Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

by Beowulf

  1345 “sē þe ēow wēl-hwylcra wilna dohte.

  so that many a thane shall think, who e’er

  sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings,

  this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies low

  that once was willing each wish to please.

  1345 Land-dwellers here and liegemen mine,

  “Ic þæt lond-būend lēode mīne

  “sele-rǣdende secgan hy¯rde,

  “þæt hīe gesāwon swylce twēgen

  “micle mearc-stapan mōras healdan,

  1350 “ellor-gǣstas: þǣra ōðer wæs,

  who house by those parts, I have heard relate

  that such a pair they have sometimes seen,

  march-stalkers mighty the moorland haunting,

  wandering spirits: one of them seemed,

  1350 so far as my folk could fairly judge,

  “þæs þe hīe gewislīcost gewitan meahton,

  “idese onlīcnes, ōðer earm-sceapen

  “on weres wæstmum wræc-lāstas træd,

  “næfne hē wæs māra þonne ǣnig man ōðer,

  1355 “þone on geār-dagum Grendel nemdon

  of womankind; and one, accursed,

  in man’s guise trod the misery-track

  of exile, though huger than human bulk.

  Grendel in days long gone they named him,

  1355 folk of the land; his father they knew not,

  “fold-būende: nō hīe fæder cunnon,

  “hwæðer him ǣnig wæs ǣr ācenned

  “dyrnra gāsta. Hīe dy¯gel lond

  “warigeað, wulf-hleoðu, windige næssas,

  1360 “frēcne fen-gelād, þǣr fyrgen-strēam

  nor any brood that was born to him

  of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home;

  by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,

  fenways fearful, where flows the stream

  1360 from mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks,

  “under næssa genipu niðer gewīteð,

  “flōd under foldan; nis þæt feor heonon

  “mīl-gemearces, þæt se mere standeð,

  “ofer þǣm hongiað hrīmge bearwas,

  1365 “wudu wyrtum fæst, wæter oferhelmað.

  underground flood. Not far is it hence

  in measure of miles that the mere expands,

  and o’er it the frost-bound forest hanging,

  sturdily rooted, shadows the wave.

  1365 By night is a wonder weird to see,

  “Þǣr mæg nihta gehwǣm nīð-wundor sēon,

  “fy¯r on flōde; nō þæs frōd leofað

  “gumena bearna, þæt þone grund wite;

  “þēah þe hǣð-stapa hundum geswenced,

  1370 “heorot hornum trum holt-wudu sēce,

  fire on the waters. So wise lived none

  of the sons of men, to search those depths!

  Nay, though the heath-rover, harried by dogs,

  the horn-proud hart, this holt should seek,

  1370 long distance driven, his dear life first

  “feorran gefly¯med, ǣr hē feorh seleð,

  “aldor on ōfre, ǣr hē in wille,

  “hafelan hy¯dan. Nis þæt hēoru stōw:

  “þonon y¯ð-geblond up āstīgeð

  1375 “won tō wolcnum, þonne wind styreð

  on the brink he yields ere he brave the plunge

  to hide his head: ’tis no happy place!

  Thence the welter of waters washes up

  wan to welkin when winds bestir

  1375 evil storms, and air grows dusk,

  “lāð gewidru, oð þæt lyft drysmað,

  “roderas rēotað. Nū is rǣd gelang

  “eft æt þē ānum! Eard gīt ne const,

  “frēcne stōwe, þǣr þū findan miht

  1380 “sinnigne secg: sēc gif þū dyrre!

  and the heavens weep. Now is help once more

  with thee alone! The land thou knowst not,

  place of fear, where thou findest out

  that sin-flecked being. Seek if thou dare!

  1380 I will reward thee, for waging this fight,

  “Ic þē þā fǣhðe fēo lēanige,

  “eald-gestrēonum, swā ic ǣr dyde,

  “wundnum golde, gyf þū on weg cymest.”

  with ancient treasure, as erst I did,

  with winding gold, if thou winnest back.”

  XXII. BĒOWULF SEEKS THE MONSTER IN THE HAUNTS OF THE NIXIES.

  Bēowulf maðelode, bearn Ecgþēowes:

  1385 “Ne sorga, snotor guma! sēlre bið ǣghwǣm,

  Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:

  “Sorrow not, sage! It beseems us better

  1385 friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them.

  “þæt hē his frēond wrece, þonne hē fela murne;

  “ūre ǣghwylc sceal ende gebīdan

  “worolde līfes; wyrce sē þe mōte

  “dōmes ǣr dēaðe! þæt bið driht-guman

  1390 “unlifgendum æfter sēlest.

  Each of us all must his end abide

  in the ways of the world; so win who may

  glory ere death! When his days are told,

  that is the warrior’s worthiest doom.

  1390 Rise, O realm-warder! Ride we anon,

  “Ārīs, rīces weard; uton hraðe fēran,

  “Grendles māgan gang scēawigan!

  “Ic hit þē gehāte: nō hē on helm losað,

  “nē on foldan fæðm, nē on fyrgen-holt,

  1395 “nē on gyfenes grund, gā þǣr hē wille.

  and mark the trail of the mother of Grendel.

  No harbor shall hide her — heed my promise! —

  enfolding of field or forested mountain

  or floor of the flood, let her flee where she will!

  1395 But thou this day endure in patience,

  “Þy¯s dōgor þū geþyld hafa

  “wēana gehwylces, swā ic þē wēne tō!”

  Āhlēop þā se gomela, gode þancode,

  mihtigan drihtne, þæs se man gespræc.

  1400 Þā wæs Hrōðgāre hors gebǣted,

  as I ween thou wilt, thy woes each one.”

  Leaped up the graybeard: God he thanked,

  mighty Lord, for the man’s brave words.

  For Hrothgar soon a horse was saddled

  1400 wave-maned steed. The sovran wise

  wicg wunden-feax. Wīsa fengel

  geatolīc gengde; gum-fēða stōp

  lind-hæbbendra. Lāstas wǣron

  æfter wald-swaðum wīde gesy¯ne,

  1405 gang ofer grundas; gegnum fōr þā

  stately rode on; his shield-armed men

  followed in force. The footprints led

  along the woodland, widely seen,

  a path o’er the plain, where she passed, and trod

  1405 the murky moor; of men-at-arms

  ofer myrcan mōr, mago-þegna bær

  þone sēlestan sāwol-lēasne,

  þāra þe mid Hrōðgāre hām eahtode.

  Ofer-ēode þā æðelinga bearn

  1410 stēap stān-hliðo, stīge nearwe,

  she bore the bravest and best one, dead,

  him who with Hrothgar the homestead ruled.

  On then went the atheling-born

  o’er stone-cliffs steep and strait defiles,

  1410 narrow passes and unknown ways,

  enge ān-paðas, un-cūð gelād,

  neowle næssas, nicor-hūsa fela;

  hē fēara sum beforan gengde

  wīsra monna, wong scēawian,

  1415 oð þæt hē fǣringa fyrgen-bēamas

  headlands sheer, and the haunts of the Nicors.

  Foremost he fared, a few at his side

  of the wiser men, the ways to scan,

  till he found in a flash the forested hill

  1415 hanging over the hoary rock,

  ofer hārne stān hleonian funde,

  wyn-lēasne wudu; wæter un
der stōd

  drēorig and gedrēfed. Denum eallum wæs,

  winum Scyldinga, weorce on mōde,

  1420 tō geþolianne þegne monegum,

  a woful wood: the waves below

  were dyed in blood. The Danish men

  had sorrow of soul, and for Scyldings all,

  for many a hero, ’twas hard to bear,

  1420 ill for earls, when Æschere’s head

  oncy¯ð eorla gehwǣm, syððan Æsc-heres

  on þām holm-clife hafelan mētton.

  Flōd blōde wēol (folc tō sǣgon)

  hātan heolfre. Horn stundum song

  1425 fūslīc fyrd-lēoð. Fēða eal gesæt;

  they found by the flood on the foreland there.

  Waves were welling, the warriors saw,

  hot with blood; but the horn sang oft

  battle-song bold. The band sat down,

  1425 and watched on the water worm-like things,

  gesāwon þā æfter wætere wyrm-cynnes fela,

  sellīce sǣ-dracan sund cunnian,

  swylce on næs-hleoðum nicras licgean,

  þā on undern-mǣl oft bewitigað

  1430 sorh-fulne sīð on segl-rāde,

  sea-dragons strange that sounded the deep,

  and nicors that lay on the ledge of the ness —

  such as oft essay at hour of morn

  on the road-of-sails their ruthless quest, —

  1430 and sea-snakes and monsters. These started away,

  wyrmas and wil-dēor; hīe on weg hruron

  bitere and gebolgne, bearhtm ongeāton,

  gūð-horn galan. Sumne Gēata lēod

  of flān-bogan fēores getwǣfde,

  1435 y¯ð-gewinnes, þæt him on aldre stōd

  swollen and savage that song to hear,

  that war-horn’s blast. The warden of Geats,

  with bolt from bow, then balked of life,

  of wave-work, one monster; amid its heart

  1435 went the keen war-shaft; in water it seemed

  here-strǣl hearda; hē on holme wæs

  sundes þē sǣnra, þē hyne swylt fornam.

  Hræðe wearð on y¯ðum mid eofer-sprēotum

  heoro-hōcyhtum hearde genearwod,

  1440 nīða genǣged and on næs togen

  less doughty in swimming whom death had seized.

  Swift on the billows, with boar-spears well

  hooked and barbed, it was hard beset,

  done to death and dragged on the headland,

  1440 wave-roamer wondrous. Warriors viewed

  wundorlīc wǣg-bora; weras scēawedon

  gryrelīcne gist. Gyrede hine Bēowulf

  eorl-gewǣdum, nalles for ealdre mearn:

  scolde here-byrne hondum gebrōden,

  1445 sīd and searo-fāh, sund cunnian,

  the grisly guest.

  Then girt him Beowulf

  in martial mail, nor mourned for his life.

  His breastplate broad and bright of hues,

  woven by hand, should the waters try;

  1445 well could it ward the warrior’s body

  sēo þe bān-cofan beorgan cūðe,

  þæt him hilde-grāp hreðre ne mihte,

  eorres inwit-feng, aldre gesceððan;

  ac se hwīta helm hafelan werede,

  1450 sē þe mere-grundas mengan scolde,

  that battle should break on his breast in vain

  nor harm his heart by the hand of a foe.

  And the helmet white that his head protected

  was destined to dare, the deeps of the flood,

  1450 through wave-whirl win: ’twas wound with chains,

  sēcan sund-gebland since geweorðad,

  befongen frēa-wrāsnum, swā hine fyrn-dagum

  worhte wǣpna smið, wundrum tēode,

  besette swīn-līcum, þæt hine syððan nō

  1455 brond nē beado-mēcas bītan ne meahton.

  decked with gold, as in days of yore

  the weapon-smith worked it wondrously,

  with swine-forms set it, that swords nowise,

  brandished in battle, could bite that helm.

  1455 Nor was that the meanest of mighty helps

  Næs þæt þonne mǣtost mægen-fultuma,

  þæt him on þearfe lāh þyle Hrōðgāres;

  wæs þǣm hæft-mēce Hrunting nama,

  þæt wæs ān foran eald-gestrēona;

  1460 ecg wæs īren āter-tēarum fāh,

  which Hrothgar’s orator offered at need:

  “Hrunting” they named the hilted sword,

  of old-time heirlooms easily first;

  iron was its edge, all etched with poison,

  1460 with battle-blood hardened, nor blenched it at fight

  āhyrded heaðo-swāte; nǣfre hit æt hilde ne swāc

  manna ǣngum þāra þe hit mid mundum bewand,

  sē þe gryre-sīðas gegān dorste,

  folc-stede fāra; næs þæt forma sīð,

  1465 þæt hit ellen-weorc æfnan scolde.

  in hero’s hand who held it ever,

  on paths of peril prepared to go

  to folkstead of foes. Not first time this

  it was destined to do a daring task.

  1465 For he bore not in mind, the bairn of Ecglaf

  Hūru ne gemunde mago Ecglāfes

  eafoðes cræftig, þæt hē ǣr gespræc

  wīne druncen, þā hē þæs wǣpnes onlāh

  sēlran sweord-frecan: selfa ne dorste

  1470 under y¯ða gewin aldre genēðan,

  sturdy and strong, that speech he had made,

  drunk with wine, now this weapon he lent

  to a stouter swordsman. Himself, though, durst not

  under welter of waters wager his life

  1470 as loyal liegeman. So lost he his glory,

  driht-scype drēogan; þǣr hē dōme forlēas,

  ellen-mǣrðum. Ne wæs þǣm ōðrum swā,

  syððan hē hine tō gūðe gegyred hæfde.

  honor of earls. With the other not so,

  who girded him now for the grim encounter.

  XXIII. THE BATTLE WITH THE WATER-DRAKE.

  Bēowulf maðelode, bearn Ecgþēowes:

  1475 “geþenc nū, se mǣra maga Healfdenes,

  Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: —

  “Have mind, thou honored offspring of Healfdene,

  1475 gold-friend of men, now I go on this quest,

  “snottra fengel, nū ic eom sīðes fūs,

  “gold-wine gumena, hwæt wit geō sprǣcon,

  “gif ic æt þearfe þīnre scolde

  “aldre linnan, þæt þū mē ā wǣre

  1480 “forð-gewitenum on fæder stǣle;

  sovran wise, what once was said:

  if in thy cause it came that I

  should lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bide

  to me, though fallen, in father’s place!

  1480 Be guardian, thou, to this group of my thanes,

  “wes þū mund-bora mīnum mago-þegnum,

  “hond-gesellum, gif mec hild nime:

  “swylce þū þā mādmas, þē þū mē sealdest,

  “Hrōðgār lēofa, Higelāce onsend.

  1485 “Mæg þonne on þǣm golde ongitan Gēata dryhten,

  my warrior-friends, if War should seize me;

  and the goodly gifts thou gavest me,

  Hrothgar beloved, to Hygelac send!

  Geatland’s king may ken by the gold,

  1485 Hrethel’s son see, when he stares at the treasure,

  “gesēon sunu Hrēðles, þonne hē on þæt sinc starað,

  “þæt ic gum-cystum gōdne funde

  “bēaga bryttan, brēac þonne mōste.

  “And þū Unferð lǣt ealde lāfe,

  1490 “wrǣtlīc wǣg-sweord wīd-cūðne man

  that I got me a friend for goodness famed,

  and joyed while I could in my jewel-bestower.

  And let Unferth wield this wondrous sword,
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  earl far-honored, this heirloom precious,

  1490 hard of edge: with Hrunting I

  “heard-ecg habban; ic mē mid Hruntinge

  “dōm gewyrce, oððe mec dēað nimeð.”

  Æfter þǣm wordum Weder-Gēata lēod

  efste mid elne, nalas andsware

  1495 bīdan wolde; brim-wylm onfēng

  seek doom of glory, or Death shall take me.”

  After these words the Weder-Geat lord

  boldly hastened, biding never

  answer at all: and ocean floods

  1495 closed o’er the hero. Long while of the day

  hilde-rince. Þā wæs hwīl dæges,

  ǣr hē þone grund-wong ongytan mehte.

  Sōna þæt onfunde, sē þe flōda begong

  heoro-gīfre behēold hund missēra,

  1500 grim and grǣdig, þæt þǣr gumena sum

  fled ere he felt the floor of the sea.

  Soon found the fiend who the flood-domain

  sword-hungry held these hundred winters,

  greedy and grim, that some guest from above,

  1500 some man, was raiding her monster-realm.

  æl-wihta eard ufan cunnode.

  Grāp þā tōgēanes, gūð-rinc gefēng

  atolan clommum; nō þy¯ ǣr in gescōd

  hālan līce: hring ūtan ymb-bearh,

  1505 þæt hēo þone fyrd-hom þurh-fōn ne mihte,

  She grasped out for him with grisly claws,

  and the warrior seized; yet scathed she not

  his body hale; the breastplate hindered,

  as she strove to shatter the sark of war,

  1505 the linkéd harness, with loathsome hand.

  locene leoðo-syrcan lāðan fingrum.

  Bær þā sēo brim-wylf, þā hēo tō botme cōm,

  hringa þengel tō hofe sīnum,

  swā hē ne mihte nō (hē þæs mōdig wæs)

  1510 wǣpna gewealdan, ac hine wundra þæs fela

  Then bore this brine-wolf, when bottom she touched,

  the lord of rings to the lair she haunted,

  whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held,

  weapon to wield against wondrous monsters

  1510 that sore beset him; sea-beasts many

  swencte on sunde, sǣ-dēor monig

  hilde-tūxum here-syrcan bræc,

  ēhton āglǣcan. Þā se eorl ongeat,

  þæt hē in nið-sele nāt-hwylcum wæs,

  1515 þǣr him nǣnig wæter wihte ne sceðede,

  tried with fierce tusks to tear his mail,

  and swarmed on the stranger. But soon he marked

  he was now in some hall, he knew not which,

  where water never could work him harm,

  1515 nor through the roof could reach him ever

  nē him for hrōf-sele hrīnan ne mehte

  fǣr-gripe flōdes: fy¯r-lēoht geseah,

  blācne lēoman beorhte scīnan.