The Tale of Beowulf Part 3

So to Beowulf thereon of either of both The Ingwines' high warder gave wielding to have, Both the war-steeds and weapons, and bade him well brook them.

Thuswise and so manly the mighty of princes, h.o.a.rd-warden of heroes, the battle-race paid With mares and with gems, so as no man shall blame them, E'en he who will say sooth aright as it is.

XVII. THEY FEAST IN HART.

THE GLEEMAN SINGS OF FINN AND HENGEST.

Then the lord of the earl-folk to every and each one 1050 Of them who with Beowulf the sea-ways had worn Then and there on the mead-bench did handsel them treasure, An heir-loom to wit; for him also he bade it That a were-gild be paid, whom Grendel aforetime By wickedness quell'd, as far more of them would he, Save from them G.o.d all-witting the weird away wended, And that man's mood withal. But the Maker all wielded Of the kindred of mankind, as yet now he doeth.

Therefore through-witting will be the best everywhere And the forethought of mind. Many things must abide 1060 Of lief and of loth, he who here a long while In these days of the strife with the world shall be dealing.

There song was and sound all gather'd together Of that Healfdene's warrior and wielder of battle, The wood of glee greeted, the lay wreaked often, Whenas the hall-game the minstrel of Hrothgar All down by the mead-bench tale must be making: By Finn's sons aforetime, when the fear gat them, The hero of Half-Danes, Hnaef of the Scyldings, On the slaughter-field Frisian needs must he fall. 1070 Forsooth never Hildeburh needed to hery The troth of the Eotens; she all unsinning Was lorne of her lief ones in that play of the linden, Her bairns and her brethren, by fate there they fell Spear-wounded. That was the all-woeful of women.

Not unduly without cause the daughter of Hoc Mourn'd the Maker's own shaping, sithence came the morn When she under the heavens that tide came to see, Murder-bale of her kinsmen, where most had she erewhile?

Of world's bliss. The war-tide took all men away 1080 Of Finn's thanes that were, save only a few; E'en so that he might not on the field of the meeting Hold Hengest a war-tide, or fight any whit, Nor yet s.n.a.t.c.h away thence by war the woe-leavings From the thane of the King; but terms now they bade him That for them other stead all for all should make room, A hall and high settle, whereof the half-wielding They with the Eotens' bairns henceforth might hold, And with fee-gifts moreover the son of Folkwalda Each day of the days the Danes should beworthy; 1090 The war-heap of Hengest with rings should he honour Even so greatly with treasure of treasures, Of gold all beplated, as he the kin Frisian Down in the beer-hall duly should dight.

Troth then they struck there each of the two halves, A peace-troth full fast. There Finn unto Hengest Strongly, unstrifeful, with oath-swearing swore, That he the woe-leaving by the doom of the wise ones Should hold in ail honour, that never man henceforth With word or with work the troth should be breaking, 1100 Nor through craft of the guileful should undo it ever, Though their ring-giver's bane they must follow in rank All lordless, e'en so need is it to be: But if any of Frisians by over-bold speaking The murderful hatred should call unto mind, Then naught but the edge of the sword should avenge it.

Then done was the oath there, and gold of the golden Heav'd up from the h.o.a.rd. Of the bold Here-Scyldings All yare on the bale was the best battle-warrior; On the death-howe beholden was easily there 1110 The sark stain'd with war-sweat, the all-golden swine, The iron-hard boar; there was many an atheling With wounds all outworn; some on slaughter-field welter'd.

But Hildeburh therewith on Hnaef's bale she bade them The own son of herself to set fast in the flame, His bone-vats to burn up and lay on the bale there: On his shoulder all woeful the woman lamented, Sang songs of bewailing, as the warrior strode upward, Wound up to the welkin that most of death-fires, Before the howe howled; there molten the heads were, 1120 The wound-gates burst open, there blood was out-springing From foe-bites of the body; the flame swallow'd all, The greediest of ghosts, of them that war gat him Of either of folks; shaken off was their life-breath.

XVIII. THE ENDING OF THE TALE OF FINN.

Departed the warriors their wicks to visit All forlorn of their friends now, Friesland to look on, Their homes and their high burg. Hengest a while yet Through the slaughter-dyed winter bode dwelling with Finn And all without strife: he remember'd his homeland, Though never he might o'er the mere be a-driving 1130 The high prow be-ringed: with storm the holm welter'd, Won war 'gainst the winds; winter locked the waves With bondage of ice, till again came another Of years into the garth, as yet it is ever, And the days which the season to watch never cease, The glory-bright weather; then gone was the winter, And fair was the earth's barm. Now hastened the exile.

The guest from the garths; he on getting of vengeance Of harms thought more greatly than of the sea's highway, If he but a wrath-mote might yet be a-wending 1140 Where the bairns of the Eotens might he still remember.

The ways of the world forwent he in nowise Then, whenas Hunlafing the light of the battle, The best of all bills, did into his breast, Whereof mid the Eotens were the edges well knowen.

Withal to the bold-hearted Finn befell after Sword-bales the deadly at his very own dwelling, When the grim grip of war Guthlaf and Oslaf After the sea-fare lamented with sorrow And wyted him deal of their woes; nor then might he 1150 In his breast hold his wavering heart. Was the hall dight With the lives of slain foemen, and slain eke was Finn The King 'midst of his court-men; and there the Queen, taken, The shooters of the Scyldings ferry'd down to the sea-s.h.i.+ps, And the house-wares and chattels the earth-king had had, E'en such as at Finn's home there might they find, Of collars and cunning gems. They on the sea-path The all-lordly wife to the Danes straightly wended, Led her home to their people. So sung was the lay, The song of the gleeman; then again arose game, 1160 The bench-voice wax'd brighter, gave forth the birlers Wine of the wonder-vats. Then came forth Wealhtheow Under gold ring a-going to where sat the two good ones, The uncle and nephew, yet of kindred unsunder'd, Each true to the other. Eke Unferth the spokesman Sat at feet of the Scyldings' lord; each of his heart trow'd That of mickle mood was he, though he to his kinsmen Were un-upright in edge-play. Spake the dame of the Scyldings: Now take thou this cup, my lord of the kingly, Bestower of treasures! Be thou in thy joyance, 1170 Thou gold-friend of men! and speak to these Geat-folk In mild words, as duly behoveth to do; Be glad toward the Geat-folk, and mindful of gifts; From anigh and from far peace hast thou as now.

To me one hath said it, that thou for a son wouldst This warrior be holding. Lo! Hart now is cleansed, The ring-hall bright-beaming. Have joy while thou mayest In many a meed, and unto thy kinsmen Leave folk and dominion, when forth thou must fare To look on the Maker's own making. I know now 1180 My Hrothulf the gladsome, that he this young man Will hold in all honour if thou now before him, O friend of the Scyldings, shall fare from the world; I ween that good-will yet this man will be yielding To our offspring that after us be, if he mind him Of all that which we two, for good-will and for wors.h.i.+p, Unto him erst a child yet have framed of kindness.

Then along by the bench did she turn, where her boys were, Hrethric and Hrothmund, and the bairns of high warriors, The young ones together; and there sat the good one, 1190 Beowulf the Geat, betwixt the two brethren.

XIX. MORE GIFTS ARE GIVEN TO BEOWULF.

THE BRISING COLLAR TOLD OF.

Borne to him then the cup was, and therewith friendly bidding In words was put forth; and gold about wounden All blithely they bade him bear; arm-gearings twain, Rail and rings, the most greatest of fas.h.i.+on of neck-rings Of them that on earth I have ever heard tell of: Not one under heaven wrought better was heard of Midst the h.o.a.rd-gems of heroes, since bore away Hama To the bright burg and brave the neck-gear of the Brisings, The gem and the gem-chest: from the foeman's guile fled he 1200 Of Eormenric then, and chose rede everlasting.

That ring Hygelac had, e'en he of the Geat-folk, The grandson of Swerting, the last time of all times When he under the war-sign his treasure defended, The slaughter-prey warded. Him weird bore away Sithence he for pride-sake the war-woe abided, The feud with the Frisians; the fretwork he flitted, The gem-stones much worthy, all over the waves' cup.

The King the full mighty cring'd under the s.h.i.+eld; Into grasp of the Franks the King's life was gotten 1210 With the gear of the breast and the ring altogether; It was worser war-wolves then reft gear from the slain After the war-shearing; there the Geats' war-folk Held the house of the dead men. The Hall took the voices; Spake out then Wealhtheow; before the host said she: Brook thou this roundel, lief Beowulf, henceforth, Dear youth, with all hail, and this rail be thou using, These gems of folk-treasures, and thrive thou well ever; Thy might then make manifest! Be to these lads here Kind of lore, and for that will I look to thy guerdon. 1220 Thou hast won by thy faring, that far and near henceforth, Through wide time to come, men will give thee the wors.h.i.+p, As widely as ever the sea winds about The windy land-walls. Be the while thou art living An atheling wealthy, and well do I will thee Of good of the treasures; be thou to my son In deed ever friendly, and uphold thy joyance!

Lo! each of the earls here to the other is trusty, And mild of his mood and to man-lord full faithful, Kind friends all the thanes are, the folk ever yare. 1230 Ye well drunk of folk-grooms, now do ye my biddings.

To her settle then far'd she; was the feast of the choicest, The men drank the wine nothing wotting of weird, The grim shaping of old, e'en as forth it had gone To a many of earls; sithence came the even, And Hrothgar departed to his chamber on high, The rich to his rest; and aright the house warded Earls untold of number, as oft did they erewhile.

The bench-boards they bar'd them, and there they spread over With beds and with bolsters. Of the beer-skinkers one 1240 Who fain was and fey bow'd adown to his floor-rest.

At their heads then they rested their rounds of the battle, Their board-woods bright-s.h.i.+ning. There on the bench was, Over the atheling, easy to look on The battle-steep war-helm, the byrny be-ringed, The wood of the onset, all-glorious. Their wont was That oft and oft were they all yare for the war-tide, Both at home and in hosting, were it one were it either, And for every such tide as their liege lord unto The need were befallen: right good was that folk. 1250

XX. GRENDEL'S DAM BREAKS INTO HART AND BEARS OFF AESCHERE.

So sank they to slumber; but one paid full sorely For his rest of the even, as to them fell full often Sithence that the gold-hall Grendel had guarded, And won deed of unright, until that the end came And death after sinning: but clear was it shown now, Wide wotted of men, that e'en yet was a wreaker Living after the loathly, a long while of time After the battle-care, Grendel's own mother; The woman, the monster-wife, minded her woe, She who needs must in horror of waters be wonning, 1260 The streams all a-cold, sithence Cain was become For an edge-bane forsooth to his very own brother, The own son of his father. Forth bann'd then he fared, All marked by murder, from man's joy to flee, And dwelt in the waste-land. Thence woke there a many Ghosts shapen of old time, of whom one was Grendel, The fierce wolf, the hateful, who found him at Hart A man there a-watching, abiding the war-tide; Where to him the fell ogre to hand-grips befell; Howe'er he him minded of the strength of his might, 1270 The great gift set fast in him given of G.o.d, And trowed in grace by the All-wielder given, His fostering, his staying; so the fiend he o'ercame And bow'd down the h.e.l.l's ghost, that all humble he wended Fordone of all mirth death's house to go look on, That fiend of all mankind. But yet was his mother, The greedy, the glum-moody, fain to be going A sorrowful journey her son's death to wreak.

So came she to Hart whereas now the Ring-Danes Were sleeping adown the hall; soon there befell 1280 Change of days to the earl-folk, when in she came thrusting, Grendel's mother: and soothly was minish'd the terror By even so much as the craft-work of maidens, The war-terror of wife, is beside the man weapon'd, When the sword all hard bounden, by hammers to-beaten, The sword all sweat-stain'd, through the swine o'er the war-helm With edges full doughty down rightly sheareth.

But therewith in the hall was tugg'd out the hard edge, The sword o'er the settles, and wide s.h.i.+elds a many Heaved fast in the hand: no one the helm heeded, 1290 Nor the byrny wide-wrought, when the wild fear fell on them.

In haste was she then, and out would she thenceforth For the saving her life, whenas she should be found there.

But one of the athelings she speedily handled And caught up full fast, and fenward so fared.

But he was unto Hrothgar the liefest of heroes Of the sort of the fellows; betwixt the two sea-floods A mighty s.h.i.+eld-warrior, whom she at rest brake up, A war-wight well famed. There Beowulf was not; Another house soothly had erewhile been dighted 1300 After gift of that treasure to that great one of Geats.

Uprose cry then in Hart, all 'mid gore had she taken The hand, the well-known, and now care wrought anew In the wicks was arisen. Naught well was the bargain That on both halves they needs must be buying that tide With the life-days of friends. Then the lord king, the wise, The h.o.a.ry of war-folk, was harmed of mood When his elder of thanes and he now unliving, The dearest of all, he knew to be dead.

To the bower full swiftly was Beowulf brought now, 1310 The man victory-dower'd; together with day-dawn Went he, one of the earls, that champion beworthy'd, Himself with his fellows, where the wise was abiding To wot if the All-wielder ever will to him After the tale of woe happy change work.

Then went down the floor he the war-worthy With the host of his hand, while high dinn'd the hall-wood, Till he there the wise one with words had well greeted, The lord of the Ingwines, and ask'd had the night been.

Since sore he was summon'd, a night of sweet eas.e.m.e.nt. 1320

XXI. HROTHGAR LAMENTS THE SLAYING OF AESCHERE, AND TELLS OF GRENDEL'S MOTHER AND HER DEN.

Spake out then Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings: Ask no more after bliss; for new-made now is sorrow For the folk of the Danes; for Aeschere is dead, He who was Yrmenlaf's elder of brethren, My wise man of runes, my bearer of redes, Mine own shoulder-fellow, when we in the war-tide Warded our heads and the host on the host fell, And the boars were a-cras.h.i.+ng; e'en such should an earl be, An atheling exceeding good, e'en as was Aeschere.

Now in Hart hath befallen for a hand-bane unto him 1330 A slaughter-ghost wandering; naught wot I whither The fell one, the carrion-proud, far'd hath her back-fare, By her fill made all famous. That feud hath she wreaked Wherein yesternight gone by Grendel thou quelledst Through thy hardihood fierce with grips hard enow.

For that he over-long the lief people of me Made to wane and undid. In the war then he cringed, Being forfeit of life. But now came another, An ill-scather mighty, her son to awreak; And further hath she now the feud set on foot, 1340 As may well be deemed of many a thane, Who after the wealth-giver weepeth in mind, A hard bale of heart. Now the hand lieth low Which well-nigh for every joy once did avail you.

The dwellers in land here, my people indeed, The wise-of-rede hall-folk, have I heard say e'en this: That they have set eyes on two such-like erewhile, Two mickle mark-striders the moorland a-holding, Ghosts come from elsewhere, but of them one there was, As full certainly might they then know it to be, 1350 In the likeness of woman; and the other shap'd loathly All after man's image trod the tracks of the exile, Save that more was he shapen than any man other; And in days gone away now they named him Grendel, The dwellers in fold; they wot not if a father Unto him was born ever in the days of erewhile Of dark ghosts. They dwell in a dim hidden land, The wolf-bents they bide in, on the nesses the windy, The perilous fen-paths where the stream of the fell-side Midst the mists of the nesses wends netherward ever, 1360 The flood under earth. Naught far away hence, But a mile-mark forsooth, there standeth the mere, And over it ever hang groves all berimed, The wood fast by the roots over-helmeth the water.

But each night may one a dread wonder there see, A fire in the flood. But none liveth so wise Of the bairns of mankind, that the bottom may know.

Although the heath-stepper beswinked by hounds, The hart strong of horns, that holt-wood should seek to Driven fleeing from far, he shall sooner leave life, 1370 Leave life-breath on the bank, or ever will he Therein hide his head. No hallow'd stead is it: Thence the blending of water-waves ever upriseth Wan up to the welkin, whenso the wind stirreth Weather-storms loathly, until the lift darkens And weepeth the heavens. Now along the rede wendeth Of thee again only. Of that earth yet thou know'st not, The fearful of steads, wherein thou mayst find That much-sinning wight; seek then if thou dare, And thee for that feud will I guerdon with fee, 1380 The treasures of old time, as erst did I do, With the gold all-bewounden, if away thence thou get thee.

XXII. THEY FOLLOW GRENDEL'S DAM TO HER LAIR.

Spake out then Beowulf the Ecgtheow's bairn: O wise of men, mourn not; for to each man 'tis better That his friend he awreak than weep overmuch.

Lo! each of us soothly abideth the ending Of the life of the world. Then let him work who work may High deeds ere the death: to the doughty of war-lads When he is unliving shall it best be hereafter.

Rise up, warder of kingdom! and swiftly now wend we 1390 The Grendel Kinswoman's late goings to look on; And this I behote thee, that to holm shall she flee not, Nor into earth's fathom, nor into the fell-holt, Nor the grounds of the ocean, go whereas she will go.

For this one of days patience dree thou a while then Of each one of thy woes, as I ween it of thee.

Then leapt up the old man, and lightly gave G.o.d thank, That mighty of Lords, for the word which the man spake.

And for Hrothgar straightway then was bitted a horse, A wave-maned steed: and the wise of the princes 1400 Went stately his ways; and stepp'd out the man-troop, The linden-board bearers. Now lightly the tracks were All through the woodland ways wide to be seen there, Her goings o'er ground; she had gotten her forthright Over the mirk-moor: bore she of kindred thanes The best that there was, all bare of his soul, Of them that with Hrothgar heeded the home.

Overwent then that bairn of the athelings Steep bents of the stones, and stridings full narrow, Strait paths nothing pa.s.s'd over, ways all uncouth, 1410 Sheer nesses to wit, many houses of nicors.

He one of the few was going before Of the wise of the men the meadow to look on, Until suddenly there the trees of the mountains Over the h.o.a.r-stone found he a-leaning, A wood without gladness: the water stood under Dreary and troubled. Unto all the Danes was it, To the friends of the Scyldings, most grievous in mood To many of thanes such a thing to be tholing, Sore evil to each one of earls, for of Aeschere 1420 The head did they find e'en there on the holm-cliff; The flood with gore welled (the folk looking on it), With hot blood. But whiles then the horn fell to singing A song of war eager. There sat down the band; They saw down the water a many of worm-kind, Sea-drakes seldom seen a-kenning the sound; Likewise on the ness-bents nicors a-lying, Who oft on the undern-tide wont are to hold them A course full of sorrow all over the sail-road.

Now the worms and the wild-deer away did they speed 1430 Bitter and wrath-swollen all as they heard it, The war-horn a-wailing: but one the Geats' warden With his bow of the shafts from his life-days there sunder'd, From his strife of the waves; so that stood in his life-parts The hard arrow of war; and he in the holm was The slower in swimming as death away swept him.

So swiftly in sea-waves with boar-spears forsooth Sharp-hook'd and hard-press'd was he thereupon, Set on with fierce battle, and on to the ness tugg'd, The wondrous wave-bearer; and men were beholding 1440 The grisly guest, Beowulf therewith he gear'd him With weed of the earls: nowise of life reck'd he: Needs must his war-byrny, braided by hands, Wide, many-colour'd by cunning, the sound seek, E'en that which his bone-coffer knew how to ward, So that the war-grip his heart ne'er a while, The foe-s.n.a.t.c.h of the wrathful his life ne'er should scathe; Therewith the white war-helm warded his head, E'en that which should mingle with ground of the mere, And seek the sound-welter, with treasure beworthy'd, 1450 All girt with the lordly chains, as in days gone by The weapon-smith wrought it most wondrously done, Beset with the swine-shapes, so that sithence The brand or the battle-blades never might bite it.

Nor forsooth was that littlest of all of his mainstays, Which to him in his need lent the spokesman of Hrothgar, E'en the battle-sword hafted that had to name Hrunting, That in fore days was one of the treasures of old, The edges of iron with the poison twigs o'er-stain'd, With battle-sweat harden'd; in the brunt never fail'd he 1460 Any one of the warriors whose hand wound about him, Who in grisly wayfarings durst ever to wend him To the folk-stead of foemen. Not the first of times was it That battle-work doughty it had to be doing.

Forsooth naught remember'd that son there of Ecglaf, The crafty in mighty deeds, what ere he quoth All drunken with wine, when the weapon he lent To a doughtier sword-wolf: himself naught he durst it Under war of the waves there his life to adventure And warrior-s.h.i.+p work. So forwent he the glory, 1470 The fair fame of valour. Naught far'd so the other Syth he to the war-tide had gear'd him to wend.

XXIII. BEOWULF REACHETH THE MERE-BOTTOM IN A DAY'S WHILE, AND CONTENDS WITH GRENDEL'S DAM.