Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary, together with Sellic Spell Read online

2025 company the thirteenth man who had wrought the beginning

  of that warfare, a captive with gloomy heart he now must in

  shame show the way thence over the land. Against his will he

  went to where he knew a solitary hall of earth, a vault under

  ground, nigh to the surges of the deep and the warring waves.

  2030 All filled within was it with cunning work and golden wire.

  The monstrous guardian eager and ready in battle ancient

  beneath the earth kept those golden treasures – no easy bar-

  gain that for any among men to win. Now upon the headland

  sat the war-proven king from whom the Geats had love and

  2035 gifts of gold while he bade farewell unto the companions of

  his hearth. Heavy was his mood, restless hastening toward

  death: the fate very nigh indeed that was to assail that aged

  one, to attack the guarded soul within and sunder life from

  body – not for long thereafter was the spirit of the prince in

  2040 flesh entrammelled.

  Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: ‘In youth from

  many an onslaught of war I came back safe, from many a day

  of battle. I do recall it all. Seven winters old was I, when the

  king of wealth, gracious prince of peoples, received me of my

  2045 father. King Hrethel it was, who guarded me and kept me

  and gave me rich gift and fair feast, remembering our kinship.

  No whit was I while he lived less beloved by him within his

  house than any of his sons, even Herebeald, and Hæthcyn,

  and Hygelac my lord. For the eldest, as never should it have

  2050 been, by a kinsman’s deed the bed of cruel death was made,

  when Hæthcyn with arrow from his horn-tipped bow smote

  grievously his lord – he missed his mark and shot to death his

  kinsman, brother slew brother with a bloody shaft. That was

  an assault inexpiable, a wrong most evilly wrought, heart-

  2055 wearying to the soul; and yet the prince must depart from

  life all unavenged.

  ‘In like wise is it grievous for an old man to endure that his

  son yet young should swing upon the gallows, that he should

  utter a dirge, a lamentable song, while his child hangs a sport

  2060 unto the raven, and he old and weighed with years cannot

  devise him any aid. Ever is he reminded, each morning, of his

  son’s passing; little he cares to await within his courts another

  heir, now that this one hath tasted evil deeds through the violence

  of death. In care and sorrow he sees in his son’s dwelling

  2065 the hall of feasting, the resting places swept by the wind robbed

  of laughter – the riders sleep, mighty men gone down into the

  dark; there is no sound of harp, no mirth in those courts, such

  as once there were. Then he goes back unto his couch, alone

  for the one beloved he sings a lay of sorrow: all too wide and

  2070 void did seem to him those fields and dwelling places.

  ‘Even so did the lord of the windloving folk bear the surging

  sorrow of his heart for Herebeald – in no wise could he

  exact atonement for the evil deed from the slayer of life; none

  the more might he pursue with deeds of hate that warrior,

  2075 though little was his love. Then beneath that sorrow that had

  fallen thus too grievously upon him he forsook the joys of

  men, God’s light he sought: to his heirs, as rich man doth, he

  left his lands and populous towns, departing from this life.

  Soon was deed of hate and strife betwixt Swede and Geat and

  2080 feud on either hand across the water wide, bitter enmity in

  war, since Hrethel was dead, or else the sons of Ongentheow

  were bold in war, eager to advance, and desired not to keep

  the peace across the sea, but about Hreosnabeorg they oft-

  times wrought cruel slaughter in their hate.

  2085 ‘That did my kinsmen avenge, the deeds of enmity and

  wrong, as has been famed, albeit one of them paid for it with

  his life in grim barter: upon Hæthcyn, lord of the Geats, war

  fell disastrous. That day, as I have heard, at morn one kinsman

  with the edges of his sword brought home to the slayer

  2090 the other’s death, when Ongentheow met Eofer. The helm of

  battle sprang asunder and the aged Scylflng fell, death-pale

  in the fray. His hand remembered fell deeds enow, but it

  warded not the fatal stroke.

  ‘Hygelac I repaid in battle for those precious gifts that he

  2095 gave me, even as was permitted me, with my shining sword;

  he gave me lands and the joyous possession of my fathers’

  home. No need was there for him that he should seek among

  the Gifethas or the spearmen of the Danes or in the Swedish

  realm a warrior less doughty or hire such with pay; ever in

  2100 the marching hosts I would go before him alone in the front

  of war, and thus shall through life do battle, while this sword

  endures that has oft, early and late, served me well, since

  before the proven hosts my hands were Dæghrefn’s death,

  the champion of the Franks. In no wise might he bring that

  2105 fair-wrought ornament of the breast unto the Frisian king;

  nay, he fell in battle, the keeper of their banner, that prince in

  his pride. No sword-edge was his slayer, but a warrior’s gripe

  it was that quenched his beating heart crushing his frame

  of bones. Now shall this sword’s edge, hard and tempered

  2110 blade, do battle for the hoard.’

  Beowulf spake, for the last time proud words he uttered:

  ‘In youth many a deed of war I dared and still I will, aged

  protector of my people, seek strife and achieve renown, if

  that worker of evil and ruin comes forth from his house of

  2115 earth to find me.’ Then he addressed each of those men, bold

  warriors bearing their shields, his dear comrades for the latest

  time. ‘I would not bear sword or weapon against the serpent,

  if I knew how else I might grapple with the fierce destroyer

  to mine honour, as aforetime I did with Grendel. But here

  2120 do I look for fell fire’s heat, for blast and venom; wherefore I

  have upon me shield and corslet. Yet I will not from the bar-

  row’s keeper flee one foot’s pace, but to us twain hereafter

  shall it be done at the mound’s side, even as Fate, the Portion

  of each man, decrees to us. Fearless is my heart, wherefore I

  2125 forbear from vaunting threat against this wingéd foe.

  ‘Wait now on the hill, clad in your corslets, ye knights in

  harness, to see which of us two may better endure his wounds

  when the combat is over. This is not an errand for you, nor

  is it within the measure of any man save me alone that he

  2130 should put forth his might against the fierce destroyer, doing

  deeds of knighthood. I shall with my valour win the gold, or

  else shall war, cruel and deadly evil, take your prince.’

  Then the bold warrior stood up beside his shield, resolute

  beneath his helm. Wearing his grim mail he strode up to

  2135 the stony cliffs, trusting in the strength of one man alone -

  such is no craven’s feat! Then he who, endowed with manly

  virtue, had passed through many a host of battles and a clash

  of war, when the ranks of men
smote together, saw now at

  the mound’s side a stone-arch standing from whence a stream

  2140 came hurrying from the hill. The boiling water of that spring

  was hot with deadly fires; no man could long while endure

  unscorched that deep place nigh the hoard by reason of the

  dragon’s flame.

  Now in his wrath the prince of the windloving Geats let

  2145 words speed from his breast; grim of heart he shouted loud,

  so that his voice came ringing clear as a war-cry in beneath

  the hoary rock. Hatred was aroused. The Guardian of the

  Hoard perceived the voice of man. No longer was there space

  for the sueing of peace. Forth came first the blast of the fierce

  2150 destroyer from out the rock, hot vapour threatening battle.

  The earth rang. The Lord of the Geats beneath the mound

  flung round his warrior’s shield to meet the dreadful comer.

  Now was the heart of the coiling beast stirred to come out to

  fight. His sword had already the good king drawn for battle,

  2155 his ancient heirloom, quick of edge. Each with fell purpose in

  their hearts knew dread of [the] other; but undaunted stood

  the prince of vassals with his tall shield against him, while the

  serpent swiftly coiled itself together. In his armour he awaited

  it. Now it came blazing, gliding in loopéd curves, hastening

  2160 to its fate. The shield well protected the life and limbs of the

  king renowned a lesser while than his desire had asked, if he

  were permitted to possess victory in battle, as that time, on

  that first occasion of his life, for him fate decreed it not. The

  Lord of the Geats flung up his arm and with his ancient sword

  2165 smote the dread foe and the burnished edge turned on the

  bony body, but less keenly than its king had need, thus sore

  oppressed. Then was the guardian of the barrow after that

  warlike stroke in fell mood; murderous fire he flung – wide

  the flames of battle sprang. No triumphant cry of victory then

  2170 uttered he from whom the Geats had love and gifts of gold:

  his naked blade had failed him in the cruel deeds of battle, as

  never should it have done, that iron tried of old. No pleasant

  fare was his that day, (nor such) that the renownéd son of

  Ecgtheow should of his own will forsake that field on earth;

  2175 against his will must he inhabit a dwelling otherwhere, even

  as each man must, leaving the brief days of life.

  Not long was it now before those fierce slayers together

  came again. The Guardian of the Hoard took heart afresh,

  his breast heaved with gasping breath. Anguish he endured

  2180 oppressed with fire who aforetime was ruler of his folk. In

  no wise did his companions in arms, sons of princes, stand

  about him, a company proved in war; nay, they had retreated

  to a wood for the saving of their lives. In one alone of them

  the heart was moved with grief. Kinship may nothing set

  2185 aside in virtuous mind. Wiglaf was he called, Wihstan’s son,

  that fair warrior beneath his shield, a lord of Scylfing race

  of Ælfhere’s line. He saw his liege-lord beneath his vizored

  helm of war in torment of heat. He remembered then those

  favours which Beowulf had granted to him, the rich

  2190 dwelling-place of the Wægmundings, and all the landed rights

  which his father before had held. Then he could hold back

  no more: his hand wielded shield of yellow linden, ancient

  sword he drew – among men was it known as plunder of

  Eanmund Ohthere’s son. Him, a lordless exile, did Wihstan

  2195 in battle slay with edge of sword, and to Eanmund’s kin bore

  off his bright burnished helm, ringéd corslet, and old gigantic

  sword. All which did Onela return to him, the battle-harness

  of his nephew, and gallant gear of war; nor did he speak

  of the injury to his house, albeit Wihstan had laid low his

  2200 brother’s son. These fair things he kept for many a year, both

  sword and corslet, until his son might accomplish deeds of

  knightly valour, as his father had before him. Then he gave

  unto him in the land of the Geats of harness of battle an

  uncounted store, when he departed life full of years upon his

  2205 journey hence. This was the first venture in which that champion

  young was destined to make onslaught in battle beside

  his good lord. His heart turned not to water within him, nor

  did the weapon his sire bequeathed betray him in the fight.

  And that indeed the serpent found when they came together.

  2210 Wiglaf spake many a right fitting word, saying to his

  comrades (for heavy was his heart): ‘I do not forget the time

  when, where we took our mead in the hall of revelry, we

  vowed to our master, who gave us these precious things, that

  we would repay him for that raiment of warriors, the helmets

  2215 and stout swords, if ever on him such need as this should fall.

  For this of his own choice he chose us amid the host, for this

  adventure, considering us worthy of glorious deeds; for this

  he gave to me those costly gifts, for he accounted us spear-

  men valiant, bold bearers of the helm – yea, even though our

  2220 lord, shepherd of his people, purposed alone on our behalf

  to achieve this work of prowess, for he hath above all men

  wrought feats of renown and deeds of daring. Now is the day

  come when our liege-lord hath need of valour and of warriors

  good. Come! Let us go to him! Let us help our leader

  2225 in arms, while the heat endures, the glowing terror grim. God

  knoweth that for my part far sweeter is it for me that glowing

  fire should embrace my body beside the lord that gave me

  gold. Nor seems it fitting to me that we bear back our shields

  unto our home, unless we can first smite down the foe, and

  2230 defend the life of the king of the windloving people. Verily

  I know that his deserts of old were not such that he alone of

  proven Geatish men should suffer anguish, and fall in battle.

  With him my sword and helm, my corslet and my armour,

  shall be joined in league!’

  2235 Then strode he though the deadly reek, his head armed

  for war, to the succour of his lord, and these brief words he

  spake: ‘Beowulf beloved, do all things well unto the end, even

  as thou didst vow aforetime in the days of youth that thou

  wouldst not while living suffer thy honour to fall low. Now

  2240 must thou, brave in deeds, thy noble heart unwavering, with

  all thy might thy life defend. To the uttermost I will aid thee.’

  Upon these words the serpent came on in wrath a second

  time, alien creature fierce and evil, assailing with swirling

  fires, drawing nigh unto his foes, these hated men. His buckler

  2245 in the billowing flames was burned even to the boss, his

  corslet could afford no help to that young wielder of the

  spear; but beneath his kinsman’s shield stoutly fared that

  warrior young, when his own was crumbled in the glow-

  ing fires. Now once more the king of battles recalled his

  2250 renownéd deeds, with mighty strength he smote with his

  warlike sword, and fast in the head it stood
driven by fierce

  hate. Nægling burst asunder! Beowulf’s sword, old, grey-

  bladed, had failed him in the fight. It was not vouchsafed to

  him that blades of iron might be his aid in war: too strong

  2255 that hand, that as I have heard with its swing overtaxed each

  sword, when he to the battle bore weapons marvellously

  hard; no whit did it profit him.

  Then for the third time the destroyer of the folk, the fell

  fire-dragon, bethought him of deeds of enmity, and rushed

  2260 upon that valiant man, now that a clear field was given him,

  burning and fierce in battle. His neck with his sharp bony

  teeth he seized now all about, and Beowulf was reddened

  with his own life-blood; it welled forth in gushing streams.

  I have heard tell that in that hour of his king’s need the

  2265 good man unbowed showed forth his valour, his might and

  courage, as was the manner of his kin. He heeded not those

  jaws; nay, his hand was burned, as valiant he aided now his

  kinsman, and smote that alien creature fierce a little lower

  down – a knight in arms was he! - so that bright and golden-

  2270 hilted his sword plunged in, and the fire began thereafter to

  abate. Once more the king himself mastered his senses; drew

  forth a deadly dagger keen and whetted for the fray, that he

  wore against his mail; Lord of the windloving folk he ripped

  up the serpent in the midst. They had slain their foe – valour

  2275 had vanquished life; yea, together they had destroyed him,

  those two princes of one house – of such sort should a man

  be, a loyal liege at need! That for the king was the last of his

  hours of triumph by his own deed, last of his labours in the

  world.

  2280 Now the wound that the dragon of the cave had wrought

  on him began to burn and swell. Swiftly did he this perceive,

  that in his breast within the venom seethed with deadly

  malice. Then the prince went and sat him upon a seat beside

  the mound, full of deep thought. He gazed upon that work of

  2285 giants, marking how that everlasting vault of earth contained

  within it those stony arches on their pillars fast upheld.

  Then that knight surpassing good with his hands sprinkled

  him with water, that king renowned all dreadly bloody,

  his own liege-lord, weary of war; his helmet he unclasped.

  2290 Beowulf spake – despite his hurt, his grievous mortal wound,