Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series Page 13
11 The chronology of the epic, as scholars have worked it out, would make Beowulf well over ninety years of age when he fights the dragon. But the fifty years of his reign need not be taken as historical fact.
12 The text is here hopelessly illegible, and only the general drift of the meaning can be rescued. For one thing, we have the old myth of a dragon who guards hidden treasure. But with this runs the story of some noble, last of his race, who hides all his wealth within this barrow and there chants his farewell to life’s glories. After his death the dragon takes possession of the hoard and watches over it. A condemned or banished man, desperate, hides in the barrow, discovers the treasure, and while the dragon sleeps, makes off with a golden beaker or the like, and carries it for propitiation to his master. The dragon discovers the loss and exacts fearful penalty from the people round about. — The huge barrows were prominent objects and frequent; in the oldest English charters we have directions for bounding estates “from the heathen barrow.” They are still familiar in many an English landscape, like Mr. Hardy’s “Egdon Heath.” Barrows have been opened which had a secret entrance somewhat as described here. Moreover, the robbing of graves which contained treasure or property proportional to the standing of the buried man, must have been a strong temptation. That superstition surrounded this crime with every sort of danger is evident enough. See below, vv. 3051–3073. Lifting buried gold is still an uncanny business, and folk-lore recounts its perils. Such gold brings the worst of luck; and it is noteworthy that the epic takes this view, v. 3163, and has all the dragon’s treasure heaped in Beowulf’s own tomb.
XXXII
That way he went with no will of his own,
in danger of life, to the dragon’s hoard,
but for pressure of peril, some prince’s thane.
He fled in fear the fatal scourge,
2225 seeking shelter, a sinful man,
and entered in. At the awful sight
tottered that guest, and terror seized him;
yet the wretched fugitive rallied anon
from fright and fear ere he fled away,
2230 and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.
Of such besides there was store enough,
heirlooms old, the earth below,
which some earl forgotten, in ancient years,
left the last of his lofty race,
2235 heedfully there had hidden away,
dearest treasure. For death of yore
had hurried all hence; and he alone
left to live, the last of the clan,
weeping his friends, yet wished to bide
2240 warding the treasure, his one delight,
though brief his respite. The barrow, new-ready,
to strand and sea-waves stood anear,1
hard by the headland, hidden and closed;
there laid within it his lordly heirlooms
2245 and heapéd hoard of heavy gold
that warden of rings. Few words he spake: — 2
“Now hold thou, earth, since heroes may not,
what earls have owned! Lo, erst from thee
brave men brought it! But battle-death seized
2250 and cruel killing my clansmen all,
robbed them of life and a liegeman’s joys.
None have I left to lift the sword,
or to cleanse the carven cup of price,
beaker bright. My brave are gone.
2255 And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold,
shall part from its plating. Polishers sleep
who could brighten and burnish the battle-mask;
and those weeds of war that were wont to brave
over bicker of shields the bite of steel
2260 rust with their bearer. The ringéd mail
fares not far with famous chieftain,
at side of hero! No harp’s delight,
no glee-wood’s gladness! No good hawk3 now
flies through the hall! Nor horses fleet
2265 stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death
the flower of my race have reft away.”
Mournful of mood, thus he moaned his woe,
alone, for them all, and unblithe wept
by day and by night, till death’s fell wave
2270 o’erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss
that old ill-doer open found,
who, blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth,
naked foe-dragon flying by night
folded in fire: the folk of earth
2275 dread him sore. ’Tis his doom to seek
hoard in the graves, and heathen gold
to watch, many- wintered: nor wins he thereby!
Powerful this plague-of-the-people thus
held the house of the hoard in earth
2280 three hundred winters; till One aroused
wrath in his breast, to the ruler bearing
that costly cup, and the king implored
for bond of peace. So the barrow was plundered,
borne off was booty. His boon was granted
2285 that wretched man; and his ruler saw
first time what was fashioned in far-off days.
When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled.
O’er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found
footprint of foe who so far had gone
2290 in his hidden craft by the creature’s head. —
So may the undoomed easily flee
evils and exile, if only he gain
the grace of The Wielder! — That warden of gold
o’er the ground went seeking, greedy to find
2295 the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.
Savage and burning, the barrow he circled
all without; nor was any there,
none in the waste. . . . Yet war he desired,
was eager for battle. The barrow he entered,
2300 sought the cup, and discovered soon
that some one of mortals had searched his treasure,
his lordly gold. The guardian waited
ill-enduring till evening came;
boiling with wrath was the barrow’s keeper,
2305 and fain with flame the foe to pay
for the dear cup’s loss. — Now day was fled
as the worm had wished. By its wall no more
was it glad to bide, but burning flew
folded in flame: a fearful beginning
2310 for sons of the soil; and soon it came,
in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.
Footnotes
1 Jacob Grimm, alive to the poetry of these old traditions, tells of the grave-chamher of one Swedish king which was close to the sea.
2 Müllenhoff remarked on the resemblance of this elegiac passage to the poems of the Exeter Ms., — The Ruin, The Wanderer, The Seafarer. But in point of fact it is the favorite “deep note” of English poetry at large, which always takes strength of word and emotion from the thought of death.
3 When the father sees his “Pearl,” in the poem of that name, he is afraid and bides as still “as hawk in hall.”
XXXIII
Then the baleful fiend its fire belched out,
and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high
all landsfolk frighting. No living thing
2315 would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.
Wide was the dragon’s warring seen,
its fiendish fury far and near,
as the grim destroyer those Geatish people
hated and hounded. To hidden lair,
2320 to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.
Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,
with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,
its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!
To Beowulf then the bale was told
2325 quickly and truly: the king’s own home,
of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,
that gift-throne of Geats. To th
e good old man
sad in heart, ’twas heaviest sorrow.
The sage assumed that his sovran God
2330 he had angered, breaking ancient law,
and embittered the Lord. His breast within
with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.
The folk’s own fastness that fiery dragon
with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all
2335 washed by waves; but the warlike king,
prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.
Warriors’-bulwark, he bade them work
all of iron — the earl’s commander —
a war-shield wondrous: well he knew
2340 that forest-wood against fire were worthless,
linden could aid not. — Atheling brave,
he was fated to finish this fleeting life,1
his days on earth, and the dragon with him,
though long it had watched o’er the wealth of the hoard! —
2345 Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,
to follow the flyer-afar with a host,
a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,
nor deemed he dreadful the dragon’s warring,
its vigor and valor: ventures desperate
2350 he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,
contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,
Hrothgar’s hall he had wholly purged,
and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,
loathsome breed! Not least was that
2355 of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,
when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,
lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,
son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts2 died,
by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fled
2360 through strength of himself and his swimming power,
though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty
coats of mail, when he came to the sea!3
Nor yet might Hetwaras4 haughtily boast
their craft of contest, who carried against him
2365 shields to the fight: but few escaped
from strife with the hero to seek their homes!
Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow’s son
lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,
where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,
2370 rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught
the strength of her son to save their kingdom
from hostile hordes, after Hygelac’s death.
No sooner for this could the stricken ones
in any wise move that atheling’s mind
2375 over young Heardred’s head as lord
and ruler of all the realm to be:
yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,
aided in honor, till, older grown,
he wielded the Weder-Geats. — Wandering exiles
2380 sought him o’er seas, the sons of Ohtere,
who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings’-helmet,
the bravest and best that broke the rings,
in Swedish land, of the sea-kings’ line,
haughty hero.5 Hence Heardred’s end.
2385 For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,
the blade’s fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;
but the son of Ongentheow sought again
house and home when Heardred fell,
leaving Beowulf lord of Geats
2390 and gift-seat’s master. — A good king he!
Footnotes
1 Literally “loan-days,” days loaned to man. Professor Hart refers to the striking passage in Everyman, vv. 164 ff.
2 This fine figure of the sword drinking the blood from the wounds it has made should not be weakened. It is like that tremendous metaphor in the Exodus, when the engulfing waves which clash over the drowned Egyptians and toss their crests to heaven are thus compressed: —
mightest of sea-deaths
lashed the sky, —
that is, the sea which brought about death.
3 It is like the additional touch which legend always gives to history, when Beowulf has this douceur of the thirty suits of armor, corresponding to his hand-gripe of thirty-man power.
4 Chattuarii, a tribe that dwelt along the Rhine, and took part in repelling the raid of (Hygelac) Chocilaicus.
5 Onela, son of Ongentheow, who pursues his two nephews Eanmund and Eadgils to Heardred’s court, where they have taken refuge after their unsuccessful rehellion. In the fighting Heardred is killed.
XXXIV
The fall of his lord he was fain to requite
in after days; and to Eadgils he proved
friend to the friendless, and forces sent
over the sea to the son of Ohtere,
2395 weapons and warriors: well repaid he
those care-paths cold when the king he slew.1
Thus safe through struggles the son of Ecgtheow
had passed a plenty, through perils dire,
with daring deeds, till this day was come
2400 that doomed him now with the dragon to strive.
With comrades eleven the lord of Geats
swollen in rage went seeking the dragon.
He had heard whence all the harm arose
and the killing of clansmen; that cup of price
2405 on the lap of the lord had been laid by the finder.
In the throng was this one thirteenth man,
starter of all the strife and ill,
care-laden captive; cringing thence
forced and reluctant, he led them on
2410 till he came in ken of that cavern-hall,
the barrow delved near billowy surges,
flood of ocean. Within ’twas full
of wire-gold and jewels; a jealous warden,
warrior trusty, the treasures held,
2415 lurked in his lair. Not light the task
of entrance for any of earth-born men!
Sat on the headland the hero king,
spake words of hail2 to his hearth-companions,
gold-friend of Geats. All gloomy his soul,
2420 wavering,3 death-bound. Wyrd full nigh
stood ready to greet the gray-haired man,
to seize his soul-hoard, sunder apart
life and body. Not long would be
the warrior’s spirit enwound with flesh.
2425 Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow: —
“Through store of struggles I strove in youth,
mighty feuds; I mind them all.
I was seven years old when the sovran of rings,
friend-of-his-folk, from my father took me,
2430 had me, and held me, Hrethel the king,
with food and fee, faithful in kinship.
Ne’er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,4
bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,
Herebeald and Hæthcyn and Hygelac mine.
2435 For the eldest of these, by unmeet chance,
by kinsman’s deed, was the death-bed strewn,
when Hæthcyn killed him with horny bow,
his own dear liege laid low with an arrow,
missed the mark and his mate shot down,
2440 one brother the other, with bloody shaft.
A feeless fight5 and a fearful sin,
horror to Hrethel; yet, hard as it was,
unavenged must the atheling die!
Too awful it is for an agéd man
2445 to bide and bear, that his bairn so young
rides6 on the gallows. A rime he makes,
sorrow-song for his son there hanging
as rapture of ravens; no rescue now
can come from the old, disabled man!
2450 Still is he minded, as morning breaks,
of the heir gone elsewhere;7 another he hopes not
he will bide to see his burg within
as ward for his wealth, now the one has found
doom o
f death that the deed incurred.
2455 Forlorn he looks on the lodge of his son,
wine-hall waste and wind-swept chambers
reft of revel. The rider sleepeth,
the hero, far-hidden;8 no harp resounds,
in the courts no wassail, as once was heard.
Footnotes
1 That is, Beowulf supports Eadgils against Onela, who is slain by Eadgils in revenge for the “care-paths” of exile into which Onela forced him. Bugge, relying on the Norse story, translates “by care-paths cold”; that is, Eadgils revenged himself by marches fraught with care or sorrow for Onela. As the battle in the Ynglingasaga takes place on the ice, Bugge reads “cold” literally. But it is the technical adjective for exile; “winter-cold exile,” e.g. in Deor’s Song.
2 Hǣlo. — Surely not “farewell,” in spite of the lugubrious context, which is quite in line with the usual epic anticipation of ill success and death. It is his beat really, his vow, largely reminiscent of other struggles, but closing with an explicit promise of valorous deed.
3 Animula vagula. — The personification of Wyrd should be noticed; it occurs so in the Heliand itself.
4 Usual litotes: “he held me no less dear.”
5 That is, the king could claim no wergild, or man-price, from one son for the killing of the other. The casus is peculiarly Germanic in detail; in general scope it is like the great kin-tragedies of the world’s literature. A similar story is told in the Thithrekssaga of Herbort, Herdegen, and Sintram, but, as Müllenhoff points out, with a different ending. In the Scottish ballad of The Twa Brothers, one kills the other while wrestling (though with a knife); but the ballad touches the parent only by messages to account for the disappearance of John. It is important to understand that the picture of the old king’s grief is hypothetical. There is no wergild, says the poet, and revenge is out of the question. For let one but fancy the feelings of a father who has caused his son to be hanged! The picture of such a state of things then follows. Then (v. 2462) one returns to Hrethel with the remark that his case was really as sad as the hypothetical one. Gering thinks that the poet took his picture of the broken-hearted parent from the story of Ermanric, of whom the Volsungasaga relates that he caused his only son to be hanged on an accusation of misconduct with Swanhild, the young man’s stepmother. Ermanric’s story was known to English poetry. See above, v. 1201, and the stanza in Dear’s Song.