The Dragon Megapack

by Wildside Press

  Heard I that Elan queen was she of Ongentheow,

  That Scylding of battle, the bed-mate behalsed.

  Then was unto Hrothgar the war-speed given,

  Such worship of war that his kin and well-willers

  Well hearken’d his will till the younglings were waxen,

  A kin-host a many. Then into his mind ran

  That he would be building for him now a hall-house,

  That men should be making a mead-hall more mighty

  Than the children of ages had ever heard tell of:

  And there within eke should he be out-dealing

  To young and to old all things God had given,

  Save the share of the folk and the life-days of men.

  Then heard I that widely the work was a-banning

  To kindreds a many the Middle-garth over

  To fret o’er that folk-stead. So befell to him timely

  Right soon among men that made was it yarely

  The most of hall-houses, and Hart its name shap’d he,

  Who wielded his word full widely around.

  His behest he belied not; it was he dealt the rings,

  The wealth at the high-tide. Then up rose the hall-house,

  High up and horn-gabled. Hot surges it bided

  Of fire-flame the loathly, nor long was it thenceforth

  Ere sorely the edge-hate ’twixt Son and Wife’s Father

  After the slaughter-strife there should awaken.

  Then the ghost heavy-strong bore with it hardly

  E’en for a while of time, bider in darkness,

  That there on each day of days heard he the mirth-tide

  Loud in the hall-house. There was the harp’s voice,

  And clear song of shaper. Said he who could it

  To tell the first fashion of men from aforetime;

  Quoth how the Almighty One made the Earth’s fashion,

  The fair field and bright midst the bow of the Waters,

  And with victory beglory’d set Sun and Moon,

  Bright beams to enlighten the biders on land:

  And how he adorned all parts of the earth

  With limbs and with leaves; and life withal shaped

  For the kindred of each thing that quick on earth wendeth.

  So liv’d on all happy the host of the kinsmen

  In game and in glee, until one wight began,

  A fiend out of hell-pit, the framing of evil,

  And Grendel forsooth the grim guest was hight,

  The mighty mark-strider, the holder of moorland,

  The fen and the fastness. The stead of the fifel

  That wight all unhappy a while of time warded,

  Sithence that the Shaper him had for-written.

  On the kindred of Cain the Lord living ever

  Awreaked the murder of the slaying of Abel.

  In that feud he rejoic’d not, but afar him He banish’d,

  The Maker, from mankind for the crime he had wrought.

  But offspring uncouth thence were they awoken

  Eotens and elf-wights, and ogres of ocean,

  And therewith the Giants, who won war against God

  A long while; but He gave them their wages therefor.

  III. HOW GRENDEL FELL UPON HART AND WASTED IT.

  Now went he a-spying, when come was the night-tide,

  The house on high builded, and how there the Ring-Danes

  Their beer-drinking over had boune them to bed;

  And therein he found them, the atheling fellows,

  Asleep after feasting. Then sorrow they knew not

  Nor the woe of mankind: but the wight of wealth’s waning,

  The grim and the greedy, soon yare was he gotten,

  All furious and fierce, and he raught up from resting

  A thirty of thanes, and thence aback got him

  Right fain of his gettings, and homeward to fare,

  Fulfilled of slaughter his stead to go look on.

  Thereafter at dawning, when day was yet early,

  The war-craft of Grendel to men grew unhidden,

  And after his meal was the weeping uphoven,

  Mickle voice of the morning-tide: there the Prince mighty,

  The Atheling exceeding good, unblithe he sat,

  Tholing the heavy woe; thane-sorrow dreed he

  Since the slot of the loathly wight there they had look’d on,

  The ghost all accursed. O’er grisly the strife was,

  So loathly and longsome. No longer the frist was

  But after the wearing of one night; then fram’d he

  Murder-bales more yet, and nowise he mourned

  The feud and the crime; over fast therein was he.

  Then easy to find was the man who would elsewhere

  Seek out for himself a rest was more roomsome,

  Beds end-long the bowers, when beacon’d to him was,

  And soothly out told by manifest token,

  The hate of the hell-thane. He held himself sithence

  Further and faster who from the fiend gat him.

  In such wise he rul’d it and wrought against right,

  But one against all, until idle was standing

  The best of hall-houses; and mickle the while was,

  Twelve winter-tides’ wearing; and trouble he tholed,

  That friend of the Scyldings, of woes every one

  And wide-spreading sorrows: for sithence it fell

  That unto men’s children unbidden ’twas known

  Full sadly in singing, that Grendel won war

  ’Gainst Hrothgar a while of time, hate-envy waging,

  And crime-guilts and feud for seasons no few,

  And strife without stinting. For the sake of no kindness

  Unto any of men of the main-host of Dane-folk

  Would he thrust off the life-bale, or by fee-gild allay it,

  Nor was there a wise man that needed to ween

  The bright boot to have at the hand of the slayer.

  The monster the fell one afflicted them sorely,

  That death-shadow darksome the doughty and youthful

  Enfettered, ensnared; night by night was he faring

  The moorlands the misty. But never know men

  Of spell-workers of Hell to and fro where they wander.

  So crime-guilts a many the foeman of mankind,

  The fell alone-farer, fram’d oft and full often,

  Cruel hard shames and wrongful, and Hart he abode in,

  The treasure-stain’d hall, in the dark of the night-tide;

  But never the gift-stool therein might he greet,

  The treasure before the Creator he trow’d not.

  Mickle wrack was it soothly for the friend of the Scyldings,

  Yea heart and mood breaking. Now sat there a many

  Of the mighty in rune, and won them the rede

  Of what thing for the strong-soul’d were best of all things

  Which yet they might frame ’gainst the fear and the horror.

  And whiles they behight them at the shrines of the heathen

  To worship the idols; and pray’d they in words,

  That he, the ghost-slayer, would frame for them helping

  ‘Gainst the folk-threats and evil So far’d they their wont,

  The hope of the heathen; nor hell they remember’d

  In mood and in mind. And the Maker they knew not,

  The Doomer of deeds: nor of God the Lord wist they,

  Nor the Helm of the Heavens knew aught how to hery,

  The Wielder of Glory. Woe worth unto that man

  Who through hatred the baneful his soul shall shove into

  The fire’s embrace; nought of fostering weens he,

  Nor of changing one whit. But well is he soothly

  That after the death-day shall seek to the Lord,

  In the breast of the Father all peace ever craving.

  IV. NOW COMES BEOWULF ECGTHEOW’S SON TO THE LAND OF THE DANES, AND THE WALL-WARDEN SPEAKETH WIT
H HIM.

  So care that was time-long the kinsman of Healfdene

  Still seeth’d without ceasing, nor might the wise warrior

  Wend otherwhere woe, for o’er strong was the strife

  All loathly so longsome late laid on the people,

  Need-wrack and grim nithing, of night-bales the greatest.

  Now that from his home heard the Hygelac’s thane,

  Good midst of the Geat-folk; of Grendel’s deeds heard he.

  But he was of mankind of might and main mightiest

  In the day that we tell of, the day of this life,

  All noble, strong-waxen. He bade a wave-wearer

  Right good to be gear’d him, and quoth he that the war-king

  Over the swan-road he would be seeking,

  The folk-lord far-famed, since lack of men had he.

  Forsooth of that faring the carles wiser-fashion’d

  Laid little blame on him, though lief to them was he;

  The heart-hardy whetted they, heeded the omen.

  There had the good one, e’en he of the Geat-folk,

  Champions out-chosen of them that he keenest

  Might find for his needs; and he then the fifteenth,

  Sought to the sound-wood. A swain thereon show’d him,

  A sea-crafty man, all the make of the land-marks.

  Wore then a while, on the waves was the floater,

  The boat under the berg, and yare then the warriors

  Strode up on the stem; the streams were a-winding

  The sea ’gainst the sands. Upbore the swains then

  Up into the bark’s barm the bright-fretted weapons,

  The war-array stately; then out the lads shov’d her,

  The folk on the welcome way shov’d out the wood-bound.

  Then by the wind driven out o’er the wave-holm

  Far’d the foamy-neck’d floater most like to a fowl,

  Till when was the same tide of the second day’s wearing

  The wound-about-stemm’d one had waded her way,

  So that then they that sail’d her had sight of the land,

  Bleak shine of the sea-cliffs, bergs steep up above,

  Sea-nesses wide reaching; the sound was won over,

  The sea-way was ended: then up ashore swiftly

  The band of the Weder-folk up on earth wended;

  They bound up the sea-wood, their sarks on them rattled,

  Their weed of the battle, and God there they thanked

  For that easy the wave-ways were waxen unto them.

  But now from the wall saw the Scylding-folks’ warder,

  E’en he whom the holm-cliffs should ever be holding,

  Men bear o’er the gangway the bright shields a-shining,

  Folk-host gear all ready. Then mind-longing wore him,

  And stirr’d up his mood to wot who were the men-folk.

  So shoreward down far’d he his fair steed a-riding,

  Hrothgar’s Thane, and full strongly then set he a-quaking

  The stark wood in his hands, and in council-speech speer’d he:

  What men be ye then of them that have war-gear,

  With byrnies bewarded, who the keel high up-builded

  Over the Lake-street thus have come leading.

  Hither o’er holm-ways hieing in ring-stem?

  End-sitter was I, a-holding the sea-ward,

  That the land of the Dane-folk none of the loathly

  Faring with ship-horde ever might scathe it.

  None yet have been seeking more openly hither

  Of shield-havers than ye, and ye of the leave-word

  Of the framers of war naught at all wotting,

  Or the manners of kinsmen. But no man of earls greater

  Saw I ever on earth than one of you yonder,

  The warrior in war-gear: no hall-man, so ween I,

  Is that weapon-beworthy’d, but his visage belie him,

  The sight seen once only. Now I must be wotting

  The spring of your kindred ere further ye cast ye,

  And let loose your false spies in the Dane-land a-faring

  Yet further afield. So now, ye far-dwellers,

  Ye wenders o’er sea-flood, this word do ye hearken

  Of my one-folded thought: and haste is the handiest

  To do me to wit of whence is your coming.

  V. HERE BEOWULF MAKES ANSWER TO THE LAND-WARDEN, WHO SHOWETH HIM THE WAY TO THE KING’S ABODE.

  He then that was chiefest in thus wise he answer’d,

  The war-fellows’ leader unlock’d he the word-hoard:

  We be a people of the Weder-Geats’ man-kin

  And of Hygelac be we the hearth-fellows soothly.

  My father before me of folks was well-famed

  Van-leader and atheling, Ecgtheow he hight.

  Many winters abode he, and on the way wended

  An old man from the garths, and him well remembers

  Every wise man well nigh wide yond o’er the earth.

  Through our lief mood and friendly the lord that is thine,

  Even Healfdene’s son, are we now come a-seeking,

  Thy warder of folk. Learn us well with thy leading,

  For we have to the mighty an errand full mickle,

  To the lord of the Dane-folk: naught dark shall it be,

  That ween I full surely. If it be so thou wottest,

  As soothly for our parts we now have heard say,

  That one midst of the Scyldings, who of scathers I wot not,

  A deed-hater secret, in the dark of the night-tide

  Setteth forth through the terror the malice untold of,

  The shame-wrong and slaughter. I therefore to Hrothgar

  Through my mind fashion’d roomsome the rede may now learn him,

  How he, old-wise and good, may get the fiend under,

  If once more from him awayward may turn

  The business of bales, and the boot come again,

  And the weltering of care wax cooler once more;

  Or for ever sithence time of stress he shall thole,

  The need and the wronging, the while yet there abideth

  On the high stead aloft the best of all houses.

  Then spake out the warden on steed there a-sitting,

  The servant all un-fear’d: It shall be of either

  That the shield-warrior sharp the sundering wotteth,

  Of words and of works, if he think thereof well.

  I hear it thus said that this host here is friendly

  To the lord of the Scyldings; forth fare ye then, bearing

  Your weed and your weapons, of the way will I wise you;

  Likewise mine own kinsmen I will now be bidding

  Against every foeman your floater before us,

  Your craft but new-tarred, the keel on the sand,

  With honour to hold, until back shall be bearing

  Over the lake-streams this one, the lief man,

  The wood of the wounden-neck back unto Wedermark.

  Unto such shall be granted amongst the good-doers

  To win the way out all whole from the war-race.

  Then boun they to faring, the bark biding quiet;

  Hung upon hawser the wide-fathom’d ship

  Fast at her anchor. Forth shone the boar-shapes

  Over the check-guards golden adorned,

  Fair-shifting, fire-hard; ward held the farrow.

  Snorted the war-moody, hasten’d the warriors

  And trod down together until the hall timbered,

  Stately and gold-bestain’d, gat they to look on,

  That was the all-mightiest unto earth’s dwellers

  Of halls ’neath the heavens, wherein bode the mighty;

  Glisten’d the gleam thereof o’er lands a many.

  Unto them then the war-deer the court of the proud one

  Full clearly betaught it, that they therewithal

  Might wend their ways thither. Then he of the warriors

  Round wended his
steed, and spake a word backward:

  Time now for my faring; but the Father All-wielder

  May He with all helping henceforward so hold you

  All whole in your wayfaring. Will I to sea-side

  Against the wroth folk to hold warding ever.

  VI. BEOWULF AND THE GEATS COME INTO HART.

  Stone-diverse the street was, straight uplong the path led

  The warriors together. There shone the war-byrny

  The hard and the hand-lock’d; the ring-iron sheer

  Sang over their war-gear, when they to the hall first

  In their gear the all-fearful had gat them to ganging.

  So then the sea-weary their wide shields set down,

  Their war-rounds the mighty, against the hall’s wall.

  Then bow’d they to bench, and rang there the byrnies,

  The war-weed of warriors, and up-stood the spears,

  The war-gear of the sea-folk all gather’d together.

  The ash-holt grey-headed; that host of the iron

  With weapons was worshipful. There then a proud chief

  Of those lads of the battle speer’d after their line:

  Whence ferry ye then the shields golden-faced,

  The grey sarks therewith, and the helms all bevisor’d,

  And a heap of the war-shafts? Now am I of Hrothgar

  The man and the messenger: ne’er saw I of aliens

  So many of men more might-like of mood.

  I ween that for pride-sake, no wise for wrack-wending

  But for high might of mind, ye to Hrothgar have sought.

  Unto him then the heart-hardy answer’d and spake,

  The proud earl of the Weders the word gave aback,

  The hardy neath helm: Now of Hygelac are we

  The board-fellows; Beowulf e’en is my name,

  And word will I say unto Healfdene’s son,

  To the mighty, the folk-lord, what errand is mine,

  Yea unto thy lord, if to us he will grant it

  That him, who so good is, anon we may greet.

  Spake Wulfgar the word, a lord of the Wendels,

  And the mood of his heart of a many was kenned,

  His war and his wisdom: I therefore the Danes’ friend

  Will lightly be asking, of the lord of the Scyldings,

  The dealer of rings, since the boon thou art bidding,

  The mighty folk-lord, concerning thine errand,

  And swiftly the answer shall do thee to wit

  Which the good one to give thee aback may deem meetest.

  Then turn’d he in haste to where Hrothgar was sitting

  Right old and all hoary mid the host of his earl-folk:

  Went the valour-stark; stood he the shoulders before

  Of the Dane-lord: well could he the doughty ones’ custom.