy fair fame

  For ever and ever. So may the All-wielder

  With good pay thee ever, as erst he hath done it.

  Then Beowulf spake out, the Ecgtheow’s bairn:

  That work of much might with mickle of love

  We framed with fighting, and frowardly ventur’d

  The might of the uncouth; now I would that rather 960

  Thou mightest have look’d on the very man there,

  The foe in his fret-gear all worn unto falling.

  There him in all haste with hard griping did I

  On the slaughter-bed deem it to bind him indeed,

  That he for my hand-grip should have to be lying

  All busy for life: but his body fled off.

  Him then, I might not (since would not the Maker)

  From his wayfaring sunder, nor naught so well sought I

  The life-foe; o’er-mickle of might was he yet,

  The foeman afoot: but his hand has he left us, 970

  A life-ward, a-warding the ways of his wending,

  His arm and his shoulder therewith. Yet in nowise

  That wretch of the grooms any solace hath got him,

  Nor longer will live the loathly deed-doer,

  Beswinked with sins; for the sore hath him now

  In the grip of need grievous, in strait hold togather’d

  With bonds that be baleful: there shall he abide,

  That wight dyed with all evil-deeds, the doom mickle,

  For what wise to him the bright Maker will write it.

  Then a silenter man was the son there of Ecglaf 980

  In the speech of the boasting of works of the battle,

  After when every atheling by craft of the earl

  Over the high roof had look’d on the hand there,

  Yea, the fiend’s fingers before his own eyen,

  Each one of the nail-steads most like unto steel,
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  Hand-spur of the heathen one; yea, the own claw

  Uncouth of the war-wight. But each one there quoth it,

  That no iron of the best, of the hardy of folk,

  Would touch him at all, which e’er of the monster

  The battle-hand bloody might bear away thence. 990

  XVI. HROTHGAR GIVETH GIFTS TO BEOWULF.

  Then was speedily bidden that Hart be withinward

  By hand of man well adorn’d; was there a many

  Of warriors and wives, who straightway that wine-house

  The guest-house, bedight them: there gold-shotten shone

  The webs over the walls, many wonders to look on

  For men every one who on such things will stare.

  Was that building the bright all broken about

  All withinward, though fast in the bands of the iron;

  Asunder the hinges rent, only the roof there

  Was saved all sound, when the monster of evil 1000

  The guilty of crime-deeds had gat him to flight

  Never hoping for life. Nay, lightly now may not

  That matter be fled from, frame it whoso may frame it.

  But by strife man shall win of the bearers of souls,

  Of the children of men, compelled by need,

  The abiders on earth, the place made all ready,

  The stead where his body laid fast on his death-bed

  Shall sleep after feast. Now time and place was it

  When unto the hall went that Healfdene’s son,

  And the King himself therein the feast should be sharing; 1010

  Never heard I of men-folk in fellowship more

  About their wealth-giver so well themselves bearing.

  Then bow’d unto bench there the abounders in riches

  And were fain of their fill. Full fairly there took

  A many of mead-cups the kin of those men,

  The sturdy of heart in the hall high aloft,

  Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Hart there withinward

  Of friends was fulfilled; naught there that was guilesome

  The folk of the Scyldings for yet awhile framed.

  Gave then to Beowulf Healfdene’s bairn 1020

  A golden war-ensign, the victory’s guerdon,

  A staff-banner fair-dight, a helm and a byrny:

  The great jewel-sword a many men saw them

  Bear forth to the hero. Then Beowulf took

  The cup on the floor, and nowise of that fee-gift

  Before the shaft-shooters the shame need he have.

  Never heard I how friendlier four of the treasures,

  All gear’d with the gold about, many men erewhile

  On the ale-bench have given to others of men.

  Round the roof of the helm, the burg of the head, 1030

  A wale wound with wires held ward from without-ward,

  So that the file-leavings might not over fiercely,

  Were they never so shower-hard, scathe the shield-bold,

  When he ‘gainst the angry in anger should get him.

  Therewith bade the earls’ burg that eight of the horses

  With cheek-plates adorned be led down the floor

  In under the fences; on one thereof stood

  A saddle all craft-bedeck’d, seemly with treasure.

  That same was the war-seat of the high King full surely

  Whenas that the sword-play that Healfdene’s son 1040

  Would work; never failed in front of the war

  The wide-kenn’d one’s war-might, whereas fell the slain.

  So to Beowulf thereon of either of both

  The Ingwines’ high warder gave wielding to have,

  Both the war-steeds and weapons, and bade him well brook them.

  Thuswise and so manly the mighty of princes,

  Hoard-warden of heroes, the battle-race paid

  With mares and with gems, so as no man shall blame them,

  E’en he who will say sooth aright as it is.

  XVII. THEY FEAST IN HART. THE GLEEMAN SINGS OF FINN AND HENGEST.

  Then the lord of the earl-folk to every and each one 1050

  Of them who with Beowulf the sea-ways had worn

  Then and there on the mead-bench did handsel them treasure,

  An heir-loom to wit; for him also he bade it

  That a were-gild be paid, whom Grendel aforetime

  By wickedness quell’d, as far more of them would he,

  Save from them God all-witting the weird away wended,

  And that man’s mood withal. But the Maker all wielded

  Of the kindred of mankind, as yet now he doeth.

  Therefore through-witting will be the best everywhere

  And the forethought of mind. Many things must abide 1060

  Of lief and of loth, he who here a long while

  In these days of the strife with the world shall be dealing.

  There song was and sound all gather’d together

  Of that Healfdene’s warrior and wielder of battle,

  The wood of glee greeted, the lay wreaked often,

  Whenas the hall-game the minstrel of Hrothgar

  All down by the mead-bench tale must be making:

  By Finn’s sons aforetime, when the fear gat them,

  The hero of Half-Danes, Hnaef of the Scyldings,

  On the slaughter-field Frisian needs must he fall. 1070

  Forsooth never Hildeburh needed to hery

  The troth of the Eotens; she all unsinning

  Was lorne of her lief ones in that play of the linden,

  Her bairns and her brethren, by fate there they fell

  Spear-wounded. That was the all-woeful of women.

  Not unduly without cause the daughter of Hoc

  Mourn’d the Maker’s own shaping, sithence came the morn

  When she under the heavens that tide came to see,

  Murder-bale of her kinsmen, where most had she erewhile?

  Of world’s bliss. The war-tide took all men away 1080

  Of Finn’s thanes that were, save only a few;

  E’en so that he might not on the field of the meeting

  Hold Hengest a war-tide, or fight any whit,

  Nor yet snatch away thence by war the woe-leavings

  From the thane of the King; but terms now they bade him

  That for them other stead all for all should make room,

  A hall and high settle, whereof the half-wielding

  They with the Eotens’ bairns henceforth might hold,

  And with fee-gifts moreover the son of Folkwalda

  Each day of the days the Danes should beworthy; 1090

  The war-heap of Hengest with rings should he honour

  Even so greatly with treasure of treasures,

  Of gold all beplated, as he the kin Frisian

  Down in the beer-hall duly should dight.

  Troth then they struck there each of the two halves,

  A peace-troth full fast. There Finn unto Hengest

  Strongly, unstrifeful, with oath-swearing swore,

  That he the woe-leaving by the doom of the wise ones

  Should hold in ail honour, that never man henceforth

  With word or with work the troth should be breaking, 1100

  Nor through craft of the guileful should undo it ever,

  Though their ring-giver’s bane they must follow in rank

  All lordless, e’en so need is it to be:

  But if any of Frisians by over-bold speaking

  The murderful hatred should call unto mind,

  Then naught but the edge of the sword should avenge it.

  Then done was the oath there, and gold of the golden

  Heav’d up from the hoard. Of the bold Here-Scyldings

  All yare on the bale was the best battle-warrior;

  On the death-howe beholden was easily there 1110

  The sark stain’d with war-sweat, the all-golden swine,

  The iron-hard boar; there was many an atheling

&n
bsp; With wounds all outworn; some on slaughter-field welter’d.

  But Hildeburh therewith on Hnæf’s bale she bade them

  The own son of herself to set fast in the flame,

  His bone-vats to burn up and lay on the bale there:

  On his shoulder all woeful the woman lamented,

  Sang songs of bewailing, as the warrior strode upward,

  Wound up to the welkin that most of death-fires,

  Before the howe howled; there molten the heads were, 1120

  The wound-gates burst open, there blood was out-springing

  From foe-bites of the body; the flame swallow’d all,

  The greediest of ghosts, of them that war gat him

  Of either of folks; shaken off was their life-breath.

  XVIII. THE ENDING OF THE TALE OF FINN.

  Departed the warriors their wicks to visit

  All forlorn of their friends now, Friesland to look on,

  Their homes and their high burg. Hengest a while yet

  Through the slaughter-dyed winter bode dwelling with Finn

  And all without strife: he remember’d his homeland,

  Though never he might o’er the mere be a-driving 1130

  The high prow be-ringed: with storm the holm welter’d,

  Won war ‘gainst the winds; winter locked the waves

  With bondage of ice, till again came another

  Of years into the garth, as yet it is ever,

  And the days which the season to watch never cease,

  The glory-bright weather; then gone was the winter,

  And fair was the earth’s barm. Now hastened the exile.

  The guest from the garths; he on getting of vengeance

  Of harms thought more greatly than of the sea’s highway,

  If he but a wrath-mote might yet be a-wending 1140

  Where the bairns of the Eotens might he still remember.

  The ways of the world forwent he in nowise

  Then, whenas Hunlafing the light of the battle,

  The best of all bills, did into his breast,

  Whereof mid the Eotens were the edges well knowen.

  Withal to the bold-hearted Finn befell after

  Sword-bales the deadly at his very own dwelling,

  When the grim grip of war Guthlaf and Oslaf

  After the sea-fare lamented with sorrow

  And wyted him deal of their woes; nor then might he 1150

  In his breast hold his wavering heart. Was the hall dight

  With the lives of slain foemen, and slain eke was Finn

  The King ‘midst of his court-men; and there the Queen, taken,

  The shooters of the Scyldings ferry’d down to the sea-ships,

  And the house-wares and chattels the earth-king had had,