XXV
“UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails –––––––––––––––––––––––—Page 55
from foul behest of the hellish fiend.1
Him seems too little what long he possessed.
Greedy and grim, no golden rings
he gives for his pride; the promised future forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him, Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.
Yet in the end it ever comes
that the frame of the body fragile yields, fated falls; and there follows another
who joyously the jewels divides,
the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear.
Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf dearest, best of men, and the better part choose, profit eternal; and temper thy pride,
warrior famous! The flower of thy might
lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be that sickness or sword thy strength shall minish, or fang of fire, or flooding billow,
or bite of blade, or brandished spear,
or odious age; or the eyes’ clear beam
wax dull and darken: Death even thee
in haste shall o’erwhelm, thou hero of war!
So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I ruled, wielded ‘neath welkin, and warded them bravely from mighty-ones many o’er middle-earth, from spear and sword, till it seemed for me no foe could be found under fold of the sky.
Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure came grief for joy when Grendel began
to harry my home, the hellish foe;
for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked,
Lord Eternal, for life extended
that I on this head all hewn and bloody, after long evil, with eyes may gaze!
— Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet, –––––––––––––––––––––––—Page 56
warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure
at dawn of day, be dealt between us!”
Glad was the Geats’ lord, going betimes
to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded.
Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle, for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened
dusk o’er the drinkers.
The doughty ones rose:
for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest, aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,
shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.
Him wander-weary, warrior-guest
from far, a hall-thane heralded forth,
who by custom courtly cared for all
needs of a thane as in those old days
warrior-wanderers wont to have.
So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven2
blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying
shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened, athelings all were eager homeward
forth to fare; and far from thence
the great-hearted guest would guide his keel.
Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take, excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it, quoth that he counted it keen in battle, “war-friend” winsome: with words he slandered not edge of the blade: ‘twas a big-hearted man!
Now eager for parting and armed at point warriors waited, while went to his host
that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.
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[1] That is, he is now undefended by conscience from the temptations (shafts) of the devil.
[2] Kenning for the sun. — This is a strange role for the raven. He is the warrior’s bird of battle, exults in slaughter and carnage; his joy here is a compliment to the sunrise.
XXVI BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: -“Lo, we seafarers say our will,
far-come men, that we fain would seek
Hygelac now. We here have found
hosts to our heart: thou hast harbored us well.
If ever on earth I am able to win me
more of thy love, O lord of men,
aught anew, than I now have done,
for work of war I am willing still!
If it come to me ever across the seas
that neighbor foemen annoy and fright thee, -as they that hate thee erewhile have used, -thousands then of thanes I shall bring,
heroes to help thee. Of Hygelac I know,
ward of his folk, that, though few his years, the lord of the Geats will give me aid
by word and by work, that well I may serve thee, wielding the war-wood to win thy triumph and lending thee might when thou lackest men.
If thy Hrethric should come to court of Geats, a sovran’s son, he will surely there
find his friends. A far-off land
each man should visit who vaunts him brave.”
Him then answering, Hrothgar spake: -“These words of thine the wisest God
sent to thy soul! No sager counsel
from so young in years e’er yet have I heard.
Thou art strong of main and in mind art wary, art wise in words! I ween indeed
if ever it hap that Hrethel’s heir
by spear be seized, by sword-grim battle, by illness or iron, thine elder and lord, people’s leader, — and life be thine, -no seemlier man will the Sea-Geats find
at all to choose for their chief and king, for hoard-guard of heroes, if hold thou wilt thy kinsman’s kingdom! Thy keen mind pleases me the longer the better, Beowulf loved!
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Thou hast brought it about that both our peoples, sons of the Geat and Spear-Dane folk,
shall have mutual peace, and from murderous strife, such as once they waged, from war refrain.
Long as I rule this realm so wide,
let our hoards be common, let heroes with gold each other greet o’er the gannet’s-bath, and the ringed-prow bear o’er rolling waves tokens of love. I trow my landfolk
towards friend and foe are firmly joined, and honor they keep in the olden way.”
To him in the hall, then, Healfdene’s son gave treasures twelve, and the trust-of-earls bade him fare with the gifts to his folk beloved, hale to his home, and in haste return.
Then kissed the king of kin renowned,
Scyldings’ chieftain, that choicest thane, and fell on his neck. Fast flowed the tears of the hoary-headed. Heavy with winters, he had chances twain, but he clung to this,1 -that each should look on the other again, and hear him in hall. Was this hero so dear to him.
his breast’s wild billows he banned in vain; safe in his soul a secret longing,
locked in his mind, for that loved man
burned in his blood. Then Beowulf strode, glad of his gold-gifts, the grass-plot o’er, warrior blithe. The wave-roamer bode
riding at anchor, its owner awaiting.
As they hastened onward, Hrothgar’s gift they lauded at length. — ‘Twas a lord unpeered, every way blameless, till age had broken — it spareth no mortal — his splendid might.
[1] That is, he might or might not see Beowulf again. Old as he was, the latter chance was likely; but he clung to the former, hoping to see his young friend again “and exchange brave words in the hall.”
XXVII CAME now to ocean the ever-courageous
hardy henchmen, their harness bearing,
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woven war-sarks. The warden marked,
trusty as ever, the earl’s return.
From the height of the hill no hostile words reached the guests as he rode to greet them; but “Welcome!” he called to that Weder clan as the sheen-mailed spoilers to ship marched on.
Then on the strand, with steeds and treasure and armor their roomy and ring-dight ship was heavily laden: high its mast
rose over Hrothgar’s hoarded gems.
A sword to the boat-guard Beowulf gave,
mounted with gold; on the mead-bench since he was better esteemed, that blade possessing, heirloom old. — Their ocean-keel boarding, they drove through the deep, and Daneland left.
A sea-cloth was set, a sail with ropes,
firm to the mast; the flood-timbers moaned;1
nor did wind over billows that wave-swimmer blow across from her course. The craft sped on, foam-necked it floated forth o’er the waves, keel firm-bound over briny currents,
till they got them sight of the Geatish cliffs, home-known headlands. High the boat,
stirred by winds, on the strand updrove.
Helpful at haven the harbor-guard stood, who long already for loved companions
by the water had waited and watched afar.
He bound to the beach the broad-bosomed ship with anchor-bands, lest ocean-billows
that trusty timber should tear away.
Then Beowulf bade them bear the treasure, gold and jewels; no journey far
was it thence to go to the giver of rings, Hygelac Hrethling: at home he dwelt
by the sea-wall close, himself and clan.
Haughty that house, a hero the king,
high the hall, and Hygd2 right young,
wise and wary, though winters few
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in those fortress walls she had found a home, Haereth’s daughter. Nor humble her ways, nor grudged she gifts to the Geatish men, of precious treasure. Not Thryth’s pride showed she, folk-queen famed, or that fell deceit.
Was none so daring that durst make bold
(save her lord alone) of the liegemen dear that lady full in the face to look,
but forged fetters he found his lot,
bonds of death! And brief the respite;
soon as they seized him, his sword-doom was spoken, and the burnished blade a baleful murder proclaimed and closed. No queenly way
for woman to practise, though peerless she, that the weaver-of-peace3 from warrior dear by wrath and lying his life should reave!
But Hemming’s kinsman hindered this. -For over their ale men also told
that of these folk-horrors fewer she wrought, onslaughts of evil, after she went,
gold-decked bride, to the brave young prince, atheling haughty, and Offa’s hall
o’er the fallow flood at her father’s bidding safely sought, where since she prospered, royal, throned, rich in goods,
fain of the fair life fate had sent her, and leal in love to the lord of warriors.
He, of all heroes I heard of ever
from sea to sea, of the sons of earth,
most excellent seemed. Hence Offa was praised for his fighting and feeing by far-off men, the spear-bold warrior; wisely he ruled
over his empire. Eomer woke to him,
help of heroes, Hemming’s kinsman,
Grandson of Garmund, grim in war.
[1] With the speed of the boat.
[2] Queen to Hygelac. She is praised by contrast with the antitype, Thryth, just as Beowulf was praised by contrast with Heremod.
[3] Kenning for “wife.”
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XXVIII HASTENED the hardy one, henchmen with him, sandy strand of the sea to tread
and widespread ways. The world’s great candle, sun shone from south. They strode along
with sturdy steps to the spot they knew
where the battle-king young, his burg within, slayer of Ongentheow, shared the rings,
shelter-of-heroes. To Hygelac
Beowulf’s coming was quickly told, -that there in the court the clansmen’s refuge, the shield-companion sound and alive,
hale from the hero-play homeward strode.
With haste in the hall, by highest order, room for the rovers was readily made.
By his sovran he sat, come safe from battle, kinsman by kinsman. His kindly lord
he first had greeted in gracious form,
with manly words. The mead dispensing,
came through the high hall Haereth’s daughter, winsome to warriors, wine-cup bore
to the hands of the heroes. Hygelac then his comrade fairly with question plied
in the lofty hall, sore longing to know
what manner of sojourn the Sea-Geats made.
“What came of thy quest, my kinsman Beowulf, when thy yearnings suddenly swept thee yonder battle to seek o’er the briny sea,
combat in Heorot? Hrothgar couldst thou
aid at all, the honored chief,
in his wide-known woes? With waves of care my sad heart seethed; I sore mistrusted
my loved one’s venture: long I begged thee by no means to seek that slaughtering monster, but suffer the South-Danes to settle their feud themselves with Grendel. Now God be thanked that safe and sound I can see thee now!”
Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow: -“‘Tis known and unhidden, Hygelac Lord,
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to many men, that meeting of ours,
struggle grim between Grendel and me,
which we fought on the field where full too many sorrows he wrought for the Scylding-Victors, evils unending. These all I avenged.
No boast can be from breed of Grendel,
any on earth, for that uproar at dawn,
from the longest-lived of the loathsome race in fleshly fold! — But first I went
Hrothgar to greet in the hall of gifts,
where Healfdene’s kinsman high-renowned, soon as my purpose was plain to him,
assigned me a seat by his son and heir.
The liegemen were lusty; my life-days never such merry men over mead in hall
have I heard under heaven! The highborn queen, people’s peace-bringer, passed through the hall, cheered the young clansmen, clasps of gold, ere she sought her seat, to sundry gave.
Oft to the heroes Hrothgar’s daughter,
to earls in turn, the ale-cup tendered, -she whom I heard these hall-companions
Freawaru name, when fretted gold
she proffered the warriors. Promised is she, gold-decked maid, to the glad son of Froda.
Sage this seems to the Scylding’s-friend, kingdom’s-keeper: he counts it wise
the woman to wed so and ward off feud,
store of slaughter. But seldom ever
when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink but briefest while, though the bride be fair!1
“Nor haply will like it the Heathobard lord, and as little each of his liegemen all,
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when a thane of the Danes, in that doughty throng, goes with the lady along their hall,
and on him the old-time heirlooms glisten hard and ring-decked, Heathobard’s treasure, weapons that once they wielded fair
until they lost at the linden-play2
liegeman leal and their lives as well.
Then, over the ale, on this heirloom gazing, some ash-wielder old who has all in mind that spear-death of men,3 — he is stern of mood, heavy at heart, — in the hero young
tests the temper and tries the soul
and war-hate wakens, with words like these: -Canst thou not, comrade, ken that sword
which to the fray thy father carried
in his final feud, ‘neath the fighting-mask, dearest of blades, when the Danish slew him and wielded the war-place on Withergild’s fall, after havoc of heroes, those hardy Scyldings?
Now, the son of a certain slaughtering Dane, proud of his treasure, paces this hall,
joys in the killing, and carries the jewel4
that rightfully ought to be owned by thee!_
Thus he urges and eggs him all the time
with keenest words, till occasion offers that Freawaru’s thane, for his father’s deed, after bite of brand in his blood must slumber, losing his life; but that liegeman flies living away, for the land he kens.
And thus be broken on both their sides
oaths of the earls, when Ingeld’s breast wells with war-hate, and wife-love now
after the care-billows cooler grows.
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“So5 I hold not high the Heathobards’ faith due to the Danes, or their during love
and pact of peace. — But I pass from that, turning to Grendel, O giver-of-treasure, and saying in full how the fight resulted, hand-fray of heroes. When heaven’s jewel had fled o’er far fields, that fierce sprite came, night-foe savage, to seek us out
where safe and sound we sentried the hall.
To Hondscio then was that harassing deadly, his fall there was fated. He first was slain, girded warrior. Grendel on him
turned murderous mouth, on our mighty kinsman, and all of the brave man’s body devoured.
Yet none the earlier, empty-handed,
would the bloody-toothed murderer, mindful of bale, outward go from the gold-decked hall:
but me he attacked in his terror of might, with greedy hand grasped me. A glove hung by him6
wide and wondrous, wound with bands;
and in artful wise it all was wrought,
by devilish craft, of dragon-skins.
Me therein, an innocent man,
the fiendish foe was fain to thrust
with many another. He might not so,
when I all angrily upright stood.
‘Twere long to relate how that land-destroyer I paid in kind for his cruel deeds;
yet there, my prince, this people of thine got fame by my fighting. He fled away,
and a little space his life preserved;
but there staid behind him his stronger hand left in Heorot; heartsick thence
on the floor of the ocean that outcast fell.
Me for this struggle the Scyldings’-friend paid in plenty with plates of gold,
with many a treasure, when morn had come –––––––––––––––––––––––—Page 65
and we all at the banquet-board sat down.
Then was song and glee. The gray-haired Scylding, much tested, told of the times of yore.
Whiles the hero his harp bestirred,
wood-of-delight; now lays he chanted
of sooth and sadness, or said aright
legends of wonder, the wide-hearted king; or for years of his youth he would yearn at times, for strength of old struggles, now stricken with age, hoary hero: his heart surged full
when, wise with winters, he wailed their flight.
Thus in the hall the whole of that day
at ease we feasted, till fell o’er earth another night. Anon full ready
in greed of vengeance, Grendel’s mother
set forth all doleful. Dead was her son
through war-hate of Weders; now, woman monstrous with fury fell a foeman she slew,
avenged her offspring. From Aeschere old, loyal councillor, life was gone;
nor might they e’en, when morning broke, those Danish people, their death-done comrade burn with brands, on balefire lay
the man they mourned. Under mountain stream she had carried the corpse with cruel hands.
For Hrothgar that was the heaviest sorrow of all that had laden the lord of his folk.
The leader then, by thy life, besought me (sad was his soul) in the sea-waves’ coil to play the hero and hazard my being
for glory of prowess: my guerdon he pledged.
I then in the waters — ‘tis widely known -that sea-floor-guardian savage found.
Hand-to-hand there a while we struggled; billows welled blood; in the briny hall
her head I hewed with a hardy blade
from Grendel’s mother, — and gained my life, though not without danger. My doom was not yet.
Then the haven-of-heroes, Healfdene’s son, gave me in guerdon great gifts of price.
[1] Beowulf gives his uncle the king not mere gossip of his journey, but a statesmanlike forecast of the outcome of certain policies at the Danish court. Talk of interpolation here is absurd. As both Beowulf and Hygelac know, — and the folk for whom the Beowulf was put together also knew, -Froda was king of the Heathobards (probably the Langobards, once near neighbors of Angle and Saxon tribes on the continent), and had fallen in fight with the Danes. Hrothgar will set aside this feud by giving his daughter as “peace-weaver” and wife to the young king Ingeld, son of the slain Froda. But Beowulf, on general principles and from his observation of the particular case, foretells trouble.
[2] Play of shields, battle. A Danish warrior cuts down Froda in the fight, and takes his sword and armor, leaving them to a son. This son is selected to accompany his mistress, the young princess Freawaru, to her new home when she is Ingeld’s queen. Heedlessly he wears the sword of Froda in hall.
An old warrior points it out to Ingeld, and eggs him on to vengeance. At his instigation the Dane is killed; but the murderer, afraid of results, and knowing the land, escapes. So the old feud must break out again.
[3] That is, their disastrous battle and the slaying of their king.
[4] The sword.
[5] Beowulf returns to his forecast. Things might well go somewhat as follows, he says; sketches a little tragic story; and with this prophecy by illustration returns to the tale of his adventure.
[6] Not an actual glove, but a sort of bag.
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XXXI “So held this king to the customs old,
that I wanted for nought in the wage I gained, the meed of my might; he made me gifts,
Healfdene’s heir, for my own disposal.
Now to thee, my prince, I proffer them all, gladly give them. Thy grace alone
can find me favor. Few indeed
have I of kinsmen, save, Hygelac, thee!”
Then he bade them bear him the boar-head standard, the battle-helm high, and breastplate gray, the splendid sword; then spake in form: -“Me this war-gear the wise old prince,
Hrothgar, gave, and his hest he added,
that its story be straightway said to thee. -A while it was held by Heorogar king,
for long time lord of the land of Scyldings; yet not to his son the sovran left it,
to daring Heoroweard, — dear as he was to him, his harness of battle. — Well hold thou it all!”
And I heard that soon passed o’er the path of this treasure, all apple-fallow, four good steeds,
each like the others, arms and horses
he gave to the king. So should kinsmen be, not weave one another the net of wiles,
or with deep-hid treachery death contrive for neighbor and comrade. His nephew was ever by hardy Hygelac held full dear,
and each kept watch o’er the other’s weal.
I heard, too, the necklace to Hygd he presented, wonder-wrought treasure, which Wealhtheow gave him sovran’s daughter: three steeds he added, slender and saddle-gay. Since such gift
the gem gleamed bright on the breast of the queen.
Thus showed his strain the son of Ecgtheow as a man remarked for mighty deeds
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and acts of honor. At ale he slew not
comrade or kin; nor cruel his mood,
though of sons of earth his strength was greatest, a glorious gift that God had sent
the splendid leader. Long was he spurned, and worthless by Geatish warriors held;
him at mead the master-of-clans
failed full oft to favor at all.
Slack and shiftless the strong men deemed him, profitless prince; but payment came,
to the warrior honored, for all his woes. -Then the bulwark-of-earls1 bade bring within, hardy chieftain, Hrethel’s heirloom
garnished with gold: no Geat e’er knew
in shape of a sword a statelier prize.
The brand he laid in Beowulf’s lap;
and of hides assigned him seven thousand,2
with house and high-seat. They held in common land alike by their line of birth,
inheritance, home: but higher the king
because of his rule o’er the realm itself.
Now further it fell with the flight of years, with harryings horrid, that Hygelac perished,3
and Heardred, too, by hewing of swords
under the shield-wall slaughtered lay,
when him at the van of his victor-folk
sought hardy heroes, Heatho-Scilfings,
in arms o’erwhelming Hereric’s nephew.
Then Beowulf came as king this broad
realm to wield; and he ruled it well
fifty winters,4 a wise old prince,
warding his land, until One began
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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,
came by chance that cave within
to the heathen hoard.5 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 prince and people must pay betimes!
[1] Hygelac.
[2] This is generally assumed to mean hides, though the text simply says “seven thousand.” A hide in England meant about 120 acres, though “the size of the acre varied.”
[3] On the historical raid into Frankish territory between 512 and 520 A.D.
The subsequent course of events, as gathered from hints of this epic, is partly told in Scandinavian legend.
[4] The chronology of this epic, as scholars have worked it out, would make Beowulf well over ninety years of age when he fights the dragon. But the fifty years of his reign need not be taken as historical fact.
[5] The text is here hopelessly illegible, and only the general drift of the meaning can be rescued. For one thing, we have the old myth of a dragon who guards hidden treasure. But with this runs the story of some noble, last of his race, who hides all his wealth within this barrow and there chants his farewell to life’s glories. After his death the dragon takes possession of the hoard and watches over it. A condemned or banished man, desperate, hides in the barrow, discovers the treasure, and while the dragon sleeps, makes off with a golden beaker or the like, and carries it for propi-tiation to his master. The dragon discovers the loss and exacts fearful penalty from the people round about.
XXXII 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,
seeking shelter, a sinful man,
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,
and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.
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,
heedfully there had hidden away,
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
warding the treasure, his one delight,
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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 and heaped hoard of heavy gold
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 and cruel killing my clansmen all,
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.
And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold, 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 rust with their bearer. The ringed mail
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 stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death 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 o’erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss 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
dread him sore. ‘Tis his doom to seek
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
three hundred winters; till One aroused
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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 that wretched man; and his ruler saw
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
in his hidden craft by the creature’s head. -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 the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.
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, sought the cup, and discovered soon
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, and fain with flame the foe to pay
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
for sons of the soil; and soon it came,
in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.
XXXIII THEN the baleful fiend its fire belched out, and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high all landsfolk frighting. No living thing would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.
Wide was the dragon’s warring seen,
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its fiendish fury far and near,
as the grim destroyer those Geatish people hated and hounded. To hidden lair,
to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.
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
quickly and truly: the king’s own home,
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
he had angered, breaking ancient law,
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 washed by waves; but the warlike king,
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
that forest-wood against fire were worthless, linden could aid not. — Atheling brave, he was fated to finish this fleeting life,1
his days on earth, and the dragon with him, though long it had watched o’er the wealth of thehoard! -Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,
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
he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war, contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,
Hrothgar’s hall he had wholly purged,
and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel, –––––––––––––––––––––––—Page 72
loathsome breed! Not least was that
of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell, 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 through strength of himself and his swimming power, though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty coats of mail, when he came to the sea!
Nor yet might Hetwaras2 haughtily boast
their craft of contest, who carried against him shields to the fight: but few escaped
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, rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught
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
over young Heardred’s head as lord
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 sought him o’er seas, the sons of Ohtere, 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.3 Hence Heardred’s end.
For shelter he gave them, sword-death came, the blade’s fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac; but the son of Ongentheow sought again
house and home when Heardred fell,
leaving Beowulf lord of Geats
and gift-seat’s master. — A good king he!
–––––––––––––––––––––––—Page 73
[1] Literally “loan-days,” days loaned to man.
[2] Chattuarii, a tribe that dwelt along the Rhine, and took part in repelling the raid of (Hygelac) Chocilaicus.
[3] Onela, son of Ongentheow, who pursues his two nephews Eanmund and Eadgils to Heardred’s court, where they have taken refuge after their unsuccessful rebellion. In the fighting Heardred is killed.