Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

by Beowulf

  XXVI. MORE CONVERSE OF HROTHGAR AND BEOWULF: THE GEATS MAKE THEM READY FOR DEPARTURE.

  Until that within him a deal of o’erthink-ing 1740

  Waxeth and groweth while sleepeth the warder,

  The soul’s herdsman; that slumber too fast is forsooth,

  Fast bounden by troubles, the banesman all nigh,

  E’en he that from arrow-bow evilly shooteth.

  Then he in his heart under helm is besmitten

  With a bitter shaft; not a whit then may he ward him

  From the wry wonder-biddings of the ghost the all-wicked.

  Too little he deems that which long he hath hold.

  Wrath-greedy he covets; nor e’en for boast-sake gives

  The rings fair beplated; and the forth-coming doom 1750

  Forgetteth, forheedeth, for that God gave him erewhile,

  The Wielder of glory, a deal of the worship.

  At the ending-stave then it after befalleth

  That the shell of his body sinks fleeting away,

  And falleth all fey; and another one fetcheth,

  E’en one that undolefully dealeth the treasure,

  The earl’s gains of aforetime, and fear never heedeth.

  From the bale-envy ward thee, lief Beowulf, therefore,

  Thou best of all men, and choose thee the better,

  The redes everlasting; to o’erthinkirig turn not, 1760

  O mighty of champions! for now thy might breatheth

  For a short while of time; but eft-soon it shall be

  That sickness or edges from thy strength thee shall sunder,

  Or the hold of the fire, or the welling of floods,

  Or the grip of the sword-blade, or flight of the spear,

  Or eld the all-evil: or the beaming of eyen

  Shall fail and shall dim: then shall it be forthright

  That thee, lordly man, the death over-masters.

  E’en so I the Ring-Danes for an hundred of seasons

  Did wield under the welkin and lock’d them by war 1770

  From many a kindred the Middle-Garth over

  With ash-spears and edges, in such wise that not ever

  Under the sky’s run of my foemen I reckoned.

  What! to me in my land came a shifting of that,

  Came grief after game, sithence Grendel befell,

  My foeman of old, mine ingoer soothly.

  I from that onfall bore ever unceasing

  Mickle mood-care; herefor be thanks to the Maker,

  To the Lord everlasting, that in life I abided,

  Yea, that I on that head all sword-gory there, 1780

  Now the old strife is over, with eyen should stare.

  Go fare thou to settle, the feast-joyance dree thou,

  O war-worshipp’d! unto us twain yet there will be

  Mickle treasure in common when come is the morning.

  Glad of mood then the Geat was, and speedy he gat him

  To go see the settle, as the sage one commanded.

  Then was after as erst, that they of the might-fame,

  The floor-sitters, fairly the feasting bedight them

  All newly. The helm of the night loured over

  Dark over the host-men. Uprose all the doughty, 1790

  For he, the hoar-blended, would wend to his bed,

  That old man of the Scyldings. The Geat without measure,

  The mighty shield-warrior, now willed him rest.

  And soon now the hall-thane him of way-faring weary,

  From far away come, forth show’d him the road,

  E’en he who for courtesy cared for all things

  Of the needs of the thane, e’en such as on that day

  The farers o’er ocean would fainly have had.

  Rested then the wide-hearted; high up the house tower’d

  Wide-gaping all gold-dight; within slept the guest; 1800

  Until the black raven, the blithe-hearted, boded

  The heavens’ joy: then was come thither a-hastening

  The bright sun o’er the plains, and hastened the scathers,

  The athelings once more aback to their people

  All fain to be faring; and far away thence

  Would the comer high-hearted go visit his keel.

  Bade then the hard one Hrunting to bear,

  The Ecglaf’s son bade to take him his sword,

  The iron well-lov’d; gave him thanks for the lending,

  Quoth he that the war-friend for worthy he told, 1810

  Full of craft in the war; nor with word he aught

  The edge of the sword. Hah! the high-hearted warrior.

  So whenas all way-forward, yare in their war-gear,

  Were the warriors, the dear one then went to the Danes,

  To the high seat went the Atheling, whereas was the other;

  The battle-bold warrior gave greeting to Hrothgar.

  XXVII. BEOWULF BIDS HROTHGAR FAREWELL: THE GEATS FARE TO SHIP.

  Out then spake Beowulf, Ecgtheow’s bairn:

  As now we sea-farers have will to be saying,

  We from afar come, that now are we fainest

  Of seeking to Hygelac. Here well erst were we 1820

  Serv’d as our wills would, and well thine avail was.

  If I on the earth then, be it e’en but a little,

  Of the love of thy mood may yet more be an-earning,

  O lord of the men-folk, than heretofore might I,

  Of the works of the battle yare then soon shall I be.

  If I should be learning, I over the flood’s run,

  That the sitters about thee beset thee with dread,

  Even thee hating as otherwhile did they;

  Then thousands to theeward of thanes shall I bring

  For the helping of heroes. Of Hygelac wot I, 1830

  The lord of the Geat-folk, though he be but a youngling,

  That shepherd of folk, that me will he further

  By words and by works, that well may I ward thee,

  And unto thine helping the spear-holt may bear,

  A main-staying mighty, whenas men thou art needing.

  And if therewith Hrethric in the courts of the Geat-house,

  The King’s bairn, take hosting, then may he a many

  Of friends find him soothly: far countries shall be

  Better sought to by him who for himself is doughty.

  Out then spake Hrothgar in answer to himward: 1840

  Thy word-saying soothly the Lord of all wisdom

  Hath sent into thy mind; never heard I more sagely

  In a life that so young was a man word be laying;

  Strong of might and main art thou and sage of thy mood,

  Wise the words of thy framing. Tell I this for a weening,

  If it so come to pass that the spear yet shall take,

  Or the battle all sword-grim, the son of that Hrethel,

  Or sickness or iron thine Alderman have,

  Thy shepherd of folk, and thou fast to life hold thee,

  Then no better than thee may the Sea-Geats be having 1850

  To choose for themselves, no one of the kings,

  Hoard-warden of heroes, if then thou wilt hold

  Thy kinsman’s own kingdom. Me liketh thy mood-heart,

  The longer the better, O Beowulf the lief;

  In such wise hast thou fared, that unto the folks now,

  The folk of the Geats and the Gar-Danes withal,

  In common shall peace be, and strife rest appeased

  And the hatreds the doleful which erst they have dreed;

  Shall become, whiles I wield it, this wide realm of ours,

  Treasures common to either folk: many a one other 1860

  With good things shall greet o’er the bath of the gannet;

  And the ring’d bark withal over sea shall be bringing

  The gifts and love-tokens. The twain folks I know

  Toward foeman toward friend fast-fashion’d together,

  In every way blameless
as in the old wise.

  Then the refuge of warriors, he gave him withal,

  Gave Healfdene’s son of treasures yet twelve;

  And he bade him with those gifts to go his own people

  To seek in all soundness, and swiftly come back.

  Then kissed the king, he of noble kin gotten, 1870

  The lord of the Scyldings, that best of the thanes,

  By the halse then he took him; from him fell the tears

  From the blended of hoar hair. Of both things was there hoping

  To the old, the old wise one; yet most of the other,

  To wit, that they sithence each each might be seeing,

  The high-heart in council. To him so lief was he

  That he his breast-welling might nowise forbear,

  But there in his bosom, bound fast in his heart-bonds,

  After that dear man a longing dim-hidden

  Burn’d against blood-tie. So Beowulf thenceforth, 1880

  The gold-proud of warriors, trod the mould grassy,

  Exulting in gold-store. The sea-ganger bided

  Its owning-lord whereas at anchor it rode.

  Then was there in going the gift of King Hrothgar

  Oft highly accounted; yea, that was a king

  In every wise blameless, till eld took from him eftsoon

  The joyance of might, as it oft scathes a many.

  XXVIII. BEOWULF COMES BACK TO HIS LAND. OF THE TALE OF THRYTHO.

  Came a many to flood then all mighty of mood,

  Of the bachelors were they, and ring-nets they bore,

  The limb-sarks belocked. The land-warden noted 1890

  The earls’ aback-faring, as erst he beheld them;

  Then nowise with harm from the nose of the cliff

  The guests there he greeted, but rode unto themward,

  And quoth that full welcome to the folk of the Weders

  The bright-coated warriors were wending to ship.

  Then was on the sand there the bark the wide-sided

  With war-weed beladen, the ring-stemm’d as she lay there

  With mares and with treasure; uptower’d the mast

  High over Hrothgar’s wealth of the hoards.

  He then to the boat-warden handsel’d a gold-bounden 1900

  Sword, so that sithence was he on mead-bench

  Worthy’d the more for that very same wealth,

  The heirloom. Sithence in the ship he departed

  To stir the deep water; the Dane-land he left.

  Then was by the mast there one of the sea-rails,

  A sail, with rope made fast; thunder’d the sound-wood.

  Not there the wave-floater did the wind o’er the billows

  Waft off from its ways; the sea-wender fared,

  Floated the foamy-neck’d forth o’er the waves,

  The bounden-stemm’d over the streams of the sea; 1910

  Till the cliffs of the Geats there they gat them to wit,

  The nesses well kenned. Throng’d up the keel then

  Driven hard by the lift, and stood on the land.

  Then speedy at holm was the hythe-warden yare,

  E’en he who a long while after the lief men

  Eager at stream’s side far off had looked.

  To the sand thereon bound he the wide-fathom’d ship

  With anchor-bands fast, lest from them the waves’ might

  The wood that was winsome should drive thence awayward.

  Thereon bade he upbear the athelings’ treasures, 1920

  The fretwork and wrought gold. Not far from them thenceforth

  To seek to the giver of treasures it was,

  E’en Hygelac, Hrethel’s son, where at home wonneth

  Himself and his fellows hard by the sea-wall.

  Brave was the builded house, bold king the lord was,

  High were the walls, Hygd very young,

  Wise and well-thriven, though few of winters

  Under the burg-locks had she abided,

  The daughter of Hæreth; naught was she dastard;

  Nowise niggard of gifts to the folk of the Geats, 1930

  Of wealth of the treasures. But wrath Thrytho bore,

  The folk-queen the fierce, wrought the crime-deed full fearful.

  No one there durst it, the bold one, to dare,

  Of the comrades beloved, save only her lord,

  That on her by day with eyen he stare,

  But if to him death-bonds predestin’d he count on,

  Hand-wreathed; thereafter all rathely it was

  After the hand-grip the sword-blade appointed,

  That the cunning-wrought sword should show forth the deed,

  Make known the murder-bale. Naught is such queenlike 1940

  For a woman to handle, though peerless she be,

  That a weaver of peace the life should waylay,

  For a shame that was lying, of a lief man of men;

  But the kinsman of Hemming, he hinder’d it surely.

  Yet the drinkers of ale otherwise said they;

  That folk-bales, which were lesser, she framed forsooth,

  Lesser enmity-malice, since thence erst she was

  Given gold-deck’d to the young one of champions,

  She the dear of her lineage, since Offa’s floor

  Over the fallow flood by the lore of her father 1950

  She sought in her wayfaring. Well was she sithence

  There on the man-throne mighty with good;

  Her shaping of life well brooked she living;

  High love she held toward the lord of the heroes;

  Of all kindred of men by the hearsay of me

  The best of all was he the twain seas beside,

  Of the measureless kindred; thereof Offa was

  For gifts and for war, the spear-keen of men,

  Full widely beworthy’d, with wisdom he held

  The land of his heritage. Thence awoke Eomær 1960

  For a help unto heroes, the kinsman of Hemming,

  The grandson of Garmund, the crafty in war-strife.

  XXIX. BEOWULF TELLS HYGELAC OF HROTHGAR: ALSO OF FREAWARU HIS DAUGHTER.

  Went his ways then the hard one, and he with his hand-shoal,

  Himself over the sand the sea-plain a-treading,

  The warths wide away; shone the world’s candle,

  The sun slop’d from the southward; so dreed they their journey,

  And went their ways stoutly unto where the earls’ refuge,

  The banesman of Ongentheow all in his burgs there,

  The young king of war, the good, as they heard it.

  Was dealing the rings. Aright unto Hygelac 1970

  Was Beowulf’s speeding made knowen full swiftly,

  That there into the house-place that hedge of the warriors,

  His mate of the linden-board, living was come,

  Hale from the battle-play home to him houseward.

  Then rathe was beroomed, as the rich one was bidding,

  For the guests a-foot going the floor all withinward.

  Then sat in the face of him he from the fight sav’d,

  Kinsman by kinsman, whenas his man-lord

  In fair-sounding speech had greeted the faithful

  With mightyful words. With mead-skinking turned 1980

  Through the high house adown the daughter of Hæreth:

  The people she loved: the wine-bucket bare she

  To the hands of the men. But now fell to Hygelac

  His very house-fellow in that hall the high

  To question full fairly, for wit-lust to-brake him,

  Of what like were the journeys the Sea-Geats had wended:

  How befell you the sea-lode, O Beowulf lief,

  When thou on a sudden bethoughtst thee afar

  Over the salt water the strife to be seeking,

  The battle in Hart? or for Hrothgar forsooth 1990

  The wide-kenned woe some whit didst thou mend,

  For that mighty of lords? I therefore the mood-
care

  In woe-wellings seethed; trow’d not in the wending

  Of thee the lief man. A long while did I pray thee

  That thou the death-guest there should greet not a whit;

  Wouldst let those same South-Danes their own selves to settle

  The war-tide with Grendel. Now to God say I thank

  That thee, and thee sound, now may I see.

  Out then spake Beowulf, Ecgtheow’s bairn:

  All undark it is, O Hygelac lord, 2000

  That meeting the mighty, to a many of men;

  Of what like was the meeting of Grendel and me

  On that field of the deed, where he many a deal

  For the Victory-Scyldings of sorrow had framed,

  And misery for ever; but all that I awreaked,

  So that needeth not boast any kinsman of Grendel

  Any one upon earth of that uproar of dawn-dusk,

  Nay not who lives longest of that kindred the loathly

  Encompass’d of fenland. Thither first did I come

  Unto that ring-hall Hrothgar to greet; 2010

  Soon unto me the great Healfdene’s son,

  So soon as my heart he was wotting forsooth.

  Right against his own son a settle there showed.

  All that throng was in joy, nor life-long saw I ever

  Under vault of the heavens amidst any hall-sitters

  More mirth of the mead. There the mighty Queen whiles,

  Peace-sib of the folk, went all over the floor,

  To the young sons bade heart up; oft she there the ring-wreath

  Gave unto a man ere to settle she wended.

  At whiles fore the doughty the daughter of Hrothgar 2020

  To the earls at the end the ale-bucket bore;

  E’en she whom Freawaru the floor-sitters thereat

  Heard I to name; where she the nail’d treasure

  Gave to the warriors. She was behight then

  Youngling and gold-dight to the glad son of Froda.

  This hath seemed fair to the friend of the Scyldings,

  The herd of the realm, and good rede he accounts it,

  That he with that wife of death-feuds a deal

  And of strifes should allay. Oft unseldom eachwhere

  After a lord’s fall e’en but for a little 2030

  Bows down the bane-spear, though doughty the bride be.

  XXX. BEOWULF FOREBODES ILL FROM THE WEDDING OF FREAWARU: HE TELLS OF GRENDEL AND HIS DAM.

  Ill-liking this may be to the lord of the Heathobards,

  And to each of the thanes of that same people.

  When he with fair bride on the floor of hall wendeth,

  That the Dane’s noble bairn his doughty should wait on,