Beowulf

XII: Grendel and Beowulf

’Neath the cloudy cliffs came from the moor then Grendel going, God’s anger bare he. The monster intended some one of earthmen In the hall-building grand to entrap and make way with: He went under welkin where well he knew of The wine-joyous building, brilliant with plating, Gold-hall of earthmen. Not the earliest occasion He the home and manor of Hrothgar had sought: Ne’er found he in life-days later nor earlier Hardier hero, hall-thanes more sturdy! Then came to the building the warrior marching, Bereft of his joyance. The door quickly opened On fire-hinges fastened, when his fingers had touched it; The fell one had flung then—his fury so bitter— Open the entrance. Early thereafter The foeman trod the shining hall-pavement, Strode he angrily; from the eyes of him glimmered A lustre unlovely likest to fire. He beheld in the hall the heroes in numbers, A circle of kinsmen sleeping together, A throng of thanemen: then his thoughts were exultant, He minded to sunder from each of the thanemen The life from his body, horrible demon, Ere morning came, since fate had allowed him The prospect of plenty. Providence willed not To permit him any more of men under heaven To eat in the night-time. Higelac’s kinsman Great sorrow endured how the dire-mooded creature In unlooked-for assaults were likely to bear him. No thought had the monster of deferring the matter, But on earliest occasion he quickly laid hold of A soldier asleep, suddenly tore him, Bit his bone-prison, the blood drank in currents, Swallowed in mouthfuls: he soon had the dead man’s Feet and hands, too, eaten entirely. Nearer he strode then, the stout-hearted warrior Snatched as he slumbered, seizing with hand-grip, Forward the foeman foined with his hand; Caught he quickly the cunning deviser, On his elbow he rested. This early discovered The master of malice, that in middle-earth’s regions, ’Neath the whole of the heavens, no hand-grapple greater In any man else had he ever encountered: Fearful in spirit, faint-mooded waxed he, Not off could betake him; death he was pondering, Would fly to his covert, seek the devils’ assembly: His calling no more was the same he had followed Long in his lifetime. The liege-kinsman worthy Of Higelac minded his speech of the evening, Stood he up straight and stoutly did seize him. His fingers crackled; the giant was outward, The earl stepped farther. The famous one minded To flee away farther, if he found an occasion, And off and away, avoiding delay, To fly to the fen-moors; he fully was ware of The strength of his grapple in the grip of the foeman. ’Twas an ill-taken journey that the injury-bringing, Harrying harmer to Heorot wandered: The palace re-echoed; to all of the Danemen, Dwellers in castles, to each of the bold ones, Earlmen, was terror. Angry they both were, Archwarders raging. Rattled the building; ’Twas a marvellous wonder that the wine-hall withstood then The bold-in-battle, bent not to earthward, Excellent earth-hall; but within and without it Was fastened so firmly in fetters of iron, By the art of the armorer. Off from the sill there Bent mead-benches many, as men have informed me, Adorned with gold-work, where the grim ones did struggle. The Scylding wise men weened ne’er before That by might and main-strength a man under heaven Might break it in pieces, bone-decked, resplendent, Crush it by cunning, unless clutch of the fire In smoke should consume it. The sound mounted upward Novel enough; on the North Danes fastened A terror of anguish, on all of the men there Who heard from the wall the weeping and plaining, The song of defeat from the foeman of heaven, Heard him hymns of horror howl, and his sorrow Hell-bound bewailing. He held him too firmly Who was strongest of main-strength of men of that era.

XIII: Grendel Is Vanquished

For no cause whatever would the earlmen’s defender Leave in life-joys the loathsome newcomer, He deemed his existence utterly useless To men under heaven. Many a noble Of Beowulf brandished his battle-sword old, Would guard the life of his lord and protector, The far-famous chieftain, if able to do so; While waging the warfare, this wist they but little, Brave battle-thanes, while his body intending To slit into slivers, and seeking his spirit: That the relentless foeman nor finest of weapons Of all on the earth, nor any of war-bills Was willing to injure; but weapons of victory Swords and suchlike he had sworn to dispense with. His death at that time must prove to be wretched, And the faraway spirit widely should journey Into enemies’ power. This plainly he saw then Who with mirth of mood malice no little Had wrought in the past on the race of the earthmen (To God he was hostile), that his body would fail him, But Higelac’s hardy henchman and kinsman Held him by the hand; hateful to other Was each one if living. A body-wound suffered The direful demon, damage incurable Was seen on his shoulder, his sinews were shivered, His body did burst. To Beowulf was given Glory in battle; Grendel from thenceward Must flee and hide him in the fen-cliffs and marshes, Sick unto death, his dwelling must look for Unwinsome and woeful; he wist the more fully The end of his earthly existence was nearing, His life-days’ limits. At last for the Danemen, When the slaughter was over, their wish was accomplished. The comer-from-far-land had cleansed then of evil, Wise and valiant, the war-hall of Hrothgar, Saved it from violence. He joyed in the night-work, In repute for prowess; the prince of the Geatmen For the East-Danish people his boast had accomplished, Bettered their burdensome bale-sorrows fully, The craft-begot evil they erstwhile had suffered And were forced to endure from crushing oppression, Their manifold misery. ’Twas a manifest token, When the hero-in-battle the hand suspended, The arm and the shoulder (there was all of the claw Of Grendel together) ’neath great-stretching hall-roof.

XIV: Rejoicing of the Danes

In the mist of the morning many a warrior Stood round the gift-hall, as the story is told me: Folk-princes fared then from far and from near Through long-stretching journeys to look at the wonder, The footprints of the foeman. Few of the warriors Who gazed on the foot-tracks of the inglorious creature His parting from life pained very deeply, How, weary in spirit, off from those regions In combats conquered he carried his traces, Fated and flying, to the flood of the nickers. There in bloody billows bubbled the currents, The angry eddy was everywhere mingled And seething with gore, welling with sword-blood; He death-doomed had hid him, when reaved of his joyance He laid down his life in the lair he had fled to, His heathenish spirit, where hell did receive him. Thence the friends from of old backward turned them, And many a younker from merry adventure, Striding their stallions, stout from the seaward, Heroes on horses. There were heard very often Beowulf’s praises; many often asserted That neither south nor north, in the circuit of waters, O’er outstretching earth-plain, none other was better ’Mid bearers of war-shields, more worthy to govern, ’Neath the arch of the ether. Not any, however, ’Gainst the friend-lord muttered, mocking-words uttered Of Hrothgar the gracious (a good king he). Oft the famed ones permitted their fallow-skinned horses To run in rivalry, racing and chasing, Where the fieldways appeared to them fair and inviting, Known for their excellence; oft a thane of the folk-lord, A man of celebrity, mindful of rhythms, Who ancient traditions treasured in memory, New word-groups found properly bound: The bard after ’gan then Beowulf’s venture Wisely to tell of, and words that were clever To utter skilfully, earnestly speaking, Everything told he that he heard as to Sigmund’s Mighty achievements, many things hidden, The strife of the Waelsing, the wide-going ventures The children of men knew of but little, The feud and the fury, but Fitela with him, When suchlike matters he minded to speak of, Uncle to nephew, as in every contention Each to other was ever devoted: A numerous host of the race of the scathers They had slain with the sword-edge. To Sigmund accrued then No little of glory, when his life-days were over, Since he sturdy in struggle had destroyed the great dragon, The hoard-treasure’s keeper; ’neath the hoar-grayish stone he, The son of the atheling, unaided adventured The perilous project; not present was Fitela, Yet the fortune befell him of forcing his weapon Through the marvellous dragon, that it stood in the wall, Well-honored weapon; the worm was slaughtered. The great one had gained then by his glorious achievement To reap from the ring-hoard richest enjoyment, As best it did please him: his vessel he loaded, Shining ornaments on the ship’s bosom carried, Kinsman of Waels: the drake in heat melted. He was farthest famed of fugitive pilgrims, Mid wide-scattered world-folk, for works of great prowess, War-troopers’ shelter: hence waxed he in honor. Afterward Heremod’s hero-strength failed him, His vigor and valor. ’Mid venomous haters To the hands of foemen he was foully delivered, Offdriven early. Agony-billows Oppressed him too long, to his people he became then, To all the athelings, an ever-great burden; And the daring one’s journey in days of yore Many wise men were wont to deplore, Such as hoped he would bring them help in their sorrow, That the son of their ruler should rise into power, Holding the headship held by his fathers, Should govern the people, the gold-hoard and borough, The kingdom of heroes, the realm of the Scyldings. He to all men became then far more beloved, Higelac’s kinsman, to kindreds and races, To his friends much dearer; him malice assaulted.— Oft running and racing on roadsters they measured The dun-colored highways. Then the light of the morning Was hurried and hastened. Went henchmen in numbers To the beautiful building, bold ones in spirit, To look at the wonder; the liegelord himself then From his wife-bower wending, warden of treasures, Glorious trod with troopers unnumbered, Famed for his virtues, and with him the queen-wife Measured the mead-ways, with maidens attending.

XV: Hrothgar’s Gratitude

Hrothgar discoursed (to the hall-building went he, He stood by the pillar, saw the steep-rising hall-roof Gleaming with gold-gems, and Grendel his hand there): “For the sight we behold now, thanks to the Wielder Early be offered! Much evil I bided, Snaring from Grendel: God can e’er ’complish Wonder on wonder, Wielder of Glory! But lately I reckoned ne’er under heaven Comfort to gain me for any of sorrows, While the handsomest of houses horrid with bloodstain Gory uptowered; grief had offfrightened Each of the wise ones who weened not that ever The folk-troop’s defences ’gainst foes they should strengthen, ’Gainst sprites and monsters. Through the might of the Wielder A doughty retainer hath a deed now accomplished Which erstwhile we all with our excellent wisdom Failed to perform. May affirm very truly What woman soever in all of the nations Gave birth to the child, if yet she surviveth, That the long-ruling Lord was lavish to herward In the birth of the bairn. Now, Beowulf dear, Most excellent hero, I’ll love thee in spirit As bairn of my body; bear well henceforward The relationship new. No lack shall befall thee Of earth-joys any I ever can give thee. Full often for lesser service I’ve given Hero less hardy hoard-treasure precious, To a weaker in war-strife. By works of distinction Thou hast gained for thyself now that thy glory shall flourish Forever and ever. The All-Ruler quite thee With good from His hand as He hitherto did thee!” Beowulf answered, Ecgtheow’s offspring: “That labor of glory most gladly achieved we, The combat accomplished, unquailing we ventured The enemy’s grapple; I would grant it much rather Thou wert able to look at the creature in person, Faint unto falling, the foe in his trappings! On murder-bed quickly I minded to bind him, With firm-holding fetters, that forced by my grapple Low he should lie in life-and-death struggle ’Less his body escape; I was wholly unable, Since God did not will it, to keep him from going, Not held him that firmly, hated opposer; Too swift was the foeman. Yet safety regarding He suffered his hand behind him to linger, His arm and shoulder, to act as watcher; No shadow of solace the woe-begone creature Found him there nathless: the hated destroyer Liveth no longer, lashed for his evils, But sorrow hath seized him, in snare-meshes hath him Close in its clutches, keepeth him writhing In baleful bonds: there banished for evil The man shall wait for the mighty tribunal, How the God of glory shall give him his earnings.” Then the soldier kept silent, son of old Ecglaf, From boasting and bragging of battle-achievements, Since the princes beheld there the hand that depended ’Neath the lofty hall-timbers by the might of the nobleman, Each one before him, the enemy’s fingers; Each finger-nail strong steel most resembled, The heathen one’s hand-spur, the hero-in-battle’s Claw most uncanny; quoth they agreeing, That not any excellent edges of brave ones Was willing to touch him, the terrible creature’s Battle-hand bloody to bear away from him.

XVI: Hrothgar Lavishes Gifts Upon His Deliverer

Then straight was ordered that Heorot inside With hands be embellished: a host of them gathered, Of men and women, who the wassailing-building The guest-hall begeared. Gold-flashing sparkled Webs on the walls then, of wonders a many To each of the heroes that look on such objects. The beautiful building was broken to pieces Which all within with irons was fastened, Its hinges torn off: only the roof was Whole and uninjured when the horrible creature Outlawed for evil off had betaken him, Hopeless of living. ’Tis hard to avoid it (Whoever will do it!); but he doubtless must come to The place awaiting, as Wyrd hath appointed, Soul-bearers, earth-dwellers, earls under heaven, Where bound on its bed his body shall slumber When feasting is finished. Full was the time then That the son of Healfdene went to the building; The excellent atheling would eat of the banquet. Ne’er heard I that people with hero-band larger Bare them better tow’rds their bracelet-bestower. The laden-with-glory stooped to the bench then (Their kinsmen-companions in plenty were joyful, Many a cupful quaffing complaisantly), Doughty of spirit in the high-tow’ring palace, Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Heorot then inside Was filled with friendly ones; falsehood and treachery The Folk-Scyldings now nowise did practise. Then the offspring of Healfdene offered to Beowulf A golden standard, as reward for the victory, A banner embossed, burnie and helmet; Many men saw then a song-famous weapon Borne ’fore the hero. Beowulf drank of The cup in the building; that treasure-bestowing He needed not blush for in battle-men’s presence. Ne’er heard I that many men on the ale-bench In friendlier fashion to their fellows presented Four bright jewels with gold-work embellished. ’Round the roof of the helmet a head-guarder outside Braided with wires, with bosses was furnished, That swords-for-the-battle fight-hardened might fail Boldly to harm him, when the hero proceeded Forth against foemen. The defender of earls then Commanded that eight steeds with bridles Gold-plated, gleaming, be guided to hallward, Inside the building; on one of them stood then An art-broidered saddle embellished with jewels; ’Twas the sovereign’s seat, when the son of King Healfdene Was pleased to take part in the play of the edges; The famous one’s valor ne’er failed at the front when Slain ones were bowing. And to Beowulf granted The prince of the Ingwins, power over both, O’er war-steeds and weapons; bade him well to enjoy them. In so manly a manner the mighty-famed chieftain, Hoard-ward of heroes, with horses and jewels War-storms requited, that none e’er condemneth Who willeth to tell truth with full justice.

XVII: Banquet (Continued)—The Scop’s Song of Finn and Hnaef

And the atheling of earlmen to each of the heroes Who the ways of the waters went with Beowulf, A costly gift-token gave on the mead-bench, Offered an heirloom, and ordered that that man With gold should be paid for, whom Grendel had erstwhile Wickedly slaughtered, as he more of them had done Had far-seeing God and the mood of the hero The fate not averted: the Father then governed All of the earth-dwellers, as He ever is doing; Hence insight for all men is everywhere fittest, Forethought of spirit! much he shall suffer Of lief and of loathsome who long in this present Useth the world in this woeful existence. There was music and merriment mingling together Touching Healfdene’s leader; the joy-wood was fingered, Measures recited, when the singer of Hrothgar On mead-bench should mention the merry hall-joyance Of the kinsmen of Finn, when onset surprised them: “The Half-Danish hero, Hnaef of the Scyldings, On the field of the Frisians was fated to perish. Sure Hildeburg needed not mention approving The faith of the Jutemen: though blameless entirely, When shields were shivered she was shorn of her darlings, Of bairns and brothers: they bent to their fate With war-spear wounded; woe was that woman. Not causeless lamented the daughter of Hoce The decree of the Wielder when morning-light came and She was able ’neath heaven to behold the destruction Of brothers and bairns, where the brightest of earth-joys She had hitherto had: all the henchmen of Finn War had offtaken, save a handful remaining, That he nowise was able to offer resistance To the onset of Hengest in the parley of battle, Nor the wretched remnant to rescue in war from The earl of the atheling; but they offered conditions, Another great building to fully make ready, A hall and a high-seat, that half they might rule with The sons of the Jutemen, and that Folcwalda’s son would Day after day the Danemen honor When gifts were giving, and grant of his ring-store To Hengest’s earl-troop ever so freely, Of his gold-plated jewels, as he encouraged the Frisians On the bench of the beer-hall. On both sides they swore then A fast-binding compact; Finn unto Hengest With no thought of revoking vowed then most solemnly The woe-begone remnant well to take charge of, His Witan advising; the agreement should no one By words or works weaken and shatter, By artifice ever injure its value, Though reaved of their ruler their ring-giver’s slayer They followed as vassals, Fate so requiring: Then if one of the Frisians the quarrel should speak of In tones that were taunting, terrible edges Should cut in requital. Accomplished the oath was, And treasure of gold from the hoard was uplifted. The best of the Scylding braves was then fully Prepared for the pile; at the pyre was seen clearly The blood-gory burnie, the boar with his gilding, The iron-hard swine, athelings many Fatally wounded; no few had been slaughtered. Hildeburg bade then, at the burning of Hnaef, The bairn of her bosom to bear to the fire, That his body be burned and borne to the pyre. The woe-stricken woman wept on his shoulder In measures lamented; upmounted the hero. The greatest of dead-fires curled to the welkin, On the hill’s-front crackled; heads were a-melting, Wound-doors bursting, while the blood was a-coursing From body-bite fierce. The fire devoured them, Greediest of spirits, whom war had offcarried From both of the peoples; their bravest were fallen.

XVIII: The Finn Episode (Continued)—The Banquet Continues

“Then the warriors departed to go to their dwellings, Reaved of their friends, Friesland to visit, Their homes and high-city. Hengest continued Biding with Finn the blood-tainted winter, Wholly unsundered; of fatherland thought he Though unable to drive the ring-stemmèd vessel O’er the ways of the waters; the wave-deeps were tossing, Fought with the wind; winter in ice-bonds Closed up the currents, till there came to the dwelling A year in its course, as yet it revolveth, If season propitious one alway regardeth, World-cheering weathers. Then winter was gone, Earth’s bosom was lovely; the exile would get him, The guest from the palace; on gruesomest vengeance He brooded more eager than on oversea journeys, Whe’r onset-of-anger he were able to ’complish, The bairns of the Jutemen therein to remember. Nowise refused he the duties of liegeman When Hun of the Frisians the battle-sword Láfing, Fairest of falchions, friendly did give him: Its edges were famous in folk-talk of Jutland. And savage sword-fury seized in its clutches Bold-mooded Finn where he bode in his palace, When the gruesome grapple Guthlaf and Oslaf Had mournfully mentioned, the mere-journey over, For sorrows half-blamed him; the flickering spirit Could not bide in his bosom. Then the building was covered With corpses of foemen, and Finn too was slaughtered, The king with his comrades, and the queen made a prisoner. The troops of the Scyldings bore to their vessels All that the land-king had in his palace, Such trinkets and treasures they took as, on searching, At Finn’s they could find. They ferried to Daneland The excellent woman on oversea journey, Led her to their land-folk.” The lay was concluded, The gleeman’s recital. Shouts again rose then, Bench-glee resounded, bearers then offered Wine from wonder-vats. Wealhtheo advanced then Going ’neath gold-crown, where the good ones were seated Uncle and nephew; their peace was yet mutual, True each to the other. And Unferth the spokesman Sat at the feet of the lord of the Scyldings: Each trusted his spirit that his mood was courageous, Though at fight he had failed in faith to his kinsmen. Said the queen of the Scyldings: “My lord and protector, Treasure-bestower, take thou this beaker; Joyance attend thee, gold-friend of heroes, And greet thou the Geatmen with gracious responses! So ought one to do. Be kind to the Geatmen, In gifts not niggardly; anear and afar now Peace thou enjoyest. Report hath informed me Thou’lt have for a bairn the battle-brave hero. Now is Heorot cleansèd, ring-palace gleaming; Give while thou mayest many rewards, And bequeath to thy kinsmen kingdom and people, On wending thy way to the Wielder’s splendor. I know good Hrothulf, that the noble young troopers He’ll care for and honor, lord of the Scyldings, If earth-joys thou endest earlier than he doth; I reckon that recompense he’ll render with kindness Our offspring and issue, if that all he remember, What favors of yore, when he yet was an infant, We awarded to him for his worship and pleasure.” Then she turned by the bench where her sons were carousing, Hrethric and Hrothmund, and the heroes’ offspring, The war-youth together; there the good one was sitting ’Twixt the brothers twain, Beowulf Geatman.

XIX: Beowulf Receives Further Honor

A beaker was borne him, and bidding to quaff it Graciously given, and gold that was twisted Pleasantly proffered, a pair of arm-jewels, Rings and corslet, of collars the greatest I’ve heard of ’neath heaven. Of heroes not any More splendid from jewels have I heard ’neath the welkin, Since Hama off bore the Brosingmen’s necklace, The bracteates and jewels, from the bright-shining city, Eormenric’s cunning craftiness fled from, Chose gain everlasting. Geatish Higelac, Grandson of Swerting, last had this jewel When tramping ’neath banner the treasure he guarded, The field-spoil defended; Fate offcarried him When for deeds of daring he endured tribulation, Hate from the Frisians; the ornaments bare he O’er the cup of the currents, costly gem-treasures, Mighty folk-leader, he fell ’neath his target; The corpse of the king then came into charge of The race of the Frankmen, the mail-shirt and collar: Warmen less noble plundered the fallen, When the fight was finished; the folk of the Geatmen The field of the dead held in possession. The choicest of mead-halls with cheering resounded. Wealhtheo discoursed, the war-troop addressed she: “This collar enjoy thou, Beowulf worthy, Young man, in safety, and use thou this armor, Gems of the people, and prosper thou fully, Show thyself sturdy and be to these liegemen Mild with instruction! I’ll mind thy requital. Thou hast brought it to pass that far and near Forever and ever earthmen shall honor thee, Even so widely as ocean surroundeth The blustering bluffs. Be, while thou livest, A wealth-blessèd atheling. I wish thee most truly Jewels and treasure. Be kind to my son, thou Living in joyance! Here each of the nobles Is true unto other, gentle in spirit, Loyal to leader. The liegemen are peaceful, The war-troops ready: well-drunken heroes, Do as I bid ye.” Then she went to the settle. There was choicest of banquets, wine drank the heroes: Weird they knew not, destiny cruel, As to many an earlman early it happened, When evening had come and Hrothgar had parted Off to his manor, the mighty to slumber. Warriors unnumbered warded the building As erst they did often: the ale-settle bared they, ’Twas covered all over with beds and pillows. Doomed unto death, down to his slumber Bowed then a beer-thane. Their battle-shields placed they, Bright-shining targets, up by their heads then; O’er the atheling on ale-bench ’twas easy to see there Battle-high helmet, burnie of ring-mail, And mighty war-spear. ’Twas the wont of that people To constantly keep them equipped for the battle, At home or marching—in either condition— At seasons just such as necessity ordered As best for their ruler; that people was worthy.