| |
| HASTENED the hardy one, henchmen with him, | |
| sandy strand of the sea to tread | |
| and widespread ways. The world’s great candle, | |
| sun shone from south. They strode along | |
| with sturdy steps to the spot they knew | 5 |
| where the battle-king young, his burg within, | |
| slayer of Ongentheow, shared the rings, | |
| shelter-of-heroes. To Hygelac | |
| Beowulf’s coming was quickly told,— | |
| that there in the court the clansmen’s refuge, | 10 |
| the shield-companion sound and alive, | |
| hale from the hero-play homeward strode. | |
| With haste in the hall, by highest order, | |
| room for the rovers was readily made. | |
| By his sovran he sat, come safe from battle, | 15 |
| kinsman by kinsman. His kindly lord | |
| he first had greeted in gracious form, | |
| with manly words. The mead dispensing, | |
| came through the high hall Hæreth’s daughter, | |
| winsome to warriors, wine-cup bore | 20 |
| to the hands of the heroes. Hygelac then | |
| his comrade fairly with question plied | |
| in the lofty hall, sore longing to know | |
| what manner of sojourn the Sea-Geats made. | |
| “What came of thy quest, my kinsman Beowulf, | 25 |
| when thy yearnings suddenly swept thee yonder | |
| battle to seek o’er the briny sea, | |
| combat in Heorot? Hrothgar couldst thou | |
| aid at all, the honored chief, | |
| in his wide-known woes? With waves of care | 30 |
| my sad heart seethed; I sore mistrusted | |
| my loved one’s venture: long I begged thee | |
| by no means to seek that slaughtering monster, | |
| but suffer the South-Danes to settle their feud | |
| themselves with Grendel. Now God be thanked | 35 |
| that safe and sound I can see thee now!” | |
| Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow:— | |
| “’Tis known and unhidden, Hygelac Lord, | |
| to many men, that meeting of ours, | |
| struggle grim between Grendel and me, | 40 |
| which we fought on the field where full too many | |
| sorrows he wrought for the Scylding-Victors, | |
| evils unending. These all I avenged. | |
| No boast can be from breed of Grendel, | |
| any on earth, for that uproar at dawn, | 45 |
| from the longest-lived of the loathsome race | |
| in fleshly fold!—But first I went | |
| Hrothgar to greet in the hall of gifts, | |
| where Healfdene’s kinsman high-renowned, | |
| soon as my purpose was plain to him, | 50 |
| assigned me a seat by his son and heir. | |
| The liegemen were lusty; my life-days never | |
| such merry men over mead in hall | |
| have I heard under heaven! The high-born queen, | |
| people’s peace-bringer, passed through the hall | 55 |
| cheered the young clansmen, clasps of gold | |
| ere she sought her seat, to sundry gave. | |
| Oft to the heroes Hrothgar’s daughter, | |
| to earls in turn, the ale-cup tendered,— | |
| she whom I heard these hall-companions | 60 |
| Freawaru name, when fretted gold | |
| she proffered the warriors. Promised is she, | |
| gold-decked maid, to the glad son of Froda. | |
| Sage this seems to the Scylding’-friend, | |
| kingdom’-keeper: he counts it wise | 65 |
| the woman to wed so and ward off feud, | |
| store of slaughter. But seldom ever | |
| when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink | |
| but briefest while, though the bride be fair! 1 | |
| “Nor haply will like it the Heathobard lord, | 70 |
| and as little each of his liegemen all, | |
| when a thane of the Danes, in that doughty throng, | |
| goes with the lady along their hall, | |
| and on him the old-time heirlooms glisten | |
| hard and ring-decked, Heathobard’s treasure, | 75 |
| weapons that once they wielded fair | |
| until they lost at the linden-play 2 | |
| liegeman leal and their lives as well. | |
| Then, over the ale, on this heirloom gazing, | |
| some ash-wielder old who has all in mind | 80 |
| that spear-death of men, 3—he is stern of mood, | |
| heavy at heart,—in the hero young | |
| tests the temper and tries the soul | |
| and war-hate wakens, with words like these:— | |
| Canst thou not, comrade, ken that sword | 85 |
| which to the fray thy father carried | |
| in his final feud, ’neath the fighting-mask, | |
| dearest of blades, when the Danish slew him | |
| and wielded the war-place on Withergild’s fall, | |
| after havoc of heroes, those hardy Scyldings? | 90 |
| Now, the son of a certain slaughtering Dane, | |
| proud of his treasure, paces this hall, | |
| joys in the killing, and carries the jewel 4 | |
| that rightfully ought to be owned by thee! | |
| Thus he urges and eggs him all the time | 95 |
| with keenest words, till occasion offers | |
| that Freawaru’s thane, for his father’s deed, | |
| after bite of brand in his blood must slumber, | |
| losing his life; but that liegeman flies | |
| living away, for the land he kens. | 100 |
| And thus be broken on both their sides | |
| oaths of the earls, when Ingeld’s breast | |
| wells with war-hate, and wife-love now | |
| after the care-billows cooler grows. | |
| “So 5 I hold not high the Heathobards’ faith | 105 |
| due to the Danes, or their during love | |
| and pact of peace.—But I pass from that, | |
| turning to Grendel, O giver-of-treasure, | |
| and saying in full how the fight resulted, | |
| hand-fray of heroes. When heaven’s jewel | 110 |
| had fled o’er far fields, that fierce sprite came, | |
| night-foe savage, to seek us out | |
| where safe and sound we sentried the hall. | |
| To Hondscio then was that harassing deadly, | |
| his fall there was fated. He first was slain, | 115 |
| girded warrior. Grendel on him | |
| turned murderous mouth, on our mighty kinsman, | |
| and all of the brave man’s body devoured. | |
| Yet none the earlier, empty-handed, | |
| would the bloody-toothed murderer, mindful of bale, | 120 |
| outward go from the gold-decked hall: | |
| but me he attacked in his terror of might, | |
| with greedy hand grasped me. A glove hung by him 6 | |
| wide and wondrous, wound with bands; | |
| and in artful wise it all was wrought, | 125 |
| by devilish craft, of dragon-skins. | |
| Me therein, an innocent man, | |
| the fiendish foe was fain to thrust | |
| with many another. He might not so, | |
| when I all angrily upright stood. | 130 |
| ’Twere long to relate how that land-destroyer | |
| I paid in kind for his cruel deeds; | |
| yet there, my prince, this people of thine | |
| got fame by my fighting. He fled away, | |
| and a little space his life preserved; | 135 |
| but there staid behind him his stronger hand | |
| left in Heorot; heartsick thence | |
| on the floor of the ocean that outcast fell. | |
| Me for this struggle the Scyldings’-friend | |
| paid in plenty with plates of gold, | 140 |
| with many a treasure, when morn had come | |
| and we all at the banquet-board sat down. | |
| Then was song and glee. The gray-haired Scylding, | |
| much tested, told of the times of yore. | |
| Whiles the hero his harp bestirred, | 145 |
| wood-of-delight; now lays he chanted | |
| of sooth and sadness, or said aright | |
| legends of wonder, the wide-hearted king; | |
| or for years of his youth he would yearn at times, | |
| for strength of old struggles, now stricken with age, | 150 |
| hoary hero: his heart surged full | |
| when, wise with winters, he wailed their flight. | |
| Thus in the hall the whole of that day | |
| at ease we feasted, till fell o’er earth | |
| another night. Anon full ready | 155 |
| in greed of vengeance, Grendel’s mother | |
| set forth all doleful. Dead was her son | |
| through war-hate of Weders; now, woman monstrous, | |
| with fury fell a foeman she slew, | |
| avenged her offspring. From Æschere old, | 160 |
| loyal councillor, life was gone; | |
| nor might they e’en, when morning broke, | |
| those Danish people, their death-done comrade | |
| burn with brands, on balefire lay | |
| the man they mourned. Under mountain stream | 165 |
| she had carried the corpse with cruel hands. | |
| For Hrothgar that was the heaviest sorrow | |
| of all that had laden the lord of his folk. | |
| The leader then, by thy life, besought me | |
| (sad was his soul) in the sea-waves’ coil | 170 |
| to play the hero and hazard my being | |
| for glory of prowess: my guerdon he pledged. | |
| I then in the waters—’tis widely known— | |
| that sea-floor-guardian savage found. | |
| Hand-to-hand there a while we struggled; | 175 |
| billows welled blood; in the briny hall | |
| her head I hewed with a hardy blade | |
| from Grendel’s mother,—and gained my life, | |
| though not without danger. My doom was not yet. | |
| Then the haven-of-heroes, Healfdene’s son, | 180 |
| gave me in guerdon great gifts of price. | |
