Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

by Beowulf

  E’en such as at Finn’s home there might they find,

  Of collars and cunning gems. They on the sea-path

  The all-lordly wife to the Danes straightly wended,

  Led her home to their people. So sung was the lay,

  The song of the gleeman; then again arose game, 1160

  The bench-voice wax’d brighter, gave forth the birlers

  Wine of the wonder-vats. Then came forth Wealhtheow

  Under gold ring a-going to where sat the two good ones,

  The uncle and nephew, yet of kindred unsunder’d,

  Each true to the other. Eke Unferth the spokesman

  Sat at feet of the Scyldings’ lord; each of his heart trow’d

  That of mickle mood was he, though he to his kinsmen

  Were un-upright in edge-play. Spake the dame of the Scyldings:

  Now take thou this cup, my lord of the kingly,

  Bestower of treasures! Be thou in thy joyance, 1170

  Thou gold-friend of men! and speak to these Geat-folk

  In mild words, as duly behoveth to do;

  Be glad toward the Geat-folk, and mindful of gifts;

  From anigh and from far peace hast thou as now.

  To me one hath said it, that thou for a son wouldst

  This warrior be holding. Lo! Hart now is cleansed,

  The ring-hall bright-beaming. Have joy while thou mayest

  In many a meed, and unto thy kinsmen

  Leave folk and dominion, when forth thou must fare

  To look on the Maker’s own making. I know now 1180

  My Hrothulf the gladsome, that he this young man

  Will hold in all honour if thou now before him,

  O friend of the Scyldings, shall fare from the world;

  I ween that good-will yet this man will be yielding

  To our offspring that after us be, if he mind him

  Of all that which we two, for good-will and for worship,

  Unto him erst a child yet have framed of kindness.

  Then along by the bench did she turn, where her boys were,

  Hrethric and Hrothmund, and the bairns of high warriors,

  The young ones together; and there sat the good one, 1190

  Beowulf the Geat, betwixt the two brethren.

  XIX. MORE GIFTS ARE GIVEN TO BEOWULF. THE BRISING COLLAR TOLD OF.

  Borne to him then the cup was, and therewith friendly bidding

  In words was put forth; and gold about wounden

  All blithely they bade him bear; arm-gearings twain,

  Rail and rings, the most greatest of fashion of neck-rings

  Of them that on earth I have ever heard tell of:

  Not one under heaven wrought better was heard of

  Midst the hoard-gems of heroes, since bore away Hama

  To the bright burg and brave the neck-gear of the Brisings,

  The gem and the gem-chest: from the foeman’s guile fled he 1200

  Of Eormenric then, and chose rede everlasting.

  That ring Hygelac had, e’en he of the Geat-folk,

  The grandson of Swerting, the last time of all times

  When he under the war-sign his treasure defended,

  The slaughter-prey warded. Him weird bore away

  Sithence he for pride-sake the war-woe abided,

  The feud with the Frisians; the fretwork he flitted,

  The gem-stones much worthy, all over the waves’ cup.

  The King the full mighty cring’d under the shield;

  Into grasp of the Franks the King’s life was gotten 1210

  With the gear of the breast and the ring altogether;

  It was worser war-wolves then reft gear from the slain

  After the war-shearing; there the Geats’ war-folk

  Held the house of the dead men. The Hall took the voices;

  Spake out then Wealhtheow; before the host said she:

  Brook thou this roundel, lief Beowulf, henceforth,

  Dear youth, with all hail, and this rail be thou using,

  These gems of folk-treasures, and thrive thou well ever;

  Thy might then make manifest! Be to these lads here

  Kind of lore, and for that will I look to thy guerdon. 1220

  Thou hast won by thy faring, that far and near henceforth,

  Through wide time to come, men will give thee the worship,

  As widely as ever the sea winds about

  The windy land-walls. Be the while thou art living

  An atheling wealthy, and well do I will thee

  Of good of the treasures; be thou to my son

  In deed ever friendly, and uphold thy joyance!

  Lo! each of the earls here to the other is trusty,

  And mild of his mood and to man-lord full faithful,

  Kind friends all the thanes are, the folk ever yare. 1230

  Ye well drunk of folk-grooms, now do ye my biddings.

  To her settle then far’d she; was the feast of the choicest,

  The men drank the wine nothing wotting of weird,

  The grim shaping of old, e’en as forth it had gone

  To a many of earls; sithence came the even,

  And Hrothgar departed to his chamber on high,

  The rich to his rest; and aright the house warded

  Earls untold of number, as oft did they erewhile.

  The bench-boards they bar’d them, and there they spread over

  With beds and with bolsters. Of the beer-skinkers one 1240

  Who fain was and fey bow’d adown to his floor-rest.

  At their heads then they rested their rounds of the battle,

  Their board-woods bright-shining. There on the bench was,

  Over the atheling, easy to look on

  The battle-steep war-helm, the byrny be-ringed,

  The wood of the onset, all-glorious. Their wont was

  That oft and oft were they all yare for the war-tide,

  Both at home and in hosting, were it one were it either,

  And for every such tide as their liege lord unto

  The need were befallen: right good was that folk. 1250

  XX. GRENDEL’S DAM BREAKS INTO HART AND BEARS OFF AESCHERE.

  So sank they to slumber; but one paid full sorely

  For his rest of the even, as to them fell full often

  Sithence that the gold-hall Grendel had guarded,

  And won deed of unright, until that the end came

  And death after sinning: but clear was it shown now,

  Wide wotted of men, that e’en yet was a wreaker

  Living after the loathly, a long while of time

  After the battle-care, Grendel’s own mother;

  The woman, the monster-wife, minded her woe,

  She who needs must in horror of waters be wonning, 1260

  The streams all a-cold, sithence Cain was become

  For an edge-bane forsooth to his very own brother,

  The own son of his father. Forth bann’d then he fared,

  All marked by murder, from man’s joy to flee,

  And dwelt in the waste-land. Thence woke there a many

  Ghosts shapen of old time, of whom one was Grendel,

  The fierce wolf, the hateful, who found him at Hart

  A man there a-watching, abiding the war-tide;

  Where to him the fell ogre to hand-grips befell;

  Howe’er he him minded of the strength of his might, 1270

  The great gift set fast in him given of God,

  And trowed in grace by the All-wielder given,

  His fostering, his staying; so the fiend he o’ercame

  And bow’d down the Hell’s ghost, that all humble he wended

  Fordone of all mirth death’s house to go look on,

  That fiend of all mankind. But yet was his mother,

  The greedy, the glum-moody, fain to be going

  A sorrowful journey her son’s death to wreak.

  So came she to Hart whereas now the Ring-Danes

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bsp; Were sleeping adown the hall; soon there befell 1280

  Change of days to the earl-folk, when in she came thrusting,

  Grendel’s mother: and soothly was minish’d the terror

  By even so much as the craft-work of maidens,

  The war-terror of wife, is beside the man weapon’d,

  When the sword all hard bounden, by hammers to-beaten,

  The sword all sweat-stain’d, through the swine o’er the war-helm

  With edges full doughty down rightly sheareth.

  But therewith in the hall was tugg’d out the hard edge,

  The sword o’er the settles, and wide shields a many

  Heaved fast in the hand: no one the helm heeded, 1290

  Nor the byrny wide-wrought, when the wild fear fell on them.

  In haste was she then, and out would she thenceforth

  For the saving her life, whenas she should be found there.

  But one of the athelings she speedily handled

  And caught up full fast, and fenward so fared.

  But he was unto Hrothgar the liefest of heroes

  Of the sort of the fellows; betwixt the two sea-floods

  A mighty shield-warrior, whom she at rest brake up,

  A war-wight well famed. There Beowulf was not;

  Another house soothly had erewhile been dighted 1300

  After gift of that treasure to that great one of Geats.

  Uprose cry then in Hart, all ‘mid gore had she taken

  The hand, the well-known, and now care wrought anew

  In the wicks was arisen. Naught well was the bargain

  That on both halves they needs must be buying that tide

  With the life-days of friends. Then the lord king, the wise,

  The hoary of war-folk, was harmed of mood

  When his elder of thanes and he now unliving,

  The dearest of all, he knew to be dead.

  To the bower full swiftly was Beowulf brought now, 1310

  The man victory-dower’d; together with day-dawn

  Went he, one of the earls, that champion beworthy’d,

  Himself with his fellows, where the wise was abiding

  To wot if the All-wielder ever will to him

  After the tale of woe happy change work.

  Then went down the floor he the war-worthy

  With the host of his hand, while high dinn’d the hall-wood,

  Till he there the wise one with words had well greeted,

  The lord of the Ingwines, and ask’d had the night been.

  Since sore he was summon’d, a night of sweet easement. 1320

  XXI. HROTHGAR LAMENTS THE SLAYING OF AESCHERE, AND TELLS OF GRENDEL’S MOTHER AND HER DEN.

  Spake out then Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:

  Ask no more after bliss; for new-made now is sorrow

  For the folk of the Danes; for Aeschere is dead,

  He who was Yrmenlaf’s elder of brethren,

  My wise man of runes, my bearer of redes,

  Mine own shoulder-fellow, when we in the war-tide

  Warded our heads and the host on the host fell,

  And the boars were a-crashing; e’en such should an earl be,

  An atheling exceeding good, e’en as was Aeschere.

  Now in Hart hath befallen for a hand-bane unto him 1330

  A slaughter-ghost wandering; naught wot I whither

  The fell one, the carrion-proud, far’d hath her back-fare,

  By her fill made all famous. That feud hath she wreaked

  Wherein yesternight gone by Grendel thou quelledst

  Through thy hardihood fierce with grips hard enow.

  For that he over-long the lief people of me

  Made to wane and undid. In the war then he cringed,

  Being forfeit of life. But now came another,

  An ill-scather mighty, her son to awreak;

  And further hath she now the feud set on foot, 1340

  As may well be deemed of many a thane,

  Who after the wealth-giver weepeth in mind,

  A hard bale of heart. Now the hand lieth low

  Which well-nigh for every joy once did avail you.

  The dwellers in land here, my people indeed,

  The wise-of-rede hall-folk, have I heard say e’en this:

  That they have set eyes on two such-like erewhile,

  Two mickle mark-striders the moorland a-holding,

  Ghosts come from elsewhere, but of them one there was,

  As full certainly might they then know it to be, 1350

  In the likeness of woman; and the other shap’d loathly

  All after man’s image trod the tracks of the exile,

  Save that more was he shapen than any man other;

  And in days gone away now they named him Grendel,

  The dwellers in fold; they wot not if a father

  Unto him was born ever in the days of erewhile

  Of dark ghosts. They dwell in a dim hidden land,

  The wolf-bents they bide in, on the nesses the windy,

  The perilous fen-paths where the stream of the fell-side

  Midst the mists of the nesses wends netherward ever, 1360

  The flood under earth. Naught far away hence,

  But a mile-mark forsooth, there standeth the mere,

  And over it ever hang groves all berimed,

  The wood fast by the roots over-helmeth the water.

  But each night may one a dread wonder there see,

  A fire in the flood. But none liveth so wise

  Of the bairns of mankind, that the bottom may know.

  Although the heath-stepper beswinked by hounds,

  The hart strong of horns, that holt-wood should seek to

  Driven fleeing from far, he shall sooner leave life, 1370

  Leave life-breath on the bank, or ever will he

  Therein hide his head. No hallow’d stead is it:

  Thence the blending of water-waves ever upriseth

  Wan up to the welkin, whenso the wind stirreth

  Weather-storms loathly, until the lift darkens

  And weepeth the heavens. Now along the rede wendeth

  Of thee again only. Of that earth yet thou know’st not,

  The fearful of steads, wherein thou mayst find

  That much-sinning wight; seek then if thou dare,

  And thee for that feud will I guerdon with fee, 1380

  The treasures of old time, as erst did I do,

  With the gold all-bewounden, if away thence thou get thee.

  XXII. THEY FOLLOW GRENDEL’S DAM TO HER LAIR.

  Spake out then Beowulf the Ecgtheow’s bairn:

  O wise of men, mourn not; for to each man ’tis better

  That his friend he awreak than weep overmuch.

  Lo! each of us soothly abideth the ending

  Of the life of the world. Then let him work who work may

  High deeds ere the death: to the doughty of war-lads

  When he is unliving shall it best be hereafter.

  Rise up, warder of kingdom! and swiftly now wend we 1390

  The Grendel Kinswoman’s late goings to look on;

  And this I behote thee, that to holm shall she flee not,

  Nor into earth’s fathom, nor into the fell-holt,

  Nor the grounds of the ocean, go whereas she will go.

  For this one of days patience dree thou a while then

  Of each one of thy woes, as I ween it of thee.

  Then leapt up the old man, and lightly gave God thank,

  That mighty of Lords, for the word which the man spake.

  And for Hrothgar straightway then was bitted a horse,

  A wave-maned steed: and the wise of the princes 1400

  Went stately his ways; and stepp’d out the man-troop,

  The linden-board bearers. Now lightly the tracks were

  All through the woodland ways wide to be seen there,

  Her goings o’er ground; she had gotten her forthright

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p; Over the mirk-moor: bore she of kindred thanes

  The best that there was, all bare of his soul,

  Of them that with Hrothgar heeded the home.

  Overwent then that bairn of the athelings

  Steep bents of the stones, and stridings full narrow,

  Strait paths nothing pass’d over, ways all uncouth, 1410

  Sheer nesses to wit, many houses of nicors.

  He one of the few was going before

  Of the wise of the men the meadow to look on,

  Until suddenly there the trees of the mountains

  Over the hoar-stone found he a-leaning,

  A wood without gladness: the water stood under

  Dreary and troubled. Unto all the Danes was it,

  To the friends of the Scyldings, most grievous in mood

  To many of thanes such a thing to be tholing,

  Sore evil to each one of earls, for of Aeschere 1420

  The head did they find e’en there on the holm-cliff;

  The flood with gore welled (the folk looking on it),

  With hot blood. But whiles then the horn fell to singing

  A song of war eager. There sat down the band;

  They saw down the water a many of worm-kind,

  Sea-drakes seldom seen a-kenning the sound;

  Likewise on the ness-bents nicors a-lying,

  Who oft on the undern-tide wont are to hold them

  A course full of sorrow all over the sail-road.

  Now the worms and the wild-deer away did they speed 1430

  Bitter and wrath-swollen all as they heard it,

  The war-horn a-wailing: but one the Geats’ warden

  With his bow of the shafts from his life-days there sunder’d,

  From his strife of the waves; so that stood in his life-parts

  The hard arrow of war; and he in the holm was

  The slower in swimming as death away swept him.

  So swiftly in sea-waves with boar-spears forsooth

  Sharp-hook’d and hard-press’d was he thereupon,

  Set on with fierce battle, and on to the ness tugg’d,

  The wondrous wave-bearer; and men were beholding 1440

  The grisly guest, Beowulf therewith he gear’d him

  With weed of the earls: nowise of life reck’d he:

  Needs must his war-byrny, braided by hands,

  Wide, many-colour’d by cunning, the sound seek,

  E’en that which his bone-coffer knew how to ward,

  So that the war-grip his heart ne’er a while,

  The foe-snatch of the wrathful his life ne’er should scathe;

  Therewith the white war-helm warded his head,