Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series

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Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series Page 57

by Beowulf

3085 but grievously gotten; too grim the fate

  “grimme gegongen; wæs þæt gifeðe tō swīð,

  “þē þone þēoden þyder ontyhte.

  “Ic wæs þǣr inne and þæt eall geond-seh,

  “recedes geatwa, þā mē gery¯med wæs,

  3090 “nealles swǣslīce sīð āly¯fed

  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)

  3090 under the earth-wall. Eager, I seized

  “inn under eorð-weall. Ic on ofoste gefēng

  “micle mid mundum mægen-byrðenne

  “hord-gestrēona, hider ūt ætbær

  “cyninge mīnum: cwico wæs þā gēna,

  3095 “wīs and gewittig; worn eall gespræc

  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

  3095 spake much in his sorrow, and sent you greetings

  “gomol on gehðo and ēowic grētan hēt,

  “bæd þæt gē geworhton æfter wines dǣdum

  “in bǣl-stede beorh þone hēan

  “micelne and mǣrne, swā hē manna wæs

  3100 “wīgend weorð-fullost wīde geond eorðan,

  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

  3100 the while he had joy of his jewels and burg.

  “þenden hē burh-welan brūcan mōste.

  “Uton nū efstan ōðre sīðe

  “sēon and sēcean searo-geþræc,

  “wundur under wealle! ic ēow wīsige,

  3105 “þæt gē genōge nēan scēawiað

  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

  3105 at broad-gold and rings. Let the bier, soon made,

  “bēagas and brād gold. Sīe sīo bǣr gearo

  “ǣdre geæfned, þonne wē ūt cymen,

  “and þonne geferian frēan ūserne,

  “lēofne mannan, þǣr hē longe sceal

  3110 “on þæs waldendes wǣre geþolian.”

  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.”

  3110 Then the bairn of Weohstan bade command,

  Hēt þā gebēodan byre Wīhstānes,

  hæle hilde-dīor, hæleða monegum

  bold-āgendra, þæt hīe bǣl-wudu

  feorran feredon, folc-āgende

  3115 gōdum tōgēnes: ”Nū sceal glēd fretan

  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

  3115 and wan flames feed on the fearless warrior

  “(weaxan wonna lēg) wigena strengel,

  “þone þe oft gebād īsern-scūre,

  “þonne strǣla storm, strengum gebǣded,

  “scōc ofer scild-weall, sceft nytte hēold,

  3120 “feðer-gearwum fūs flāne full-ēode.”

  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.”

  3120 And now the sage young son of Weohstan

  Hūru se snotra sunu Wīhstānes

  ācīgde of corðre cyninges þegnas

  syfone tōsomne þā sēlestan,

  ēode eahta sum under inwit-hrōf;

  3125 hilde-rinc sum on handa bær

  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

  3125 a lighted torch and led the way.

  ǣled-lēoman, sē þe on orde gēong.

  Næs þā on hlytme, hwā þæt hord strude,

  syððan or-wearde ǣnigne dǣl

  secgas gesēgon on sele wunian,

  3130 lǣne licgan: ly¯t ǣnig mearn,

  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

  3130 when they had hastily haled it out,

  þæt hī ofostlice ūt geferedon

  dy¯re māðmas; dracan ēc scufun,

  wyrm ofer weall-clif, lēton wǣg niman,

  flōd fæðmian frætwa hyrde.

  3135 Þǣr wæs wunden gold on wǣn hladen,

  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 —

  3135 countless quite! — and the king was borne,

  ǣghwæs unrīm, æðeling boren,

  hār hilde-rinc tō Hrones næsse.

  hoary hero, to Hronës-Ness.

  XLIII. BĒOWULF’S FUNERAL PYRE.

  Him þā gegiredan Gēata lēode

  ād on eorðan un-wāclīcne,

  3140 helmum behongen, hilde-bordum,

  Then fashioned for him the folk of Geats

  firm on the earth a funeral-pile,

  and hung it with helmets and harness of war

  3140 and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;

  beorhtum byrnum, swā hē bēna wæs;

  ālegdon þā tō-middes mǣrne þēoden

  hæleð hīofende, hlāford lēofne.

  Ongunnon þā on beorge bǣl-fy¯ra mǣst

  3145 wīgend weccan: wudu-rēc āstāh

  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

  3145 black over blaze, and blent was the roar

  sweart ofer swioðole, swōgende lēg,

  wōpe bewunden (wind-blond gelæg)

  oð þæt hē þā bān-hūs gebrocen hæfde,

  hāt on hreðre. Higum unrōte

  3150 mōd-ceare mǣndon mon-dryhtnes cwealm;

  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.

  3150 Wailing her woe, the widow old,

  swylce giōmor-gyd lat . con meowle

  . . . . . wunden heorde . . .

  serg (?) cearig sǣlde geneahhe

  þæt hīo hyre . . . . gas hearde

  3155 . . . . . ede wælfylla wonn . .

  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,

  3155 and shame. — The smoke by the sky was devoured.

  hildes egesan hyðo

  haf mid heofon rēce swealh (?)

  Geworhton þā Wedra lēode

  hlǣw on hlīðe, sē wæs hēah and brād,

  3160 wǣg-līðendum wīde gesy¯ne,

  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,

  3160 the battle
-brave’s beacon. Round brands of the pyre

  and betimbredon on ty¯n dagum

  beadu-rōfes bēcn: bronda betost

  wealle beworhton, swā hyt weorðlīcost

  fore-snotre men findan mihton.

  3165 Hī on beorg dydon bēg and siglu,

  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,

  3165 hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, —

  eall swylce hyrsta, swylce on horde ǣr

  nīð-hy¯dige men genumen hæfdon;

  forlēton eorla gestrēon eorðan healdan,

  gold on grēote, þǣr hit nū gēn lifað

  3170 eldum swā unnyt, swā hit ǣror wæs.

  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,

  3170 atheling-born, a band of twelve,

  Þā ymbe hlǣw riodan hilde-dēore,

  æðelinga bearn ealra twelfa,

  woldon ceare cwīðan, kyning mǣnan,

  word-gyd wrecan and ymb wer sprecan,

  3175 eahtodan eorl-scipe and his ellen-weorc

  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

  3175 that men their master-friend mightily laud,

  duguðum dēmdon, swā hit ge-dēfe bið,

  þæt mon his wine-dryhten wordum herge,

  ferhðum frēoge, þonne hē forð scile

  of līc-haman lǣne weorðan.

  3180 Swā begnornodon Gēata lēode

  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:

  3180 quoth that of all the kings of earth,

  hlāfordes hryre, heorð-genēatas,

  cwǣdon þæt hē wǣre woruld-cyning

  mannum mildust and mon-þwǣrust,

  lēodum līðost and lof-geornost.

  of men he was mildest and most belovéd,

  to his kin the kindest, keenest for praise.

  THE ATTACK ON FINNSBURG.

  “. . . . . . . . næs byrnað nǣfre.”

  Hleoðrode þā heaðo-geong cyning:

  “Ne þis ne dagað ēastan, ne hēr draca ne flēogeð,

  “ne hēr þisse healle hornas ne byrnað,

  5 “ac fēr forð berað fugelas singað,

  “No gables are burning.” —

  Then cried to his band the battle-young king:

  “ ’Tis no dawn from eastward; no dragon flies;

  nor burn on this hall the hornéd gables:

  5 but hither comes bearing a hostile band

  “gylleð grǣg-hama, gūð-wudu hlynneð,

  “scyld scefte oncwyð. Nū scy¯neð þes mōna

  “waðol under wolcnum; nū ārīsað wēa-dǣda,

  “þē þisne folces nīð fremman willað.

  10 “Ac onwacnigeað nū, wīgend mīne,

  its battle-gear bright: the birds are calling,

  “gray-coat” howls, and harsh dins the war-wood,

  shield answers shaft. Yon shines the moon

  full from the clouds; and foul deeds rise

  10 to whelm this people with peril and death.

  “hebbað ēowre handa, hicgeað on ellen,

  “winnað on orde, wesað on mōde!”

  Þā ārās monig gold-hladen þegn, gyrde hine his swurde;

  þā tō dura ēodon drihtlīce cempan,

  15 Sigeferð and Eaha, hyra sweord getugon,

  But waken ye now, warriors mine;

  seize your shields, be steadfast in valor,

  fight at the front, and fearless bide!”

  Then rose from rest, with ready courage,

  15 many gold-decked thanes, and girt them with swords.

  and æt ōðrum durum Ordlāf and Gūðlāf,

  and Hengest sylf; hwearf him on lāste.

  Þā gīt Gārulf Gūðere styrode,

  þæt hīe swā frēolīc feorh forman sīðe

  20 tō þǣre healle durum hyrsta ne bǣran,

  Then went to the door those warriors doughty,

  Sigeferth and Eawa, swords they drew;

  to the other entrance, Ordlaf and Guthlaf,

  whom Hengest himself all hastily followed.

  20 Yet with Garulf pleaded Guthere then

  nū hyt nīða heard ānyman wolde:

  ac hē frægn ofer eal undearninga,

  dēor-mōd hæleð, hwā þā duru hēolde.

  “Sigeferð is mīn nama (cwæð hē), ic eom Secgena lēod,

  25 “wrecca wīde cūð. Fela ic wēana gebād,

  to draw no sword at the door of the hall

  nor risk at first rush his royal life

  where the rugged-in-war would wrest it from him.

  But he cried across all in no craven’s voice,

  25 hardy hero: “Who holds the door?”

  “heardra hilda; þē is gy¯t hēr witod,

  “swæðer þū sylf tō mē sēcean wylle.”

  Þā wæs on wealle wæl-slihta gehlyn,

  sceolde cēlod bord cēnum on handa

  30 bān-helm berstan. Buruh-þelu dynede,

  “Sigeferth my name is, Secgas’ prince,

  wide-heralded hero: heavy my trials,

  hard wars that I waged; there awaits thee now

  such as thyself would serve to me!”

  30 Then din by the door from death-blows sounded;

  oð þæt æt þǣre gūðe Gārulf gecrang,

  ealra ǣrest eorð-būendra,

  Gūðlāfes sunu; ymbe hine gōdra fela.

  Hwearf flacra hrǣw hræfn, wandrode

  35 sweart and sealo-brūn; swurd-lēoma stōd

  in hands of heroes were hewn the shields,

  the bone-helms burst; and the burg-floor groaned,

  until in the grim fight Garulf fell

  first of the earls of earth-dwellers there,

  35 Guthlaf’s son, and good men beside him.

  swylce eal Finns-buruh fy¯renu wǣre.

  Ne gefrægn ic nǣfre wurðlīcor æt wera hilde

  sixtig sige-beorna sēl gebǣran,

  ne nǣfre swānas swētne medo sēl forgyldan,

  40 þonne Hnæfe guldon his hæg-stealdas.

  Sank still the slain: wide circled the raven

  sallow-brown, swarthy: the sword-light gleamed

  as if Finn’s whole burg were blazing with fire.

  Never heard I that worthier warring men,

  40 conquerors sixty, more splendidly fought,

  Hig fuhton fīf dagas, swā hyra nān ne fēol

  driht-gesīða, ac hig þā duru hēoldon.

  Þā gewāt him wund hæleð on wæg gangan,

  sǣde þæt his byrne ābrocen wǣre,

  45 here-sceorpum hrōr, and ēac wæs his helm þyrl.

  and for mead-draughts sweet such service rendered,

  as hero-liegemen paid Hnæf their lord!

  Five days fought they in full succession,

  five nights as well; but none was slain

  45 of those doughty warriors warding the door.

  Þā hine sōna frægn folces hyrde,

  hū þā wīgend hyra wunda genǣson

  oððe hwæðer þǣra hyssa . . . . . . .

  Then wended away a wounded clansman,

  said that his breastplate was broken sore,

  his harness hewn, his helmet pierced.

  Swiftly then asked the shepherd-of-folk

  50 how the warriors all their wounds were bearing,

  or which one, now, of the heroes twain . . .

 
Vänern, the largest lake in Sweden — in ‘Beowulf’, the hero fights the dragon in a place called Earnanæs on the shores of this lake in Geatland. After successfully killing the dragon, Beowulf also dies.

 

 

 


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