Beowulf - Delphi Poets Series Read online

  815 was each to other. The outlaw dire

  took mortal hurt; a mighty wound

  showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked,

  and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now

  the glory was given, and Grendel thence

  820 death-sick his den in the dark moor sought,

  noisome abode:4 he knew too well

  that here was the last of life, an end

  of his days on earth. — To all the Danes

  by that bloody battle the boon had come.

  825 From ravage had rescued the roving stranger

  Hrothgar’s hall; the hardy and wise one

  had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him,

  his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes

  had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good,

  830 all their sorrow and ills assuaged,

  their bale of battle borne so long,

  and all the dole they erst endured,

  pain a-plenty.— ’Twas proof of this,

  when the hardy-in-fight a hand5 laid down,

  835 arm and shoulder, — all, indeed,

  of Grendel’s gripe,6— ‘neath the gabled roof.

  Footnotes

  1 Kenning for Beowulf.

  2 Litotes for “dangerous,” “destructive.”

  3 Also his mother, against whom Beowulf’s sword is wielded in vain; below, v. 1522.

  4 Schücking, Beowulf’s Rückkehr, , notes the resemblance of this flght to the struggles between a saint and the devil or devils, as, for example, in Juliana, vv. 288, 554 ff., and St. Dunstan’s affair with Satan.

  5 Hadding, in the forest by night sheltered by a rude tent of twigs, sees “a hand of extraordinary size” wandering about. His nurse, a giantess, holds the hand while Hadding hews it oft, and “corrupt matter” flows from it. Tearing and rending with their claws is the giants’ way. See Saxo, Bk. I (Holder, ), and Elton’s translation.

  6That is, all Grendel’s machinery of grasp, both clutch and reach. The translation “fist” will not do. The concluding nine lines of this section are compared by ten Brink with the last stanza of Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered.

  XIII

  Many at morning, as men have told me,

  warriors gathered the gift-hall round,

  folk-leaders faring from far and near,

  840 o’er wide-stretched ways, the wonder to view,

  trace of the traitor. Not troublous1 seemed

  the enemy’s end to any man

  who saw by the gait of the graceless foe

  how the weary-hearted, away from thence,

  845 baffled in battle and banned, his steps

  death-marked dragged to the devils’ mere.2

  Bloody the billows were boiling there,

  turbid the tide of tumbling waves

  horribly seething, with sword-blood hot,

  850 by that doomed one dyed, who in den of the moor

  laid forlorn his life adown,

  his heathen soul, — and hell received it.

  Home then rode the hoary clansmen

  from that merry journey, and many a youth,

  855 on horses white, the hardy warriors,

  back from the mere. Then Beowulf’s glory

  eager they echoed, and all averred

  that from sea to sea, or south or north,

  there was no other in earth’s domain,

  860 under vault of heaven, more valiant found,

  of warriors none more worthy to rule!

  (On their lord beloved they laid no slight,

  gracious Hrothgar: a good king he!)

  From time to time, the tried-in-battle

  865 their gray3 steeds set to gallop amain,

  and ran a race when the road seemed fair.

  From time to time, a thane of the king,4

  who had made many vaunts, and was mindful of verses,

  stored with sagas and songs of old,

  870 bound word to word in well-knit rime,

  welded his lay; this warrior soon

  of Beowulf’s quest right cleverly sang,

  and artfully added an excellent tale,

  in well-ranged words, of the warlike deeds

  875 he had heard in saga of Sigemund.5

  Strange the story: he said it all, — 6

  the Wælsing’s wanderings wide, his struggles,

  which never were told to tribes of men,

  the feuds and the frauds,7 save to Fitela only,

  880 when of these doings he deigned to speak,

  uncle to nephew; as ever the twain

  stood side by side in stress of war,

  and multitude of the monster kind

  they had felled with their swords. Of Sigemund grew,

  885 when he passed from life, no little praise;

  for the doughty-in-combat a dragon killed

  that herded the hoard:8 under hoary rock

  the atheling dared the deed alone,

  fearful quest, nor was Fitela there.

  890 Yet so it befell, his falchion pierced

  that wondrous worm; — on the wall it struck,

  best blade; the dragon died in its blood.

  Thus had the dread-one by daring achieved

  over the ring-hoard to rule at will,

  895 himself to pleasure; a sea-boat he loaded,

  and bore on its bosom the beaming gold,

  son of Wæls; the worm was consumed.

  He had of all heroes the highest renown

  among races of men, this refuge-of-warriors,

  900 for deeds of daring that decked his name

  since9 the hand and heart of Heremod

  grew slack in battle. He, swiftly banished

  to mingle with monsters10 at mercy of foes,

  to death was betrayed; for torrents of sorrow

  905 had lamed him too long;11 a load of care

  to earls and athelings all he proved.

  Oft indeed, in earlier days,

  for the warrior’s wayfaring12 wise men mourned,

  who had hoped of him help from harm and bale,

  910 and had thought their sovran’s son13 would thrive,

  follow his father, his folk protect,

  the hoard and the stronghold, heroes’ land,

  home of Scyldings. — But here, thanes said,

  the kinsman of Hygelac kinder seemed

  915 to all: the other14 was urged to crime!

  And afresh to the race,15 the fallow roads

  by swift steeds measured! The morning sun

  was climbing higher. Clansmen hastened

  to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,

  920 the wonder to witness. Warden of treasure,

  crowned with glory, the king himself,

  with stately band from the bride-bower strode;

  and with him the queen and her crowd of maidens

  measured the path to the mead-house fair.

  Footnotes

  1 Note the favorite litotes.

  2 Sea or Lake of the Nicors. Indefinite talk of the moorland or fen as home of the monsters here yields to the idea of home in the waters. The water-hell was familiar to Germanic traditions; in Scandinavia it takes very definite form; and even in the Heliand, translation of the gospels, we read of the punishments of the waters, wateres witi.

  3 “Fallow.” Just now the horses were “white”; and in v. 916 it will he the roads that are “fallow.” Color schemes are not very exact in our old poetry, and color was not used to any extent in visualizing a scene. The popular ballads show the same lack of clearness.

  4 Warriors often improvised lays of their own battles, and so laid the foundation of epic; thus Gaston Paris, in his Histoire Poétique de Charlemagne, for French sources. This thane of Hrothgar may have been a professional minstrel in the eyes of the epic poet who made the Beowulf; but there is a possibility of his amateur standing. In any case, he improvises a lay on Beowulf’s adventure, as he rides along, and uses his store of traditional ph
rase and comment in the process. If the epithet applied to him by the epic, guma gilphlæden, means “a man laden with vaunts” and not simply “a warrior who had made many vaunts and performed them, that is, covered with glory,” — and the former rendering is preferable, — then yet another accomplishment of the Germanic warrior is indicated. He could probably sing his beot, or vaunt, in good verse. Specimens of such a vaunt, sung, however, by a North American Indian at the war-dance, and improvised to the rhythm of the bystanders’ choral singing, can be studied with some application to the Germanic problem, — for the cruder forms of improvisation, to be sure, and not for a finished chant of adventure like this in question, which is followed by traditional verse dealing with the Germanic heroic legend. — It is told of William of Orange, a hero of medieval song, born about 754, that when he was riding as a monk through the forest, he caused a song in praise of his own deeds to be sung by a retainer who rode in his train. — The Canterbury pilgrims were keeping old custom when they told tales as they rode; but improvisation in verse was no longer expected.

  5 In the Nibelungen Lay this adventure is told of Siegfried, son of Sigmund, who is son of Wæls. In the Volsunga Saga (Wælsings) Sinfiotli (=Fitela) is son to Sigmuad by his sister Signy. See the introduction to Deor’s Song, below. Beowulf is thus ranged at once with heroes of Germanic legend.

  6 Literally, “he told the whole story, . . . much of it unknown. . .”

  7 That is, betrayals, treacheries.

  8 “Guarded the treasure.” — The “brief abstract” style of this report of the singer’s lay befits a tale which was known to hearers of lay and epic alike. Sigmund is the type with which Beowulf is compared, the good and great hero; while Heremod, admirably introduced, serves as antitype. The latter is probably the Lotherus of Saxo’s history, son of Dan, of the royal Danish house, the brave king who turns tyrant and is at last slain by a desperate and outraged folk. For further reference to him, see below, vv. 1709 ff. and 2177 ff.

  9 Müllenhoff’s rendering, and the best. Heremod, one is told, might have rivalled and surpassed Sigmund, but the former fell from grace, turned tyrant, and in fact was precisely what the aspiring hero should not be, — quite the opposite, say, of this glorious Beowulf.

  10 Probably “devils in hell,” who would also be the foes. Others take the banishment literally, — as if to actual giants, who soon compassed the king’s death.

  11 Bugge emends:

  With torrents of sorrow

  he had long lamed his landfolk; a load of care . . .

  and understands the “earlier days” in v. 907 as the days before Heremod’s real tyranny began, though his subjects were already chafing at his folly and neglect.

  12 “Way of life” (Wyatt). Sievers refers it to the assumed literal banishment. Or does it mean some wild adventure undertaken when the king should have been caring for his folk at home?

  13 See vv. 20 ff., above: “So becomes it a youth . . .”

  14 Sc. Heremod.

  15 The singer has-sung his lays, and the epic resumes its story. The time-relations are not altogether good in this long passage which describes the rejoicings of “the day after”; but the present shift from the riders on the road to the folk at the hall is not very violent, and is of a piece with the general narrative style.

  XIV

  925 Hrothgar spake, — to the hall he went,

  stood by the steps, the steep roof saw,

  garnished with gold, and Grendel’s hand: —

  “For the sight I see to the Sovran Ruler

  be speedy thanks! A throng of sorrows

  930 I have borne from Grendel; but God still works

  wonder on wonder, the Warden-of-Glory.

  It was but now that I never more

  for woes that weighed on me waited help

  long as I lived, when, laved in blood,

  935 stood sword-gore-stained this stateliest house, —

  widespread woe for wise men all,

  who had no hope to hinder ever

  foes infernal and fiendish sprites

  from havoc in hall. This hero now,

  940 by the Wielder’s might, a work has done

  that not all of us erst could ever do

  by wile and wisdom. Lo, well can she say

  whoso of women this warrior bore

  among sons of men, if still she liveth,

  945 that the God of the ages was good to her

  in the birth of her bairn. Now, Beowulf, thee,

  of heroes best, I shall heartily love

  as mine own, my son; preserve thou ever

  this kinship new: thou shalt never lack

  950 wealth of the world that I wield as mine!

  Full oft for less have I largess showered,

  my precious hoard, on a punier man,

  less stout in struggle. Thyself hast now

  fulfilled such deeds, that thy fame shall endure

  955 through all the ages. As ever he did,

  well may the Wielder reward thee still!”

  Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: —

  “This work of war most willingly

  we have fought, this fight, and fearlessly dared

  960 force of the foe. Fain, too, were I

  hadst thou but seen himself, what time

  the fiend in his trappings tottered to fall!

  Swiftly, I thought, in strongest gripe

  on his bed of death to bind him down,

  965 that he in the hent of this hand of mine

  should breathe his last: but he broke away.1

  Him I might not — the Maker willed not —

  hinder from flight, and firm enough hold

  the life-destroyer: too sturdy was he,

  970 the ruthless, in running! For rescue, however,

  he left behind him his hand in pledge,

  arm and shoulder; nor aught of help

  could the curséd one thus procure at all.

  None the longer liveth he, loathsome fiend,

  975 sunk in his sins, but sorrow holds him

  tightly grasped in gripe of anguish,

  in baleful bonds, where bide he must,

  evil outlaw, such awful doom

  as the Mighty Maker shall mete him out.”

  980 More silent seemed the son of Ecglaf2

  in boastful speech of his battle-deeds,

  since athelings all, through the earl’s great prowess,

  beheld that hand, on the high roof gazing,3

  foeman’s fingers, — the forepart of each

  985 of the sturdy nails to steel was likest, —

  heathen’s “hand-spear,” hostile warrior’s

  claw uncanny. ’Twas clear, they said,

  that him no blade of the brave could touch,

  how keen soever, or cut away

  990 that battle-hand bloody from baneful foe.

  Footnotes

  1 Literally, “I intended . . . if his body had not slipped away.”

  2 Unferth, Beowulf’s sometime opponent in the flyting.

  3 That is, as Klaeber points out, Modern Philology, III, 256, the nobles look from outside “in the direction of the high roof, and behold the hand.” Beowulf, he says, “had placed Grendel’s hand . . . (on some projection perhaps) above the door (outside) as high as he could reach.” But ten Brink (Beowulf, ) takes for granted that the hand was placed inside the hall. See vv. 836, 926, above.

  XV

  There was hurry and hest in Heorot now

  for hands to bedeck it, and dense was the throng

  of men and women the wine-hall to cleanse,

  the guest-room to garnish. Gold-gay shone the hangings

  995 that were wove on the wall, and wonders many

  to delight each mortal that looks upon them.

  Though braced within by iron bands,

  that building bright was broken sorely;1

  rent were its hinges; the roof alone

  1000 held safe and sound, when, seared with crime,


  the fiendish foe his flight essayed,

  of life despairing. — No light thing that,2

  the flight for safety, — essay it who will!

  Forced of fate, he shall find his way

  1005 to the refuge ready for race of man,

  for soul-possessors, and sons of earth;

  and there his body on bed of death

  shall rest after revel.

  Arrived was the hour

  when to hall proceeded Healfdene’s son:

  1010 the king himself would sit to banquet.

  Ne’er heard I of host in haughtier throng

  more graciously gathered round giver-of-rings!

  Bowed then to bench those bearers-of-glory,

  fain of the feasting. Featly received

  1015 many a mead-cup the mighty-in-spirit,

  kinsmen who sat in the sumptuous hall,

  Hrothgar and Hrothulf.3 Heorot now

  was filled with friends; the folk of Scyldings

  ne’er yet had tried the traitor’s deed.

  1020 To Beowulf gave the bairn of Healfdene

  a gold-wove banner, guerdon of triumph,

  broidered battle-flag, breastplate and helmet;

  and a splendid sword was seen of many

  borne to the brave one. Beowulf took

  1025 cup in hall:4 for such costly gifts

  he suffered no shame in that soldier throng.5

  For I heard of few heroes, in heartier mood,

  with four such gifts, so fashioned with gold,

  on the ale-bench honoring others thus!

  1030 O’er the roof of the helmet high, a ridge,

  wound with wires, kept ward o’er the head,

  lest the relict-of-files6 should fierce invade,

  sharp in the strife, when that shielded hero

  should go to grapple against his foes.

  1035 Then the earls’-defence7 on the floor8 bade lead

  coursers eight, with carven head-gear,

  adown the hall: one horse was decked

  with a saddle all shining and set in jewels;

  ’twas the battle-seat of the best of kings,

  1040 when to play of swords the son of Healfdene

  was fain to fare. Ne’er failed his valor

  in the crush of combat when corpses fell.

  To Beowulf over them both then gave

  the refuge-of-Ingwines right and power,

  1045 o’er war-steeds and weapons: wished him joy of them.

  Manfully thus the mighty prince,

  hoard-guard for heroes, that hard fight repaid

  with steeds and treasures contemned by none