| |
| HROTHGAR spake, the Scyldings’-helmet:— | |
| “For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf, | |
| to succor and save, thou hast sought us here. | |
| Thy father’s combat 1 a feud enkindled | |
| when Heatholaf with hand he slew | 5 |
| among the Wylfings; his Weder kin | |
| for horror of fighting feared to hold him. | |
| Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk, | |
| over surge of ocean the Honor-Scyldings, | |
| when first I was ruling the folk of Danes, | 10 |
| wielded, youthful, this widespread realm, | |
| this hoard-hold of heroes. Heorogar was dead, | |
| my elder brother, had breathed his last, | |
| Healfdene’s bairn: he was better than I! | |
| Straightway the feud with fee 2 I settled, | 15 |
| to the Wylfings sent, o’er watery ridges, | |
| treasures olden: oaths he 3 swore me. | |
| Sore is my soul to say to any | |
| of the race of man what ruth for me | |
| in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought, | 20 |
| what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me, | |
| my warriors wane; for Wyrd hath swept them | |
| into Grendel’s grasp. But God is able | |
| this deadly foe from his deeds to turn! | |
| Boasted full oft, as my beer they drank, | 25 |
| earls o’er the ale-cup, arméd men, | |
| that they would bide in the beer-hall here, | |
| Grendel’s attack with terror of blades. | |
| Then was this mead-house at morning tide | |
| dyed with gore, when the daylight broke, | 30 |
| all the boards of the benches blood-besprinkled, | |
| gory the hall: I had heroes the less, | |
| doughty dear-ones that death had reft. | |
| —But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words, | |
| hardy hero, as heart shall prompt thee.” | 35 |
| |
| Gathered together, the Geatish men | |
| in the banquet-hall on bench assigned, | |
| sturdy-spirited, sat them down, | |
| hardy-hearted. A henchman attended, | |
| carried the carven cup in hand, | 40 |
| served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang | |
| blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled, | |
| no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane. | |
