Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

by Beowulf

  Beowulf now feels his wounds, and knows that he is hurt deadly; he sits down by the wall, and Wiglaf bathes his wounds. Beowulf speaks, tells how he would give his armour to his son if he had one; thanks God that he has not sworn falsely or done guilefully; and prays Wiglaf to bear out the treasure that he may see it before he dies.

  Wiglaf fetches out the treasure, and again bathes Beowulf’s wounds; Beowulf speaks again, rejoices over the sight of the treasure; gives to Wiglaf his ring and his armour, and bids the manner of his bale-fire. With that he passes away. Now the dastards come thereto and find Wiglaf vainly bathing his dead lord. He casteth shame upon them with great wrath. Thence he sends a messenger to the barriers of the town, who comes to the host, and tells them of the death of Beowulf. He tells withal of the old feud betwixt the Geats and the Swedes, and how these, when they hear of the death of the king, will be upon them. The warriors go to look on Beowulf, and find him and the Worm lying dead together. Wiglaf chooses out seven of them to go void the treasure-house, after having bidden them gather wood for the bale-fire. They shove the Worm over the cliff into the sea, and bear off the treasure in wains. Then they bring Beowulf’s corpse to bale, and they kindle it; a woman called the wife of aforetime, it may be Hygd, widow of Hygelac, bemoans him: and twelve children of the athelings ride round the bale, and bemoan Beowulf and praise him: and thus ends the poem.

  THE STORY OF BEOWULF

  I. AND FIRST OF THE KINDRED OF HROTHGAR.

  What! we of the Spear-Danes of yore days, so was it

  That we learn’d of the fair fame of kings of the folks

  And the athelings a-faring in framing of valour.

  Oft then Scyld the Sheaf-son from the hosts of the scathers,

  From kindreds a many the mead-settles tore;

  It was then the earl fear’d them, sithence was he first

  Found bare and all-lacking; so solace he bided,

  Wax’d under the welkin in worship to thrive,

  Until it was so that the round-about sitters

  All over the whale-road must hearken his will 10

  And yield him the tribute. A good king was that,

  By whom then thereafter a son was begotten,

  A youngling in garth, whom the great God sent thither

  To foster the folk; and their crime-need he felt

  The load that lay on them while lordless they lived

  For a long while and long. He therefore, the Life-lord,

  The Wielder of glory, world’s worship he gave him:

  Brim Beowulf waxed, and wide the weal upsprang

  Of the offspring of Scyld in the parts of the Scede-lands.

  Such wise shall a youngling with wealth be a-working 20

  With goodly fee-gifts toward the friends of his father,

  That after in eld-days shall ever bide with him,

  Fair fellows well-willing when wendeth the war-tide,

  Their lief lord a-serving. By praise-deeds it shall be

  That in each and all kindreds a man shall have thriving.

  Then went his ways Scyld when the shapen while was,

  All hardy to wend him to the lord and his warding:

  Out then did they bear him to the side of the sea-flood,

  The dear fellows of him, as he himself pray’d them

  While yet his word wielded the friend of the Scyldings, 30

  The dear lord of the land; a long while had he own’d it.

  With stem all be-ringed at the hythe stood the ship,

  All icy and out-fain, the Atheling’s ferry.

  There then did they lay him, the lord well beloved,

  The gold-rings’ bestower, within the ship’s barm,

  The mighty by mast. Much there was the treasure,

  From far ways forsooth had the fret-work been led:

  Never heard I of keel that was comelier dighted

  With weapons of war, and with weed of the battle,

  With bills and with byrnies. There lay in his barm 40

  Much wealth of the treasure that with him should be,

  And he into the flood’s might afar to depart.

  No lesser a whit were the wealth-goods they dight him

  Of the goods of the folk, than did they who aforetime,

  When was the beginning, first sent him away

  Alone o’er the billows, and he but a youngling.

  Moreover they set him up there a sign golden

  High up overhead, and let the holm bear him,

  Gave all to the Spearman. Sad mind they had in them,

  And mourning their mood was. Now never knew men, 50

  For sooth how to say it, rede-masters in hall,

  Or heroes ‘neath heaven, to whose hands came the lading.

  II. CONCERNING HROTHGAR, AND HOW HE BUILT THE HOUSE CALLED HART. ALSO GRENDEL IS TOLD OF.

  In the burgs then was biding Beowulf the Scylding,

  Dear King of the people, for long was he dwelling

  Far-famed of folks (his father turn’d elsewhere,

  From his stead the Chief wended) till awoke to him after

  Healfdene the high, and long while he held it,

  Ancient and war-eager, o’er the glad Scyldings:

  Of his body four bairns are forth to him rimed;

  Into the world woke the leader of war-hosts 60

  Heorogar; eke Hrothgar, and Halga the good;

  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: 70

  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, 80

  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 90

  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, 100

  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. 110

  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, 120

  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, 130

  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, 140

  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 150

  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 160

  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, 170

  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, 180

  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 WITH HIM.

  So care that was time-long the kinsman of Healfdene

  Still seeth’d without ceasing, nor might the wise warrior 190

  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, 200

  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, 210

  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, 220

  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 fr
om the wall saw the Scylding-folks’ warder,

  E’en he whom the holm-cliffs should ever be holding, 230

  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? 240

  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, 250

  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 260

  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,