Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series
Page 52
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.