But thou of thy brethren the banesman becamest, Yea thine head-kin forsooth, for which in h.e.l.l shalt thou Dree weird of d.a.m.nation, though doughty thy wit be; For unto thee say I forsooth, son of Ecglaf, 590 That so many deeds never Grendel had done, That monster the loathly, against thine own lord, The shaming in Hart-hall, if suchwise thy mind were, And thy soul e'en as battle-fierce, such as thou sayest.

But he, he hath fram'd it that the feud he may heed not, The fearful edge-onset that is of thy folk, Nor sore need be fearful of the Victory-Scyldings.

The need-pledges taketh he, no man he spareth Of the folk of the Danes, driveth war as he l.u.s.teth, Slayeth and feasteth unweening of strife 600 With them of the Spear-Danes. But I, I shall show it, The Geats' wightness and might ere the time weareth old, Shall bide him in war-tide. Then let him go who may go High-hearted to mead, sithence when the morn-light O'er the children of men of the second day hence, The sun clad in heaven's air, shines from the southward.

Then merry of heart was the meter of treasures, The h.o.a.ry-man'd war-renown'd, help now he trow'd in; The lord of the Bright-Danes on Beowulf hearken'd, The folk-shepherd knew him, his fast-ready mind. 610 There was laughter of heroes, and high the din rang And winsome the words were. Went Wealhtheow forth, The Queen she of Hrothgar, of courtesies mindful, The gold-array'd greeted the grooms in the hall, The free and frank woman the beaker there wended, And first to the East-Dane-folk's fatherland's warder, And bade him be blithe at the drinking of beer, To his people beloved, and l.u.s.tily took he The feast and the hall-cup, that victory-fam'd King.

Then round about went she, the Dame of the Helmings, 620 And to doughty and youngsome, each deal of the folk there, Gave cups of the treasure, till now it betid That to Beowulf duly the Queen the ring-dighted, Of mind high uplifted, the mead-beaker bare.

Then she greeted the Geat-lord, and gave G.o.d the thank, She, the wisefast In words, that the will had wax'd in her In one man of the earls to have trusting and troth For comfort from crimes. But the cup then he took, The slaughter-fierce warrior, from Wealhtheow the Queen.

And then rim'd he the word, making ready for war, 630 And Beowulf spake forth, the Ecgtheow's bairn: E'en that in mind had I when up on holm strode I, And in sea-boat sat down with a band of my men, That for once and for all the will of your people Would I set me to work, or on slaughter-field cringe Fast in grip of the fiend; yea and now shall I frame The valour of earl-folk, or else be abiding The day of mine end, here down in the mead-hall.

To the wife those his words well liking they were, The big word of the Geat; and the gold-adorn'd wended, 640 The frank and free Queen to sit by her lord.

And thereafter within the high hall was as erst The proud word outspoken and bliss on the people, Was the sound of the victory-folk, till on a sudden The Healfdene's son would now be a-seeking His rest of the even: wotted he for the Evil Within the high hall was the Hild-play bedight, Sithence that the sun-light no more should they see, When night should be darkening, and down over all The shapes of the shadow-helms should be a-striding 650 Wan under the welkin. Uprose then all war-folk; Then greeted the glad-minded one man the other, Hrothgar to Beowulf, bidding him hail, And the wine-hall to wield, and withal quoth the word: Never to any man erst have I given, Since the hand and the shield's round aloft might I heave, This high hall of the Dane-folk, save now unto thee.

Have now and hold the best of all houses, Mind thee of fame, show the might of thy valour!

Wake the wroth one: no lack shall there be to thy willing 660 If that wight work thou win and life therewithal.

XI. NOW IS BEOWULF LEFT IN THE HALL ALONE WITH HIS MEN.

Then wended him Hrothgar with the band of his warriors, The high-ward of the Scyldings from out of the hall, For then would the war-lord go seek unto Wealhtheow The Queen for a bed-mate. The glory of king-folk Against Grendel had set, as men have heard say, A hall-ward who held him a service apart In the house of the Dane-lord, for eoten-ward held he.

Forsooth he, the Geat-lord, full gladly he trowed In the might of his mood and the grace of the Maker. 670 Therewith he did off him his byrny of iron And the helm from his head, and his dighted sword gave, The best of all irons, to the thane that abode him, And bade him to hold that harness of battle.

Bespake then the good one, a big word he gave out, Beowulf the Geat, ere on the bed strode he: Nowise in war I deem me more lowly In the works of the battle than Grendel, I ween; So not with the sword shall I lull him to slumber, Or take his life thuswise, though to me were it easy; 680 Of that good wise he wots not, to get the stroke on me, To hew on my shield, for as stark as he shall be In the works of the foeman. So we twain a night-tide Shall forgo the sword, if he dare yet to seek The war without weapons. Sithence the wise G.o.d, The Lord that is holy, on which hand soever The glory may doom as due to him seemeth.

Bowed down then the war-deer, the cheek-bolster took The face of the earl; and about him a many Of sea-warriors bold to their hall-slumber bow'd them; 690 No one of them thought that thence away should he Seek ever again to his home the beloved, His folk or his free burg, where erst he was fed; For of men had they learn'd that o'er mickle a many In that wine-hall aforetime the fell death had gotten Of the folk of the Danes; but the Lord to them gave it, To the folk of the Weders, the web of war-speeding, Help fair and good comfort, e'en so that their foeman Through the craft of one man all they overcame, By the self-might of one. So is manifest truth 700 That G.o.d the Almighty the kindred of men Hath wielded wide ever. Now by wan night there came, There strode in the shade-goer; slept there the shooters, They who that horn-house should be a-holding, All men but one man: to men was that known, That them indeed might not, since will'd not the Maker, The scather unceasing drag off 'neath the shadow; But he ever watching in wrath 'gainst the wroth one Mood-swollen abided the battle-mote ever.

XII. GRENDEL COMETH INTO HART: OF THE STRIFE BETWIXT HIM AND BEOWULF.

Came then from the moor-land, all under the mist-bents, 710 Grendel a-going there, bearing G.o.d's anger.

The scather the ill one was minded of mankind To have one in his toils from the high hall aloft.

'Neath the welkin he waded, to the place whence the wine-house, The gold-hall of men, most yarely he wist With gold-plates fair coloured; nor was it the first time That he unto Hrothgar's high home had betook him.

Never he in his life-days, either erst or thereafter, Of warriors more hardy or hall-thanes had found.

Came then to the house the wight on his ways, 720 Of all joys bereft; and soon sprang the door open, With fire-bands made fast, when with hand he had touch'd it; Brake the bale-heedy, he with wrath bollen, The mouth of the house there, and early thereafter On the shiny-fleck'd floor thereof trod forth the fiend; On went he then mood-wroth, and out from his eyes stood Likest to fire-flame light full unfair.

In the high house beheld he a many of warriors, A host of men sib all sleeping together, Of man-warriors a heap; then laugh'd out his mood; 730 In mind deem'd he to sunder, or ever came day, The monster, the fell one, from each of the men there The life from the body; for befell him a boding Of fulfilment of feeding: but weird now it was not That he any more of mankind thenceforward Should eat, that night over. Huge evil beheld then The Hygelac's kinsman, and how the foul scather All with his fear-grips would fare there before him; How never the monster was minded to tarry, For speedily gat he, and at the first stour, 740 A warrior a-sleeping, and unaware slit him, Bit his bone-coffer, drank blood a-streaming, Great gobbets swallow'd in; thenceforth soon had he Of the unliving one every whit eaten To hands and feet even: then forth strode he nigher, And took hold with his hand upon him the highhearted.

The warrior a-resting; reach'd out to himwards The fiend with his hand, gat fast on him rathely With thought of all evil, and besat him his arm.

Then swiftly was finding the herdsman of fouldeeds 750 That forsooth he had met not in Middle-garth ever, In the parts of the earth, in any man else A hand-grip more mighty; then wax'd he of mood Heart-fearful, but none the more outward might he; Hence-eager his heart was to the darkness to hie him, And the devil-dray seek: not there was his service E'en such as he found in his life-days before.

Then to heart laid the good one, the Hygelac's kinsman, His speech of the even-tide; uplong he stood And fast with him grappled, till bursted his fingers. 760 The eoten was out-fain, but on strode the earl.

The mighty fiend minded was, whereso he might, To wind him about more widely away thence, And flee fenwards; he found then the might of his fingers In the grip of the fierce one; sorry faring was that Which he, the harm-scather, had taken to Hart.

The warrior-hall dinn'd now; unto all Danes there waxed, To the castle-abiders, to each of the keen ones, To all earls, as an ale-dearth. Now angry were both Of the fierce mighty warriors, far rang out the hall-house; 770 Then mickle the wonder it was that the wine-hall Withstood the two war-deer, nor welter'd to earth The fair earthly dwelling; but all fast was it builded Within and without with the banding of iron By crafty thought smithy'd. But there from the sill bow'd Fell many a mead-bench, by hearsay of mine, With gold well adorned, where strove they the wrothful.

Hereof never ween'd they, the wise of the Scyldings, That ever with might should any of men The excellent, bone-dight, break into pieces, 780 Or unlock with cunning, save the light fire's embracing In smoke should it swallow. So uprose the roar New and enough; now fell on the North-Danes Ill fear and the terror, on each and on all men, Of them who from wall-top hearken'd the weeping, Even G.o.d's foeman singing the fear-lay, The triumphless song, and the wound-bewailing Of the thrall of the h.e.l.l; for there now fast held him He who of men of main was the mightiest In that day which is told of, the day of this life. 790

XIII. BEOWULF HATH THE VICTORY: GRENDEL IS HURT DEADLY AND LEAVETH HAND AND ARM IN THE HALL.

Naught would the earls' help for anything thenceforth That murder-comer yet quick let loose of, Nor his life-days forsooth to any of folk Told he for useful. Out then drew full many Of Beowult's earls the heir-loom of old days, For their lord and their master's fair life would hey ward, That mighty of princes, if so might they do it.

For this did they know not when they the strife dreed, Those hardy-minded men of the battle, And on every half there thought to be hewing, 800 And search out his soul, that the ceaseless scather Not any on earth of the choice of all irons, Not one of the war-bills, would greet home for ever.

For he had forsworn him from victory-weapons, And each one of edges. But his sundering of soul In the days that we tell of, the day of this life, Should be weary and woeful, the ghost wending elsewhere To the wielding of fiends to wend him afar.

Then found he out this, he who mickle erst made Out of mirth of his mood unto children of men 810 And had fram'd many crimes, he the foeman of G.o.d, That the body of him would not bide to avail him, But the hardy of mood, even Hygelac's kinsman, Had him fast by the hand: now was each to the other All loathly while living: his body-sore bided The monster: was manifest now on his shoulder The unceasing wound, sprang the sinews asunder, The bone-lockers bursted. To Beowulf now Was the battle-fame given; should Grendel thenceforth Flee life-sick awayward and under the fen-bents 820 Seek his unmerry stead: now wist he more surely That ended his life was, and gone over for ever, His day-tale told out. But was for all Dane-folk After that slaughter-race all their will done.

Then had he cleans'd for them, he the far-comer, Wise and stout-hearted, the high hall of Hrothgar, And say'd it from war. So the night-work he joy'd in And his doughty deed done. Yea, but he for the East-Danes That lord of the Geat-folk his boast's end had gotten, Withal their woes bygone all had he booted, 830 And the sorrow hate-fashion'd that afore they had dreed, And the hard need and bitter that erst they must bear, The sorrow unlittle. Sithence was clear token When the deer of the battle laid down there the hand The arm and the shoulder, and all there together Of the grip of that Grendel 'neath the great roof upbuilded.

XIV. THE DANES REJOICE; THEY GO TO LOOK ON THE SLOT OF GRENDEL, AND COME BACK TO HART, AND ON THE WAY MAKE MERRY WITH RACING AND THE TELLING OF TALES.

There was then on the morning, as I have heard tell it, Round the gift-hall a many of men of the warriors: Were faring folk-leaders from far and from near O'er the wide-away roads the wonder to look on, 840 The track of the loathly: his life-sundering nowise Was deem'd for a sorrow to any of men there Who gaz'd on the track of the gloryless wight; How he all a-weary of mood thence awayward, Brought to naught in the battle, to the mere of the nicors, Now fey and forth-fleeing, his life-steps had flitted.

There all in the blood was the sea-brim a-welling, The dread swing of the waves was washing all mingled With hot blood; with the gore of the sword was it welling; The death-doom'd had dyed it, sithence he unmerry 850 In his fen-hold had laid down the last of his life, His soul of the heathen, and h.e.l.l gat hold on him.

Thence back again far'd they those fellows of old, With many a young one, from their wayfaring merry, Full proud from the mere-side on mares there a-riding The warriors on white steeds. There then was of Beowulf Set forth the might mighty; oft quoth it a many That nor northward nor southward beside the twin sea-floods, Over all the huge earth's face now never another, Never under the heaven's breadth, was there a better, 860 Nor of wielders of war-shields a worthier of kingship; But neither their friendly lord blam'd they one whit, Hrothgar the glad, for good of kings was he.

There whiles the warriors far-famed let leap Their fair fallow horses and fare into flyting Where unto them the earth-ways for fair-fashion'd seemed, Through their choiceness well kenned; and whiles a king's thane, A warrior vaunt-laden, of lays grown bemindful, E'en he who all many of tales of the old days A mult.i.tude minded, found other words also 870 Sooth-bounden, and boldly the man thus began E'en Beowulf's wayfare well wisely to stir, With good speed to set forth the spells well areded And to shift about words. And well of all told he That he of Sigemund erst had heard say, Of the deeds of his might; and many things uncouth: Of the strife of the Waelsing and his wide wayfarings, Of those that men's children not well yet they wist, The feud and the crimes, save Fitela with him; Somewhat of such things yet would he say, 880 The eme to the nephew; e'en as they aye were In all strife soever fellows full needful; And full many had they of the kin of the eotens Laid low with the sword. And to Sigemund upsprang After his death-day fair doom unlittle Sithence that the war-hard the Worm there had quelled, The herd of the h.o.a.rd; he under the h.o.a.r stone, The bairn of the Atheling, all alone dar'd it, That wight deed of deeds; with him Fitela was not.

But howe'er, his hap was that the sword so through-waded 890 The Worm the all-wondrous, that in the wall stood The iron dear-wrought: and the drake died the murder.

There had the warrior so won by wightness, That he of the ring-h.o.a.rd the use might be having All at his own will. The sea-boat he loaded, And into the ship's barm bore the bright fretwork Waels' son. In the hotness the Worm was to-molten.

Now he of all wanderers was widely the greatest Through the peoples of man-kind, the warder of warriors, By mighty deeds; erst then and early he throve. 900 Now sithence the warfare of Heremod waned, His might and his valour, amidst of the eotens To the wielding of foemen straight was he betrayed, And speedily sent forth: by the surges of sorrow O'er-long was he lam'd, became he to his lieges, To all of the athelings, a life-care thenceforward.

Withal oft bemoaned in times that were older The ways of that stout heart many a carle of the wisest.

Who trow'd in him boldly for booting of bales, And had look'd that the king's bairn should ever be thriving, 910 His father's own lordship should take, hold the folk, The h.o.a.rd and the ward-burg, and realm of the heroes, The own land of the Scyldings. To all men was Beowulf, The Hygelac's kinsman to the kindred of menfolk, More fair unto friends; but on Heremod crime fell.

So whiles the men flyting the fallow street there With their mares were they meting. There then was the morn-light Thrust forth and hasten'd; went many a warrior All hardy of heart to the high hall aloft The rare wonder to see; and the King's self withal 920 From the bride-bower wended, the warder of ring-h.o.a.rds, All glorious he trod and a mickle troop had he, He for choice ways beknown; and his Queen therewithal Meted the mead-path with a meyny of maidens.

XV. KING HROTHGAR AND HIS THANES LOOK ON THE ARM OF GRENDEL.

CONVERSE BETWIXT HROTHGAR AND BEOWULF CONCERNING THE BATTLE.

Out then spake Hrothgar; for he to the hall went, By the staple a-standing the steep roof he saw Shining fair with the gold, and the hand there of Grendel: For this sight that I see to the All-wielder thanks Befall now forthwith, for foul evil I bided, All griefs from this Grendel; but G.o.d, glory's Herder, 930 Wonder on wonder ever can work.

Unyore was it then when I for myself Might ween never more, wide all through my life-days, Of the booting of woes; when all blood-besprinkled The best of all houses stood sword-gory here; Wide then had the woe thrust off each of the wise Of them that were looking that never life-long That land-work of the folk they might ward from the loathly, From ill wights and devils. But now hath a warrior Through the might of the Lord a deed made thereunto 940 Which we, and all we together, in nowise By wisdom might work. What! well might be saying That maid whosoever this son brought to birth According to man's kind, if yet she be living, That the Maker of old time to her was all-gracious In the bearing of bairns. O Beowulf, I now Thee best of all men as a son unto me Will love in my heart, and hold thou henceforward Our kinship new-made now; nor to thee shall be lacking As to longings of world-goods whereof I have wielding; 950 Full oft I for lesser things guerdon have given, The worship of h.o.a.rds, to a warrior was weaker, A worser in strife. Now thyself for thyself By deeds hast thou fram'd it that liveth thy fair fame For ever and ever. So may the All-wielder With good pay thee ever, as erst he hath done it.

Then Beowulf spake out, the Ecgtheow's bairn: That work of much might with mickle of love We framed with fighting, and frowardly ventur'd The might of the uncouth; now I would that rather 960 Thou mightest have look'd on the very man there, The foe in his fret-gear all worn unto falling.

There him in all haste with hard griping did I On the slaughter-bed deem it to bind him indeed, That he for my hand-grip should have to be lying All busy for life: but his body fled off.

Him then, I might not (since would not the Maker) From his wayfaring sunder, nor naught so well sought I The life-foe; o'er-mickle of might was he yet, The foeman afoot: but his hand has he left us, 970 A life-ward, a-warding the ways of his wending, His arm and his shoulder therewith. Yet in nowise That wretch of the grooms any solace hath got him, Nor longer will live the loathly deed-doer, Beswinked with sins; for the sore hath him now In the grip of need grievous, in strait hold togather'd With bonds that be baleful: there shall he abide, That wight dyed with all evil-deeds, the doom mickle, For what wise to him the bright Maker will write it.

Then a silenter man was the son there of Ecglaf 980 In the speech of the boasting of works of the battle, After when every atheling by craft of the earl Over the high roof had look'd on the hand there, Yea, the fiend's fingers before his own eyen, Each one of the nail-steads most like unto steel, Hand-spur of the heathen one; yea, the own claw Uncouth of the war-wight. But each one there quoth it, That no iron of the best, of the hardy of folk, Would touch him at all, which e'er of the monster The battle-hand b.l.o.o.d.y might bear away thence. 990

XVI. HROTHGAR GIVETH GIFTS TO BEOWULF.

Then was speedily bidden that Hart be withinward By hand of man well adorn'd; was there a many Of warriors and wives, who straightway that wine-house The guest-house, bedight them: there gold-shotten shone The webs over the walls, many wonders to look on For men every one who on such things will stare.

Was that building the bright all broken about All withinward, though fast in the bands of the iron; Asunder the hinges rent, only the roof there Was saved all sound, when the monster of evil 1000 The guilty of crime-deeds had gat him to flight Never hoping for life. Nay, lightly now may not That matter be fled from, frame it whoso may frame it.

But by strife man shall win of the bearers of souls, Of the children of men, compelled by need, The abiders on earth, the place made all ready, The stead where his body laid fast on his death-bed Shall sleep after feast. Now time and place was it When unto the hall went that Healfdene's son, And the King himself therein the feast should be sharing; 1010 Never heard I of men-folk in fellowship more About their wealth-giver so well themselves bearing.

Then bow'd unto bench there the abounders in riches And were fain of their fill. Full fairly there took A many of mead-cups the kin of those men, The st.u.r.dy of heart in the hall high aloft, Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Hart there withinward Of friends was fulfilled; naught there that was guilesome The folk of the Scyldings for yet awhile framed.

Gave then to Beowulf Healfdene's bairn 1020 A golden war-ensign, the victory's guerdon, A staff-banner fair-dight, a helm and a byrny: The great jewel-sword a many men saw them Bear forth to the hero. Then Beowulf took The cup on the floor, and nowise of that fee-gift Before the shaft-shooters the shame need he have.

Never heard I how friendlier four of the treasures, All gear'd with the gold about, many men erewhile On the ale-bench have given to others of men.

Round the roof of the helm, the burg of the head, 1030 A wale wound with wires held ward from without-ward, So that the file-leavings might not over fiercely, Were they never so shower-hard, scathe the shield-bold, When he 'gainst the angry in anger should get him.

Therewith bade the earls' burg that eight of the horses With cheek-plates adorned be led down the floor In under the fences; on one thereof stood A saddle all craft-bedeck'd, seemly with treasure.

That same was the war-seat of the high King full surely Whenas that the sword-play that Healfdene's son 1040 Would work; never failed in front of the war The wide-kenn'd one's war-might, whereas fell the slain.