Beowulf (700-1000 C.E.)

Beowulf is the oldest surviving epic poem in English, first written down by an anonymous author, sometime between 700 and 1000 C.E. In many ways, the text can be curious: It is a tale about a pagan hero, recounted for a Christian audience. What’s more, although it is an Anglo-Saxon epic, the tale takes place in Scandanavia in the sixth century — a time period which would have felt like ancient history to its original, contemporaneous audience. But it offers an intriguing glimpse into Anglo-Saxon culture, its value system, and its worldview. Note: Because Old English is difficult for 21st-century English speakers to understand, this copy of Beowulf has been adapted from a 1915 translation by scholar Ernest J. B. Kirtlan.

The Prelude

Now we have heard, by inquiry, of the glory of the kings of the
people, they of the Spear-Danes, how the Athelings were doing deeds
of courage. Full often Scyld, the son of Scef, with troops of
warriors, withheld the drinking-stools from many a tribe. This
earl caused terror when at first he was found in a miserable
case. Afterward he gave help when he grew up under the welkin,
and worshipfully he flourished until all his neighbors over the sea
gave him obedience, and yielded him tribute. He was a good king. In
after-time there was born to him a son in the Court, whom God sent
thither as a savior of the people. He saw the dire distress that
they formerly suffered when for a long while they were without a
prince. Then it was that the Lord of Life, the Wielder of glory,
gave to him glory. Famous was Beowulf. Far and widespread his
fame. Heir was he of Scyld in the land of the Danes. Thus should
a young man be doing good deeds, with rich gifts to the friends of
his father, so that in later days, when war shall come upon them,
boon companions may stand at his side, helping their liege lord. For
in all nations, by praiseworthy deeds, shall a man be thriving.

At the fated hour Scyld passed away, very vigorous in spirit, to the
keeping of his Lord. Then his pleasant companions carried him down to
the ocean flood, as he himself had bidden them, whilst the friend of
the Scyldings was wielding words, he who as the dear Lord of the Land
had ruled it a long time. And there, in the haven, stood the ship,
with rings at the prow, icy, and eager for the journey, the ferry of
the Atheling.

Then they laid down their dear Lord the giver of rings, the famous
man, on the bosom of the ship, close to the mast, where were heaps of
treasures, armour trappings that had been brought from far ways. Never
heard I of a comelier ship, decked out with battle-weapons and
weeds of war, with swords and byrnies. In his bosom they laid many
a treasure when he was going on a far journey, into the power of
the sea. Nor did they provide for him less of booty and of national
treasures than they had done, who at the first had sent him forth,
all alone o’er the waves, when he was but a child. Then moreover they
set a golden standard high o’er his head, and let the sea take him,
and gave all to the man of the sea. Full sad were their minds, and all
sorrowing were they. No man can say soothly, no, not any hall-ruler,
nor hero under heaven, who took in that lading.

The Story

I.

Moreover the Danish Beowulf, the dear King of his people, was
a long time renowned amongst the folk in the cities (his father,
the Prince, had gone a-faring elsewhere from this world). Then was
there born to him a son, the high Healfdene; and while he lived he
was ruling the happy Danish people, and war-fierce and ancient was
he. Four children were born to him: Heorogar the leader of troops, and
Hrothgar, and Halga the good. And I heard say that Queen Elan (wife
of Ongentheow) was his daughter, and she became the beloved comrade
of the Swede. Then to Hrothgar was granted good speed in warfare and
honour in fighting, so that his loyal subjects eagerly obeyed him,
until the youths grew doughty, a very great band of warriors. Then
it burned in his mind that he would bid men be building a palace,
a greater mead-hall than the children of men ever had heard of, and
that he would therein distribute to young and to old, as God gave him
power, all the wealth that he had save the share of the folk and the
lives of men.

Then I heard far and wide how he gave commandment to many a people
throughout all the world, this work to be doing, and to deck out
the folkstead. In due time it happened that soon among men, this
greatest of halls was now all ready. And Hart he called it, whose
word had great wielding. He broke not his promise, but gave to them
rings and treasures at the banquet. The hall towered on high, and the
gables were wide between the horns, and awaited the surging of the
loathsome flames. Not long time should pass ere hatred was awakened
after the battle-slaughter, twixt father-in-law and son-in-law.

Then it was that the powerful sprite who abode in darkness, scarce
could brook for a while that daily he heard loud joy in the hall. There
was sound of harping, and the clear song of the bard.

He who knew it was telling of the beginning of mankind, and he
said that the Almighty created the world, and the bright fields
surrounded by water. And, exulting, He set the sun and the moon as
lamps to shine upon the earth-dwellers, and adorned the world with
branches and leaves. And life He was giving to every kind of living
creature. So noble men lived in joy, and were all blessed till one
began to do evil, a devil from hell; and this grim spirit was called
Grendel. And he was a march-stepper, who ruled on the moorlands, the
fens, and the stronghold. For a while he kept guard, this unhappy
creature, over the land of the race of monsters, since the Creator
had proscribed him. On the race of Cain the Eternal Lord brought
death as vengeance, when he slew Abel. Nor did he find joy in the
feud, but God for the crime drove him far thence. Thus it was that
evil things came to their birth, giants and elves and monsters of
the deep, likewise those giants who for a long while were striving
with God Himself. And well He requited them.

II.

Then he went visiting the high house after nightfall, to see how the
Ring-Danes were holding it. And he found there a band of Athelings
asleep after feasting. And they knew not sorrow or the misery of
men. The grim and greedy wight of destruction, all fierce and furious,
was soon ready for his task, and laid hold of thirty thanes, all as
they lay sleeping. And away he wended, faring homeward and exulting
in the booty, to revisit his dwellings filled full of slaughter. At
the dawn of day the war-craft of Grendel was seen by men. Then after
his feeding they set up a weeping, great noise in the morning.

The glorious Lord, the very good Atheling, sat all unblithely, and
suffered great pain, and endured sorrow for his thanes, when they saw
the track of the loathly one, the cursed sprite. That struggle was
too strong, loathsome and long. And after but one night (no longer
time was it) he did them more murder-bale, and recked not a whit
the feud and the crime. Too quick was he therein. Then he who had
sought elsewhere more at large a resting-place, a bed after bower,
was easily found when he was shown and told most truly, by the token
so clear, the hate of the hell-thane. He went away farther and faster,
he who would escape the fiend. So he ruled and strove against right,
he alone against all of them, until the best of houses stood quite
idle. And a great while it was–the friend of the Danes suffered
distress and sorrows that were great the time of twelve winters.

Then was it made known to the children of men by a sorrowful singing
that Grendel was striving this while against Hrothgar, and waged
hateful enmity of crime and feud for many a year with lasting strife,
and would hold no truce against any man of the main host of Danes,
nor put away the life-bale, or settle feud with a fee, nor did any man
need to hope for brighter bettering at the hand of the banesman. The
terrible monster, a dark death-shadow, was pursuing the youth and
the warriors, and he fettered and ensnared them, and ever was holding
night after night the misty moorlands. And, men know not ever whither
workers of hell-runes wander to and fro. Thus the foe of mankind,
the terrible and lonesome traveller, often he did them even greater
despite. And he took up his dwelling in the treasure-decked Hall of
Hart in the dark night, nor could he come near the throne the treasure
of God, nor did he know His love.

And great was the evil to the friend of the Danes, and breakings of
heart. Many a strong one sat in council, and much they discussed what
was best for stout-hearted men to do against the fearful terror. And
sometimes they went vowing at their heathen shrines and offered
sacrifices, and with many words pleaded that the devil himself would
give them his help against this menace to the nation. For such was
their custom, the hope of the heathen. And ever of Hell they thought
in their hearts; the Creator they knew not, the Judge of all deeds,
nor knew they the Lord God, nor could they worship the Protector of
the heavens, the Wielder of glory. Woe be to that man who shall shove
down a soul through hurtful malice into the bosom of the fire, and
who hopes for no help nor for any change–well shall it be with that
one who after his death day shall seek the Lord and desire protection
in the embrace of the Father.

III.

So Beowulf, son of Healfdene, ever was brooding over this time-care,
nor could the brave hero avert woe. That conflict was too strong,
loathsome and long, that terrible and dire distress, the greatest of
night-bales which came to the people.

Then the thane of Hygelac, the good man of the Geats, heard
from home of the deeds of Grendel. And on the day of this life
he was the strongest of main of all men in the world; noble was he
and powerful. He bade a fair ship be made, and said that he would be
seeking the War-King, the famous prince, over the swan path, and that
he needed men. And the proud churls little blamed him for that journey,
though dear he was to them. They urged on the valiant man and marked
the omen. The good man of the Geats had chosen champions of those
who were keenest, and sought out the ship. And one, a sea-crafty
man, pointed to the land-marks. Time passed by; the ship was on
the waves, the boat under the cliff, and the warriors all readily
went up to the stern. And the currents were swirling, with sea and
sand. And men were carrying on to the naked deck bright ornaments
and splendid war-armour. Then they shove forth the ship that was well
bound together; and it set forth over the waves, driven by the wind,
this foamy-necked ship, likest to a bird; until about the same time
on the next day, the ship with its twisted stern had gone so far that
the sailing men could see the land, the shining sea-cliffs, the steep
mountains, and the wide sea-nesses. Then they crossed the remaining
portion of the sea. The Geats went up quickly on to the shore,
and anchored the ship. War-shirts and war-weeds were rattling. And
they gave God thanks for their easy crossing of the waves. Then the
ward of the Swedes, who kept guard over the sea-cliffs, saw them carry
down the gangways the bright shields and armour, all ready. And full
curious thought tortured him as to who these men were. He, the thane
of Hrothgar, rode down to the beach on his charger, and powerfully
brandished the spear in his hand and took counsel with them.

‘Who are ye armour-bearers, protected by byrnies, who come here thus
bringing the high vessel over the sea, and the ringed ship over the
ocean? I am he that sits at the end of the land and keep sea-guard,
so that no one more loathsome may scathe with ship-army the land of
the Danes. Never have shield-bearers begun to come here more openly,
yet ye seem not to know the password of warriors, the compact of
kinsmen. Nor ever have I seen a greater earl upon earth, than one of
your band, a warrior in armour. And except his face belie him, he that
is thus weapon-bedecked is no hall-man; but a peerless one to see. Now
must I know your lineage before you go farther with your false spies
in the land of the Danes. Now O ye far-dwellers and sea-farers, hear
my onefold thought–haste is best in making known whence ye are come.’

IV.

Then the eldest gave answer, and unlocked his treasure of words,
the wise one of the troop: ‘We are of the race of the Geats and
hearth-comrades of Hygelac. My father was well known to the folk,
a noble prince was he called Ecgtheow. And he bided many winters,
ere as an old man he set out on his journeys away from the dwelling
places. And wellnigh every councillor throughout all the world
remembered him well. We through bold thinking have come to seek thy
lord, the son of Healfdene, the protector of the people. Vouchsafe
to us good guidance. We have a great business with the lord of the
Danes, who is far famed. Nor of this shall aught be secret as I am
hoping. Well thou knowest if ’tis true as we heard say, that among
the Danes some secret evil-doer, I know not what scather, by terror
doth work unheard-of hostility, humiliation, and death. I may give
counsel through greatness of mind to Hrothgar as to how he, the wise
and good, may overcome the fiend, if ever should cease for him the
baleful business and bettering come after and his troubles wax cooler,
or for ever he shall suffer time of stress and miserable throes,
while the best of all houses shall remain on the high stead.’

Then the watchman, the fearless warrior, as he sat on his horse,
quickly made answer: ‘The shield-warrior who is wide awake, shall know
how to tell the difference between words and works, if he well bethink
him. I can see that this band of warriors will be very welcome to the
Lord of the Danes. Go ye forth, therefore, bear weapons and armour, as
I will direct you. And I will command my thanes to hold against every
foe, your ship in honour, new tarred as it is, and dry on the sands,
until it shall carry the dearly loved man, that ship with the twisted
prow, to the land of the Geats. To each of the well-doers shall it
be given to escape scot-free out of the battle rush.’ Then they went
forth carrying their weapons. And there the ship rested, fastened
by a rope, the wide-bosomed vessel secured by its anchor. The Boar
held life ward, bright and battle-hard and adorned with gold,
over the neck-guard of the handsome Beowulf. There was snorting of
the war-like-minded, whilst men were hastening, as they marched on
together till they caught sight of the splendid place decked out
in gold. And it was the most famous of palaces, under the heavens,
of the earth-dwellers, where the ruler was biding. Its glory shone
over many lands. Then the dear one in battle showed them the bright
house where were the brave ones, that they might straightway make
their way towards it. Then one of the warriors turned his horse round,
and spake this word: ‘Time it is for me to go. May the Almighty Father
hold you in favour, and keep you in safety in all your journeyings. I
will go to the sea-coast to keep my watch against the fierce troops.’

V.

The way was paved with many coloured stones, and by it they knew
the path they should take. The coat of mail shone brightly, which
was firmly hand-locked. The bright iron ring sang in the armour as
they came on their way in their warlike trappings at the first to
the great hall. Then the sea-weary men set down their broad shields,
their shields that were wondrous hard ‘gainst the wall of the great
house, and bowed towards the bench. And byrnies were rattling, the
war-weapons of men. And the spears were standing in a row together,
the weapons of the sea-men and the spear grey above. And the troop
of armed men was made glorious with weapons. Then the proud chieftain
asked the warriors of their kindred: ‘From whence are ye bringing such
gold-plated shields, grey sarks and helmets with visors, and such
a heap of spears? I am the servant and messenger of Hrothgar. Never
saw I so many men prouder. I trow it was for pride and not at all for
banishment, but for greatness of mind that Hrothgar ye are seeking.’

Then answered the brave man, the chief of the Geats, and spake
these words, hard under helmet: ‘We are the comrades at table of
Hygelac. Beowulf is my name. I will say fully this my errand to the
son of Healfdene the famous chieftain, unto thy lord and master,
if he will grant us that we may salute him who is so good.’
Then spake Wulfgar (he was Prince of the Wendels). His courage
was known to all, his valour and wisdom. ‘I will make known to the
Prince of the Danes, the Lord of the Scyldings, the giver of rings,
the famous chieftain as thou art pleading, about thy journey, and will
make known to thee quickly the answer which he the good man thinks fit
to give me.’ Quickly he turned then to where Hrothgar was sitting,
old and very grey with his troop of earls. The brave man then went
and stood before the shoulders of the Lord of the Danes. Well he knew
the custom of the doughty ones. Wulfgar then spoke to his lord and
friend: ‘Here are come faring from a far country over the wide sea,
a people of the Geats, and the eldest the warriors call Beowulf. And
they are asking that they may exchange words with thee, my lord. O
gladman Hrothgar, do not refuse to be talking with them. For worthy
they seem all in their war-weeds, in the judgement of earls. At least
he is a daring Prince who hither hath led this band of warriors.’

VI.

Then spake Hrothgar the protector of the Danes: ‘Well I knew him
when he was a child, and his old father was called Ecgtheow. And to
him did Hrethel of the Geats give his only daughter, and his son is
bravely come here and hath sought out a gracious friend.’ Then said
the sea-farers who had brought the goodly gifts of the Geats there
for thanks, that he the battle-brave had in his hand-grip the main
craft of thirty men. ‘And the holy God hath sent him for favour to us
West Danes, and of this I have hope, ‘gainst the terror of Grendel. I
shall offer the goodman gifts for his daring. Now make thou haste and
command the band of warrior kinsmen into the presence. Bid them welcome
to the people of the Danes.’ Then went Wulfgar even to the hall-door,
and spake these words: ‘My liege lord, the Prince of the East Danes,
commands me to say that he knows your lineage. And ye who are bold
of purpose are welcome hither over the sea-waves. Now may ye go in
your war-weeds, under your visored helmets to see Hrothgar. Let your
swords stay behind here, the wood and the slaughter-shafts and the
issue of words.’ Then the Prince rose up, and about him was many a
warrior, a glorious band of thanes. And some bided there and held the
battle-garments as the brave man commanded. And they hastened together
under the roof of Hrothgar as the man directed them. The stout-hearted
man went forward, hard under helmet till he stood by the dais.

Then Beowulf spake (and the byrny shone on him, the coat of mail,
sewn by the cunning of the smith): ‘O Hrothgar, all hail! I am the
kinsman and comrade of Hygelac. Many marvels I have set on foot
in the days of my youth. The affair of Grendel was made known to me
in my native land. Sea-farers told how this best of all palaces stood
idle and useless to warriors, after evening light came down under the
brightness of heaven. Then my people persuaded me, the best and the
proudest of all my earls, O my lord Hrothgar, that I should seek thee,
for they well knew my main strength. For they themselves saw how I
came forth bloodstained from the power of the fiend, when I bound
the five, and destroyed the giant’s kin, and slew ‘mongst the waves,
sea-monsters by night, and suffered such dire distress, and wreaked
vengeance for the strife of the Geats (for woe they were suffering),
and I destroyed the fierce one. And now all alone I shall settle
the affair of Grendel the deadly monster, the cruel giant. And one
boon will I be asking, O Prince of the Bright Danes, thou lord of
the Scyldings, Protector of warriors and friend of the folk, that
thou wilt not refuse, since so far I am come, that I and my troop of
earls, this crowd of brave men, may alone cleanse out Hart. I have
heard say also that the monster because of his rashness recks not of
weapons. And, if Hygelac the blithe-minded will be my liege lord, I
will forgo to carry to the battle a sword, or broad shield all yellow;
but I will engage by my hand-grip with the enemy, and strive for life,
foe with foe. And he whom Death taketh shall believe in the doom of
the Lord. And I doubt not he will fearlessly consume the people of
the Geats, if he may prevail in the war-hall as he has often done
with the strong men of the Danes. And thou shalt not need to hide
my head if Death take me, for he will seize me all bloodstained,
and will bury the slaughter all bloody, and will think to taste and
devour me alone and without any sorrow, and will stain the glens in
the moorland. And thou needest not to sorrow longer over the food of
my body. And if battle take me, send to Hygelac this best of coats
of mail, the noblest of garments. It is the heirloom of Hrethel the
work of Weland; and let Weird go as it will.’

VII.

Hrothgar gave answer, the protector of the Danes: ‘O my friend Beowulf,
now thou hast sought us, for defence and for favour. Thy father fought
in the greatest of feuds. He was banesman to Heatholaf amongst the
Wylfings, when for battle-terror the King of the Geats could not hold
him. Thence he sought the folk of the South Danes over the welter of
waves. Then first was I ruling the Danish folk, and in my youthful
days possessed the costly jewels, the treasure city of heroes. Then
Heregar was dead, my elder brother not living was he, the child of
Healfdene. He was a better man than I was. Then a payment of money
settled the matter. I sent to the Wylfings ancient presents over the
sea-ridges. And he swore to me oaths. And it is to me great sorrow in
my heart to tell any man what Grendel hath done in Hart through his
malice, of humiliation and sudden horror. My hall-troop has grown less,
the crowd of my thanes; Weird has swept them towards the terror of
Grendel. But easily may the good God restrain the deeds of the foolish
scather. And drunken with beer the warriors full often boasted o’er
the ale-cup that they would bide in the beer-hall the battle of Grendel
with the terror of swords. Then was the mead-hall all bloodstained in
the morning when dawn came shining, and all the benches were wet with
gore, the hall with sword-blood. And so much the less did I rule o’er
dear doughty ones whom death had taken. Now sit down to the banquet
and unbind thy thoughts, thy hopes to the thanes, as thy mind inspires
thee.’ Then was there room made in the beer-hall for the Geats all
together. And there they went and sat down, the strong-hearted men,
proud of their strength. And a thane waited on them, who bore in his
hands the ale-cup bedecked, and he poured out the sparkling mead,
while the clear-voiced bard kept singing in Hart. There was joy to
the heroes, and a very great gathering of Danes and of Geats.
VIII. Spake then Unferth, the son of Eglaf, who sat at the feet of the
Lord of the Danes and opened a quarrel. (For the journey of Beowulf,
of the brave sea-farer, was vexation to him, for he could not brook
that ever any other man than he himself should obtain greater fame
in all the earth.)

‘What!’ said he, ‘art thou that Beowulf who didst contend with Breca,
and strovest for the mastery in swimming o’er wide seas, when ye two
for pride were searching the waves and for foolish boasting risked
your lives in the deep waters? No man could dissuade you from that
sorrowful journey, neither friend nor foe, when ye two swam in the sea,
when ye two enfolded the waves with your arms and measured the sea-ways
and brandished your arms as you glided o’er the ocean. The sea boiled
with waves the wintry whelming. And for seven nights long ye were
toiling in the stress of seas. But he o’erpowered thee in swimming,
for greater strength had he. Then at the morning tide the sea bore him
up to the land of the Heathoremes. Thence he was seeking the friend of
his people his own dear country, the land of the Brondings, the fair
city of refuge, where he had his own folk, and a city and rings. The
son of Beanstan soothly fulfilled his boasting against thee. So do
I deem it a worse matter, though thou art everywhere doughty in the
rush of battle and grim warfare, if thou shalt be daring to bide near
Grendel a night-long space.’

Then Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘What! my friend Unferth,
drunken with beer, many things thou art saying about that Breca
and talkest of his journey. But soothly I tell thee that I had the
greater strength in that swimming, and endurance in the waves. We two
agreed when we were youngsters, and boasted (for we were both still
in the days of our youth) that we in the ocean would be risking our
lives. And so in deed we did. We had a naked sword hard in our hands
when we were swimming. We two were thinking to guard us ‘gainst whale
fishes. Nor over the sea-waves might he be floating a whit far from
me, more quickly on the waters. Then we together were in the sea for
the space of five nights until the flood, the boiling waters drove
us asunder. And the coldest of weather, and the darkening night, and
a wind from the north battle-grim turned against us, and rough were
the waves. And the mind of the mere-fishes was stirred when my shirt
of mail that was hand-locked gave to me help against the foe. The
decorated battle-robe lay on my breast all adorned with gold, and
the doomèd and dire foe drew to the bottom, and fast he had me grim
in his grip. Still to me was granted that I reached to the monster
with the point of my sword. And the mighty sea-deer carried off the
battle-rush through my hand.’

IX.

‘So then evil-doers did often oppress me. And I served them with my
dear sword as was most fitting. Not at all of the feasting had they any
joy. Evil destroyers sat round the banquet at the bottom of the sea,
that they might seize me. But in the morning, wounded by my sword,
they lay up on the foreshore, put to sleep by my weapon so that they
hindered no more the faring of the sea-goers. Light came from the
eastward, the bright beacon of God. The waves grew less that I could
catch sight of the sea-nesses, the windy walls. Weird often saveth
the earl that is undoomed when his courage is doughty. Nevertheless
it happened that I slew with my sword nine of the sea-monsters. Nor
have I heard under vault of heaven of a harder night-struggle,
nor of a more wretched man on the sea-streams. Still I escaped from
the grasp of the foes, with my life, and weary of the journey. When
the sea bore me up, on the flood tide, on the welling of waves, to
the land of the Finns. Nor have I heard concerning thee of any such
striving or terror of swords. Breca never yet, nor either of you two,
did such a deed with shining sword in any battle-gaming (not that I
will boast of this too much), yet wast thou the slayer of thy brother,
thy chief kinsman. And for this in hell shalt thou suffer a curse,
though thy wit be doughty. And soothly I tell thee, O son of Eglaf,
that Grendel that hateful monster never had done such terrors to
thy life and humiliation in Hart if thy mind and thy soul were as
battle-fierce as thou thyself dost say. But he has found that he needed
not to fear the feud the terrible sword-thrust of your people the
Danes. He taketh forced toll, and spareth none of the Danish people,
but joyfully wageth war, putteth them to sleep and feedeth on them,
and expecteth no fight from the Danes. But I shall ere long offer him
in war the strength and the courage of the Geats. Let him go who can
to the mead all proudly when morning light shall shine from the south,
another day over the children of men.’

Then in the hall the giver of rings was grey-haired and
battle-brave. The Prince of the Danes was hopeful of help. The guardian
of the folk fixed on Beowulf his firm-purposed thought. There was
laughter ‘mong heroes, din resounded, and words were winsome. Wealtheow
went forth, the Queen of Hrothgar, mindful of kinship and decked out in
gold, she greeted Beowulf in the hall. And then the lovely wife first
proffered the goblet to the Lord of the East Danes, and bade him be
blithe at the beer-drinking, he who was dear to all his people. And
gladly he took the banquet and hall-cup, he the victorious King. The
lady of the Helmings went round about every one of the youthful
warriors, and proffered the costly cup, until the time came that the
ring-adorned Queen, most excellent in spirit, bore the mead-cup then
to Beowulf. She, the wise in words, greeted the Geats and gave thanks
to God that she had her desire that she might trust in any earl for
help against such crimes. He gladly received it, he the battle-fierce
warrior, from the hand of Wealtheow, and then began singing, inspired
by a warlike spirit.

Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘I had intended at once to work
out the will of this your people when I set forth over the sea and
sat in my sea-boat with the troop of my people, or that I would fall
in the slaughter fast in the fiend’s grip. I shall yet acquit myself
as befitteth an earl, or in the mead-hall await my last day.’ And
well the lady liked the words, the boasting of the Geat. And that
lovely queen went all decked out in gold to sit by her lord. Then
mighty words were spoken in the hall as before, by the people in
joyance and the noise of the victors, until the son of Healfdene
straightway would be seeking his evening rest. And he knew that
a battle was doomed in the high hall to the monster when no longer
they could see the light of the sun, or darkening night came stalking
over all the shapes of shadows. The troop of warriors rose up, the
Lord greeted the other, Hrothgar greeted Beowulf, and wished him
good health and the warding of that wine-hall, and he spake the word:
‘Since the time that I could lift my hand or my shield, never have I
given the mighty hall of the Danes into the care of any, except now
to thee. Have now and hold thou this best of houses, be thou mindful
of honor, and show thyself courageous, and wakeful ‘gainst foes. Nor
shalt thou lack joy if thou escapest from that brave work with life.’

X.

Then Hrothgar departed with his troop of heroes, he the Prince
of the Scyldings; out of Hall went he, for the battle-chieftain
would be seeking out Wealtheow his Queen, that they might go to
rest. The glory of kings had appointed a hall-ward, as men say,
against Grendel. A thane was in waiting on the Prince of the Danes,
and his watch was keeping against the giant. The Lord of the Geats
readily trusted the proud strength, the favor of God. Then doffed
he the iron coat of mail and his helmet from his head, and gave his
sword bedecked, the choicest of weapons, to a thane that was serving,
and bade him to hold ready his armor. Then the good man spoke some
words of boasting: ‘I reck not myself meaner in war-powers and works
of battle than Grendel doth himself. For I will not with sword put him
to sleep and be taking his life away, though well I might do it. He
knows not of good things, that he may strike me, or hew my shield,
though brave he may be in hostile working–but we two by right will
forbear the sword if he dare be seeking warfare without weapon,
and then God all-knowing, the holy Lord, shall adjudge the glory on
whichever side He may think meet.’ Then the bold in fight got him
to rest, and the pillow received the head of the earl, and many a
keen sea-warrior lay down on his bed in the hall about him. None
of them thought that he thence would ever seek another dear home,
folk or free city where he was a child; for they had heard that fell
death had taken, ere this too many, in that wine-hall, of the people
of the Danes. But the Lord gave weavings of war-speed to the people
of the Geats, both comfort and help. So that they all overcame their
enemies through the craft of one man and by his might only. And truly
it is said that God Almighty doth wield forever the race of men. Then
came in the wan night the shadow-goer gliding. Warriors were sleeping
when they should have been keeping guard over that palace; all save
one only. It was well known to men that their constant foe could not
draw them into shadowy places when the Creator was unwilling. But he,
ever wakeful, in angry mood, and fiercely indignant against the foe,
was waiting the issue.

XI.

Then came Grendel, stalking from the moors among the misty hill-slopes,
and he bore God’s anger. And the wicked scather of human kind fully
intended to ensnare a certain one in the high hall. So he wended his
way under the welkin to where he knew that the best of wine-halls,
the gold-hall of man, was adorned with gold plating. Nor was that the
first time that he sought out the home of Hrothgar. Nor ever in former
or later days did he find a harder welcome from hall-thanes. Then
the creature bereft of all joy came to the great hall, and the door,
strongly bound with fire-bands, soon sprang open at his touch. And
the evil-minded one in his fury burst open the door of the palace. And
soon after this the enemy, angry in mind, was treading o’er the doomèd
floor. And a fearsome light streamed forth from his eyes likest to
a flame. And he could see many a warrior in that palace, a troop of
peace-lovers asleep together, a company of kinsmen, and he laughed
aloud. Then the terrible monster fully intended to cut off from life
every one of them there, when he was expecting abundance of meat. But
that fate was not yet, that he should lay hold of any more of human
kind after that night.

Then did Beowulf, kinsman of Hygelac, see the dire distress, how the
wicked scather would fare with sudden grip. Nor did the monster think
to delay, but at the first he quickly laid hold of a sleeping warrior,
and tore him to pieces all unawares, and bit at the flesh and drank
the streaming blood, and devoured huge pieces of flesh. And soon he
had eaten up both feet and hands of the man he had killed. Then he
stepped up to the great-hearted warrior where he lay on the bed,
and took him in his hands. He reached out his hand against the enemy,
and quickly received him with hostile intent, and sat upon his arm. The
Keeper of crimes soon was finding that he never had met in all the
quarters of the earth amongst other men a greater hand-grip. And in
mind and heart he was fearful, and eager to be gone and to flee away
into darkness to seek the troop of devils. But that was not his fate,
as it had been in days of yore. Then the good kinsman of Hygelac
remembered the evening talk, and stood upright and laid hold upon
him. His fingers burst. The giant was going forth, but the earl stepped
after. The famous one intended to escape more widely, howsoever he
might, and to flee on his way thence to the sloping hollows of the
fens. That journey was sorrowful, which the harmful scather took
to Hart. The lordly hall resounded. And great terror there was to
all the Danes, the castle-dwellers, to each of the brave. And both
the mighty guardians were fiercely angry. The hall resounded. Then
was it great wonder that the wine-hall withstood the bold fighters,
and that it fell not to the earth, that fair earth-dwelling. But very
firm it was standing, cunningly shaped by craft of the smith, within
and without. Then on the floor was many a mead-bench, as I have heard
tell, decked out with gold, where the fierce ones were striving. Nor
did the wise Danes formerly suppose that any man could break down a
hall so noble and decorated with antlers, or cunningly destroy it,
unless the bosom of flame swallowed it up in smoke. The roaring
went up now enough. And an awful terror came to the North Danes,
to each one of those who heard weeping from the ramparts, the enemy
of God singing a fierce song, a song that was empty of victory, and
the captive of hell lamenting his sorrow. For he that was strongest
of men in strength held him fast on the day of his life.

XII.

The Prince of earls would not at all let go alive the murderous comer,
nor did he count his life as of use to any of the peoples. And many
an earl of Beowulf’s brandished the old heirloom, and were wishful
to defend the life of their far-famed liege-lord, if they might
do so. And they knew not, when they entered the battle, they the
hard-thinking ones, the battle-men, and they thought to hew on all
sides seeking out his spirit, that not any choice iron over the
earth nor any battle weapon could be greeting the foe, but that
he had forsworn all victorious weapons and swords. And miserable
should be his passing on the day of this life, and the hostile sprite
should journey far into the power of devils. Then he found out that,
he who did crimes long before this with mirthful mind to human kind,
he who was a foe to God, that his body would not last out; but the
proud kinsman of Hygelac had him in his hands. And each was loathsome
to the other while he lived. The terrible monster, sore with wounds
was waiting. The gaping wound was seen on his shoulder. His sinews
sprang open; and the bone-lockers burst. And great victory was given
to Beowulf. Thence would Grendel, mortally wounded, flee under the
fen-slopes to seek out a joyless dwelling. The more surely he knew he
had reached the end of his life, the number of his days. Joy befell
all the Danes after the slaughter-rush. So he had cleansed the hall
of Hrothgar–he who had come from far, the proud and stout-hearted
one, and saved them from strife. He rejoiced in the night-work and
in the glorious deeds. His boast he had fulfilled, this leader of the
Geats, which he made to the East Danes, and likewise made good all the
distresses and the sorrows which they suffered of yore from the foe,
and which through dire need they had to endure, of distresses not a
few. And when the battle-brave man laid down the hand, the arm and
shoulder under the wide roof, that was the manifest token.

XIII.

Then in the morning, as I have heard say, was many a battle-warrior
round about the gift-hall. Came the folk-leaders from far and from near
along the wide ways to look at the marvel. Nor did his passing seem a
thing to grieve over to any of the warriors of those who were scanning
the track of the glory-less wight, how weary in mind he had dragged
along his life-steps, on the way thence doomed and put to flight,
and overcome in the fight at the lake of the sea-monsters. There was
the sea boiling with blood, the awful surge of waves all mingled with
hot gore. The death-doomèd one dyed the lake when void of joys he laid
down his life in the fen for refuge. And hell received him. Thence
after departed the old companions, likewise many a young one from the
joyous journeys, proud from the lake to ride on mares, the youths on
their horses. And there was the glory of Beowulf proclaimed. And many
a one was saying that no man was a better man, no, none in the whole
wide world under arch of the sky, of all the shield-bearers, neither
south nor north, by the two seas. Nor a whit did they blame in the
least their friend and lord, the glad Hrothgar; for he was a good king.
Meanwhile the famed in battle let the fallow mares leap and go faring
forth to the contest, wherever the earth-ways seemed fair unto them
and well known for their choiceness: and the thane of the king, he who
was laden with many a vaunt, and was mindful of songs, and remembered
a host of very many old sagas, he found other words, but bound by the
truth. And a man began wisely to sing the journey of Beowulf, and to
tell skilful tales with speeding that was good, and to interchange
words. He told all that ever he had heard concerning Sigmund,
with his deeds of courage, and much that is unknown, the strife
of Waelsing; and the wide journeys which the children of men knew
not at all, the feud and the crimes, when Fitela was not with him,
when he would be saying any of such things, the uncle to the nephew,
for always they were comrades in need at all the strivings. They had
laid low very many of the giant’s race by means of the sword. And
after his death-day a no little fame sprang up for Sigmund when he,
the hard in battle, killed the worm, the guardian of the hoard. He
alone the child of the Atheling, hazarded a fearful deed, under the
grey stone. Nor was Fitela with him. Still it happened to him that his
sword pierced through the wondrous worm, and it stood in the wall,
that doughty iron, and the dragon was dead. And so this monster had
gained strength in that going so that he might enjoy the hoard of
rings by his own doom. He loaded the sea-boat and bore the bright
treasures on to the ship’s bosom, he the son of Waels. The worm melted
hot. He was of wanderers the most widely famous in deeds of courage,
amongst men, the protector of warriors. He formerly throve thus. Then
the warfare of Heremod was waning, his strength and his courage,
and he was betrayed among the giants into the hands of the foes, and
sent quickly away. And too long did whelming sorrow vex his soul. He
was a source of care to his people, to all the nobles, and many a
proud churl often was lamenting in former times the way of life of the
stout-hearted, they who trusted him for the bettering of bales, that
the child of their lord should always be prospering, and succeed to
his father’s kingdom, and hold the folk, the hoard and city of refuge,
the kingdom of heroes, the country of the Danes. But Beowulf Hygelac’s
kinsman was fairer to all men; but crime assailed Heremod.
Sometimes they passed along the fallow streets contending on
mares. Then came the light of morning and hastened forth. And many
a stiff-minded messenger went to the high hall to see the rare
wonder. Likewise the King himself, the ward of the hoard of rings,
came treading all glorious and with a great suite, forth from the
bridal bower, and choice was his bearing, and his Queen with him
passed along the way to the Mead-hall with a troop of maidens.

XIV.

Hrothgar spake. He went to the hall and stood on the threshold and saw
the steep roof all decked out with gold and the hand of Grendel. ‘Let
thanks be given quickly to God for this sight,’ said he. ‘Often I
waited for the loathsome one, for the snares of Grendel. May God always
work wonder after wonder, He the Guardian of glory. It was not long ago
that I expected not a bettering of any woes for ever, when, doomed to
blood, this best of all houses stood all stained with gore. Now has
this Hero done a deed, through the power of the Lord, which none of
us formerly could ever perform with all our wisdom. Lo! any woman who
gave birth to such a son among human kind, may say, if she yet live,
that the Creator was gracious unto her in bearing of children. Now,
O Beowulf, I will love thee in heart as my son. Hold well to this
new peace. Nor shall there be any lack of joys to thee in the world,
over which I have power. Full oft I for less have meted out rewards
and worshipful gifts to a meaner warrior, one weaker in strife. Thou
hast framed for thyself mighty deeds, so that thy doom liveth always
and for ever. May the All-wielder ever yield thee good as He now doth.’
Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘We framed to fight that brave
work with much favour, and hazarded a deed of daring and the might of
the unknown. I quickly gave you to see the monster himself the enemy
in his fretted armour ready to fall. I thought to twist him quickly
with hard grip on a bed of slaughter so that he should lie in the
throes of death, because of my hand-grip, unless he should escape
with his body. But I could not cut off his going when the Creator
willed it not. I cleft him not readily, that deadly fiend. He was
too strong on his feet. Nevertheless he left behind his hand as a
life protection to show the track, his arm and his shoulders. But
not by any means thus did that wretched creature get any help, nor
by that did the evil-doer, brought low by sin, live any longer. But
sorrow hath him in its fatal grip closely encompassed with baleful
bands. There shall a man covered with sins be biding a mickle doom
as the shining Creator will prescribe.’

Then was the man silent, the son of Ecglaf, in his boasting speech
about deeds of battle, when the Athelings looked at the hand high up
on the roof, by the craft of the earl, and the fingers of the foe,
there before each one. And each of the places of the nails was likest
to steel, the claw of the heathen, the uncanny claw of the battle
warrior. Every one was saying that no very good iron, of any of the
brave ones, would touch him at all, that would bear away thence the
bloody battle-hand of the monster.

XV.

Then was it bidden that Hart should be decked by their hands on the
inside. And many there were of the men and wives who adorned that
wine-hall the guest-chamber. And the tapestries shone along the walls
brocaded with gold; many a wonderful sight for every man who stareth
upon them. And that bright dwelling was greatly marred, though within
it was fast bound with iron yet the door-hinges had sprung apart. The
roof alone escaped all safe and sound when the monster turned to
flight despairing of life and doomed for his crimes. Nor will it be
easy to escape from that fate, whosoever may try to, but he shall get
by strife the ready place of the children of men of the soul-bearers,
who dwell upon earth, by a fate that cannot be escaped where his body
shall sleep after the banquet fast in the tomb.

Then was the time for Healfdene’s son to go into the hall, when the
King himself would partake of the banquet. Nor have I ever heard
tell that any people in greater numbers bore themselves better about
their treasure-giver. And the wealthy ones sat down on the bench and
rejoiced in their feeding. And full courteously their kinsmen took many
a mead-cup, they the stout-hearted Hrothgar and Hrothulf in the high
hall. And within was Hart filled with friends. And by no means were the
Danes the while framing treacheries. Then the son of Healfdene gave
to Beowulf the golden banner, the decorated staff banner as a reward
for his conquest, and the helm and the byrny. And many a one saw the
youth bear in front the bejewelled sword. Beowulf took the cup in the
hall. Nor did he need to be ashamed of the fee-gift in the presence
of warriors. Nor have I heard tell of many men giving to others on any
ale-bench, four gifts gold-decked, in friendlier fashion. The outside
rim wound with wires gave protection to the head on the outer side
around the crown of the helmet. So that many an heirloom could
not hurt fiercely the helmet that was hardened by being plunged in
cold water when the shield-warrior should attack the angry one. The
Protector of earls commanded eight horses to be brought in under the
barriers, with bridles gold plated. And a varicoloured saddle was
fixed upon one of them, decked out with treasures, and this was the
battle-seat of the high King when the son of Healfdene would be doing
the sword-play. Never in the van did it fail the warrior so widely
kenned when the helmets were falling. Then the Prince of the Danes
gave to Beowulf the wielding of them both, of horses and weapons;
and bade him well enjoy them. And thus in manly fashion the famous
chieftain, the treasure-guardian of heroes, rewarded the battle
onslaught with horses and treasures so as no man can blame them,
whoever will be saying rightly the truth.

XVI.

Then the Lord of earls as he sat on the mead-bench gave glorious gifts
to each one of those who had fared with Beowulf over the ocean-ways,
and heirlooms they were; and he bade them atone for that one with gold
whom formerly Grendel had wickedly killed as he would have done more
of them unless Almighty God and the spirit of Beowulf had withstood
Weird. The Creator ruleth all of humankind, as still He is doing. And
good understanding is always the best thing, and forethought of
mind. And he who long enjoys here the world in these strife-days, shall
be biding both pleasant and loathsome fate. Then was there clamor and
singing together in the presence of the battle-prince of Healfdene,
and the harp was sounded and a song often sung, when Hrothgar’s scop
would tell forth the hall-mirth as he sat on the mead-bench.

‘When Fear was befalling the heirs of Finn, the hero of the
Half-Danes, and Hnaef of the Danes must fall in the slaughter of the
Frisian People. Not in the least did Hildeburh need to be praising the
troth of the Jutes. For sinlessly was she deprived of her dear ones
in the play of swords of children and brothers. By fate they fell,
wounded by arrows. And she was a sad woman. Nor without reason did
the daughter of Hoc mourn their doom. When morning light came,
and she could see under the sky the murder of her kinsmen where she
before in the world had the greatest of joy. For warfare took away
all the thanes of Finn except a mere remnant, so that he could not in
the place where they met fight any warfare at all with Hengest, nor
seize from the Prince’s thane the woeful leavings by fighting. But they
offered him terms, so that they all made other room for them on the
floor, and gave them halls and a high seat that they might have half
the power with the children of the Jutes; and the son of Folcwalda
honored the Danes every day with fee-givings, and bestowed
rings on the troop of Hengest, yea, even great treasures plated with
gold, so that he would be making the kin of the Frisians bold in the
beer-hall. Then they swore on both sides a treaty of peace. Finn swore
with Hengest and all without strife that he held in honor the woeful
remnant by the doom of the wise men, and that no man there by word or
work should break the treaty, or ever annul it through treacherous
cunning, though they followed the slayers of their Ring-giver, all
bereft of their lord as was needful for them. But if any one of the
Frisians by daring speech should bring to mind the murderous hate
between them, then should the edge of the sword avenge it. Then sworn
was that oath, and massive gold was lifted up from the hoard. Then
was Hnaef, the best of the warriors, of the bold Danes, ready on the
funeral pyre. And the blood-stained shirt of mail was easily seen,
the golden boar, in the midst of the flame, the iron-hard boar,
and many an Atheling destroyed by wounds. Some fell on the field of
death. Then Hildeburh commanded her very own son to be thrust in
the flames of the pyre of Hnaef, his body to be burned and be put
in the fire. And great was the moaning of the mother for her son,
and dirge-like lamenting as the warrior ascended. And the greatest of
slaughter-fires wound its way upwards towards the welkin and roared
before the cavern. Heads were melting, wounds burst asunder. Then
blood sprang forth from the wounds of the body. Flame swallowed
all, that most cruel of ghosts, of both of those folk whom battle
destroyed. Their life was shaken out.

XVII.

‘Then the warriors went forth to visit the dwellings which were
bereft of friends, and to look upon the land of the Frisians, the
homesteads and the high town. And Hengest was still dwelling with
Finn, that slaughter-stained winter, all bravely without strife. And
he thought on the homeland, though he could not be sailing his ringed
ship over the waters. The sea boiled with storm and waged war with the
wind. And winter locked up the ice-bound waves till yet another year
came in the court, as still it doth, which ever guards the seasons,
and the glory-bright weather. Then winter was scattered, and fair was
the bosom of the earth. And the wanderer strove to go, the guest
from the court. And much more he thought of vengeance for the feud than
of the sea-voyage, as to how he could bring about an angry encounter,
for he bore in mind the children of the Jutes. And so he escaped not
the lot of mortals when Hunlafing did on his arm the best of swords,
the flashing light of the battle, whose edge was well known to the
Jutes. And dire sword-bale after befel the fierce-minded Finn, even
in his very own home, when Guthlaf and Oslaf lamented the grim grip
of war and the sorrow after sea-journeys, and were charging him with
his share in the woes. Nor could he hold back in his own breast his
fluttering soul. Then again was the hall adorned with the bodies of
foemen, and Finn was also slain, the King with his troop, and the
Queen was taken. And the warriors of the Danes carried to the ships
all the belongings of the earth-king, such as they could find in the
homestead of Finn, of ornaments and jewels. They bore away also the
noble wife Hildeburh down to the sea away to the Danes, and led her
to her people.’

So a song was sung, a lay of the gleemen, and much mirth there was
and great noise from the benches. And cup-bearers offered wine from
wondrous vessels. Then came forth Queen Wealtheow in her golden
circlet, where the two good men were sitting, the uncle and his
nephew. And still were they in peace together, and each true to the
other. Likewise Unferth the Spokesman sat there at the foot of the
Lord of the Danes. And each of them trusted Unferth’s good heart and
that he had a great soul, though he was not loyal to his kinsmen at
the sword-play.

Then spake the Queen of the Danes: ‘Take this cup, O my liege lord,
thou giver of rings. Be thou right joyful, thou gold-friend to men;
do thou speak mild words to the Geats, as a man should be doing. Be
glad of thy Geats and mindful of gifts. Now thou hast peace both
near and far. There is one who told me that thou wouldst have the
battle-hero for thy son. Now Hart is all cleansed, the bright hall of
rings. Enjoy whilst thou mayest many rewards, and leave to thy kinsmen
both folk and a kingdom when thou shalt go forth to look on eternity. I
know my glad Hrothulf will hold in honour this youth if thou,
O Hrothgar the friend of the Danes, dost leave the world earlier than
he. I ween that he will yield good to our children if he remembers
all that has passed–how we two worshipfully showed kindness to him
in former days when he was but a child.’ Then she turned to the bench
where were her sons Hrothric and Hrothmund and the children of heroes,
the youths all together. There sat the good man Beowulf of the Geats,
by the two brothers.

XVIII.

And the cup was borne to them, and a friendly invitation given to
them in words, and twisted gold was graciously proffered him, two
arm-ornaments, armor and rings, and the greatest of neck-rings
of which I heard tell anywhere on earth. Ne’er heard I of better
hoard jewels of heroes under the sky, since Hama carried away
the Brosinga-men to the bright city, ornaments and treasure
vessel. It was he who fled from the cunning plots of Eormanric
and chose eternal gain. Hygelac of the Geats next had the ring, he
who was the grandson of Swerting, when under the standard he protected
the treasure and defended the plunder. And Weird carried him off when
he, because of pride suffered woes, the feud with the Frisians. Then
carried he the jewels, the precious stones over the sea, he who was
the ruling prince, and he fell under shield; and the life of the king
and the coat of mail and ring together came into possession of the
Franks. And worse warriors plundered the slaughter after the war. And
the corpses of the Geats held the field of death. The hall resounded
with noise when Wealtheow spake these words in the midst of the court:
‘Enjoy this ring, dearest Beowulf, and use this coat of mail, these
national treasures, and good luck befall thee! Declare thyself a
good craftsman, and be to these boys gentle in teaching, and I will
be mindful of thy guerdon for that thou hast so acted that men will
esteem thee far and near for ever and ever, even as widely as the
sea doth encompass the windy earth-walls. Be a noble Atheling as
long as thou livest. I give thee many treasures. Be thou kindly in
deed to my sons, joyful as thou art. For here is each earl true to
his fellow, and mild of mood, and faithful to his liege-lord. Thanes
are gentle, the people all ready. O ye warriors who have drunk deep,
do as I tell you.’ She went to the seat where was a choice banquet,
and the men drank wine. They knew not Weird, the Fate that was grim,
as it had befallen many an earl.

Then evening came on, and Hrothgar betook him to his own quarters,
the Prince to his resting-place, and a great number of earls kept guard
o’er the palace as often they had done in former days. They laid bare
the bench-board and spread it over with beds and bolsters. And one of
the beer-servants eager and fated went to his bed on the floor. And
they set at his head war-shields, that were bright. And over the
Atheling, there on the bench was easily seen the towering helmet and
the ringed byrny, the glorious spear. It was their wont to be ready
for war both at home and in battle, at whatever time their lord had
need of them. The season was propitious.

XIX.

Then they sank down to sleep. And sorely some of them paid for their
evening repose, as full often it had happened to them since Grendel
came to the gold-hall and did evil, until an end was made of him,
death after sins. It was easily seen and widely known to men that
an avenger survived the loathsome one, for a long time after the
war-sorrow. A woman, the mother of Grendel, a terrible wife, bore in
mind her woes. She who was fated to dwell in the awful lake in the
cold streams since Cain became a sword-slayer to his only brother,
his father’s son. He then went forth marked for the murder, and fled
from human joys and dwelt in the waste. And thence he awoke many a
fatal demon. And Grendel was one of them, the hateful fierce wolf,
who found the man wide awake awaiting the battle. And there was the
monster at grips with him, yet he remembered the main strength the
wide and ample gift which God gave to him, and trusted in the favor of
the Almighty for himself, for comfort and help by which he vanquished
the enemy and overcame the hell-sprite. Then he departed abject,
bereft of joy, to visit the death-place, he the enemy of mankind.

But his mother, greedy and sad in mind would be making a sorrowful
journey that she might avenge the death of her son. She came then
to Hart, where the Ring-Danes were asleep in that great hall. Then
soon there came misfortune to the earls when the mother of Grendel
entered the chamber. Yet less was the terror, even by so much as the
craft of maidens, the war-terror of a wife, is less than that of
men beweaponed–when the sword hard bound and forged by the hammer,
and stained with blood, cuts the boar on the helmet of the foe with
its edge. Then in the hall, the hard edge was drawn, the sword over
the seats, and many a broad shield, heaved up fast by the hand. And
no one heeded the helmet nor the broad shield when terror seized upon
them. She was in great haste, she would go thence her life to be saving
when she was discovered. Quickly she had seized one of the Athelings
fast in her grip when forth she was fleeing away to the fen-land. He
was to Hrothgar the dearest of heroes, in the number of his comrades
by the two seas, a powerful shield-warrior, whom she killed as he
slumbered, a youth of renown. Beowulf was not there. To another the
place was assigned after the treasure-gift had been bestowed on the
famous Geat. Then a great tumult was made in Hart, and with bloodshed
she had seized the well-known hand of Grendel her son. And care was
renewed in all the dwellings. Nor was that a good exchange that they
on both sides should be buying with the lives of their friends.

Then was the wise King, the hoar battle-warrior, rough in his mood
when he came to know that the dearest of his chief thanes was dead
and bereft of life. And Beowulf quickly was fetched into the bower,
he, the man all victorious. And at the dawning went one of the earls,
a noble champion, he and his comrades, where the proud man was waiting,
to see whether the All-wielder will ever be causing a change after
woe-spells. And the battle-worthy man went along the floor with his
band of followers (the hall wood was resounding) so that he
greeted the wise man with words, the Lord of the Danes, and asked
him if he had had a quiet night in spite of the pressing call.

XX.

Hrothgar spake, he the Lord of the Danes: ‘Ask not after our luck,
for sorrow is renewed to the folk of the Danes. Aeschere is dead, the
elder brother of Yrmenlaf; he was my councillor and my rune-teller,
my shoulder-companion when we in the battle protected our heads;
when troops were clashing and helmets were crashing. He was what an
earl ought to be, a very good Atheling. Such a man was Aeschere. And
a wandering slaughter-guest was his hand-slayer, in Hart. I know
not whither that dire woman exulting in carrion, and by her feeding
made famous, went on her journeys. She was wreaking vengeance for the
feud of thy making when thou killedst Grendel but yesternight, in a
violent way, with hard grips, because all too long he was lessening
and destroying my people. He fell in the struggle, gave his life as
a forfeit; and now comes another, a mighty man-scather, to avenge
her son, and the feud hath renewed as may seem a heavy heart-woe to
many a thane who weeps in his mind over the treasure-giver. Now lieth
low the hand which availed you well, for every kind of pleasure. I
heard land-dwellers, and hall-counsellors, and my people, say that
they saw two such monstrous March-steppers, alien-sprites,
holding the moorland. And one of them was in the likeness of a woman
as far as they could tell; the other, shapen wretchedly, trod the
path of exiles in the form of a man, except that he was greater than
any other man, he whom in former days the earth-dwellers called by
name Grendel. They knew not his father, whether any secret sprite
was formerly born of him. They kept guard over the hidden land,
and the wolf-slopes, the windy nesses, the terrible fen-path where
the mountain streams rush down under mists of the nesses, the floods
under the earth. And it is not farther hence than the space of a mile
where standeth the lake, over which are hanging the frosted trees,
their wood fast by the roots, and shadowing the water. And there
every night one may see dread wonders, fire on the flood. And there
liveth not a wise man of the children of men who knoweth well the
ground. Nevertheless the heath-stepper, the strong-horned hart, when
pressed by the hounds seeketh that woodland, when put to flight from
afar, ere on the hillside, hiding his head he gives up his life.

‘Nor is that a canny place. For thence the surge of waters riseth up
wan to the welkin when stirred by the winds, the loathsome weather,
until the heaven darkens and skies weep. Now is good counsel depending
on thee alone. Thou knowest not the land, the terrible places where
thou couldest find the sinful man; seek it if thou darest. I will
reward thee for the feud with old world treasures so I did before,
with twisted gold, if thou comest thence, on thy way.’

XXI.

Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Sorrow not, O wise man. It
is better for each one to avenge his friend, when he is much
mourning. Each one of us must wait for the end of his world-life. Let
him work who may, ere the doom of death come; that is afterwards
best for the noble dead. Arise, O ward of the kingdom. Let us go
forth quickly to trace out the going of Grendel’s kinswoman. I bid
thee do it. For neither in the bosom of the earth, nor in forests
of the mountains, nor by the ways of the sea, go where she will,
shall she escape into safety. Do thou this day be patient in every
kind of trouble as I also hope to be.’ The old man leapt up and gave
thanks to God, the mighty Lord, for the words of Beowulf.
Then was bridled a horse for Hrothgar, a steed with twisted hair,
and as a wise prince he went forth in splendid array. The troop of
shield-warriors marched along. And the traces were widely seen in the
forest-ways, the goings of Grendel’s mother over the ground. Forwards
she had gone over the mirky moorlands, and had borne in her grasp,
bereft of his soul, the best of the thanes who were wont to keep
watch over Hrothgar’s homestead. Then Beowulf, the Atheling’s child,
stepped o’er the steep and stony slopes and the narrow pathways, and
the straitened single tracks, an unknown way, by the steep nesses, and
by many a sea-monster’s cavern. And one of the wise men went on before
to seek out the path, until all at once he found some mountain trees,
overhanging the grey stones, a forest all joyless. And underneath
was a water all bloodstained and troubled. And a grievous thing it
was for all the Danes to endure, for the friends of the Scyldings,
and for many a thane, and distressful to all the earls, when they
came upon the head of Aeschere on the cliffs above the sea. The flood
boiled with blood and with hot gore (the folk looked upon it). And
at times the horn sounded a battle-song ready prepared.

All the troop sat down. And many kinds of serpents they saw in
the water, and wonderful dragons searching the sea, and on the
cliff-slopes, monsters of the ocean were lying at full length, who
at the morning tide often make a woeful journey on the sail-path;
and snakes and wild beasts they could see also. And these living
things fell down on the path all bitter and angry when they perceived
the noise, and the blast of the war-horn. And the Prince of the
Geats killed one of them with his bow and arrows and ended his
wave-strife, and he was in the sea, slower at swimming as death swept
him away. And on the waves by fierce battle hard pressed, and with
boar-spears savagely barbed, the wondrous sea-monster was assailed
in the struggle and drawn up on the headland. And men were looking
at the awful stranger. And Beowulf put on him his armor, that was
fitting for an earl, and by no means did he lament over his life, for
the hand-woven coat of mail, which was ample and of many colors, was
destined to explore the deeps, and knew well how to defend his body,
so that neither battle-grip nor the hostile grasp of the treacherous
one might scathe breast or life; and the white helmet thereof warded
his head, that which was destined to search out the bottom of the
sea and the welter of waters, and which was adorned with treasures
and encircled with noble chains, wondrously decked and set round with
boar-images, as in days of yore a weapon-smith had made it for him,
so that no brand nor battle-sword could bite him. And by no means
was that the least of aids in battle that the Spokesman of Hrothgar
lent him at need, even the hilted sword which was called
Hrunting. And it was one of the ancient treasures. Its edge was of
iron, and poison-tipped, and hardened in battle-sweat. And never
did it fail in the fight any man who brandished it in his hands,
or who dared to go on fearful journeys, to the field of battle. And
that was not the first time that it was to do deeds of courage. And
Unferth did not think, he the kinsman of Ecglaf, crafty of strength,
of what he formerly had said when drunken with wine, he had lent
that weapon to a braver sword-warrior. He himself durst not risk his
life in the stress of the waters and do a glorious deed. And thereby
he lost his doom of famous deeds. But thus was it not with that other,
for he had got himself ready for the battle.

XXII.

Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘O kinsman of Healfdene,
thou far-famed and proud prince, thou gold-friend of men, now that
eager I am for this forth-faring, bethink thee now of what we two were
speaking together, that if I should lose my life through helping thee
in thy need, thou wouldst be always to me in the place of a father
after my death. Be thou a guardian to my kinsmen, my thanes, and
my hand comrades, if battle should take me. And dear Hrothgar, send
thou the gifts, which thou didst give me, to Hygelac. And the Lord
of the Geats, the son of Hrethel, when he looks on the treasure and
perceives the gold, will see that I found a giver of rings, one good
and open-handed, and that while I could, I enjoyed the treasures. And
do thou let Unferth, the man who is far-famed, have the old heirloom,
the curiously wrought sword with its wave-like device, with its hard
edge. I work out my fate with Hrunting, or death shall seize me.’

After these words the Lord of the Weder-Geats courageously hastened,
and by no means would he wait for an answer. The whelming sea received
the battle-hero. And it was a day’s while before he could see the
bottom of the sea. And very soon the fierce and eager one who had
ruled the expanse of the floods for a hundred years, she, the grim
and greedy, saw that a man was searching out from above the dwelling
of strange monsters. Then she made a grab at him, and closed on the
warrior with dire embrace. But not at first did she scathe his body,
safe and sound. The ring surrounded it on the outside, so that she
could not pierce the coat of mail or the interlaced war-shirt with
loathsome finger. Then the sea-wolf, when she came to the bottom of
the sea, bore the Ring-Prince towards her house so that he might not,
though he was so strong in soul, wield any weapon; and many a wonder
oppressed him in the depths, many a sea-beast broke his war-shirt
with his battle-tusks, and monsters pursued him.

Then the earl saw that he was in he knew not what hall of strife,
where no water scathed him a whit, nor could the sudden grip of the
flood touch him because of the roof-hall. He saw, too, a firelight,
a bright pale flame shining. Then the good man caught sight of the
she-wolf, that monstrous wife, down in the depths of the sea. And he
made a mighty rush with his sword. Nor did his hand fail to swing it
so that the ringed mail on her head sang a greedy death-song. Then
Beowulf the stranger discovered that the battle-blade would not bite
or scathe her life, but the edge failed the lord in his need. It
had suffered many hand-blows, and the helmet, the battle-dress of
the doomed one, it had often cut in two. That was the first time
that his dear sword-treasure failed him. Then he became resolute,
and not by any means did he fail in courage, that kinsman of Hygelac,
mindful of glory. And this angry warrior threw away the stout sword,
bound round with jewels with its wavy decorations, and with its
edge of steel, so that it lay prone on the ground; and henceforth
he trusted in his strength and the hand-grasp of might. So should
a man be doing when he thinketh to be gaining long-lasting praise
in fighting, and careth not for his life. Then the Lord of the Geats
seized by the shoulder the mother of Grendel (nor at all did he mourn
over that feud), and he, the hard in battle, threw down his deadly
foe, when he was angry, so that she lay prone on the floor. But she
very quickly, with grimmest of grips, requited him a hand-reward,
and made a clutch at him. And the weary in soul, that strongest of
fighters, he the foot-warrior stumbled and fell. Then she sat on that
hall-guest, and drew forth her axe, broad and brown-edged, and would
fain be avenging the death of her child, of her only son. But on his
shoulder was the coat of mail all woven, which saved his life and
prevented the entrance of the point and the edge of the sword. And
the son of Ecgtheow, the Prince of Geats, would have surely gone a
journey under the wide earth unless that warlike coat of mail had
given him help, that hard war-net, and unless the Holy God He the
cunning Lord, and the Ruler in the heavens, had wielded the victory,
and easily decided the issue aright; then he straightway stood up.

XXIII.

Then among the weapons he caught sight of a sword, rich in victories,
an old weapon of the giants, and doughty of edge, the glory of
warriors. It was the choicest of weapons, and it was greater than
any other man could carry to the battle-playing, and all glorious and
good, a work of the giants. And he seized it by the belted hilt, he
the warrior of the Danes, rough and battle-grim, and he brandished the
ring-sword; and despairing of life, he angrily struck so that hardly
he grasped at her neck and broke the bone-rings. And the point pierced
through the doomed flesh-covering. And she fell on the floor. The
sword was all bloody, and the man rejoiced in his work. Shone forth the
bright flame and a light stood within, even as shineth the candle
from the bright heavens. And then he looked on the hall, and turned to
the wall. And the thane of Hygelac, angry and resolute, heaved hard
the weapon, taking it by the hilt. And the edge was not worthless to
the battle-warrior, for he would be quickly requiting Grendel many
a war-rush which he had done upon the West Danes, many times oftener
than once when in sleeping he smote the hearth-comrade of Hrothgar,
and fed on them sleeping, of the Danish folk, some fifteen men, and
bore forth yet another one, that loathly prey. And well he requited
him, this furious champion, when he saw the war-weary Grendel lying in
death, all void of his life as formerly in Hart the battle had scathed
him. His body sprang apart when after his death he suffered a stroke,
a hard battle-swing; and then he struck off his head.

Right soon the proud warriors, they who with Hrothgar, looked forth on
the sea, could easily see, that the surging water was all stained with
blood and the grey-haired ancients spoke together about the good man,
that they deemed not the Atheling would ever again come seeking the
famous Prince Hrothgar glorying in victory, for it seemed unto many
that the sea-wolf had destroyed him.

Then came noonday. The valiant Danes left the headland, and the
gold-friend of men went homeward thence. And the strangers of
the Geats, sick in mind, sat and stared at the water. They knew and
expected not that they would see again their liege-lord himself. Then
the sword began to grow less, after the battle-sweat, into icicles
of steel. And a wonder it was that it all began to melt likest to
ice, when Our Father doth loosen the band of frost and unwinds the
icicles, He who hath power over the seasons, He is the true God. Nor
in these dwellings did the Lord of the Geats take any other treasure,
though much he saw there, except the head and the hilt, decked out
with jewels. The sword had melted, and the decorated weapon was burnt
up. The blood was too hot, and so poisonous the alien sprite who died
in that conflict. Soon Beowulf was swimming, he who formerly awaited
the onset of the hostile ones in the striving, and he dived upwards
through the water. And the weltering surge and the spacious lands
were all cleansed when the alien sprite gave up his life and this
fleeting existence.

He the stout-hearted came swimming to shore, he the Prince of the
sea-men enjoying the sea-spoils, the great burden of that which he
had with him. They advanced towards him and gave thanks to God, that
glorious crowd of thanes, and rejoiced in their lord that they could
see him once more. Then was loosed quickly from that valiant man both
helmet and shield. The sea became turbid, the water under welkin,
all stained with blood. And rejoicing in spirit the brave men went
forth with foot-tracks and passed over the earth, the well-known
pathways. And a hard task it was for each one of those proud men to
bear that head away from the sea-cliff. Four of them with difficulty
on a pole were bearing the head of Grendel to the gold-hall, until
suddenly, valiant and battle-brave, they came to the palace, fourteen
of the Geats marching along with their liege-lord who trod the field
where the mead-hall stood. Then this Prince of the thanes, this man so
bold of deed and honoured by Fate, this battle-dear warrior went into
the hall to greet King Hrothgar. Then over the floor where warriors
were drinking they bore Grendel’s head, a terror to the earls and
also to the Queen. And men were looking at the splendid sight of
the treasures.

XXIV.

Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Lo, son of Healfdene, lord of
the Danes, we have brought thee this booty of the sea all joyfully,
this which thou seest as a token of glory. And I hardly escaped with
my life, and hazarded an arduous task of war under water. And nearly
was the battle ended for me, but that God shielded me. Nor could
I in that conflict do aught with Hrunting, though the weapon was
doughty. But the Ruler of men granted me to see hanging on the wall
a beauteous sword mighty and ancient (often He guides those who are
bereft of their comrades), and I drew the weapon. And I struck in that
striving the guardian of the house when I saw my chance. Then that
battle-sword that was all decked out, burned up so that blood gushed
forth, the hottest of battle-sweat. But I bore off that hilt thence
from the enemy, and wrought vengeance for the crimes, the deaths of
the Danes, as it was fitting. And here I bid thee to take thy rest all
sorrowless in Hart, with the troop of thy men and each of the thanes
of thy people, the youth and the doughty ones. O Lord of the Danes,
no longer need’st thou fear for them, because of earls’ life-bale as
before thou didst.’ Then was the golden hilt, the work of the giants,
given into the hand of the old warrior, the hoary battle-chief. This
work of the wonder-smiths went into the possession of the Lord of the
Danes after the destruction of devils; and when the man of the fierce
heart, the adversary of God guilty of murder, forsook this world,
it passed to the best of world-kings by the two seas, of these who
in Sceden Isle dealt out treasures.

Hrothgar spake and looked upon the hilt, the old heirloom on which
was written the beginning of the ancient feud since the flood, the
all-embracing ocean slew the giant race, when they bore themselves
presumptuously. They were a folk strangers to the eternal God, to whom
the ruler gave their deserts through whelming of waters. Thus was
there truly marked on the sword guards of shining gold, by means of
rune-staves, set down and stated by whom that sword was wrought at the
first, that choicest of weapons, with its twisted hilt, adorned with
a dragon. Then spake the wise man the son of Healfdene, and all kept
silence: ‘He who doeth truth and right among the folk, and he who can
recall the far-off days, he the old protector of his country may say
that this earl was well born. Thy fair fame is spread throughout the
wide ways, among all peoples, O my friend Beowulf. Thou dost hold all
with patience, and might, with the proud of mind. I will perform the
compact as we two agreed. Thou shalt be a lasting aid to thy people,
a help to the heroes. Not so was Heremod to the sons of Egwela,
the honour-full Danish folk. For he did not become a joy to
them, but slaughter and death to the Danish people. But in a fury he
killed the table-companions his boon comrades; until he alone, the
famous chieftain, turned away from human joys. And though the mighty
God greatly exalted him by the joys of strength over all people and
rendered him help, yet a fierce hoard of hate grew up in his soul;
no rings did he give to the Danes, as the custom was; and joyless he
waited, so that he suffered troublesome striving and to his people a
long time was baleful. Do thou be learning by that example and seek
out manly virtues. I who am old in winters sing thee this song. And
a wonder is it to say how the mighty God giveth wisdom to mankind
through wideness of mind, lands, and earlship. He hath power over
all. Sometimes he letteth the thought of man of famous kith and kin
be turning to love, and giveth him earth-joys in his own country,
so that he holdeth the city of refuge among men, and giveth him to
rule over parts of the world, and very wide kingdoms, so that he
himself foolishly never thinketh of his end. He dwelleth in weal;
and neither disease nor old age doth deceive him a whit, nor doth
hostile sorrow darken his mind, nor anywhere do strife or sword-hate
show themselves; but all the world doth go as he willeth.

XXV.

‘He knoweth no evil until his share of pride wasteth and groweth, while
sleepeth the guardian, the ward of his soul. And the sleep is too deep,
bound up in afflictions, and the banesman draweth near who shooteth
cruelly his arrows from the bow. Then in his soul under helmet is he
stricken with bitter shaft. Nor can he save himself from the crooked
behests of the cursed ghost. And little doth he think of that which
long he hath ruled. And the enemy doth covet, nor at all doth he give
in boast the plated rings, and he then forgetteth and despiseth his
fate his share of honour which God before gave him, He the Wielder of
wonder. And in the end it doth happen that the body sinks fleeting and
doomed to death falleth. And another succeeds thereto who joyfully
distributeth gifts, the old treasure of the earl, and careth not
for terrors. Guard thee against malicious hate, O my dear Beowulf,
thou noblest of men, and choose for thyself that better part, eternal
wisdom. Have no care for pride, O glorious champion. Now is the fame of
thy strength proclaimed for a while. Soon will it be that disease or
sword-edge or grasp of fire or whelming of floods or grip of sword or
flight of arrow or dire old age will sever thee from strength, or the
lustre of thine eyes will fail or grow dim. Then forthwith will happen
that death will o’erpower thee, O thou noble man. Thus have I for fifty
years held sway over the Ring-Danes under the welkin and made safe by
war many a tribe throughout the world with spears and swords, so that I
recked not any man my foeman under the sweep of heaven. Lo! then there
came to me change in my homeland, sorrow after gaming, when Grendel,
that ancient foe became my invader. And ever I bore much sorrow of
mind through that feud. And may God be thanked, the eternal lord,
that I lingered in life, till I looked with mine eyes on that head
stained with sword-blood after the old strife. Go now to thy seat and
enjoy the feasting, thou who art glorious in war. And when morning
cometh there shall be a host of treasures in common between us.’

And the Geat was glad of mind, and soon he went up to the high seat
as the proud chief had bidden him. Then renewed was fair chanting as
before ‘mongst these brave ones who sat on the floor. And the helmet
of night grew dark over men. And the noble warriors arose. The
venerable king wished to go to his bed, the old prince of the
Danes. And the Geat, the shield-warrior, desired greatly to go to
his rest. And straightway a hall-thane guided the far-comer, weary
of his journey, he who so carefully attended to all his needs such as
that day the ocean-goers would fain be having. And the great-hearted
one rested himself. The House towered on high that was spacious and
gold-decked. The guest slept within until the black raven heralded
the joy of heaven.

Then came the sun, hastening and shining over the earth. Warriors
were hurrying and Athelings were eager to go to their people. The
bold-hearted comer would visit the ship far away. He the hardy one
bade the son of Ecglaf carry forth Hrunting, and commanded him to
take his sword, that lovely piece of steel. And he gave thanks for
the lending, and said he reckoned him a good war-comrade and crafty
in fighting. Not at all did he blame the edge of the sword. He was
a proud man. When ready for the journey were all the warriors, then
Beowulf the Atheling, of good worth to the Danes, went up to the dais
where was Hrothgar the faithful and bold, and greeted him there.

XXVI.

Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Now we the sea-farers, that
have come from afar, desire to say that we are hastening back to
Hygelac. And here have we been nobly waited on, and well thou hast
treated us. And if I then on earth can gain a whit further greater
heart-love from thee, O Lord of men, than I have gained already, in
doing war-deeds, thereto I’m right ready. And if I shall hear o’er
the sheet of waters that terrors are oppressing those who sit round
thee, as erewhile thine enemies were doing upon thee, I will bring
here a thousand thanes, heroes to help thee. And I know that Hygelac,
the Lord of the Geats, the guardian of my folk, though young in years,
will help me by word and works to bring to thee honour and bear spear
to thine aid, the help of strength, if thou hast need of men. And
if Hrethric the Prince’s child should ever take service in the
court of the Geat, he may find there many a friend. It is better for
him who is doughty himself to be seeking far countries.’

Hrothgar spake and gave him answer: ‘The all-knowing Lord doth send
thee words into thy mind. Never heard I a man speak more wisely,
so young in years, thou art strong of main and proud of soul, and
of words a wise sayer. I reckon that if it cometh to pass that an
arrow or fierce battle should take away the children of Hrethel or
disease or sword destroy thy sovereign, the protector of the folk,
and thou art still living, that the Sea-Geats will not have to choose
any better king, if thou wilt hold the kingdom of the kinsmen. Thou
hast brought about peace to the folk of the Geats and the Spear-Danes,
and a ceasing of the strife and of the enmity which formerly they
suffered. And whilst I am ruling the wide kingdom, treasures shall be
in common between us. And many a man shall greet another with gifts
over the sea. And the ring-necked ship shall bear over the ocean
both offerings and love-tokens. I know the two peoples to be steadfast
towards friend and foe, and blameless in all things in the old wise.’

Then in that hall the prince of the earls, the son of Healfdene,
gave him twelve treasures, and bade him be seeking his own people in
safety and with the offerings, and quickly to come back again. Then the
King, the Prince of the Danes, he of good lineage, kissed the best of
thanes, and embraced his neck. And tears were falling down the face
of the old man. And the old and wise man had hope of both things,
but most of all of the other that they might see each the other,
those thoughtful men in council.

For Beowulf was so dear to him that he could not restrain the whelming
in his bosom, but a secret longing fast in the bonds of his soul
was burning in his breast against his blood. So Beowulf the
warrior, proud of his golden gifts, went forth o’er the grassy plain
rejoicing in treasure. And the sea-goer was awaiting her lord where
she lay at anchor. And as he was going he often thought on the gift
of Hrothgar. He was a king, blameless in every way, until old age,
that scather of many, bereft him of the joys of strength.

XXVII.

So many a proud young warrior came to the seaside. And they were
carrying the ring-net, the interlaced coats of mail. And the ward of
the shore noticed the going of the earls, as he did their coming.
Nor with evil intent did he hail the guests from the edge of the
cliff, but rode up to them, and said that welcome and bright-coated
warriors went to the ship to the people of the Geats. Then on the
sand was the spacious craft laden with battle-weeds, the ringed prow
with horses and treasures, and the mast towered high over Hrothgar’s
gifts. And he gave to the captain a sword bound with gold, so that by
the mead-bench he was by that the worthier because of the treasure and
the heirloom. Then he went on board, the deep water to be troubling,
and finally left the land of the Danes. And by the mast was one of
the ocean-garments, a sail fast by a rope. The sea-wood thundered. Nor
did the wind hinder the journey of that ship. The ocean-goer bounded
forth, the foamy-necked one, over the waves, the bound prow over the
ocean streams, till they could see the cliffs of the Geats’ land,
the well-known headlands.

Then the keel thronged up the shore, driven by the wind, and stood
fast in the sand. And the harbor-master was soon on the seashore,
who of yore eagerly had seen from afar the going forth of the dear
men. And he made fast the wide-bosomed ship, by the anchor chains,
so that the less the force of the waves could tear away that winsome
ship. He commanded the treasure of the nobles to be borne up the beach,
the fretted armor and the plated gold. And not far thence it was for
them to be seeking the giver of treasure, Hygelac, Hrethel’s son, for
at home he dwelleth, he and his companions near to the sea-wall. And
splendid was that building, and the Prince was a bold King, and the
halls were high, and Hygd his wife was very young and wise and mature
in her figure, though the daughter of Hæreth had bided in that city
but a very few years. But she was not mean nor miserly with gifts
and treasures to the people of the Geats.

But Thrytho was fierce, for she had committed a terrible crime,
that bold Queen of the folk. There was none that durst risk that dire
thing of the dear companions, save only her lord, that he should
stare on her with his eyes by day; but if he did he might expect
that death-bands were destined for himself, for after the hand-grip a
weapon was quickly prepared, that the sword that was curiously inlaid
should bring to light and make known the death-bale. Nor is it a
queenly custom for a woman to perform, though she might be peerless,
that she should assail the life of a peace-wearer, of her dear lord,
after a pretended insult. At least King Offa, the kinsman of Hemming,
checked her in that. But otherwise said the ale-drinkers, namely that
she did less of bale to her people and of hostile acts, since the time
when she was first given all decked with gold to the young champion,
to her dear lord, since she sought the Hall of Offa over the
fallow flood by the guidance of her father, where on the throne
whilst she lived she well did enjoy her fate, that woman famous
for good works. And she kept great love for the prince of heroes,
and of all mankind he was, as I have learned by asking, the greatest
by two seas. For Offa was a spear-keen man in gifts and in warfare,
and widely was he honored. And he ruled his people wisely. And to
him and Thrytho Eomær was born to the help of heroes, he the kinsman
of Hemming, the nephew of Garmund, was crafty in battle.

XXVIII.

Then the hardy one himself, with his troop set forth to tread the
seashore, going along the sands, the wide sea-beaches. The candle of
the world shone, the sun that was shining from the South. And joyfully
they journeyed, and with courage they marched along, to where they
heard by inquiring, that the good Prince of earls, the banesman of
Ongentheow the young war-king, was giving out rings within the
city. And quickly was made known to Hygelac the coming of Beowulf,
that he the Prince of warriors, the comrade in arms, was returning
alive and hale from the battle-play, was coming to the palace. And
straightway was there room made for the foot-guests on the floor of
the hall by command of the King. And he that had escaped scot-free
from the contest sat with the King, kinsman with kinsman, and the
lord with courteous speech saluted the brave man with high-swelling
words. And the daughter of Hæreth poured forth from the mead-cups
throughout that great hall, for she loved well the people, and carried
round the drinking-stoups to each of the warriors. And Hygelac began
to question his comrade as curiosity prompted him as to the journey of
the Sea-Geats. ‘How went it with thee, dear Beowulf, in thy faring,
when thou didst bethink thee suddenly to be seeking a contest o’er
the salt waters, in battle at Hart? And thou didst requite the widely
known woe which Hrothgar was suffering, that famous lord. And I brooded
o’er that mind-care with sorrow-whelmings, for I trusted not in the
journey of the dear man. And for a long time I bade thee not a whit
to be greeting the murderous stranger, but to let the South Danes
themselves wage war against Grendel. And I now give God thanks that
I see thee safe and sound.’

Beowulf answered, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘O Lord Hygelac, it is well
known to many a man, our famous meeting, and the battle we fought,
Grendel and I, on the wide plain, when he was working great sorrow
to the Danes and misery forever. All that I avenged, so that no
kinsman of Grendel anywhere on earth needed to boast of that uproar
by twilight, no not he of that kindred who liveth the longest,
encircled by the fen. And first, to greet Hrothgar, I went to the
Ring-hall. And straightway the famous kinsman of Healfdene, when
he knew my intention, gave me a place with his own son; and the
troop was all joyful. Nor ever have I seen greater joy amongst any
hall-dwellers under the arch of heaven. Sometimes the famous Queen,
the peace-bringer of the folk, walked over the whole floor and
encouraged the young sons. And often she gave to the man a twisted
ring ere she went to the high seat. And sometimes for the noble band
the daughter of Hrothgar carried the ale-cups to the earls at the end
of the high table. And I heard those who sat in that hall calling her
Freawaru as she gave the studded treasure to the heroes. And she,
young and gold-decked, is betrothed to the glad son of Froda.

The friend of the Danes and the guardian of the kingdom has brought
this to pass, and taken that counsel, so as to set at rest by that
betrothal many a slaughter-feud and ancient strife. And often it
happens that a little while after the fall of a people, the deadly
spear seldom lieth at rest though the bride be doughty. And this
may displease the lord of the Heathobards and all of his thanes
of the people, when he with his bride walketh over the floor, that
his doughty warriors should attend on a noble scion of the Danes,
and the heirloom of the ancients should glisten on him, all hard,
and the ring-sword, the treasure of the Heathobards, whilst they
might be wielding weapons.

XXIX.

‘Till the day on which they risked their own and their comrades’
lives in the battle. Then said an old spear-warrior who remembered
all that had happened, the death of men by spears (his mind was grim),
and he began with sorrowful mind to seek out the thought of the young
champion by broodings of the heart, and to awaken the war-bales,
and this is what he said: “Canst thou recognize, my friend, the dire
sword which thy father carried to the battle, under the visored helm,
on that last journey, when the Danes slew him and had the battle-field
in their power, when Withergyld lay dead after the fall of the
heroes? Now here the son of I know not which of the slayers, all
boasting of treasures, goeth into the hall and boasteth of murder
and carrieth the gift which thou shouldst rightly possess.” Then he
exhorteth and bringeth to mind each of the occasions with sorrowful
words, until the time cometh that the thane of the bride dieth all
stained with blood for the deeds of his father by the piercing of
the sword, having forfeited his life. But the other thence escapeth
alive, for he knows the land well. Then the oath-swearing of earls is
broken on both sides when deadly enmities surge up against Ingeld,
and his love for his wife grows cooler after whelming care. And for
this reason I reckon not sincere the friendliness of the Heathobards
towards the Danes or the troop-peace between them, the plighted troth.

‘Now I speak out again about Grendel, for that thou knowest full
well, O giver of treasure, how went that hand-to-hand fight of the
heroes. When the jewel of heaven glided over the world, then the
angry sprite, the terrible and evening-fierce foe, came to visit
us where we were dwelling in the hall all safe and sound. There was
battle impending to Hondscio, the life-bale to the doomed one. And he
first fell, the champion begirt. For Grendel was to the famous thane
a banesman by biting, and devoured whole the dear man. Nor would he,
the bloody-toothed slayer, mindful of bales, go out empty-handed any
sooner again, forth from the gold-hall; but he proved my strength of
main, and ready-handed he grasped at me. An ample and wondrous glove
hung fast by cunning bands. And it was cunningly fashioned by the
craft of devils, and with skins of the dragon. And the fierce doer
of deeds was wishful to put me therein, one among many. But he could
not do so, for I angrily stood upright. And too long would it be to
tell how I requited all evil to that scather of the people, where I,
O my liege-lord, honoured thy people by means of good deeds. He escaped
on the way, and for a little while he enjoyed life-pleasures. But his
right hand showed his tracks in Hart, and he sank to the bottom of the
sea, all abject and sad of heart. And the lord of the Danes rewarded
me for that battle-rush with many a piece of plated gold, and with
ample treasure, when morning came and we had set ourselves down to
the feasting. And there was singing and rejoicing. And the wise man
of the Danes, who had learned many things, told us of olden days. And
the bold in battle sometimes touched the harp-strings, the wood that
was full of music, and sometimes he gave forth a song that was true
and sad–and sometimes, large-hearted, the King related a wondrous
spell well and truly. And sometimes the old man encumbered by
years, some ancient warrior, lamented his lost youth and strength in
battle. His heart was tumultuous when he, of many winters, recalled
all the number of them. So we rejoiced the livelong day until another
night came down upon men. Then was the mother of Grendel quickly
ready for vengeance, and came on a woful journey, for Death had
carried off her son, that war-hate of the Geats. And the uncanny wife
avenged her child. And Aeschere, that wise and ancient councillor,
departed this life. Nor when morning came might the Danish people
burn him with brand, that death-weary man, nor lay the beloved man
on the funeral pyre. For she bore away the body in her fiendish grip
under the mountain-streams. And that was to Hrothgar the bitterest
of griefs which for long had befallen the Prince of the people. Then
the Prince, sad in mood, by thy life entreated me that I should do a
deed, worthy of an earl, midst welter of waters, and risk my life and
achieve glory. And he promised me rewards. I then discovered the grim
and terrible guardian of the whelming waters, at the sea’s bottom,
so widely talked of. There was a hand-to-hand engagement between
us for a while, and the sea boiled with gore; I cut off the head of
Grendel’s mother in the hall at the bottom of the sea, with powerful
sword. And I scarce saved my life in that conflict. But not yet was
my doomsday. And afterwards the Prince of earls gave me many gifts,
he the son of Healfdene.

XXXI.

‘So in good customs lived the King of the people. Nor had I lost the
rewards, the meed of strength, for the son of Healfdene bestowed
upon me treasures according to my choice, which I will bring to
thee, O my warrior-King, and graciously will I proffer them. Again
all favour depends on thee, for few chief kinsmen have I save thee,
O Hygelac.’ He commanded them to bring in the boar, the head-sign,
the battle-steep helmet, the hoary byrny, the splendid war-sword, and
then he chanted this song: ‘It was Hrothgar, that proud prince, who
bestowed upon me all this battle-gear. And a certain word he uttered
to me, that I should first give thee his kindly greeting. He said
that Hrothgar the King of the Danes possessed it a long while. Nor
formerly would he be giving the breast-weeds to his son the brave
Heoroward, though dear he was to him. Do thou enjoy all well.’

Then I heard that four horses, of reddish yellow hue, followed the
armor. And thus he did him honor with horses and gifts. So should
a kinsman do. By no means should they weave cunning nets for each
other, or with secret craft devise death to a comrade. His nephew
was very gracious to Hygelac, the brave in strife, and each was
striving to bestow favors on the other. And I heard that he gave
to Hygd the neck-ring so curiously and wondrously wrought, which
Wealtheow a daughter of royal birth had given him, and three horses
also slender and saddle-bright. And her breast was adorned with the
ring she had received.

And Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, so famous in warfare and in good deeds,
bore himself boldly and fulfilled his fate, nor did he slay the drunken
hearth-comrades. He was not sad-minded, but he, the battle-dear one, by
the greatest of craft known to man held fast the lasting and generous
gift which God gave him. For long had he been despised, so that the
warriors of the Geats looked not upon him as a good man, nor did the
lord of troops esteem him as of much worth on the mead-bench. Besides,
they thought him slack and by no means a warlike Atheling. Then came a
change from all his distresses to this glorious man. Then the Prince
of Earls, the battle-brave King, commanded that the heirloom of
Hrethel all decked out in gold should be brought in. For of swords
there was no more glorious treasure among the Geats. And he laid
it on the bosom of Beowulf, and gave him seven thousand men and a
building and a throne. And both of them held the land, the earth,
the rights in the land as a hereditary possession; but the other
who was the better man had more especially a wide kingdom.
And in after-days it happened that there were battle-crashings, and
Hygelac lay dead, and swords under shields became a death-bane to
Heardred, when the brave battle-wolves, the Swedes, sought him
out among the victorious ones and assailed with strife the nephew
of Hereric, and it was then that the broad kingdom came into the
possession of Beowulf. And he held sway therein fifty winters (and
a wise King was he, that old guardian of his country) until on dark
nights a dragon began to make raids, he that watched over the hoard
in the lofty cavern, the steep rocky cave. And the path thereto lay
under the cliffs unknown to men. And what man it was who went therein
I know not, but he took from the heathen hoard a hall-bowl decked
with treasure. Nor did he give it back again, though he had beguiled
the guardian of the hoard when he was sleeping, by the craft of a
thief. And Beowulf found out that the dragon was angry.

XXXII.

And it was by no means of his own accord or self-will that he sought
out the craft of the hoard of the dragon who inflicted such evil upon
himself, but rather because being compelled by miseries, the slave
fled the hateful blows of heroes, he that was shelterless and the man
troubled by guilt penetrated therein. And soon it came to pass that
an awful terror arose upon the guest. … And in the earth-house
were all kinds of ancient treasures, such as I know not what man of
great thoughts had hidden there in days of old, the immense heirlooms
of some noble race, costly treasures. And in former times death had
taken them all away, and he alone of the warriors of the people who
longest lingered there, full lonely and sad for loss of friends was
he, and he hoped for a tarrying, that he but for a little while might
enjoy the ancient treasures. And this hill was quite near to the
ocean-waves, and to the sea-nesses, and no one could come near thereto.
And he the guardian of rings carried inside the cave the heavy
treasures of plated gold, and uttered some few words: ‘Do thou,
O earth, hold fast the treasures of earls which heroes may not
hold. What! From thee in days of yore good men obtained it. Deadly
warfare and terrible life-bale carried away all the men of my people
of those who gave up life. They had seen hall-joy. And they saw the
joys of heaven. I have not any one who can carry a sword or polish
the gold-plated cup, the dear drinking-flagon. The doughty ones have
hastened elsewhere. The hard helmet dight with gold shall be deprived
of gold plate. The polishers sleep the sleep of death who should make
ready the battle grim, likewise the coat of mail which endured in the
battle was shattered over shields by the bite of the iron spears and
perishes after the death of the warrior. Nor can the ringed byrny go
far and wide on behalf of heroes, after the passing of the war-chief.

‘No joy of harping is there, nor mirth of stringed instruments, nor
does the goodly hawk swing through the hall, nor doth the swift horse
paw in the courtyard. And death-bale hath sent away many generations
of men.’ Thus then, sad at heart he lamented his sorrowful plight,
one for many, and unblithely he wept both day and night until the
whelming waters of death touched his heart. And the ancient twilight
scather found the joyous treasure standing open and unprotected, he
it was who flaming seeks the cliff-sides, he, the naked and hateful
dragon who flieth by night wrapt about with fire. And the dwellers
upon earth greatly fear him. And he should be seeking the hoard upon
earth where old in winters he guardeth the heathen gold. Nor aught
is he the better thereby.

And thus the scather of the people, the mighty monster, had in
his power the hall of the hoard three hundred years upon the earth
until a man in anger kindled his fury. For he carried off to his
liege-lord the plated drinking-flagon and offered his master a
treaty of peace. Thus was the hoard discovered, the hoard of rings
plundered. And a boon was granted to the miserable man. And the
Lord saw for the first time this ancient work of men. Then awoke
the dragon, and the strife was renewed. He sniffed at the stone,
and the stout-hearted saw the foot-mark of his foe. He had stepped
too far forth with cunning craft near the head of the dragon. So may
anyone who is undoomed easily escape woes and exile who rejoices in
the favor of the Wielder of the world. The guardian of the hoard,
along the ground, was eagerly seeking, and the man would be finding
who had deprived him of his treasure while he was sleeping. Hotly
and fiercely he went around all on the outside of the barrow–but
no man was there in the waste. Still he gloried in the strife and
the battle working. Sometimes he returned to the cavern and sought
the treasure vessels. And soon he found that one of the men had
searched out the gold, the high heap of treasures. The guardian of
the hoard was sorrowfully waiting until evening should come. And very
furious was the keeper of that barrow, and the loathsome one would
fain be requiting the robbery of that dear drinking-stoup with fire
and flame. Then, as the dragon wished, day was departing. Not any
longer would he wait within walls, but went forth girt with baleful
fire. And terrible was this beginning to the people in that country,
and sorrowful would be the ending to their Lord, the giver of treasure.

XXXIII.

Then the Fiend began to belch forth fire, and to burn up the glorious
palace. And the flames thereof were a horror to men. Nor would the
loathly air-flier leave aught living thereabouts. And this warfare
of the dragon was seen far and wide by men, this striving of the foe
who caused dire distress, and how the war-scather hated and harmed
the people of the Geats. And he hurried back to his hoard and the
dark cave-hall of which he was lord, ere it was day-dawn. He had
encircled the dwellers in that land with fire and brand. He trusted in
his cavern, and in battle and his cliff-wall. But his hope deceived
him. Then was the terror made known to Beowulf, quickly and soothly,
namely that his very homestead, that best of houses, that throne of
the Geats, was dissolving in the whelming fire. And full rueful was
it to the good man, and the very greatest of sorrows.

And the wise man was thinking that he had bitterly angered the
Wielder of all things, the eternal God, in the matter of some ancient
customs. And within his breast, gloomy brooding was welling, as
was by no means his wont. The fiery dragon had destroyed by flame the
stronghold of the people, both the sea-board and neighbouring land. And
therefore the King of the Weder-Geats planned revenge upon him.

Now Beowulf the Prince of earls and protector of warriors commanded
them to fashion him a glorious war-shield all made of iron. For he
well knew that a wooden shield would be unavailing against flames. For
he, the age-long noble Atheling, must await the end of days that
were fleeting of this world-life, he and the dragon together, though
long he had held sway over the hoard of treasure. And the Prince of
rings scorned to employ a troop against the wide-flying monster in
the great warfare. Nor did he dread the striving, nor did he think
much of this battle with the dragon, of his might and courage, for
that formerly in close conflict had he escaped many a time from the
crashings of battle since he, the victorious sword-man, cleansed the
great hall in Hart, of Hrothgar his kinsman, and had grappled in the
contest with the mother of Grendel, of the loathly kin.

Nor was that the least hand-to-hand fight, when Hygelac was slain
there in the Frisian land when the King of the Geats, the friendly
lord of the folk, the son of Hrethel, died in the battle-rush beaten
down by the sword, drunk with blood-drinking. Then fled Beowulf by
his very own craft and swam through the seas. And he had on his
arm alone thirty battle-trappings when he went down to the sea. Nor
did the Hetware need to be boasting, of that battle on foot, they who
bore their linden shields against him. And few of them ever reached
their homes safe from that wolf of the battle.

But Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, swam o’er the expanse of waters,
miserable and solitary, back to his people, where Hygd proffered him
treasures and a kingdom, rings and dominion. She did not think that
her son Heardred would know how to hold their native seats against
strangers, now that Hygelac was dead. Nor could the wretched people
prevail upon the Atheling (Beowulf) in any wise to show himself lord
of Heardred or to be choosing the kingship. Nevertheless he gave
friendly counsel to the folk with grace and honor until that he
(Heardred) was older and held sway over the Weder-Geats.

Then those exiles the sons of Ohthere sought him over the seas; they
had rebelled against the Lord of the Swedes, the best of the sea-kings,
that famous chieftain of those who bestowed rings in Sweden. And that
was life’s limit to him. For the son of Hygelac, famishing there,
was allotted a deadly wound by the swing of a sword. And the son of
Ongentheow went away thence to visit his homestead when Heardred lay
dead, and left Beowulf to sit on the throne and to rule the Goths. And
he was a good King.

XXXIV.

He was minded in after-days to be requiting the fall of the prince. He
was a friend to the wretched Eadgils, and helped Eadgils the son
of Ohthere with an army with warriors and with weapons, over the
wide seas. And then he wrought vengeance with cold and painful
journeyings and deprived the king (Onela) of life. Thus the son
of Ecgtheow had escaped all the malice and the hurtful contests and
the courageous encounters, until the day on which he was to wage war
with the dragon. And so it came to pass that the Lord of the Geats
went forth with twelve others and inflamed with fury, to spy out the
dragon. For he had heard tell of the malice and hatred he had shown
to men, whence arose that feud.

And by the hand of the informer, famous treasure came into
their possession; he was the thirteenth man in the troop who set on
foot the beginning of the conflict. And the sorrowful captive must
show the way thither. He against his will went to the earth-hall,
for he alone knew the barrow under the ground near to the sea-surge,
where it was seething, the cavern that was full of ornaments and
filagree. And the uncanny guardian thereof, the panting war-wolf,
held possession of the treasures, and an ancient was he under the
earth. And it was no easy bargain to be gaining for any living man.

So the battle-hardened King sat down on the cliff, and took leave of
his hearth-comrades, he the gold-friend of the Geats. And his heart
was sad, wavering, and ready for death, and Weird came very near
to him who would be greeting the venerable warrior and be seeking
his soul-treasure, to divide asunder his life from his body. And
not long after that was the soul of the Atheling imprisoned in the
flesh. Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘Many a war-rush I escaped
from in my youth, in times of conflict. And well I call it all to
mind. I was seven years old when the Lord of Treasures, the friendly
lord of the folk, took me away from my father–and King Hrethel
had me in thrall, and gave me treasure and feasted me and kept the
peace. Nor was I a whit less dear a child to him than any of his own
kin, Herebald and Hæthcyn or my own dear Hygelac. And for the eldest
was a murder-bed most unhappily made up by the deeds of a kinsman,
when Hæthcyn his lordly friend brought him low with an arrow
from out of his horn-bow, and missing the mark he shot through his
brother with a bloody javelin. And that was a fight not to be atoned
for by gifts of money; and a crime it was, and wearying to the soul
in his breast. Nevertheless the Atheling must unavenged be losing his
life. For so is it a sorrowful thing for a venerable man to see his
son riding the gallows-tree when he singeth a dirge a sorrowful song,
as his son hangeth, a joy to the ravens. And he, very old, may not
give him any help. And every morning at the feasting he is reminded
of his son’s journey else-whither. And he careth not to await another
heir within the cities, when he alone through the fatality of death
hath found out the deeds.

‘Heartbroken he looks on the bower of his son, on the wasted wine-hall,
become the hiding-place for the winds and bereft of the revels. The
riders are sleeping, the heroes in the tomb. Nor is any sound of
harping, or games in the courts as erewhile there were.

XXXV.

‘Then he goeth to the sleeping-place and chanteth a sorrow-song,
the one for the other. And all too spacious seemed to him the fields
and the dwelling-house. So the Prince of the Geats bore welling
heart-sorrow after Herebald’s death, nor a whit could he requite the
feud on the murderer, nor visit his hate on that warrior with loathly
deeds, though by no means was he dear to him. He then forsook the joys
of life because of that sorrow-wound which befell him, and chose the
light of God, and left to his sons land and towns when he departed
this life as a rich man doth. Then was there strife and struggle
between the Swedes and the Geats, and over the wide seas there was
warfare between them, a hardy battle-striving when Hrethel met with his
death. And the children of Ongentheow were brave and battle-fierce,
and would not keep the peace on the high seas, but round about
Hreosnaborg they often worked terrible and dire distress. And my
kinsmen wrought vengeance for that feud and crime as all men know,
though the other bought his life with a hard bargain. And war was
threatening Hæthcyn the lord of the Geats. Then I heard tell that
on the morrow one brother the other avenged on the slayer with the
edge of the sword, whereas Ongentheow seeketh out Eofor. The
war-helmet was shattered, and the Ancient of the Swedes fell prone,
all sword-pale. And well enough the hand kept in mind the feud and
withheld not the deadly blow. And I yielded him back in the warfare
the treasures he gave me with the flashing sword, as was granted to
me. And he gave me land and a dwelling and a pleasant country. And
he had no need to seek among the Gifthas or the Spear-Danes or in
Sweden a worse war-wolf, or to buy one that was worthy.

‘And I would always be before him in the troop, alone in the front
of the battle, and so for ever will I be striving, whilst this sword
endureth, that earlier and later has often stood me in good stead,
since the days when for doughtiness I was a hand-slayer to Day
Raven the champion of the Hugs. Nor was he fated to bring ornaments
or breast-trappings to the Frisian King, but he the guardian of
the standard, he the Atheling, fell on the battle-field, all too
quickly. Nor was the sword-edge his bane, but the battle-grip broke
the whelmings of his heart and the bones of his body. Now shall my
sword-edge, my hand and hard weapon, be fighting for the hoard.’
Beowulf moreover now for the last time spake these boastful words: ‘In
many a war I risked my life in the days of my youth, yet still will I
seek a feud, I the old guardian of the people will work a glorious deed
if the wicked scather cometh out from his earth-palace to seek me.’

Then he saluted for the last time each of the warriors, the brave
wearers of helmets, the dear companions. ‘I would not carry a sword
or weapon against the dragon if I knew how else I might maintain my
boast against the monster, as I formerly did against Grendel. But
in this conflict I expect the hot battle-fire, both breath and
poison. Therefore I have both shield and byrny. I will not flee from
the warder of the barrow a foot’s-space, but it shall be with me at
the wall of the barrow as Weird shall direct, who created all men. I
am strong in soul so that I will refrain from boasting against the
war-flier. Await ye on the barrow guarded by byrnies, O ye warriors in
armour, and see which of us two will better survive his wounds after
the battle-rush. This is no journey for you nor fitting for any man
save only for me, that he should share a conflict with the monster
and do deeds worthy of an earl. I will gain possession of the gold
by my courage, or battle and deadly evil shall take away your lord.’

Then the strong warrior, hard under helm, arose beside his shield and
carried his shirt of mail under the rocky cliffs and trusted in the
strength of himself alone. Nor was that a coward’s journey. Then
Beowulf, possessed of manly virtues, who had escaped in many a
conflict and crashing of battle when men encountered on foot, saw
standing by the wall of the barrow an arch of rock, and a stream
broke out thence from the barrow, and the whelming of that river
was hot with battle-fires. Nor could he survive any while near to
the hoard unburnt because of the flame of the dragon. Then in a fury
the Prince of the Weder-Geats let a torrent of words escape from his
breast and the stout-hearted one stormed. And his war-clear voice
resounded under the hoar cliffs. And hatred was stirred, for the
guardian of the hoard recognized well the voice of Beowulf. And that
was no time to be seeking friendship. And the breath of the monster,
the hot battle-sweat, came forth from the rock at the first and
the earth resounded. The warrior, the Lord of the Geats, raised his
shield under the barrow against the terrible sprite. Now the heart of
the dragon was stirred up to seek the conflict. The good war-king had
formerly drawn his sword, the ancient heirloom, not slow of edge. And
each of them who intended evil was a terror the one to the other. And
the stern-minded one, he the Prince of friendly rulers, stood by his
steep shield, and he and the dragon fell quickly together. Beowulf
waited warily all in his war-gear. Then the flaming monster bent as
he charged, hastening to his doom. The shield well protected life and
body of the famous warrior for a lesser while than he had willed it
if he was to be wielding victory in that contest on the first day;
but Weird had not so fated it. And the Lord of the Geats uplifted his
hand, and struck at the horribly bright one heavy with heirlooms,
so that the edge stained with blood gave way on the bone and bit
in less strongly than its master had need of when pressed by the
business. Then after the battle-swing the guardian of the barrow was
rough-minded and cast forth slaughter-fire. Battle-flames flashed
far and wide. And the son of the Geats could not boast of victory
in the conflict. The sword had failed him, naked in the battle,
as was unfitting for so well tempered a steel. And it was not easy
for the famous son of Ecgtheow to give up possession of the bottom
of the sea, and that he should against his will dwell in some place
far otherwhere, as must each man let go these fleeting days sooner or
later. And not long after this Beowulf and the monster met together
again. The guardian of the hoard took good heart, and smoke was fuming
in his breast. And fierce were his sufferings as the flames embraced
him, he who before had ruled over the folk. Nor at all in a troop
did his hand-comrades stand round him, that warrior of Athelings,
showing courage in the battle, but they fled into a wood their lives
to be saving. And the mind of one of them was surging with sorrows,
for to him whose thoughts are pure, friendship cannot ever change.

XXXVI.

Wiglaf was he called, he who was the son of Weohstan, the beloved
shield-warrior, the Prince of the Danes and the kinsman of Aelfhere. He
saw his lord suffering burning pain under his visor. Then he called
to mind the favour that he (Beowulf) had bestowed upon him in days
of yore, the costly dwelling of the Waegmundings and all the
folk-rights which his father had possessed. Then he could not restrain
himself, but gripped the shield with his hand, the yellow wood, and
drew forth the old sword which was known among men as the heirloom
of Eanmund, the son of Ohthere, and in the striving Weohstan was
banesman by the edge of the sword to that friendless exile and bore
away to his kinsman the brown-hued helmet, the ringed byrny, and
the old giant’s sword that Onela had given him, the war-weeds
of his comrade, and the well-wrought armour for fighting. Nor did
he speak of the feud, though he slew his brother’s son. And he held
possession of the treasures many years, both the sword and the byrny,
until such time as his son should hold the earlship as his father
had done. And he gave to the Geats a countless number of each kind
of war-weeds, when he in old age passed away from this life, on the
outward journey. That was the first time for the young champion that
he went into the war-rush with his noble lord. Nor did his mind melt
within him, nor did the heirloom of his kinsman at the war-tide. And
the dragon discovered it when they two came together.

Wiglaf spake many fitting words, and said to his comrades (for his
mind was sad within him): ‘I remember the time when we partook of the
mead, and promised our liege-lord in the beer-hall, he who gave to
us rings, that we would yield to him war-trappings both helmets and a
hand-sword, if such need befell him. And he chose us for this warfare,
and for this journey, of his own free will, and reminded us of glory;
and to me he gave these gifts when he counted us good spear-warriors
and brave helmet-bearers, although our lord, this guardian of the
people had it in his mind all alone to do this brave work for us,
for he most of all men could do glorious things and desperate deeds
of war. And now is the day come that our lord hath need of our prowess
and of goodly warriors. Let us then go to the help of our battle-lord
while it lasts, the grim terror of fire. God knows well of me that
I would much rather that the flame should embrace my body together
with that of my lord the giver of gold. Nor does it seem to me to be
fitting that we should carry shields back to the homestead except we
have first laid low the foe and protected the life of the Prince of
the Weders. And well I know that his old deserts were not that
he alone of the youth of the Geats should suffer grief and sink in
the fighting. So both sword and helmet, byrny and shield shall be
common to both of us together.’

Then he waded through the slaughter-reek, and bore the war-helmet
to the help of his lord, and uttered a few words: ‘Beloved Beowulf,
do thou be doing all things, as thou of yore in the days of thy youth
wast saying that thou wouldst not allow thy glory to be dimmed whilst
thou wast living. Now shalt thou, the brave in deeds and the resolute
noble, save thy life with all thy might. I am come to help thee.’ After
these words came the angry dragon, the terrible and hostile sprite
yet once again, and decked in his various hues of whelmings of fire,
against his enemies, the men that he hated. And the wood of the
shield was burnt up with the waves of flame, and his byrny could
not help the young spear-warrior; yet did the youth bravely advance
under the shield of his kinsman when his own had been destroyed by the
flames. Then again the war-king bethought him of glory, and struck a
mighty blow with his battle-sword so that it fixed itself in his head,
forced in by violence. And Naegling, Beowulf’s sword old and grey,
broke in pieces, and failed in the contest. It was not given to him
that sharp edges of swords should help him in battle. His hand was
too strong, so that it overtaxed every sword, as I have been told,
by the force of its swing, whenever he carried into battle a wondrous
hand-weapon. And he was nowise the better for a sword. Then for the
third time, the scather of the people, the terrible Fire-dragon,
was mindful of feuds, and he rushed on the brave man when he saw
that he had room, all hot and battle-grim, and surrounded his neck
with bitter bones. And he was all be-bloodied over with life-blood,
and the sweat welled up in waves.

XXXVII.

Then I heard tell that the Earl of the King of the People showed in his
time of need unfailing courage in helping him with craft and keenness,
as was fitting for him to do. He paid no heed to the head of the dragon
(but the brave man’s hand was being burnt when he helped his kinsman),
but that warrior in arms struck at the hostile sprite somewhat lower in
his body so that his shining and gold-plated sword sank into his body,
and the fire proceeding therefrom began to abate. Then the good King
Beowulf got possession of his wits again, and drew his bitter and
battle-sharp short sword that he bore on his shield. And the King
of the Geats cut asunder the dragon in the midst of his body. And
the fiend fell prone; courage had driven out his life, and they two
together had killed him, noble comrades in arms. And thus should a
man who is a thane always be helping his lord at his need. And that
was the very last victory achieved by that Prince during his life-work.

Then the wound which the Earth-dragon had formerly dealt him began
to burn and to swell. And he soon discovered that the baleful
venom was seething in his breast, the internal poison. Then the
young noble looked on the giant’s work as he sat on a seat musing
by the cliff wall, how arches of rock, firmly on columns held the
eternal earth-house within. Then the most noble thane refreshed his
blood-stained and famous Lord, his dear and friendly Prince with water,
with his own hands, and loosened the helmet for the battle-sated
warrior. And Beowulf spake, over his deathly pitiful wound, for well
he knew that he had enjoyed the day’s while of his earthly joy: and
the number of his days was all departed and death was coming very near.

‘Now,’ said Beowulf, ‘I would have given battle-weeds to my son if any
heir had been given to me of my body. I held sway over these peoples
fifty years. And there was no folk-king of those who sat round about
who dared to greet me with swords, or oppress with terror. At home
have I bided my appointed time, and well I held my own, nor did
I seek out cunning feuds, nor did I swear many unrighteous oaths. And
I, sick of my life-wounds, can have joy of all this. For the Wielder
of men cannot reproach me with murder of kinsmen when my life shall
pass forth from my body. Now do thou, beloved Wiglaf, go quickly and
look on the hoard under the hoar stone, now that the dragon lieth
prone and asleep sorely wounded and bereft of his treasure. And do
thou make good speed that I may look upon the ancient gold treasures
and yarely be feasting mine eyes upon the bright and cunning jewels,
so that thereby after gazing on that wealth of treasure I may the
more easily give up my life and my lordship over the people, whom I
have ruled so long.’

XXXVIII.

Then straightway I heard tell how the son of Weohstan, after these
words had been spoken, obeyed the behest of his lord, who was sick
of his wounds, and carried the ring-net and the coat of mail adorned,
under the roof of the barrow. And as Wiglaf, exulting in victory, came
by the seat, he saw many gems shining and shaped like the sun and
gleaming gold all lying on the ground, and wondrous decorations on the
wall, and he saw too the den of the dragon, the ancient twilight-flier,
and flagons standing there and vessels of men of days long gone by,
no longer polished but shorn of adornment. And there also was many
a helmet, ancient and rusty, and many arm-rings cunningly twisted.

The possession of treasure and of gold on the earth may easily make
proud all of mankind, let him hide it who will. Likewise he saw the
all-gilded banner lying high over the hoard, that greatest of wondrous
handiwork and all woven by the skill of human hands. And therefrom
went forth a ray of light, so that he could see the floor of the cave,
and look carefully at the jewels. And there was no sign of the dragon,
for the sword-edge had carried him off.

Then I heard tell how in that barrow one at his own doom plundered
the hoard, that old work of giants, and bore away on his arms both
cups and dishes. And the banner also he took, that brightest of
beacons. Beowulf’s sword, with its iron edge, had formerly injured
him who had been the protector of these treasures for a long time,
and had waged fierce flame-terror, because of the hoard fiercely
welling in the midnight hour until he was killed.

The messenger was in haste, and eager for the return journey, and
laden with jewels, and curiosity tormented him as to whether he would
find the bold-minded Prince of the Geats alive on the battle-field,
and bereft of strength where before he had left him. Then he with the
treasures found the glorious lord, his own dear master, at the last
gasp, and all stained with blood. And he began to throw water upon him,
until the power of speech brake through his mind, and Beowulf spake,
and with sorrow he looked upon the hoard.

‘I would utter words of thanks to the Lord and wondrous King, to the
eternal God, for the treasures which now I am looking upon that I have
managed to obtain them for my dear people before my death-day. Now that
I have in exchange for this hoard of treasure sold my life in my old
age, and laid it down, do thou still be helping the people in their
need, for I may no longer be lingering here. Do thou bid the famous
warriors erect a burial-mound, after the burning of the funeral pyre,
at the edge of the sea, which shall tower aloft on Whale’s Ness,
as a memorial for my people, and so the sea-farers shall call it
the Hill of Beowulf, even those who drive the high ships from afar
through the mists of the flood.’

Then he the bold Prince doffed from his neck the golden ring. And he
gave it to his thane, to the young spear-warrior, the gold-adorned
helmet, the ring, and the byrny, and bade him enjoy it well. ‘Thou,
O Wiglaf,’ he said, ‘art the last heir of our race, of that of the
Waegmundings. Weird has swept away all my kinsmen to their fated doom,
all the earls in their strength, and I shall follow after them.’

Now that was the very last word of the old warrior’s breast thoughts,
ere he chose the funeral pyre the hot wave-whelmings. And his soul went
forth from his breast to be seeking the doom of the truth-fast ones.

XXXIX.

Then had it sorrowfully come to pass for the young warrior that he
saw his most beloved in a miserable plight on the earth at his life’s
end. Likewise the terrible dragon, his slayer, lay there bereft of life
and pressed sore by ruin. And the coiled dragon could no longer wield
the hoard of rings, but the iron edges of the sword, well tempered
and battle-gashed; the hammer’s leavings, had carried him off,
so that the wide-flier, stilled because of his wounds, fell to the
earth near to the hoard-hall. And no more in playful wise at the
midnight hour, did he drift through the air; this dragon, proud in
his gainings of treasure, showed not his face, but was fallen to the
earth because of the handiwork of the battle-warrior.

And as I have heard, it would have profited but few of the mighty
men, even though they were doughty in deeds of all kinds, though they
should rush forth against the flaming breath of the poisonous scather,
even to the very disturbing of the Ring-Hall with their hands, if
they should have found the guardian thereof awake, and dwelling in
the cliff-cave. Then Beowulf’s share of lordly treasure was paid for
by his death. And both he and the dragon had come to an end of their
fleeting days.

And not long after that, the laggards in battle, those cowardly
treaty-breakers, ten of them together, came back from the woodlands,
they who erewhile had dreaded the play of javelins when their lord
had sore need of their help. But they were filled with shame, and
carried their shields, and battle-weeds, to where the old prince was
lying. And they looked on Wiglaf; he the foot-warrior sat aweary near
to the shoulders of his lord, and sought to rouse him by sprinkling
water upon him, but he succeeded not at all. Nor could he, though he
wished it ever so much, keep life in the chieftain or avert a whit
the will of the Wielder of all things. Every man’s fate was decided
by the act of God, as is still the case. Then was a grim answer easily
given by the young man to these who erewhile had lost their courage.
Wiglaf spake, he the son of Weohstan, the sad-hearted. ‘He who will
speak truth may say that the lord and master who gave you gifts, and
warlike trappings, in which ye are now standing, when he very often
gave on the ale-bench to them who sat in the hall, both helmet and
byrny, the Prince to his thanes, as he could find any of you most noble
far or near, that he wholly wrongly bestowed upon you war-trappings
when war befell him. The King of the folk needed not indeed to boast
of his army comrades, yet God, the Wielder of Victory, granted to
him that alone he avenged himself with the edge of the sword when he
had need of strength. And but a little life-protection could I give
him in the battle, yet I sought to help him beyond my strength. The
dragon was by so much the weaker when I struck with my sword that
deadly foe. And less fiercely the fire surged forth from his head. Too
few were the defenders thronged around their lord when his fated hour
came. And now shall the receiving of treasure, and the gift of swords,
and all joy of home and hope cease for ever to men of your kin. And
every man of you of the tribe must wander empty of land-rights,
since noble men will learn far and wide of your flight and inglorious
deed. Death would be better for earls than a life of reproach.’

XL.

Then he bade them announce that battle-work at the entrenchment up over
the sea-cliff where that troop of earls sat sorrowful in soul through
the morning-long day, holding their shields and in expectation of the
end of the day and the return of the dear man. And he who rode to and
fro o’er the headland was little sparing of fresh tidings, but said
to all who were sitting there, ‘Now is the joy-giver of the people
of the Geats fast on his death-bed, and by the deed of the dragon
he inhabits the place of rest gained by a violent death. And by his
side lieth the enemy of his life, sick of his dagger-wounds. Nor
could he inflict with the sword any wound on that monster. Wiglaf
sits over Beowulf, he the son of Weohstan, the earl over the other
one who is dead, and reverently keeps ward over the loathèd and the
belovèd. But there is an expectation of a time of war to the people,
since to Franks and Frisians the fall of the King has become widely
known. The hard strife was shapen against the Hugs, when Hygelac came
with a fleet into the Frisian lands where the Hetware overcame
him in battle, and by their great strength and courage brought it to
pass that the shield-warrior should stoop. He fell in the troop. Nor
did the Prince give jewelled armour to the doughty ones. The mercy of
the Merewing was not always shown to us. Nor do I expect aught
of peace or good faith from the Swedish People. But it was well known
that Ongentheow bereft Hæthcyn the son of Hrethel of life
over against Ravenswood, when because of pride the warlike Swedes first
sought out the people of the Geats. Soon Ongentheow the wise father of
Ohthere, the ancient and terrible, gave him (Hæthcyn) a return blow,
destroyed the sea-kings, and rescued his bride (Queen Elan) he the
old man rescued his wife bereft of gold, the mother of Onela and of
Ohthere, and then followed up the deadly foe until with difficulty they
retreated all lord-less to Ravenswood. And he attacked the remnant
with a great army, weary though he was with his wounds. And
the live-long night he vowed woe upon the wretched troop, and said
that on the morrow he would by the edge of the sword slay some and
hang them up on the gallows-tree for a sport of the birds. But help
came to the sorrowful in soul at the dawn of day, when they heard
the horn of Hygelac and the blast of his trumpet when the good man
came on the track faring with the doughty warriors of the people.

XLI.

‘And the blood-track of both Swedes and Geats, the slaughter-rush of
warriors, was widely seen how the folk stirred up the feud amongst
them. The good man, wise and very sad, went away with his comrades to
seek out a stronghold. Earl Ongentheow turned away to higher ground,
for he the war-crafty one had heard of the prowess of Hygelac the
proud. He had no trust in his power to resist, or that he would be
able to refuse the demands of the seamen, the ocean-farers, or defend
the treasure he had taken, the children and the bride. Thence
afterwards, being old, he sought refuge under the earth-wall. Then
was chase given to the people of the Swedes and the banner of Hygelac
borne aloft; and they swept o’er the field of peace when the sons of
Hrethel thronged to the entrenchment. And there too, was Ongentheow,
he the grey-haired King of the People driven to bay at the edge of the
sword, and forced to submit to the sole doom of Eofor. And angrily
did Wulf, son of Wanred, smite him with weapon, so that from that
swinging blow blood-sweat gushed forth in streams under the hair of
his head. Yet the old Swede was not terrified thereby, but quickly
gave back a terrible blow by a worse exchange when the King of the
people turned thither. Nor could Wulf the bold son of Wanred give
back a blow to the old churl, for Ongentheow had formerly cut his
helmet in two, so that he, stained with blood, fell prone perforce
to the ground. But not yet was he doomed, but he raised himself up,
though the wound touched him close. And the hardy thane of Hygelac
(Eofor) when his brother lay prostrate, caused the broad sword, the old
giant’s sword, to crash through the wall of shields upon the gigantic
helmet. Then stooped the King, the shepherd of the people, mortally
wounded. And there were many who bound up his kinsman and quickly
upraised him when room had been made so that they might possess the
battle-field, while one warrior was plundering another. One took the
iron shield of Ongentheow, and his hard-hilted sword, and his helmet,
and carried the trappings of the old man to Hygelac. And he received
the treasures, and fairly he promised reward for the people, and he
did as he promised. The lord of the Geats (Hygelac) son of Hrethel,
rewarded with very costly gifts the battle onset of Eofor and Wulf when
he got back to his palace, and bestowed upon each of them a hundred
thousand, of land and locked rings. Nor could any man in the world
reproach him for that reward, since they had gained glory by fighting;
and he gave to Eofor his only daughter, she who graced his homestead,
to wed as a favour. And this is the feud and the enmity and hostile
strife of men, which I expect the Swedish people will seek to awaken
against us when they shall hear we have lost our Prince, he who in
days of yore held treasure and kingdom against our foes after the
fall of heroes, and held in check the fierce Swede, and did what was
good for the people and deeds worthy of an earl. Now is it best for
us to hasten to look upon our King and bring him who gave to us rings
to the funeral pyre. Nor shall a part only of the treasure be melted
with the proud man, but there is a hoard of wealth, an immense mass
of gold, bought at a grim cost, for now at the very end of his life
he bought for us rings. And the brands shall devour all the treasures
and the flames of the funeral fire, they shall enfold them, nor shall
an earl carry away any treasure as a memorial, nor shall any maid all
beauteous wear on her neck ring adornments, but shall go sad of soul
and bereft of gold, and often not once only tread an alien land now
that the battle-wise man (Beowulf) has laid aside laughter, the games
and the joys of song. And many a morning cold shall the spear in the
hand-grip be heaved up on high, nor shall there be the sound of harping
to awaken the warriors, but the war-raven, eager over the doomed ones,
shall say many things to the eagle how it fared with him in eating
the carrion while he, with the wolf, plundered the slaughtered.’

Thus then was the brave warrior reciting loathly spells. And he
lied not at all in weird or word. Then the troop rose up together,
and all unblithely went under Eagles’ Ness, to look on the wonder,
and tears were welling. Then they found him on the sand in his last
resting-place, and bereft of soul, who had given them rings in days
gone by, and then had the last day drawn to its close, for the good
man Beowulf, the warrior King, the Lord of the Weder-Goths, had died
a wondrous death.

But before this they had seen a more marvellous sight, the dragon
on the sea-plain, the loathsome one lying right opposite. And there
was the fire-dragon grimly terrible, and scorched with fire. And
he was fifty feet in length as he lay there stretched out. He had
had joy in the air awhile by night, but afterwards he went down to
visit his den. But now he was the prisoner of death, and had enjoyed
his last of earth-cares. And by him stood drinking-cups and flagons,
and dishes were lying there and a costly sword, all rusty and eaten
through as though they had rested a thousand winters in the bosom of
the earth. And those heirlooms were fashioned so strongly, the gold of
former races of men, and all wound round with spells, so that no man
could come near that Ring-hall, unless God only, Himself the true King
of victories, gave power to open up the hoard to whom He would (for
He is the Protector of men) even to that man as it seemed good to Him.

XLII.

Then was it quite clear to them that the affair had not prospered
with the monster, who had hidden ornaments within the cave under the
cliff. The guardian thereof had slain some few in former days. Then
had the feud been wrathfully avenged. And it is a mystery anywhere
when a valiant earl reaches the end of his destiny, when a man may
no longer with his kinsman dwell in the mead-hall. And thus was
it with Beowulf when he sought out the guardian of the cavern and
his cunning crafts. And he himself knew not how his departure from
this world would come about. And thus famous chieftains uttered deep
curses until the day of doom, because they had allowed it to come to
pass that the monster should be guilty of such crimes, and, accursed
and fast with hell-bands, as he was, and tormented with plagues that
he should plunder the plain. He (Beowulf) was not greedy of gold,
and had more readily in former days seen the favor of God.

Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan: ‘Often shall many an earl of his
own only will suffer misery, as is our fate. Nor could we teach the
dear lord and shepherd of the kingdom any wisdom so that he would fail
to be meeting the keeper of the gold treasures (the dragon) or to let
him stay where he had been long time dwelling in his cavern until the
world’s end. But he held to his high destiny. Now the hoard is seen by
us, grimly got hold of, and at too great a cost was it yielded to the
King of the people whom he enticed to that conflict. I was within the
cavern, and looked upon all the hoard, the decoration of the palace,
when by no means pleasantly, room was made for me, and a faring was
granted to me in under the sea-cliff. And in much haste I took a very
great burden of hoard-treasures in my hand, and bore it forth hither to
my King. He was still alive, wise and witting well. And he the ancient
uttered many words in sadness, and bade me greet you, and commanded
that ye should build after death of your friend a high grave-mound
in the place of the funeral pyre, a great and famous monument,
for he himself was the most worshipful of men throughout the earth,
while he was enjoying the wealth of his city. Let us now go and see
and seek yet once again the heap of treasures, the wonder under the
cliff. I will direct you, so that ye may look at close quarters upon
the rings and the wealth of gold. Let the bier be quickly made ready
when we come forth again, and then let us carry the dear man our lord
when he shall enjoy the protection of the Ruler of all things.’

Then the son of Weohstan, the battle-dear warrior, ordered that
commandment should be given to many a hero and householder that
they should bring the wood for the funeral pyre from far, they the
folk-leaders, to where the good man lay dead.

‘Now the war-flame shall wax and the fire shall eat up the strong
chief among warriors, him who often endured the iron shower, when
the storm of arrows, strongly impelled, shot over the shield-wall,
and the shaft did good service, and all eager with its feather, fear
followed and aided the barb.’ Then the proud son of Weohstan summoned
from the troop the thanes of the King, seven of them together, and the
very best of them, and he the eighth went under the hostile roof. And
one of the warriors carried in his hand a torch which went on in front.

And no wise was it allotted who should plunder that hoard, since
they saw some part unguarded remaining in the Hall, and lying there
fleeting.

And little did any man mourn when full heartily they carried forth
the costly treasures. Then they shoved the dragon the worm over the
cliff-wall, and let the wave take him and the flood embrace that
guardian of the treasures. Then the twisted golden ornaments were
loaded on a wagon, an immense number of them. And the noble Atheling,
the hoar battle-warrior, was carried to Whales’ Ness.

XLIII.

Then the People of the Geats got ready the mighty funeral pyre, and
hung it round with helmets and battle-shields, and bright byrnies as
he had asked. And in the midst they lay the famous Prince, and they
lamented the Hero, their dear lord. Then the warriors began to stir
up the greatest of bale-fires on the cliff-side. And the reek of the
wood-smoke went up swart, over the flame, which was resounding, and
its roar mingled with weeping (and the tumult of winds was still),
until it had broken the body, all hot into the heart. And unhappy
in their thinkings, and with minds full of care, they proclaim the
death of their lord, likewise a sorrowful song the Bride….

And heaven swallowed up the smoke. Then on the cliff-slopes the people
of the Geats erected a mound, very high and very broad, that it might
be beholden from afar by the wave-farers; and they set up the beacon
of the mighty in battle in ten days. And the leavings of the funeral
fire they surrounded with a wall, so that very proud men might find
it to be most worthy of reverence.

And they did on the barrow rings and necklaces, and all such adornments
as formerly warlike men had taken of the hoard. And they allowed the
earth to hold the treasure of earls, the gold on the ground, where it
still is to be found as useless to men as it always was. Then
the battle-dear men rode round about the mound, the children of the
Athelings, twelve of them there were in all, and would be uttering
their sorrows and lamenting their King, and reciting a dirge, and
speaking of their champion. And they talked of his earlship and of
his brave works, and deemed them doughty, as is fitting that a man
should praise his lord in words and cherish him in his heart when he
shall have gone forth from the fleeting body. So the People of the
Geats lamented over the fall of their lord, his hearth-companions,
and said that he was a world-king, and the mildest, the gentlest of
men, and most tender to his people, and most eager for their praise.