The Complete Old English Poems

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The Complete Old English Poems Page 79

by Craig Williamson


  That lord threw away his war-trappings and trust,

  For they proved useless when the battle broke out, 2870

  And the great worm wanted to take his life.

  The people’s king had no need to boast

  Of the good courage of such battle-companions.

  Yet the Ruler of victories shaped the strife

  So that Beowulf alone might slay the worm, 2875

  Destroy the dragon, wield vengeance with a sword

  In his time of need. I had little power to protect him

  But was able to help beyond my means.

  The deadly dragon grew steadily weaker

  After I struck him with my sword. The fierce fire 2880

  That flamed from his head died down.

  No crowd of defenders came to the king’s aid

  In his darkest hour. Now your inheritance

  Of ancient treasure and homeland joy,

  The giving of swords, receiving of rings— 2885

  Your future has fled with your lost courage.

  You and your kin must lose your land rights

  When neighboring nobles hear of your flight.

  Your hall-joy is gone—your glory is buried.

  Death is better for you than a life of shame.” 2890

  Then Wiglaf commanded the battle-outcome

  Proclaimed in the camp over the sea-cliffs

  To the band of sad-hearted shield-warriors

  Who’d waited the long morning to discover

  If their dear lord was alive or dead. 2895

  The messenger galloped off with harrowing news,

  Held back nothing from the people’s hearing:

  “Now the joy-giver and hall-guardian,

  The lord of the Geats, sleeps in his death-bed,

  With a blanket of slaughter wrought by the worm, 2900

  The ancient serpent who lies beside him,

  The dragon struck down by his deadly dagger.

  His sword could not slice through worm-scales.

  Wiglaf son of Weohstan sits beside Beowulf,

  The living warrior keeping his heart-weary 2905

  Watch over the dead, keening for his lost lord,

  Guarding them both—the loved and the loathed.

  Now the Geats are in for a terrible time,

  The sure threat of war from the Franks and Frisians,

  When the neighboring nations hear the news 2910

  Of Beowulf’s death, the fall of the king.

  The old strife between us is no great secret.

  Our feud with them began when Hygelac

  Sailed to their shores with a seafaring army,

  Where the enemy assailed him, attacked quickly 2915

  With a stronger force, made the man of the Geats

  Bow down in his mail-coat, clutching the ground.

  That king gave no more gifts in the hall,

  Trust and treasure to his loyal retainers.

  The King of the Franks was never our friend. 2920

  And let’s not expect any peace from the Swedes,

  Any keeping of promises from old enemies.

  Everyone knows how Ongentheow their king

  Robbed Hæthcyn of his life near Hrefnawudu,

  The son of Hrethel, when the Geats in their pride, 2925

  Their battle-arrogance, attacked the Swedes.

  Ohthere’s father, Ongentheow the king,

  Old but terrible, fiercely struck back,

  Killing Hæthcyn, the sea-raiders’ king,

  Rescuing his wife whom the Geat had seized, 2930

  The old queen bereft of her family gold,

  Mother of Onela and Ohthere, her sons.

  Ongentheow followed his deadly foes,

  Who fled leaderless to the refuge of Hrefnawudu.

  The Swedes laid siege to the war-weary Geats, 2935

  The remnant of the sword-fight, threatening them

  Throughout the night with savage vows,

  Saying they intended to slice them with swords,

  Greet them with slaughter when morning came,

  Hang them on gallows for the ravens to eat, 2940

  A breakfast for birds. Relief for the grieving

  Came at dawn when the Geats gratefully heard

  Hygelac’s horn trumpeting that help was coming,

  The sign of an army advancing on the road.

  The Swedes and Geats left a trail of blood 2945

  In that rush to slaughter. Everyone saw

  The tracks of blood, stoking the feud.

  Ongentheow the brave began to back off,

  Weary with his kinsmen, to his own stronghold.

  He had heard the horn sound a warrior’s warning, 2950

  Knew the power of the proud Geatish prince,

  His strength and savvy in waging war.

  He doubted his weary troops could resist

  The new onslaught of savage sea-warriors

  And worried for the safety of his wife and sons, 2955

  So he pulled his war-troops back to a shelter,

  An old king holing up behind an earth-wall.

  The Geats gave pursuit, dogging the heels

  Of the Swedes, overrunning the camp,

  Raising the standard of Hygelac over the field. 2960

  Then the grizzled Ongentheow was laid low

  By the sword of Eofor, son of Wonred,

  After being wounded by Wulf, Eofor’s brother,

  Who struck him first with his hard sword

  So that blood-streams surged from his head, 2965

  From under his hair. The old Swede was not afraid,

  But paid Wulf back with a harder battle-blow,

  When the king gave Wulf his sword’s greeting.

  Wulf, son of Wonred, daring destruction

  Could not answer Ongentheow with a counter-blow 2970

  Because the king had cut through his helmet,

  Hacking his head. He was streaming with blood

  And had to lie down. He fell on the earth.

  He was not doomed to die but fated to recover

  From the Swedish wound. When Wulf swooned, 2975

  His brother Eofor, Hygelac’s thane,

  Lifted his broad sword, an old blade of giants,

  Slashing the helmet of the giant Ongentheow

  Across the shield-wall. The king fell,

  Guardian of the Swedes, his life severed. 2980

  Then many of the Geats gathered Wulf up

  When fate turned the battle in their favor

  With a slaughter of Swedes and a field of corpses.

  Eofor then plundered Ongentheow’s body,

  Stripping the king of his war-corselet, 2985

  Hard-hilted sword, and huge helmet.

  He brought that war-gear back to Hygelac.

  The Geatish king accepted his trust and treasure,

  Promising him rich rewards among the warriors.

  The lord of the Geats, the son of Hrethel, 2990

  Gave Wulf and Eofor, when they came home,

  Untold treasures for their battle-prowess—

  A hundred thousand in land and rings,

  In gifts and gold. No man on middle-earth

  Could fault the rewards that the brothers reaped 2995

  For their battle-deeds. And the king gave Eofor

  His only daughter as a marriage-pledge,

  A peace-weaver to grace his home.

  That’s the history of hatred and hostility,

  Of savagery and feud, between Swedes and Geats, 3000

  That will spur their shield-warriors to seek us out,

  Once they learn that our lord is lifeless,

  Who guarded our kingdom, land, and treasure

  Against all enemies, keeping us safe

  As a hero should, protecting his people. 3005

  Now we must hasten to see our king,

  Bring back the ruler who gave us rings,

  Tokens of trust
, carry our lord

  To his resting place on the funeral pyre.

  Let’s not begrudge him gold, offer only 3010

  Some small share to melt with the brave man,

  For we have here a dragon’s hoard,

  An untold treasure, dearly bought,

  Grimly paid for with our lord’s life.

  The fire shall devour this gold, these rings, 3015

  A web of flame embrace the giver.

  No man may wear these rings in remembrance—

  No woman can wrap her neck in this collar,

  These links of gold. Sad-hearted, the Geats

  Must now wander new worlds, 3020

  Stripped of inheritance in strange countries,

  Now that their leader has laid down laughter.

  Now our hands must wake to morning spears

  And battle-beasts, not sweet harp music.

  The dark raven shall sing its feasting song, 3025

  Tell the ravenous eagle how men tasted

  When he and the hungry wolf plundered corpses.”

  So the messenger brought back dire news,

  A hateful speech. He didn’t hold back

  About their past or future. Tearfully the troop 3030

  Of cowards rose up, walked without hope

  To Earnaness, the high headland,

  Where they gazed in wonder on the strange sight.

  They saw on the sand their lifeless lord,

  A gift-giver lying in endless bed-rest. 3035

  That was the last day of Beowulf their lord,

  Battle-warrior, king of the Geats.

  His death was awesome, uncanny.

  What was stranger was the serpent with him,

  The worm at his side, a loathsome mate. 3040

  The grim fire-dragon was glazed by flame,

  Coated in colors, fifty feet long.

  Sometimes he’d soared in the joyful wind,

  Sometimes dived down to his secret lair,

  The last of his earth-caves where he met death. 3045

  Beside him lay piles of cups and pitchers,

  Swords and dishes, gnawed by rust,

  As if blighted by a thousand years

  In the earth’s embrace. The ancient treasure,

  Heritage of the hoard, was sheathed in a spell— 3050

  So that no man might enter the ring-hall,

  Touch the treasure through time,

  Except through God’s gift, the King of victories,

  Who is man’s protector. Only He could choose

  The man who could open the hoard at last. 3055

  It’s clear that the one who unrightly hid

  The glittering treasure, rings and riches,

  Gold in the ground, got nothing from it.

  The scaly hoard-guardian slew the warrior,

  The rarest of heroes who avenged that feud. 3060

  No one knows how or where or when

  A glorious warrior will meet his end,

  No longer dwell in the meadhall with his kin.

  So it was with Beowulf when he sought strife

  And the barrow-guard, not knowing 3065

  He was lifting his sword on his last day.

  The great princes who first buried the hoard

  Laid on that treasure a timeless curse

  That any man who dug it up before Doomsday

  Would be guilty of sin, chained in hell, 3070

  Tormented by demons at their heathen shrines,

  Unless he saw more readily than before,

  The grace of the owner’s charmed gift—

  Gazed at the giving instead of the gold.

  Wiglaf spoke, son of Weohstan: 3075

  “Often many must suffer for the will of one,

  As we do now. Nothing we said

  Could persuade our prince, defender of our kingdom,

  Not to seek the dragon, the guardian of gold,

  But to let him live, lie where he was, 3080

  In his old barrow till the end of time.

  He held to his high destiny with the dragon.

  The hoard is here, grimly gained.

  The fierce fate that drew our king here

  Against our counsel was too strong. 3085

  I’ve been in the barrow, seen the serpent’s

  Beautiful gems under the earth-wall,

  When the way was opened uneasily to me.

  I seized as much as a man could carry

  Of that burden of gold in my hands and arms, 3090

  Bore them beyond the cave to my king,

  Who was still alive, conscious and alert.

  He spoke out of sorrow, out of old age,

  Asked me to greet you. The king commanded us

  To build a high barrow in the place of his pyre, 3095

  To honor our hero and his glorious deeds—

  A grand monument like the man himself.

  He was the most worthy of men in this world

  As long as he lived in the wealth of hall-joy.

  Let’s go see the treasure again, the serpent’s hoard 3100

  Of gold and gems, jewels and heirlooms,

  In the heart of the cave. I’ll lead the way

  So you can see the precious rings and stones,

  Bright trappings and broad gold.

  Let Beowulf’s bier be quickly built, 3105

  So when we come out, we can carry our king,

  Our beloved prince to a place of peace

  Where he can rest in the protection of the Lord.”

  Then the brave warrior, Weohstan’s son,

  Ordered warriors to announce the message 3110

  That powerful men, leaders and land-owners,

  Should bring firewood from far forests

  For Beowulf’s pyre. Wiglaf spoke:

  “Now darkening flames must devour the prince

  Of warriors who long withstood war-storm, 3115

  Iron-rain, the sharp wind of arrows shot

  Over shield-walls, driven by bow-strings,

  When shaft served barb, death-feathers whistling.”

  Then Wiglaf, wise son of Weohstan,

  Summoned seven warriors from the troop, 3120

  Collected the best to enter the cave,

  Under the earth-wall, the evil roof,

  Following the torch-bearer to the treasure.

  No lots needed to be drawn to loot the hoard—

  They all rushed to plunder the treasure-cave 3125

  When they saw it unguarded, unused,

  Wasting away. No man mourned

  The loss of that treasure. They plundered the hoard

  And pushed the dragon over the sea-wall,

  Plunging the worm to a watery grave, 3130

  So the sea could embrace the body of the serpent,

  The fiery dragon in the clutch of waves.

  They loaded the twisted gold on their wagons,

  Untold treasure of every kind,

  And bore their king to Hronesness, 3135

  The old battle-warrior. The Geats prepared

  His funeral pyre, a splendid hoard

  Hung with helmets, battle-shields,

  Bright mail-coats, as Beowulf had asked.

  In the middle they laid their battle-lord, 3140

  Lamenting their leader, mourning the man.

  There on the barrow they woke the flame,

  The greatest of funeral fires, stoking the pyre.

  The wood-smoke rose to the sound of wailing

  In the curling fire. The blaze was fierce, 3145

  Its fury twisted with the sound of keening.

  The wind died down—the fire had ravaged

  Beowulf’s bone-house, hot at the heart.

  Sad in spirit, they mourned their prince;

  Likewise a lonely old woman of the Geats, 3150

  With her hair bound up, wove a sad lament

  For her fallen lord, sang often of old feuds

  Bound to fester,
a fearful strife,

  The invasion of enemies, the slaughter of troops,

  Slavery and shame. Heaven swallowed the smoke. 3155

  Then the Geats built a barrow, broad and high,

  On the sea-cliff to be seen by seafarers.

  It took ten days to build that beacon,

  A hero’s monument. The pyre’s remains,

  The fire’s offering of ashes and dust, 3160

  They wrapped in walls for the great warrior,

  As beautiful as craftsmen knew how to build.

  In that best of barrows, the Geats buried

  Rings and gems, ornaments and heirlooms,

  All they had hauled from the worm’s hoard. 3165

  They returned to earth its ancient treasure,

  The gifts of men now gold in the ground,

  Where it still lies useless, unloved, unliving.

  Then around Beowulf’s barrow twelve

  Battle-warriors rode, mourning their prince, 3170

  Keening for the king, shaping their praise

  For a precious man. They spoke of sorrow,

  They sang of courage, of great words and deeds,

  Weaving glory with a weft of power.

  When a lord’s life lifts from its body-home, 3175

  It’s only fitting to mourn and remember,

  To lament and praise. So the Geats recalled

  His great heart and lamented his fall,

  Keening and claiming that of all the kings,

  He was the kindest of men, most generous and just, 3180

  Most desiring of praise, most deserving of fame.

  JUDITH

  The beginning of Judith is lost, though how much exactly is lost is the subject of some debate. The poem is based on the book of Judith in the Latin Vulgate Bible, where the story is longer and more complicated (with a number of minor characters) and where Judith plays the role of the potential seductress to win access to Holofernes. The poetic version here is focused on the climactic scene of Judith’s righteous slaying of the Assyrian leader with God’s aid and the subsequent rout of the heathen army by the Hebrew troops. Some editors believe that because the poem only deals with the end of the biblical story, a significant portion of the text has been lost, but Huppé, in his edition, argues that “the Old English poet characteristically dealt with biblical narratives selectively” (1970, 137). The emphasis on the central action heightens the drama and focuses on the role of the heroine as both a Germanic woman-warrior and a Christian soldier-saint. Fulk and Cain point out that “the poet polarizes the characters, drawing a sharp contrast between the licentious Holofernes and the virtuous Judith, who is cast as a kind of miles Dei, saint-like in her faith that God will deliver her people” (117). Chickering argues that the poem’s “confident exuberance takes many forms … all of which stabilize and reinforce the poem’s simple central themes of Judith’s wisdom and faith, and God’s mercy and grace towards His faithful” (42). Orchard notes that in the Vulgate, Judith is described as “a loyal ‘widow’ (vidua), and it is her chastity which is stressed … [while] in Judith itself, by contrast, her chastity or widowhood are scarcely mentioned, and instead we are invited to consider her beauty, courage, and wisdom” (1985, 9).

 

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