Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

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Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series Page 52

by Beowulf


  stān-beorh stēapne: stīg under læg,

  2215 eldum uncūð. Þǣr on innan gīong

  in the dark of night, a Dragon, to rage.

  In the grave on the hill a hoard it guarded,

  in the stone-barrow steep. A strait path reached it,

  unknown to mortals. Some man, however,

  2215 came by chance that cave within

  niða nāt-hwylces nēode gefēng

  hǣðnum horde hond . d . . geþ . . hwylc

  since fāhne, hē þæt syððan . . . . .

  . . . þ . . . lð . þ . . l . g

  2220 slǣpende be fy¯re, fyrena hyrde

  þēofes cræfte, þæt sie . . . . ðioð . . . . .

  . idh . folc-beorn, þæt hē gebolgen wæs.

  to the heathen hoard. In hand he took

  a golden goblet, nor gave he it back,

  stole with it away, while the watcher slept,

  by thievish wiles: for the warden’s wrath

  2220 prince and people must pay betimes!

  XXXII. THE FIRE-DRAKE. THE HOARD.

  Nealles mid geweoldum wyrm-horda . . . cræft

  sōhte sylfes willum, sē þe him sāre gesceōd,

  2225 ac for þrēa-nēdlan þēow nāt-hwylces

  That way he went with no will of his own,

  in danger of life, to the dragon’s hoard,

  but for pressure of peril, some prince’s thane.

  He fled in fear the fatal scourge,

  2225 seeking shelter, a sinful man,

  hæleða bearna hete-swengeas flēah,

  for ofer-þearfe and þǣr inne fealh

  secg syn-bysig. Sōna in þā tīde

  þæt . . . . . þām gyste . . . . br . g . stōd,

  2230 hwæðre earm-sceapen . . . . . . .

  and entered in. At the awful sight

  tottered that guest, and terror seized him;

  yet the wretched fugitive rallied anon

  from fright and fear ere he fled away,

  2230 and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.

  . . ð . . . sceapen o . . . . i r . . e se fǣs begeat,

  sinc-fæt geseah: þǣr wæs swylcra fela

  in þām eorð-scræfe ǣr-gestrēona,

  swā hy¯ on geār-dagum gumena nāt-hwylc

  2235 eormen-lāfe æðelan cynnes

  Of such besides there was store enough,

  heirlooms old, the earth below,

  which some earl forgotten, in ancient years,

  left the last of his lofty race,

  2235 heedfully there had hidden away,

  þanc-hycgende þǣr gehy¯dde,

  dēore māðmas. Ealle hīe dēað fornam

  ǣrran mǣlum, and se ān þā gēn

  lēoda duguðe, sē þǣr lengest hwearf,

  2240 weard wine-geōmor wīscte þæs yldan,

  dearest treasure. For death of yore

  had hurried all hence; and he alone

  left to live, the last of the clan,

  weeping his friends, yet wished to bide

  2240 warding the treasure, his one delight,

  þæt hē ly¯tel fæc long-gestrēona

  brūcan mōste. Beorh eal gearo

  wunode on wonge wæter-y¯ðum nēah,

  nīwe be næsse nearo-cræftum fæst:

  2245 þǣr on innan bær eorl-gestrēona

  though brief his respite. The barrow, new-ready,

  to strand and sea-waves stood anear,

  hard by the headland, hidden and closed;

  there laid within it his lordly heirlooms

  2245 and heapéd hoard of heavy gold

  hringa hyrde hard-fyrdne dǣl

  fǣttan goldes, fēa worda cwæð:

  “Heald þū nū, hrūse, nū hæleð ne mōston,

  “eorla ǣhte. Hwæt! hit ǣr on þē

  2250 “gōde begeāton; gūð-dēað fornam,

  that warden of rings. Few words he spake: —

  “Now hold thou, earth, since heroes may not,

  what earls have owned! Lo, erst from thee

  brave men brought it! But battle-death seized

  2250 and cruel killing my clansmen all,

  “feorh-bealo frēcne fy¯ra gehwylcne,

  “lēoda mīnra, þāra þe þis līf ofgeaf,

  “gesāwon sele-drēam. Nāh hwā sweord wege

  “oððe fetige fǣted wǣge,

  2255 “drync-fæt dēore: duguð ellor scōc.

  robbed them of life and a liegeman’s joys.

  None have I left to lift the sword,

  or to cleanse the carven cup of price,

  beaker bright. My brave are gone.

  2255 And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold,

  “Sceal se hearda helm hyrsted golde

  “fǣtum befeallen: feormiend swefað,

  “þā þe beado-grīman by¯wan sceoldon,

  “gē swylce sēo here-pād, sīo æt hilde gebād

  2260 “ofer borda gebræc bite īrena,

  shall part from its plating. Polishers sleep

  who could brighten and burnish the battle-mask;

  and those weeds of war that were wont to brave

  over bicker of shields the bite of steel

  2260 rust with their bearer. The ringéd mail

  “brosnað æfter beorne. Ne mæg byrnan hring

  “æfter wīg-fruman wīde fēran

  “hæleðum be healfe; næs hearpan wyn,

  “gomen glēo-bēames, nē gōd hafoc

  2265 “geond sæl swingeð, nē se swifta mearh

  fares not far with famous chieftain,

  at side of hero! No harp’s delight,

  no glee-wood’s gladness! No good hawk now

  flies through the hall! Nor horses fleet

  2265 stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death

  “burh-stede bēateð. Bealo-cwealm hafað

  “fela feorh-cynna feorr onsended!”

  Swā giōmor-mōd giohðo mǣnde,

  ān æfter eallum unblīðe hwēop,

  2270 dæges and nihtes, oð þæt dēaðes wylm

  the flower of my race have reft away.”

  Mournful of mood, thus he moaned his woe,

  alone, for them all, and unblithe wept

  by day and by night, till death’s fell wave

  2270 o’erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss

  hrān æt heortan. Hord-wynne fond

  eald ūht-sceaða opene standan,

  sē þe byrnende biorgas sēceð

  nacod nīð-draca, nihtes flēogeð

  2275 fy¯re befangen; hyne fold-būend

  that old ill-doer open found,

  who, blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth,

  naked foe-dragon flying by night

  folded in fire: the folk of earth

  2275 dread him sore. ’Tis his doom to seek

  wīde gesāwon. Hē gēwunian sceall

  hlāw under hrūsan, þǣr hē hǣðen gold

  warað wintrum frōd; ne byð him wihte þē sēl.

  Swā se þēod-sceaða þrēo hund wintra

  2280 hēold on hrūsan hord-ærna sum

  hoard in the graves, and heathen gold

  to watch, many- wintered: nor wins he thereby!

  Powerful this plague-of-the-people thus

  held the house of the hoard in earth

  2280 three hundred winters; till One aroused

  ēacen-cræftig, oð þæt hyne ān ābealh

  mon on mōde: man-dryhtne bær

  fǣted wǣge, frioðo-wǣre bæd

  hlāford sīnne. Þā wæs hord rāsod,

  2285 onboren bēaga hord, bēne getīðad

  wrath in his breast, to the ruler bearing

  that costly cup, and the king implored

  for bond of peace. So the barrow was plundered,

  borne off was booty. His boon was granted

  2285 that wretched man; and his ruler saw

  fēa-sceaftum men. Frēa scēawode

  fīra fyrn-geweorc forman sīðe.
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  Þā se wyrm onwōc, wrōht wæs genīwad;

  stonc þā æfter stāne, stearc-heort onfand

  2290 fēondes fōt-lāst; hē tō forð gestōp,

  first time what was fashioned in far-off days.

  When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled.

  O’er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found

  footprint of foe who so far had gone

  2290 in his hidden craft by the creature’s head. —

  dyrnan cræfte, dracan hēafde nēah.

  Swā mæg unfǣge ēaðe gedīgan

  wēan and wræc-sīð, sē þe waldendes

  hyldo gehealdeð. Hord-weard sōhte

  2295 georne æfter grunde, wolde guman findan,

  So may the undoomed easily flee

  evils and exile, if only he gain

  the grace of The Wielder! — That warden of gold

  o’er the ground went seeking, greedy to find

  2295 the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.

  þone þe him on sweofote sāre getēode:

  hāt and hrēoh-mōd hlǣw oft ymbe hwearf,

  ealne ūtan-weardne; nē þǣr ǣnig mon

  wæs on þǣre wēstenne. Hwæðre hilde gefeh,

  2300 beado-weorces: hwīlum on beorh æthwearf,

  Savage and burning, the barrow he circled

  all without; nor was any there,

  none in the waste. . . . Yet war he desired,

  was eager for battle. The barrow he entered,

  2300 sought the cup, and discovered soon

  sinc-fæt sōhte; hē þæt sōna onfand,

  þæt hæfde gumena sum goldes gefandod

  hēah-gestrēona. Hord-weard onbād

  earfoðlīce, oð þæt ǣfen cwōm;

  2305 wæs þā gebolgen beorges hyrde,

  that some one of mortals had searched his treasure,

  his lordly gold. The guardian waited

  ill-enduring till evening came;

  boiling with wrath was the barrow’s keeper,

  2305 and fain with flame the foe to pay

  wolde se lāða līge forgyldan

  drinc-fæt dy¯re. Þā wæs dæg sceacen

  wyrme on willan, nō on wealle leng

  bīdan wolde, ac mid bǣle fōr,

  2310 fy¯re gefy¯sed. Wæs se fruma egeslīc

  for the dear cup’s loss. — Now day was fled

  as the worm had wished. By its wall no more

  was it glad to bide, but burning flew

  folded in flame: a fearful beginning

  2310 for sons of the soil; and soon it came,

  lēodum on lande, swā hyt lungre wearð

  on hyra sinc-gifan sāre geendod.

  in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.

  XXXIII. BEOWULF RESOLVES TO KILL THE FIRE-DRAKE.

  Þā se gæst ongan glēdum spīwan,

  beorht hofu bærnan; bryne-lēoma stōd

  2315 eldum on andan; nō þǣr āht cwices

  Then the baleful fiend its fire belched out,

  and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high

  all landsfolk frighting. No living thing

  2315 would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.

  lāð lyft-floga lǣfan wolde.

  Wæs þæs wyrmes wīg wīde gesy¯ne,

  nearo-fāges nīð nēan and feorran,

  hū se gūð-sceaða Gēata lēode

  2320 hatode and hy¯nde: hord eft gescēat,

  Wide was the dragon’s warring seen,

  its fiendish fury far and near,

  as the grim destroyer those Geatish people

  hated and hounded. To hidden lair,

  2320 to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.

  dryht-sele dyrnne ǣr dæges hwīle.

  Hæfde land-wara līge befangen,

  bǣle and bronde; beorges getruwode,

  wīges and wealles: him sēo wēn gelēah.

  2325 Þā wæs Bīowulfe brōga gecy¯ðed

  Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,

  with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,

  its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!

  To Beowulf then the bale was told

  2325 quickly and truly: the king’s own home,

  snūde tō sōðe, þæt his sylfes him

  bolda sēlest bryne-wylmum mealt,

  gif-stōl Gēata. Þæt þām gōdan wæs

  hrēow on hreðre, hyge-sorga mǣst:

  2330 wēnde se wīsa, þæt hē wealdende,

  of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,

  that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old man

  sad in heart, ’twas heaviest sorrow.

  The sage assumed that his sovran God

  2330 he had angered, breaking ancient law,

  ofer ealde riht, ēcean dryhtne

  bitre gebulge: brēost innan wēoll

  þēostrum geþoncum, swā him geþy¯we ne wæs.

  Hæfde līg-draca lēoda fæsten,

  2335 ēa-lond ūtan, eorð-weard þone

  and embittered the Lord. His breast within

  with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.

  The folk’s own fastness that fiery dragon

  with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all

  2335 washed by waves; but the warlike king,

  glēdum forgrunden. Him þæs gūð-cyning,

  Wedera þīoden, wræce leornode.

  Heht him þā gewyrcean wīgendra hlēo

  eall-īrenne, eorla dryhten

  2340 wīg-bord wrǣtlīc; wisse hē gearwe,

  prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.

  Warriors’-bulwark, he bade them work

  all of iron — the earl’s commander —

  a war-shield wondrous: well he knew

  2340 that forest-wood against fire were worthless,

  þæt him holt-wudu helpan ne meahte,

  lind wið līge. Sceolde lǣn-daga

  æðeling ǣr-gōd ende gebīdan

  worulde līfes and se wyrm somod;

  2345 þēah þe hord-welan hēolde lange.

  linden could aid not. — Atheling brave,

  he was fated to finish this fleeting life,

  his days on earth, and the dragon with him,

  though long it had watched o’er the wealth of the hoard! —

  2345 Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,

  Oferhogode þā hringa fengel,

  þæt hē þone wīd-flogan weorode gesōhte,

  sīdan herge; nō hē him þā sæcce ondrēd,

  nē him þæs wyrmes wīg for wiht dyde,

  2350 eafoð and ellen; forþon hē ǣr fela

  to follow the flyer-afar with a host,

  a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,

  nor deemed he dreadful the dragon’s warring,

  its vigor and valor: ventures desperate

  2350 he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,

  nearo nēðende nīða gedīgde,

  hilde-hlemma, syððan hē Hrōðgāres,

  sigor-ēadig secg, sele fǣlsode

  and æt gūðe forgrāp Grendeles mǣgum,

  2355 lāðan cynnes. Nō þæt lǣsest wæs

  contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,

  Hrothgar’s hall he had wholly purged,

  and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,

  loathsome breed! Not least was that

  2355 of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,

  hond-gemota, þǣr mon Hygelāc slōh,

  syððan Gēata cyning gūðe rǣsum,

  frēa-wine folces Frēslondum on,

  Hrēðles eafora hioro-dryncum swealt,

  2360 bille gebēaten; þonan Bīowulf cōm

  when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,

  lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,

  son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts died,

  by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fled

  2360 through strength of himself and his swimming power,
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  sylfes cræfte, sund-nytte drēah;

  hæfde him on earme ... XXX

  hilde-geatwa, þā hē tō holme stāg.

  Nealles Hetware hrēmge þorfton

  2365 fēðe-wīges, þē him foran ongēan

  though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty

  coats of mail, when he came to the sea!

  Nor yet might Hetwaras haughtily boast

  their craft of contest, who carried against him

  2365 shields to the fight: but few escaped

  linde bǣron: ly¯t eft becwōm

  fram þām hild-frecan hāmes nīosan.

  Oferswam þā sioleða bigong sunu Ecgþēowes,

  earm ān-haga eft tō lēodum,

  2370 þǣr him Hygd gebēad hord and rīce,

  from strife with the hero to seek their homes!

  Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow’s son

  lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,

  where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,

  2370 rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught

  bēagas and brego-stōl: bearne ne truwode,

  þæt hē wið æl-fylcum ēðel-stōlas

  healdan cūðe, þā wæs Hygelāc dēad.

  Nō þy¯ ǣr fēa-sceafte findan meahton

  2375 æt þām æðelinge ǣnige þinga,

  the strength of her son to save their kingdom

  from hostile hordes, after Hygelac’s death.

  No sooner for this could the stricken ones

  in any wise move that atheling’s mind

  2375 over young Heardred’s head as lord

  þæt hē Heardrēde hlāford wǣre,

  oððe þone cyne-dōm cīosan wolde;

  hwæðre hē him on folce frēond-lārum hēold,

  ēstum mid āre, oð þæt hē yldra wearð,

  2380 Weder-Gēatum wēold. Hyne wræc-mæcgas

  and ruler of all the realm to be:

  yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,

  aided in honor, till, older grown,

  he wielded the Weder-Geats. — Wandering exiles

  2380 sought him o’er seas, the sons of Ohtere,

  ofer sǣ sōhtan, suna Ōhteres:

  hæfdon hy¯ forhealden helm Scylfinga,

  þone sēlestan sǣ-cyninga,

  þāra þe in Swīo-rīce sinc brytnade,

  2385 mǣrne þēoden. Him þæt tō mearce wearð;

  who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings’-helmet,

  the bravest and best that broke the rings,

  in Swedish land, of the sea-kings’ line,

  haughty hero. Hence Heardred’s end.

  2385 For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,

  hē þǣr orfeorme feorh-wunde hlēat

  sweordes swengum, sunu Hygelāces;

  and him eft gewāt Ongenþīowes bearn

  hāmes nīosan, syððan Heardrēd læg;

  2390 lēt þone brego-stōl Bīowulf healdan,

  Gēatum wealdan: þæt wæs gōd cyning.

 

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