| |
| “UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed | |
| by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails | |
| from foul behest of the hellish fiend. 1 | |
| Him seems too little what long he possessed. | |
| Greedy and grim, no golden rings | 5 |
| he gives for his pride; the promised future | |
| forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him, | |
| Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame. | |
| Yet in the end it ever comes | |
| that the frame of the body fragile yields, | 10 |
| fatéd falls; and there follows another | |
| who joyously the jewels divides, | |
| the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear. | |
| Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf dearest, | |
| best of men, and the better part choose, | 15 |
| profit eternal; and temper thy pride, | |
| warrior famous! The flower of thy might | |
| lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be | |
| that sickness or sword thy strength shall minish, | |
| or fang of fire, or flooding billow, | 20 |
| or bite of blade, or brandished spear, | |
| or odious age; or the eyes’ clear beam | |
| wax dull and darken: Death even thee | |
| in haste shall o’erwhelm, thou hero of war! | |
| So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I ruled, | 25 |
| wielded ’neath welkin, and warded them bravely | |
| from mighty-ones many o’er middle-earth, | |
| from spear and sword, till it seemed for me | |
| no foe could be found under fold of the sky. | |
| Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure | 30 |
| came grief for joy when Grendel began | |
| to harry my home, the hellish foe; | |
| for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered | |
| heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked, | |
| Lord Eternal, for life extended | 35 |
| that I on this head all hewn and bloody, | |
| after long evil, with eyes may gaze! | |
| —Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet, | |
| warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure | |
| at dawn of day, be dealt between us!” | 40 |
| Glad was the Geats’ lord, going betimes | |
| to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded. | |
| Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle, | |
| for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight | |
| nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened | 45 |
| dusk o’er the drinkers. | |
| The doughty ones rose: | |
| for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest, | |
| agéd Scylding; and eager the Geat, | |
| shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned. | 50 |
| Him wander-weary, warrior-guest | |
| from far, a hall-thane heralded forth, | |
| who by custom courtly cared for all | |
| needs of a thane as in those old days | |
| warrior-wanderers wont to have. | 55 |
| So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall | |
| rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on | |
| till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven 2 | |
| blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying | |
| shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened, | 60 |
| athelings all were eager homeward | |
| forth to fare; and far from thence | |
| the great-hearted guest would guide his keel. | |
| Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought | |
| to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take, | 65 |
| excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it, | |
| quoth that he counted it keen in battle, | |
| “war-friend” winsome: with words he slandered not | |
| edge of the blade: ’twas a big-hearted man! | |
| Now eager for parting and armed at point | 70 |
| warriors waited, while went to his host | |
| that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling | |
| to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted. | |
