Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary, together with Sellic Spell
Page 36
Þá arás fǽringa micel wind, and se blæst bléow swa wódlice þæt wǽgas to heofone astigon swá swá beorgas, and hie cnysedon and hrysedon Brecan, and adrifon hine feorr onweg and feredon hine to fyrlenum lande. Þanon cóm he siþþan eft on langum síþe to his ágnum earde: sægde þæt he Béowulf léte feor behindan, and hine æt þam sunde ealles oferflite. Húru se storm onhrérde þa niceras, and hie þá úp dufon of sǽgrunde; and hie gesáwon Béowulf. Swíþe hátheorte wurdon hie, for þam þe hie wéndon þæt he Breca wǽre and þone storm him on andan aweahte. Þá geféng hira án þone cniht: wolde hine niþer téon tó grunde. Swíþe wéndon þa niceras þæt hie wolden þá niht under sǽ wista néotan. Hwæþre seþéah Béowulf wrǽstlode wiþ þone nicor and ofslóh hine, and swá eft óþre. Siþþan morgen cóm, þa lágon úp nigon niceras wealwiende be þæm wætere.
Þá sweþrode se wind, and astág seo sunne. Béowulf geseah manige síde næssas licgan út on þa sæ, and micle ýþa oþbǽron hine and awurpon hine up on elþéod, feorr be norþan, þær Finnas eardodon. Síþ cóm he eft hám. Hine þá sume frugnon: ‘Hwider éodestu?’ ‘On sunde náthwǽr,’ cwæþ he. Þúhte him swáþéah his ansýn grimlic, and hie gesáwon on him wundswaþe swá he wiþ wildeor wrǽstlode.
Hit gesǽlde, siþþan Béowulf mannes wæstm oþþe wel máran begeat, þæt he æt sumum sǽle hýrde menn gieddian on healle. Þá cwiddode án þæt sum útlandes cyning him micel hús atimbrode. Héah wæs seo heall, and hire hróf gylden; ealle bence þǽr inne wrǽtlice agræfene wǽron and ofergylde; scán se fáge flór, and gylden rift hangodon be þam wágum. Þær wæs ǽr manig wuldorlic symbel, micel mandréam, gamen and hleahtor wera. Nú þéah stód þæt hús ídel, siþþan seo sunne to setle éode. Nǽnig dorste þǽr inne slǽpan; for þam þe þyrsa náthwilc seomode on þǽre healle: ealle þe he besierwan mihte oþþe frǽt he oþþe út aferede to his denne. Ealle niht rixode se eoten on þǽre gyldenan healle þæs cyninges, ne nán mann mihte him wiþstandan.
Þá semninga gestód Béowulf úp. ‘Him is mannes þearf þǽr on lande,’ cwæþ he. ‘Þone cyning wille ic ofer sǽ sécan!’
Þás word þuhton manigum dysig. Lýt lógon hie him swáþéah þone síþ; for þam þe hie tealdon þæt se þyrs oþre manige nytwyrþran etan mihte.
Béowulf fór ánliepe fram hám: ac on færendum wege gemétte he sumne mann þe hine áxode hú he hátte and hwider he fóre.
Þá andswarode he: ‘Ic hátte Béowulf, and ic séce Gyldenhealle cyning.’
Þá cwæþ se mann: ‘Nú wille ic þé féran mid. Handscóh is mín nama’ – and he hátte swá, for þam þe he his handa mid miclum hýdigum glófum werede, and þá he glófa on hæfde, þá mihte he gréat clúd onweg ascúfan and micle stánas to-slítan; ac þá he hie næfde, ne mihte ná má þonne óþre menn.
Fóron þá forþ samod Handscóh and Béowulf þæt hie to þǽre sǽ cómon. Þǽr begéaton hie scip, and tobrǽddon segl, and se norþwind bær hie feorr onweg. Gesáwon hie æfter fierste fremede land licgan him beforan: héah clifu blicon bufan sande. Þǽr æt síþmestan dydon hie hira scip úp on strand.
Sóna swá hie úp éodon, swá cóm him ongéan wígmanna sum; ne sægde he ná þæt hie wilcuman wæren; lócode grimlíce, and mid spere handum acweahte wódlíce. Hie gefrægn þa cuman unfréondlíce æfter hira namum and hira ǽrende.
Þá gestód Béowulf and him andwyrde módiglíce. ‘Béowulf is mín nama,’ cwæþ he, ‘and þes mín geféra hátte Handscóh. Wé sécaþ þæs Gyldenhealle cyninges land. Wolde ic georn geweorc habban þe geþungenes mannes gemet síe. Þǽr on lande scolde man þæt findan, þæs þe we secgan hýrdon; for þam þe séo gesegen on mínum éþle gebrǽded wæs þæt féonda náthwilc þæs cyninges healle nihtes sóhte, ne nǽnig híredman his abídan ne dorste. Gif þas word sóþ wǽren, dohte ic þam cyninge.’
‘Húru þu dohte!’ cwæþ se mann: stóp onbæc, and lócode úp wundriende on þone cuman (and he, Béowulf wæs þá swíþe héah aweaxen, and his limu wǽron grýtran þonne óþerra manna gemet). ‘For sóþe hæfþ éow se wind on þæs cyninges ríce gelǽded. Nis nú feorr heonan þæt hús þe gé tó sécaþ.’
Þá wísode he Béowulfe and his geféran forþ ofer land, oþþæt hie brádne weg fundon: þá þǽr gesáwon hie þæs cyninges hús scínan him beforan, on grénre dene: líexte geond þæt déope land se léoma þæs gyldenan hrófes.
Þá cwæþ se wísiend: ‘þǽr stent séo heall þe gé tó fundiaþ. Ne magon gé nú þæs weges missan! Háte ic éow wel faran: swá ne wéne ic ná þæs þe ic þéow siþþan ǽfre eft geséon móte!’
Þæs ymb lýtel fæc cómon hie, Handscóh and Béowulf, tó þǽre healle durum. Þǽr ascéaf Béowulf þa duruweardas: cóm þá inn gán módig æfter flóre, þæt he fore þam cynesetle gestód and þone cyning grétte.
‘Wes þú, hláford, hál on þínre Gyldenhealle!’ cwæþ he. ‘Ic eom nú hér cumen líþan ofer sǽ. Hýrde ic þæt þé elwihta sum gedrecce. Man me sægde þæt he þínne folgaþ ǽte and þæt þú mid fela goldes þám léanian wolde þam þe þé æt him ahredde.’
Þá andswarode se cyning: ‘Wálá! Sóþ is þætte þu gehíerdest. Án þyrs se þe Grendel hátte nú fela géara hergaþ mín folc. Swá hwelcum menn swá hine fordyde, wolde ic þá dǽd mǽrlíce léanian. Ac hwá eart þu? Oþþe hwelc ǽrende hæfstu tó mé?’
‘Béowulf is mín nama,’ cwæþ he. ‘Hæbbe ic on mínum handum þrítigra manna mægen. Þæt is mín ǽrende þæt ic on þisne þyrs lócige. Wæs ic ǽr ymb óþre swylce abisgod. Niceras éac ofslóh ic. Þý nǽnig hér on lande is þe him wiþstandan durre, þý wille ic hér toniht his abídan, maþelian mid þissum Grendle swá me wel þynce. Óþerne fultum nelle ic habban búte míne earmas twégen. Gif þás mé swícen, húru þu bist orsorg mín: náþer ne þyrfe þu mé leng feormian, ne mé bebyrigan mid ealle, búte þa spell léogen.’
Þá blissode se cyning swíþe þæs þe he þás sprǽce hierde; ongann wénan þæs þe his gedeorfa bót nú æt síþmestan him gehende wǽre. Swá gebéad he Béowulfe þæt he tó symble eode; hét settan hine onmang his híredmanna. Þá þá sǽl gewearþ þæt man fletsittendum drync agéat, þá cóm self seo cwén tó Béowulfe, scencte him full medwes and him hǽlo abéad. ‘Swíþe gladu eom ic on móde,’ cwæþ heo, ‘þe ic eft tó sóþe mann on þisse healle geséo!’
Þás word yfele lícodon þam híredmannum, and hira nánum ofþuhton hie má þonne Unfriþe. Se Unfriþ tealde hine mycles wyrðne, for þam þe he þam cyninge léof wæs. Húru he wæs swíþe gewittig mann: þý wǽron his rǽdas dýre his hláforde. Óþre sume cwǽdon þéah þæt he drýcræftig wǽre and galdor cúþe: oftor aweahten his rǽdas unsibbe þonne hie geþwǽrnesse setten.
Se ilca mann wende hine nú tó Béowulfe weard, and cwæþ him þus: ‘Hýrde ic nú ǽr on riht þæt þú þé Béowulf nemnede? Seldcúþ nama, féawum gemǽne, þæs ic wéne. Witodlíce þú wǽre hit þe he Breca þé sundgeflit béad, and he þá lét þé feorr behindan, and swamm eft hám tó his ágenum earde: swá gelǽste he his béot wiþ þé. Wén hæbbe ic þæs þe Grendel þé læssan áre dón wille þonne Breca, búte þú micle swíþor duge nú þonne ǽr.’
‘Lá! léofa Unfriþ!’ cwæþ Béowulf. ‘Hwæt! Þu woffast béore druncen, dollíce gesegest eall on unriht! Eornostlíce wæs ic hit þe mín béot gelǽste, nealles se earma Breca. Þéah wæs ic þá giet cniht án. Sóþlíce is mín wæstm hwéne mára núþa. Ac uton nú gefrýnd weorþan!’
Þá nóm he Unfriþ úp, ymbfæþmode hine, and clypte hine leohtlíce (swá him þúhte). Wæs hit þéah þam óþrum genóg, and siþþan Béowulf hine alíesde, þá lét Unfriþ swíþe fréondlíce, þá hwíle þe Béowulf wæs him néah gesett.
Hraþe æfter þon ongann seo sunne niþer gewítan, wurdon sceadwa lange ofer eorðan. Þá arás se cyning; menn ónetton of þǽre healle.
*
THE LAY OF BEOWULF
These two poems, or two versions of a poem, are typescripts made by my father in the same ‘midget’ type as that used for text B of his translation of Beowulf (see p. 1). One version h
as the typed title BEOWULF AND GRENDEL, with the number I added in ink; the title of the other as typed was simply BEOWULF, but to this he added in ink & THE MONSTERS, together with the number II.
That version I was the earlier, as might be guessed in any case, is shown by the emendation in ink of the first line of the sixth stanza A ship there sailed on pinions wild in version I to On the sails of a ship the sunlight smiled, which is the form of the line in the penultimate stanza of version II as typed. Version II repeats many of the lines of version I, but is greatly changed and enlarged by the introduction of the story of Grendel’s mother.
I have found no mention of these lays even of the slightest nature among my father’s writings (apart from the name ‘Beowulf’ pencilled on an early typewritten list of his poems), but the texts are preceded by a page on which he wrote in ink ‘Stages in the accretion of new matter to The Lay of Beowulf’. This of course he added when the two versions were both in existence, a satiric suggestion of the importance of these poems expressed in the academic vocabulary of this branch of Beowulf studies.
On this cover page there is also a pencilled note ‘Intended to be sung’. As mentioned in the Preface I remember his singing this ballad to me when I was seven or eight years old, in the early 1930s (but of course it may have been in existence years before that). I think it very probable that it was the first version, Beowulf and Grendel, that he sang.
THE LAY OF BEOWULF
I
Beowulf and Grendel
Grendel came forth in the dead of night;
the moon in his eyes shone glassy bright,
as over the moors he strode in might,
until he came to Heorot.
Dark lay the dale, the windows shone;
by the wall he lurked and listened long,
and he cursed their laughter and cursed their song
and the twanging harps of Heorot.
King Hrothgar mourns upon his throne
for his lieges slain, he mourns alone,
but Grendel gnaws the flesh and bone
of the thirty thanes of Heorot.
A ship there sails like a wingéd swan,
and the foam is white on the waters wan,
and one there stands with bright helm on
that the winds have brought to Heorot.
On his pillow soft there Beowulf slept,
and Grendel the cruel to the dark hall crept;
the doors sprang back, and in he leapt
and grasped the guard of Heorot.
As bear aroused from his mountain lair
Beowulf wrestled with Grendel there,
and his arm and claw away did tear,
and his black blood spilled in Heorot.
‘O! Ecgtheow’s son’ he then dying said,
‘Forbear to hew my vanquished head,
or hard and stony be thy death-bed,
and a red fate fall on Heorot!’
‘Then hard and stony must be the bed
where at the last I lay me dead’:
and Beowulf hewed the demon’s head
and hung it high in Heorot.
Merry the mead men quaffed at the board,
and Hrothgar dealt his golden hoard,
and many a jewel and horse and sword
to Beowulf gave in Heorot.
The moon gleamed in through the windows wan;
as Beowulf drank he looked thereon,
and a light in the demon’s eyes there shone
amid the blaze of Heorot.
On the sails of a ship the sunlight smiled,
its bosom with gleaming gold was piled,
and the wind blew loud and free and wild
as it left the land of Heorot.
Voices followed from the sounding shore
that blessed the lord those timbers bore,
but that sail returned thither never more,
and his fate was far from Heorot.
The demon’s head in the hall did hang
and grinned from the wall while minstrels sang,
till flames leapt forth and red swords rang,
and hushed were the harps of Heorot.
And latest and last one hoar of head,
as he lay on a hard and stony bed,
and venom burned him and he bled,
remembered the light of Heorot.
II
Beowulf and the Monsters
Grendel came forth at dead of night;
the moon in his eyes shone glassy bright,
as over the moors he strode in might
until he came to Heorot.
Dark lay the dale, the windows shone;
by the wall he lurked and listened long,
and he cursed their laughter and cursed their song
and the twanging harps of Heorot.
The lights were quenched and laughter still;
there Grendel entered and ate his fill;
and the blood was red that he did spill
on the shining floor of Heorot.
No Dane ever dared that monster meet,
or abide the tramp of those dread feet;
in the hall alone he held his seat
the demon lord of Heorot.
At morn King Hrothgar on his throne
for his lieges slain there mourned alone
but Grendel gnawed the flesh and bone
of the thirty thanes of Denmark.
A ship there sailed like a wingéd swan,
and the foam was white on the waters wan,
and one there stood with bright helm on
that fate had brought to Denmark.
Beowulf soft on his pillow slept,
and Grendel in lust to the dark hall crept,
the doors sprang back, and in he leapt
and grasped the guard of Heorot.
As bear aroused from his mountain lair
Beowulf grappled with Grendel there,
and his arm and claw away did tear,
and black blood spilled in Heorot.
Merry the mead goes round the board,
and merry are men, and glad their lord,
and many a jewel and horse and sword
he gives in gift to Beowulf.
The Danes in slumber all careless lie,
nor dream of a fiend that draweth nigh
to avenge the death her son did die
and his blood there spilled by Beowulf.
The laughter was still and the lights were low;
the mother of trolls there wrought them woe,
with a Danish corpse she turned to go
and shrieking fled from Heorot.
Like a shadow cast on the mountain mist,
where the winds were bleak and the heather hissed
she fled, but none could keep her tryst
since her son found death in Heorot.
There was one who dared over mountain road
to follow her fleeing with dreadful load
to the foaming fall where she abode,
while men made moan in Heorot.
Far over the misty moorlands cold
where the wild wolf howled upon the wold,
past dragon’s lair and nicor’s hold,
and far from the lights of Heorot.
There sheer was the shore over waters frore
and withered and bent the trees it bore;
those waters black were blent with gore
of the noblest knights of Denmark.
The flaming force there in thunder fell,
that cauldron smoked with the fires of hell,
and there the demons dark did dwell
amid the bones of Denmark.
Quoth Beowulf ‘Farewell, comrades free!
this journey none may share with me’,
and his shining helm plunged in the sea
to avenge the woes of Heorot.
The nicors gnashed his ringéd mail;
he saw their white fangs gleaming pale;
a green light burned in that deep
sea-dale
in halls more high than Heorot.
The demon lurked at her cave’s dark door;
her fangs and fingers were red with gore,
and skulls of men lay on the floor
beneath the feet of Beowulf.
At his corslet tore her claws accursed
her teeth at his throat for blood did thirst,
and the sword there failed and asunder burst
that Unferth gave to Beowulf.
There nigh was his death in the shadowy deep,
where a corpse lay low on bony heap,
where Grendel slept in his long sleep
and strode no more to Heorot.
A sword hung huge on the cavern’s wall
once forged by ancient giants tall;
Beowulf seized it – as lightnings fall
it fell on the foe of Heorot.
‘O! Ecgtheow’s son’ she then dying said
‘Forbear to hew my vanquished head,
or hard and stony be thy death’s bed
and a red fate fall on Denmark!’
‘Then hard and stony must be the bed
where at the last I lay me dead’:
and Beowulf hewed the demon’s head
and haled it back to Denmark.
Merrily mead men quaffed at the board,
and Hrothgar dealt his golden hoard,
but Beowulf wore no more the sword
that Unferth gave in Heorot.
The moon gleamed in through the windows wan;
as Beowulf drank he looked thereon,
and the light in the eyes of the demon shone
amid the blaze of Heorot.
On the sails of a ship the sunlight smiled,
its bosom with gleaming gold was piled,
and the wind blew loud and free and wild
as it left the land of Denmark.
Voices followed from the sounding shore
that blessed the lord those timbers bore,
but that sail returned thither never more
and his fate was far from Denmark.
The demon’s head in the hall did hang
and grinned from the wall while minstrels sang
till flames leapt forth and red swords rang
and hushed were the harps of Heorot.
Latest and last one hoar of head,