Beowulf
      Anonymous
      Tranlated by Gummere

      PRELUDE OF THE FOUNDER OF THE DANISH HOUSE

      LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
      of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
      we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
      Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
      from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
      awing the earls. Since erst he lay
      friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
      for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
      till before him the folk, both far and near,
      who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
      gave him gifts: a good king he!
      To him an heir was afterward born,
      a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
      to favor the folk, feeling their woe
      that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
      so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
      the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
      Famed was this Beowulf:[1] far flew the boast of him,
      son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
      So becomes it a youth to quit him well
      with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
      that to aid him, aged, in after days,
      come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
      liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
      shall an earl have honor in every clan.

      Forth he fared at the fated moment,
      sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
      Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
      loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
      while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
      the leader beloved who long had ruled....
      In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
      ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
      there laid they down their darling lord
      on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,[2]
      by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
      fetched from far was freighted with him.
      No ship have I known so nobly dight
      with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
      with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
      a heaped hoard that hence should go
      far o'er the flood with him floating away.
      No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
      thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
      who in former time forth had sent him
      sole on the seas, a suckling child.
      High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
      a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
      gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
      mournful their mood. No man is able
      to say in sooth, no son of the halls,
      no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!

      [1] Not, of course, Beowulf the Great, hero of the epic. [2]
      Kenning for king or chieftain of a comitatus: he breaks off gold
      from the spiral rings -- often worn on the arm -- and so rewards
      his followers.

      I

      Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings,
      leader beloved, and long he ruled
      in fame with all folk, since his father had gone
      away from the world, till awoke an heir,
      haughty Healfdene, who held through life,
      sage and sturdy, the Scyldings glad.
      Then, one after one, there woke to him,
      to the chieftain of clansmen, children four:
      Heorogar, then Hrothgar, then Halga brave;
      and I heard that -- was -- 's queen,
      the Heathoscylfing's helpmate dear.
      To Hrothgar was given such glory of war,
      such honor of combat, that all his kin
      obeyed him gladly till great grew his band
      of youthful comrades. It came in his mind
      to bid his henchmen a hall uprear,
      ia master mead-house, mightier far
      than ever was seen by the sons of earth,
      and within it, then, to old and young
      he would all allot that the Lord had sent him,
      save only the land and the lives of his men.
      Wide, I heard, was the work commanded,
      for many a tribe this mid-earth round,
      to fashion the folkstead. It fell, as he ordered,
      in rapid achievement that ready it stood there,
      of halls the noblest: Heorot[1] he named it
      whose message had might in many a land.
      Not reckless of promise, the rings he dealt,
      treasure at banquet: there towered the hall,
      high, gabled wide, the hot surge waiting
      of furious flame.[2] Nor far was that day
      when father and son-in-law stood in feud
      for warfare and hatred that woke again.[3]
      With envy and anger an evil spirit
      endured the dole in his dark abode,
      that he heard each day the din of revel
      high in the hall: there harps rang out,
      clear song of the singer. He sang who knew[4]
      tales of the early time of man,
      how the Almighty made the earth,
      fairest fields enfolded by water,
      set, triumphant, sun and moon
      for a light to lighten the land-dwellers,
      and braided bright the breast of earth
      with limbs and leaves, made life for all
      of mortal beings that breathe and move.
      So lived the clansmen in cheer and revel
      a winsome life, till one began
      to fashion evils, that field of hell.
      Grendel this monster grim was called,
      march-riever[5] mighty, in moorland living,
      in fen and fastness; fief of the giants
      the hapless wight a while had kept
      since the Creator his exile doomed.
      On kin of Cain was the killing avenged
      by sovran God for slaughtered Abel.
      Ill fared his feud,[6] and far was he driven,
      for the slaughter's sake, from sight of men.
      Of Cain awoke all that woful breed,
      Etins[7] and elves and evil-spirits,
      as well as the giants that warred with God
      weary while: but their wage was paid them!

      [1] That is, "The Hart," or "Stag," so called from decorations in
      the gables that resembled the antlers of a deer. This hall has
      been carefully described in a pamphlet by Heyne. The building was
      rectangular, with opposite doors -- mainly west and east -- and a
      hearth in the middle of th single room. A row of pillars down
      each side, at some distance from the walls, made a space which
      was raised a little above the main floor, and was furnished with
      two rows of seats. On one side, usually south, was the
      high-seat midway between the doors. Opposite this, on the other
      raised space, was another seat of honor. At the banquet soon to
      be described, Hrothgar sat in the south or chief high-seat, and
      Beowulf opposite to him. The scene for a flying (see below,
      v.499) was thus very effectively set. Planks on trestles -- the
      "board" of later English literature -- formed the tables just in
      front of the long rows of seats, and were taken away after
      banquets, when the retainers were ready to stretch them- selves
      out for sleep on the benches. [2] Fire was the usual end of these
      halls. See v. 781 below. One thinks of the splendid scene at the
      end of the Nibelungen, of the Nialssaga, of Saxo's story of
      Amlethus, and many a less famous instance. [3] It is to be
      supposed that all hearers of this poem knew how Hrothgar's hall
      was burnt, -- perhaps in the unsuccessful attack made on him by
      his son-in-law Ingeld. [4] A skilled minstrel. The Danes are
      heathens, as one is told presently; but this lay of beginnings is
      taken from Genesis. [5] A disturber of the border, one who
      sallies from his haunt in the fen and roams over the country near
      by. This probably pagan nuisance is now furnished with biblical
      credentials as a fiend or devil in good standing, so that all
      Christian Englishmen might read about him. "Grendel" may mean one
      who grinds and crushes. [6] Cain's. [7] Giants.

      II

      WENT he forth to find at fall of night
      that haughty house, and heed wherever
      the Ring-Danes, outrevelled, to rest had gone.
      Found within it the atheling band
      asleep after feasting and fearless of sorrow,
      of human hardship. Unhallowed wight,
      grim and greedy, he grasped betimes,
      wrathful, reckless, from resting-places,
      thirty of the thanes, and thence he rushed
      fain of his fell spoil, faring homeward,
      laden with slaughter, his lair to seek.
      Then at the dawning, as day was breaking,
      the might of Grendel to men was known;
      then after wassail was wail uplifted,
      loud moan in the morn. The mighty chief,
      atheling excellent, unblithe sat,
      labored in woe for the loss of his thanes,
      when once had been traced the trail of the fiend,
      spirit accurst: too cruel that sorrow,
      too long, too loathsome. Not late the respite;
      with night returning, anew began
      ruthless murder; he recked no whit,
      firm in his guilt, of the feud and crime.
      They were easy to find who elsewhere sought
      in room remote their rest at night,
      bed in the bowers,[1] when that bale was shown,
      was seen in sooth, with surest token, --
      the hall-thane's[2] hate. Such held themselves
      far and fast who the fiend outran!
      Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill
      one against all; until empty stood
      that lordly building, and long it bode so.
      Twelve years' tide the trouble he bore,
      sovran of Scyldings, sorrows in plenty,
      boundless cares. There came unhidden
      tidings true to the tribes of men,
      in sorrowful songs, how ceaselessly Grendel
      harassed Hrothgar, what hate he bore him,
      what murder and massacre, many a year,
      feud unfading, -- refused consent
      to deal with any of Daneland's earls,
      make pact of peace, or compound for gold:
      still less did the wise men ween to get
      great fee for the feud from his fiendish hands.
      But the evil one ambushed old and young
      death-shadow dark, and dogged them still,
      lured, or lurked in the livelong night
      of misty moorlands: men may say not
      where the haunts of these Hell-Runes[3] be.
      Such heaping of horrors the hater of men,
      lonely roamer, wrought unceasing,
      harassings heavy. O'er Heorot he lorded,
      gold-bright hall, in gloomy nights;
      and ne'er could the prince[4] approach his throne,
      -- 'twas judgment of God, -- or have joy in his hall.
      Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings'-friend,
      heart-rending misery. Many nobles
      sat assembled, and searched out counsel
      how it were best for bold-hearted men
      against harassing terror to try their hand.
      Whiles they vowed in their heathen fanes
      altar-offerings, asked with words[5]
      that the slayer-of-souls would succor give them
      for the pain of their people. Their practice this,
      their heathen hope; 'twas Hell they thought of
      in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not,
      Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord,
      nor Heaven's-Helmet heeded they ever,
      Wielder-of-Wonder. -- Woe for that man
      who in harm and hatred hales his soul
      to fiery embraces; -- nor favor nor change
      awaits he ever. But well for him
      that after death-day may draw to his Lord,
      and friendship find in the Father's arms!

      [1] The smaller buildings within the main enclosure but separate
      from the hall. [2] Grendel. [3] "Sorcerers-of-hell." [4]
      Hrothgar, who is the "Scyldings'-friend" of 170. [5] That is, in
      formal or prescribed phrase.

      III

      THUS seethed unceasing the son of Healfdene
      with the woe of these days; not wisest men
      assuaged his sorrow; too sore the anguish,
      loathly and long, that lay on his folk,
      most baneful of burdens and bales of the night.

      This heard in his home Hygelac's thane,
      great among Geats, of Grendel's doings.
      He was the mightiest man of valor
      in that same day of this our life,
      stalwart and stately. A stout wave-walker
      he bade make ready. Yon battle-king, said he,
      far o'er the swan-road he fain would seek,
      the noble monarch who needed men!
      The prince's journey by prudent folk
      was little blamed, though they loved him dear;
      they whetted the hero, and hailed good omens.
      And now the bold one from bands of Geats
      comrades chose, the keenest of warriors
      e'er he could find; with fourteen men
      the sea-wood[1] he sought, and, sailor proved,
      led them on to the land's confines.
      Time had now flown;[2] afloat was the ship,
      boat under bluff. On board they climbed,
      warriors ready; waves were churning
      sea with sand; the sailors bore
      on the breast of the bark their bright array,
      their mail and weapons: the men pushed off,
      on its willing way, the well-braced craft.
      Then moved o'er the waters by might of the wind
      that bark like a bird with breast of foam,
      till in season due, on the second day,
      the curved prow such course had run
      that sailors now could see the land,
      sea-cliffs shining, steep high hills,
      headlands broad. Their haven was found,
      their journey ended. Up then quickly
      the Weders'[3] clansmen climbed ashore,
      anchored their sea-wood, with armor clashing
      and gear of battle: God they thanked
      or passing in peace o'er the paths of the sea.
      Now saw from the cliff a Scylding clansman,
      a warden that watched the water-side,
      how they bore o'er the gangway glittering shields,
      war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him
      to know what manner of men they were.
      Straight to the strand his steed he rode,
      Hrothgar's henchman; with hand of might
      he shook his spear, and spake in parley.
      "Who are ye, then, ye armed men,
      mailed folk, that yon mighty vessel
      have urged thus over the ocean ways,
      here o'er the waters? A warden I,
      sentinel set o'er the sea-march here,
      lest any foe to the folk of Danes
      with harrying fleet should harm the land.
      No aliens ever at ease thus bore them,
      linden-wielders:[4] yet word-of-leave
      clearly ye lack from clansmen here,
      my folk's agreement. -- A greater ne'er saw I
      of warriors in world than is one of you, --
      yon hero in harness! No henchman he
      worthied by weapons, if witness his features,
      his peerless presence! I pray you, though, tell
      your folk and home, lest hence ye fare
      suspect to wander your way as spies
      in Danish land. Now, dwellers afar,
      ocean-travellers, take from me
      simple advice: the sooner the better
      I hear of the country whence ye came."

      [1] Ship. [2] That is, since Beowulf selected his ship and led
      his men to the harbor. [3] One of the auxiliary names of the
      Geats. [4] Or: Not thus openly ever came warriors hither; yet...

      IV

      To him the stateliest spake in answer;
      the warriors' leader his word-hoard unlocked: --
      "We are by kin of the clan of Geats,
      and Hygelac's own hearth-fellows we.
      To folk afar was my father known,
      noble atheling, Ecgtheow named.
      Full of winters, he fared away
      aged from earth; he is honored still
      through width of the world by wise men all.
      To thy lord and liege in loyal mood
      we hasten hither, to Healfdene's son,
      people-protector: be pleased to advise us!
      To that mighty-one come we on mickle errand,
      to the lord of the Danes; nor deem I right
      that aught be hidden. We hear -- thou knowest
      if sooth it is -- the saying of men,
      that amid the Scyldings a scathing monster,
      dark ill-doer, in dusky nights
      shows terrific his rage unmatched,
      hatred and murder. To Hrothgar I
      in greatness of soul would succor bring,
      so the Wise-and-Brave[1] may worst his foes, --
      if ever the end of ills is fated,
      of cruel contest, if cure shall follow,
      and the boiling care-waves cooler grow;
      else ever afterward anguish-days
      he shall suffer in sorrow while stands in place
      high on its hill that house unpeered!"
      Astride his steed, the strand-ward answered,
      clansman unquailing: "The keen-souled thane
      must be skilled to sever and sunder duly
      words and works, if he well intends.
      I gather, this band is graciously bent
      to the Scyldings' master. March, then, bearing
      weapons and weeds the way I show you.
      I will bid my men your boat meanwhile
      to guard for fear lest foemen come, --
      your new-tarred ship by shore of ocean
      faithfully watching till once again
      it waft o'er the waters those well-loved thanes,
      -- winding-neck'd wood, -- to Weders' bounds,
      heroes such as the hest of fate
      shall succor and save from the shock of war."
      They bent them to march, -- the boat lay still,
      fettered by cable and fast at anchor,
      broad-bosomed ship. -- Then shone the boars[2]
      over the cheek-guard; chased with gold,
      keen and gleaming, guard it kept
      o'er the man of war, as marched along
      heroes in haste, till the hall they saw,
      broad of gable and bright with gold:
      that was the fairest, 'mid folk of earth,
      of houses 'neath heaven, where Hrothgar lived,
      and the gleam of it lightened o'er lands afar.
      The sturdy shieldsman showed that bright
      burg-of-the-boldest; bade them go
      straightway thither; his steed then turned,
      hardy hero, and hailed them thus: --
      "Tis time that I fare from you. Father Almighty
      in grace and mercy guard you well,
      safe in your seekings. Seaward I go,
      'gainst hostile warriors hold my watch."

      [1] Hrothgar. [2] Beowulf's helmet has several boar-images on it;
      he is the "man of war"; and the boar-helmet guards him as typical
      representative of the marching party as a whole. The boar was
      sacred to Freyr, who was the favorite god of the Germanic tribes
      about the North Sea and the Baltic. Rude representations of
      warriors show the boar on the helmet quite as large as the helmet
      itself.

      V

      STONE-BRIGHT the street:[1] it showed the way
      to the crowd of clansmen. Corselets glistened
      hand-forged, hard; on their harness bright
      the steel ring sang, as they strode along
      in mail of battle, and marched to the hall.
      There, weary of ocean, the wall along
      they set their bucklers, their broad shields, down,
      and bowed them to bench: the breastplates clanged,
      war-gear of men; their weapons stacked,
      spears of the seafarers stood together,
      gray-tipped ash: that iron band
      was worthily weaponed! -- A warrior proud
      asked of the heroes their home and kin.
      "Whence, now, bear ye burnished shields,
      harness gray and helmets grim,
      spears in multitude? Messenger, I,
      Hrothgar's herald! Heroes so many
      ne'er met I as strangers of mood so strong.
      'Tis plain that for prowess, not plunged into exile,
      for high-hearted valor, Hrothgar ye seek!"
      Him the sturdy-in-war bespake with words,
      proud earl of the Weders answer made,
      hardy 'neath helmet: -- "Hygelac's, we,
      fellows at board; I am Beowulf named.
      I am seeking to say to the son of Healfdene
      this mission of mine, to thy master-lord,
      the doughty prince, if he deign at all
      grace that we greet him, the good one, now."
      Wulfgar spake, the Wendles' chieftain,
      whose might of mind to many was known,
      his courage and counsel: "The king of Danes,
      the Scyldings' friend, I fain will tell,
      the Breaker-of-Rings, as the boon thou askest,
      the famed prince, of thy faring hither,
      and, swiftly after, such answer bring
      as the doughty monarch may deign to give."
      Hied then in haste to where Hrothgar sat
      white-haired and old, his earls about him,
      till the stout thane stood at the shoulder there
      of the Danish king: good courtier he!
      Wulfgar spake to his winsome lord: --
      "Hither have fared to thee far-come men
      o'er the paths of ocean, people of Geatland;
      and the stateliest there by his sturdy band
      is Beowulf named. This boon they seek,
      that they, my master, may with thee
      have speech at will: nor spurn their prayer
      to give them hearing, gracious Hrothgar!
      In weeds of the warrior worthy they,
      methinks, of our liking; their leader most surely,
      a hero that hither his henchmen has led."

      [1] Either merely paved, the strata via of the Romans, or else
      thought of as a sort of mosaic, an extravagant touch like the
      reckless waste of gold on the walls and roofs of a hall.

      VI

      HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings: --
      "I knew him of yore in his youthful days;
      his aged father was Ecgtheow named,
      to whom, at home, gave Hrethel the Geat
      his only daughter. Their offspring bold
      fares hither to seek the steadfast friend.
      And seamen, too, have said me this, --
      who carried my gifts to the Geatish court,
      thither for thanks, -- he has thirty men's
      heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand,
      the bold-in-battle. Blessed God
      out of his mercy this man hath sent
      to Danes of the West, as I ween indeed,
      against horror of Grendel. I hope to give
      the good youth gold for his gallant thought.
      Be thou in haste, and bid them hither,
      clan of kinsmen, to come before me;
      and add this word, -- they are welcome guests
      to folk of the Danes."
      [To the door of the hall
      Wulfgar went] and the word declared: --
      "To you this message my master sends,
      East-Danes' king, that your kin he knows,
      hardy heroes, and hails you all
      welcome hither o'er waves of the sea!
      Ye may wend your way in war-attire,
      and under helmets Hrothgar greet;
      but let here the battle-shields bide your parley,
      and wooden war-shafts wait its end."
      Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men,
      brave band of thanes: some bode without,
      battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief.
      Then hied that troop where the herald led them,
      under Heorot's roof: [the hero strode,]
      hardy 'neath helm, till the hearth he neared.
      Beowulf spake, -- his breastplate gleamed,
      war-net woven by wit of the smith: --
      "Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac's I,
      kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty
      have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds
      I heard in my home-land heralded clear.
      Seafarers say how stands this hall,
      of buildings best, for your band of thanes
      empty and idle, when evening sun
      in the harbor of heaven is hidden away.
      So my vassals advised me well, --
      brave and wise, the best of men, --
      O sovran Hrothgar, to seek thee here,
      for my nerve and my might they knew full well.
      Themselves had seen me from slaughter come
      blood-flecked from foes, where five I bound,
      and that wild brood worsted. I' the waves I slew
      nicors[1] by night, in need and peril
      avenging the Weders,[2] whose woe they sought, --
      crushing the grim ones. Grendel now,
      monster cruel, be mine to quell
      in single battle! So, from thee,
      thou sovran of the Shining-Danes,
      Scyldings'-bulwark, a boon I seek, --
      and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not,
      O Warriors'-shield, now I've wandered far, --
      that I alone with my liegemen here,
      this hardy band, may Heorot purge!
      More I hear, that the monster dire,
      in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not;
      hence shall I scorn -- so Hygelac stay,
      king of my kindred, kind to me! --
      brand or buckler to bear in the fight,
      gold-colored targe: but with gripe alone
      must I front the fiend and fight for life,
      foe against foe. Then faith be his
      in the doom of the Lord whom death shall take.
      Fain, I ween, if the fight he win,
      in this hall of gold my Geatish band
      will he fearless eat, -- as oft before, --
      my noblest thanes. Nor need'st thou then
      to hide my head;[3] for his shall I be,
      dyed in gore, if death must take me;
      and my blood-covered body he'll bear as prey,
      ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely,
      with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen:
      no further for me need'st food prepare!
      To Hygelac send, if Hild[4] should take me,
      best of war-weeds, warding my breast,
      armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel
      and work of Wayland.[5] Fares Wyrd[6] as she must."

      [1] The nicor, says Bugge, is a hippopotamus; a walrus, says ten
      Brink. But that water-goblin who covers the space from Old Nick
      of jest to the Neckan and Nix of poetry and tale, is all one
      needs, and Nicor is a good name for him. [2] His own people, the
      Geats. [3] That is, cover it as with a face-cloth. "There will be
      no need of funeral rites." [4] Personification of Battle. [5] The
      Germanic Vulcan. [6] This mighty power, whom the Christian poet
      can still revere, has here the general force of "Destiny."

      VII

      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
      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,
      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,
      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,
      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,
      earls o'er the ale-cup, armed 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,
      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."

      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,
      served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang
      blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,
      no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane.

      [1] There is no irrelevance here. Hrothgar sees in Beowulf's
      mission a heritage of duty, a return of the good offices which
      the Danish king rendered to Beowulf's father in time of dire
      need. [2] Money, for wergild, or man-price. [3] Ecgtheow,
      Beowulf's sire.

      VIII

      UNFERTH spake, the son of Ecglaf,
      who sat at the feet of the Scyldings' lord,
      unbound the battle-runes.[1] -- Beowulf's quest,
      sturdy seafarer's, sorely galled him;
      ever he envied that other men
      should more achieve in middle-earth
      of fame under heaven than he himself. --
      "Art thou that Beowulf, Breca's rival,
      who emulous swam on the open sea,
      when for pride the pair of you proved the floods,
      and wantonly dared in waters deep
      to risk your lives? No living man,
      or lief or loath, from your labor dire
      could you dissuade, from swimming the main.
      Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered,
      with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured,
      swam o'er the waters. Winter's storm
      rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea
      a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee,
      had more of main! Him at morning-tide
      billows bore to the Battling Reamas,
      whence he hied to his home so dear
      beloved of his liegemen, to land of Brondings,
      fastness fair, where his folk he ruled,
      town and treasure. In triumph o'er thee
      Beanstan's bairn[2] his boast achieved.
      So ween I for thee a worse adventure
      -- though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been,
      in struggle grim, -- if Grendel's approach
      thou darst await through the watch of night!"

      Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
      "What a deal hast uttered, dear my Unferth,
      drunken with beer, of Breca now,
      told of his triumph! Truth I claim it,
      that I had more of might in the sea
      than any man else, more ocean-endurance.
      We twain had talked, in time of youth,
      and made our boast, -- we were merely boys,
      striplings still, -- to stake our lives
      far at sea: and so we performed it.
      Naked swords, as we swam along,
      we held in hand, with hope to guard us
      against the whales. Not a whit from me
      could he float afar o'er the flood of waves,
      haste o'er the billows; nor him I abandoned.
      Together we twain on the tides abode
      five nights full till the flood divided us,
      churning waves and chillest weather,
      darkling night, and the northern wind
      ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge.
      Now the wrath of the sea-fish rose apace;
      yet me 'gainst the monsters my mailed coat,
      hard and hand-linked, help afforded, --
      battle-sark braided my breast to ward,
      garnished with gold. There grasped me firm
      and haled me to bottom the hated foe,
      with grimmest gripe. 'Twas granted me, though,
      to pierce the monster with point of sword,
      with blade of battle: huge beast of the sea
      was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine.

      [1] "Began the fight." [2] Breca.

      IX

      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,
      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
      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!
      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,
      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,
      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
      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
      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
      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
      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
      the Bright-Danes' 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,
      gold-decked, greeting the guests in hall;
      and the high-born lady handed the cup
      first to the East-Danes' heir and warden,
      bade him be blithe at the beer-carouse,
      the land's beloved one. Lustily took he
      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,
      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,
      hardy-in-war, from Wealhtheow'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,
      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."
      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,
      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,
      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,
      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;
      remember thy glory; thy might declare;
      watch for the foe! No wish shall fail thee
      if thou bidest the battle with bold-won life."

      [1] Murder.

      X

      THEN Hrothgar went with his hero-train,
      defence-of-Scyldings, forth from hall;
      fain would the war-lord Wealhtheow seek,
      couch of his queen. The King-of-Glory
      against this Grendel a guard had set,
      so heroes heard, a hall-defender,
      who warded the monarch and watched for the monster.
      In truth, the Geats' prince gladly trusted
      his mettle, his might, the mercy of God!
      Cast off then his corselet of iron,
      helmet from head; to his henchman gave, --
      choicest of weapons, -- the well-chased sword,
      bidding him guard the gear of battle.
      Spake then his Vaunt the valiant man,
      Beowulf Geat, ere the bed be sought: --
      "Of force in fight no feebler I count me,
      in grim war-deeds, than Grendel deems him.
      Not with the sword, then, to sleep of death
      his life will I give, though it lie in my power.
      No skill is his to strike against me,
      my shield to hew though he hardy be,
      bold in battle; we both, this night,
      shall spurn the sword, if he seek me here,
      unweaponed, for war. Let wisest God,
      sacred Lord, on which side soever
      doom decree as he deemeth right."
      Reclined then the chieftain, and cheek-pillows held
      the head of the earl, while all about him
      seamen hardy on hall-beds sank.
      None of them thought that thence their steps
      to the folk and fastness that fostered them,
      to the land they loved, would lead them back!
      Full well they wist that on warriors many
      battle-death seized, in the banquet-hall,
      of Danish clan. But comfort and help,
      war-weal weaving, to Weder folk
      the Master gave, that, by might of one,
      over their enemy all prevailed,
      by single strength. In sooth 'tis told
      that highest God o'er human kind
      hath wielded ever! -- Thro' wan night striding,
      came the walker-in-shadow. Warriors slept
      whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, --
      all save one. 'Twas widely known
      that against God's will the ghostly ravager
      him[1] could not hurl to haunts of darkness;
      wakeful, ready, with warrior's wrath,
      bold he bided the battle's issue.

      [1] Beowulf, -- the "one."

      XI

      THEN from the moorland, by misty crags,
      with God's wrath laden, Grendel came.
      The monster was minded of mankind now
      sundry to seize in the stately house.
      Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,
      gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,
      flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,
      that he the home of Hrothgar sought, --
      yet ne'er in his life-day, late or early,
      such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!
      To the house the warrior walked apace,
      parted from peace;[1] the portal opended,
      though with forged bolts fast, when his fists had
      struck it,
      and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,
      the house's mouth. All hastily, then,
      o'er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,
      ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyes
      fearful flashes, like flame to see.

      He spied in hall the hero-band,
      kin and clansmen clustered asleep,
      hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;
      for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,
      savage, to sever the soul of each,
      life from body, since lusty banquet
      waited his will! But Wyrd forbade him
      to seize any more of men on earth
      after that evening. Eagerly watched
      Hygelac's kinsman his cursed foe,
      how he would fare in fell attack.
      Not that the monster was minded to pause!
      Straightway he seized a sleeping warrior
      for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,
      the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,
      swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus
      the lifeless corse was clear devoured,
      e'en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;
      for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,
      felt for the foe with fiendish claw,
      for the hero reclining, -- who clutched it boldly,
      prompt to answer, propped on his arm.
      Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evils
      that never he met in this middle-world,
      in the ways of earth, another wight
      with heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,
      sorrowed in soul, -- none the sooner escaped!
      Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,
      the den of devils: no doings now
      such as oft he had done in days of old!
      Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thane
      of his boast at evening: up he bounded,
      grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.
      The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.
      The monster meant -- if he might at all --
      to fling himself free, and far away
      fly to the fens, -- knew his fingers' power
      in the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome march
      to Heorot this monster of harm had made!
      Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,
      castle-dwellers and clansmen all,
      earls, of their ale. Angry were both
      those savage hall-guards: the house resounded.
      Wonder it was the wine-hall firm
      in the strain of their struggle stood, to earth
      the fair house fell not; too fast it was
      within and without by its iron bands
      craftily clamped; though there crashed from sill
      many a mead-bench -- men have told me --
      gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.
      So well had weened the wisest Scyldings
      that not ever at all might any man
      that bone-decked, brave house break asunder,
      crush by craft, -- unless clasp of fire
      in smoke engulfed it. -- Again uprose
      din redoubled. Danes of the North
      with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,
      who from the wall that wailing heard,
      God's foe sounding his grisly song,
      cry of the conquered, clamorous pain
      from captive of hell. Too closely held him
      he who of men in might was strongest
      in that same day of this our life.

      [1] That is, he was a "lost soul," doomed to hell.

      XII

      NOT in any wise would the earls'-defence[1]
      suffer that slaughterous stranger to live,
      useless deeming his days and years
      to men on earth. Now many an earl
      of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral,
      fain the life of their lord to shield,
      their praised prince, if power were theirs;
      never they knew, -- as they neared the foe,
      hardy-hearted heroes of war,
      aiming their swords on every side
      the accursed to kill, -- no keenest blade,
      no farest of falchions fashioned on earth,
      could harm or hurt that hideous fiend!
      He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle,
      from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting
      on that same day of this our life
      woful should be, and his wandering soul
      far off flit to the fiends' domain.
      Soon he found, who in former days,
      harmful in heart and hated of God,
      on many a man such murder wrought,
      that the frame of his body failed him now.
      For him the keen-souled kinsman of Hygelac
      held in hand; hateful alive
      was each to other. The outlaw dire
      took mortal hurt; a mighty wound
      showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked,
      and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now
      the glory was given, and Grendel thence
      death-sick his den in the dark moor sought,
      noisome abode: he knew too well
      that here was the last of life, an end
      of his days on earth. -- To all the Danes
      by that bloody battle the boon had come.
      From ravage had rescued the roving stranger
      Hrothgar's hall; the hardy and wise one
      had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him,
      his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes
      had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good,
      all their sorrow and ills assuaged,
      their bale of battle borne so long,
      and all the dole they erst endured
      pain a-plenty. -- 'Twas proof of this,
      when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down,
      arm and shoulder, -- all, indeed,
      of Grendel's gripe, -- 'neath the gabled roof.

      [1] Kenning for Beowulf.

      XIII

      MANY at morning, as men have told me,
      warriors gathered the gift-hall round,
      folk-leaders faring from far and near,
      o'er wide-stretched ways, the wonder to view,
      trace of the traitor. Not troublous seemed
      the enemy's end to any man
      who saw by the gait of the graceless foe
      how the weary-hearted, away from thence,
      baffled in battle and banned, his steps
      death-marked dragged to the devils' mere.
      Bloody the billows were boiling there,
      turbid the tide of tumbling waves
      horribly seething, with sword-blood hot,
      by that doomed one dyed, who in den of the moor
      laid forlorn his life adown,
      his heathen soul, and hell received it.
      Home then rode the hoary clansmen
      from that merry journey, and many a youth,
      on horses white, the hardy warriors,
      back from the mere. Then Beowulf's glory
      eager they echoed, and all averred
      that from sea to sea, or south or north,
      there was no other in earth's domain,
      under vault of heaven, more valiant found,
      of warriors none more worthy to rule!
      (On their lord beloved they laid no slight,
      gracious Hrothgar: a good king he!)
      From time to time, the tried-in-battle
      their gray steeds set to gallop amain,
      and ran a race when the road seemed fair.
      From time to time, a thane of the king,
      who had made many vaunts, and was mindful of verses,
      stored with sagas and songs of old,
      bound word to word in well-knit rime,
      welded his lay; this warrior soon
      of Beowulf's quest right cleverly sang,
      and artfully added an excellent tale,
      in well-ranged words, of the warlike deeds
      he had heard in saga of Sigemund.
      Strange the story: he said it all, --
      the Waelsing's wanderings wide, his struggles,
      which never were told to tribes of men,
      the feuds and the frauds, save to Fitela only,
      when of these doings he deigned to speak,
      uncle to nephew; as ever the twain
      stood side by side in stress of war,
      and multitude of the monster kind
      they had felled with their swords. Of Sigemund grew,
      when he passed from life, no little praise;
      for the doughty-in-combat a dragon killed
      that herded the hoard:[1] under hoary rock
      the atheling dared the deed alone
      fearful quest, nor was Fitela there.
      Yet so it befell, his falchion pierced
      that wondrous worm, -- on the wall it struck,
      best blade; the dragon died in its blood.
      Thus had the dread-one by daring achieved
      over the ring-hoard to rule at will,
      himself to pleasure; a sea-boat he loaded,
      and bore on its bosom the beaming gold,
      son of Waels; the worm was consumed.
      He had of all heroes the highest renown
      among races of men, this refuge-of-warriors,
      for deeds of daring that decked his name
      since the hand and heart of Heremod
      grew slack in battle. He, swiftly banished
      to mingle with monsters at mercy of foes,
      to death was betrayed; for torrents of sorrow
      had lamed him too long; a load of care
      to earls and athelings all he proved.
      Oft indeed, in earlier days,
      for the warrior's wayfaring wise men mourned,
      who had hoped of him help from harm and bale,
      and had thought their sovran's son would thrive,
      follow his father, his folk protect,
      the hoard and the stronghold, heroes' land,
      home of Scyldings. -- But here, thanes said,
      the kinsman of Hygelac kinder seemed
      to all: the other[2] was urged to crime!
      And afresh to the race,[3] the fallow roads
      by swift steeds measured! The morning sun
      was climbing higher. Clansmen hastened
      to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,
      the wonder to witness. Warden of treasure,
      crowned with glory, the king himself,
      with stately band from the bride-bower strode;
      and with him the queen and her crowd of maidens
      measured the path to the mead-house fair.

      [1] "Guarded the treasure." [2] Sc. Heremod. [3] The singer has
      sung his lays, and the epic resumes its story. The time-relations
      are not altogether good in this long passage which describes the
      rejoicings of "the day after"; but the present shift from the
      riders on the road to the folk at the hall is not very violent,
      and is of a piece with the general style.

      XIV

      HROTHGAR spake, -- to the hall he went,
      stood by the steps, the steep roof saw,
      garnished with gold, and Grendel's hand: --
      "For the sight I see to the Sovran Ruler
      be speedy thanks! A throng of sorrows
      I have borne from Grendel; but God still works
      wonder on wonder, the Warden-of-Glory.
      It was but now that I never more
      for woes that weighed on me waited help
      long as I lived, when, laved in blood,
      stood sword-gore-stained this stateliest house, --
      widespread woe for wise men all,
      who had no hope to hinder ever
      foes infernal and fiendish sprites
      from havoc in hall. This hero now,
      by the Wielder's might, a work has done
      that not all of us erst could ever do
      by wile and wisdom. Lo, well can she say
      whoso of women this warrior bore
      among sons of men, if still she liveth,
      that the God of the ages was good to her
      in the birth of her bairn. Now, Beowulf, thee,
      of heroes best, I shall heartily love
      as mine own, my son; preserve thou ever
      this kinship new: thou shalt never lack
      wealth of the world that I wield as mine!
      Full oft for less have I largess showered,
      my precious hoard, on a punier man,
      less stout in struggle. Thyself hast now
      fulfilled such deeds, that thy fame shall endure
      through all the ages. As ever he did,
      well may the Wielder reward thee still!"
      Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
      "This work of war most willingly
      we have fought, this fight, and fearlessly dared
      force of the foe. Fain, too, were I
      hadst thou but seen himself, what time
      the fiend in his trappings tottered to fall!
      Swiftly, I thought, in strongest gripe
      on his bed of death to bind him down,
      that he in the hent of this hand of mine
      should breathe his last: but he broke away.
      Him I might not -- the Maker willed not --
      hinder from flight, and firm enough hold
      the life-destroyer: too sturdy was he,
      the ruthless, in running! For rescue, however,
      he left behind him his hand in pledge,
      arm and shoulder; nor aught of help
      could the cursed one thus procure at all.
      None the longer liveth he, loathsome fiend,
      sunk in his sins, but sorrow holds him
      tightly grasped in gripe of anguish,
      in baleful bonds, where bide he must,
      evil outlaw, such awful doom
      as the Mighty Maker shall mete him out."

      More silent seemed the son of Ecglaf[1]
      in boastful speech of his battle-deeds,
      since athelings all, through the earl's great prowess,
      beheld that hand, on the high roof gazing,
      foeman's fingers, -- the forepart of each
      of the sturdy nails to steel was likest, --
      heathen's "hand-spear," hostile warrior's
      claw uncanny. 'Twas clear, they said,
      that him no blade of the brave could touch,
      how keen soever, or cut away
      that battle-hand bloody from baneful foe.

      [1] Unferth, Beowulf's sometime opponent in the flyting.

      XV

      THERE was hurry and hest in Heorot now
      for hands to bedeck it, and dense was the throng
      of men and women the wine-hall to cleanse,
      the guest-room to garnish. Gold-gay shone the hangings
      that were wove on the wall, and wonders many
      to delight each mortal that looks upon them.
      Though braced within by iron bands,
      that building bright was broken sorely;[1]
      rent were its hinges; the roof alone
      held safe and sound, when, seared with crime,
      the fiendish foe his flight essayed,
      of life despairing. -- No light thing that,
      the flight for safety, -- essay it who will!
      Forced of fate, he shall find his way
      to the refuge ready for race of man,
      for soul-possessors, and sons of earth;
      and there his body on bed of death
      shall rest after revel.
      Arrived was the hour
      when to hall proceeded Healfdene's son:
      the king himself would sit to banquet.
      Ne'er heard I of host in haughtier throng
      more graciously gathered round giver-of-rings!
      Bowed then to bench those bearers-of-glory,
      fain of the feasting. Featly received
      many a mead-cup the mighty-in-spirit,
      kinsmen who sat in the sumptuous hall,
      Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Heorot now
      was filled with friends; the folk of Scyldings
      ne'er yet had tried the traitor's deed.
      To Beowulf gave the bairn of Healfdene
      a gold-wove banner, guerdon of triumph,
      broidered battle-flag, breastplate and helmet;
      and a splendid sword was seen of many
      borne to the brave one. Beowulf took
      cup in hall:[2] for such costly gifts
      he suffered no shame in that soldier throng.
      For I heard of few heroes, in heartier mood,
      with four such gifts, so fashioned with gold,
      on the ale-bench honoring others thus!
      O'er the roof of the helmet high, a ridge,
      wound with wires, kept ward o'er the head,
      lest the relict-of-files[3] should fierce invade,
      sharp in the strife, when that shielded hero
      should go to grapple against his foes.
      Then the earls'-defence[4] on the floor[5] bade lead
      coursers eight, with carven head-gear,
      adown the hall: one horse was decked
      with a saddle all shining and set in jewels;
      'twas the battle-seat of the best of kings,
      when to play of swords the son of Healfdene
      was fain to fare. Ne'er failed his valor
      in the crush of combat when corpses fell.
      To Beowulf over them both then gave
      the refuge-of-Ingwines right and power,
      o'er war-steeds and weapons: wished him joy of them.
      Manfully thus the mighty prince,
      hoard-guard for heroes, that hard fight repaid
      with steeds and treasures contemned by none
      who is willing to say the sooth aright.

      [1] There is no horrible inconsistency here such as the critics
      strive and cry about. In spite of the ruin that Grendel and
      Beowulf had made within the hall, the framework and roof held
      firm, and swift repairs made the interior habitable. Tapestries
      were hung on the walls, and willing hands prepared the banquet.
      [2] From its formal use in other places, this phrase, to take cup
      in hall, or "on the floor," would seem to mean that Beowulf
      stood up to receive his gifts, drink to the donor, and say
      thanks. [3] Kenning for sword. [4] Hrothgar. He is also the
      "refuge of the friends of Ing," below. Ing belongs to myth. [5]
      Horses are frequently led or ridden into the hall where folk sit
      at banquet: so in Chaucer's Squire's tale, in the ballad of King
      Estmere, and in the romances.

      XVI

      AND the lord of earls, to each that came
      with Beowulf over the briny ways,
      an heirloom there at the ale-bench gave,
      precious gift; and the price[1] bade pay
      in gold for him whom Grendel erst
      murdered, -- and fain of them more had killed,
      had not wisest God their Wyrd averted,
      and the man's[2] brave mood. The Maker then
      ruled human kind, as here and now.
      Therefore is insight always best,
      and forethought of mind. How much awaits him
      of lief and of loath, who long time here,
      through days of warfare this world endures!

      Then song and music mingled sounds
      in the presence of Healfdene's head-of-armies[3]
      and harping was heard with the hero-lay
      as Hrothgar's singer the hall-joy woke
      along the mead-seats, making his song
      of that sudden raid on the sons of Finn.[4]
      Healfdene's hero, Hnaef the Scylding,
      was fated to fall in the Frisian slaughter.[5]
      Hildeburh needed not hold in value
      her enemies' honor![6] Innocent both
      were the loved ones she lost at the linden-play,
      bairn and brother, they bowed to fate,
      stricken by spears; 'twas a sorrowful woman!
      None doubted why the daughter of Hoc
      bewailed her doom when dawning came,
      and under the sky she saw them lying,
      kinsmen murdered, where most she had kenned
      of the sweets of the world! By war were swept, too,
      Finn's own liegemen, and few were left;
      in the parleying-place[7] he could ply no longer
      weapon, nor war could he wage on Hengest,
      and rescue his remnant by right of arms
      from the prince's thane. A pact he offered:
      another dwelling the Danes should have,
      hall and high-seat, and half the power
      should fall to them in Frisian land;
      and at the fee-gifts, Folcwald's son
      day by day the Danes should honor,
      the folk of Hengest favor with rings,
      even as truly, with treasure and jewels,
      with fretted gold, as his Frisian kin
      he meant to honor in ale-hall there.
      Pact of peace they plighted further
      on both sides firmly. Finn to Hengest
      with oath, upon honor, openly promised
      that woful remnant, with wise-men's aid,
      nobly to govern, so none of the guests
      by word or work should warp the treaty,[8]
      or with malice of mind bemoan themselves
      as forced to follow their fee-giver's slayer,
      lordless men, as their lot ordained.
      Should Frisian, moreover, with foeman's taunt,
      that murderous hatred to mind recall,
      then edge of the sword must seal his doom.

      Oaths were given, and ancient gold
      heaped from hoard. -- The hardy Scylding,
      battle-thane best,[9] on his balefire lay.
      All on the pyre were plain to see
      the gory sark, the gilded swine-crest,
      boar of hard iron, and athelings many
      slain by the sword: at the slaughter they fell.
      It was Hildeburh's hest, at Hnaef's own pyre
      the bairn of her body on brands to lay,
      his bones to burn, on the balefire placed,
      at his uncle's side. In sorrowful dirges
      bewept them the woman: great wailing ascended.
      Then wound up to welkin the wildest of death-fires,
      roared o'er the hillock:[10] heads all were melted,
      gashes burst, and blood gushed out
      from bites[11] of the body. Balefire devoured,
      greediest spirit, those spared not by war
      out of either folk: their flower was gone.

      [1] Man-price, wergild. [2] Beowulf's. [3] Hrothgar. [4] There is
      no need to assume a gap in the Ms. As before about Sigemund and
      Heremod, so now, though at greater length, about Finn and his
      feud, a lay is chanted or recited; and the epic poet, counting on
      his readers' familiarity with the story, -- a fragment of it
      still exists, -- simply gives the headings. [5] The exact story
      to which this episode refers in summary is not to be determined,
      but the following account of it is reasonable and has good
      support among scholars. Finn, a Frisian chieftain, who
      nevertheless has a "castle" outside the Frisian border, marries
      Hildeburh, a Danish princess; and her brother, Hnaef, with many
      other Danes, pays Finn a visit. Relations between the two peoples
      have been strained before. Something starts the old feud anew;
      and the visitors are attacked in their quarters. Hnaef is killed;
      so is a son of Hildeburh. Many fall on both sides. Peace is
      patched up; a stately funeral is held; and the surviving visitors
      become in a way vassals or liegemen of Finn, going back with him
      to Frisia. So matters rest a while. Hengest is now leader of the
      Danes; but he is set upon revenge for his former lord, Hnaef.
      Probably he is killed in feud; but his clansmen, Guthlaf and
      Oslaf, gather at their home a force of sturdy Danes, come back to
      Frisia, storm Finn's stronghold, kill him, and carry back their
      kinswoman Hildeburh. [6] The "enemies" must be the Frisians. [7]
      Battlefield. -- Hengest is the "prince's thane," companion of
      Hnaef. "Folcwald's son" is Finn. [8] That is, Finn would govern
      in all honor the few Danish warriors who were left, provided, of
      course, that none of them tried to renew the quarrel or avenge
      Hnaef their fallen lord. If, again, one of Finn's Frisians began
      a quarrel, he should die by the sword. [9] Hnaef. [10] The high
      place chosen for the funeral: see description of Beowulf's
      funeral-pile at the end of the poem. [11] Wounds.

      XVII

      THEN hastened those heroes their home to see,
      friendless, to find the Frisian land,
      houses and high burg. Hengest still
      through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn,
      holding pact, yet of home he minded,
      though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive
      over the waters, now waves rolled fierce
      lashed by the winds, or winter locked them
      in icy fetters. Then fared another
      year to men's dwellings, as yet they do,
      the sunbright skies, that their season ever
      duly await. Far off winter was driven;
      fair lay earth's breast; and fain was the rover,
      the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered
      on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep,
      and how to hasten the hot encounter
      where sons of the Frisians were sure to be.
      So he escaped not the common doom,
      when Hun with "Lafing," the light-of-battle,
      best of blades, his bosom pierced:
      its edge was famed with the Frisian earls.
      On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise,
      on himself at home, the horrid sword-death;
      for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack
      had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed,
      mourning their woes.[1] Finn's wavering spirit
      bode not in breast. The burg was reddened
      with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain,
      king amid clansmen; the queen was taken.
      To their ship the Scylding warriors bore
      all the chattels the chieftain owned,
      whatever they found in Finn's domain
      of gems and jewels. The gentle wife
      o'er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore,
      led to her land.
      The lay was finished,
      the gleeman's song. Then glad rose the revel;
      bench-joy brightened. Bearers draw
      from their "wonder-vats" wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth,
      under gold-crown goes where the good pair sit,
      uncle and nephew, true each to the other one,
      kindred in amity. Unferth the spokesman
      at the Scylding lord's feet sat: men had faith in his spirit,
      his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him
      unsure at the sword-play. The Scylding queen spoke:
      "Quaff of this cup, my king and lord,
      breaker of rings, and blithe be thou,
      gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak
      such words of mildness as man should use.
      Be glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful,
      or near or far, which now thou hast.

      Men say to me, as son thou wishest
      yon hero to hold. Thy Heorot purged,
      jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while thou canst,
      with many a largess; and leave to thy kin
      folk and realm when forth thou goest
      to greet thy doom. For gracious I deem
      my Hrothulf,[2] willing to hold and rule
      nobly our youths, if thou yield up first,
      prince of Scyldings, thy part in the world.
      I ween with good he will well requite
      offspring of ours, when all he minds
      that for him we did in his helpless days
      of gift and grace to gain him honor!"
      Then she turned to the seat where her sons wereplaced,
      Hrethric and Hrothmund, with heroes' bairns,
      young men together: the Geat, too, sat there,
      Beowulf brave, the brothers between.

      [1] That is, these two Danes, escaping home, had told the story
      of the attack on Hnaef, the slaying of Hengest, and all the
      Danish woes. Collecting a force, they return to Frisia and kill
      Finn in his home. [2] Nephew to Hrothgar, with whom he
      subsequently quarrels, and elder cousin to the two young sons of
      Hrothgar and Wealhtheow, -- their natural guardian in the event
      of the king's death. There is something finely feminine in this
      speech of Wealhtheow's, apart from its somewhat irregular and
      irrelevant sequence of topics. Both she and her lord probably
      distrust Hrothulf; but she bids the king to be of good cheer,
      and, turning to the suspect, heaps affectionate assurances on his
      probity. "My own Hrothulf" will surely not forget these favors
      and benefits of the past, but will repay them to the orphaned
      boy.

      XVIII

      A CUP she gave him, with kindly greeting
      and winsome words. Of wounden gold,
      she offered, to honor him, arm-jewels twain,
      corselet and rings, and of collars the noblest
      that ever I knew the earth around.
      Ne'er heard I so mighty, 'neath heaven's dome,
      a hoard-gem of heroes, since Hama bore
      to his bright-built burg the Brisings' necklace,
      jewel and gem casket. -- Jealousy fled he,
      Eormenric's hate: chose help eternal.
      Hygelac Geat, grandson of Swerting,
      on the last of his raids this ring bore with him,
      under his banner the booty defending,
      the war-spoil warding; but Wyrd o'erwhelmed him
      what time, in his daring, dangers he sought,
      feud with Frisians. Fairest of gems
      he bore with him over the beaker-of-waves,
      sovran strong: under shield he died.
      Fell the corpse of the king into keeping of Franks,
      gear of the breast, and that gorgeous ring;
      weaker warriors won the spoil,
      after gripe of battle, from Geatland's lord,
      and held the death-field.
      Din rose in hall.
      Wealhtheow spake amid warriors, and said: --
      "This jewel enjoy in thy jocund youth,
      Beowulf lov'd, these battle-weeds wear,
      a royal treasure, and richly thrive!
      Preserve thy strength, and these striplings here
      counsel in kindness: requital be mine.
      Hast done such deeds, that for days to come
      thou art famed among folk both far and near,
      so wide as washeth the wave of Ocean
      his windy walls. Through the ways of life
      prosper, O prince! I pray for thee
      rich possessions. To son of mine
      be helpful in deed and uphold his joys!
      Here every earl to the other is true,
      mild of mood, to the master loyal!
      Thanes are friendly, the throng obedient,
      liegemen are revelling: list and obey!"
      Went then to her place. -- That was proudest of feasts;
      flowed wine for the warriors. Wyrd they knew not,
      destiny dire, and the doom to be seen
      by many an earl when eve should come,
      and Hrothgar homeward hasten away,
      royal, to rest. The room was guarded
      by an army of earls, as erst was done.
      They bared the bench-boards; abroad they spread
      beds and bolsters. -- One beer-carouser
      in danger of doom lay down in the hall. --

      At their heads they set their shields of war,
      bucklers bright; on the bench were there
      over each atheling, easy to see,
      the high battle-helmet, the haughty spear,
      the corselet of rings. 'Twas their custom so
      ever to be for battle prepared,
      at home, or harrying, which it were,
      even as oft as evil threatened
      their sovran king. -- They were clansmen good.

      XIX

      THEN sank they to sleep. With sorrow one bought
      his rest of the evening, -- as ofttime had happened
      when Grendel guarded that golden hall,
      evil wrought, till his end drew nigh,
      slaughter for sins. 'Twas seen and told
      how an avenger survived the fiend,
      as was learned afar. The livelong time
      after that grim fight, Grendel's mother,
      monster of women, mourned her woe.
      She was doomed to dwell in the dreary waters,
      cold sea-courses, since Cain cut down
      with edge of the sword his only brother,
      his father's offspring: outlawed he fled,
      marked with murder, from men's delights
      warded the wilds. -- There woke from him
      such fate-sent ghosts as Grendel, who,
      war-wolf horrid, at Heorot found
      a warrior watching and waiting the fray,
      with whom the grisly one grappled amain.
      But the man remembered his mighty power,
      the glorious gift that God had sent him,
      in his Maker's mercy put his trust
      for comfort and help: so he conquered the foe,
      felled the fiend, who fled abject,
      reft of joy, to the realms of death,
      mankind's foe. And his mother now,
      gloomy and grim, would go that quest
      of sorrow, the death of her son to avenge.
      To Heorot came she, where helmeted Danes
      slept in the hall. Too soon came back
      old ills of the earls, when in she burst,
      the mother of Grendel. Less grim, though, that terror,
      e'en as terror of woman in war is less,
      might of maid, than of men in arms
      when, hammer-forged, the falchion hard,
      sword gore-stained, through swine of the helm,
      crested, with keen blade carves amain.
      Then was in hall the hard-edge drawn,
      the swords on the settles,[1] and shields a-many
      firm held in hand: nor helmet minded
      nor harness of mail, whom that horror seized.
      Haste was hers; she would hie afar
      and save her life when the liegemen saw her.
      Yet a single atheling up she seized
      fast and firm, as she fled to the moor.
      He was for Hrothgar of heroes the dearest,
      of trusty vassals betwixt the seas,
      whom she killed on his couch, a clansman famous,
      in battle brave. -- Nor was Beowulf there;
      another house had been held apart,
      after giving of gold, for the Geat renowned. --
      Uproar filled Heorot; the hand all had viewed,
      blood-flecked, she bore with her; bale was returned,
      dole in the dwellings: 'twas dire exchange
      where Dane and Geat were doomed to give
      the lives of loved ones. Long-tried king,
      the hoary hero, at heart was sad
      when he knew his noble no more lived,
      and dead indeed was his dearest thane.
      To his bower was Beowulf brought in haste,
      dauntless victor. As daylight broke,
      along with his earls the atheling lord,
      with his clansmen, came where the king abode
      waiting to see if the Wielder-of-All
      would turn this tale of trouble and woe.
      Strode o'er floor the famed-in-strife,
      with his hand-companions, -- the hall resounded, --
      wishing to greet the wise old king,
      Ingwines' lord; he asked if the night
      had passed in peace to the prince's mind.

      [1] They had laid their arms on the benches near where they
      slept.

      XX

      HROTHGAR spake, helmet-of-Scyldings: --
      "Ask not of pleasure! Pain is renewed
      to Danish folk. Dead is Aeschere,
      of Yrmenlaf the elder brother,
      my sage adviser and stay in council,
      shoulder-comrade in stress of fight
      when warriors clashed and we warded our heads,
      hewed the helm-boars; hero famed
      should be every earl as Aeschere was!
      But here in Heorot a hand hath slain him
      of wandering death-sprite. I wot not whither,[1]
      proud of the prey, her path she took,
      fain of her fill. The feud she avenged
      that yesternight, unyieldingly,
      Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killedst, --
      seeing how long these liegemen mine
      he ruined and ravaged. Reft of life,
      in arms he fell. Now another comes,
      keen and cruel, her kin to avenge,
      faring far in feud of blood:
      so that many a thane shall think, who e'er
      sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings,
      this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies low
      that once was willing each wish to please.
      Land-dwellers here[2] and liegemen mine,
      who house by those parts, I have heard relate
      that such a pair they have sometimes seen,
      march-stalkers mighty the moorland haunting,
      wandering spirits: one of them seemed,
      so far as my folk could fairly judge,
      of womankind; and one, accursed,
      in man's guise trod the misery-track
      of exile, though huger than human bulk.
      Grendel in days long gone they named him,
      folk of the land; his father they knew not,
      nor any brood that was born to him
      of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home;
      by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,
      fenways fearful, where flows the stream
      from mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks,
      underground flood. Not far is it hence
      in measure of miles that the mere expands,
      and o'er it the frost-bound forest hanging,
      sturdily rooted, shadows the wave.
      By night is a wonder weird to see,
      fire on the waters. So wise lived none
      of the sons of men, to search those depths!
      Nay, though the heath-rover, harried by dogs,
      the horn-proud hart, this holt should seek,
      long distance driven, his dear life first
      on the brink he yields ere he brave the plunge
      to hide his head: 'tis no happy place!
      Thence the welter of waters washes up
      wan to welkin when winds bestir
      evil storms, and air grows dusk,
      and the heavens weep. Now is help once more
      with thee alone! The land thou knowst not,
      place of fear, where thou findest out
      that sin-flecked being. Seek if thou dare!
      I will reward thee, for waging this fight,
      with ancient treasure, as erst I did,
      with winding gold, if thou winnest back."

      [1] He surmises presently where she is. [2] The connection is not
      difficult. The words of mourning, of acute grief, are said; and
      according to Germanic sequence of thought, inexorable here, the
      next and only topic is revenge. But is it possible? Hrothgar
      leads up to his appeal and promise with a skillful and often
      effective description of the horrors which surround the monster's
      home and await the attempt of an avenging foe.

      XXI

      BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:
      "Sorrow not, sage! It beseems us better
      friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them.
      Each of us all must his end abide
      in the ways of the world; so win who may
      glory ere death! When his days are told,
      that is the warrior's worthiest doom.
      Rise, O realm-warder! Ride we anon,
      and mark the trail of the mother of Grendel.
      No harbor shall hide her -- heed my promise! --
      enfolding of field or forested mountain
      or floor of the flood, let her flee where she will!
      But thou this day endure in patience,
      as I ween thou wilt, thy woes each one."
      Leaped up the graybeard: God he thanked,
      mighty Lord, for the man's brave words.
      For Hrothgar soon a horse was saddled
      wave-maned steed. The sovran wise
      stately rode on; his shield-armed men
      followed in force. The footprints led
      along the woodland, widely seen,
      a path o'er the plain, where she passed, and trod
      the murky moor; of men-at-arms
      she bore the bravest and best one, dead,
      him who with Hrothgar the homestead ruled.
      On then went the atheling-born
      o'er stone-cliffs steep and strait defiles,
      narrow passes and unknown ways,
      headlands sheer, and the haunts of the Nicors.
      Foremost he[1] fared, a few at his side
      of the wiser men, the ways to scan,
      till he found in a flash the forested hill
      hanging over the hoary rock,
      a woful wood: the waves below
      were dyed in blood. The Danish men
      had sorrow of soul, and for Scyldings all,
      for many a hero, 'twas hard to bear,
      ill for earls, when Aeschere's head
      they found by the flood on the foreland there.
      Waves were welling, the warriors saw,
      hot with blood; but the horn sang oft
      battle-song bold. The band sat down,
      and watched on the water worm-like things,
      sea-dragons strange that sounded the deep,
      and nicors that lay on the ledge of the ness --
      such as oft essay at hour of morn
      on the road-of-sails their ruthless quest, --
      and sea-snakes and monsters. These started away,
      swollen and savage that song to hear,
      that war-horn's blast. The warden of Geats,
      with bolt from bow, then balked of life,
      of wave-work, one monster, amid its heart
      went the keen war-shaft; in water it seemed
      less doughty in swimming whom death had seized.
      Swift on the billows, with boar-spears well
      hooked and barbed, it was hard beset,
      done to death and dragged on the headland,
      wave-roamer wondrous. Warriors viewed
      the grisly guest.
      Then girt him Beowulf
      in martial mail, nor mourned for his life.
      His breastplate broad and bright of hues,
      woven by hand, should the waters try;
      well could it ward the warrior's body
      that battle should break on his breast in vain
      nor harm his heart by the hand of a foe.
      And the helmet white that his head protected
      was destined to dare the deeps of the flood,
      through wave-whirl win: 'twas wound with chains,
      decked with gold, as in days of yore
      the weapon-smith worked it wondrously,
      with swine-forms set it, that swords nowise,
      brandished in battle, could bite that helm.
      Nor was that the meanest of mighty helps
      which Hrothgar's orator offered at need:
      "Hrunting" they named the hilted sword,
      of old-time heirlooms easily first;
      iron was its edge, all etched with poison,
      with battle-blood hardened, nor blenched it at fight
      in hero's hand who held it ever,
      on paths of peril prepared to go
      to folkstead[2] of foes. Not first time this
      it was destined to do a daring task.
      For he bore not in mind, the bairn of Ecglaf
      sturdy and strong, that speech he had made,
      drunk with wine, now this weapon he lent
      to a stouter swordsman. Himself, though, durst not
      under welter of waters wager his life
      as loyal liegeman. So lost he his glory,
      honor of earls. With the other not so,
      who girded him now for the grim encounter.

      [1] Hrothgar is probably meant. [2] Meeting place.

      XXI

      BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
      "Have mind, thou honored offspring of Healfdene
      gold-friend of men, now I go on this quest,
      sovran wise, what once was said:
      if in thy cause it came that I
      should lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bide
      to me, though fallen, in father's place!
      Be guardian, thou, to this group of my thanes,
      my warrior-friends, if War should seize me;
      and the goodly gifts thou gavest me,
      Hrothgar beloved, to Hygelac send!
      Geatland's king may ken by the gold,
      Hrethel's son see, when he stares at the treasure,
      that I got me a friend for goodness famed,
      and joyed while I could in my jewel-bestower.
      And let Unferth wield this wondrous sword,
      earl far-honored, this heirloom precious,
      hard of edge: with Hrunting I
      seek doom of glory, or Death shall take me."

      After these words the Weder-Geat lord
      boldly hastened, biding never
      answer at all: the ocean floods
      closed o'er the hero. Long while of the day
      fled ere he felt the floor of the sea.

      Soon found the fiend who the flood-domain
      sword-hungry held these hundred winters,
      greedy and grim, that some guest from above,
      some man, was raiding her monster-realm.
      She grasped out for him with grisly claws,
      and the warrior seized; yet scathed she not
      his body hale; the breastplate hindered,
      as she strove to shatter the sark of war,
      the linked harness, with loathsome hand.
      Then bore this brine-wolf, when bottom she touched,
      the lord of rings to the lair she haunted
      whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held,
      weapon to wield against wondrous monsters
      that sore beset him; sea-beasts many
      tried with fierce tusks to tear his mail,
      and swarmed on the stranger. But soon he marked
      he was now in some hall, he knew not which,
      where water never could work him harm,
      nor through the roof could reach him ever
      fangs of the flood. Firelight he saw,
      beams of a blaze that brightly shone.
      Then the warrior was ware of that wolf-of-the-deep,
      mere-wife monstrous. For mighty stroke
      he swung his blade, and the blow withheld not.
      Then sang on her head that seemly blade
      its war-song wild. But the warrior found
      the light-of-battle[1] was loath to bite,
      to harm the heart: its hard edge failed
      the noble at need, yet had known of old
      strife hand to hand, and had helmets cloven,
      doomed men's fighting-gear. First time, this,
      for the gleaming blade that its glory fell.
      Firm still stood, nor failed in valor,
      heedful of high deeds, Hygelac's kinsman;
      flung away fretted sword, featly jewelled,
      the angry earl; on earth it lay
      steel-edged and stiff. His strength he trusted,
      hand-gripe of might. So man shall do
      whenever in war he weens to earn him
      lasting fame, nor fears for his life!
      Seized then by shoulder, shrank not from combat,
      the Geatish war-prince Grendel's mother.
      Flung then the fierce one, filled with wrath,
      his deadly foe, that she fell to ground.
      Swift on her part she paid him back
      with grisly grasp, and grappled with him.
      Spent with struggle, stumbled the warrior,
      fiercest of fighting-men, fell adown.
      On the hall-guest she hurled herself, hent her short sword,
      broad and brown-edged,[2] the bairn to avenge,
      the sole-born son. -- On his shoulder lay
      braided breast-mail, barring death,
      withstanding entrance of edge or blade.
      Life would have ended for Ecgtheow's son,
      under wide earth for that earl of Geats,
      had his armor of war not aided him,
      battle-net hard, and holy God
      wielded the victory, wisest Maker.
      The Lord of Heaven allowed his cause;
      and easily rose the earl erect.

      [1] Kenning for "sword." Hrunting is bewitched, laid under a
      spell of uselessness, along with all other swords. [2] This brown
      of swords, evidently meaning burnished, bright, continues to be a
      favorite adjective in the popular ballads.

      XXIII

      'MID the battle-gear saw he a blade triumphant,
      old-sword of Eotens, with edge of proof,
      warriors' heirloom, weapon unmatched,
      -- save only 'twas more than other men
      to bandy-of-battle could bear at all --
      as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen.
      Seized then its chain-hilt the Scyldings' chieftain,
      bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword,
      reckless of life, and so wrathfully smote
      that it gripped her neck and grasped her hard,
      her bone-rings breaking: the blade pierced through
      that fated-one's flesh: to floor she sank.
      Bloody the blade: he was blithe of his deed.
      Then blazed forth light. 'Twas bright within
      as when from the sky there shines unclouded
      heaven's candle. The hall he scanned.
      By the wall then went he; his weapon raised
      high by its hilts the Hygelac-thane,
      angry and eager. That edge was not useless
      to the warrior now. He wished with speed
      Grendel to guerdon for grim raids many,
      for the war he waged on Western-Danes
      oftener far than an only time,
      when of Hrothgar's hearth-companions
      he slew in slumber, in sleep devoured,
      fifteen men of the folk of Danes,
      and as many others outward bore,
      his horrible prey. Well paid for that
      the wrathful prince! For now prone he saw
      Grendel stretched there, spent with war,
      spoiled of life, so scathed had left him
      Heorot's battle. The body sprang far
      when after death it endured the blow,
      sword-stroke savage, that severed its head.
      Soon,[1] then, saw the sage companions
      who waited with Hrothgar, watching the flood,
      that the tossing waters turbid grew,
      blood-stained the mere. Old men together,
      hoary-haired, of the hero spake;
      the warrior would not, they weened, again,
      proud of conquest, come to seek
      their mighty master. To many it seemed
      the wolf-of-the-waves had won his life.
      The ninth hour came. The noble Scyldings
      left the headland; homeward went
      the gold-friend of men.[2] But the guests sat on,
      stared at the surges, sick in heart,
      and wished, yet weened not, their winsome lord
      again to see.

      Now that sword began,
      from blood of the fight, in battle-droppings,[3]
      war-blade, to wane: 'twas a wondrous thing
      that all of it melted as ice is wont
      when frosty fetters the Father loosens,
      unwinds the wave-bonds, wielding all
      seasons and times: the true God he!
      Nor took from that dwelling the duke of the Geats
      save only the head and that hilt withal
      blazoned with jewels: the blade had melted,
      burned was the bright sword, her blood was so hot,
      so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished within there.
      Soon he was swimming who safe saw in combat
      downfall of demons; up-dove through the flood.
      The clashing waters were cleansed now,
      waste of waves, where the wandering fiend
      her life-days left and this lapsing world.
      Swam then to strand the sailors'-refuge,
      sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty glad,
      of burden brave he bore with him.
      Went then to greet him, and God they thanked,
      the thane-band choice of their chieftain blithe,
      that safe and sound they could see him again.
      Soon from the hardy one helmet and armor
      deftly they doffed: now drowsed the mere,
      water 'neath welkin, with war-blood stained.
      Forth they fared by the footpaths thence,
      merry at heart the highways measured,
      well-known roads. Courageous men
      carried the head from the cliff by the sea,
      an arduous task for all the band,
      the firm in fight, since four were needed
      on the shaft-of-slaughter[4] strenuously
      to bear to the gold-hall Grendel's head.
      So presently to the palace there
      foemen fearless, fourteen Geats,
      marching came. Their master-of-clan
      mighty amid them the meadow-ways trod.
      Strode then within the sovran thane
      fearless in fight, of fame renowned,
      hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet.
      And next by the hair into hall was borne
      Grendel's head, where the henchmen were drinking,
      an awe to clan and queen alike,
      a monster of marvel: the men looked on.

      [1] After the killing of the monster and Grendel's decapitation.
      [2] Hrothgar. [3] The blade slowly dissolves in blood-stained
      drops like icicles. [4] Spear.

      XXIV

      BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
      "Lo, now, this sea-booty, son of Healfdene,
      Lord of Scyldings, we've lustily brought thee,
      sign of glory; thou seest it here.
      Not lightly did I with my life escape!
      In war under water this work I essayed
      with endless effort; and even so
      my strength had been lost had the Lord not shielded me.
      Not a whit could I with Hrunting do
      in work of war, though the weapon is good;
      yet a sword the Sovran of Men vouchsafed me
      to spy on the wall there, in splendor hanging,
      old, gigantic, -- how oft He guides
      the friendless wight! -- and I fought with that brand,
      felling in fight, since fate was with me,
      the house's wardens. That war-sword then
      all burned, bright blade, when the blood gushed o'er it,
      battle-sweat hot; but the hilt I brought back
      from my foes. So avenged I their fiendish deeds
      death-fall of Danes, as was due and right.
      And this is my hest, that in Heorot now
      safe thou canst sleep with thy soldier band,
      and every thane of all thy folk
      both old and young; no evil fear,
      Scyldings' lord, from that side again,
      aught ill for thy earls, as erst thou must!"
      Then the golden hilt, for that gray-haired leader,
      hoary hero, in hand was laid,
      giant-wrought, old. So owned and enjoyed it
      after downfall of devils, the Danish lord,
      wonder-smiths' work, since the world was rid
      of that grim-souled fiend, the foe of God,
      murder-marked, and his mother as well.
      Now it passed into power of the people's king,
      best of all that the oceans bound
      who have scattered their gold o'er Scandia's isle.
      Hrothgar spake -- the hilt he viewed,
      heirloom old, where was etched the rise
      of that far-off fight when the floods o'erwhelmed,
      raging waves, the race of giants
      (fearful their fate!), a folk estranged
      from God Eternal: whence guerdon due
      in that waste of waters the Wielder paid them.
      So on the guard of shining gold
      in runic staves it was rightly said
      for whom the serpent-traced sword was wrought,
      best of blades, in bygone days,
      and the hilt well wound. -- The wise-one spake,
      son of Healfdene; silent were all: --
      "Lo, so may he say who sooth and right
      follows 'mid folk, of far times mindful,
      a land-warden old,[1] that this earl belongs
      to the better breed! So, borne aloft,
      thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,
      far and wide o'er folksteads many. Firmly thou
      shalt all maintain,
      mighty strength with mood of wisdom. Love of
      mine will I assure thee,
      as, awhile ago, I promised; thou shalt prove a stay
      in future,
      in far-off years, to folk of thine,
      to the heroes a help. Was not Heremod thus
      to offspring of Ecgwela, Honor-Scyldings,
      nor grew for their grace, but for grisly slaughter,
      for doom of death to the Danishmen.

      He slew, wrath-swollen, his shoulder-comrades,
      companions at board! So he passed alone,
      chieftain haughty, from human cheer.
      Though him the Maker with might endowed,
      delights of power, and uplifted high
      above all men, yet blood-fierce his mind,
      his breast-hoard, grew, no bracelets gave he
      to Danes as was due; he endured all joyless
      strain of struggle and stress of woe,
      long feud with his folk. Here find thy lesson!
      Of virtue advise thee! This verse I have said for thee,
      wise from lapsed winters. Wondrous seems
      how to sons of men Almighty God
      in the strength of His spirit sendeth wisdom,
      estate, high station: He swayeth all things.
      Whiles He letteth right lustily fare
      the heart of the hero of high-born race, --
      in seat ancestral assigns him bliss,
      his folk's sure fortress in fee to hold,
      puts in his power great parts of the earth,
      empire so ample, that end of it
      this wanter-of-wisdom weeneth none.
      So he waxes in wealth, nowise can harm him
      illness or age; no evil cares
      shadow his spirit; no sword-hate threatens
      from ever an enemy: all the world
      wends at his will, no worse he knoweth,
      till all within him obstinate pride
      waxes and wakes while the warden slumbers,
      the spirit's sentry; sleep is too fast
      which masters his might, and the murderer nears,
      stealthily shooting the shafts from his bow!

      [1] That is, "whoever has as wide authority as I have and can
      remember so far back so many instances of heroism, may well say,
      as I say, that no better hero ever lived than Beowulf."

      XXV

      "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
      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,
      fated 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,
      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,
      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,
      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
      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
      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!"
      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
      dusk o'er the drinkers.
      The doughty ones rose:
      for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest,
      aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,
      shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.
      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.
      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,
      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,
      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
      warriors waited, while went to his host
      that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling
      to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.

      [1] That is, he is now undefended by conscience from the
      temptations (shafts) of the devil. [2] Kenning for the sun. --
      This is a strange role for the raven. He is the warrior's bird of
      battle, exults in slaughter and carnage; his joy here is a
      compliment to the sunrise.

      XXVI

      BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: --
      "Lo, we seafarers say our will,
      far-come men, that we fain would seek
      Hygelac now. We here have found
      hosts to our heart: thou hast harbored us well.
      If ever on earth I am able to win me
      more of thy love, O lord of men,
      aught anew, than I now have done,
      for work of war I am willing still!
      If it come to me ever across the seas
      that neighbor foemen annoy and fright thee, --
      as they that hate thee erewhile have used, --
      thousands then of thanes I shall bring,
      heroes to help thee. Of Hygelac I know,
      ward of his folk, that, though few his years,
      the lord of the Geats will give me aid
      by word and by work, that well I may serve thee,
      wielding the war-wood to win thy triumph
      and lending thee might when thou lackest men.
      If thy Hrethric should come to court of Geats,
      a sovran's son, he will surely there
      find his friends. A far-off land
      each man should visit who vaunts him brave."
      Him then answering, Hrothgar spake: --
      "These words of thine the wisest God
      sent to thy soul! No sager counsel
      from so young in years e'er yet have I heard.
      Thou art strong of main and in mind art wary,
      art wise in words! I ween indeed
      if ever it hap that Hrethel's heir
      by spear be seized, by sword-grim battle,
      by illness or iron, thine elder and lord,
      people's leader, -- and life be thine, --
      no seemlier man will the Sea-Geats find
      at all to choose for their chief and king,
      for hoard-guard of heroes, if hold thou wilt
      thy kinsman's kingdom! Thy keen mind pleases me
      the longer the better, Beowulf loved!

      Thou hast brought it about that both our peoples,
      sons of the Geat and Spear-Dane folk,
      shall have mutual peace, and from murderous strife,
      such as once they waged, from war refrain.
      Long as I rule this realm so wide,
      let our hoards be common, let heroes with gold
      each other greet o'er the gannet's-bath,
      and the ringed-prow bear o'er rolling waves
      tokens of love. I trow my landfolk
      towards friend and foe are firmly joined,
      and honor they keep in the olden way."
      To him in the hall, then, Healfdene's son
      gave treasures twelve, and the trust-of-earls
      bade him fare with the gifts to his folk beloved,
      hale to his home, and in haste return.
      Then kissed the king of kin renowned,
      Scyldings' chieftain, that choicest thane,
      and fell on his neck. Fast flowed the tears
      of the hoary-headed. Heavy with winters,
      he had chances twain, but he clung to this,[1] --
      that each should look on the other again,
      and hear him in hall. Was this hero so dear to him.
      his breast's wild billows he banned in vain;
      safe in his soul a secret longing,
      locked in his mind, for that loved man
      burned in his blood. Then Beowulf strode,
      glad of his gold-gifts, the grass-plot o'er,
      warrior blithe. The wave-roamer bode
      riding at anchor, its owner awaiting.
      As they hastened onward, Hrothgar's gift
      they lauded at length. -- 'Twas a lord unpeered,
      every way blameless, till age had broken
      -- it spareth no mortal -- his splendid might.

      [1] That is, he might or might not see Beowulf again. Old as he
      was, the latter chance was likely; but he clung to the former,
      hoping to see his young friend again "and exchange brave words in
      the hall."

      XXVII

      CAME now to ocean the ever-courageous
      hardy henchmen, their harness bearing,
      woven war-sarks. The warden marked,
      trusty as ever, the earl's return.
      From the height of the hill no hostile words
      reached the guests as he rode to greet them;
      but "Welcome!" he called to that Weder clan
      as the sheen-mailed spoilers to ship marched on.
      Then on the strand, with steeds and treasure
      and armor their roomy and ring-dight ship
      was heavily laden: high its mast
      rose over Hrothgar's hoarded gems.
      A sword to the boat-guard Beowulf gave,
      mounted with gold; on the mead-bench since
      he was better esteemed, that blade possessing,
      heirloom old. -- Their ocean-keel boarding,
      they drove through the deep, and Daneland left.
      A sea-cloth was set, a sail with ropes,
      firm to the mast; the flood-timbers moaned;[1]
      nor did wind over billows that wave-swimmer blow
      across from her course. The craft sped on,
      foam-necked it floated forth o'er the waves,
      keel firm-bound over briny currents,
      till they got them sight of the Geatish cliffs,
      home-known headlands. High the boat,
      stirred by winds, on the strand updrove.
      Helpful at haven the harbor-guard stood,
      who long already for loved companions
      by the water had waited and watched afar.
      He bound to the beach the broad-bosomed ship
      with anchor-bands, lest ocean-billows
      that trusty timber should tear away.
      Then Beowulf bade them bear the treasure,
      gold and jewels; no journey far
      was it thence to go to the giver of rings,
      Hygelac Hrethling: at home he dwelt
      by the sea-wall close, himself and clan.
      Haughty that house, a hero the king,
      high the hall, and Hygd[2] right young,
      wise and wary, though winters few
      in those fortress walls she had found a home,
      Haereth's daughter. Nor humble her ways,
      nor grudged she gifts to the Geatish men,
      of precious treasure. Not Thryth's pride showed she,
      folk-queen famed, or that fell deceit.
      Was none so daring that durst make bold
      (save her lord alone) of the liegemen dear
      that lady full in the face to look,
      but forged fetters he found his lot,
      bonds of death! And brief the respite;
      soon as they seized him, his sword-doom was spoken,
      and the burnished blade a baleful murder
      proclaimed and closed. No queenly way
      for woman to practise, though peerless she,
      that the weaver-of-peace[3] from warrior dear
      by wrath and lying his life should reave!
      But Hemming's kinsman hindered this. --
      For over their ale men also told
      that of these folk-horrors fewer she wrought,
      onslaughts of evil, after she went,
      gold-decked bride, to the brave young prince,
      atheling haughty, and Offa's hall
      o'er the fallow flood at her father's bidding
      safely sought, where since she prospered,
      royal, throned, rich in goods,
      fain of the fair life fate had sent her,
      and leal in love to the lord of warriors.
      He, of all heroes I heard of ever
      from sea to sea, of the sons of earth,
      most excellent seemed. Hence Offa was praised
      for his fighting and feeing by far-off men,
      the spear-bold warrior; wisely he ruled
      over his empire. Eomer woke to him,
      help of heroes, Hemming's kinsman,
      Grandson of Garmund, grim in war.

      [1] With the speed of the boat. [2] Queen to Hygelac. She is
      praised by contrast with the antitype, Thryth, just as Beowulf
      was praised by contrast with Heremod. [3] Kenning for "wife."

      XXVIII

      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
      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,
      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,
      kinsman by kinsman. His kindly lord
      he first had greeted in gracious form,
      with manly words. The mead dispensing,
      came through the high hall Haereth's daughter,
      winsome to warriors, wine-cup bore
      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,
      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
      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
      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,
      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,
      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,
      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,
      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
      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's-friend,
      kingdom's-keeper: he counts it wise
      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,
      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,
      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
      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
      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?
      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
      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.
      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
      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
      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,
      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,
      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,
      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.
      '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;
      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,
      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,
      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,
      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
      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 Aeschere old,
      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
      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
      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;
      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,
      gave me in guerdon great gifts of price.

      Note: [1] Beowulf gives his uncle the king not mere gossip of his
      journey, but a statesmanlike forecast of the outcome of certain
      policies at the Danish court. Talk of interpolation here is
      absurd. As both Beowulf and Hygelac know, -- and the folk for
      whom the Beowulf was put together also knew, -- Froda was king of
      the Heathobards (probably the Langobards, once near neighbors of
      Angle and Saxon tribes on the continent), and had fallen
      in fight with the Danes. Hrothgar will set aside this feud by
      giving his daughter as "peace-weaver" and wife to the young king
      Ingeld, son of the slain Froda. But Beowulf, on general
      principles and from his observation of the particular case,
      foretells trouble. Note: [2] Play of shields, battle. A Danish
      warrior cuts down Froda in the fight, and takes his sword and
      armor, leaving them to a son. This son is selected to accompany
      his mistress, the young princess Freawaru, to her new home when
      she is Ingeld's queen. Heedlessly he wears the sword of Froda in
      hall. An old warrior points it out to Ingeld, and eggs him on to
      vengeance. At his instigation the Dane is killed; but the
      murderer, afraid of results, and knowing the land, escapes. So
      the old feud must break out again. [3] That is, their disastrous
      battle and the slaying of their king. [4] The sword. [5] Beowulf
      returns to his forecast. Things might well go somewhat as
      follows, he says; sketches a little tragic story; and with this
      prophecy by illustration returns to the tale of his adventure.
      [6] Not an actual glove, but a sort of bag.

      XXXI

      "So held this king to the customs old,
      that I wanted for nought in the wage I gained,
      the meed of my might; he made me gifts,
      Healfdene's heir, for my own disposal.
      Now to thee, my prince, I proffer them all,
      gladly give them. Thy grace alone
      can find me favor. Few indeed
      have I of kinsmen, save, Hygelac, thee!"
      Then he bade them bear him the boar-head standard,
      the battle-helm high, and breastplate gray,
      the splendid sword; then spake in form: --
      "Me this war-gear the wise old prince,
      Hrothgar, gave, and his hest he added,
      that its story be straightway said to thee. --
      A while it was held by Heorogar king,
      for long time lord of the land of Scyldings;
      yet not to his son the sovran left it,
      to daring Heoroweard, -- dear as he was to him,
      his harness of battle. -- Well hold thou it all!"
      And I heard that soon passed o'er the path of this treasure,
      all apple-fallow, four good steeds,
      each like the others, arms and horses
      he gave to the king. So should kinsmen be,
      not weave one another the net of wiles,
      or with deep-hid treachery death contrive
      for neighbor and comrade. His nephew was ever
      by hardy Hygelac held full dear,
      and each kept watch o'er the other's weal.
      I heard, too, the necklace to Hygd he presented,
      wonder-wrought treasure, which Wealhtheow gave him
      sovran's daughter: three steeds he added,
      slender and saddle-gay. Since such gift
      the gem gleamed bright on the breast of the queen.
      Thus showed his strain the son of Ecgtheow
      as a man remarked for mighty deeds
      and acts of honor. At ale he slew not
      comrade or kin; nor cruel his mood,
      though of sons of earth his strength was greatest,
      a glorious gift that God had sent
      the splendid leader. Long was he spurned,
      and worthless by Geatish warriors held;
      him at mead the master-of-clans
      failed full oft to favor at all.
      Slack and shiftless the strong men deemed him,
      profitless prince; but payment came,
      to the warrior honored, for all his woes. --
      Then the bulwark-of-earls[1] bade bring within,
      hardy chieftain, Hrethel's heirloom
      garnished with gold: no Geat e'er knew
      in shape of a sword a statelier prize.
      The brand he laid in Beowulf's lap;
      and of hides assigned him seven thousand,[2]
      with house and high-seat. They held in common
      land alike by their line of birth,
      inheritance, home: but higher the king
      because of his rule o'er the realm itself.

      Now further it fell with the flight of years,
      with harryings horrid, that Hygelac perished,[3]
      and Heardred, too, by hewing of swords
      under the shield-wall slaughtered lay,
      when him at the van of his victor-folk
      sought hardy heroes, Heatho-Scilfings,
      in arms o'erwhelming Hereric's nephew.
      Then Beowulf came as king this broad
      realm to wield; and he ruled it well
      fifty winters,[4] a wise old prince,
      warding his land, until One began
      in the dark of night, a Dragon, to rage.
      In the grave on the hill a hoard it guarded,
      in the stone-barrow steep. A strait path reached it,
      unknown to mortals. Some man, however,
      came by chance that cave within
      to the heathen hoard.[5] In hand he took
      a golden goblet, nor gave he it back,
      stole with it away, while the watcher slept,
      by thievish wiles: for the warden's wrath
      prince and people must pay betimes!

      [1] Hygelac. [2] This is generally assumed to mean hides, though
      the text simply says "seven thousand." A hide in England meant
      about 120 acres, though "the size of the acre varied." [3] On the
      historical raid into Frankish territory between 512 and 520 A.D.
      The subsequent course of events, as gathered from hints of this
      epic, is partly told in Scandinavian legend. [4] The chronology
      of this epic, as scholars have worked it out, would make Beowulf
      well over ninety years of age when he fights the dragon. But the
      fifty years of his reign need not be taken as historical fact.
      [5] The text is here hopelessly illegible, and only the general
      drift of the meaning can be rescued. For one thing, we have the
      old myth of a dragon who guards hidden treasure. But with this
      runs the story of some noble, last of his race, who hides all his
      wealth within this barrow and there chants his farewell to life's
      glories. After his death the dragon takes possession of the hoard
      and watches over it. A condemned or banished man, desperate,
      hides in the barrow, discovers the treasure, and while the dragon
      sleeps, makes off with a golden beaker or the like, and carries
      it for propitiation to his master. The dragon discovers the loss
      and exacts fearful penalty from the people round about.

      XXXII

      THAT way he went with no will of his own,
      in danger of life, to the dragon's hoard,
      but for pressure of peril, some prince's thane.
      He fled in fear the fatal scourge,
      seeking shelter, a sinful man,
      and entered in. At the awful sight
      tottered that guest, and terror seized him;
      yet the wretched fugitive rallied anon
      from fright and fear ere he fled away,
      and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.
      Of such besides there was store enough,
      heirlooms old, the earth below,
      which some earl forgotten, in ancient years,
      left the last of his lofty race,
      heedfully there had hidden away,
      dearest treasure. For death of yore
      had hurried all hence; and he alone
      left to live, the last of the clan,
      weeping his friends, yet wished to bide
      warding the treasure, his one delight,
      though brief his respite. The barrow, new-ready,
      to strand and sea-waves stood anear,
      hard by the headland, hidden and closed;
      there laid within it his lordly heirlooms
      and heaped hoard of heavy gold
      that warden of rings. Few words he spake:
      "Now hold thou, earth, since heroes may not,
      what earls have owned! Lo, erst from thee
      brave men brought it! But battle-death seized
      and cruel killing my clansmen all,
      robbed them of life and a liegeman's joys.
      None have I left to lift the sword,
      or to cleanse the carven cup of price,
      beaker bright. My brave are gone.
      And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold,
      shall part from its plating. Polishers sleep
      who could brighten and burnish the battle-mask;
      and those weeds of war that were wont to brave
      over bicker of shields the bite of steel
      rust with their bearer. The ringed mail
      fares not far with famous chieftain,
      at side of hero! No harp's delight,
      no glee-wood's gladness! No good hawk now
      flies through the hall! Nor horses fleet
      stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death
      the flower of my race have reft away."
      Mournful of mood, thus he moaned his woe,
      alone, for them all, and unblithe wept
      by day and by night, till death's fell wave
      o'erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss
      that old ill-doer open found,
      who, blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth,
      naked foe-dragon flying by night
      folded in fire: the folk of earth
      dread him sore. 'Tis his doom to seek
      hoard in the graves, and heathen gold
      to watch, many-wintered: nor wins he thereby!
      Powerful this plague-of-the-people thus
      held the house of the hoard in earth
      three hundred winters; till One aroused
      wrath in his breast, to the ruler bearing
      that costly cup, and the king implored
      for bond of peace. So the barrow was plundered,
      borne off was booty. His boon was granted
      that wretched man; and his ruler saw
      first time what was fashioned in far-off days.
      When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled.
      O'er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found
      footprint of foe who so far had gone
      in his hidden craft by the creature's head. --
      So may the undoomed easily flee
      evils and exile, if only he gain
      the grace of The Wielder! -- That warden of gold
      o'er the ground went seeking, greedy to find
      the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.
      Savage and burning, the barrow he circled
      all without; nor was any there,
      none in the waste.... Yet war he desired,
      was eager for battle. The barrow he entered,
      sought the cup, and discovered soon
      that some one of mortals had searched his treasure,
      his lordly gold. The guardian waited
      ill-enduring till evening came;
      boiling with wrath was the barrow's keeper,
      and fain with flame the foe to pay
      for the dear cup's loss. -- Now day was fled
      as the worm had wished. By its wall no more
      was it glad to bide, but burning flew
      folded in flame: a fearful beginning
      for sons of the soil; and soon it came,
      in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.

      XXXIII

      THEN the baleful fiend its fire belched out,
      and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high
      all landsfolk frighting. No living thing
      would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.
      Wide was the dragon's warring seen,
      its fiendish fury far and near,
      as the grim destroyer those Geatish people
      hated and hounded. To hidden lair,
      to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.
      Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,
      with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,
      its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!

      To Beowulf then the bale was told
      quickly and truly: the king's own home,
      of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,
      that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old man
      sad in heart, 'twas heaviest sorrow.
      The sage assumed that his sovran God
      he had angered, breaking ancient law,
      and embittered the Lord. His breast within
      with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.
      The folk's own fastness that fiery dragon
      with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all
      washed by waves; but the warlike king,
      prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.
      Warriors'-bulwark, he bade them work
      all of iron -- the earl's commander --
      a war-shield wondrous: well he knew
      that forest-wood against fire were worthless,
      linden could aid not. -- Atheling brave,
      he was fated to finish this fleeting life,[1]
      his days on earth, and the dragon with him,
      though long it had watched o'er the wealth of thehoard! --
      Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,
      to follow the flyer-afar with a host,
      a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,
      nor deemed he dreadful the dragon's warring,
      its vigor and valor: ventures desperate
      he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,
      contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,
      Hrothgar's hall he had wholly purged,
      and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,
      loathsome breed! Not least was that
      of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,
      when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,
      lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,
      son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts died,
      by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fled
      through strength of himself and his swimming power,
      though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty
      coats of mail, when he came to the sea!
      Nor yet might Hetwaras[2] haughtily boast
      their craft of contest, who carried against him
      shields to the fight: but few escaped
      from strife with the hero to seek their homes!
      Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow's son
      lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,
      where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,
      rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught
      the strength of her son to save their kingdom
      from hostile hordes, after Hygelac's death.
      No sooner for this could the stricken ones
      in any wise move that atheling's mind
      over young Heardred's head as lord
      and ruler of all the realm to be:
      yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,
      aided in honor, till, older grown,
      he wielded the Weder-Geats. -- Wandering exiles
      sought him o'er seas, the sons of Ohtere,
      who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings'-helmet,
      the bravest and best that broke the rings,
      in Swedish land, of the sea-kings' line,
      haughty hero.[3] Hence Heardred's end.
      For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,
      the blade's fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;
      but the son of Ongentheow sought again
      house and home when Heardred fell,
      leaving Beowulf lord of Geats
      and gift-seat's master. -- A good king he!

      [1] Literally "loan-days," days loaned to man. [2] Chattuarii, a
      tribe that dwelt along the Rhine, and took part in repelling the
      raid of (Hygelac) Chocilaicus. [3] Onla, son of Ongentheow, who
      pursues his two nephews Eanmund and Eadgils to Heardred's court,
      where they have taken refuge after their unsuccessful rebellion.
      In the fighting Heardred is killed.

      XXXIV

      THE fall of his lord he was fain to requite
      in after days; and to Eadgils he proved
      friend to the friendless, and forces sent
      over the sea to the son of Ohtere,
      weapons and warriors: well repaid he
      those care-paths cold when the king he slew.[1]
      Thus safe through struggles the son of Ecgtheow
      had passed a plenty, through perils dire,
      with daring deeds, till this day was come
      that doomed him now with the dragon to strive.
      With comrades eleven the lord of Geats
      swollen in rage went seeking the dragon.
      He had heard whence all the harm arose
      and the killing of clansmen; that cup of price
      on the lap of the lord had been laid by the finder.
      In the throng was this one thirteenth man,
      starter of all the strife and ill,
      care-laden captive; cringing thence
      forced and reluctant, he led them on
      till he came in ken of that cavern-hall,
      the barrow delved near billowy surges,
      flood of ocean. Within 'twas full
      of wire-gold and jewels; a jealous warden,
      warrior trusty, the treasures held,
      lurked in his lair. Not light the task
      of entrance for any of earth-born men!
      Sat on the headland the hero king,
      spake words of hail to his hearth-companions,
      gold-friend of Geats. All gloomy his soul,
      wavering, death-bound. Wyrd full nigh
      stood ready to greet the gray-haired man,
      to seize his soul-hoard, sunder apart
      life and body. Not long would be
      the warrior's spirit enwound with flesh.
      Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow: --
      "Through store of struggles I strove in youth,
      mighty feuds; I mind them all.
      I was seven years old when the sovran of rings,
      friend-of-his-folk, from my father took me,
      had me, and held me, Hrethel the king,
      with food and fee, faithful in kinship.
      Ne'er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,
      bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,
      Herebeald and Haethcyn and Hygelac mine.
      For the eldest of these, by unmeet chance,
      by kinsman's deed, was the death-bed strewn,
      when Haethcyn killed him with horny bow,
      his own dear liege laid low with an arrow,
      missed the mark and his mate shot down,
      one brother the other, with bloody shaft.
      A feeless fight,[2] and a fearful sin,
      horror to Hrethel; yet, hard as it was,
      unavenged must the atheling die!
      Too awful it is for an aged man
      to bide and bear, that his bairn so young
      rides on the gallows. A rime he makes,
      sorrow-song for his son there hanging
      as rapture of ravens; no rescue now
      can come from the old, disabled man!
      Still is he minded, as morning breaks,
      of the heir gone elsewhere;[3] another he hopes not
      he will bide to see his burg within
      as ward for his wealth, now the one has found
      doom of death that the deed incurred.
      Forlorn he looks on the lodge of his son,
      wine-hall waste and wind-swept chambers
      reft of revel. The rider sleepeth,
      the hero, far-hidden;[4] no harp resounds,
      in the courts no wassail, as once was heard.

      [1] That is, Beowulf supports Eadgils against Onela, who is slain
      by Eadgils in revenge for the "care-paths" of exile into which
      Onela forced him. [2] That is, the king could claim no wergild,
      or man-price, from one son for the killing of the other. [3]
      Usual euphemism for death. [4] Sc. in the grave.

      XXXV

      "THEN he goes to his chamber, a grief-song chants
      alone for his lost. Too large all seems,
      homestead and house. So the helmet-of-Weders
      hid in his heart for Herebeald
      waves of woe. No way could he take
      to avenge on the slayer slaughter so foul;
      nor e'en could he harass that hero at all
      with loathing deed, though he loved him not.
      And so for the sorrow his soul endured,
      men's gladness he gave up and God's light chose.
      Lands and cities he left his sons
      (as the wealthy do) when he went from earth.
      There was strife and struggle 'twixt Swede and Geat
      o'er the width of waters; war arose,
      hard battle-horror, when Hrethel died,
      and Ongentheow's offspring grew
      strife-keen, bold, nor brooked o'er the seas
      pact of peace, but pushed their hosts
      to harass in hatred by Hreosnabeorh.
      Men of my folk for that feud had vengeance,
      for woful war ('tis widely known),
      though one of them bought it with blood of his heart,
      a bargain hard: for Haethcyn proved
      fatal that fray, for the first-of-Geats.
      At morn, I heard, was the murderer killed
      by kinsman for kinsman,[1] with clash of sword,
      when Ongentheow met Eofor there.
      Wide split the war-helm: wan he fell,
      hoary Scylfing; the hand that smote him
      of feud was mindful, nor flinched from the death-blow.
      -- "For all that he[2] gave me, my gleaming sword
      repaid him at war, -- such power I wielded, --
      for lordly treasure: with land he entrusted me,
      homestead and house. He had no need
      from Swedish realm, or from Spear-Dane folk,
      or from men of the Gifths, to get him help, --
      some warrior worse for wage to buy!
      Ever I fought in the front of all,
      sole to the fore; and so shall I fight
      while I bide in life and this blade shall last
      that early and late hath loyal proved
      since for my doughtiness Daeghrefn fell,
      slain by my hand, the Hugas' champion.
      Nor fared he thence to the Frisian king
      with the booty back, and breast-adornments;
      but, slain in struggle, that standard-bearer
      fell, atheling brave. Not with blade was he slain,
      but his bones were broken by brawny gripe,
      his heart-waves stilled. -- The sword-edge now,
      hard blade and my hand, for the hoard shall strive."
      Beowulf spake, and a battle-vow made
      his last of all: "I have lived through many
      wars in my youth; now once again,
      old folk-defender, feud will I seek,
      do doughty deeds, if the dark destroyer
      forth from his cavern come to fight me!"
      Then hailed he the helmeted heroes all,
      for the last time greeting his liegemen dear,
      comrades of war: "I should carry no weapon,
      no sword to the serpent, if sure I knew
      how, with such enemy, else my vows
      I could gain as I did in Grendel's day.
      But fire in this fight I must fear me now,
      and poisonous breath; so I bring with me
      breastplate and board.[3] From the barrow's keeper
      no footbreadth flee I. One fight shall end
      our war by the wall, as Wyrd allots,
      all mankind's master. My mood is bold
      but forbears to boast o'er this battling-flyer.
      -- Now abide by the barrow, ye breastplate-mailed,
      ye heroes in harness, which of us twain
      better from battle-rush bear his wounds.
      Wait ye the finish. The fight is not yours,
      nor meet for any but me alone
      to measure might with this monster here
      and play the hero. Hardily I
      shall win that wealth, or war shall seize,
      cruel killing, your king and lord!"
      Up stood then with shield the sturdy champion,
      stayed by the strength of his single manhood,
      and hardy 'neath helmet his harness bore
      under cleft of the cliffs: no coward's path!
      Soon spied by the wall that warrior chief,
      survivor of many a victory-field
      where foemen fought with furious clashings,
      an arch of stone; and within, a stream
      that broke from the barrow. The brooklet's wave
      was hot with fire. The hoard that way
      he never could hope unharmed to near,
      or endure those deeps,[4] for the dragon's flame.
      Then let from his breast, for he burst with rage,
      the Weder-Geat prince a word outgo;
      stormed the stark-heart; stern went ringing
      and clear his cry 'neath the cliff-rocks gray.
      The hoard-guard heard a human voice;
      his rage was enkindled. No respite now
      for pact of peace! The poison-breath
      of that foul worm first came forth from the cave,
      hot reek-of-fight: the rocks resounded.
      Stout by the stone-way his shield he raised,
      lord of the Geats, against the loathed-one;
      while with courage keen that coiled foe
      came seeking strife. The sturdy king
      had drawn his sword, not dull of edge,
      heirloom old; and each of the two
      felt fear of his foe, though fierce their mood.
      Stoutly stood with his shield high-raised
      the warrior king, as the worm now coiled
      together amain: the mailed-one waited.
      Now, spire by spire, fast sped and glided
      that blazing serpent. The shield protected,
      soul and body a shorter while
      for the hero-king than his heart desired,
      could his will have wielded the welcome respite
      but once in his life! But Wyrd denied it,
      and victory's honors. -- His arm he lifted
      lord of the Geats, the grim foe smote
      with atheling's heirloom. Its edge was turned
      brown blade, on the bone, and bit more feebly
      than its noble master had need of then
      in his baleful stress. -- Then the barrow's keeper
      waxed full wild for that weighty blow,
      cast deadly flames; wide drove and far
      those vicious fires. No victor's glory
      the Geats' lord boasted; his brand had failed,
      naked in battle, as never it should,
      excellent iron! -- 'Twas no easy path
      that Ecgtheow's honored heir must tread
      over the plain to the place of the foe;
      for against his will he must win a home
      elsewhere far, as must all men, leaving
      this lapsing life! -- Not long it was
      ere those champions grimly closed again.
      The hoard-guard was heartened; high heaved hisbreast
      once more; and by peril was pressed again,
      enfolded in flames, the folk-commander!
      Nor yet about him his band of comrades,
      sons of athelings, armed stood
      with warlike front: to the woods they bent them,
      their lives to save. But the soul of one
      with care was cumbered. Kinship true
      can never be marred in a noble mind!

      [1] Eofor for Wulf. -- The immediate provocation for Eofor in
      killing "the hoary Scylfing," Ongentheow, is that the latter has
      just struck Wulf down; but the king, Haethcyn, is also avenged by
      the blow. See the detailed description below. [2] Hygelac. [3]
      Shield. [4] The hollow passage.

      XXXVI

      WIGLAF his name was, Weohstan's son,
      linden-thane loved, the lord of Scylfings,
      Aelfhere's kinsman. His king he now saw
      with heat under helmet hard oppressed.
      He minded the prizes his prince had given him,
      wealthy seat of the Waegmunding line,
      and folk-rights that his father owned
      Not long he lingered. The linden yellow,
      his shield, he seized; the old sword he drew: --
      as heirloom of Eanmund earth-dwellers knew it,
      who was slain by the sword-edge, son of Ohtere,
      friendless exile, erst in fray
      killed by Weohstan, who won for his kin
      brown-bright helmet, breastplate ringed,
      old sword of Eotens, Onela's gift,
      weeds of war of the warrior-thane,
      battle-gear brave: though a brother's child
      had been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onela.[1]
      For winters this war-gear Weohstan kept,
      breastplate and board, till his bairn had grown
      earlship to earn as the old sire did:
      then he gave him, mid Geats, the gear of battle,
      portion huge, when he passed from life,
      fared aged forth. For the first time now
      with his leader-lord the liegeman young
      was bidden to share the shock of battle.
      Neither softened his soul, nor the sire's bequest
      weakened in war.[2] So the worm found out
      when once in fight the foes had met!
      Wiglaf spake, -- and his words were sage;
      sad in spirit, he said to his comrades: --
      "I remember the time, when mead we took,
      what promise we made to this prince of ours
      in the banquet-hall, to our breaker-of-rings,
      for gear of combat to give him requital,
      for hard-sword and helmet, if hap should bring
      stress of this sort! Himself who chose us
      from all his army to aid him now,
      urged us to glory, and gave these treasures,
      because he counted us keen with the spear
      and hardy 'neath helm, though this hero-work
      our leader hoped unhelped and alone
      to finish for us, -- folk-defender
      who hath got him glory greater than all men
      for daring deeds! Now the day is come
      that our noble master has need of the might
      of warriors stout. Let us stride along
      the hero to help while the heat is about him
      glowing and grim! For God is my witness
      I am far more fain the fire should seize
      along with my lord these limbs of mine![3]
      Unsuiting it seems our shields to bear
      homeward hence, save here we essay
      to fell the foe and defend the life
      of the Weders' lord. I wot 'twere shame
      on the law of our land if alone the king
      out of Geatish warriors woe endured
      and sank in the struggle! My sword and helmet,
      breastplate and board, for us both shall serve!"
      Through slaughter-reek strode he to succor his chieftain,
      his battle-helm bore, and brief words spake: --
      "Beowulf dearest, do all bravely,
      as in youthful days of yore thou vowedst
      that while life should last thou wouldst let no wise
      thy glory droop! Now, great in deeds,
      atheling steadfast, with all thy strength
      shield thy life! I will stand to help thee."
      At the words the worm came once again,
      murderous monster mad with rage,
      with fire-billows flaming, its foes to seek,
      the hated men. In heat-waves burned
      that board[4] to the boss, and the breastplate failed
      to shelter at all the spear-thane young.
      Yet quickly under his kinsman's shield
      went eager the earl, since his own was now
      all burned by the blaze. The bold king again
      had mind of his glory: with might his glaive
      was driven into the dragon's head, --
      blow nerved by hate. But Naegling[5] was shivered,
      broken in battle was Beowulf's sword,
      old and gray. 'Twas granted him not
      that ever the edge of iron at all
      could help him at strife: too strong was his hand,
      so the tale is told, and he tried too far
      with strength of stroke all swords he wielded,
      though sturdy their steel: they steaded him nought.
      Then for the third time thought on its feud
      that folk-destroyer, fire-dread dragon,
      and rushed on the hero, where room allowed,
      battle-grim, burning; its bitter teeth
      closed on his neck, and covered him
      with waves of blood from his breast that welled.

      [1] That is, although Eanmund was brother's son to Onela, the
      slaying of the former by Weohstan is not felt as cause of feud,
      and is rewarded by gift of the slain man's weapons. [2] Both
      Wiglaf and the sword did their duty. -- The following is one of
      the classic passages for illustrating the comitatus as the most
      conspicuous Germanic institution, and its underlying sense of
      duty, based partly on the idea of loyalty and partly on the
      practical basis of benefits received and repaid. [3] Sc. "than to
      bide safely here," -- a common figure of incomplete comparison.
      [4] Wiglaf's wooden shield. [5] Gering would translate "kinsman
      of the nail," as both are made of iron.

      XXXVII

      'TWAS now, men say, in his sovran's need
      that the earl made known his noble strain,
      craft and keenness and courage enduring.
      Heedless of harm, though his hand was burned,
      hardy-hearted, he helped his kinsman.
      A little lower the loathsome beast
      he smote with sword; his steel drove in
      bright and burnished; that blaze began
      to lose and lessen. At last the king
      wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,
      a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,
      and the Weders'-helm smote that worm asunder,
      felled the foe, flung forth its life.
      So had they killed it, kinsmen both,
      athelings twain: thus an earl should be
      in danger's day! -- Of deeds of valor
      this conqueror's-hour of the king was last,
      of his work in the world. The wound began,
      which that dragon-of-earth had erst inflicted,
      to swell and smart; and soon he found
      in his breast was boiling, baleful and deep,
      pain of poison. The prince walked on,
      wise in his thought, to the wall of rock;
      then sat, and stared at the structure of giants,
      where arch of stone and steadfast column
      upheld forever that hall in earth.
      Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless
      lave with water his winsome lord,
      the king and conqueror covered with blood,
      with struggle spent, and unspan his helmet.
      Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt,
      his mortal wound; full well he knew
      his portion now was past and gone
      of earthly bliss, and all had fled
      of his file of days, and death was near:
      "I would fain bestow on son of mine
      this gear of war, were given me now
      that any heir should after me come
      of my proper blood. This people I ruled
      fifty winters. No folk-king was there,
      none at all, of the neighboring clans
      who war would wage me with 'warriors'-friends'[1]
      and threat me with horrors. At home I bided
      what fate might come, and I cared for mine own;
      feuds I sought not, nor falsely swore
      ever on oath. For all these things,
      though fatally wounded, fain am I!
      From the Ruler-of-Man no wrath shall seize me,
      when life from my frame must flee away,
      for killing of kinsmen! Now quickly go
      and gaze on that hoard 'neath the hoary rock,
      Wiglaf loved, now the worm lies low,
      sleeps, heart-sore, of his spoil bereaved.
      And fare in haste. I would fain behold
      the gorgeous heirlooms, golden store,
      have joy in the jewels and gems, lay down
      softlier for sight of this splendid hoard
      my life and the lordship I long have held."

      [1] That is, swords.

      XXXVIII

      I HAVE heard that swiftly the son of Weohstan
      at wish and word of his wounded king, --
      war-sick warrior, -- woven mail-coat,
      battle-sark, bore 'neath the barrow's roof.
      Then the clansman keen, of conquest proud,
      passing the seat,[1] saw store of jewels
      and glistening gold the ground along;
      by the wall were marvels, and many a vessel
      in the den of the dragon, the dawn-flier old:
      unburnished bowls of bygone men
      reft of richness; rusty helms
      of the olden age; and arm-rings many
      wondrously woven. -- Such wealth of gold,
      booty from barrow, can burden with pride
      each human wight: let him hide it who will! --
      His glance too fell on a gold-wove banner
      high o'er the hoard, of handiwork noblest,
      brilliantly broidered; so bright its gleam,
      all the earth-floor he easily saw
      and viewed all these vessels. No vestige now
      was seen of the serpent: the sword had ta'en him.
      Then, I heard, the hill of its hoard was reft,
      old work of giants, by one alone;
      he burdened his bosom with beakers and plate
      at his own good will, and the ensign took,
      brightest of beacons. -- The blade of his lord
      -- its edge was iron -- had injured deep
      one that guarded the golden hoard
      many a year and its murder-fire
      spread hot round the barrow in horror-billows
      at midnight hour, till it met its doom.
      Hasted the herald, the hoard so spurred him
      his track to retrace; he was troubled by doubt,
      high-souled hero, if haply he'd find
      alive, where he left him, the lord of Weders,
      weakening fast by the wall of the cave.
      So he carried the load. His lord and king
      he found all bleeding, famous chief
      at the lapse of life. The liegeman again
      plashed him with water, till point of word
      broke through the breast-hoard. Beowulf spake,
      sage and sad, as he stared at the gold. --
      "For the gold and treasure, to God my thanks,
      to the Wielder-of-Wonders, with words I say,
      for what I behold, to Heaven's Lord,
      for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk
      or ever the day of my death be run!
      Now I've bartered here for booty of treasure
      the last of my life, so look ye well
      to the needs of my land! No longer I tarry.
      A barrow bid ye the battle-fanned raise
      for my ashes. 'Twill shine by the shore of the flood,
      to folk of mine memorial fair
      on Hrones Headland high uplifted,
      that ocean-wanderers oft may hail
      Beowulf's Barrow, as back from far
      they drive their keels o'er the darkling wave."
      From his neck he unclasped the collar of gold,
      valorous king, to his vassal gave it
      with bright-gold helmet, breastplate, and ring,
      to the youthful thane: bade him use them in joy.
      "Thou art end and remnant of all our race
      the Waegmunding name. For Wyrd hath swept them,
      all my line, to the land of doom,
      earls in their glory: I after them go."
      This word was the last which the wise old man
      harbored in heart ere hot death-waves
      of balefire he chose. From his bosom fled
      his soul to seek the saints' reward.

      [1] Where Beowulf lay.

      XXXIX

      IT was heavy hap for that hero young
      on his lord beloved to look and find him
      lying on earth with life at end,
      sorrowful sight. But the slayer too,
      awful earth-dragon, empty of breath,
      lay felled in fight, nor, fain of its treasure,
      could the writhing monster rule it more.
      For edges of iron had ended its days,
      hard and battle-sharp, hammers' leaving;[1]
      and that flier-afar had fallen to ground
      hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near,
      no longer lusty aloft to whirl
      at midnight, making its merriment seen,
      proud of its prizes: prone it sank
      by the handiwork of the hero-king.
      Forsooth among folk but few achieve,
      -- though sturdy and strong, as stories tell me,
      and never so daring in deed of valor, --
      the perilous breath of a poison-foe
      to brave, and to rush on the ring-board hall,
      whenever his watch the warden keeps
      bold in the barrow. Beowulf paid
      the price of death for that precious hoard;
      and each of the foes had found the end
      of this fleeting life.
      Befell erelong
      that the laggards in war the wood had left,
      trothbreakers, cowards, ten together,
      fearing before to flourish a spear
      in the sore distress of their sovran lord.
      Now in their shame their shields they carried,
      armor of fight, where the old man lay;
      and they gazed on Wiglaf. Wearied he sat
      at his sovran's shoulder, shieldsman good,
      to wake him with water.[2] Nowise it availed.
      Though well he wished it, in world no more
      could he barrier life for that leader-of-battles
      nor baffle the will of all-wielding God.
      Doom of the Lord was law o'er the deeds
      of every man, as it is to-day.
      Grim was the answer, easy to get,
      from the youth for those that had yielded to fear!
      Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan, --
      mournful he looked on those men unloved: --
      "Who sooth will speak, can say indeed
      that the ruler who gave you golden rings
      and the harness of war in which ye stand
      -- for he at ale-bench often-times
      bestowed on hall-folk helm and breastplate,
      lord to liegemen, the likeliest gear
      which near of far he could find to give, --
      threw away and wasted these weeds of battle,
      on men who failed when the foemen came!
      Not at all could the king of his comrades-in-arms
      venture to vaunt, though the Victory-Wielder,
      God, gave him grace that he got revenge
      sole with his sword in stress and need.
      To rescue his life, 'twas little that I
      could serve him in struggle; yet shift I made
      (hopeless it seemed) to help my kinsman.
      Its strength ever waned, when with weapon I struck
      that fatal foe, and the fire less strongly
      flowed from its head. -- Too few the heroes
      in throe of contest that thronged to our king!
      Now gift of treasure and girding of sword,
      joy of the house and home-delight
      shall fail your folk; his freehold-land
      every clansman within your kin
      shall lose and leave, when lords highborn
      hear afar of that flight of yours,
      a fameless deed. Yea, death is better
      for liegemen all than a life of shame!"

      [1] What had been left or made by the hammer; well-forged. [2]
      Trying to revive him.

      XL

      THAT battle-toil bade he at burg to announce,
      at the fort on the cliff, where, full of sorrow,
      all the morning earls had sat,
      daring shieldsmen, in doubt of twain:
      would they wail as dead, or welcome home,
      their lord beloved? Little[1] kept back
      of the tidings new, but told them all,
      the herald that up the headland rode. --
      "Now the willing-giver to Weder folk
      in death-bed lies; the Lord of Geats
      on the slaughter-bed sleeps by the serpent's deed!
      And beside him is stretched that slayer-of-men
      with knife-wounds sick:[2] no sword availed
      on the awesome thing in any wise
      to work a wound. There Wiglaf sitteth,
      Weohstan's bairn, by Beowulf's side,
      the living earl by the other dead,
      and heavy of heart a head-watch[3] keeps
      o'er friend and foe. -- Now our folk may look
      for waging of war when once unhidden
      to Frisian and Frank the fall of the king
      is spread afar. -- The strife began
      when hot on the Hugas[4] Hygelac fell
      and fared with his fleet to the Frisian land.
      Him there the Hetwaras humbled in war,
      plied with such prowess their power o'erwhelming
      that the bold-in-battle bowed beneath it
      and fell in fight. To his friends no wise
      could that earl give treasure! And ever since
      the Merowings' favor has failed us wholly.
      Nor aught expect I of peace and faith
      from Swedish folk. 'Twas spread afar
      how Ongentheow reft at Ravenswood
      Haethcyn Hrethling of hope and life,
      when the folk of Geats for the first time sought
      in wanton pride the Warlike-Scylfings.
      Soon the sage old sire[5] of Ohtere,
      ancient and awful, gave answering blow;
      the sea-king[6] he slew, and his spouse redeemed,
      his good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold,
      mother of Ohtere and Onela.
      Then he followed his foes, who fled before him
      sore beset and stole their way,
      bereft of a ruler, to Ravenswood.

      With his host he besieged there what swords had left,
      the weary and wounded; woes he threatened
      the whole night through to that hard-pressed throng:
      some with the morrow his sword should kill,
      some should go to the gallows-tree
      for rapture of ravens. But rescue came
      with dawn of day for those desperate men
      when they heard the horn of Hygelac sound,
      tones of his trumpet; the trusty king
      had followed their trail with faithful band.

      [1] Nothing. [2] Dead. [3] Death-watch, guard of honor,
      "lyke-wake." [4] A name for the Franks. [5] Ongentheow. [6]
      Haethcyn.

      XLI

      "THE bloody swath of Swedes and Geats
      and the storm of their strife, were seen afar,
      how folk against folk the fight had wakened.
      The ancient king with his atheling band
      sought his citadel, sorrowing much:
      Ongentheow earl went up to his burg.
      He had tested Hygelac's hardihood,
      the proud one's prowess, would prove it no longer,
      defied no more those fighting-wanderers
      nor hoped from the seamen to save his hoard,
      his bairn and his bride: so he bent him again,
      old, to his earth-walls. Yet after him came
      with slaughter for Swedes the standards of Hygelac
      o'er peaceful plains in pride advancing,
      till Hrethelings fought in the fenced town.[1]
      Then Ongentheow with edge of sword,
      the hoary-bearded, was held at bay,
      and the folk-king there was forced to suffer
      Eofor's anger. In ire, at the king
      Wulf Wonreding with weapon struck;
      and the chieftain's blood, for that blow, in streams
      flowed 'neath his hair. No fear felt he,
      stout old Scylfing, but straightway repaid
      in better bargain that bitter stroke
      and faced his foe with fell intent.
      Nor swift enough was the son of Wonred
      answer to render the aged chief;
      too soon on his head the helm was cloven;
      blood-bedecked he bowed to earth,
      and fell adown; not doomed was he yet,
      and well he waxed, though the wound was sore.
      Then the hardy Hygelac-thane,[2]
      when his brother fell, with broad brand smote,
      giants' sword crashing through giants'-helm
      across the shield-wall: sank the king,
      his folk's old herdsman, fatally hurt.
      There were many to bind the brother's wounds
      and lift him, fast as fate allowed
      his people to wield the place-of-war.
      But Eofor took from Ongentheow,
      earl from other, the iron-breastplate,
      hard sword hilted, and helmet too,
      and the hoar-chief's harness to Hygelac carried,
      who took the trappings, and truly promised
      rich fee 'mid folk, -- and fulfilled it so.
      For that grim strife gave the Geatish lord,
      Hrethel's offspring, when home he came,
      to Eofor and Wulf a wealth of treasure,
      Each of them had a hundred thousand[3]
      in land and linked rings; nor at less price reckoned
      mid-earth men such mighty deeds!
      And to Eofor he gave his only daughter
      in pledge of grace, the pride of his home.

      "Such is the feud, the foeman's rage,
      death-hate of men: so I deem it sure
      that the Swedish folk will seek us home
      for this fall of their friends, the fighting-Scylfings,
      when once they learn that our warrior leader
      lifeless lies, who land and hoard
      ever defended from all his foes,
      furthered his folk's weal, finished his course
      a hardy hero. -- Now haste is best,
      that we go to gaze on our Geatish lord,
      and bear the bountiful breaker-of-rings
      to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely
      shall burn with the warrior. Wealth of jewels,
      gold untold and gained in terror,
      treasure at last with his life obtained,
      all of that booty the brands shall take,
      fire shall eat it. No earl must carry
      memorial jewel. No maiden fair
      shall wreathe her neck with noble ring:
      nay, sad in spirit and shorn of her gold,
      oft shall she pass o'er paths of exile
      now our lord all laughter has laid aside,
      all mirth and revel. Many a spear
      morning-cold shall be clasped amain,
      lifted aloft; nor shall lilt of harp
      those warriors wake; but the wan-hued raven,
      fain o'er the fallen, his feast shall praise
      and boast to the eagle how bravely he ate
      when he and the wolf were wasting the slain."

      So he told his sorrowful tidings,
      and little[4] he lied, the loyal man
      of word or of work. The warriors rose;
      sad, they climbed to the Cliff-of-Eagles,
      went, welling with tears, the wonder to view.
      Found on the sand there, stretched at rest,
      their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings
      of old upon them. Ending-day
      had dawned on the doughty-one; death had seized
      in woful slaughter the Weders' king.
      There saw they, besides, the strangest being,
      loathsome, lying their leader near,
      prone on the field. The fiery dragon,
      fearful fiend, with flame was scorched.
      Reckoned by feet, it was fifty measures
      in length as it lay. Aloft erewhile
      it had revelled by night, and anon come back,
      seeking its den; now in death's sure clutch
      it had come to the end of its earth-hall joys.
      By it there stood the stoups and jars;
      dishes lay there, and dear-decked swords
      eaten with rust, as, on earth's lap resting,
      a thousand winters they waited there.
      For all that heritage huge, that gold
      of bygone men, was bound by a spell,[5]
      so the treasure-hall could be touched by none
      of human kind, -- save that Heaven's King,
      God himself, might give whom he would,
      Helper of Heroes, the hoard to open, --
      even such a man as seemed to him meet.

      [1] The line may mean: till Hrethelings stormed on the hedged
      shields, -- i.e. the shield-wall or hedge of defensive war --
      Hrethelings, of course, are Geats. [2] Eofor, brother to Wulf
      Wonreding. [3] Sc. "value in" hides and the weight of the gold.
      [4] Not at all. [5] Laid on it when it was put in the barrow.
      This spell, or in our days the "curse," either prevented
      discovery or brought dire ills on the finder and taker.

      XLII

      A PERILOUS path, it proved, he[1] trod
      who heinously hid, that hall within,
      wealth under wall! Its watcher had killed
      one of a few,[2] and the feud was avenged
      in woful fashion. Wondrous seems it,
      what manner a man of might and valor
      oft ends his life, when the earl no longer
      in mead-hall may live with loving friends.
      So Beowulf, when that barrow's warden
      he sought, and the struggle; himself knew not
      in what wise he should wend from the world at last.
      For[3] princes potent, who placed the gold,
      with a curse to doomsday covered it deep,
      so that marked with sin the man should be,
      hedged with horrors, in hell-bonds fast,
      racked with plagues, who should rob their hoard.
      Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of heaven,
      ever the king had kept in view.[4]
      Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan: --
      "At the mandate of one, oft warriors many
      sorrow must suffer; and so must we.
      The people's-shepherd showed not aught
      of care for our counsel, king beloved!
      That guardian of gold he should grapple not, urged we,
      but let him lie where he long had been
      in his earth-hall waiting the end of the world,
      the hest of heaven. -- This hoard is ours
      but grievously gotten; too grim the fate
      which thither carried our king and lord.
      I was within there, and all I viewed,
      the chambered treasure, when chance allowed me
      (and my path was made in no pleasant wise)
      under the earth-wall. Eager, I seized
      such heap from the hoard as hands could bear
      and hurriedly carried it hither back
      to my liege and lord. Alive was he still,
      still wielding his wits. The wise old man
      spake much in his sorrow, and sent you greetings
      and bade that ye build, when he breathed no more,
      on the place of his balefire a barrow high,
      memorial mighty. Of men was he
      worthiest warrior wide earth o'er
      the while he had joy of his jewels and burg.
      Let us set out in haste now, the second time
      to see and search this store of treasure,
      these wall-hid wonders, -- the way I show you, --
      where, gathered near, ye may gaze your fill
      at broad-gold and rings. Let the bier, soon made,
      be all in order when out we come,
      our king and captain to carry thither
      -- man beloved -- where long he shall bide
      safe in the shelter of sovran God."
      Then the bairn of Weohstan bade command,
      hardy chief, to heroes many
      that owned their homesteads, hither to bring
      firewood from far -- o'er the folk they ruled --
      for the famed-one's funeral. " Fire shall devour
      and wan flames feed on the fearless warrior
      who oft stood stout in the iron-shower,
      when, sped from the string, a storm of arrows
      shot o'er the shield-wall: the shaft held firm,
      featly feathered, followed the barb."
      And now the sage young son of Weohstan
      seven chose of the chieftain's thanes,
      the best he found that band within,
      and went with these warriors, one of eight,
      under hostile roof. In hand one bore
      a lighted torch and led the way.
      No lots they cast for keeping the hoard
      when once the warriors saw it in hall,
      altogether without a guardian,
      lying there lost. And little they mourned
      when they had hastily haled it out,
      dear-bought treasure! The dragon they cast,
      the worm, o'er the wall for the wave to take,
      and surges swallowed that shepherd of gems.
      Then the woven gold on a wain was laden --
      countless quite! -- and the king was borne,
      hoary hero, to Hrones-Ness.

      [1] Probably the fugitive is meant who discovered the hoard. Ten
      Brink and Gering assume that the dragon is meant. "Hid" may well
      mean here "took while in hiding." [2] That is "one and a few
      others." But Beowulf seems to be indicated. [3] Ten Brink points
      out the strongly heathen character of this part of the epic.
      Beowulf's end came, so the old tradition ran, from his unwitting
      interference with spell-bound treasure. [4] A hard saying,
      variously interpreted. In any case, it is the somewhat clumsy
      effort of the Christian poet to tone down the heathenism of his
      material by an edifying observation.

      XLIII

      THEN fashioned for him the folk of Geats
      firm on the earth a funeral-pile,
      and hung it with helmets and harness of war
      and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;
      and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,
      heroes mourning their master dear.
      Then on the hill that hugest of balefires
      the warriors wakened. Wood-smoke rose
      black over blaze, and blent was the roar
      of flame with weeping (the wind was still),
      till the fire had broken the frame of bones,
      hot at the heart. In heavy mood
      their misery moaned they, their master's death.
      Wailing her woe, the widow[1] old,
      her hair upbound, for Beowulf's death
      sung in her sorrow, and said full oft
      she dreaded the doleful days to come,
      deaths enow, and doom of battle,
      and shame. -- The smoke by the sky was devoured.
      The folk of the Weders fashioned there
      on the headland a barrow broad and high,
      by ocean-farers far descried:
      in ten days' time their toil had raised it,
      the battle-brave's beacon. Round brands of the pyre
      a wall they built, the worthiest ever
      that wit could prompt in their wisest men.
      They placed in the barrow that precious booty,
      the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile,
      hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, --
      trusting the ground with treasure of earls,
      gold in the earth, where ever it lies
      useless to men as of yore it was.
      Then about that barrow the battle-keen rode,
      atheling-born, a band of twelve,
      lament to make, to mourn their king,
      chant their dirge, and their chieftain honor.
      They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess
      worthily witnessed: and well it is
      that men their master-friend mightily laud,
      heartily love, when hence he goes
      from life in the body forlorn away.

      Thus made their mourning the men of Geatland,
      for their hero's passing his hearth-companions:
      quoth that of all the kings of earth,
      of men he was mildest and most beloved,
      to his kin the kindest, keenest for praise.

      [1] Nothing is said of Beowulf's wife in the poem, but Bugge
      surmises that Beowulf finally accepted Hygd's offer of kingdom
      and hoard, and, as was usual, took her into the bargain.

Beowulf (in Old English)

1-21
HWÆT, WE GAR-DEna in geardagum,
þeodcyninga þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon!
oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum,
monegum mægþum meodosetla ofteah,
egsode eorlas, syððanærest wearð
feasceaft funden; he þæs frofre gebad,
weox under wolcnum weorðmyndum þah,
oð þæt him æghwylc ymbsittendra
ofer hronrade hyran scolde,
gomban gyldan; þæt wæs god cyning!
Ðæm eafera wæs æfter cenned
geong in geardum, þone God sende
folce to frofre; fyrenðearfe ongeat,
þe hie ær drugon aldorlease
lange hwile; him þæs Liffrea,
wuldres Wealdend woroldare forgeaf,
Beowulf wæs breme --- blæd wide sprang---
Scyldes eafera Scedelandum in.
Swa sceal geong guma gode gewyrcean,
fromum feohgiftumon fæder bearme,

22-46
þæt hine on ylde eft gewunigen
wilgesiþas, þonne wig cume,
leode gelæsten; lofdædum sceal
in mægþa gehwære man geþeon.
Him ða Scyld gewat to gescæphwile
felahror feran on Frean wære;
hi hyne þa ætbæron to brimes faroðe,
swæse gesiþas, swa he selfa bæd,
þendenwordum weold wine Scyldinga---
leof landfruma lange ahte.
Þær æt hyðe stod hringedstefna
isig ond utfus, æþelingesfær;
aledon þa leofne þeoden,
beaga bryttan on bearm scipes,
mærne be mæste. Þær wæs madma fela
of feorwegum frætwa gelæded;
ne hyrde ic cymlicor ceol gegyrwan
hildewæpnum ond heaðowædum,
billum ond byrnum;him on bearme læg
madma mænigo, þa him mid scoldon
on flodes æht feor gewitan.
Nalæs hi hine læssan lacum teodan,
þeodgestreonum, þon þa dydon,
þe hine æt frumsceafte forð onsendon
ænne ofer yðe umborwesende.

47-68
Þa gyt hie him asetton segen gyldenne
heah ofer heafod, leton holm beran,
geafon on garsecg; him wæs geomor sefa,
murnende mod. Men ne cunnon
secgan to soðe, selerædende,
hæleð under heofenum, hwa þæm hlæste onfeng.
I Ða wæs on burgum Beowulf Scyldinga,
leof leodcyning longe þrage
folcum gefræge --- fæder ellor hwearf,
aldor of earde--- , oþ þæt him eft onwoc
heah Healfdene; heold þenden lifde
gamol ond guðreouw glæde Scyldingas.
Ðæm feower bearn forðgerimed
in worold wocun, weoroda ræswan,
Heorogar ond Hroðgar ond Halga til,
hyrde ic þæt . . . . . . wæs Onelan cwen,
Heaðo-Scilfingas healsgebedda.
Þa wæs Hroðgare heresped gyfen,
wiges weorðmynd, þæt him his winemgas
georne hyrdon, oðð þæt seo geogoð geweox,
magodriht micel. Him on mod bearn,
þæt healreced hatan wolde,

69-91
medoærn micel men gewyrcean
þonne yldo bearn æfre gefrunon,
ond þær on innan eall gedælan
geongum ond ealdum, swylc him God sealde
buton folcscare ond feorum gumena.
Ða ic wide gefrægn weorc gebannan
manigre mægþe geond þisne middangeard,
folcstede frætwan. Him on fyrste gelomp,
ædre mid yldum, þæt hit wearð ealgearo,
healærna mæst; scop him Heort naman
se þe his wordes geweald wide hæfde.
He beot ne aleh, beagas dælde,
sinc æt symle. Sele hlifade,
heah ond horngeap; heaðowylma bad,
laðan liges; ne wæs hit lenge þa gen,
þæt se ecghete aþumsweorum,
æfter wælniðe wæcnan scolde.
Ða se ellengæst earfoðlice
þrage geþolode, se þe in þystrum bad,
þæt he dogora gehwam dream gehyrde
hludne in healle; þær wæs hearpan sweg,
swutol sang scopes. Sægde se þe cuþe
frumsceaft fira feorran reccan,

92-113
cwæð þæt se Ælmihtiga eorðan worhte,
wlitebeorhtne wang, swa wæter bebugeð,
gesette sigehreþig sunnan ond monan
leoman to leohte landbuendum,
ond gefrætwade foldan sceatas
leomum ond leafum, lif eac gesceop
rynna gehwylcum þara ðe cwice hwyrfaþ.---
Swa þa drihtguman dreamum lifdon,
eadiglice, oð ðæt an ongan
fyrene fremman feond on helle;
wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,
mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold,
fen ond fæsten; fifelcynnes eard
wonsæli wer weardode hwile,
siþðan him Scyppend forscrifen hæfde
in Caines cynne--- þone cwealm gewræc
ece Drihten, þæs þe he Abel slog;
ne gefeah he þære fæhðe, ac hehine feor forwræc,
Metod for þy mane mancynne fram.
Þanon untydras ealle on wocon,
eotenas ond ylfe ond orcneas,
swylce gigantas, þa wið Gode wunnon

114-134
lange þrage; he him ðæs lean forgeald.
II Gewat ða neosian, syþðan niht becom,
hean huses, hu hit Hring-Dene
æfter beorþege gebun hæfdon.
Fand þa ðær inne æþelinga gedriht
swefan æfter symble; sorge ne cuðon,
wonsceaft wera. Wiht unhælo,
grim ond grædig, gearo sona wæs,
reoc ond reþe, ond on ræste genam
þritig þegna; þanon eft gewat
huðe hremig to ham faran,
mid þære wælfylle wica neosan.
Ða wæs on uhtan mid ærdæge
Grendles guðcræft gumum undyrne;
þa wæs æfter wiste wop up ahafen,
micel morgensweg. Mære þeoden,
æþeling ærgod, unbliðe sæt,
þolode ðryðswyð þegnsorge dreah,
syðþan hie þæs laðan last sceawedon,
wergan gastes; wæs þæt gewin to strang,
lað ond longsum! Næs hit lengra fyrst,

135-158
ac ymb ane niht eft gefremede
morðbeala mare, ond no mearn fore,
fæhðe ond fyrene; wæs to fæst on þam.
Þa wæs eaðfynde þe him elles hwær
gerumlicor ræste sohte,
bed æfter burum, ða him gebeacnod wæs,
gesægd soðlice sweotolan tacne
healðegnes hete; heold hyne syðþan
fyr ond fæstor se þæm feonde ætwand.
Swa rixode ond wið rihte wan,
ana wið eallum, oð þæt idel stod
husa selest. Wæs seo hwil micel;
twelf wintra tid torn geþolode
wine Scyldinga, weana gehwelcne,
sidra sorga; forðam secgum wearð
ylda bearnum, undyrne cuð
gyddum geomore, þætte Grendel wan
hwile wið Hroþgar, heteniðas wæg,
fyrene ond fæhðefela missera,
singale sæce; sibbe ne wolde
wið manna hwone mægenes Deniga,
feorhbealo feorran, fea þingian,
ne þær nænig witena wenan þorfte
beorhtre bote to banan folmum;

159-181
ac se æglæca ehtende wæs,
deorc deaþscua, duguþe ond geogoþe,
seomade ond syrede; sinnihte heold
mistige moras; men ne cunnon,
hwyder helrunan hwyrftum scriþað.
Swa fela fyrena feond mancynnes,
atol angengea, oft gefremede,
herdra hynða; Heorot eardode,
sincfage sel sweartum nihtum;---
no he þone gifstol gretan moste,
maþðum for Metode, ne his myne wisse.---
Þæt wæs wræc micel wine Scyldinga,
modes brecða. Monig oft gesæt
rice to rune; ræd eahtedon,
hwæt swiðferhðum selest wære
wið færgyrum to gefremmanne.
Hwilum hie geheton æt hærgtrafum
wigweorþunga, wordum bædon,
þæt him gastbona geoce gefremede
wið þeodþreaum. Swylc wæs þeaw hyra,
hæþenra hyht; helle gemundon
in modsefan, Metod hie ne cuþon,
dæda Demend, ne wiston hie Drihten God,

182-203
ne hie huru heofena Helm herian ne cuþon,
Wuldres Waldend. Wa bið þæm ðe sceal
þurh sliðne nið sawle bescufan
in fyres fæþm, frofre ne wenan,
wihte gewendan! Wel bið þæm þe mot
æfter deaðdæge Drihten secean
ond to Fæder fæþmum freoðo wilnian!
III Swa ða mælceare maga Healfdenes
singala seað; ne mihte snotor hæleð
wean onwendan; wæs þæt gewin to swyð,
laþ ond longsum, þe on ða leode becom,
nydwracu niþgrim, nihtbealwa mæst.
Þæt fram ham gefrægn Higelaces þegn,
god mid Geatum, Grendles dæda;
se wæs moncynnes mægenes strengest
on þæm dæge þysses lifes,
æþele ond eacen. Het him yðlidan
godne gegyrwan; cwæð, he guðcyning
ofer swanrade secean wolde,
mærne þeoden, þa him wæs manna þearf.
Ðone siðfæt him snotere ceorlas
lythwon logon, þeah he him leof wære;

204-228
hwetton higerofne, hæl sceawedon.
Hæfde se goda Geata leoda
cempan gecorone þara þe he cenoste
findan mihte; fiftyna sum
sundwudu sohte, secg wisade,
lagucræftig mon landgemyrcu.
Fyrst forð gewat; flota wæs on yðum,
bat under beorge. Beornas gearwe
on stefn stigon,--- streamas wundon,
sund wið sande; secgas bæron
on bearm nacanbeorhte frætwe,
guðsearo geatolic; guman ut scufon,
weras on wilsið, wudu bundenne.
Gewat þa ofer wægholm winde gefysed
flota famiheals fugle gelicost,
oð þæt ymb antid oþres dogores
wundenstefna gewaden hæfde,
þæt ða liðende land ge sawon,
brimclifu blican, beorgas steape,
side sænæssas; þa wæssund liden,
eoletes æt ende. Þanon up hraðe
Wedera leode on wang stigon,
sæwudu sældon,--- syrcan hyrsedon,
guðgewædo; Gode þancedon
þæs þe him yþlade eaðe wurdon.

229-252
Ða of wealle geseah weard Scildinga,
se þe holmclifu healdan scolde,
beran ofer bolcan beorhte randas,
fyrdsearu fuslicu; hine fyrwyt bræc
modgehygdum, hwæt þa men wæron.
Gewat him þa to waroðe wicge ridan
þegn Hroðgares, þrymmum cwehte
mægenwudu mundum, meþelwordum frægn:
'Hwæt syndon ge searohæbbendra,
byrnum werede, þe þus brontne ceol
ofer lagustræte lædan cwomon,
hider ofer holmas? Hwæt, ic hwile wæs
endesæta, ægwearde heold,
þe on land Dena laðra nænig
mid scipherge sceðþan ne meahte.
No her cuðlicor cuman ongunnon
lindhæbbende, ne ge leafnesword
guðfremmendra gearwe ne wisson,
maga gemedu. Næfre ic maran geseah
eorla ofer, eorþan ðonne is eower sum,
secg on searwum; nis þæt seldguma,
wæpnum geweorðad, næfne him his wlite leoge,
ænlic ansyn. Nu ic eower sceal
frumcyn witan, ær ge fyr heonan,

253-257
leassceaweras, on land Dena
furþur feran. Nu ge feorbuend,
mereliðende, minne gehyrað
anfealdne geþoht: ofost is selest
to gecyðanne, hwanan eowre cyme syndon.'

258-273
IIII Him se yldesta andswarode,
werodes wisa, wordhord onleac:
`We synt gumcynnes Geata leode
ond Higelaces heorðgeneatas.
Wæs min fæder folcum gecyþed,
æþele ordfruma, Ecgþeow haten;
gebad wintra worn, ær he on weg hwurfe,
gamol of geardum; hine gearwe geman
witenawelhwylc wide geond eorþan.
We þurh holdne hige hlaford þinne,
sunu Healfdenes secean cwomon,
leodgebyrgean; wes þu us larena god!
Habbað we to þæm mæran micel ærende
Deniga frean; ne sceal þær dyrne sum
wesan, þæs ic wene. Þu wast, gif hit is
swa we soþlice secgan hyrdon,

274-297

þæt mid Scyldingum sceaðona ic nat hwylc,
deogol dædhata deorcum nihtum
eaweð þurh egsan uncuðne nið,
hynðu ond hrafyl . Ic þæs Hroðgar mæg
þurh rumne sefan ræd gelæran,
hu he frod ond god feond oferswyðeþ---
gyf him edwenden æfre scolde
bealuwa bisigu bot eft cuman---,
ond þa cearwylmas colran wurðaþ;
oððe a syþðan earfoðþrage,
þreanyd þolað, þenden þær wunað
on heahstede husa selest.'
Weard maþelode, ðær on wicge sæt,
ombeht unforht: `Æghwæþres sceal
scearp scyldwiga gescad witan,
worda ond worca, se þe wel þenceð.
Ic þæt gehyre, þæt þis is hold weorod
frean Scyldinga. Gewitaþ forð beran
wæpen ond gewædu, iceow wisige;
swylce ic maguþegnas mine hate
wið feonda gehwone flotan eowerne,
niwtyrwydne nacan on sande
arum healdan, oþ ðæt eft byreð
ofer lagustreamas leofne mannan

298-319

wudu wundenhals to Wedermearce,
godfremmendra swylcum gifeþe bið
þæt þone hilderæs hal gedigeð.'
Gewiton him þa feran,--- flota stille bad,
seomode on sale sidfæþmed scip,
oa ancre fæst. Eoforlic scionon
ofer hleorbergan gehroden golde,
fah ond fyrheard,--- ferhwearde heold
guþmod grimmon. Guman onetton,
sigon ætsomne, oþ þæt hy sæl timbred
geatolic ond goldfah ongyton mihton;
þæt wæs foremærost foldbuendum
receda under roderum, on þæm se rica bad;
lixte se leoma ofer landa fela.
Him þa hildedeor hof modigra
torht getæhte, þæt hie him to mihton
gegnum gangan; guðbeorna sum
wicg gewende, word æfter cwæð:
`Mæl is me to feran; Fæder alwalda
mid arstafum eowic gehealde
siða gesunde! Ic to sæ wille,
wið wrað werod wearde healdan.'

320-338

V Stræt wæs stanfah, stig wisode
gumum ætgædere. Guðbyrnescan
heard hondlocen, hringiren scir
song in searwum, þa hie to sele furðum
in hyra gryregeatwum gangan cwomon.
Setton sæme þe side scyldas,
rondas regnhearde wið þæs recedes weal;
bugon þa to bence,--- byrnan hringdon,
guðsearo gumena; garas stodon,
sæmanna searo, samod ætgædere,
æscholt ufan græg; wæs se irenþreat
wæpnum gewurþad.
Þa ðær wlonc hæleð
oretmecgas æfter æþelum frægn:
`Hwanon ferigeað ge fætte scyldas,
græge syrcan ond grimhelmas,
heresceafta heap? Ic eom Hroðgares
ar ond ombiht. Ne seah ic elþeodige
þus manige men modiglicran.
Wen' ic þæt ge for wlenco, nalles for wræcsiðum,
ac for higeþrymmum Hroðgar sohton.'

340-360

Himþa ellenrof andswarode,
wlanc Wedera leod, word æfter spræc
heard under helme: `We synt Higelaces
beodgeneatas; Beowulf is min nama.
Wille ic asecgan sunu Healfdenes,
mærum þeodne, min ærende,
aldre þinum, gif he us geunnan wile,
þæt we hine swa godne gretan moton.'
Wulfgar maþelode --- þæt wæs Wendla leod,
wæs his modsefa manegumgecyðed,
wig ond wisdom--- : `Ic þæs wineDeniga,
frean Scildinga frinan wille,
beaga bryttan, swa þu bena eart,
þeoden mærne, ymb þinne sið,
ond þe þa andsware ædre gecyðan,
ðe me se goda agifan þenceð.'
Hwearf þa hrædlice þær Hroðgar sæt
eald ond anhar mid his eorla gedriht;
eode ellenrof, þæt he for eaxlum gestod
Deniga frean; cuþe he duguðe þeaw.
Wulfgar maðelode to his winedrihtne:

361-379

`Her syndon geferede, feorran cumene
ofer geofenes begang Geata leode;
þone yldestan oretmecgas
Beowulf nemnað. Hy benan synt,
þæt hie, þeoden min,wið þe moton
wordum wrixlan; no ðu him wearne geteoh
ðinra gegncwida, glædman Hroðar!
Hy on wiggetawum wyrðe þinceað
eorla geæhtlan; huru se aldor deah,
se þæm heaðorincum hider wisade.'
VI Hroðgar maþelode, helm Scyldinga:
'Ic hine cuðe cnihtwesende;
wæs his ealdfæder Ecgþeo haten,
ðæm to ham forgeaf Hreþel Geata
angan dohtor; is his eaforan nu
heard her cumen, sohte holdne wine.
Ðonne sægdon þæt sæliþende,
þa ðe gifsceattas Geata fyredon
þyder to þance, þæt he þritiges

380-401

manna mægencræft on his mundgripe
heaþorof hæbbe. Hine halig God
for arstafum us onsende,
to West-Denum, þæs ic wen hæbbe.
wið Grendles gryre. Ic þæm godan sceal
for his modþræce madmas beodan.
Beo ðu on ofeste, hat in gan
seon sibbegedriht samod ætgædere,
gesaga him eac wordum. þæt hie sint wil cuman
Deniga leodum.' Þa to dura eode
widcuð hæleð, word inne abead;
`Eow het secgan sigedrihten min,
aldor East-Dena, þæt he eoweræþelu can,
ond ge him syndon ofer sæwylmas
heardhicgende hider wilcuman.
Nu ge moton gangan in eowrum guðgetawum
under heregriman Hroðgar geseon;
lætað hildebord her onbidan,
wudu wælsceaftas worda geþinges.'
Aras þa se rica, ymb hine rinc manig,
þryðlic þegna heap ; sume þær bidon,
heaðoreaf heoldon, swa him se hearda bebead.

402-422

Snyredon ætsomne, þa secg wisode,
under Heorotes hrof; heaþorinc eode,
heard under helme, þæt he on heorðe gestod,
Beowulf ma ---ode ðelon him byrne scan,
searonet seowed smiþes orþancum--- :
`Wæs þu, Hroðgar, hal! Ic eom Higelaces
mæg ond magoðegn; hæbbe ic mærða fela
ongunnen on geogoþe. Me wearð Grendles þing
on minre eþeltyrf undyrne cuð;
secgað sæliðend, þæt þæs sele stande,
reced selesta rinca gehwylcum
idel ond unnyt, siððan æfenleoht
under heofenes hador beholen weorþeð.
Þa me þæt gelærdon leode mine,
þa selestan, snotere ceorlas,
þeoden Hroðgar, þæt ic þe sohte,
forþan hie mægenes cræft minne cuþon;
selfe ofersawon, ða ic of searwum cwom,
fah from feondum, þær ic fife geband,
yðde eotena cyn, ond on yðum slog
niceras nihtes, nearoþearfe dreah,
wræc Wedera nið --- wean ahsodon---,

424-444

forgrandgramum; ond nu wið Grendel sceal,
wið þam aglæcan ana gehegan
ðing wið þyrse. Ic þe nu ða,
brego Beorht-Dena, biddan wille,
eodor Scyldinga, anre bene,
þæt ðu me ne forwyrne, wigendra hleo,
freowine folca, nu ic þus feorran com,
þæt ic mote ana ond minra eorla gedryht,
þes hearda heap, Heorot fæl sian.
Hæbbe ic eac geahsod, þæt se æglæca
for his wonhydum wæpna ne recceð;
ic þæt þonne forhicge, swa me Higelac sie,
min mondrihten, modes bliðe,
þæt ic sweord bere oþðe sidne scyld,
geolorand to guþe, ac ic mid grape sceal
fon wið feonde ond ymb feorh sacan,
lað wið laþum; ðær gelyfan sceal
Dryhtnes dome se þe hine deað nimeð.
Wen' ic þæt he wille, gif he wealdan mot,
in þæm guðsele Geotena leode
etan unforhte, swa he oft dyde,

445-455

mægen Hreðmanna. Na ðu minne þearft
hafalan hydan, ac he me habban wile
dreore fahne, gif mec deað nimeð;
byreð blodig wæl, byrgean þenceð,
eteð angenga unmurnlice,
mearcað morhopu; no ðu ymb mines ne þearft
lices feorme leng sorgian.
Onsend Higelace, gif mec hild nime,
beaduscruda betst, þæt mine breost wereð,
hrægla selest; þæt is Hrædlan laf,
Welandes geweorc. Gæð a wyrd swa hio scel!

456-464
VII Hroðgar maþelode, helm Scyldinga:
`For gewyrhtum þu, wine min Beowulf,
ond for arstafum usic sohtest.
Gesloh þin fæder fæhðe mæste;
wearþ he Heaþolafe to handbonan
mid Wilfingum; ða hine Wedera cyn
for herebrogan habban ne mihte.
Þanon he gesohte Suð-Dena folc
ofer yða gewealc, Ar-Scyldinga;

465-485

ða ic furþum weold folce Deniga
ond on geogoðe heold ginne rice,
hordburh hæleþa; ða wæs Heregar dead,
min yldra mæg unlifigende,
bearn Healfdenes; se wæs betera ðonne ic!
Siððan þa fæhðe feo þingode;
sende ic Wylfingum ofer wæteres hrycg
ealde madmas; he me aþas swor.
Sorh is me to secganne on sefan minum
gumena ængum, hwæt me Grendel hafað
hynðo on Heorote mid his heteþancum,
færniða gefremed; is min fletwerod,
wigheap gewanod; hie wyrd forsweop
on Grendles gryre. God eaþe mæg
þone dolsceaðan dæda getwæfan!
Ful oft gebeotedon beore druncne
ofer ealowæge oretmecgas,
þæt hie in beorsele bidan woldon
Grendles guþe mid gryrum ecga.
Ðonne wæs þeos medoheal on morgentid,
drihtsele dreorfah, þonne dæg lixte,

486-503

eal bencþelu blode bestymed,
heall heorudreore; ahte ic holdra þy læs,
deorre duguðe, þe þa deað fornam.
Site nu to symle ond onsæl meoto,
sigehreð secgum, Swa þin sefa hwette.'
Þa wæs Geatmæcgum geador ætsomne
on beorsele benc gerymed;
þær swiðferhþe sittan eodon,
þryðum dealle. Þegn nytte beheold,
se þe on handa bær hroden ealowæge,
scencte scir wered. Scop hwilum sang
hador on Heorote. Þær wæs hæleða dream,
duguð unlytel Dena ond Wedera.
VIII Unferð maþelode, Ecglafes bearn,
þe æt fotum sæt frean Scyldinga,
onband beadurune--- wæs him Beowulfes sið,
modges merefaran, micel æfþunca,
forþon þe he ne uþe, þæt ænig oðer man

504-523

æfre mærða þon ma middangeardes
gehede under heofenum þonne he sylfa--- :
`Eart þu se Beowulf, se þe wið Brecan wunne,
on sidne sæ ymb sund flite,
ðær git for wlence wada cunnedon
ond for dolgilpe on deop wæter
aldrum neþdon? Ne inc ænig mon,
ne leof ne lað, belean mihte
sorhfullne sið, þa git on sund reon;
þær git eagorstream earmum þehton,
mæton merestræta, mundum brugdon,
glidon ofer garsecg; geofon yþum weol,
wintrys wylmum. Git on wæteres æht,
seofon niht swuncon; he þe æt sunde oferflat,
hæfde mare mægen. Þa hine on morgentid
on Heaðo-Ræmes holm up ætbær;
ðonon he gesohte swæsne eþel,
leof his leodum, lond Brondinga,
freoðoburh fægere, þær he folc ahte,
burh ond beagas. Beot eal wið þe

524-543

sunu Beanstanes soðe gelæste.
Ðonne wene ic to þe wyrsan geþingea,
ðeah þu heaðoræsa gehwær dohte,
grimre guðe, gif þu Grendles dearst
nihtlongne fyrst nean bidan.'
Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`Hwæt, þu worn fela, wine min Unferð,
beore druncen ymb Brecan spræce,
sædgest from his siðe! Soð ic talige,
þæt ic merestrengo maran ahte,
earfeþo on yþum, ðonne ænig oþer man.
Wit þæt gecwædon cnihtwesende
ond gebeotedon --- wæron begen þa git
on geogoðfeore--- þæt wit on garsecg ut
aldrum neðdon, ond þæt geæfndon swa.
Hæfdon swurd nacod, þa wit on sund reon,
heard on handa; wit unc wið hronfixas
werian þohton. No he wiht fram me
flodyþum feor fleotan meahte,
hraþor on holme; no ic fram him wolde.

544-558

Ða wit ætsomne on sæ wæron
fif nihta fyrst, oþ þæt unc flod todraf,
wado weallende, wedera cealdost,
nipende niht, ond norþanwind
heaðogrim ondhwearf; hreo wæron yþa.
wæs merefixa mod onhrered;
þær me wið laðum licsyrce min
heard hondlocen, helpe gefremede,
beadohrægl broden, on breostum læg
golde gegyrwed. Me to grunde teah
fah feondscaða, fæste hæfde
grim on grape; hwæþre me gyfeþe wearð,
þæt ic aglæcan orde geræhte,
hildebille; heaþoræs fornam
mihtig meredeor þurh mine hand.
VIIII Swa mec gelome laðgeteonan
þreatedon þearle. Ic him þenode
deoran sweorde, swa hit gedefe wæs.
Næs hie ðære fylle gefean hæfdon,
manfordædlan, þæt hie me þegon,
symbel ymbsæton sægrunde neah;
ac on mergenne mecum wunde

566-588

be yðlafe uppe lægon,
sweordum aswefede, þæt syðþan na
ymb brontne ford brimliðende
lade ne letton. Leoht eastan com,
beorht beacen Godes; brimu swaþredon,
þæt ic sænæssas geseon mihte,
windige weallas. Wyrd oft nereð
unfægne eorl, þonne his ellen deah!
Hwæþere me gesælde, þæt ic mid sweorde ofsloh
niceras nigene. No ic on niht gefrægn
under heofones hwealf heardran feohtan,
ne on egstreamum earmran mannon;
hwæþere ic fara feng feore gedigde
siþes werig. Ða mec sæ oþbær,
flod æfter faroðe on Finna land,
wadu weallendu. No ic wiht fram þe
swylcra searoniða secgan hyrde,
billa brogan. Breca næfre git
æt heaðolace, ne gehwæþer incer,
swa deorlice, dæd gefremede
fagum sweordum --- no ic þæs fela gylpe--- ,
þeah ðu þinum broðrum to banan wurde,
heafodmægum; þæs þu in helle scealt

589-608

werhðo dreogan, þeah þin wit duge.
Secge ic þe to soðe, sunu Ecglafes,
þæt næfre Grendel swa fela gryra gefremede,
atol æglæca, ealdre þinum,
hynðo on Heorote, gif þin hige wære,
sefa swa searogrim, swa þu self talast;
ac he hafað onfunden, þæt he þa fæhðe ne þearf,
atole ecgþræce eower leode
swiðe onsittan, Sige-Scyldinga;
nymeð nydbade, nænegum arað
leode Deniga, ac he lust wigeð,
swefeð ond snedeþ, secce ne weneþ
to Gar-Denum. Ac ic him Geata sceal
eafoð ond ellen ungeara nu,
guþe gebeodan. Gæþ eft se þe
mot to medo modig, siþþan morgenleoht
ofer ylda bearn oþres dogores,
sunne sweglwered suþan scineð!'
Þa wæs on salum sinces brytta,
gamolfeax ond guðrof; geoce gelyfde

609-629

brego Beorht-Dena, gehyrde on Beowulfe
folces hyrde fæstrædne geþoht.
Ðær wæs hæleþa hleahtor, hlyn swynsode,
word wæron wynsume. Eode Wealhþeow forð,
cwen Hroðgares, cynna gemyndig,
grette goldhroden guman on healle,
ond þa freolic wif ful gesealde
ærest East-Dena eþelwearde,
bæd hine bliðne æt þære beorþege,
leodum leofne; he on lust geþeah
symbel ond seleful, sigerof kyning.
Ymbeode þa ides Helminga
duguþe ond geogoþe dæl æghwylcne,
sincfato sealde, oþ þæt sæl alamp
þæt hio Beowulfe, beaghroden cwen
mode geþungen medoful ætbær;
grette Geata leod, Gode þancode
wisfæst wordum þæs ðe hire se willa gelamp,
þæt heo on ænigne eorl gelyfde
fyrena frofre. He þæt ful geþeah,
wælreow wiga, æt Wealhþeon,

630-653

ond þa gyddode guþe gefysed,
Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`Ic þæt hogode, þa ic on holm gestah,
sæbat gesæt mid minra secga gedriht,
þæt ic anunga eowra leoda
willan geworhte, oþðe on wæl crunge
feondgrapum fæst. Ic gefremman sceal
eorlic ellen, oþðe endedæg
on þisse meoduhealle minne gebidan!'
Ðam wife þa word wel licodon,
gilpcwide Geates; eode goldhroden,
freolicu folccwen to hire frean sittan.
Þa wæs eft swa ær inne on healle
þryðword sprecen, ðeod on sælum,
sigefolca sweg, oþ þæt semninga
sunu Healfdenes secean wolde
æfenræste; wiste þæm ahlæcan
to þæm heahsele hilde geþinged,
siððan hie sunnan leoht geseon meahton,
oð þe nipende niht ofer ealle,
scaduhelma gesceapu scriðan cwoman
wan under wolcnum. Werod eall aras.
Gegrette þa guma oþerne,
Hroðgar Beowulf, ond him hæl abead,

654-661

winærnes geweald, ond þæt word acwæð:
`Næfre ic ænegum men ær alyfde,
siþðan ic hond ond rond hebban mihte,
ðryþærn Dena buton þe nu ða.
Hafa nu ond geheald husa selest,
gemyne mærþo, mægenellen cyð,
waca wiþ wraþum! Ne bið þe wilna gad,
gif þu þæt ellenweorc aldre gedigest.'

663-675

X Ða him Hroþgar gewat mid his hæleþa gedryht,
eodur Scyldinga ut of healle;
wolde wigfruma Wealhþeo secan,
cwen to gebeddan. Hæfde Kyningwuldor
Grendle togeanes, swa guman gefrungon,
seleweard aseted; sundornytte behold
ymb aldor Dena, eotonweard' abead.
Huru Geata leod georne truwode
modgan mægnes, Metodes hyldo.---
Ða he him of dyde iserbyrnan,
helm of hafelan, sealde his hyrsted sweord,
irena cyst ombihtþegne,
ond gehealdan het hildegeatwe.
Gespræc þa se goda gylpworda sum,

676-697

Beowulf Geata, ær he on bed stige:
`No ic me an herewæsmun hnagran talige
guþgeweorca, þonne Grendel hine;
forþan ic hine sweorde swebban nelle,
aldre beneotan, þeah ic eal mæge;
nat he þara goda, þæt he me ongean slea,
rand geheawe, þeah ðe he rof sie
niþgeweorca; ac wit on niht sculon
secge ofersittan, gif he gesecean dear
wig ofer wæpen, ond siðan witig God
on swa hwæere hond halig Dryhten
mærðo deme, swa him gemet þince.'
Hylde hine þa heaþodeor, hleorbolster onfeng
eorles andwlitan, ond hine ymb monig
snellic særinc selereste gebeah.
Nænig heora þohte, þæt he þanon scolde
eft eardlufan æfre gesecan,
folc oþðe freoburh, þær he afeded wæs;
ac hie hæfdon gefrunen, þæt hie ær to fela micles
in þæm winsele wældeað fornam,
Denigea leode. Ac him Dryhten forgeaf
wigspeda gewiofu, Wedera leodum.

698-718

frofor ond fultum, þæt hie feond heora
ðurh anes cræft ealle ofercomon,
selfes mihtum. Soð is gecyþed,
þæt mihtig God manna cynnes
weold wideferhð.
Com on wanre niht
scriðan sceadugenga. Sceotend swæfon,
þa þæt hornreced healdan scoldon,
ealle buton anum. Þæt wæs yldum cuþ,
þæt hie ne moste, þa Metod nolde,
se scynscaþa under sceadu bregdan;---
ac he wæccende wraþum on andan
bad bolgenmod beadwa geþinges.
XI Ða com of more under misthleoþum
Grendel gongan, Godes yrre bær;
mynte se manscaða manna cynnes
sumne besyrwan in sele þam hean.
Wod under wolcnum to þæs þe he winreced,
goldsele gumena gearwost wisse
fættum fahne. Ne wæs þæt forma sið,
þæt he Hroþgares ham gesohte;
næfre he on aldordagum ær ne siþðan

719-739

heardran hæle, healðegnas fand!
Com þa to recede rinc siðian
dreamum bedæled. Duru sona onarn
fyrbendum fæst, syþðan he hire folmum æthran;
onbræd þa bealohydig, ða he gebolgen wæs,
recedes muþan. Raþe æfter þon
on fagne flor feond treddode,
eode yrremod; him of eagum stod
ligge gelicost leoht unfæger.
Geseah he in recede rinca manige,
swefan sibbegedriht samod ætgædere,
magorinca heap. Þa his mod ahlog;
mynte þæt he gedælde, ær þon dæg cwome,
atol aglæca, anra gehwylces
lif wið lice, þa him alumpen wæs
wistfylle wen. Ne wæs þæt wyrd þa gen,
þæt he ma moste manna cynnes
ðicgean ofer þa niht. Þryðswyð beheold
mæg Higelaces, hu se manscaða
under færgripum gefaran wolde.
Ne þæt se aglæca yldan þohte,

740-761

ac he gefeng hraðe forman siðe
slæpendne rinc, slat unwearnum,
bat banlocan, blod edrum dranc,
synsnædum swealh; sona hæfde
unlyfigendes eal gefeormod,
fet ond folma. Forð near ætstop,
nam þa mid handa higeþihtigne
rinc on ræste, ræhte ongean
feond mid folme; he onfeng hraþe
inwitþancum ond wið earm gesæt.
Sona þæt onfunde fyrena hyrde,
þæt he ne mette middangeardes,
eorþan sceata on elran men
mundgripe maran; he on mode wearð
forht on ferhðe; no þy ær fram meahte.
Hyge wæs him hinfus, wolde on heolster fleon,
secan deofla gedræg; ne wæs his drohtoð þær
swylce he on ealderdagum ær gemette.
Gemunde þa se goda, mæg Higelaces,
æfenspræce, uplang astod
ond him fæste wiðfeng; fingras burston;
eoten wæs utweard; eorl furþur stop.

762-782

Mynte se mæra, þær he meahte swa,
widre gewindan ond on weg þanon
fleon on fenhopu; wiste his fingra geweald
on grames grapum. Þæt wæs geocor sið,
þæt se hearmscaþa to Heorute ateah!
Dryhtsele dynede; Denum eallum wearð,
ceasterbuendum, cenra gehwylcum,
eorlum ealuscerwen. Yrre wæron begen,
reþe renweardas. Reced hlynsode.
Þa wæs wundor micel, þæt se winsele
wiðhæfde heaþodeorum, þæt he on hrusan ne feol,
fæger foldbold; ac he þæs fæste wæs
innan ond utan irenbendum
searoþoncum besmiþod. Þær fram sylle abeag
medubenc monig mine gefræge
golde geregnad, þær þa graman wunnon.
Þæs ne wendon ær witan Scyldinga,
þæt hit a mid gemete manna ænig
betlic ond banfag tobrecan meahte,
listum tolucan, nymþe liges fæþm
swulge on swaþule. Sweg up astag

783-803

niwe geneahhe: Norð-Denum stod
atelic egesa, anra gehwylcum
þara þe of wealle wop gehyrdon,
gryreleoð galan Godes andsacan,
sigeleasne sang, sar wanigean
helle hæfton. Heold hine fæste
se þe manna wæs mægene strengest
on þæm dæge þysses lifes.
XII Nolde eorla hleo ænige þinga
þone cwealmcuman cwicne forlætan,
ne his lifdagas leoda ænigum
nytte tealde. Þær genehost brægd
eorl Beowulfes ealde lafe,
wolde freadrihtnes feorh ealgian,
mæres þeodnes, ðær hie meahton swa.
Hie þæt ne wiston, þa hie gewin drugon,
heardhicgende hildemecgas,
ond on healfa gehwone heawan þohton,
sawle secan: þone synscaðan
ænig ofer eorþan irenna cyst,
guðbilla nan, gretan nolde;

804-826

ac he sigewæpnum forsworen hæfde,
ecga gehwylcre. Scolde his aldorgedal
on ðæm dæge þysses lifes
earmlic wurðan, ond se ellorgast
on feonda geweald feor siðian.---
Ða þæt onfunde se þe fela æror
modes myrðe manna cynne,
fyrene gefremede --- he wæs fag wið God--- ,
þæt him se lichoma læstan nolde,
ac hine se modega mæg Hygelaces
hæfde be honda; wæs gehwæþer oðrum
lifigende lað. Licsar gebad
atol æglæca; him on eaxle wearð
syndolh sweotol, seonowe onsprungon,
burston banlocan. Beowulfe wearð
guðhreð gyfeþe; scolde Grendel þonan
feorhseoc fleon under fenhleoðu,
secean wynleas wic; wiste þe geornor
þæt his aldres wæs ende gegongen,
dogera dægrim. Denum eallum wearð
æfter þam wælræse willa gelumpen.
Hæfde þa gefælsod se þe ær feorran com,
snotor ond swyðferhð, sele Hroðgares,

827-8367

genered wið niðe. Nihtweorce gefeh,
ellenmærþum. Hæfde East-Denum
Geatmecga leod gilp gelæsted,
swylce oncyþðe ealle gebette,
inwidsorge, þe hie ær drugon
ond for þreanydum þolian scoldon,
torn unlytel. Þæt wæs tacen sweotol,
syþðan hildedeor hond alegde,
earm ond eaxle --- þær wæs eal geador
Grendles grape--- under geapne hrof.837-849

XIII Ða wæs on morgen mine gefræge
ymb þa gifhealle guðrinc monig;
ferdon folctogan feorran ond nean
geond widwegas wundor sceawian,
laþes lastas. No his lifgedal
sarlic þuhte secga ænegum
þara þe tirleases trode sceawode,
hu he werigmod on weg þanon,
niða ofercumen, on nicera mere
fæge ond geflymed feorhlastas bær.
Ðær wæs on blode brim weallende,
atol yða geswing eal gemenged
haton heolfre, heorodreore weol;

850-872

deaðfæge deog, siððan dreama leas
in fenfreoðo feorh alegde,
hæþene sawle; þær him hel onfeng.
Þanon eft gewiton ealdgesiðas
swylce geong manig of gomenwaþe,
fram mere modge mearum ridan,
beornas on blancum. Ðær wæs Beowulfes
mærðo mæned; monig oft gecwæð,
þætte suð ne norð be sæm tweonum
ofer eormengrund oþer nænig
under swegles begong selra nære
rondhæbbendra, rices wyrðra. ---
Ne hie huru winedrihten wiht ne logon,
glædne Hroðgar, ac þæt wæs god cyning. ---
Hwilum heaþorofe hleapan leton,
on geflit faran fealwe mearas,
ðær him foldwegas fægere þuhton,
cystum cuðe. Hwilum cyninges þegn,
guma gilphlæden, gidda gemyndig,
se ðe ealfela ealdgesegena
worn gemunde, word oþer fand
soðe gebunden; secg eft ongan
sið Beowulfes snyttrum styrian,

873-894

ond on sped wrecan spel gerade,
wordum wrixlan; welhwylc gecwæð,
þæt he fram Sigemundes secgan hyrde
ellendædum, uncuþes fela,
Wælsinges gewin, wide siðas,
þara þe gumena bearn gearwe ne wiston,
fæhðe ond fyrena, buton Fitela mid hine,
þonne he swulces hwæt secgan wolde,
eam his nefan, swa hie a wæron
æt niða gehwam nydgesteallan;
hæfdon ealfela eotena cynnes
sweordum gesæged. Sigemunde gesprong
æfter deaðdæge dom unlytel,
syþðan wiges heard wyrm acwealde,
hordes hyrde; he under harne stan,
æþelinges bearn ana geneðde
frecne dæde, ne wæs him Fitela mid;
hwæþre him gesælde, ðæt þæt swurd þurhwod
wrætlicne wyrm, þæt hit on wealle ætstod,
dryhtlic iren; draca morðre swealt.
Hæfde aglæca elne gegongen,
þæt he beahhordes brucan moste

895-917

selfes dome; sæbat gehleod,
bær on bearm scipes beorhte frætwa,
Wælses eafera; wyrm hat gemealt.
Se wæs wreccena wide mærost
ofer werþeode, wigendra hleo,
ellendædum --- he þæs ær onðah--- ,
siððan Heremodes hild sweðrode,
eafoð ond ellen. He mid Eotenum wearð,
on feonda geweald forð forlacen,
snude forsended. Hine sorhwylmas
lemede to lange; he his leodum wearð,
eallum æþellingum to aldorceare;
swylce oft bemearn ærran mælum
swiðferhþes sið snotor ceorl monig,
se þe him bealwa to bote gelyfde,
þæt þæt ðeodnes bearn geþeon scolde,
fæderæþelum onfon, folc gehealdan,
hord ond hleoburh, hæleþa rice,
eþel Scyldinga. He þær eallum wearð,
mæg Higelaces manna cynne,
freondum gefægra; hine fyren onwod.
Hwilum flitende fealwe stræte
mearum mæton. Ða wæs morgenleoht

918-938

scofen ond scynded. Eode scealc monig
swiðhicgende to sele þam hean
searowundor seon; swylce self cyning
of brydbure, beahhorda weard,
tryddode tirfæst getrume micle,
cystum gecyþed, ond his cwen mid him
medostigge mæt mægþa hose.
XIIII Hroðgar maþelode --- he to healle geong,
stod on stapole, geseah steapne hrof
golde fahne ond Grendles hond --- :
`Ðisse ansyne Alwealdan þanc
lungre gelimpe! Fela ic laþes gebad,
grynna æt Grendle; a mæg God wyrcan
wunder æfter wundre, wuldres Hyrde.
Ðæt wæs ungeara, þæt ic ænigra me
weana ne wende to widan feore
bote gebidan, þonne blode fah
husa selest heorodreorig stod, ---
wea widscofen witena gehwylcum
ðara þe ne wendon, þæt hie wideferhð
leoda landgeweorc laþum beweredon

939-962

scuccum ond scinnum. Nu scealc hafað
þurh Drihtnes miht dæd gefremede,
ðe we ealle ær ne meahton
snyttrum besyrwan. Hwæt, þæt secgan mæg
efne swa hwylc mægþa swa ðone magan cende
æfter gumcynnum, gyf heo gyt lyfað,
þæt hyre Ealdmetod este wære
bearngebyrdo. Nu ic, Beowulf, þec,
secg betsta, me for sunu wylle
freogan on ferhþe; heald forð tela
niwe sibbe. Ne bið þe nænigra gad
worolde wilna, þe ic geweald hæbbe.
Ful oft ic for læssan lean teohhode,
hordweorþunge hnahran rince,
sæmran æt sæcce. Þu þe self hafast
dædum gefremed, þæt þin dom lyfað
awa to aldre. Alwalda þec
gode forgylde, swa he nu gyt dyde!'
Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`We þæt ellenweorc estum miclum,
feohtan fremedon, frecne geneðdon
eafoð uncuþes. Uþe ic swiþor,
þæt ðu hine selfne geseon moste,
feond on frætewum fylwerigne!

963-986

Ic hine hrædlice heardan clammum
on wælbedde wriþan þohte,
þæt he for mundgripe minum scolde
licgean lifbysig, butan his lic swice;
ic hine ne mihte, þa Metod nolde,
ganges getwæman, no ic him þæs georne ætfealh,
feorhgeniðlan; wæs to foremihtig
feond on feþe. Hwæþere he his folme forlet
to lifwraþe last weardian,
earm ond eaxle; no þær ænige swa þeah
feasceaft guma frofre gebohte;
no þy leng leofað laðgeteona
synnum geswenced, ac hyne sar hafað
in nidgripe nearwe befongen,
balwon bendum; ðær abidan sceal
maga mane fah miclan domes,
hu him scir Metod scrifan wille.'
Ða wæs swigra secg, sunu Ecglafes,
on gylpspræce guðgeweorca,
siþðan æþelingas eorles cræfte
ofer heanne hrof hand sceawedon,
feondes fingras; foran æghwylc wæs,
stiðra nægla gehwylc style gelicost,
hæþenes handsporu hilderinces

987-1008

eglu unheoru; æghwylc gecwæð,
þæt him heardra nan hrinan wolde
iren ærgod, þæt ðæs ahlæcan
blodge beadufolme onberan wolde.
XV Ða wæs haten hreþe Heort innanweard
folmum gefrætwod; fela þæra wæs,
wera ond wifa, þe þæt winreced,
gestsele gyredon. Goldfag scinon
web æfter wagum, wundorsiona fela
secga gehwylcum þara þe on swylc starað.
Wæs þæt beorhte bold tobrocen swiðe
eal inneweard irenbendum fæst,
heorras tohlidene; hrof ana genæs
ealles ansund, þe se aglæca
fyrendædum fag on fleam gewand,
aldres orwena. No þæt yðe byð
to befleonne --- fremme se þe wille --- ,
ac gesacan sceal sawlberendra,
nyde genydde, niþða bearna,
grundbuendra gearwe stowe,
þær his lichoma legerbedde fæst
swefeþ æfter symle.
Þa wæs sæl ond mæl,

1009-1031

þæt to healle gang Healfdenes sunu;
wolde self cyning symbel þicgan,
Ne gefrægen ic þa mægþa maran weorode
ymb hyra sincgyfan sel gebæran.
Bugon þa to bence blædagande,
fylle gefægon; fægere geþægon
medoful manig magas þara
swiðhicgende on sele þam hean,
Hroðgar ond Hroþulf. Heorot innan wæs
freondum afylled; nalles facenstafas
Þeod-Scyldingas þenden fremedon. ---
Forgeaf þa Beowulfe bearn Healfdenes
segen gyldenne sigores to leane,
hroden hildecumbor, helm ond byrnan;
mære maðþumsweord manige gesawon
beforan beorn beran. Beowulf geþah
ful on flette; no he þære feohgyfte
for sceotendum scamigan ðorfte, ---
ne gefrægn ic freondlicor feower madmas
golde gegyrede gummanna fela
in ealobence oðrum gesellan.
Ymb þæs helmes hrof heafodbeorge
wirum bewunden walu utan heold,

1032-1049

þæt him fela laf frecne ne meahte
scurheard sceþðan, þonne scyldfreca
ongean gramum gangan scolde.
Heht ða eorla hleo eahta mearas
fætedhleore on flet teon,
in under eoderas; þara anum stod
sadol searwum fah, since gewurþad;
þæt wæs hildesetl heahcyninges,
ðonne sweorda gelac sunu Healfdenes
efnan wolde, --- næfre on ore læg
widcuþes wig, ðonne walu feollon.
Ond ða Beowulfe bega gehwæþres
eodor Ingwina onweald geteah,
wicga ond wæpna; het hine wel brucan.
Swa manlice mære þeoden,
hordweard hæleþa heaþoræsas geald
mearum ond madmum, swa hy næfre man lyhð,
se þe secgan wile soð æfter rihte.1050-1052

XVI ÐA gyt æghwylcum eorla drihten
þara þe mid Beowulfe brimlade teah,
on þære medubence maþðum gesealde,

1053-1074

yrfelafe, ond þone ænne heht
golde forgyldan, þone ðe Grendel ær
mane acwealde,--- swa he hyra ma wolde,
nefne him witig God wyrd forstode
ond ðæs mannes mod. Metod eallum weold
gumena cynnes, swa he nu git deð.
Forþan bið andgit æghwær selest,
ferhðes foreþanc. Fela sceal gebidan
leofes ond laþes se þe longe her
on ðyssum windagum worolde bruceð!
Þær wæs sang ond sweg samod ætgædere
fore Healfdenes hildewisan,
gomenwudu greted, gid oft wrecen,
ðonne healgamen Hroþgares scop
æfter medobence mænan scolde,
be Finnes eaferum, ða hie se fær begeat,
hæleð Healf-Dena, Hnæf Scyldinga
in Freswæle feallan scolde.
Ne huru Hildeburh herian þorfte
Eotena treowe; unsynnum wearð
beloren leofum æt þam lindplegan
bearnum ond broðrum; hie on gebyrd hruron

1075-1097

gare wunde; þæt wæs geomuru ides!
Nalles holinga Hoces dohtor
meotodsceaft bemearn, syþðan morgen com,
ða heo under swegle geseon meahte
morþorbealo maga, þær heo ær mæste heold
worolde wynne. Wig ealle fornam
Finnes þegnas nemne feaum anum,
þæt he ne mehte on þæm meðelstede
wig Hengeste wiht gefeohtan,
ne þa wealafe wige forþringan
þeodnes ðegna; ac hig him geþingo budon,
þæt hie him oðer flet eal gerymdon,
healle ond heahsetl, þæt hie healfre geweald
wið Eotena bearn agan moston,
ond æt feohgyftum Folcwaldan sunu
dogra gehwylce Dene weorþode,
Hengestes heap hringum wenede
efne swa swiðe sincgestreonum
fættan goldes, swa he Fresena cyn
on beorsele byldan wolde.
Ða hie getruwedon on twa healfa
fæste frioðuwære. Fin Hengeste
elne unflitme aðum benemde,

1098-1118

þæt he þa wealafe weotena dome
arum heolde, þæt ðær ænig mon
wordum ne worcum wære ne bræce,
ne þurh inwitsearo æfre gemænden,
ðeah hie hira beaggyfan banan folgedon
ðeodenlease, þa him swa geþearfod wæs;
gyf þonne Frysna hwylc frecnan spræce
ðæs morþorhetes myndgiend wære,
þonne hit sweordes ecg seðan scolde. ---
Ad wæs geæfned, ond icge gold
ahæfen of horde. Here-Scyldinga
betst beadorinca wæs on bæl gearu.
Æt þæm ade wæs eþgesyne
swatfah syrce, swyn ealgylden,
eofer irenheard, æþeling manig
wundum awyrded; sume on wæle crungon!
Het ða Hildeburh æt Hnæfes ade
hire selfre sunu sweoloðe befæstan,
banfatu bærnan, ond on bæl don
eame on eaxle. Ides gnornode,
geomrode giddum. Guðrinc astah.

1119-1138

Wand to wolcnum wælfyra mæst,
hlynode for hlawe; hafelan multon,
bengeato burston, ðonne blod ætspranc,
laðbite lices. Lig ealle forswealg,
gæsta gifrost, þara ðe þær guð fornam
bega folces; wæs hira blæd scacen.
XVII Gewiton him ða wigend wica neosian
freondum befeallen, Frysland geseon,
hamas ond heaburh. Hengest ða gyt
wælfagne winter wunode mid Finne
eal unhlitme; eard gemunde,
þeah þe ne meahte on mere drifan
hringedstefnan,--- holm storme weol,
won wið winde, winter yþe beleac
isgebinde, oþðæt oþer com
gear in geardas,--- swa nu gyt deð,
þa ðe syngales sele bewitiað,
wuldortorhtan weder. Ða wæs winter scacen,
fæger foldan bearm; fundode wrecca,
gist of geardum; he to gyrnwræce

1139-1158

swiðor þohte þonne to sælade,
gif he torngemot þurhteon mihte,
þæt he Eotena bearn inne gemunde.
Swa he ne forwyrnde weorodrædende,
þonne him Hunlafing hildeleoman,
billa selest on bearm dyde;
þæs wæron mid Eotenum ecge cuðe.
Swylce ferðfrecan Fin eft begeat
sweordbealo sliðen æt his selfes ham,
siþðan grimne gripe Guðlaf ond Oslaf
æfter sæsiðe, sorge mændon,
ætwiton weana dæl; ne meahte wæfre mod
forhabban in hreþre. Ða wæs heal roden
feonda feorum, swilce Fin slægen,
cyning on corþre, ond seo cwen numen.
Sceotend Scyldinga to scypon feredon
eal ingesteald eorðcyninges,
swylce hie æt Finnes ham findan meahton
sigla searogimma. Hie on sælade
drihtlice wif to Denum feredon,

1159-1174

læddon to leodum.
Leoð wæs asungen,
gleomannes gyd. Gamen eft astah,
beorhtode bencsweg, byrelas sealdon
win of wunderfatum. Þa cwom Wealhþeo forð
gan under gyldnum beage þær þa godan twegen
sæton suhtergefæderan; þa gyt wæs hiera sib ætgædere,
æghwylc oðrum trywe. Swylce þær Unferþ þyle
æt fotum sæt frean Scyldinga; gehwylc hiora his ferhþe treowde,
þæt he hæfde mod micel, þeah þe he his magum nære
arfæst æt ecga gelacum. Spræc ða ides Scyldinga:
`Onfoh þissum fulle, freodrihten min,
sinces brytta! þu on sælum wes,
goldwine gumena, ond to Geatum spræc
mildum wordum, swa sceal man don!
Beo wið Geatas glæd, geofena gemyndig,
nean ond feorran þu nu hafast.

1175-1194

Me man sægde, þæt þu ðe for sunu wolde
hererinc habban. Heorot is gefælsod,
beahsele beorhta; bruc þenden þu mote
manigra medo, ond þinum magum læf
folc ond rice, þonne ðu forð scyle,
metodsceaft seon. Ic minne can
glædne Hroþulf, þæt he þa geogoðe wile
arum healdan, gyf þu ær þonne he,
wine Scildinga, worold oflætest;
wene ic þæt he mid Gode gyldan wille
uncran eaferan, gif he þæt eal gemon,
hwæt wit to willan ond to worðmyndum
umborwesendum ær arna gefremedon.'
Hwearf þa bi bence, þær hyre byre wæron,
Hreðric ond Hroðmund, ond hæleþa bearn,
giogoð ætgædere; þær se goda sæt,
Beowulf Geata, be þæm gebroðrum twæm.
XVIII Him wæs ful boren, ond freondlaþu
wordum bewægned, ond wunden gold
estum geeawed, earmreade twa,

1195-1216

hrægl ond hringas, healsbeaga mæst
þara þe ic on foldan gefrægen hæbbe.
Nænigne ic under swegle selran hyrde
hordmaðum hæleþa, syþðan Hama ætwæg
to þære byrhtan byrig Brosinga mene,
sigle ond sincfæt,--- searoniðas fleah
Eormenrices, geceas ecne ræd. ---
þone hring hæfde Higelac Geata,
nefa Swertinges, nyhstan siðe,
siðþan he under segne sinc ealgode,
wælreaf werede; hyne wyrd fornam,
syþðan he for wlenco wean ahsode,
fæhðe to Frysum. He þa frætwe wæg,
eorclanstanas ofer yða ful,
rice þeoden; he under rande gecranc.
Gehwearf þa in Francna fæþm feorh cyninges,
breostgewædu, ond se beah somod;
wyrsan wigfrecan wæl reafedon
æfter guðsceare, Geata leode,
hreawic heoldon.--- Heal swege onfeng.
Wealhðeo maþelode, heo fore þæm werede spræc:
`Bruc ðisses beages, Beowulf leofa,

1217-1241

hyse, mid hæle, ond þisses hrægles neot,
þeodgestreona, ond geþeoh tela,
cen þec mid cræfte, ond þyssum cnyhtum wes
lara liðe! Ic þe þæs lean geman.
Hafast þu gefered, þæt ðe feor ond neah
ealne wideferhþ weras ehtigað,
efne swa side swa sæ bebugeð,
windgeard, weallas. Wes þenden þu lifige,
æþeling, eadig! Ic þe an tela
sincgestreona. Beo þu suna minum
dædum gedefe, dreamhealdende!
Her is æghwylc eorl oþrum getrywe,
modes milde, mandrihtne hold,
þegnas syndon geþwære, þeod ealgearo,
druncne dryhtguman doð swa ic bidde'
Eode þa to setle. Þær wæs symbla cyst,
druncon win weras. Wyrd ne cuþon,
geosceaft grimme, swa hit agangen wearð
eorla manegum, syþðan æfen cwom,
ond him Hroþgar gewat to hofe sinum,
rice to ræste. Reced weardode
unrim eorla, swa hie oft ær dydon.
Bencþelu beredon; hit geondbræded wearð
beddum ond bolstrum. Beorscealca sum
fus ond fæge fletræste gebeag.

1242-1250

Setton him to heafdon hilderandas,
bordwudu beorhtan; þær on bence wæs
ofer æþelinge yþgesene
heaþosteapa helm, hringed byrne,
þrecwudu þrymlic. Wæs þeaw hyra,
þæt hie oft wæron an wig gearwe,
ge æt ham ge on herge, ge gehwæþer þara,
efne swylce mæla, swylce hira mandryhtne
þearf gesælde; wæs seo þeod tilu.1251-1264
XVIIII Sigon þa to slæpe. Sum sare angeald
æfenræste, swa him ful oft gelamp,
siþðan goldsele Grendel warode,
unriht æfnde, oþ þæt ende becwom,
swylt æfter synnum. Þæt gesyne wearþ,
widcuð werum, þætte wrecend þa gyt
lifde æfter laþum, lange þrage,
æfter guðceare; Grendles modor,
ides aglæcwif yrmþe gemunde,
se þe wæteregesan wunian scoldeld ,cea
e streamas, siþðan Cain wearð
to ecgbanan angan breþer,
fæderenmæge; he þa fag gewat,
morþre gemearcod mandream fleon,

1265-1286
westen warode. Þanon woc fela
geosceaftgasta; wæs þæra Grendel sum,
heorowearh hetelic, se æt Heorote fand
wæccendne wer wiges bidan;
þær him aglæca ætgræpe wearð;
hwæþre he gemunde mægenes strenge,
gimfæste gife, ðe him God sealde,
ond him to Anwaldan are gelyfde,
frofre ond fultum; ðy he þone feond ofercwom,
gehnægde helle gast. Þa he hean gewat,
dreame bedæled deaþwic seon,
mancynnes feond. Ond his modor þa gyt
gifre ond galgmod gegan wolde
sorhfulne sið, sunu deoð wrecan.
Com þa to Heorote, ðær Hring-Dene
geond þæt sæld swæfun. Þa ðær sona wearð
edhwyrft eorlum, siþðan inne fealh
Grendles modor. Wæs se gryre læssa
efne swa micle, swa bið mægþa cræft,
wiggryre wifes be wæpnedmen,
þonne heoru bunden, hamere geþruen,
sweord swate fah swin ofer helme

1287-1306
ecgum dyhtig andweard scireð.
Ða wæs on healle heardecg togen
sweord ofer setlum, sidrand manig
hafen handa fæst; helm ne gemunde,
byrnan side, þa hine se broga angeat.
Heo wæs on ofste, wolde ut þanon,
feore beorgan, þa heo onfunden wæs;
hraðe heo æþelinga anne hæfde
fæste befangen, þa heo to fenne gang.
Se wæs Hroþgare hæleþa leofost
on gesiðes had be sæm tweonum,
rice randwiga, þone ðe heo on ræste abreat,
blædfæstne beorn. Næs Beowulf ðær,
ac wæs oþer in ær geteohhod
æfter maþðumgife mærum Geate.
Hream wearð in Heorote; heo under heolfre genam
cuþe folme; cearu wæs geniwod,
geworden in wicun. Ne wæs þæt gewrixle til,
þæt hie on ba healfa bicgan scoldon
freonda feorum!
Þa wæs frod cyning,

1307-1327
har hilderinc on hreon mode,
syðþan he aldorþegn unlyfigendne,
þone deorestan deadne wisse.
Hraþe wæs to bure Beowulf fetod,
sigoreadig secg. Samod ærdæge
eode eorla sum, æþele cempa
self mid gesiðum þær se snotera bad,
hwæþer him Alwalda æfre wille
æfter weaspelle wyrpe gefremman.
Gang ða æfter flore fyrdwyrðe man
mid his handscale --- healwudu dynede ---
þæt he þone wisan wordum nægde
frean Ingwina, frægn gif him wære
æfter neodlaðum niht getæse.
XX Hroðgar maþelode, helm Scyldinga:
`Ne frin þu æfter sælum! Sorh is geniwod
Denigea leodum. Dead is Æschere,
Yrmenlafes yldra broþor,
min runwita ond min rædbora,
eaxlgestealla, ðonne we on orlege
hafelan weredon, þonne hniton feþan,

1328-1352
eoferas cnysedan. Swylc scolde eorl wesan.
æþeling ærgod, swylc Æschere wæs!
Wearð him on Heorote to handbanan
wælgæst wæfre; ic ne wat hwæder
atol æse wlanc eftsiðas teah,
fylle gefægnod. Heo þa fæhðe wræc,
þe þu gystran niht Grendel cwealdest
þurh hæstne had heardum clammum,
forþan he to lange leode mine
wanode ond wyrde. He æt wige gecrang
ealdres scyldig, ond nu oþer cwom
mihtig manscaða, wolde hyre mæg wrecan,
ge feor hafað fæhðe gestæled,
þæs þe þincean mæg þegne monegum,
se þe æfter sincgyfan on sefan greoteþ, ---
hreþerbealo hearde; nu seo hand ligeð,
se þe eow welhwylcra wilna dohte.
Ic þæt londbuend, leode mine,
selerædende secgan hyrde,
þæt hie gesawon swylce twegen
micle mearcstapan moras healdan,
ellorgæstas. Ðæra oðer wæs,
þæs þe hie gewislicost gewitan meahton,
idese onlicnes; oðer earmsceapen
on weres wæstmum wræclastas træd,

1353-1377
næfne he wæs mara þonne ænig man oðer;
þone on geardagum Grendel nemdon
foldbuende; no hie fæder cunnon,
hwæþer him ænig wæs ær acenned
dyrnra gasta. Hie dygel lond
warigeað wulfhleoþu, windige næssas,
frecne fengelad, ðær fyrgenstream
under næssa genipu niþer gewiteð,
flod under foldan. Nis þæt feor heonon
milgemearces, þæt se mere standeð;
ofer þæm hongiað hrinde bearwas,
wudu wyrtum fæst wæter oferhelmað.
Þær mæg nihta gehwæm niðwundor seon,
fyr on flode. No þæs frod leofað
gumena bearna, þæt þone grund wite.
Ðeah þe hæðstapa hundum geswenced,
heorot hornum trum holtwudu sece,
feorran geflymed, ær he feorh seleð,
aldor on ofre, ær he in wille,
hafelan beorgan; nis þæt heoru stow!
Þonon yðgeblond up astigeð
won to wolcnum, þonne wind styreþ,
lað gewidru, oð þæt lyft drysmaþ,
roderas reotað. Nu is se ræd gelang
eft æt þe anum. Eard git ne const,

1378-1398
frecne stowe, þær þu findan miht
sinnigne secg; sec gif þu dyrre!
Ic þe þa fæhðe feo leanige,
ealdgestreonum, swa ic ær dyde,
windnum golde, gyf þu on weg cymest.'
XXI Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`Ne sorga, snotor guma! Selre bið æghwæm,
þæt he his freond wrece, þonne he fela murne.
Ure æghwylc sceal ende gebidan
worolde lifes; wyrce se þe mote
domes ær deaþe; þæt bið drihtguman
unlifgendum æfter selest.
Aris, rices weard, uton hraþe feran.
Grendles magan gang sceawigan.
Ic hit þe gehate: no he on helm losaþ,
ne on foldan fæþm, ne on fyrgenholt,
ne on gyfenes grund, ga þær he wille!
Ðys dogor þu geþyld hafa
weana gehwylces, swa ic þe wene to.'
Ahleop ða se gomela, Gode þancode,
mihtigan Drihtne, þæs se man gespræc.

1399-1422
Þa wæs Hroðgare hors gebæted,
wicg wundenfeax. Wisa fengel
geatolic gende; gumfeþa stop
lindhæbbendra. Lastas wæron
æfter waldswaþum wide gesyne,
gang ofer grundas, swa gegnum for
ofer myrcan mor, magoþegna bær
þone selestan sawolleasne
þara þe mid Hroðgare ham eahtode.
Ofereode þa æþelinga bearn
steap stanhliðo, stige nearwe,
enge anpaðas, uncuð gelad,
neowle næssas, nicorhusa fela;
he feara sum beforan gengde
wisra monna wong sceawian,
oþ þæt he færinga fyrgenbeamas
ofer harne stan hleonian funde,
wynleasne wudu; wæter under stod
dreorig ond gedrefed. Denum eallum wæs,
winum Scyldinga weorce on mode
to geþolianne, ðegne monegum,
oncyð eorla gehwæm, syðþan Æscheres
on þam holmclife hafelan metton.
Flod blode weol --- folc to sægon --- ,

1423-1448

hatan heolfre. Horn stundum song
fuslic fyrdleoð. Feþa eal gesæt.
Gesawon ða æfter wætere wyrmcynnes fela,
sellice sædracan sund cunnian,
swylce on næshleoðum nicras licgean,
ða on undernmæl oft bewitigað
sorhfulne sið on seglrade,
wyrmas ond wildeor. Hie on weg hruron
bitere ond gebolgne; bearhtm ongeaton,
guðhorn galan. Sumne Geata leod
of flanbogan feores getwæfde,
yðgewinnes, þæt him on aldre stod
herestræl hearda; he on holme wæs
sundes þe sænra, ðe hyne swylt fornam.
Hræþe wearð on yðum mid eoferspreotum
heorohocyhtum hearde genearwod,
niða genæged, ond on næs togen,
wundorlic wægbora; weras sceawedon
gryrelicne gist.
Gyrede hine Beowulf
eorlgewædum, nalles for ealdre mearn;
scolde herebyrne hondum gebroden,
sid ond searofah, sund cunnian,
seo ðe bancofan beorgan cuþe,
þæt him hildegrap hreþre ne mihte,
eorres inwitfeng aldre gesceþðan;
ac se hwita helm hafelan werede,

1449-1470

se þe meregrundas mengan scolde,
secan sundgebland since geweorðad,
befongen freawrasnum, swa hine fyrndagum
worhte wæpna smið, wundrum teode,
besette swinlicum, þæt hine syðþan no
brond ne beadomecas bitan ne meahton.
Næs þæt þonne mætost mægenfultuma,
þæt him on ðearfe lah ðyle Hroðgares;
wæs þæm hæftmece Hrunting nama;
þæt wæs an foran ealdgestreona;
ecg wæs iren, atertanum fah,
ahyrded heaþoswate; næfre hit æt hilde ne swac
manna ængum þara þe hit mid mundum bewand,
se ðe gryresiðas gegan dorste,
folcstede fara; næs þæt forma sið,
þæt hit ellenweorc æfnan scolde.
Huru ne gemunde mago Ecglafes
eafoþes cræftig, þæt he ær gespræc
wine druncen, þa he þæs wæpnes onlah
selran sweordfrecan; selfa ne dorste
under yða gewin aldre geneþan,
drihtscype dreogan; þær he dome forleas,

1471-1472

ellenmærðum. Ne wæs þæm oðrum swa,
syðþan he hine to guðe gegyred hæfde.1473-1490

XXII Beowulf maðelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`Geþenc nu, se mæra maga Healfdenes,
snottra fengel, nu ic eom siðes fus,
goldwine gumena, hwæt wit geo spræcon,
gif ic æt þearfe þinre scolde
aldre linnan, þæt ðu me a wære
forðgewitenum on fæder stæle.
Wes þu mundbora minum magoþegnum
hondgesellum, gif mec hild nime;
swylce þu ða madmas, þe þu me sealdest,
Hroðgar leofa, Higelace onsend.
Mæg þonne on þæm golde ongitan Geata dryhten,
geseon sunu Hrædles, þonne he on þæt sinc starað.
þæt ic gumcystum godne funde
beaga bryttan, breac þonne moste.
Ond þu Unferð læt ealde lafe,
wrætlic wægsweord widcuðne man
heardecg habban; ic me mid Hruntinge

1491-1515

dom gewyrce, oþðe mec deað nimeð!'
Æfter þæm wordum Weder-Geata leod
efste mid elne,--- nalas andsware
bidan wolde; brimwylm onfeng
hilderince. Ða wæs hwil dæges,
ær he þone grundwong ongytan mehte.
Sona þæt onfunde se ðe floda begong
heorogifre beheold hund missera,
grim ond grædig, þæt þær gumena sum
ælwihta eard ufan cunnode.
Grap þa togeanes, guðrinc gefeng
atolan clommum; no þy ær in gescod
halan lice; hring utan ymbbearh,
þæt heo þone fyrdhom ðurhfon ne mihte,
locene leoðosyrcan laþan fingrum.
Bær þa seo brimwylf, þa heo to botme com,
hringa þengel to hofe sinum,
swa he ne mihte --- no he þæs modig wæs ---
wæpna gewealdan, ac hine wundra þæs fela
swencte on sunde, sædeor monig
hildetuxum heresyrcan bræc,
ehton aglæcan. Ða se eorl ongeat,
þæt he in niðsele nathwylcum wæs,
þær him nænig wæter wihte ne sceþede,
ne him for hrofsele hrinan ne mehte

1516-1541

færgripe flodes; fyrleoht geseah,
blacne leoman beorhte scinan.
Ongeat þa se goda grundwyrgenne,
merewif mihtig; mægenræs forgeaf
hildebille, hond sweng ne ofteah,
þæt hire on hafelan hringmæl agol
grædig guðleoð. Ða se gist onfand,
þæt se beadoleoma bitan nolde,
aldre sceþðan, ac seo ecg geswac
ðeodne æt þearfe; ðolode ær fela
hondgemota, helm oft gescær,
fæges fyrdhrægl; ða wæs forma sið
deorum madme, þæt his dom alæg.
Eft wæs anræd, nalas elnes læt,
mærða gemyndig mæg Hylaces:
wearp ða wundenmæl wrættum gebunden
yrre oretta, þæt hit on eorðan læg,
stið ond stylecg; strenge getruwode,
mundgripe mægenes. Swa sceal man don,
þonne he æt guðe gegan þenceð
longsumne lof; na ymb his lif cearað.
Gefeng þa be eaxle --- nalas for fæhðe mearn ---
Guð-Geata leod Grendles modor;
brægd þa beadwe heard, þa he gebolgen wæs,
feorhgeniðlan, þæt heo on flet gebeah.
Heo him eft hraþe andlean forgeald

1542-1565

grimman grapum ond him togeanes feng;
oferwearp þa werigmod wigena strengest,
feþecempa, þæt he on fylle wearð.
Ofsæt þa þone selegyst, ond hyre seax geteah
brad ond brunecg; wolde hire bearn wrecan,
angan eaferan. Him on eaxle læg
breostnet broden; þæt gebearh feore,
wið ord ond wið ecge ingang forstod.
Hæfde ða forsiðod sunu Ecgþeowes
under gynne grund, Geata cempa,
nemne him heaðobyrne helpe gefremede,
herenet hearde, --- ond halig God
geweold wigsigor; witig Drihten,
rodera Rædend hit on ryht gesced
yðelice, syþðan he eft astod.
XXIII Geseah ða on searwum sigeeadig bil,
eald sweord eotenisc ecgum þyhtig,
wigena weorðmynd; þæt wæs wæpna cyst, ---
buton hit wæs mare ðonne ænig mon oðer
to beadulace ætberan meahte,
God ond geatolic, giganta geweorc.
He gefeng þa fetelhilt, freca Scyldinga
hreoh ond heorogrim, hringmæl gebrægd
aldres orwena, yrringa sloh,

1566-1591

þæt hire wið halse heard grapode,
banhringas bræc; bil eal ðurhwod
fægne flæschoman; heo on flet gecrong,
sweord wæs swatig, secg weorce gefeh.
Lixte se leoma, leoht inne stod,
efne swa of hefene hadre scineð
rodores candel. He æfter recede wlat;
hwearf þa be wealle, wæpen hafenade
heard be hiltum Higelaces ðegn
yrre ond anræd, --- næs seo ecg fracod
hilderince, ac he hraþe wolde
Grendle forgyldan guðræsa fela
ðara þe he geworhte to West-Denum
oftor micle ðonne on ænne sið,
þonne he Hroðgares heorðgeneatas
sloh on sweofote, slæpende fræt
folces Denigea fyftyne men,
ond oðer swylc ut offerede,
laðlicu lac. He him þæs lean forgeald,
reþe cempa, to ðæs þe he on ræste geseah
guðwerigne Grendel licgan,
aldorleasne, swa him ær gescod
hild æt Heorote. Hra wide sprong,
syþðan he æfter deaðe drepe þrowade,
heorosweng heardne, ond hine þa heafde becearf.
Sona þæt gesawon snottre ceorlas,

1592-1616

þa ðe mid Hroðgare on holm wliton,
þæt wæs yðgeblond eal gemenged,
brim blode fah. Blondenfeaxe,
gomele ymb godne ongeador spræcon,
þæt hig þæs æðelinges eft ne wendon,
þæt he sigehreðig secean come
mærne þeoden; þa ðæs monige gewearð,
þæt hine seo brimwylf abroten hæfde.
Ða com non dæges. Næs ofgeafon
hwate Scyldingas; gewat him ham þonon
goldwine gumena. Gistas setan
modes seoce ond on mere staredon;
wiston ond ne wendon, þæt hie heora winedrihten
selfne gesawon. --- Þa þæt sweord ongan
æfter heaþoswate hildegicelum,
wigbil wanian; þæt wæs wundra sum,
þæt hit eal gemealt ise gelicost,
ðonne forstes bend Fæder onlæteð,
onwindeð wælrapas, se geweald hafað
sæla ond mæla; þæt is soð Metod.
Ne nom he in þæm wicum, Weder-Geata leod,
maðmæhta ma, þeh he þær monige geseah,
buton þone hafelan ond þa hilt somod
since fage; sweord ær gemealt,
forbarn brodenmæl; wæs þæt blod to þæs hat,

1617-1639

ættren ellorgæst, se þær inne swealt.
Sona wæs on sunde se þe ær æt sæcce gebad
wighryre wraðra, wæter up þurhdeaf;
wæron yðgebland eal gefælsod,
eacne eardas, þa se ellorgast
oflet lifdagas ond þas lænan gesceaft.
Com þa to lande lidmanna helm
swiðmod swymman; sælace gefeah,
mægenbyrþenne þara þe he him mid hæfde.
Eoden him þa togeanes, Gode þancodon,
ðryðlic þegna heap, þeodnes gefegon,
þæs þe hi hyne gesundne geseon moston.
Ða wæs of þæm hroran helm ond byrne
lungre alysed. Lagu drusade,
wæter under wolcnum, wældreore fag.
Ferdon forð þonon feþelastum
ferhþum fægne, foldweg mæton,
cuþe stræte; cyningbalde men
from þæm holmclife hafelan bæron
earfoðlice heora æghwæþrum
felamodigra; feower scoldon
on þæm wælstenge weorcum geferian
to þæm goldsele Grendles heafod, ---

1640-1650

oþ ðæt semninga to sele comon
frome fyrdhwate feowertyne
Geata gongan; gumdryhten mid
modig on gemonge meodowongas træd.
Ða com in gan ealdor ðegna,
dædcene mon dome gewurþad,
hæle hildedeor, Hroðgar gretan.
Þa wæs be feaxe on flet boren
Grendles heafod, þær guman druncon,
egeslic for eorlum ond þære idese mid,
wliteseon wrætlic; weras on sawon.1651-1662

XXIIII Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`Hwæt, we þe þas sælac, sunu Healfdenes,
leod Scyldinga, lustum brohton
tires to tacne, þe þu her to locast.
Ic þæt unsofte ealdre gedigde,
wigge under wætere, weorc geneþde
earfoðlice; ætrihte wæs
guð getwæfed, nymðe mec God scylde.
Ne meahte ic æt hilde mid Hruntinge
wiht gewyrcan, þeah þæt wæpen duge;
ac me geuðe ylda Waldend,
þæt ic on wage geseah wlitig hangian

1663-1684

ealdsweord eacen --- oftost wisode
winigea leasum ---, þæt ic ðy wæpne gebræd.
Ofsloh ða æt þære sæcce, þa me sæl ageald,
huses hyrdas. Þa þæt hildebil
forbarn brogdenmæl, swa þæt blod gesprang,
hatost heaþoswata. Ic þæt hilt þanan
feondum ætferede; fyrendæda wræc,
deaðcwealm Denigea, swa hit gedefe wæs.
Ic hit þe þonne gehate, þæt þu on Heorote most
sorhleas swefan mid þinra secga gedryht,
ond þegna gehwylc þinra leoda,
duguðe ond iogoþe, þæt þu him ondrædan ne þearft,
þeoden Scyldinga, on þa healfe,
aldorbealu eorlum, swa þu ær dydest.'
Ða wæs gylden hilt gamelum rince,
harum hildfruman, on hand gyfen,
enta ærgeweorc; hit on æht gehwearf
æfter deofla hryre Denigea frean,
wundorsmiþa geweorc; ond þa þas worold ofgeaf
gromheort guma, Godes andsaca,
morðres scyldig, ond his modor eac;
on geweald gehwearf woroldcyninga

1685-1708

ðæm selestan be sæm tweonum
ðara þe on Scedenigge sceattas dælde.
Hroðgar maðelode --- hylt sceawode,
ealde lafe, on ðæm wæs or writen
fyrngewinnes, syðþan flod ofsloh,
gifen geotende giganta cyn,
frecne geferdon; þæt wæs fremde þeod
ecean Dryhtne; him þæs endelean
þurh wæteres wylm Waldend sealde.
Swa wæs on ðæm scennum sciran goldes
þurh runstafas rihte gemearcod,
geseted ond gesæd, hwam þæt sweord geworht,
irena cyst ærest wære,
wreoþenhilt ond wyrmfah. Ða se wisa spræc
sunu Healfdenes --- swigedon ealle --- :
`Þæt. la, mæg secgan se þe soð ond riht
fremeð on folce, feor eal gemon,
eald eðelweard, þæt ðes eorl wære
geboren betera! Blæd is aræred
geond widwegas, wine min Beowulf,
ðin ofer þeoda gehwylce. Eal þu hit geþyldum healdest,
mægen mid modes snyttrum. Ic þe sceal mine gelæstan
freode, swa wit furðum spræcon. Ðu scealt to frofre weorþan
eal langtwidig leodum þinum,

1708-1731

hæleðum to helpe.
Ne wearð Heremod swa
eaforum Ecgwelan, Ar-Scyldingum;
ne geweox he him to willan, ac to wælfealle
ond to deaðcwalum Deniga leodum;
breat bolgenmod beodgeneatas,
eaxlgesteallan, oþ þæt he ana hwearf,
mære þeoden, mondreamum from,
ðeah þe hine mihtig God mægenes wynnum,
eafeþum stepte, ofer ealle men
forð gefremede. Hwæþere him on ferhþe greow
breosthord blodreow; nallas beagas geaf
Denum æfter dome; dreamleas gebad,
þæt he þæs gewinnes weorc þrowade,
leodbealo longsum. Ðu þe lær be þon,
gumcyste ongit! Ic þis gid be þe
awræc wintrum frod.
Wundor is to secganne,
hu mihtig God manna cynne
þurh sidne sefan snyttru bryttað,
eard ond eorlscipe; he ah ealra geweald.
Hwilum he on lufan læteð hworfan
monnes modgeþonc mæran cynnes,
seleð him on eþle eorþan wynne
to healdanne hleoburh wera,

1732-1751

gedeð him swa gewealdene worolde dælas,
side rice, þæt he his selfa ne mæg
his unsnyttrum ende geþencean.
Wunað he on wiste; no hine wiht dweleð
adl ne yldo, ne him inwitsorh
on sefan sweorceð, ne gesacu ohwær
ecghete eoweð, ac him eal worold
wendeð on willan; he þæt wyrse ne con --- ,
XXV oð þæt him on innan oferhygda dæl
weaxeð ond wridað; þonne se weard swefeð,
sawele hyrde; bið se slæp to fæst,
bisgum gebunden, bona swiðe neah,
se þe of flanbogan fyrenum sceoteð.
Þonne bið on hreþre under helm drepen
biteran stræle --- him bebeorgan ne con --- ,
wom wundorbebodum wergan gastes;
þinceð him to lytel, þæt he lange heold,
gytsað gromhydig, nallas on gylp seleð
fætte beagas, ond he þa forðgesceaft
forgyteð ond forgymeð, þæs þe him ær God sealde,

1752-1776

wuldres Waldend, weorðmynda dæl.
Hit on ende stæf eft gelimpeð,
þæt se lichoma læne gedreoseð,
fæge gefealleð; fehð oþer to,
se þe unmurnlice madmas dæleþ,
eorles ærgestreon, egesan ne gymeð.
Bebeorh þe ðone bealonið, Beowulf leofa,
secg betsta, ond þe þæt selre geceos,
ece rædas; oferhyda ne gym,
mære cempa! Nu is þines mægnes blæd
ane hwile; eft sona bið,
þæt þec adl oððe ecg eafoþes getwæfeð,
oððe fyres feng, oððe flodes wylm,
oððe gripe meces, oððe gares fliht,
oððe atol yldo; oððe eagena bearhtm
forsiteð ond forsworceð; semninga bið,
þæt ðec, dryhtguma, deað oferswyðeð.
Swa ic Hring-Dena hund missera
weold under wolcnum ond hig wigge beleac
manigum mægþa geond þysne middangeard,
æscum ond ecgum, þæt ic me ænigne
under swegles begong gesacan ne tealde.
Hwæt, me þæs on eþle edwenden cwom,
gyrn æfter gomene, seoþðan Grendel wearð,
ealdgewinna, ingenga min;

1777-1802

ic þære socne singales wæg
modceare micle. Þæs sig Metode þanc,
ecean Dryhtne, þæs ðe ic on aldre gebad,
þæt ic on þone hafelan heorodreorigne
ofer eald gewin eagum starige!
Ga nu to setle, symbelwynne dreoh
wiggeweorþad; unc sceal worn fela
maþma gemænra, siþðan morgen bið.'
Geat wæs glædmod, geong sona to,
setles neosan, swa se snottra heht.
Þa wæs eft swa ær ellenrofum,
fletsittendum fægere gereorded
niowan stefne.--- Nihthelm geswearc
deorc ofer dryhtgumum. Duguð eal aras;
wolde blondenfeax beddes neosan,
gamela Scylding. Geat unigmetes wel,
rofne randwigan restan lyste;
sona him seleþegn siðes wergum,
feorrancundum, forð wisade,
se for andrysnum ealle beweotede
þegnes þearfe, swylce þy dogore
heaþoliðende habban scoldon.
Reste hine þa rumheort; reced hliuade
geap ond goldfah; gæst inne swæf,
oþ þæt hrefn blaca heofones wynne
bliðheort bodode. Ða com beorht scacan

1803-1816

scima ofer sceadwa; scaþan onetton,
wæron æþelingas eft to leodum
fuse to farenne; wolde feor þanon
cuma collenferhð ceoles neosan.
Heht þa se hearda Hrunting beran
sunu Ecglafes, heht his sweord niman,
leoflic iren; sægde him þæs leanes þanc,
cwæð, he þone guðwine godne tealde,
wigcræftigne, nales wordum log
meces ecge; þæt wæs modig secg. ---
Ond þa siðfrome, searwum gearwe
wigend wæron; eode weorð Denum
æþeling to yppan, þær se oþer wæs,
hæle hildedeor Hroðgar grette.1817-1825

XXVI Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:
`Nu we sæliðend secgan willað
feorran cumene, þæt we fundiaþ
Higelac secan. Wæron her tela,
willum bewenede; þu us wel dohtest.
Gif ic þonne on eorþan owihte mæg
þinre modlufan maran tilian,
gumena dryhten, ðonne ic gyt dyde,
guðgeweorca, ic beo gearo sona.

1826-1849

Gif ic þæt gefricge ofer floda begang,
þæt þec ymbsittend egesan þywað,
swa þec hetende hwilum dydon,
ic ðe þusenda þegna bringe,
hæleþa to helpe. Ic on Higelace wat,
Geata dryhten, þeah ðe he geong sy,
folces hyrde, þæt he mec fremman wile
wordum ond weorcum, þæt ic þe wel herige
ond þe to geoce garholt bere,
mægenes fultum, þær ðe bið manna þearf.
Gif him þonne Hreþric to hofum Geata
geþingeð þeodnes bearn, he mæg þær fela
freonda findan; feorcyþðe beoð
selran gesohte þæm þe him selfa deah.'
Hroðgar maþelode him on andsware:
`Þe þa wordcwydas wigtig Drihten
on sefan sende; ne hyrde ic snotorlicor
on swa geongum feore guman þingian.
Þu eart mægenes strang, ond on mode frod,
wis wordcwida! Wen ic talige,
gif þæt gegangeð, þæt ðe gar nymeð,
hild heorugrimme, Hreþles eaferan,
adl oþðe iren ealdor ðinne,
folces hyrde, ond þu þin feorh hafast,

1850-1873

þæt þe Sæ-Geatas selran næbben
to geceosenne cyning ænigne,
hordweard hæleþa, gyf þu healdan wylt
maga rice. Me þin modsefa
licað leng swa wel, leofa Beowulf.
Hafast þu gefered, þæt þam folcum sceal,
Geata leodum ond Gar-Denum
sib gemæne, ond sacu restan,
inwitniþas, þe hie ær drugon,
wesan, þenden ic wealde widan rices,
maþmas gemæne, manig oþerne
godum gegrettan ofer ganotes bæð;
sceal hringnaca ofer heafu bringan
lac ond luftacen. Ic þa leode wat
ge wið feond ge wið freond fæste geworhte,
æghwæs untæle ealde wisan.'
Ða git him eorla hleo inne gesealde,
mago Healfdenes, maþmas twelfe;
het hine mid þæm lacum leode swæse
secean on gesyntum, snude eft cuman.
Gecyste þa cyning æþelum god,
þeoden Scyldinga ðegn betstan
ond be healse genam; hruron him tearas
blondenfeaxum. Him wæs bega wen

1874-1892

ealdum infrodum, oþres swiðor,
þæt hie seoððan no geseon moston,
modige on meþle. Wæs him se man to þon leof,
þæt he þone breostwylm forberan ne mehte;
ac him on hreþre hygebendum fæst
æfter deorum men dyrne langað
beorn wið blode. Him Beowulf þanan,
guðrinc goldwlanc græsmoldan træd
since hremig; sægenga bad
agendfrean, se þe on ancre rad.
Þa wæs on gang gifu Hroðgares
oft geæhted; þæt wæs an cyning
æghwæs orleahtre, oþ þæt hine yldo benam
mægenes wynnum, se þe oft manegum scod.

XXVII Cwom þa to flode felamodigra,
hægstealdra heap; hringnet bæron,
locene leoðosyrcan. Landweard onfand
eftsið eorla, swa he ær dyde;
no he mid hearme of hliðes nosan

1893-1913

gæstas grette, ac him togeanes rad,
cwæð þæt wilcuman Wedera leodum
scaþan scirhame to scipe foron.
Þa wæs on sande sægeap naca
hladen herewædum hringedstefna,
mearum ond maðmum; mæst hlifade
ofer Hroðgares hordgestreonum.
He þæm batwearde bunden golde
swurd gesealde, þæt he syðþan wæs
on meodubence maþme þy weorþra,
yrfelafe. Gewat him on naca
drefan deop wæter, Dena land ofgeaf.
Þa wæs be mæste merehrægla sum,
segl sale fæst; sundwudu þunede;
no þær wegflotan wind ofer yðum
siðes getwæfde; sægenga for,
fleat famigheals forð ofer yðe,
bundenstefna ofer brimstreamas,
þæt hie Geata clifu ongitan meahton,
cuþe næssas; ceol up geþrang
lyftgeswenced, on lande stod.

1914-1935

Hraþe wæs æt holme hyðweard geara,
se þe ær lange tid leofra manna
fus æt faroðe feor wlatode;
sælde to sande sidfæþme scip
oncerbendum fæst, þy læs hym yþa ðrym
wudu wynsuman forwrecan meahte.
Het þa up beran æþelinga gestreon,
frætwe ond fætgold; næs him feor þanon
to gesecanne sinces bryttan,
Higelac Hreþling, þær æt ham wunað
selfa mid gesiðum sæwealle neah.
Bold wæs betlic, bregorof cyning,
heah on healle, Hygd swiðe geong,
wis, welþungen, þeah ðe wintra lyt
under burhlocan gebiden hæbbe,
Hæreþes dohtor; næs hio hnah swa þeah,
ne to gneað gifa Geata leodum,
maþmgestreona. Modþryðo wæg,
fremu folces cwen, firen' ondrysne;
nænig þæt dorste deor geneþan
swæsra gesiða, nefne sinfrea,
þæt hire an dæges eagum starede;

1936-1957

ac him wælbende weotode tealde
handgewriþene; hraþe seoþðan wæs
æfter mundgripe mece geþinged,
þæt hit sceadenmæl scyran moste,
cwealmbealu cyðan. Ne bið swylc cwenlic þeaw
idese to efnanne, þeah ðe hio ænlicu sy,
þætte freoðuwebbe feores onsæce
æfter ligetorne leofne mannan.
Huru þæt onhohsnode Hemminges mæg:
ealodrincende oðer sædan,
þæt hio leodbealewa læs gefremede,
inwitniða, syððan ærest wearð
gyfen goldhroden geongum cempan,
æðelum diore, syððan hio Offan flet
ofer fealone flod be fæder lare
siðe gesohte; ðær hio syððan well
in gumstole, gode mære,
lifgesceafta lifigende breac,
hiold heahlufan wið hæleþa brego,
ealles moncynnes mine gefræge
þone selestan bi sæm tweonum,
eormencynnes; forðam Offa wæs

1958-1977

geofum ond guðum, garcene man,
wide geweorðod, wisdome heold
eðel sinne;--- þonon Eomer woc
hæleðum to helpe, Hemminges mæg,
nefa Garmundes, niða cræftig.
XXVIII Gewat him ða se hearda mid his hondscole
sylf æfter sande sæwong tredan,
wide waroðas. Woruldcandel scan,
sigel suðan fus. Hi sið drugon,
elne geeodon, to ðæs ðe eorla hleo,
bonan Ongenþeoes burgum in innan,
geongne guðcyning godne gefrunon
hringas dælan. Higelace wæs
sið Beowulfes snude gecyðed,
þæt ðær on worðig wigendra hleo,
lindgestealla lifigende cwom,
heaðolaces hal to hofe gongan.
Hraðe wæs gerymed, swa se rica bebead.
feðegestum flet innanweard.
Gesæt þa wið sylfne se ða sæcce genæs,

1978-1999

mæg wið mæge, syððan mandryhten
þurh hleoðorcwyde holdne gegrette,
meaglum wordum. Meoduscencum hwearf
geond þæt healreced Hæreðes dohtor,
lufode ða leode, liðwæge bær
hæleðum to handa. Higelac ongan
sinne geseldan in sele þam hean
fægre fricgcean, hyne fyrwet bræc,
hwylce Sæ-Geata siðas wæron:
`Hu lomp eow on lade, leofa Biowulf,
þa ðu færinga feorr gehogodest
sæcce secean ofer sealt wæter,
hilde to Hiorote? Ac ðu Hroðgare
widcuðne wean wihte gebettest,
mærum ðeodne? Ic ðæs modceare
sorhwylmum seað, siðe ne truwode
leofes mannes; ic ðe lange bæd,
þæt ðu þone wælgæst wihte ne grette,
lete Suð-Dene sylfe geweorðan
guðe wið Grendel. Gode ic þanc secge,
þæs ðe ic ðe gesundne geseon moste.'
Biowulf maðelode, bearn Ecgðioes:

2000-2018

`Þæt is undyrne, dryhten Higelac,
micel gemeting, monegum fira,
hwylc orleghwil uncer Grendles
wearð on ðæm wange, þær he worna fela
Sige-Scyldingum sorge gefremede,
yrmðe to aldre; ic ðæt eall gewræc,
swa begylpan ne þearf Grendeles maga
ænig ofer eorðan uhthlem þone,
se ðe lengest leofað laðan cynnes,
facne bifongen.--- Ic ðær furðum cwom
to ðam hringsele Hroðgar gretan;
sona me se mæra mago Healfdenes,
syððan he modsefan minne cuðe,
wið his sylfes sunu setl getæhte.
Weorod wæs on wynne; ne seah ic widan feorh
under heofones hwealf healsittendra
medudream maran. Hwilum mæru cwen,
friðusibb folca flet eall geondhwearf,
bædde byre geonge; oft hio beahwriðan

2019-2039

secge sealde, ær hie to setle geong.
Hwilum for duguðe dohtor Hroðgares
eorlum on ende ealuwæge bær,
þa ic Freaware fletsittende
nemnan hyrde, þær hio nægledsinc
hæleðum sealde. Sio gehaten is,
geong goldhroden, gladum suna Frodan;
hafað þæs geworden wine Scyldinga,
rices hyrde, ond þæt ræd talað,
þæt he mid ðy wife wælfæhða dæl,
sæcca gesette. Oft seldan hwær
æfter leodhryre lytle hwile
bongar bugeð, þeah seo bryd duge!
Mæg þæs þonne ofþyncan ðeodne Heaðo-Beardna
ond þegna gehwam þara leoda,
þonne he mid fæmnan on flett gæð,
dryhtbearn Dena, duguða biwenede;
on him gladiað gomelra lafe,
heard ond hringmæl Heaða-Beardna gestreon,
þenden hie ðam wæpnum wealdan moston, ---2039-2041

XXVIIII-XXX oð ðæt hie forlæddan to ðam lindplegan
swæse gesiðas ond hyra sylfra feorh.
Þonne cwið æt beore se ðe beah gesyhð,

2042-2061

eald æscwiga, se ðe eall geman,
garcwealm gumena --- him bið grim sefa --- ,
onginneð geomormod geongum cempan
þurh hreðra gehygd higes cunnian,
wigbealu weccean, ond þæt word acwyð:
"Meaht ðu, min wine, mece gecnawan,
þone þin fæder to gefeohte bær
under heregriman hindeman siðe,
dyre iren, þær hyne Dene slogon,
weoldon wælstowe, syððan Wiðergyld læg,
æfter hæleþa hryre, hwate Scyldungas?
Nu her þara banena byre nathwylces
frætwum hremig on flet gæð,
morðres gylpeð, ond þone maðþum byreð,
þone þe ðu mid rihte rædan sceoldest."
Manað swa ond myndgað mæla gehwylce
sarum wordum, oð ðæt sæl cymeð,
þæt se fæmnan þegn fore fæder dædum
æfter billes bite blodfag swefeð,
ealdres scyldig; him se oðer þonan

2062-2084

losað lifigende, con him land geare.
Þonne bioð abrocene on ba healfe
aðsweord eorla; syððan Ingelde
weallað wælniðas, ond him wiflufan
æfter cearwælmum colran weorðað.
Þy ic Heaðo-Beardna hyldo ne telge,
dryhtsibbe dæl Denum unfæcne,
freondscipe fæstne.

Ic sceal forð sprecan
gen ymbe Grendel, þæt ðu geare cunne,
sinces brytta, to hwan syððan wearð
hondræs hæleða. Syððan heofones gim
glad ofer grundas, gæst yrre cwom,
eatol æfengrom user neosan,
ðær we gesunde sæl weardodon.
Þær wæs Hondscio hild onsæge,
feorhbealu fægum; he fyrmest læg,
gyrded cempa; him Grendel wearð,
mærum maguþegne to muðbonan,
leofes mannes lic eall forswealg.
No ðy ær ut ða gen idelhende
bona blodigtoð, bealewa gemyndig,
of ðam goldsele gongan wolde;
ac he mægnes rof min costode,

2085-2105

grapode gearofolm. Glof hangode
sid ond syllic, searobendum fæst;
sio wæs orðoncum eall gegyrwed
deofles cræftum ond dracan fellum.
He mec þær on innan unsynnigne,
dior dædfruma gedon wolde
manigra sumne; hyt ne mihte swa,
syððan ic on yrre uppriht astod.
To lang ys to reccenne, hu ic ðam leodsceaðan
yfla gehwylces ondlean forgeald;
þær ic, þeoden min, þine leode
weorðode weorcum. He on weg losade,
lytle hwile lifwynna breac;
hwæþre him sio swiðre swaðe weardade
hand on Hiorte, ond he hean ðonan,
modes geomor meregrund gefeoll.
Me þone wælræs wine Scildunga
fættan golde fela leanode,
manegum maðmum, syððan mergen com,
ond we to symble geseten hæfdon.
Þær wæs gidd ond gleo; gomela Scilding,

2106-2126

felafricgende feorran rehte;
hwilum hildedeor hearpan wynne,
gomenwudu grette, hwilum gyd awræc
soð ond sarlic, hwilum syllic spell
rehte æfter rihte rumheort cyning;
hwilum eft ongan eldo gebunden,
gomel guðwiga gioguðe cwiðan,
hildestrengo; hreðer inne weoll,
þonne he wintrum frod worn gemunde.
Swa we þær inne andlangne dæg
niode naman, oð ðæt niht becwom
oðer to yldum. Þa wæs eft hraðe
gearo gyrnwræce Grendeles modor,
siðode sorhfull; sunu deað fornam,
wighete Wedra. Wif unhyre
hyre bearn gewræc, beorn acwealde
ellenlice; þær wæs Æschere,
frodan fyrnwitan feorh uðgenge.
Noðer hy hine ne moston, syððan mergen cwom,
deaðwerigne, Denia leode,
bronde forbærnan, ne on b,el hladan,

2127-2145

leofne mannan; hio þæt lic ætbær
feondes fæðmum under firgenstream.
Þæt wæs Hroðgare hreowa tornost
þara þe leodfruman lange begeate.
Þa se ðeoden mec ðine life
healsode hreohmod, þæt ic on holma geþring
eorlscipe efnde, ealdre geneðde,
mærðo fremede; he me mede gehet.
Ic ða ðæs wælmes, þe is wide cuð,
grimne gryrelicne grundhyrde fond.
Þær unc hwile wæs hand gemæne;
holm heolfre weoll, ond ic heafde becearf
in ðam guðsele Grendeles modor
eacnum ecgum; unsofte þonan
feorh oðferede; næs ic fæge þa gyt;
ac me eorla hleo eft gesealde
maðma menigeo, maga Healfdenes.
XXXI Swa se ðeodkyning þeawum lyfde;
nealles ic ðam leanum forloren hæfde,

2146-2165

mægnes mede, ac he me maðmas geaf,
sunu Healfdenes on minne sylfes dom;
ða ic ðe, beorncyning, bringan wylle,
estum geywan. Gen is eall æt ðe
lissa gelong; ic lyt hafo
heafodmaga nefne, Hygelac, ðec.'
Het ða in beran eafor heafodsegn,
heaðosteapne helm, hare byrnan,
guðsweord geatolic, gyd æfter wræc:
`Me ðis hildesceorp Hroðgar sealde,
snotra fengel; sume worde het,
þæt ic his ærest ðe est gesægde;
cwæð þæt hyt hæfde Hiorogar cyning,
leod Scyldunga lange hwile;
no ðy ær suna sinum syllan wolde,
hwatum Heorowearde, þeah he him hold wære,
breostgewædu. Bruc ealles well!'
Hyrde ic þæt þam frætwum feower mearas
lungre, gelice last weardode,
æppelfealuwe; he him est geteah

2166-2185

meara ond maðma.--- Swa sceal mæg don,
nealles inwitnet oðrum bregdon
dyrnum cræfte, deað renian
hondgesteallan. Hygelace wæs,
niða heardum nefa swyðe hold,
ond gehwæðer oðrum hroþra gemyndig. ---
Hyrde ic þæt he ðone healsbeah Hygde gesealde,
wrætlicne wundurmaððum, ðone þe him Wealhðeo geaf,
ðeodnes dohtor, þrio wicg somod
swancor ond sadolbeorht; hyre syððan wæs
æfter beahðege breost geweorðod.
Swa bealdode bearn Ecgðeowes,
guma guðum cuð, godum dædum,
dreah æfter dome; nealles druncne slog
heorðgeneatas; næs him hreoh sefa,
ac he mancynnes mæste cræfte
ginfæstan gife, þe him God sealde,
heold hildedeor. Hean wæs lange,
swa hyne Geata bearn godne ne tealdon,
ne hyne on medobence micles wyrðne

2186-2206

drihten Wedera gedon wolde;
swyðe wendon, þæt he sleac wære,
æðeling unfrom. Edwenden cwom
tireadigum menn torna gehwylces.---
Het ða eorla hleo in gefetian,
heaðorof cyning Hreðles lafe
golde gegyrede; næs mid Geatum ða
sincmaðþum selra on sweordes had;
þæt he on Biowulfes bearm alegde,
ond him gesealde seofan þusendo,
bold ond bregostol. Him wæs bam samod
on ðam leodscipe lond gecynde,
eard eðelriht, oðrum swiðor
side rice þam ðær selra wæs.
Eft þæt geiode ufaran dogrum
hildehlæmmum, syððan Hygelac læg,
ond Heardrede hildemeceas
under bordhreoðan to bonan wurdon,
ða hyne gesohtan on sigeþeode
hearde hildfrecan, Heaðo-Scilfingas,
niða genægdan nefan Hererices ---:

2207-2220

syððan Beowulfe brade rice
on hand gehwearf; he geheold tela
fiftig wintra --- wæs ða frod cyning,
eald eþelweard --- , oð ðæt an ongan
deorcum nihtum draca ricsian,
se ðe on heaum hæþe hord beweotode,
stanbeorh steapne; stig under læg
eldum uncuð. Þær on innan giong
niðða nathwylc, se ðe neh gefealg
hæðnum horde, hond wæge nam,
sid, since fah; ne he þæt syððan bemað,
þeah ðe he slæpende besyred wurde
þeofes cræfte; þæt sie ðiod onfand,
bigfolc beorna, þæt he gebolgen wæs.

2221-2228

XXXII Nealles mid gewealdum wyrmhord abræc,
sylfes willum, se ðe him sare gesceod,
ac for þreanedlan þeow nathwylces
hæleða bearna heteswengeas fleah,
ærnes þearfa, ond ðær inne fealh,
secg synbysig. Sona mwatide
þæt :::::ðam gyste gryrebroga stod;
hwæðre earmsceapen . . . . . . . .

2229-2251
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . sceapen
. . . . . . . þa hyne se fær begeat.
Sincfæt . . . . . Þær wæs swylcra fela
in ðam eorðhuse ærgestreona,
swa hy on geardagum gumena nathwylc,
eormenlafe æþelan cynnes,
þanchycgende þær gehydde,
deore maðmas. Ealle hie deað fornam
ærran mælum, ond se an ða gen
leoda duguðe, se ðær lengest hwearf,
weard winegeomor, wende þæs ylcan,
þæt he lytel fæc longgestreona
brucan moste. Beorh eallgearo
wunode on wonge wæteryðum neah,
niwe be næsse, nearocræftum fæst;
þær on innan bær eorlgestreona
hringa hyrde hordwyrðne dæl,
fættan goldes, fea worda cwæð:
`Heald þu nuhruse ,, nu hæleð ne mostan,
eorla æhte! Hwæt, hyt ær on ðe
gode begeaton; guðdeað fornam,
feorhbealo frecne, fyra gehwylcne
leoda minra þara ðe þis lif ofgeaf,

2252-2274

gesawon seledream. Nah, hwa sweord wege
oððe feormie fæted wæge,
dryncfæt deore; duguð ellor sceoc.
Sceal se hearda helm hyrsted golde,
fætum befeallen; feormynd swefað,
þa ðe beadogriman bywan sceoldon;
ge swylce seo herepad, sio æt hilde gebad
ofer borda gebræc bite irena,
brosnað æfter beorne. Ne mæg byrnan hring
æfter wigfruman wide feran,
hæleðum be healfe. Næs hearpan wyn,
gomen gleobeames, ne god hafoc
geond sæl swingeð, ne se swifta mearh
burhstede beateð. Bealocwealm hafað
fela feorhcynna forð onsended!'
Swa giomormod giohðo mænde
an æfter eallum, unbliðe hwearf
dæges ond nihtes, oð ðæt deaðes wylm
hran æt heortan. Hordwynne fond
eald uhtsceaða opene standan,
se ðe byrnende biorgas seceð,
nacod niðdraca, nihtes fleogeð
fyre befangen; hyne foldbuend

2275-2295

swiðe ondrædað. He gesecean sceall
hord on hrusan, þær he hæðen gold
warað wintrum frod; ne byð him wihte ðy sel.
Swa se ðeodsceaða þreo hund wintra
heold on hrusan hordærna sum
eacencræftig, oð ð æt hyne an abealch
mon on mode; mandryhtne bær
fæted wæge, frioðowære bæd
hlaford sinne. Ða wæs hord rasod,
onboren beaga hord, bene getiðad
feasceaftum men; Frea sceawode
fira fyrngeweorc forman siðe. ---
Þa se wyrm onwoc, wroht wæs geniwad;
stonc ða æfter stane, stearcheort onfand
feondes fotlast; he to forð gestop
dyrnan cræfte dracan heafde neah.
Swa mæg unfæge eaðe gedigan
wean ond wræcsið se ðe Waldendes
hyldo gehealdeþ! Hordweard sohte
georne æfter grunde, wolde guman findan,
þone þe him on sweofote sare geteode;

2296-2315

hat ond hreohmod hlæw oft ymbehwearf
ealne utanweardne; ne ðær ænig mon
on þære westenne, --- hwæðre wiges gefeh,
beaduwe weorces; hwilum on beorh æthwearf,
sincfæt sohte; he þæt sona onfand,
ðæt hæfde gumena sum goldes gefandod,
heahgestreona. Hordweard onbad
earfoðlice, oð ðæt æfen cwom;
wæs ða gebolgen beorges hyrde,
wolde se laða lige forgyldan
drincfæt dyre. Þa wæs dæg sceacen
wyrme on willan; no on wealle læng,
bidan wolde, ac mid bæle for,
fyre gefysed. Wæs se fruma egeslic
leodum on lande, swa hyt lungre wearð
on hyra sincgifan sare geendod.
XXXIII Ða se gæst ongan gledum spiwan,
beorht hogu bærnan, --- byrneleoma stod
eldum on andan; no ðær aht cwices
lað lyftfloga læfan wolde.

2316-2338

Wæs þæs wyrmes wig wide gesyne,
nearofages nið nean ond feorran,
hu se guðsceaða Geata leode
hatode ond hynde; hord eft gesceat,
dryhtsele dyrnne ær dæges hwile.
Hæfde landwara lige befangen,
bæle ond bronde; beorges getruwode,
wiges ond wealles; him seo wen geleah.
Þa wæs Biowulfe broga gecyðed
snude to soðe, þæt his sylfes ham,
bolda selest, brynewylmum mealt,
gifstol Geata. Þæt ðam godan wæs
hreow on hreðre, hygesorga mæst;
wende se wisa, þæt he Wealdende
ofer ealde riht ecean Dryhtne
bitre gebulge; breost innan weoll
þeostrum geþoncum, swa him geþywe ne wæs.
Hæfde ligdraca leoda fæsten,
ealond utan, eorðweard ðone
gledum forgrunden; him ðæs guðkyning,
Wedera þioden wræce leornode.
Heht him þa gewyrcean wigendra hleo
eallirenne, eorla dryhten,

2339-2361

wigbord wrætlic; wisse he gearwe,
þæt him holtwudu helpan ne meahte,
lind wið lige. Sceolde lændaga
æþeling ærgod ende gebidan,
worulde lifes, ond se wyrm somod,
þeah ðe hordwelan heolde lange.
Oferhogode ða hringa fengel,
þæt he þone widflogan weorode gesohte,
sidan herge; no he him þa sæcce ondred,
ne him þæs wyrmes wig for wiht dyde,
eafoð ond ellen, forðon he ær fela
nearo neðende niða gedigde,
hildehlemma, syððan he Hroðgares,
sigoreadig secg, sele fælsode,
ond æt guðe forgrap Grendeles mægum
laðan cynnes. No þæt læsest wæs
hondgemota, þær mon Hygelac sloh,
syððan Geata cyning guðe ræsum,
freawine folca Freslondum on,
Hreðles eafora hiorodryncum swealt,
bille gebeaten. Þonan Biowulf com
sylfes cræfte, sundnytte dreah;
hæfde him on earme ana þritig

2362-2383

hildegeatwa, þa he to holme stag.
Nealles Hetware hremge þorfton
feðewiges, þe him foran ongean
linde bæron; lyt eft becwom
fram þam hildfrecan hames niosan!
Oferswam ða sioleða bigong sunu Ecgðeowes,
earm anhaga, eft to leodum;
þær him Hygd gebead hord ond rice,
beagas ond bregostol; bearne ne truwode,
þæt he wið ælfylcum eþelstolas
healdan cuðe, ða wæs Hygelac dead.
No ðy ær feasceafte findan meahton
æt ðam æðelinge ænige ðinga,
þæt he Heardrede hlaford wære,
oððe þone cynedom ciosan wolde;
hwæðre he hine on folce freondlarum heold,
estum mid are, oð ðæt he yldra wearð,
Weder-Geatum weold. Hyne wræcmæcgas
ofer sæ sohtan, suna Ohteres;
hæfdon hy forhealden helm Scylfinga,
þone selestan sæcyninga
þara ðe in Swiorice sinc brytnade,

2384-2390

mærne þeoden. Him þæt to mearce wearð;
he þær for feorme feorhwunde hleat,
sweordes swengum, sunu Hygelaces;
ond him eft gewat Ongenðioes bearn
hames niosan, syððan Heardred læg,
let ðone bregostol Biowulf healdan,
Geatum wealdan; þæt wæs god cyning.

2391-2404

XXXIIII Se ðæs leodhryres lean gemunde
uferan dogrum, Eadgilse wearð
feasceaftum freond; folce gestepte
ofer sæ side sunu Ohteres,
wigum ond wæpnum; he gewræc syððan
cealdum cearsiðum, cyning ealdre bineat.
Swa he niða gehwane genesen hæfde,
sliðra geslyhta, sunu Ecgðiowes,
ellenweorca, oð ðone anne dæg,
þe he wið þam wyrme gewegan sceolde.
Gewat þa twelfa sum torne gebolgen
dryhten Geata dracan sceawian;
hæfde þa gefrunen hwanan sio fæhð aras,
bealonið biorna; him to bearme cwom

2405-2427

maðþumfæt mære þurh ðæs meldan hond.
Se wæs on ðam ðreate þreotteoða secg,
se ðæs orleges or onstealde,
hæft hygegiomor, sceolde hean ðonon
wong wisian. He ofer willan giong
to ðæs ðe he eorðsele anne wisse,
hlæw under hrusan holmwylme neh,
yðgewinne; se wæs innan full
wrætta ond wira. Weard unhiore,
gearo guðfreca, goldmaðmas heold
eald under eorðan; næs þæt yðe ceap
to gegangenne gumena ænigum.
Gesæt ða on næsse niðheard cyning;
þenden hælo abead heorðgeneatum,
goldwine Geata. Him wæs geomor sefa,
wæfre ond wælfus, wyrd ungemete neah,
se ðone gomelan gretan sceolde,
secean sawle hord, sundur gedælan
lif rið lice; no þon lange wæs
feorh æþelinges flæsce bewunden.
Biowulf maþelade, bearn Ecgðeowes:
`Fela ic on giogoðe guðræsa genæs,
orleghwila; ic þæt eall gemon.

2428-2450
Ic wæs syfanwintre, þa mec sinca baldor,
freawine folca æt minum fæder genam;
heold mec ond hæfde Hreðel cyning,
geaf me sinc ond symbel, sibbe gemunde;
næs ic him to life laðra owihte,
beorn in burgum, þonne his bearna hwylc,
Herebeald ond Hæðcyn oððe Hygelac min.
Wæs þam yldestan ungedefelice
mæges dædum morþorbed stred,
syððan hyne Hæðcyn of hornbogan,
his freawine flane geswencte,
miste mercelses ond his mæg ofscet,
broðor oðerne blodigan gare.
Þæt wæs feohleas gefeoht, fyrenum gesyngad,
hreðre hygemeðe; sceolde hwæðre swa þeah
æðeling unwrecen ealdres linnan.
Swa bið geomorlic gomelum ceorle
to gebidanne, þæt his byre ride
giong on galgan; þonne he gyd wrece,
sarigne sang, þonne his sunu hangað
hrefne to hroðre, ond he him helpe ne mæg
eald ond infrod ænige gefremman.
Symble bið gemyndgad morna gehwylce

2451-2471

eaforan ellorsið; oðres ne gymeð
to gebidanne burgum in innan
yrfeweardas, þonne se an hafað
þurh deaðes nyd dæda gefondad.
Gesyhð sorhcearig on his suna bure
winsele westne, windge reste
reote berofene, --- Ridend swefað,
hæleð in hoðman; nis þær hearpan sweg,
gomen in geardum, swylce ðær iu wæron.
XXXV Gewiteð þonne on sealman, sorhleoð gæleð
an æfter anum; þuhte him eall to rum,
wongas ond wicstede. Swa Wedra helm
æfter Herebealde heortan sorge
weallinde wæg; wihte ne meahte
on ðam feorhbonan fæghðe gebetan;
no ðy ær he þone heaðorinc hatian ne meahte
laðum dædum, þeah him leof ne wæs.
He ða mid þære sorhge, þe him to sar belamp,
gumdream ofgeaf, Godes leoht geceas;
eaferum læfde, swa deð eadig mon,
lond ond leodbyrig, þa he of life gewat.

2472-2495

Þa wæs synn ond sacu Sweona ond Geata
ofer wid wæter, wroht gemæne,
herenið hearda, syððan Hreðel swealt,
oððe him Ongenðeowes eaferan wæran
frome fyrdhwate, freode ne woldon
ofer heafo healdan, ac ymb Hreosnabeorh
eatolne inwitscear oft gefremedon.
Þæt mægwine mine gewræcan,
fæhðe ond fyrene, swa hyt gefræge wæs,
þeah ðe oðer his ealdre gebohte,
heardan ceape; Hæðcynne wearð,
Geata dryhtne, guð onsæge.
Þa ic on morgne gefrægn mæg oðerne
billes ecgum on bonan stælan,
þær Ongenþeow Eofores niosað;
guðhelm toglad, gomela Scylfing
hreas heoroblac; hond gemunde
fæhðo genoge, feorhsweng ne ofteah.
Ic him þa maðmas, þe he me sealde,
geald æt guðe, swa me gifeðe wæs,
leohtan sweorde; he me lond forgeaf,
eard eðelwyn. Næs him ænig þearf,
þæt he to Gifðum oððe to Gar-Denum
oððe in Swiorice secean þurfe

2496-2519

wyrsan wigfrecan, weorðe gecyþan;
symle ic him on feðan beforan wolde,
ana on orde, ond swa to aldre sceall
sæcce fremman, þenden þis sweord þolað,
þæt mec ær ond sið oft gelæste,
syððan ic for dugeðum Dæghrefne wearð
to handbonan, Huga cempan; ---
nalles he ða frætwe Frescyninge,
breostweorðunge, bringan moste,
ac in campe gecrong cumbles hyrde,
æþeling on elne; ne wæs ecg bona,
ac him hildegrap heortan wylmas,
banhus gebræc. Nu sceall billes ecg,
hond ond heard sweord ymb hord wigan.'
Beowulf maðelode, beotwordum spræc
niehstan siðe: `Ic geneðde fela
guða on geogoðe; gyt ic wylle,
frod folces weard fæhðe secan,
mærðu fremman, gif mec se mansceaða
of eorðsele ut geseceð.'
Gegrette ða gumena gehwylcne,
hwate helmberend hindeman siðe,
swæse gesiðas: `Nolde ic sweord beran,
wæpen to wyrme, gif ic wiste hu

2520-2542

wið ðam aglæcean elles meahte
gylpe wiðgripan, swa ic gio wið Grendle dyde;
ac ic ðær heaðufyres hates wene,
oreðes ond attres; forðon ic me on hafu
bord ond byrnan. Nelle ic beorges weard
oferfleon fotes trem, ac unc furður sceal
weorðan æt wealle, swa unc wyrd geteoð,
Metod manna gehwæs. Ic eom on mode from,
þæt ic wið þone guðflogan gylp ofersitte.
Gebide ge on beorge byrnum werede,
secgas on searwum, hwæðer sel mæge
æfter wælræse wunde gedygan
uncer twega. Nis þæt eower sið,
ne gemet mannes, nefne min anes,
þæt he wið aglæcean eofoðo dæle,
eorlscype efne. Ic mid elne sceall
gold gegangan, oððe guð nimeð,
feorhbealu frecne, frean eowerne!'
Aras ða bi ronde rof oretta,
heard under helme, hiorosercean bær
under stancleofu, strengo getruwode
anes mannes; ne bið swylc earges sið!
Geseah ða be wealle se ðe worna fela

2543-2565

gumcystum god guða gedigde,
hildehlemma, þonne hnitan feðan,
stondan stanbogan, stream ut þonan
brecan of beorge; wæs þære burnan wælm
heaðofyrum hat, ne meahte horde neah
unbyrnende ænige hwile
deop gedygan for dracan lege.
Let ða of breostum, ða he gebolgen wæs,
Weder-Geata leod word ut faran,
stearcheort styrmde; stefn in becom
heaðotorht hlynnan under harne stan.
Hete wæs onhrered, hordweard oncniow
mannes reorde; næs ðær mara fyrst
freode to friclan. From ærest cwom
oruð aglæcean ut of stane,
hat hildeswat; hruse dynede.
Biorn under beorge bordrand onswaf
wið ðam gryregieste, Geata dryhten;
ða wæs hringbogan heorte gefysed
sæcce to seceanne. Sweord ær gebræd
god guðcyning, gomele lafe,
ecgum unslaw; æghwæðrum wæs
bealohycgendra broga fram oðrum.

2566-2589

Stiðmod gestod wið steapne rond
winia bealdor, ða se wyrm gebeah
snude tosomne; he on searwum bad.
Gewat ða byrnende gebogen scriðan,
to gescipe scyndan. Scyld wel gebearg
life ond lice læssan hwile
mærum þeodne, þonne his myne sohte,
ðær he þy fyrste forman dogore
wealdan moste, swa him wyrd ne gescraf
hreð æt hilde. Hond up abræd
Geata dryhten, gryrefahne sloh
incge-lafe, þæt sio ecg gewac
brun on bane, bat unswiðor,
þonne his ðiodcyning þearfe hæfde
bysigum gebæded. Þa wæs beorges weard
æfter heaðuswenge on hreoum mode,
wearp wælfyre; wide sprungon
hildeleoman. Hreðsigora ne gealp
goldwine Geata; guðbill geswac,
nacod æt niðe, swa hyt no sceolde,
iren ærgod. --- Ne wæs þæt eðe sið,
þæt se mæra maga Ecgðeowes
grundwong þone ofgyfan wolde;
sceolde ofer willan wic eardian

2590-2601

elles hwergen, swa sceal æghwylc mon
alætan lændagas. Næs ða long to ðon,
þæt ða aglæcean hy eft gemetton.
Hyrte hyne hordweard, hreðer æðme weoll,
niwan stefne; nearo ðrowode
fyre befongen se ðe ær folce weold.
Nealles him on heape handgesteallan,
æðelinga bearn ymbe gestodon
hildecystum, ac hy on holt bugon,
ealdre burgan. Hiora in anum weoll
sefa wið sorgum; sibb æfre ne mæg

Source.

This is the Klaeber edition of the text, first published as Beowulf and The fight at Finnsburg; edited, with introduction, bibliography, notes, glossary, and appendices, by Fr. Klaeber. Boston, New York [etc.] D.C. Heath & Co. [c1922].

This text is part of the Internet Medieval Source Book. The Sourcebook is a collection of public domain and copy-permitted texts related to medieval and Byzantine history.

Unless otherwise indicated the specific electronic form of the document is copyright. Permission is granted for electronic copying, distribution in print form for educational purposes and personal use. If you do reduplicate the document, indicate the source. No permission is granted for commercial use.

© Paul Halsall, August 1998
halsall@murray.fordham.edu

Table of Contents

Beowulf (in Modern English)

Beowulf (in Old English)