| |
| ME thus often the evil monsters | |
| thronging threatened. With thrust of my sword, | |
| the darling, I dealt them due return! | |
| Nowise had they bliss from their booty then | |
| to devour their victim, vengeful creatures, | 5 |
| seated to banquet at bottom of sea; | |
| but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt, | |
| on the edge of ocean up they lay, | |
| put to sleep by the sword. And since, by them | |
| on the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folk | 10 |
| are never molested.—Light from east, | |
| came bright God’s beacon; the billows sank, | |
| so that I saw the sea-cliffs high, | |
| windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth | |
| earl undoomed if he doughty be! | 15 |
| And so it came that I killed with my sword | |
| nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles | |
| ne’er heard I a harder ’neath heaven’s dome, | |
| nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man! | |
| Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch, | 20 |
| though spent with swimming. The sea upbore me, | |
| flood of the tide, on Finnish land, | |
| the welling waters. No wise of thee | |
| have I heard men tell such terror of falchions, | |
| bitter battle. Breca ne’er yet, | 25 |
| not one of you pair, in the play of war | |
| such daring deed has done at all | |
| with bloody brand,—I boast not of it!— | |
| though thou wast the bane 1 of thy brethren dear, | |
| thy closest kin, whence curse of hell | 30 |
| awaits thee, well as thy wit may serve! | |
| For I say in sooth, thou son of Ecglaf, | |
| never had Grendel these grim deeds wrought, | |
| monster dire, on thy master dear, | |
| in Heorot such havoc, if heart of thine | 35 |
| were as battle-bold as thy boast is loud! | |
| But he has found no feud will happen; | |
| from sword-clash dread of your Danish clan | |
| he vaunts him safe, from the Victor-Scyldings. | |
| He forces pledges, favors none | 40 |
| of the land of Danes, but lustily murders, | |
| fights and feasts, nor feud he dreads | |
| from Spear-Dane men. But speedily now | |
| shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats, | |
| shall bid him battle. Blithe to mead | 45 |
| go he that listeth, when light of dawn | |
| this morrow morning o’er men of earth, | |
| ether-robed sun from the south shall beam!” | |
| Joyous then was the Jewel-giver, | |
| hoar-haired, war-brave; help awaited | 50 |
| the Bright-Dane’s prince, from Beowulf hearing, | |
| folk’s good shepherd, such firm resolve. | |
| Then was laughter of liegemen loud resounding | |
| with winsome words. Came Wealhtheow forth, | |
| queen of Hrothgar, heedful of courtesy, | 55 |
| gold-decked, greeting the guests in hall; | |
| and the high-born lady handed the cup | |
| first to the East-Dane’s heir and warden, | |
| bade him be blithe at the beer-carouse, | |
| the land’s beloved one. Lustily took he | 60 |
| banquet and beaker, battle-famed king. | |
| Through the hall then went the Helmings’ Lady, | |
| to younger and older everywhere | |
| carried the cup, till come the moment | |
| when the ring-graced queen, the royal-hearted, | 65 |
| to Beowulf bore the beaker of mead. | |
| She greeted the Geats’ lord, God she thanked, | |
| in wisdom’s words, that her will was granted, | |
| that at last on a hero her hope could lean | |
| for comfort in terrors. The cup he took, | 70 |
| hardy-in-war, from Wealtheow’s hand, | |
| and answer uttered the eager-for-combat. | |
| Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:— | |
| “This was my thought, when my thanes and I | |
| bent to the ocean and entered our boat, | 75 |
| that I would work the will of your people | |
| fully, or fighting fall in death, | |
| in fiend’s gripe fast. I am firm to do | |
| an earl’s brave deed, or end the days | |
| of this life of mine in the mead-hall here.” | 80 |
| Well these words to the woman seemed, | |
| Beowulf’s battle-boast.—Bright with gold | |
| the stately dame by her spouse sat down. | |
| Again, as erst, began in hall | |
| warriors’ wassail and words of power, | 85 |
| the proud-band’s revel, till presently | |
| the son of Healfdene hastened to seek | |
| rest for the night; he knew there waited | |
| fight for the fiend in that festal hall, | |
| when the sheen of the sun they saw no more, | 90 |
| and dusk of night sank darkling nigh, | |
| and shadowy shapes came striding on, | |
| wan under welkin. The warriors rose. | |
| Man to man, he made harangue, | |
| Hrothgar to Beowulf, bade him hail, | 95 |
| let him wield the wine hall: a word he added:— | |
| “Never to any man erst I trusted, | |
| since I could heave up hand and shield, | |
| this noble Dane-Hall, till now to thee. | |
| Have now and hold this house unpeered; | 100 |
| remember thy glory; thy might declare; | |
| watch for the foe! No wish shall fail thee | |
| if thou bidest the battle with bold-won life.” | |
