by Beowulf
syn-dolh sweotol, seonowe onsprungon
burston bān-locan. Bēowulfe wearð
820 gūð-hrēð gyfeðe; scolde Grendel þonan
took mortal hurt; a mighty wound
showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked,
and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now
the glory was given, and Grendel thence
820 death-sick his den in the dark moor sought,
feorh-sēoc flēon under fen-hleoðu,
sēcean wyn-lēas wīc; wiste þē geornor,
þæt his aldres wæs ende gegongen,
dōgera dæg-rīm. Denum eallum wearð
825 æfter þām wæl-rǣse willa gelumpen.
noisome abode: he knew too well
that here was the last of life, an end
of his days on earth. — To all the Danes
by that bloody battle the boon had come.
825 From ravage had rescued the roving stranger
Hæfde þā gefǣlsod, sē þe ǣr feorran cōm,
snotor and swy¯ð-ferhð sele Hrōðgāres,
genered wið nīðe. Niht-weorce gefeh,
ellen-mǣrðum; hæfde Ēast-Denum
830 Gēat-mecga lēod gilp gelǣsted,
Hrothgar’s hall; the hardy and wise one
had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him,
his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes
had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good,
830 all their sorrow and ills assuaged,
swylce oncy¯ððe ealle gebētte,
inwid-sorge, þē hīe ǣr drugon
and for þrēa-ny¯dum þolian scoldon,
torn unly¯tel. Þæt wæs tācen sweotol,
835 syððan hilde-dēor hond ālegde,
their bale of battle borne so long,
and all the dole they erst endured,
pain a-plenty.— ’Twas proof of this,
when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down,
835 arm and shoulder, — all, indeed,
earm and eaxle (þǣr wæs eal geador
Grendles grāpe) under gēapne hrōf.
of Grendel’s gripe,— ‘neath the gabled roof.
XIV. THE JOY AT HEOROT.
Þā wæs on morgen mīne gefrǣge
ymb þā gif-healle gūð-rinc monig:
840 fērdon folc-togan feorran and nēan
Many at morning, as men have told me,
warriors gathered the gift-hall round,
folk-leaders faring from far and near,
840 o’er wide-stretched ways, the wonder to view,
geond wīd-wegas wundor scēawian,
lāðes lāstas. Nō his līf-gedāl
sārlīc þūhte secga ǣnegum,
þāra þe tīr-lēases trode scēawode,
845 hū hē wērig-mōd on weg þanon,
trace of the traitor. Not troublous seemed
the enemy’s end to any man
who saw by the gait of the graceless foe
how the weary-hearted, away from thence,
845 baffled in battle and banned, his steps
nīða ofercumen, on nicera mere
fǣge and gefly¯med feorh-lāstas bær.
Þǣr wæs on blōde brim weallende,
atol y¯ða geswing eal gemenged
850 hātan heolfre, heoro-drēore wēol;
death-marked dragged to the devils’ mere.
Bloody the billows were boiling there,
turbid the tide of tumbling waves
horribly seething, with sword-blood hot,
850 by that doomed one dyed, who in den of the moor
dēað-fǣge dēog, siððan drēama lēas
in fen-freoðo feorh ālegde
hǣðene sāwle, þǣr him hel onfēng.
Þanon eft gewiton eald-gesīðas,
855 swylce geong manig of gomen-wāðe,
laid forlorn his life adown,
his heathen soul, — and hell received it.
Home then rode the hoary clansmen
from that merry journey, and many a youth,
855 on horses white, the hardy warriors,
fram mere mōdge, mēarum rīdan,
beornas on blancum. Þǣr wæs Bēowulfes
mǣrðo mǣned; monig oft gecwæð,
þætte sūð nē norð be sǣm tweonum
860 ofer eormen-grund ōðer nǣnig
back from the mere. Then Beowulf’s glory
eager they echoed, and all averred
that from sea to sea, or south or north,
there was no other in earth’s domain,
860 under vault of heaven, more valiant found,
under swegles begong sēlra nǣre
rond-hæbbendra, rīces wyrðra.
Nē hīe hūru wine-drihten wiht ne lōgon,
glædne Hrōðgār, ac þæt wæs gōd cyning.
865 Hwīlum heaðo-rōfe hlēapan lēton,
of warriors none more worthy to rule!
(On their lord beloved they laid no slight,
gracious Hrothgar: a good king he!)
From time to time, the tried-in-battle
865 their gray steeds set to gallop amain,
on geflīt faran fealwe mēaras,
þǣr him fold-wegas fægere þūhton,
cystum cūðe; hwīlum cyninges þegn,
guma gilp-hlæden gidda gemyndig,
870 sē þe eal-fela eald-gesegena
and ran a race when the road seemed fair.
From time to time, a thane of the king,
who had made many vaunts, and was mindful of verses,
stored with sagas and songs of old,
870 bound word to word in well-knit rime,
worn gemunde, word ōðer fand
sōðe gebunden: secg eft ongan
sīð Bēowulfes snyttrum styrian
and on spēd wrecan spel gerāde,
875 wordum wrixlan, wēl-hwylc gecwæð,
welded his lay; this warrior soon
of Beowulf’s quest right cleverly sang,
and artfully added an excellent tale,
in well-ranged words, of the warlike deeds
875 he had heard in saga of Sigemund.
þæt hē fram Sigemunde secgan hy¯rde,
ellen-dǣdum, uncūðes fela,
Wælsinges gewin, wīde sīðas,
þāra þe gumena bearn gearwe ne wiston,
880 fǣhðe and fyrene, būton Fitela mid hine,
Strange the story: he said it all, —
the Wælsing’s wanderings wide, his struggles,
which never were told to tribes of men,
the feuds and the frauds, save to Fitela only,
880 when of these doings he deigned to speak,
þonne hē swylces hwæt secgan wolde
ēam his nefan, swā hīe ā wǣron
æt nīða gehwām ny¯d-gesteallan:
hæfdon eal-fela eotena cynnes
885 sweordum gesǣged. Sigemunde gesprong
uncle to nephew; as ever the twain
stood side by side in stress of war,
and multitude of the monster kind
they had felled with their swords. Of Sigemund grew,
885 when he passed from life, no little praise;
æfter dēað-dæge dōm unly¯tel,
syððan wīges heard wyrm ācwealde,
hordes hyrde; hē under hārne stān,
æðelinges bearn, āna genēðde
890 frēcne dǣde; ne wæs him Fitela mid.
for the doughty-in-combat a dragon killed
that herded the hoard: under hoary rock
the atheling dared the deed alone,
fearful quest, nor was Fitela there.
890 Yet so it befell, his falchion pierced
Hwæðre him gesǣlde, þæt þæt swurd þurhwōd
wrǣtlīcne wyrm, þæt hit on wealle ætstōd,
dryhtlīc īren; draca morðre swealt.
Hæfde āglǣca elne gegongen,
895 þæt hē bēah-hordes brūc
an mōste
that wondrous worm; — on the wall it struck,
best blade; the dragon died in its blood.
Thus had the dread-one by daring achieved
over the ring-hoard to rule at will,
895 himself to pleasure; a sea-boat he loaded,
selfes dōme: sǣ-bāt gehlōd,
bær on bearm scipes beorhte frætwa,
Wælses eafera; wyrm hāt gemealt.
Sē wæs wreccena wīde mǣrost
900 ofer wer-þēode, wīgendra hlēo
and bore on its bosom the beaming gold,
son of Wæls; the worm was consumed.
He had of all heroes the highest renown
among races of men, this refuge-of-warriors,
900 for deeds of daring that decked his name
ellen-dǣdum: hē þæs āron þāh.
Siððan Heremōdes hild sweðrode
eafoð and ellen. Hē mid eotenum wearð
on fēonda geweald forð forlācen,
905 snūde forsended. Hine sorh-wylmas
since the hand and heart of Heremod
grew slack in battle. He, swiftly banished
to mingle with monsters at mercy of foes,
to death was betrayed; for torrents of sorrow
905 had lamed him too long; a load of care
lemede tō lange, hē his lēodum wearð,
eallum æðelingum tō aldor-ceare;
swylce oft bemearn ǣrran mǣlum
swīð-ferhðes sīð snotor ceorl monig,
910 sē þe him bealwa tō bōte gely¯fde,
to earls and athelings all he proved.
Oft indeed, in earlier days,
for the warrior’s wayfaring wise men mourned,
who had hoped of him help from harm and bale,
910 and had thought their sovran’s son would thrive,
þæt þæt þēodnes bearn geþēon scolde,
fæder-æðelum onfōn, folc gehealdan,
hord and hlēo-burh, hæleða rīce,
ēðel Scyldinga. Hē þǣr eallum wearð,
915 mǣg Higelāces manna cynne,
follow his father, his folk protect,
the hoard and the stronghold, heroes’ land,
home of Scyldings. — But here, thanes said,
the kinsman of Hygelac kinder seemed
915 to all: the other was urged to crime!
frēondum gefægra; hine fyren onwōd.
Hwīlum flītende fealwe strǣte
mēarum mǣton. Þā wæs morgen-lēoht
scofen and scynded. Ēode scealc monig
920 swīð-hicgende tō sele þām hēan,
And afresh to the race, the fallow roads
by swift steeds measured! The morning sun
was climbing higher. Clansmen hastened
to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,
920 the wonder to witness. Warden of treasure,
searo-wundor sēon, swylce self cyning,
of bry¯d-būre bēah-horda weard,
tryddode tīr-fæst getrume micle,
cystum gecy¯ðed, and his cwēn mid him
925 medo-stīg gemæt mægða hōse.
crowned with glory, the king himself,
with stately band from the bride-bower strode;
and with him the queen and her crowd of maidens
measured the path to the mead-house fair.
XV. HROTHGAR’S GRATULATION.
Hrōðgār maðelode (hē tō healle gēong,
stōd on stapole, geseah stēapne hrōf
golde fāhne and Grendles hond):
“þisse ansy¯ne al-wealdan þanc
930 “lungre gelimpe! Fela ic lāðes gebād,
925 Hrothgar spake, — to the hall he went,
“grynna æt Grendle: ā mæg god wyrcan
“wunder æfter wundre, wuldres hyrde!
“Þæt wæs ungeāra, þæt ic ǣnigra mē
“wēana ne wēnde tō wīdan feore
935 “bōte gebīdan þonne blōde fāh
stood by the steps, the steep roof saw,
garnished with gold, and Grendel’s hand: —
“For the sight I see to the Sovran Ruler
be speedy thanks! A throng of sorrows
930 I have borne from Grendel; but God still works
“hūsa sēlest heoro-drēorig stōd;
“wēa wīd-scofen witena gehwylcne
“þāra þe ne wēndon, þæt hīe wīde-ferhð
“lēoda land-geweorc lāðum beweredon
940 “scuccum and scinnum. Nū scealc hafað
wonder on wonder, the Warden-of-Glory.
It was but now that I never more
for woes that weighed on me waited help
long as I lived, when, laved in blood,
935 stood sword-gore-stained this stateliest house, —
“þurh drihtnes miht dǣd gefremede,
“þē wē ealle ǣr ne meahton
“snyttrum besyrwan. Hwæt! þæt secgan mæg
“efne swā hwylc mægða, swā þone magan cende
945 “æfter gum-cynnum, gyf hēo gy¯t lyfað,
widespread woe for wise men all,
who had no hope to hinder ever
foes infernal and fiendish sprites
from havoc in hall. This hero now,
940 by the Wielder’s might, a work has done
“þæt hyre eald-metod ēste wǣre
“bearn-gebyrdo. Nū ic Bēowulf
“þec, secg betsta, mē for sunu wylle
“frēogan on ferhðe; heald forð tela
950 “nīwe sibbe. Ne bið þē nǣnigra gād
that not all of us erst could ever do
by wile and wisdom. Lo, well can she say
whoso of women this warrior bore
among sons of men, if still she liveth,
945 that the God of the ages was good to her
“worolde wilna, þē ic geweald hæbbe.
“Ful-oft ic for lǣssan lēan teohhode
“hord-weorðunge hnāhran rince,
“sǣmran æt sæcce. Þū þē self hafast
955 “dǣdum gefremed, þæt þīn dōm lyfað
in the birth of her bairn. Now, Beowulf, thee,
of heroes best, I shall heartily love
as mine own, my son; preserve thou ever
this kinship new: thou shalt never lack
950 wealth of the world that I wield as mine!
“āwa tō aldre. Alwalda þec
“gōde forgylde, swā hē nū gy¯t dyde!”
Bēowulf maðelode, bearn Ecgþēowes:
“Wē þæt ellen-weorc ēstum miclum,
960 “feohtan fremedon, frēcne genēðdon
Full oft for less have I largess showered,
my precious hoard, on a punier man,
less stout in struggle. Thyself hast now
fulfilled such deeds, that thy fame shall endure
955 through all the ages. As ever he did,
“eafoð uncūðes; ūðe ic swīðor,
“þæt þū hinc selfne gesēon mōste,
“fēond on frætewum fyl-wērigne!
“Ic hine hrædlīce heardan clammum
965 “on wæl-bedde wrīðan þōhte,
well may the Wielder reward thee still!”
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: —
“This work of war most willingly
we have fought, this fight, and fearlessly dared
960 force of the foe. Fain, too, were I
“þæt hē for mund-gripe mīnum scolde
“licgean līf-bysig, būtan his līc swice;
“ic hine ne mihte, þā metod nolde,
“ganges getwǣman, nō ic him þæs georne ætfealh,
970 “feorh-genīðlan; wæs tō fore-mihtig
hadst thou but seen himself, what time
the fiend in his trappings tottered to fall!
Swiftly, I thought, in strongest gripe
on his bed of death to bind him down,
&nbs
p; 965 that he in the hent of this hand of mine
“fēond on fēðe. Hwæðere hē his folme forlēt
“tō līf-wraðe lāst weardian,
“earm and eaxle; nō þǣr ǣnige swā þēah
“fēa-sceaft guma frōfre gebohte:
975 “nō þy¯ leng leofað lāð-getēona
should breathe his last: but he broke away.
Him I might not — the Maker willed not —
hinder from flight, and firm enough hold
the life-destroyer: too sturdy was he,
970 the ruthless, in running! For rescue, however,
“synnum geswenced, ac hyne sār hafað
“in ny¯d-gripe nearwe befongen,
“balwon bendum: þǣr ābīdan sceal
“maga māne fāh miclan dōmes,
980 “hū him scīr metod scrīfan wille.”
he left behind him his hand in pledge,
arm and shoulder; nor aught of help
could the curséd one thus procure at all.
None the longer liveth he, loathsome fiend,
975 sunk in his sins, but sorrow holds him
Þā wæs swīgra secg, sunu Ecglāfes,
on gylp-sprǣce gūð-geweorca,
siððan æðelingas eorles cræfte
ofer hēahne hrōf hand scēawedon,
985 fēondes fingras, foran ǣghwylc;
tightly grasped in gripe of anguish,
in baleful bonds, where bide he must,
evil outlaw, such awful doom
as the Mighty Maker shall mete him out.”
980 More silent seemed the son of Ecglaf
wæs stēde nægla gehwylc, sty¯le gelīcost,
hǣðenes hand-sporu hilde-rinces
egle unhēoru; ǣg-hwylc gecwæð,
þæt him heardra nān hrīnan wolde
990 īren ǣr-gōd, þæt þæs āhlǣcan
in boastful speech of his battle-deeds,
since athelings all, through the earl’s great prowess,
beheld that hand, on the high roof gazing,
foeman’s fingers, — the forepart of each
985 of the sturdy nails to steel was likest, —
blōdge beadu-folme onberan wolde.
heathen’s “hand-spear,” hostile warrior’s
claw uncanny. ’Twas clear, they said,
that him no blade of the brave could touch,
how keen soever, or cut away
990 that battle-hand bloody from baneful foe.
XVI. THE BANQUET AND THE GIFTS.
Þā wæs hāten hreðe Heort innan-weard
folmum gefrætwod: fela þǣra wæs
wera and wīfa, þē þæt wīn-reced,
995 gest-sele gyredon. Gold-fāg scinon
There was hurry and hest in Heorot now
for hands to bedeck it, and dense was the throng
of men and women the wine-hall to cleanse,
the guest-room to garnish. Gold-gay shone the hangings
