Beowulf Read online

  What he long has held too little contents him

  1750

  greed grapples him he gives no longer

  gold-patterned rings reckons no ending

  of borrowed treasure-years bright earth-fortune

  granted by God the great Measurer.

  The last of splendor slips into darkness

  that loaned king-body cracks upon the pyre

  swirls away in smoke—soon another one

  steps to the gift-throne shares his goldhoard

  turns that treachery to trust and reward.

  Guard against life-bale beloved Beowulf

  1760

  best of warriors and win for your soul

  eternal counsel—do not care for pride

  great shield-champion! The glory of your strength

  lasts for a while but not long after

  sickness or spear-point will sever you from life

  or the fire’s embrace or the flood’s welling

  or the file-hard sword or the flight of a spear

  or bane-bearing age—the brightness of your eye

  will dim and darken. Destiny is waiting

  and death will take you down into the earth.

  1770

  I have held the Shield-Danes for half a century

  ruled them under heaven harbored them from war

  against many a people on this proud earthyard—

  no enemy to peace asking for bloodshed

  spearshaft or swordedge for settlement of feuds.

  Then in my homeland happiness departed

  joy turned to sorrow when jealous-mad Grendel

  careless murderer came into my hall—

  through long winters I leaned on my sorrow

  a breaking of mind. To the bright Measurer

  1780

  thanks for deliverance from long heartache,

  for this swordstruck head severed from that murderer

  this grim death-trophy through the Deemer’s mercy.

  But sit now to banquet songs and ale-cups

  with your hearth-companions. By peaceful morninglight

  goldgifts will travel from my treasure to you.”

  Beowulf was gladdened by those bountiful words

  sat by the gift-throne with his Geats around him.

  Bright bench-laughter bore to the rafters

  sounds of victory servants brought ale-cups

  1790

  to Geats and to Danes. Then dark night-shadows

  loomed above the hall. Hrothgar rose then

  king of the Spear-Danes called for night-sleep

  for silence and peace. Soon then Beowulf

  yearning for bedrest bent to his hall-bench

  sank gratefully to slumber in Heorot

  once more a night-guest in that mighty hallroom.

  The Danes’ thane-servant thoughtful of their needs

  spread bench-covers bore final cupfuls

  readied the meadhall for rest in the night.

  1800

  The great-hearted slept in that steep-gabled hall

  tall and gold-trimmed—Geats rested there

  till the black-shining raven raised morning-gray

  a lifting of darkness. Dawnlight came shoving

  bright above Heorot banishing night-creatures.

  Hygelac’s thanes hailed the sunrise

  yearned for the sea a sail to carry them

  to that known headland the hall of their king.

  Their hero commanded Hrunting to be borne

  returned to Unferth old Ecglaf’s son

  1810

  urged him to take it—he told well of it

  thanked him for the loan of that long-famed warblade

  shining warrior-steel sharp helmet-bane

  when good men gather to gamble their lives.

  Then sea-ready warriors with their strong weapons

  yearned to be gone. Their good sail-skipper

  stepped to the gift-throne stood before the king—

  gladman Hrothgar hailed him once more.

  Beowulf spoke son of Ecgtheow:

  “Now we Geat-thanes guests across the sea

  1820

  are set for sailing over steep wave-rolls

  home to Hygelac. Here you welcomed us

  opened your goldhoard granted us treasures.

  If ever on this earth I may earn your love

  help you in sorrow sickness or defeat

  save you from slaughter my ship will return.

  If news comes to me across the seaswell

  that scurrilous neighbors scheme for your life

  trap you in Heorot like those hell-spawned demons

  I will sail back to you bring you an army

  1830

  thousands of linden-shields. My lord Hygelac

  king of the Geats kin and battle-friend

  still young in winters stands behind me—

  he will back me well when I bring help to you

  a forest of spears file-sharp warblades

  a navy of shieldmen when your need is great.

  If Hrethric travels to the home of the Geats

  I promise you now, proud treasure-king,

  he will find friends there. Fortune abroad

  comes to the sailor who himself prevails.”

  1840

  Hrothgar answered helm of the Danes:

  “These stronghearted words were sent down to you

  from the high Wielder. I have heard no man

  so young in winters so wealthy in thought.

  You are strong in body bold in mind-courage

  wise within your words. I will wager you now

  if it comes to the Geats that cold battle-death

  a whining spearshaft or sharp battle-blade

  sends from this earth that son of Hrethel—

  if age or steel strikes down your uncle

  1850

  leads your dear king from these loaned earth-days

  and you live after him beloved Beowulf—

  Geats will not find a greater hall-thane

  to raise to their gift-throne. Your good mindthoughts

  bring more pleasure the more you stay with us.

  You’ve brought to us all to both our people

  to men of the Geats and these good Spear-Danes

  peace between us no time for warplay

  anger and hatred as in earlier days.

  As long as I wield this wide kingdom

  1860

  gifts will take ship from shore to shore

  gold will bring greetings to Götland from Denmark

  the ring-prowed ship will shove across the waves

  gifts and love-tokens. We will live in friendship

  forged against enemies fast in loyalty

  your people and mine proud blood-brothers.”

  Then Hrothgar gave to his good heart-son

  twelve treasure-gifts to that tall champion

  bade him go then to greet Hygelac

  sail there in safety with his strong prowship.

  1870

  Then the old battle-king embraced his hero

  clasped him in his arms kissed him farewell

  with tears of regret for that time of parting

  sweet sorrow-thoughts. It seemed to them both

  the old wiseman and the warrior from Götland

  that no more in that life loaned by the Measurer

  would they share hearth-words. To the Shield-Danes’ king

  that young sea-warrior was so strongly beloved

  it swelled in his heart surged with regret

  that this son of Ecgtheow would sail far from him

  1880

  back towards his home. Then Beowulf left

  gold-proud warrior gladdened with treasure

  measured the sea-path. His sail was waiting

  riding on anchor ready for the sea.

  The bountiful gifts of that good Dane-lord

  were praised by the men. That proud hall-king


  was blameless in all best of warriors

  till age wearied him withered his strength.

  They came to the sea sailors from abroad

  a band of warriors bearing ring-corselets

  1890

  linked armor-mail. The landwarden watched

  as their burnished weapons winked in the sun—

  from the high cliff-top he hailed all of them,

  no challenge in his heart but cheerful greeting,

  rode to meet them made them welcome

  in their bright armor back to their keel-ship.

  The sand-bound vessel soon was gift-laden

  its broad board-deck burdened with gold

  horses and treasures—the high mast towered

  over Hrothgar’s bounty bright with rewards.

  1900

  To the good beach-guard Beowulf gave then

  a gold-wound sword a gift to honor him

  on the benches of Heorot bettered by that weapon

  sword for a champion.

  The ship took wind

  drove across the waves from the Danish cliff-coast.

  The sail grew taut tugged by ocean-winds

  mast-ropes trembled tight sail-anchors—

  piling seaswells pounded clinker-boards

  bound for Götland—the good wave-cutter

  plunged into the foam flew with sail-wing

  1910

  followed the swan-road skimmed across the sea

  till headlands of home hovered above them

  the known seacliffs—nudged by the wind

  the keel carried them to calm shore-sand.

  The coastguard came riding ready for beaching—

  through long watch-days he waited for their mast

  gazed at the skyline for signs of homecoming.

  They roped to shore-sand the ring-prowed ship

  lashed to its anchor the lean wave-plow

  safe from surf-crashing surging water-throngs.

  1920

  Treasures were borne from the broad ship-bosom

  war-gear and horses. The high meadhall

  lifted its gables by the looming seawall

  where Hygelac waited wise Hrethel’s son

  good treasure-king with his Geats around him.

  The hall towered there high above the sea

  where Hygd the fair one Haereth’s daughter-child

  waited with her king wise and generous

  though young in winters worthy folk-queen

  made for a kingdom—no miser was she

  1930

  with gifts to her Geats gold and weapons

  treasure from her hands.

  AT THIS POINT a nameless woman is abruptly introduced as a contrast to Hygd and a puzzle to Beowulf scholars. A vicious torturer and man-killer before marriage, she is sent “overseas” by her father to marry King Offa, who tames her into a model queen, her progression thus being the opposite of Heremod’s. The abruptness of this allusion and obscurity of her name, also the elaborate praise of Offa, have caused much speculation about the possible spuriousness of this passage, and since two historic kings were named Offa—the first a Continental king of the Angles in the fourth century and the second an English king of the Mercians in the eighth—it is impossible to determine what the Beowulf poet had in mind, if indeed it is not an interpolation in honor of the Mercian king, in whose reign some critics have suggested that the poem may have been composed. Garmund is the father of the Continental Offa, Eomer is Offa’s son, and Hemming is their kin.

  Beowulf then predicts trouble between Danes and Heathobards, which will eventually lead to the burning of Heorot foreshadowed earlier in the poem. Hoping to settle an old feud, Hrothgar has betrothed his daughter Freawaru to Ingeld, son of King Froda of the Heathobards, who was slain by Danes in battle. Beowulf, in his report to Hygelac, then imagines that an old Heathobard warrior, incensed by a young member of Freawaru’s retinue who struts about wearing the sword of a slain Heathobard warrior, will urge the son of the slain warrior to take revenge, after which Ingeld will be forced to renew hostilities.

  Beowulf’s unpromising youth is a common folktale motif also found in a Latin life of Offa the Angle. Beowulf is granted a large landholding by Hygelac—“seven thousand,” the poet says, without further specification—but in any case it is nearly half of the Geatish kingdom, though somewhat less than Hygelac’s holding.

  She tortured and murdered

  powerful princess proud king’s daughter—

  not one hall-thane hero or servant

  save the fond father of that fearsome maid

  dared look at her by the light of day—

  his hands would be locked lashed with death-bonds

  no hope for his life—that harmless crime

  would soon be settled with a slashing blade

  swift swordbites would sever from life

  1940

  that pitiful wretch. No peaceful lady

  would torture her thanes truss them for death

  condemn to the blade dear retainers

  for imaginary insults to her maiden honor.

  Hemming’s kinsman calmed that slaughter-maid—

  ale-drinkers say that she softened hate-moments