Old English text from: http://ebeowulf.uky.edu/ebeo4.0/CD/main.html

Beowulf

With the Seamus Heaney translation, slightly altered

— Chapters —
1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18	19	20	21	22
23	24	25	26	27	28	29	30	31	32	33
34	35	36	37	38	39	40	41	42	43

Note: the symbol “7,” like our “&,” stands for Anglo-Saxon ond (“and”).

{ 1 } .I.
129r	HWÆT: WE GAR-DENA IN GEARDAGUM.	So. The Spear-Danes in days gone by
	þeodcyninga þrym gefrunon.	And the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
	Hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon!	We have heard of those princes’ heroic campaigns.
	Oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum	There was Shield Sheafson, scourge of many tribes,
5	monegum mægþum meodosetla ofteah,	A wrecker of mead-benches, rampaging among foes.
	egsode eorl, syððan ærest wearð	This terror of the hall-troops had come far.
	feasceaft funden. He þæs frofre gebad,	A foundling to start with, he would flourish later on
	weox under wolcnum, weorðmyndum þah,	As his powers waxed and his worth was proved.
	oð þæt him æghwylc þara ymbsittendra	In the end each clan on the outlying coasts
10	ofer hronrade hyran scolde,	Beyond the whale-road had to yield to him
	gomban gyldan. Þæt wæs god cyning.	And begin to pay tribute. That was one good king.
	Đæm eafera wæs æfter cenned,	Afterwards a boy-child was born to Shield,
	geong in geardum, þone God sende	A cub in the yard, a comfort sent
	folce to frofre. Fyrenðearfe ongeat.	By God to that nation. He knew what they had suffered,
15	Þæt hie ær drugon aldorlease	The long times and troubles they’d come through
	lange hwile. Him þæs Liffrea,	Without a leader; so the Lord of Life,
	wuldres wealdend, woroldare forgeaf.	The glorious Almighty, made this man renowned.
	Beowulf wæs breme, blæd wide sprang,	Shield had fathered a famous son:
	Scyldes eafera Scedelandum in.	Beow’s name was known through the north
20	Swa sceal geong guma gode gewyrcean,	and a young prince must be prudent like that,
129v	fromum feohgiftum on fæder \| bearme,	Giving freely while his father lives
	þæt hine on ylde eft gewunigen	so that afterwards in age when fighting starts
	wilgesiþas, þonne wig cume,	steadfast companions will stand by him
	leode gelæsten. Lofdædum sceal	and hold the line. Behaviour that’s admired
25	in mægþa gehwære man geþeon.	is the path to power among people everywhere.
	Him ða Scyld gewat to gescæphwile	Shield was still thriving when his time came
	felahror feran on Frean wære.	and crossed over into the Lord’s Keeping.
	Hi hyne þa ætbæron to brimes faroðe,	His warrior band did what he bade them
	swæse gesiþas. Swa he selfa bæd	when he laid down the law among the Danes:
30	þenden wordum weold wine Scyldinga.	they shouldered him out to the sea’s flood,
	Leof landfruma lange ahte.	the chief they revered who had long ruled them.
	Þær æt hyðe stod hringedstefna,	A ring-whorled prow rode in the harbor,
	isig 7 utfus, æþelinges fær.	Ice –clad, outbound, a craft for a prince.
	Aledon þa leofne þeoden,	They stretched their beloved lord in his boat,
35	beaga bryttan on bearm scipes,	Laid out by the mast, amidships,
	mærne be mæste. Þær wæs madma fela	the great ring-giver. Far-fetched treasures
	of feorwegum frætwa gelæded.	were piled upon him, and precious gear.
	Ne hyrde ic cymlicor ceol gegyrwan	I never heard before of a ship so well furbished
	hildewæpnum 7 heaðowædum,	With battle tackle, bladed weapons
40	billum 7 byrnum. Him on bearme læg	And coats of mail. The massed treasure
	madma mænigo; þa him mid scoldon	was loaded on top of him: it would travel far
	on flodes æht feor gewitan.	on out into the ocean’s sway.
	Nalæs hi hine læssan lacum teodan,	They decked his body no less bountifully
	þeodgestreonum, þonne þa dydon,	With offerings than those first ones did
45	þe hine æt frumsceafte forð onsendon	Who cast him away when he was a child
130r	ænne ofer yðe umborwe\|sende.	And launched him alone out over the waves.
	Þa gyt hie him asetton segen gyldenne	And they set a gold standard up
	heah ofer heafod, leton holm beran	High above his head and let him drift
	geafon on garsecg. Him wæs geomor sefa,	To wind and tide, bewailing him
50	murnende mod. Men ne cunnon	And mourning their loss. No man can tell,
	secgan to soðe selerædenne,	No wise man in hall or weathered veteran
	hæleð under heofenum, hwa þæm hlæste onfeng.	Knows for certain who salvaged that load.
{ 2 } .II.
	ĐA wæs on burgum Beowulf Scyldinga	Then it fell to Beow to keep the forts.
	leof leodcyning longe þrage,	He was well regarded and ruled the Danes
55	folcum gefræge. Fæder ellor hwearf,	For a long time after his father took leave
	aldor of earde. Oþ þæt him eft onwoc	Of his life on earth. And then his heir,
	heah Healfdene, heold þenden lifde,	The great Halfdane, held sway
	gamol 7 guðreouw, glæde Scyldingas.	For as long as he lived, their elder and warlord.
	Đæm feower bearn forðgerimed	He was four times a father, this fighter prince:
60	in worold wocun: weoroda ræswa,	One by one they entered the world,
	Heorogar, 7 Hroðgar, 7 Halga til.	Heorogar, Hrothgar, the good Halga,
	Hyrde ic þæt ides wæs æþelan cwen,	And a daughter, I have heard, who was Onela’s queen,
	Heaðo-Scilfingas healsgebedda.	A balm in bed to the battle-scarred Swede.
	Þa wæs Hroðgare heresped gyfen,	The fortunes of war favored Hrothgar.
65	wiges weorðmynd, þæt him his winemagas	Friends and kinsmen flocked to his ranks,
	georne hyrdon, oðð þæt seo geogoð geweox	Young followers, a force that grew
	magodriht micel. Him on mod bearn	To be a mighty army. So his mind turned
	þæt healreced hatan wolde,	To hall-building: he handed down orders
130v	\| medoærn micel men gewyrcean,	For men to work on a great mead-hall
70	þone yldo bearn æfre gefrunon,	Meant to be a wonder of the world forever;
	7 þær on innan eall gedælan	It would be his throne-room and there he would dispense
	geongum 7 ealdum, swylc him God sealde,	His God-given goods to young and old —
	buton folcscare 7 feorum gumena.	But not the common land or people’s lives.
	Đa ic wide gefrægn weorc gebannan	Far and wide through the world, I have heard,
75	manigre mægþe geond þisne middangeard,	Orders for the work to adorn that wallstead
	folcstede frætwan. Him on fyrste gelomp,	Were sent to many peoples. And soon it stood there,
	ædre mid yldum, þæt hit wearð ealgearo,	Finished and ready, in full view,
	healærna mæst. Scop him Heort naman,	The hall of halls. Heorot was the name
	se þe his wordes geweald wide hæfde.	He settled on it, whose utterance was law.
80	He beot ne aleh, beagas dælde,	Nor did he renege, but doled out rings
	sinc æt symle. Sele hlifade,	And torques at the table. The hall towered,
	heah 7 horngeap. Heaðowylma bad,	Its gables wide and high and awaiting
	laðan liges. Ne wæs hit lenge þa gen	A barbarous burning. That doom abided,
	þæt se secghete aþum swerian,	But in time it would come: the killer instinct
85	æfter wælniðe wæcnan scolde.	Unleashed among in-laws, the blood-lust rampant.
	Đa se ellengæst earfoðlice	Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark,
	þrage geþolode, se þe in þystrum bad,	Nursed a hard grievance. It harrowed him
	þæt he dogora gehwam dream gehyrde	To hear the din of the loud banquet
	hludne in healle. Þær wæs hearpan sweg,	Every day in the hall, the harp being struck
90	swutol sang scopes. Sægde, se þe cuþe,	And the clear song of a skilled poet
	frumsceaft fira feorran reccan,	Telling with mastery of man’s beginnings,
132r	\| cwæð þæt se Ælmihtiga eorðan worhte,	How the Almighty had made the earth
	wlitebeorhtne wang, swa wæter bebugeð,	A gleaming plain girdled with waters;
	gesette sigehreþig sunnan 7 monan,	In His splendor He set the sun and the moon
95	leoman to leohte landbuendum.	To be earth’s lamplight, lanterns for men,
	7 gefrætwade foldan sceatas,	And filled the broad lap of the world
	leomum 7 leafum, lif eac gesceop	With branches and leaves; and quickened life
	cynna gehwylcum þara ðe cwice hwyrfaþ.	In every other thing that moved.
	Swa ða drihtguman dreamum lifdon	So times were pleasant for the people there
100	eadiglice, oð ðæt an ongan	Until finally one, a fiend out of hell,
	fyrene fremman, feond on helle.	Began to work his evil in the world.
	Wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,	Grendel was the name of this grim demon
	mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold,	Haunting the marches, marauding round the heath
	fen 7 fæsten. Fifelcynnes eard	And the desolate fens; he had dwelt for a time
105	wonsæli wer weardode hwile,	In misery among the banished monsters,
	siþðan him Scyppend forscrifen hæfde	Cain’s clan, whom the Creator had outlawed
	in Caines cynne. Þone cwealm gewræc,	And condemned as outcasts. For the killing of Abel
	ece Drihten, þæs þe he Abel slog.	The Eternal Lord had exacted a price:
	Ne gefeah he þære fæhðe, ac He hine feor forwræc,	Cain got no good from committing that murder
110	Metod for þy mane mancynne fram.	Because the Almighty made him anathema
	Þanon untydras ealle onwocon,	And out of the curse of this exile there sprang
	eotenas 7 ylfe 7 orcneas,	Ogres and elves and evil phantoms
132v	swylce gi\|gantas, þa wið Gode wunnon	And the giants too who strove with God
	lange þrage. He him ðæs lean forgeald!	Time and gain until He gave them their reward.
{ 3 } .III.
115	Gewat ða neosian, syþðan niht becom,	So, after nightfall, Grendel set out
	hean huses, hu hit Hring-Dene	For the lofty house, to see how the Ring-Danes
	æfter beorþege gebun hæfdon.	Were settling into it after their drink,
	Fand þa ðær inne æþelinga gedriht	And there he came upon them, a company of the best,
	swefan æfter symble. Sorge ne cuðon,	Asleep from their feasting, insensible to pain
120	wonsceaft wera. Wiht unhælo,	And human sorrow. Suddenly then
	grim 7 grædig, gearo sona wæs,	The God-cursed brute was creating havoc:
	reoc 7 reþe, 7 on ræste genam	Greedy and grim, he grabbed thirty men
	þritig þegna. Þanon eft gewat	From their resting places and rushed to his lair,
	huðe hremig to ham faran,	Flushed up and inflamed from the raid,
125	mid þære wælfylle wica neosan.	Blundering back with the butchered corpses.
	Đa wæs on uhtan mid ærdæge	Then as dawn brightened and the day broke
	Grendles guðcræft gumum undyrne.	Grendel’s powers of destruction were plain:
	Þa wæs æfter wiste wop up ahafen,	Their wassail was over, they wept to heaven
	micel morgensweg. Mære þeoden	And mourned under morning. Their mighty prince,
130	æþeling ærgod, unbliðe sæt,	The storied leader, sat stricken and helpless,
	þolode ðryðswyð, þegnsorge dreah,	Humiliated by the loss of his guard,
	syðþan hie þæs laðan last sceawedon,	Bewildered and stunned, staring aghast
	wergan gastes. Wæs þæt gewin to strang,	At the demon’s trail, in deep distress.
133r	lað 7 longsum. Næs hit lengra \| fyrst,	He was numb with grief, but got no respite
135	ac ymb ane niht eft gefremede	For one night later merciless Grendel
	morðbeala mare, 7 no mearn fore	Struck again with more gruesome murders.
	fæhðe 7 fyrene. Wæs to fæst on þam.	Malignant by nature, he never showed remorse.
	Þa wæs eaðfynde þe him elles hwær	It was easy then to meet with a man
	gerumlicor ræste sohte,	Shifting himself to a safer distance
140	bed æfter burum, ða him gebeacnod wæs,	To bed in the huts, for who could be blind
	gesægd soðlice sweotolan tacne	To the evidence of his eyes, the obviousness
	healðegnes hete. Heold hyne syðþan	Of that hall-watcher’s hate? Whoever escaped
	fyr 7 fæstor, se þæm feonde ætwand.	Kept a weather-eye open and moved away.
	Swa rixode 7 wið rihte wan,	So Grendel ruled in defiance of right,
145	ana wið eallum, oð þæt idel stod	One against all, until the greatest house
	husa selest. Wæs seo hwil micel,	In the world stood empty, a deserted wallstead.
	twelf wintra tid, torn geþolode,	For twelve winters, seasons of woe,
	wine, scyldenda, weana gehwelcne,	The lord of the Shildings suffered under
	sidra sorga. Forðam sona wearð	His load of sorrow; and so, before long,
150	ylda bearnum undyrne, cuð,	The news was known over the whole world.
	gyddum geomore, þætte Grendel wan	Sad epic songs were sung about the beset king,
	hwile wið Hroþgar, heteniðas wæg,	The vicious raids and ravages of Grendel,
	fyrene 7 fæhðe fela missera,	His long and unrelenting feud,
	singale sæce. Sibbe ne wolde	Nothing but war; how he would never
155	wið manna hwone mægenes Deniga	Parley or make peace with any Dane
	feorhbealo feorran, fea þingian.	Nor stop his death-dealing nor pay the death-price.
	Ne þær nænig witena wenan þorfte	No counselor could ever expect
	beorhtre bote to banan folmum.	Fair reparation from those rabid hands.
133v	\| Atol æglæca ehtende wæs,	All were endangered; young and old
160	deorc deaþscua, duguþe 7 geogoþe,	Were hunted down by that dark death-shadow
	seomade 7 syrede. sinnihte heold	Who lurked and swooped in the long nights
	mistige moras. Men ne cunnon	On the misty moors; nobody knows
	hwyder helrunan hwyrftum scriþað.	Where these raiders from hell roam on their errands.
	Swa fela fyrena feond mancynnes,	So Grendel waged his lonely war,
165	atol angengea, oft gefremede,	Inflicting constant cruelties on the people,
	heardra hynða. Heorot eardode,	Atrocious hurt. He took over Heorot,
	sincfage sel sweartum nihtum.	Haunted the glittering hall after dark,
	No he þone gifstol gretan moste	But the throne itself, the treasure-seat,
	maþðum for Metode, ne his myne wisse.	He was kept from approaching; he was the Lord’s outcast.
170	Þæt wæs wræc micel wine Scyldinga,	These were hard times, heart-breaking
	modes brecða. Monig oft gesæt	For the prince of the Shieldings; powerful counselors,
	rice to rune; ræd eahtedon,	The highest in the land, would lend advice,
	hwæt swiðferhðum selest wære	Plotting how best the bold defenders
	wið færgryrum to gefremmanne.	Might resist and beat off sudden attacks.
175	Hwilum hie geheton æt hrærgtrafum	Sometimes at pagan shrines they vowed
	wigweorþunga, wordum bædon	Offerings to idols, swore oaths
	þæt him gastbona geoce gefremede	That the killer of souls might come to their aid
	wið þeodþreaum. Swylc wæs þeaw hyra,	And save the people. That was their way,
	hæþenra hyht. Helle gemundon	Their heathenish hope; deep in their hearts
180	in modsefan, Metod hie ne cuþon,	They remembered hell. The Almighty Judge
	dæda Demend, ne wiston hie Drihten God.	Of good deeds and bad, the Lord God,
134r	\| Ne hie huru heofena Helm herian ne cuþon,	Head of the Heavens and High King of the World,
	wuldres Waldend. Wa bið þæm ðe sceal	Was unknown to them. Oh, cursed is he
	þurh sliðne nið sawle bescufan	Who in time of trouble has to thrust his soul
185	in fyres fæþm, frofre ne wenan,	In the fire’s embrace, forfeiting help;
	wihte gewendan. Wel bið þæm þe mot	He has nowhere to turn. But blessed is he
	æfter deaðdæge Drihten secean	Who after death can approach the Lord
	7 to fæder fæþmum freoðo wilnian.	And find friendship in the Father’s embrace.
{ 4 } .IV.
	Swa ða mælceare maga Healfdenes	So that trouble time continued, woe
190	singala seað. Ne mihte snotor hæleð	That never stopped, steady affliction
	wean onwendan. Wæs þæt gewin to swyð,	For Halfdane’s son, too hard an ordeal.
	laþ 7 longsum, þe on ða leode becom,	There was panic after dark, people endured
	nydwracu niþgrim, nihtbealwa mæst.	Raids in the night, torn by the terror.
	Þæt fram ham gefrægn Higelaces þegn,	When he heard about Grendel, Hygelac’s thane
195	god mid Geatum, Grendles dæda.	Was on home ground, over in Geatland.
	Se wæs moncynnes mægenes strengest	There was no on else like him alive.
	on þæm dæge þysses lifes,	In his day, he was the mightiest man on earth,
	æþele 7 eacen. Het him yðlidan	High-born and powerful. He ordered a boat
	godne gegyrwan. Cwæð, he guðcyning	That would ply the waves. He announced his plan:
200	ofer swanrade secean wolde,	To sail the swan’s road and search out that king,
	mærne þeoden, þa him wæs manna þearf.	The famous prince who needed defenders.
	Đone siðfæt him snotere ceorlas	Nobody tried to keep him from going,
134v	lythwon logon. \| Þeah he him leof wære,	No elder denied him, dear as he was to them.
	hwetton higerofne. Hæl sceawedon.	Instead, they inspected omens and spurred
205	Hæfde, se goda Geata leoda,	His ambition to go, whilst he moved about
	cempan gecorone, þara þe he cenoste	Like the leader he was, enlisting men,
	findan mihte. Fiftyna sum	The best he could find; with fourteen others
	sundwudu sohte, secg wisade,	The warrior boarded the boat as captain,
	lagucræftig mon landgemyrcu.	A canny pilot along coast and currents.
210	Fyrst forð gewat. Flota wæs on yðum,	Time went by, the boat was on water,
	bat under beorge. Beornas gearwe	In close under the cliffs.
	on stefn stigon. Streamas wundon,	Men climbed eagerly up the gangplank,
	sund wið sande. Secgas bæron	sand churned in surf, warriors loaded
	on bearm nacan beorhte frætwe,	a cargo of weapons, shining war-gear
215	guðsearo geatolic. Guman ut scufon,	In the vessel’s hold, then heaved out,
	weras on wilsið wudu bundenne.	Away with a will in their wood-wreathed ship.
	Gewat þa ofer wægholm, winde gefysed,	Over the waves, with the wind behind her
	flota famiheals fugle gelicost,	And foam at her neck, she flew like a bird
	oð þæt ymb antid oþres dogores	Until her curved prow had covered the distance
220	wundenstefna gewaden hæfde,	And on the following day, at the due hour,
	þæt ða liðende land gesawon,	Those seafarers sighted land,
	brimclifu blican, beorgas steape,	Sunlit cliffs, sheer crags
	side sænæssas. Þa wæs sund liden,	And looming headlands, the landfall they sought.
	eoletes æt ende. Þanon up hraðe	It was the end of their voyage and the Geats vaulted
225	Wedera leode on wang stigon,	Over the side, out on to the sand,
	sæwudu sældon. Syrcan hrysedon,	And moored their ship. There was a clash of mail
	guðgewædo. Gode þancedon	And a thresh of gear. They thanked God
	þæs þe him yþlade eaðe wurdon.	For that easy crossing on a calm sea.
135r	\| Þa of wealle geseah weard Scildinga,	When the watchman on the wall, the Shieldings’ lookout
230	se þe holmclifu healdan scolde,	Whose job it was to guard the sea-cliffs,
	beran ofer bolcan beorhte randas,	Saw shields glittering on the gangplank
	fyrdsearu fuslicu. Hine fyrwyt bræc	And battle-equipment being unloaded
	modgehygdum hwæt þa men wæron.	He had to find out who and what
	Gewat him þa to waroðe wicge ridan,	The arrivals were. So he rode to the shore,
235	þegn Hroðgares, þrymmum cwehte	This horseman of Hrothgar’s, and challenged them
	mægenwudu mundum, meþelwordum frægn.	In formal terms, flourishing his spear:
	“Hwæt syndon ge searohæbbendra,	“What kind of men are you who arrive
	byrnum werede, þe þus brontne ceol	Rigged out for combat in coats of mail,
	ofer lagustræte lædan cwomon,	Sailing here over the sea lanes
240	hider ofer holmas?” He on handscole wæs	In your steep-hulled boat? I have been stationed
	endesæta, ægwearde heold;	As lookout on this coast for a long time.
	þe on land Dena laðra nænig	My job is to watch the waves for raiders,
	mid scipherge sceðþan ne meahte.	And danger to the Danish shore.
	“No her cuðlicor cuman ongunnon	Never before has a force under arms
245	lindhæbbende, ne ge leafnesword	Disembarked so openly — not bothering to ask
	guðfremmendra gearwe ne wisson,	If the sentries allowed them safe passage
	maga gemedu. Næfre ic maran geseah	Or the clan had consented. Nor have I seen
	eorla ofer eorþan ðonne is eower sum,	A mightier man-at-arms on this earth
	secg on searwum. Nis þæt seldguma,	Than the one standing here: unless I am mistaken,
250	wæpnum geweorðad. Næfre him his wlite leoge,	He is truly noble. This is no mere
	ænlic ansyn. Nu ic eower sceal	Hanger-on in a hero’s armor.
135v	frumcyn witan, ær ge fyr \| heonan	So now, before you fare inland
	leassceaweras on land Dena	As interlopers, I have to be informed
	furþur feran. Nu ge feorbuend,	About who you are and where you hail from.
255	mereliðende mine gehyrað	Outsiders from across the water,
	anfealdne geþoht: ofost is selest	I say it again: the sooner you tell
	to gecyðanne. Hwanan eowre cyme syndon?”	Where you came from and why, the better.”
{ 5 } .V.
	Him se yldesta andswarode,	The distinguished one delivered this answer,
	werodes wisa, wordhord onleac:	The leader of the troop unlocked his word-hoard:
260	“We synt gumcynnes Geata leode	“We belong by birth to the Geat people
	7 Higelaces heorðgeneatas.	and owe allegiance to Lord Hygelac.
	Wæs min fæder folcum gecyþed,	In my day, my father was a famous man,
	æþele ordfruma, Ecgþeow haten.	A noble warrior name Ecgtheow.
	Gebad wintra worn, ær he on weg hwurfe,	He outlasted many a long winter
265	gamol of geardum. Hine gearwe geman,	And went on his way. All over the world
	witena welhwylc, wide geond eorþan.	Wise men in council continue to remember him.
	We þurh holdne hige hlaford þinne,	We come in good faith to find your lord
	sunu Healfdenes, secean cwomon,	And nation’s shield, the son of Halfdane.
	leodgebyrgean. Wes þu us larena god.	Give us the right to advise and direction.
270	Habbað we to þæm mæran micel ærende,	We have arrived here on a great errand
	Deniga frean. Ne sceal þær dyrne sum	To the lord of the Danes, and I believe therefore
	wesan þæs, ic wene. Þu wast, gif hit is	There should be nothing hidden or withheld between us.
136r	swa we soþlice \| secgan hyrdon,	So tell us if what we have heard is true
	þæt mid Scyldingum sceaðona ic nat hwylc,	About this threat, whatever it is,
275	deogol dædhata, deorcum nihtum,	This danger abroad in the dark nights,
	eaweð þurh egsan uncuðne nið,	This corpse-maker mongering death
	hynðu 7 hrafyl. Ic þæs Hroðgar mæg,	In the Shieldings’ country. I come to proffer
	þurh rumne sefan, ræd gelæran,	My wholehearted help and counsel.
	hu he, frod 7 god, feond oferswyðeþ -	I can show the wise Hrothgar a way
280	gyf him edwendan æfre scolde,	To defeat his enemy and find respite —
	bealuwa bisigu, bot eft cuman.	If any respite is to reach him, ever.
	7 þa cearwylmas colran wurðaþ,	I can calm the turmoil and terror in his mind.
	oððe a syþðan earfoðþrage,	Otherwise, he must endure woes
	þreanyd þolað, þenden þær wunað	And live with grief for as long as his hall
285	on heahstede husa selest.”	Stands at the horizon, on its high ground.”
	Weard maþelode, ðær on wicge sæt,	Undaunted, sitting astride his horse,
	ombeht unforht: “Æghwæþres sceal	The coast-guard answered, “Anyone with gumption
	scearp scyldwiga gescad witan	And a sharp mind will take the measure
	worda 7 worca, se þe wel þenceð.	Of two things: what’s said and what’s done.
290	Ic þæt gehyre, þæt þis is hold weorod	I believe what you have told me: that you are a troop
	frean Scyldinga. Gewitaþ forð beran	Loyal to our king. So come ahead
	wæpen 7 gewædu. Ic eow wisige.	With your arms and your gear, and I will guide you.
	Swylce ic maguþegnas mine hate	What’s more, I’ll order my own comrades
	wið feonda gehwone flotan eowerne,	On their word of honor to watch your boat
295	niwtyrwydne nacan on sande,	Down there on the strand — keep her safe
	arum healdan, oþ ðæt eft byreð	In her fresh tar, until the time comes
136v	ofer lagustrea\|mas leofne mannan,	For her curved prow to preen on the waves
	wudu wundenhals to Wedermearce.	And bear this hero back to Geatland.
	Godfremmendra swylcum gifeþe bið	May one so valiant and venturesome
300	þæt þone hilderæs hal gedigeð.”	Come unharmed through the clash of battle.”
	Gewiton him þa feran. Flota stille bad,	So they went on their way. The ship rode the water,
	seomode on sole, sidfæþmed scip,	Broad-beamed, bound by its hawser
	on ancre fæst. Eoforlic scionon	And anchored fast. Boar-shapes flashed
	ofer hleorberan, gehroden golde;	Above their cheek-guards, the brightly forged
305	fah 7 fyrheard ferhwearde heold.	Work of goldsmiths, watching over
	Guþmod grummon, guman onetton,	Those stern-faced men. They marched in step,
	sigon ætsomne, oþ þæt hy æltimbred,	Hurrying on till the timbered hall
	geatolic 7 goldfah, ongyton mihton.	Rose before them, radiant with gold.
	Þæt wæs foremærost foldbuendum	Nobody on earth knew of another
310	receda under roderum. On þæm se rica bad.	Building like it. Majesty lodged there,
	Lixte se leoma ofer landa fela.	And its light shone over many lands.
	Him þa hildedeor of modigra	So their gallant escort guided them
	torht getæhte, þæt hie him to mihton	To that dazzling stronghold and indicated
	gegnum gangan. Guðbeorna sum	The shortest way to it; then the noble warrior
315	wicg gewende, word æfter cwæð.	Wheeled on his horse and spoke these words:
	“Mæl is me to feran. Fæder alwalda	“It is time for me to go. May the Almighty
	mid arstafum eowic gehealde,	Father keep you and in His kindness
	siða gesunde. Ic to sæ wille,	Watch over your exploits. I’m away to the sea,
137r	wið \| wrað werod wearde healdan.”	Back on alert against enemy raiders.”
{ 5 } .VI.
320	Stræt wæs stanfah, stig wisode	It was a paved track, a path that kept them
	gumum ætgædere. Guðbyrne scan	In marching order. Their mail-shirts glinted,
	heard, hondlocen, hringiren scir	Hard and hand-linked; the high-gloss iron
	song in searwum, þa hie to sele furðum	Of their armor rang. So they duly arrived
	in hyra gryregeatwum gangan cwomon.	In their grim war-graith and gear at the hall,
325	Setton sæmeþe side scyldas,	And, weary from the sea, stacked wide shields
	rondas regnhearde wið þæs recedes weal,	Of the toughest hardwood against the wall,
	bugon þa to bence. Byrnan hringdon,	Then collapsed on the benches; battle-dress
	guðsearo gumena. Garas stodon	And weapons clashed. They collected their spears
	sæmanna searo, samod ætgædere,	In a seafarer’s stook, a stand of grayish
330	æscholt ufan græg. Wæs se irenþreat	Tapering ash. And the troops themselves
	wæpnum gewurþad. Þa ðær wlonc hæleð	Were as good as their weapons. Then a proud warrior
	oretmecgas æfter hæleþum frægn:	Questioned the men concerning their origins:
	“Hwanon ferigeað ge fætte scyldas	“Where do you come from, carrying these
	græge syrcan 7 grimhelmas,	Decorated shields and shirts of mail,
335	heresceafta heap? Ic eom Hroðgares	These cheek-hinged helmets and javelins?
	ar 7 ombiht. Ne seah ic elþeodige	I am Hrothgar’s herald and officer.
	þus manige men modiglicran.	I have never seen so impressive or large
	Wen' ic þæt ge for wlenco, nalles for wræcsiðum,	An assembly of strangers. Stoutness of heart,
137v	ac for hige \| þrymmum Hroðgar sohton.”	Bravery not banishment, must have brought you to Hrothgar.”
340	Him þa ellenrof andswarode,	The man whose name was known for courage,
	wlanc Wedera leod, word æfter spræc,	The Geat leader, resolute in his helmet,
	heard under helme. “We synt Higelaces	Answered in return: “We are retainers
	beodgeneatas. Beowulf is min nama.	From Hygelac’s band. Beowulf is my name.
	Wille ic asecgan sunu Healfdenes,	If your lord and master, the most renowned
345	mærum þeodne, min ærende,	Son of Halfdane, will hear me out
	aldre þinum, gif he us geunnan wile	And graciously allow me to greet him in person,
	þæt we hine swa godne gretan moton.”	I am ready and willing to report my errand.”
	Wulfgar maþelode. Þæt wæs Wendla leod,	Wulfgar replied, a Wendel chief
	wæs his modsefa manegum gecyðed,	Renowned as a warrior, well known for his wisdom
350	wig 7 wisdom: “Ic þæs wine Deniga,	And the temper of his mind: “I will take this message,
	frean Scildinga, frinan wille,	In accordance with your wish, to our noble king,
	beaga bryttan, swa þu bena eart,	Our dear lord, friend of the Danes,
	þeoden mærne ymb þinne sið,	The giver of rings. I will go and ask him
	7 þe þa andsware ædre gecyðan	About your coming here, then hurry back
355	ðe me se goda agifan þenceð.”	With whatever reply it pleases him to give.”
	Hwearf þa hrædlice þær Hroðgar sæt,	With that he turned to where Hrothgar sat,
	eald 7 unhar, mid his eorla gedriht.	An old man among retainers;
	Eode ellenrof þæt he for eaxlum gestod	The valiant follower stood four-square
	Deniga frean. Cuþe he duguðe þeaw.	In front of his king: he knew the courtesies.
138r (360)	Wulfgar maðelode \|to his winedrihtne:	Wulfgar addressed his dear lord:
	“Her syndon geferede, feorran cumene,	“People from Geatland have put ashore.
	ofer geofenes begang Geata leode.	They have sailed far over the wide sea.
	Þone yldestan oretmecgas	They call the chief in charge of their band
	Beowulf nemnað. Hy benan synt,	By the name of Beowulf. They beg, my lord,
365	þæt hie, þeoden min, wið þe moton	An audience with you, exchange of words
	wordum wrixlan. No ðu him wearne geteoh	And formal greeting. Most gracious Hrothgar,
	ðinra gegncwida, glædman Hroðgar.	Do not refuse them, but grant them a reply.
	Hy on wiggetawum wyrðe þinceað	From their arms and appointment, they appear well-born
	eorla geæhtlan. Huru se aldor deah,	And worthy of respect, especially the one
370	se þæm heaðorincum hider wisade.”	Who has led them this far: he is formidable indeed.”
{ 7 } .VII.
	Hroðgar maþelode, helm Scyldinga:	Hrothgar, protector of Shieldings, replied:
	“Ic hine cuðe cnihtwesende.	“I used to know him when I was a young boy.
	Wæs his ealdfæder Ecgþeo haten.	His father before him was called Ecgtheow.
	Đæm to ham forgeaf Hreþel Geata,	Hrethel the Geat gave Ecgtheow
375	angan dohtor. Is his eaforan nu	His daughter in marriage. This man is their son,
	heard her cumen, sohte holdne wine.	Here to follow up an old friendship.
	Đonne sægdon þæt, sæliþende,	A crew of seamen who sailed for me once
	þa ðe gifsceattas Geata fyredon	With a gift-cargo across to Geatland
138v	þyder to þance, þæt he þri\|tiges	Returned with marvelous tales about him:
380	manna mægencræft on his mundgripe	A thane, they declared, with the strength of thirty
	heaþorof hæbbe. Hine halig God	In the grip of each hand. Now Holy God
	for arstafum us onsende,	Has, in His Goodness, guided him here
	to West-Denum. þæs ic wen hæbbe,	To the West-Danes, to defend us from Grendel.
	wið Grendles gryre. Ic þæm godan sceal	This is my hope; and for his heroism
385	for his modþræce madmas beodan.	I will recompense him with a rich treasure.
	Beo ðu on ofeste, hat in gan	Go immediately, bid him and the Geats
	seon sibbegedriht samod ætgædere.	He has in attendance to assemble and enter.
	Gesaga him eac wordum þæt hie sint wilcuman	Say, moreover, when you speak to them, that they are welcome
	Deniga léodum.' [Þá to dura healle	in Denmark.” Then to the door of the building
	Wulf-gár éode,] word inne abéad:	Wulfgar went, a word from within announced:
390	“Eow het secgan, sigedrihten min,	“My lord, the conquering king of the Danes,
	aldor East-Dena, þæt he eower æþelu can,	Bids me announce that he knows your ancestry;
	7 ge him syndon ofer sæwylmas	Also that he welcomes you here to Heorot
	heardhicgende hider wilcuman.	And salutes your arrival from across the sea.
	Nu ge moton gangan in eowrum guðgeatawum,	You are free now to move forward
395	under heregriman, Hroðgar geseon.	To meet Hrothgar, in helmets and armor,
	Lætað hildebord her onbidan,	But shields must stay here and spears be stacked
	wuduwælsceaftas, worda geþinges.”	Until the outcome of the audience is clear.”
	Aras þa se rica, ymb hine rinc manig,	The hero arose, surrounded closely
	þryðlic þegna heap. Sume þær bidon,	By his powerful thanes. A party remained
139r	heaðoreaf heoldon, swa him se \| hearda bebead.	Under orders to keep watch on the arms;
	Snyredon ætsomne, þa secg wisode	The rest proceeded, lead by their prince
	under Heorotes hrof,	Under Heorot’s roof. And standing on the hearth
	heard under helme, þæt he on heoðe gestod.	In webbed links that the smith had woven,
	Beowulf maðelode. On him byrne scan,	The fine-forged mesh of his gleaming mail shirt,
405	searonet seowed smiþes orþancum:	Resolute in his helmet, Beowulf spoke:
	“Wæs þu, Hroðgar, hal. Ic eom Higelaces	“Greetings to Hrothgar. I am Hygelac’s kinsman,
	mæg 7 magoðegn. Hæbbe ic mærða fela	One of his hall-troop. When I was younger,
	ongunnen on geogoþe. Me wearð Grendles þing	I had great triumphs. Then news of Grendel,
	on minre eþeltyrf undyrne cuð.	Hard to ignore, reached me at home:
410	Secgað sæliðend þæt þæs sele stande,	Sailors brought stories of the plight you suffer
	reced selesta rinca gehwylcum,	In this legendary hall, how it lies deserted,
	idel 7 unnyt, siððan æfenleoht	Empty and useless once the evening light
	under heofenes hador beholen weorþeð.	Hides itself under Heaven’s dome.
	Þa me þæt gelærdon, leode mine,	So every elder and experienced councilman
415	þa selestan, snotere ceorlas,	Among my people supported my resolve
	þeoden Hroðgar, þæt ic þe sohte,	To come here to you, King Hrothgar,
	for þan hie mægenes cræft mine cuþon;	Because all knew of my awesome strength.
	selfe ofersawon, ða ic of searwum cwom,	They had seen me boltered in the blood of enemies
	fah from feondum, þær ic fife geband,	When I battled and bound five beasts,
420	yðde eotena cyn, 7 on yðum slog	Raided a troll-nest and in the night-sea
	niceras nihtes, nearoþearfe dreah,	Slaughtered sea-brutes. I have suffered extremes
139v	wræc \| Wedera nið. Wean ahsodon,	And avenged the Geats (their enemies brought it
	forgrand gramum. 7 nu wið Grendel sceal,	Upon themselves, I devastated them).
	wið þam aglæcan ana gehegan	Now I mean to be a match for Grendel,
425	ðing wið þyrse. Ic þe nu ða,	Settle the outcome in a single combat.
	brego Beorht-Dena biddan wille,	And so, my request, O king of Bright-Danes,
	eodor Scyldinga, anre bene,	Dear prince pf the Shieldings, friend of the people
	þæt ðu me ne forwyrne, wigendra hleo,	And their ring of defense, my one request
	freowine folca, nu ic þus feorran com:	Is that you won’t refuse me, who have come this far,
430	þæt ic mote ana, na minra eorla gedryht	The privilege of purifying Heorot,
	7 þes hearda heap, Heorot fælsian.	With my own men to help me, and nobody else.
	Hæbbe ic eac geahsod þæt se æglæca	I have heard moreover that the monster scorns
	for his wonhydum wæpna ne recceð.	In his reckless way to use weapons;
	Ic þæt þonne forhicge, swa me Higelac sie,	Therefore, to heighten Hygelac’s fame
435	min mondrihten, modes bliðe,	And gladden his heart, I hereby renounce
	þæt ic sweord bere oþðe sidne scyld,	Sword and the shelter of the broad shield,
	geolorand to guþe. Ac ic mid grape sceal	The heavy war-board: hand-to-hand
	fon wið feonde 7 ymb feorh sacan,	Is how it will be, a life-and-death
	lað wið laþum. Đær gelyfan sceal	Fight with the fiend. Whichever one death fells
440	Dryhtnes dome, se þe hine deað nimeð.	Must deem it a just judgment by God.
	Wen' ic þæt he wille, gif he wealdan mot	If Grendel wins, it will be a gruesome day;
	in þæm guðsele, Geotena leode	He will glut himself on the Geats in the war-hall,
140r	etan unforhte, swa he \| oft dyde	Swoop without fear on that flower of manhood
	mægenhreð manna. Na þu minne þearft	As on others before. Then my face won’t be there
445	hafalan hydan, ac he me habban wile	To be covered in death; he will carry me away
	deore fahne, gif mec deað nimeð.	As he goes to ground, gorged and bloodied;
	Byreð blodig wæl, byrgean þenceð,	He will run gloating with my raw corpse
	eteð angenga unmurnlice,	And feed on it alone, in a cruel frenzy,
	mearcað morhopu. No ðu ymb mines ne þearft	Fouling his moor-nest. No need then
450	lices feorme leng sorgian.	To lament for long or lay out my body:
	Onsend Higelace, gif mec hild nime,	If the battle takes me, send back
	beaduscruda betst þæt mine breost wereð,	This breast-webbing that Weland fashioned
	hrægla selest. Þæt is Hrædlan laf	And Hrethel gave me, to Hygelac.
	Welandes geweorc. Gæð a wyrd swa hio scel.	Fate goes ever as fate must.”
{ 8 } .VIII.
455	Hroðgar maþelode, helm Scyldinga:	Hrothgar, the helmet of the Shieldings, spoke:
	“Fere fyhtum, þu, wine min Beowulf,	“Beowulf, my friend, you have traveled here
	7 for arstafum, usic sohtest.	To favor us with help and fight for us.
	Gesloh þin fæder fæhðe mæste.	There was a feud one time, begun by your father.
	Wearþ he Heaþolafe to handbonan	With his own hands he had killed Heatholaf,
460	mid Wilfingum. Đa hine wigara cyn	Who was a Wulfing; so war was looming
	for herebrogan habban ne mihte.	And his people, in fear of it, forced him to leave.
	Þanon he gesohte Suð-Dena folc	He came away then over rolling waves
140v	ofer yða gewealc Ar-\|Scyldinga.	To the South Danes here, the sons of honor.
	Đa ic furþum weold folce Deninga	I was then in the full flush of kingship,
465	7 on geogoðe heold gimmerice,	Establishing my sway over all the rich strongholds
	hordburh hæleþa. Đa wæs Heregar dead,	Of this heroic land. Heorogar,
	min yldra mæg unlifigende,	My older brother and the better man,
	bearn Healfdenes. Se wæs betera ðonne ic.	Also a son of Halfdane’s, had died.
	Siððan þa fæhðe feo þingode.	Finally I healed the feud by paying:
470	Sende ic Wylfingum ofer wæteres hrycg	I shipped a treasure-trove to the Wulfings
	ealde madmas. He me aþas swor.	And Ecgtheow acknowledged me with oaths of allegiance
	Sorh is me to secganne on sefan minum,	“It bothers me to have to burden anyone
	gumena ængum, hwæt me Grendel hafað	With all the grief Grendel has caused
	hynðo on Heorote mid his heteþancum,	And the havoc he has wreaked upon us in Heorot,
475	færniða gefremed. Is min fletwerod,	Our humiliations. My household-guard
	wigheap gewanod. Hie wyrd forsweop	Are on the wane, fate sweeps them away
	on Grendles gryre. God eaþe mæg	Into Grendel’s clutches---but God can easily
	þone dolsceaðan dæda getwæfan.	Halt these raids and harrowing attacks!
	Ful oft gebeotedon, beore druncne,	“Time and again, when the goblets passed
480	ofer ealowæge oretmecgas,	And seasoned fighters got flushed with beer
	þæt hie in beorsele bidan woldon	They would pledge themselves to protect Heorot
	Grendles guþe mid gryrum ecga.	And wait for Grendel with whetted swords.
	Đonne wæs þeos medoheal on morgentid	But when dawn broke and day crept in
	drihtsele dreorfah, þonne dæg lixte,	Over each empty, blood-spattered bench,
141r	eal \| bencþelu blode bestymed,	The floor of the mead-hall where they had feasted
	heall heorudreore. Ahte ic holdra þy læs,	Would be slick with slaughter. And so they died,
	deorre duguðe, þe þa deað fornam.	Faithful retainers, and my following dwindled.
	Site nu to symle 7 onsæl meoto,	Now take your place at the table, relish
	sigehreð secgum, swa þin sefa hwette.”	The triumph of heroes to your heart’s content.”
490	Þa wæs Geatmæcgum geador ætsomne	Then a bench was cleared in that banquet hall
	on beorsele benc gerymed.	So the Geats could have room to be together
	Þær swiðferhþe sittan eodon,	And the party sat, proud in their bearing,
	þryðum dealle. Þegn nytte beheold,	Strong and stalwart. An attendant stood by
	se þe on handa bær hroden ealowæge,	With a decorated pitcher, pouring bright
495	scencte scir wered. Scop hwilum sang	Helpings of mead. And the minstrel sang,
	hador on Heorote. Þær wæs hæleða dream,	Filling Heorot with his head-clearing voice,
	duguð unlytel Dena 7 Wedera.	Gladdening that great rally of Danes and Geats.
{ 9 } .IX.
	HVNferð maþelode, Ecglafes bearn,	From where he crouched at the king’s feet,
	þe æt fotum sæt frean Scyldinga.	Unferth, a son of Ecglaf’s, spoke
500	Onband beadurune. Wæs him Beowulfes sið,	Contrary words. Beowulf’s coming,
	modges merefaran, micel æfþunca,	His sea-braving, made him sick with envy:
	forþon þe he ne uþe þæt ænig oðer man	He could not brook or abide the fact
141v	æfre \| mærða þon ma middangeardes	That anyone else alive under heaven
	gehedde under heofenum þonne he sylfa:	Might enjoy greater regard than he did:
505	“Eart þu se Beowulf, se þe wið Brecan wunne	“Are you the Beowulf who took on Breca
	on sidne sæ, ymb sund flite,	In a swimming match on the open sea,
	ðær git for wlence wada cunnedon	Risking the water just to prove you could win?
	7 for dolgilpe on deop wæter	It was sheer vanity made you venture out
	aldrum neþdon? Ne inc ænig mon,	On the main deep. And no matter who tried,
510	ne leof ne lað, belean mihte	Friend or foe, to deflect the pair of you,
	sorhfullne sið, þa git on sund reon.	Neither would back down: the sea-test obsessed you.
	Þær git eagorstream earmum þehton,	You waded in, embracing water,
	mæton merestræta, mundum brugdon,	Taking its measure, mastering currents,
	glidon ofer garsecg. Geofon yþum weol	Riding on the swell. The ocean swayed,
515	in wintrys wylm. Git on wæteres æht	Winter went wild in the waves, but you vied
	seofon niht swuncon. He þe æt sunde oferflat,	For seven nights; and then he outswam you,
	hæfde mare mægen. Þa hine on morgentid	Came ashore the stronger contender.
	on Heaþo-Ræmes. holm up ætbær,	He was cast up safe and sound one morning
	Đonon he gesohte swæsne .eðel.,	Among the Heathoreams, then made his way
520	leof his leodum, lond Brondinga,	To where he belonged in Bronding country,
	freoðoburh fægere, þær he folc ahte,	Home again, sure of his ground
142r	burh 7 beagas. \| Beot eal wið þe	In strong room and bawn. So Breca made good
	sunu Beanstanes soðe gelæste.	His boast upon you and was proved right.
	Đonne wene ic to þe wyrsan geþingea,	No matter, therefore, how you may have fared
525	ðeah þu heaðoræsa gehwær dohte,	In every bout and battle until now,
	grimre guðe, gif þu Grendles dearst	This time you’ll be worsted; no one has ever
	nihtlongne fyrst nean bidan.”	Outlasted an entire night against Grendel.”
	Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:	Beowulf, Ecgtheow’s son, replied:
	“Hwæt, þu worn fela, wine min Hunferð,	“Well, friend Unferth, you have had your say
530	beore druncen, ymb Brecan spræce,	About Breca and me. But it was mostly beer
	sægdest from his siðe. Soð ic talige	That was doing the talking. The truth is this:
	þæt ic merestrengo maran ahte,	When the going was heavy in those high waves,
	earfeþo on yþum, ðonne ænig oþer man.	I was the strongest swimmer of all.
	Wit þæt gecwædon, cnihtwesende	We’d been children together and we grew up
535	7 gebeotedon, wæron begen þa git	Daring ourselves to outdo each other,
	on geogoðfeore, þæt wit on garsecg ut	Boasting and urging each other to risk
	aldrum neðdon, 7 þæt geæfndon swa.	Our lives on the sea. And so it turned out.
	Hæfdon swurd nacod, þa wit on sund reon,	Each of us swam holding a sword,
	heard on handa. Wit unc wið hronfixas	A naked, hard-proofed blade for protection
540	werian þohton. No he wiht fram me	Against the whale-beasts. But Breca could never
	flodyþum feor fleotan meahte,	Move out farther or faster from me
	hraþor on holme, no ic fram him wolde.	Than I could manage to move from him.
142v	Đa wit æt\|somne on sæ wæron	Shoulder to shoulder, we struggled on
	fif nihta fyrst, oþ þæt unc flod todraf,	For five nights, until the long flow
545	wado weallende, wedera cealdost,	And pitch of the waves, the perishing cold,
	nipende niht, 7 norþanwind,	Night falling and winds from the North
	heaðogrim ondhwearf. Hreo wæron yþa!	Drove us apart. The deep boiled up
	Wæs merefixa mod onhrered:	And its wallowing sent the sea-brutes wild.
	þær me wið laðum licsyrce min	My armor held me to hold out;
550	heard hondlocen, helpe gefremede,	My hard-ringed chain-mail, hand-forged and linked,
	beadohrægl broden on breostum læg,	A fine, close-fitting filigree of gold,
	golde gegyrwed. Me to grunde teah,	Kept me safe when some ocean creature
	fah feondscaða, fæste hæfde,	Pulled me to the bottom. Pinioned fast
	grim on grape. Hwæþre me gyfeþe wearð	And swathed in its grip, I was granted one
555	þæt ic aglæcan orde geræhte,	Final chance: my sword plunged
	hildebille. Heaþoræs fornam	And the ordeal was over. Through my own hands
	mihtig meredeor þurh mine hand.”	The fury of battle had finished off the sea-beast.
{ 10 } .X.
	“Swa mec gelome laðgeteonan	“Time and again, foul things attacked me,
	þreatedon þearle. Ic him þenode	Lurking and stalking, but I lashed out,
560	deoran sweorde, swa hit gedefe wæs.	Gave as good as I got with my sword.
	Næs hie ðære fylle gefean hæfdon,	My flesh was not for feasting on,
	manfordædlan, þæt hie me þegon,	There would be no monsters gnawing and gloating
	symbel ymbsæton sægrunde neah.	Over their banquet at the bottom of the sea.
143r	Ac on mergenne, mecum \| wunde,	Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping
565	be yðlafe uppe lægon,	The sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated
	sweordum aswefede, þæt syðþan na	Like the ocean’s leavings. From now on
	ymb brontne ford brimliðende	Sailors would the safe, the deep-sea raids
	lade ne letton. Leoht eastan com,	Were over for good. Light came from the East,
	beorht beacen Godes, brimu swaþredon,	Bright guarantee of God, and the waves
570	þæt ic sænæssas geseon mihte,	Went quiet; I could see the headlands
	windige weallas. Wyrd oft nereð	And buffeted cliffs. Often, for undaunted courage,
	unfægne eorl, þonne his ellen deah.	Fate spares the man it has not already marked.
	Hwæþere me gesælde þæt ic mid sweorde ofsloh	However it had occurred, my sword had killed
	niceras nigene. No ic on niht gefrægn	Nine sea monsters. Such night-dangers
575	under heofones hwealf heardran feohtan,	And hard ordeals I have never heard of
	ne on egstreamum earmran mannon.	Nor of a man so desolate in surging waves.
	Hwaþere ic fara feng feore gedigde,	But worn out as I was, I survived, Came through with my life.
	siþes werig. Đa mec sæ oþbær,	The ocean lifted And laid me ashore,
	flod æfter faroðe, on Finna land,	I landed safe On the coast of Finland.
580	wadu weallendu. No ic wiht fram þe	Now, I cannot recall
	swylcra searoniða secgan hyrde,	any fight you entered, Unferth, That bears comparison.
	billa brogan. Breca næfre git	I don’t boast when I say That neither you nor Breca
	æt heaðolace, ne gehwæþer incer,	ever were much
	swa deorlice dæd gefremede	Celebrated for swordsmanship
585	fagum sweordum. No ic þæs gylpe,	Or for facing danger in the battlefield.
	þeah ðu þinum broðrum to banan wurde,	You killed your own kith and kin,
143v	heafodmægum. Þæs þu in \| helle scealt	So for all your cleverness and quick tongue,
	werhðo dreogan, þeah þin wit duge.	You will suffer damnation in the pits of hell.
	Secge ic þe to soðe, sunu Ecglafes,	The fact is, Unferth, if you were truly As keen or courageous as you claim to be
590	þæt næfre Gredel swa fela gryra gefremede,	Grendel would never have got away with
	atol æglæca ealdre þinum,	Such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king,
	hynðo on Heorote, gif þin hige wære,	Havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.
	sefa swa searogrim swa þu self talast.	But he knows he need never be in dread
	Ac he hafað onfunden þæt he þa fæhðe ne þearf,	Of your blade making a mizzle of his blood
595	atole ecgþræce eower leode	Or of vengeance arriving ever from this quarter —
	swiðe onsittan Sige-Scyldinga.	From the Victory-Shieldings, the shoulderers of the spear.
	Nymeð nydbade, nænegum arað	He knows he can trample down you Danes
	leode Deniga, ac he lust wigeð,	To his heart’s content, humiliate and murder
	swefeð ond sendeþ, secce ne weneþ	Without fear of reprisal, nor feud he dreads
600	to Gar-Denum. Ac ic him Geata sceal	from Spear-Dane men. But speedily now
	eafoð 7 ellen ungeara nu	shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats,
	guþe gebeodan. Gæþ eft, se þe mot,	shall bid him battle. Then whoever wants to
	to medo modig, siþþan morgenleoht	May go bravely to morning mead, when morning light,
	ofer ylda bearn oþres dogores,	Scarfed in sun-dazzle, shines forth from the south
605	sunne sweglwered suþan scineð.”	And brings another daybreak to the world.”
	Þa wæs on salum sinces brytta,	Then the gray-haired treasure-giver was glad;
	gamolfeax 7 guðrof. Geoce gelyfde,	Far-famed in battle,
144r	\| brego Beorht-Dena, gehyrde on Beowulfe,	the prince of Bright-Danes And keeper of his people counted on Beowulf,
	folces hyrde, fæstrædne geþoht.	On the warrior’s steadfastness and his word.
610	Đær wæs hæleþa hleahtor, hlyn swynsode,	So the laughter started, the din got louder
	word wæron wynsume. Eode Wealhþeow forð,	And the crowd was happy. Wealhtheow came in,
	cwen Hroðgares, cynna gemyndig,	Hrothgar’s queen, observing the courtesies.
	grette goldhroden guman on healle.	Adorned in her gold, she graciously saluted
	7 þa freolic wif ful gesealde	The men in the hall, then handed the cup
615	ærest East-Dena eþelwearde,	First to Hrothgar, their homeland’s guardian,
	bæd hine bliðne æt þære beorþege,	Urging him to drink deep and enjoy it,
	leodum leofne. He on lust geþeah	Because he was dear to them. And he drank it down
	symbel 7 seleful, sigerof kyning.	Like the warlord he was, with festive cheer.
	Ymbeode þa, ides Helminga,	So the Helming woman went on her rounds,
620	duguþe 7 geogoþe dæl æghwylcne,	Queenly and dignified, decked out in rings,
	sincfato sealde, oþ þæt sæl alamp	Offering the goblet to all ranks,
	þæt hio Beowulfe, beaghroden cwen,	Treating the household and the assembled troop
	mode geþungen, medoful ætbær.	Until it was Beowulf’s turn to take it from her hand.
	Grette Geata leod, Gode þancode	With measured words she welcomed the Geat
625	wisfæst wordum, þæs ðe hire se willa gelamp,	And thanked God for granting her wish
	þæt heo on ænigne eorl gelyfde	That a deliverer she could believe in would arrive
	fyrena frofre. He þæt ful geþeah,	To ease their afflictions. He accepted the cup,
144v	wælreow wiga \| æt Wealhþeon	A daunting man, dangerous in action And eager for it always. And Wealhtheow
	7 þa gyddode, guþe gefysed.	was answered by the eager-for-combat.
630	Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, said:
	“Ic þæt hogode, þa ic on holm gestah,	“I had a fixed purpose when I put out to sea.
	sæbat gesæt mid minra secga gedriht,	As I sat in the boat with my band of men,
	þæt ic anunga eowra leoda	I meant to perform to the uttermost
	willan geworhte, oþðe on wæl crunge,	What your people wanted or perish in the attempt,
635	feondgrapum fæst. Ic gefremman sceal	In the fiend’s clutches. And I shall fulfill that purpose,
	eorlic ellen, oþðe endedæg	Prove myself with a proud deed
	on þisse meoduhealle minne gebidan.”	Or meet my death here in the mead-hall.”
	Đam wife þa word wel licodon,	This formal boast by Beowulf the Geat
	gilpcwide Geates. Eode goldhroden,	Pleased the lady well and she went to sit
640	freolicu folccwen, to hire frean sittan.	By Hrothgar, regal and arrayed with gold.
	Þa wæs eft, swa ær inne on healle,	Then it was like old times in the echoing hall,
	þryðword sprecen, ðeod on sælum,	Proud talk and the people happy,
	sigefolca sweg, oþ þæt semninga	Loud and excited; until soon enough
	sunu Healfdenes secean wolde	Halfdane’s heir had to be away
645	æfenræste. Wiste þæm ahlæcan	To his night’s rest. He realized
	to þæm heahsele hilde geþinged,	That the demon was going to descend on the hall
	siððan hie sunnan leoht geseon meahton,	That he had plotted all day, from dawn-light
	oþ ðe nipende niht ofer ealle,	Until darkness gathered again over the world
	scaduhelma gesceapu scriðan cwoman,	And stealthy night-shades came stealing forth
650	wan under wolcnum. Werod eall aras.	Under the cloud-murk. The company stood
	Grette þa guma guman oþerne,	As the two leaders took leave of each other:
	Hroðgar Beowulf, 7 him hæl abead,	Hrothgar wished Beowulf health and good luck,
145r	winærnes \| geweald, 7 þæt word acwæð:	Named him hall-warden and announced as follows:
	“Næfre ic ænegum men ær alyfde,	“Never, since my hand could hold a shield
655	siþðan ic hond 7 rond hebban mihte,	Have I entrusted or given control
	ðryþærn Dena, buton þe nu ða.	Of the Dane’s hall to anyone but you.
	Hafa nu 7 geheald husa selest,	Ward and guard it, for it is the greatest of houses.
	gemyne mærþo, mægenellen cyð,	Be on your mettle now, keep in mind your fame,
	waca wið wraþum. Ne bið þe wilna gad	Beware of the enemy. There’s nothing you wish for
660	gif þu þæt ellenweorc aldre gedigest.”	That won’t be yours if you win through alive.”
{ 11 } .XI.
	ĐA him Hroþgar gewat mid his hæleþa gedryht,	Hrothgar departed then with his house-guard.
	eodur Scyldinga ut of healle.	The lord of the Shieldings, their shelter in war,
	Wolde wigfruma Wealhþeo secan,	Left the mead-hall to lie with Wealhtheow,
	cwen to gebeddan. Hæfde Kyningwuldor	His queen and bedmate. The King of Glory
665	Grendle togeanes, swa guman gefrungon,	(as people learned) had posted a lookout
	seleweard aseted. Sundornytte beheold	Who was a match for Grendel, a guard against monsters,
	ymb aldor Dena, eotonweard abead.	Special protection to the Danish prince.
	Huru Geata leod georne truwode	And the Geat placed complete trust
	modgan mægnes, Metodes hyldo.	In his strength of limb and the Lord’s favor.
670	Đa he him of dyde isernbyrnan,	He began to remove his iron breast-mail,
	helm of hafelan, sealde his hyrsted sweord,	Took off the helmet and handed his attendant
	irena cyst, ombihtþegne,	The patterned sword, a smith’s masterpiece,
	7 gehealdan het hildegeatwe.	Ordering him to keep the equipment guarded.
	Gespræc þa se goda gylpworda sum,	And before he bedded down, Beowulf,
145v	Beowulf \| Geata, ær he on bed stige:	That prince of goodness, proudly asserted:
	“No ic me an herewæsmun hnagran talige,	“When it comes to fighting, I count myself
	guþgeweorca, þonne Grendel hine.	As dangerous any day as Grendel.
	Forþan ic hine sweorde swebban nelle,	So it won’t be a cutting edge I’ll wield
	aldre beneotan, þeah ic eal mæge.	To mow him down, easily as I might.
680	Nat he þara goda, þæt he me ongean slea,	He has no ideas of the arts of war,
	rand geheawe, þeah ðe he rof sie	Of shield or sword-play, though he does possess
	niþgeweorca. Ac wit on niht sculon	A wild strength. No weapons, therefore,
	secge ofersittan, gif he gesecean dear	For either this night: unarmed he shall face me
	wig ofer wæpen. 7 siþðan witig God,	If face me he dares. And may the Divine Lord
685	on swa hwæþere hond, halig Dryhten,	In His wisdom grant victory
	mærðo deme, swa him gemet þince.”	To whichever side He sees fit.”
	Hylde hine þa, heaþodeor, hleorbolster onfeng	Then down the brave man lay with his bolster
	eorles andwlitan, 7 hine ymb monig	Under his head and his whole company
	snellic særinc selereste gebeah.	Of sea-rovers at rest beside him.
690	Nænig heora þohte, þæt he þanon scolde	None of them expected he would ever see
	eft eardlufan æfre gesecean,	His homeland again or get back
	folc oþðe freoburh, þær he afeded wæs.	To his native place and the people who reared him.
	Ac hie hæfdon gefrunen þæt hie ær, to fela micles,	They knew too well the way it was before,
	in þæm winsele wældeað fornam	How often the Danes had fallen prey
695	Denigea leode. Ac him Dryhten forgeaf	To death in the mead-hall. But the Lord was weaving
146r	wigspeda gewiofu Wedera leodum,	A victory on his war-loom for the Weather-Geats.
	frofor 7 fultum, þæt hie feond heora	Through the strength of one they all prevailed;
	ðurh anes cræft ealle ofercomon,	They would crush their enemy and come through
	selfes mihtum. Soð is gecyþed,	In triumph and gladness. The truth is clear:
700	þæt mihtig God manna cynnes	Almighty God rules over mankind
	weold wideferhð. Com on wanre niht	And always has. Then out of the night
	scriðan sceadugenga. Sceotend swæfon,	Came the shadow-stalker, stealthy and swift;
	þa þæt hornreced healdan scoldon,	The hall-guards were slack, asleep at their posts,
	ealle buton anum. Þæt wæs yldum cuþ,	All except one; it was widely understood
705	þæt hie ne moste, þa Metod nolde,	That as long as God disallowed it,
	se synscaþa under sceadu bregdan.	The fiend could not bear them to his shadow-bourne.
	Ac he wæccende wraþum on andan	One man, however, was in a fighting mood,
	bad bolgenmod beadwa geþinges.	Awake and on edge, spoiling for action.
{ 12 } .XII.
	Đa com of more under misthleoþum	In off the moors, down through the mist-bands
710	Grendel gongan, Godes yrre bær.	God-cursed Grendel came greedily loping.
	Mynte, se manscaða manna cynnes,	The bane of the race of men roamed forth,
	sumne besyrwan in sele þam hean.	Hunting for a prey in the high hall.
	Wod under wolcnum to þæs þe he winreced,	Under the cloud-murk he moved towards it
	goldsele gumena gearwost wisse,	Until it shone above him, a sheer keep
715	fættum fahne. Ne wæs þæt forma sið	Of fortified gold. Nor was that the first time
	þæt he Hroþgares ham gesohte.	He had scouted the grounds of Hrothgar’s dwelling —
146v	Næfre he on aldordagum, ær \| ne siþðan,	Although never in his life, before or since,
	heardran hæle healðegnas fand.	Did he find harder fortune or hall-defenders.
	Com þa to recede, rinc siðian,	Spurned and joyless, he journeyed on ahead
720	dreamum bedæled. Duru sona onarn,	And arrived at the building. The iron-braced door
	fyrbendum fæst, syþðan he hire folmum æthran.	Turned in its hinge when his hand touched it.
	Onbræd þa, bealohydig, ða he gebolgen wæs,	Then his rage boiled over, he ripped open
	recedes muþan. Raþe æfter þon	The mouth of the building, maddening for blood,
	on fagne flor feond treddode,	Pacing the length of the patterned floor
725	eode yrremod. Him of eagum stod	With his loathsome tread, while a baleful light,
	ligge gelicost leoht unfæger.	Flame more than light, flared from his eyes.
	Geseah he in recede rinca manige,	He saw many men in the mansion, sleeping,
	swefan sibbegedriht samod ætgædere	A ranked company of kinsmen and warriors
	magorinca heap. Þa his mod ahlog,	Quartered together. And his glee was demonic,
730	mynte þæt he gedælde, ær þon dæg cwome,	For the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,
	atol aglæca anra gehwylces	The loathsome monster, from each of the men
	lif wið lic. Þa him alumpen wæs	To rip life from limb and devour them. He awaited a banquet,
	wistfylle wen. Ne wæs þæt wyrd þa gen	A prospect of plenty. But no longer did Wyrd allow
	þæt he ma moste manna cynnes	to be able to feed on mankind’s flesh
735	ðicgean ofer þa niht. Þryðswyð beheold,	to devour after that night. Mighty and canny,
	mæg Higelaces, hu se manscaða	Hygelac’s kinsman was keenly watching
	under færgripum gefaran wolde.	For the first move the monster would make.
	Ne þæt se aglæca yldan þohte,	Nor did the creature keep him waiting
147A (131)r	ac he ge\|feng hraðe forman siðe	But struck suddenly and started in;
740	slæpendne rinc, slat unwearnum,	He grabbed and mauled a man on his bench,
	bat banlocan, blod edrum dranc,	Bit into his bone-lappings, bolted down his blood
	synsnædum swealh. Sona hæfde	And gorged on him in lumps, leaving the body
	unlyfigendes eal gefeormod	Utterly lifeless, eaten up
	fet 7 folma. Forð near ætstop,	Hand and foot. Venturing closer,
745	nam þa mid handa higeþihtigne	his talon was raised to attack Beowulf
	rinc on ræste, ræhte ongean,	Where he lay on the bed; he was bearing in
	feond mid folme. He onfeng hraþe	With open claw when the alert hero’s
	inwitþancum 7 wið earm gesæt.	Comeback and armlock forestalled him utterly.
	Sona þæt onfunde, fyrena hyrde,	The captain of evil discovered himself
750	þæt he ne mette middangeardes,	In a handgrip harder than anything
	eorþan sceatta, on elran men	He had ever encountered in any man
	mundgripe maran. He on mode wearð	On the face of the earth. Every bone in his body
	forht on ferhðe. No þy ær fram meahte.	Quailed and coiled, but he could not escape.
	Hyge wæs him hinfus, wolde on heolster fleon,	He was desperate to flee to his den and hide
755	secan deofla gedræg. Ne wæs his drohtoð þær	With the devil’s litter, for in all his days
	swylce he on ealderdagum ær gemette.	He had never been clamped or cornered like this.
	Gemunde þa, se goda mæg Higelaces,	Then Hygelac’s trusty retainer recalled
	æfenspræce. Uplang astod	His bedtime speech, sprang to his feet
	7 him fæste wiðfeng. Fingras burston.	And got a firm hold. Fingers were bursting,
760	Eoten wæs utweard, eorl furþur stop.	The monster back-tracking, the man overpowering.
147A (131)v	Mynte se mæra, \| hwær he meahte swa,	The dread of the land was desperate to escape,
	widre gewindan, 7 on weg þanon	To take a roundabout road and flee
	fleon on fenhopu. Wiste his fingra geweald	To his lair in the fens. The latching power
	on grames grapum, þæt he wæs geocor sið	In his fingers weakened; it was the worst trip
765	þæt se hearmscaþa to Heorute ateah.	The terror-monger had taken to Heorot.
	Dryhtsele dynede. Denum eallum wearð,	And now the timber trembled and sang,
	ceasterbuendum, cenra gehwylcum,	A hall-session that harrowed every Dane
	eorlum ealuscerwen. Yrre wæron begen,	Inside the stockade: stumbling in fury,
	reþe renweardas. Reced hlynsode.	The two contenders crashed through the building.
770	Þa wæs wundor micel þæt se winsele	The hall clattered and hammered, but somehow
	wiðhæfde heaþodeorum, þæt he on hrusan ne feol,	Survived the onslaught and kept standing:
	fæger foldbold. Ac he þæs fæste wæs,	It was handsomely structured, a sturdy frame
	innan 7 utan irenbendum,	Braced with the best of blacksmith’s work
	searoþoncum besmiþod. Þær fram sylle abeag	Inside and out. The story goes
775	medubenc monig, mine gefræge,	That as the pair struggled, mead benches were smashed
	golde geregnad, þær þa graman wunnon.	And sprung off the floor, gold fittings and all.
	Þæs ne wendon ær, witan Scyldinga,	Before then, no Shielding elder would believe
	þæt hit a mid gemete manna ænig,	There was any power or person on earth
	betlic 7 banfag tobrecan meahte,	Capable of wrecking their horn-rigged hall
780	listum tolucan, nymþe liges fæþm	Unless the burning embrace of fire
147r	swulge on swaþule. Sweg \| up astag,	Engulf it in flame. Then an extraordinary
	niwe geneahhe: Norð-Denum stod	Wail arose, and bewildering fear
	atelic egesa, anra gehwylcum	Came over the Danes. Everyone felt it
	þara þe of wealle wop gehyrdon,	Who heard that cry as it echoed off the wall,
785	gryreleoð galan Godes andsacan,	A God-cursed scream and strain of catastrophe,
	sigeleasne sang, sar wanigean,	The howl of the loser, the lament of the hell-serf
	helle hæfton. Heold hine fæste,	Keening his wound. He was overwhelmed,
	se þe manna wæs mægene strengest	Manacled tight by the man who of all men
	on þæm dæge þysses lifes.	Was foremost and strongest in the days of this life.
{ 13 } .XIII.
790	Nolde, eorla hleo, ænige þinga	But the earl troop’s leader was not inclined
	þone cwealmcuman cwicne forlætan,	To allow his caller to depart alive:
	ne his lifdagas leoda ænigum	He did not consider that life of much account
	nytte tealde. Þær genehost brægd	To anyone anywhere. Time and again,
	eorl Beowulfes, ealde lafe,	Beowulf’s warriors worked to defend
795	wolde freadrihtnes feorh ealgian,	Their lord’s life, laying about them
	mæres þeodnes, ðær hie meahton swa.	As best they could with their ancestral blades.
	Hie þæt ne wiston, þa hie gewin drugon,	Stalwart in action, they kept striking out
	heardhicgende hildemecgas,	On every side, seeking to cut
	7 on healfa gehwone heawan þohton,	Straight to the soul. When they joined the struggle
800	sawle secan: þone synscaðan	There was something they could have not known at the time,
	ænig ofer eorþan, irenna cyst,	That no blade on earth, no blacksmith’s art
	guðbilla nan gretan nolde.	Could ever damage their demon opponent.
147v	Ac he sigewæpnum \| forsworen hæfde,	He had conjured the harm from the cutting edge
	ecga gehwylcre. Scolde his aldorgedal,	Of every weapon. But his going away
805	on ðæm dæge þysses lifes,	Out of the world and the days of his life
	earmlic wurðan, 7 se ellorgast	Would be agony to him, and his alien spirit
	on feonda geweald feor siðian.	would travel far into fiends’ keeping.
	Đa þæt onfunde se þe fela æror	Then he who had harrowed the hearts of men
	modes myrðe manna cynne,	With pain and affliction in former times
810	fyrene gefremede, he fag wið God,	And had given offense also to God
	þæt him se lichoma læstan nolde;	Found that his bodily powers had failed him.
	ac hine se modega mæg Hygelaces	Hygelac’s kinsman kept him helplessly
	hæfde be honda. Wæs gehwæþer oðrum	Locked in a handgrip. As long as either lived
	lifigende lað. Licsar gebad,	He was hateful to the other. The monster’s whole
815	atol æglæca. Him on eaxle wearð	Body was in pain, a tremendous wound
	syndolh sweotol, seonowe onsprungon,	Appeared on his shoulder. Sinews split
	burston banlocan. Beowulfe wearð	And the bone-lappings burst. Beowulf was granted
	guðhreð gyfeþe. Scolde Grendel þonan	The glory of winning; Grendel was driven
	feorhseoc fleon under fenhleoðu,	Under the fen banks, fatally hurt,
820	secean wynleas wic. Wiste þe geornor	To his desolate lair. His days were numbered,
	þæt his aldres wæs ende gegongen,	The end of his life was coming over him,
	dogera dægrim. Denum eallum wearð	He knew it for certain; and one bloody clash
	æfter þam wælræse willa gelumpen.	Had fulfilled the dearest wishes of the Danes.
	Hæfde þa gefælsod, se þe ær feorran com,	The man who had lately landed among them,
825	snotor 7 swyðferhð, sele Hroðgares,	Proud and sure, had purged the hall,
148r	genered wið \| niðe. Nihtweorce gefeh,	Kept it from harm; he was happy with his night-work
	ellenmærþum. Hæfde East-Denum,	And the courage he had shown. The Geat captain
	Geatmecga leod, gilp gelæsted.	Had boldly fulfilled his boast to the Danes:
	Swylce oncyþðe ealle gebette,	He had healed and relieved a huge distress,
830	inwidsorge, þe hie ær drugon,	Unremitting humiliations,
	7 for þreanydum þolian scoldon	The hard fate they’d been forced to undergo,
	torn unlytel. Þæt wæs tacen sweotol,	No small affliction. Clear proof of this
	syþðan hildedeor hond alegde,	Could be seen in the hand the hero displayed
	earm 7 eaxle. Þær wæs eal geador	High up near the roof: the whole of Grendel’s
835	Grendles grape under geapne hrof.	Shoulder and arm, his awesome grasp.
{ 14 } .XIV.
	ĐA wæs on morgen mine gefræge	Then morning came and many a warrior
	ymb þa gifhealle guðrinc monig.	Gathered, as I have heard, around the gift-hall,
	Ferdon folctogan feorran 7 nean	Clan-chiefs flocking from far and near
	geond widwegas wundor sceawian,	Down wide-ranging roads, wondering greatly
840	laþes lastas No his lifgedal	At the monster’s footprint. His fatal departure
	sarlic þuhte secga ænegum	Was regretted by no one who witnessed his trail,
	þara þe tirleases trode sceawode,	The ignominious marks of his flight
	hu he werigmod on weg þanon,	Where he’d sulked away, exhausted in spirit
	niða ofercumen, on nicera mere,	And beaten in battle, bloodying the path,
845	fæge 7 geflymed, feorhlastas bær.	Hauling his doom to the demons’ mere.
	Đær wæs on blode brim weallende,	The bloodshot water wallowed and surged,
	atol yða geswing eal gemenged	There were loathsome up throws and over turnings
148v	haton heolfre; \| heorodreore weol,	Of waves and gore and would-slurry.
	deaðfæge deog. Siððan, dreama leas,	With his death upon him, he had dived deep
850	in fenfreoðo feorh alegde,	Into his marsh den, drowned out his life
	hæþene sawle. Þær him hel onfeng.	And his heathen soul: hell claimed him there.
	Þanon eft gewiton ealdgesiðas,	Then away they rode, the old retainers
	swylce geong manig, of gomenwaþe	With many a young man following after,
	fram mere, modge mearum ridan,	A troop on horseback, in high spirits
855	beornas on blancum. Đær wæs Beowulfes	On their bay steeds. Beowulf’s doings
	mærðo mæned. Monig oft gecwæð	Were praised over and over again.
	þætte suð ne norð be sæm tweonum,	Nowhere, they said, north or south
	ofer eormengrund, oþer nænig	Between the two seas or under the tall sky
	under swegles begong selra nære	On the broad earth was there anyone better
860	rondhæbbendra, rices wyrðra.	To raise a shield or to rule a kingdom.
	Ne hie huru winedrihten wiht ne logon,	Yet there was no laying of blame on their lord,
	glædne Hroðgar, ac þæt wæs god cyning.	The noble Hrothgar; he was a good king.
	Hwilum heaþorofe hleapan leton,	At times the war-band broke into a gallop,
	on geflit faran fealwe mearas,	Letting their chestnut horses race
865	ðær him foldwegas fægere þuhton,	Wherever they found the going good
	cystum cuðe. Hwilum cyninges þegn	On those well-known tracks. Meanwhile, a thane
	guma gilphlæden, gidda gemyndig,	Of the king’s household, a carrier of tales,
	se ðe ealfela ealdgesegena	A traditional singer deeply schooled
	worn gemunde; word oþer fand	In the lore of the past, linked a new theme
870	soðe gebunden. Secg eft ongan	To a strict metre. The man started
149r	sið Beowulfes snyttrum \| styrian,	To recite with skill, rehearsing Beowulf’s
	7 on sped wrecan spel gerade,	Triumphs and feats in well-fashioned lines,
	wordum wrixlan. Welhwylc gecwæð	Entwining his words. He told what he’d heard
	þæt he fram Sigemunde secgan hyrde,	Repeated in songs of Sigemund’s exploits,
875	ellendædum, uncuþes fela	All of those many feats and marvels,
	Wælsinges gewin, wide siðas,	The struggles and wanderings of Wael’s son,
	þara þe gumena bearn gearwe ne wiston,	Things unknown to anyone,
	fæhðe 7 fyrena, buton Fitela mid hine,	Except Fitela, feuds and foul doings
	þonne he swulces hwæt secgan wolde,	Confided from uncle to nephew when he felt
880	eam his nefan, swa hie a wæron	The urge to speak of them: always had they been
	æt niða gehwam nydgesteallan.	Partners in the fight, friends in need.
	Hæfdon ealfela eotena cynnes	They killed giants, their conquering swords
	sweordum gesæged. Sigemunde gesprong	Had brought them down.
	æfter deaðdæge dom unlytel.	After his death
885	Syþðan wiges heard wyrm acwealde,	Sigemund’s glory grew and grew
	hordes hyrde, he under harne stan	Because of his courage when he killed the dragon,
	æþelinges bearn ana geneðde	The guardian of the hoard. Under gray stone
	frecne dæde, ne wæs him Fitela mid.	He had dared to enter all by himself
	Hwæþre him gesælde ðæt þæt swurd þurhwod	To face the worst without Fitela.
890	wrætlicne wyrm, þæt hit on wealle ætstod,	But it came to pass that his sword plunged
	dryhtlic iren. Draca morðre swealt.	Right through those radiant scales
	Hæfde aglæca elne gegongen,	And drove into the wall. The dragon died of it.
	þæt he beahhordes brucan moste	His daring had given him total possession
149v	selfes dome. \| Sæbat gehleod,	Of the treasure hoard, his to dispose of
895	bær on bearm scipes beorhte frætwa,	However he liked. He loaded a boat:
	Wælses eafera Wyrm hat gemealt.	Wael’s son weighted her hold With dazzling spoils. The hot dragon melted.
	Se wæs wreccena wide mærost	Sigemund’s name was known everywhere.
	ofer werþeode, wigendra hleo,	He was utterly valiant and venturesome,
	ellendædum. He þæs ær onðah.	A fence round his fighters and flourished therefore
900	Siððan Heremodes hild sweðrode,	After King Heremond’s prowess declined
	earfoð' 7 ellen. He mid eotenum wearð	And his campaigns slowed down. The king was betrayed,
	on feonda geweald forð forlacen,	Ambushed in Jutland, overpowered
	snude forsended. Hine sorhwylmas	And done away with. The waves of his grief
	lemede to lange. He his leodum wearð,	Had beaten him down, made him a burden,
905	eallum æþellingum, to aldorceare.	A source of anxiety to his own nobles:
	Swylce oft bemearn ærran mælum	That expedition was often condemned
	swiðferhþes sið, snotor ceorl monig,	To those earlier times by experienced men,
	se þe him bealwa to bote gelyfde,	Men who relied on his lordship for redress,
	þæt þæt ðeodnes bearn geþeon scolde,	Who presumed that the part of a prince was to thrive
910	fæderæþelum onfon, folc gehealdan,	On his father’s throne and protect the nation,
	hord 7 hleoburh, hæleþa rice,	The Shielding land where they lived and belonged,
	.eðel. Scyldinga. He þær eallum wearð,	Its holdings and strongholds. Such was Beowulf
	mæg Higelaces, manna cynne,	In the affection of his friends and of everyone alive.
	freondum gefægra. Hine fyren onwod.	But evil entered into Heremod.
915	Hwilum flitende fealwe stræte	Meanwhile, the Dane kept racing their mounts
	mearum mæton. Đa wæs morgenleoht	Down sandy lanes. The light of day
150r	scofen 7 scynded. \| Eode scealc monig	Broke and kept brightening. Bands of retainers
	swiðhicgende to sele þam hean	Galloped in excitement to the gabled hall
	searowundor seon. Swylce self cyning	To see the marvel; and the king himself,
920	of brydbure, beahhorda weard,	Guardian of the ring-hoard, goodness in person,
	tryddode tirfæst getrume micle,	Walked in majesty from the women’s quarters
	cystum gecyþed; 7 his cwen mid him	With a numerous train, attended by his queen
	medostigge mæt mægþa hose.	And her crowd of maidens, across the mead-hall.
{ 15 } .XV.
	Hroðgar maþelode. He to healle geong,	When Hrothgar arrived at the hall, he spoke,
925	stod on stapole, geseah steapne hrof	Standing on the steps, under the steep eaves,
	golde fahne 7 Grendles hond.	Gazing at the roofwork and Grendel’s talon:
	“Đisse ansyne Alwealdan þanc	“First and foremost, let the Almighty Father
	lungre gelimpe. Fela ic laþes gebad,	Be thanked for this sight. I suffered a long
	grynna æt Grendle. A mæg God wyrcan	Harrowing by Grendel. But the Heavenly Shepherd
930	wunder æfter wundre, wuldres Hyrde.	Can work his wonders always and everywhere.
	Đæt wæs ungeara þæt ic ænigra me	Not long since, it seemed I would never
	weana ne wende to widan feore,	Be granted the slightest solace or relief
	bote gebidan, þonne blode fah	From any of my burdens: the best of houses
	husa selest heorodreorig stod,	Glittered and reeked and ran with blood
935	wea widscofen; witena gehwylcne	This one worry outweighed all others —
	ðara þe ne wendon þæt hie wideferhð	A constant distress to counselors entrusted
	leoda landgeweorc laþum beweredon,	With defending the people’s forts from assault
150v	\| scuccum 7 scinnum. Nu scealc hafað	By monsters and demons. But now a man,
	þurh Drihtnes miht dæd gefremede,	With the Lord’s assistance, has accomplished something
940	ðe we ealle ær ne meahton	None of us could manage before now
	snyttrum besyrwan. Hwæt! þæt secgan mæg,	For all our efforts. Whoever she was
	efne swa hwylc mægþa. swa ðone magan cende,	Who brought forth this flower of manhood,
	æfter gumcynnum, gyf heo gyt lyfað,	If she is still alive, that woman can say
	þæt hyre Ealdmetod este wære	That in her labor the Lord of Ages
945	bearngebyrdo. Nu ic Beowulf, þec,	Bestowed a grace on her. So now, Beowulf,
	secg betsta, me for sunu wylle	I adopt you in my heart as a dear son.
	freogan on ferhþe. Heald forð tela	Nourish and maintain this new connection,
	niwe sibbe. Ne bið þe ænigre gad	You noblest of men; there’ll be nothing you want for,
	worolde wilna, þe ic geweald hæbbe.	No worldly good that won’t be yours.
950	Ful oft ic for læssan lean teohhode,	I have often honored smaller achievements,
	hordweorþunge hnahran rince,	Recognized warriors not nearly as worthy,
	sæmran æt sæcce. Þu þe self hafast	Lavished rewards on the less deserving.
	dædum gefremed, þæt þin dæd lyfað	But you have made yourself immortal
	awa to aldre. Alwalda þec	By your glorious action. May the Lord of Ages
955	gode forgylde, swa he nu gyt dyde.”	Continue to keep and requite you well.”
	Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecþeowes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
	“We þæt ellenweorc estum miclum,	“We have gone through a glorious endeavor
	feohtan fremedon, frecne geneðdon	And been much favored in this fight we dared
	eafoð uncuþes. Uþe ic swiþor	Against the unknown. Nevertheless,
960	þæt ðu hine selfne geseon moste,	If you could have seen the monster himself
	feond on frætewum fylwerigne.	Where he lay beaten, I would have been better pleased.
151r	Ic him hrædlice \| heardan clammum	My plan was to pounce, pin him down
	on wælbedde wriþan þohte,	In a tight grip and grapple him to death —
	þæt he for handgripe minum scolde	Have him panting for life, powerless and clasped
965	licgean lifbysig, butan his lic swice.	In my bare hands, his body in thrall
	Ic hine ne mihte, þa Metod nolde,	But I couldn’t stop him from slipping my hold.
	ganges getwæman: no ic him þæs georne ætfealh,	The Lord allowed it, my lock on him
	feorhgeniðlan. Wæs to foremihtig,	Wasn’t strong enough, he struggled fiercely
	feond on feþe. Hwæþere, he his folme forlet	And broke and ran. Yet he bought his freedom
970	to lifwraþe last weardian,	At a high price, for he left his hand
	earm 7 eaxle. No þær ænige swa þeah	And arm and shoulder to show he had been here,
	feasceaft guma, frofre gebohte.	A cold comfort for having come among us.
	No þy leng leofað laðgeteona	And now he won’t be long for this world.
	synnum geswenced, ac hyne sar hafað	He has done his worst but the wound will end him.
975	in niðgripe, nearwe befongen	He is hasped and hooped and hirpling with pain,
	balwon bendum. Đær abidan sceal,	Limped and looped in it. Like a man outlawed
	maga mane fah, miclan domes,	For wickedness, he must await
	hu him scir Metod scrifan wille.”	The mighty judgment of God in majesty.”
	Đa wæs swigra secg, sunu Eclafes,	There was less tampering and big talk then
980	on gylpspræce guðgeweorca,	From Unferth the boaster, less of his blather
	siþðan æþelingas eorles cræfte	As the hall-thanes eyed the awful proof
	ofer heanne hrof hand sceawedon,	Of the hero’s prowess, the splayed hand
	feondes fingras. Foran æghwylc wæs	Up under the eaves. Every nail,
	steda nægla gehwylc, style gelicost,	Claw-scale and spur, every spike
151v	hæþenes handsporu, hilde\|rinces	And welt on the hand of that heathen brute
	egl unheoru. Æghwylc gecwæð	Was like barbed steel. Everybody said
	þæt him heardra nan hrinan wolde,	There was no honed iron hard enough
	iren ærgod, þæt ðæs ahlæcan	To pierce him through, no time-proofed blade
	blodge beadufolme onberan wolde.	That could cut his brutal, blood-caked claw.
{ 16 } .XVI.
990	ĐA wæs haten hreþe Heort innanweard	Then the order was given for all hands
	folmum gefrætwod. Fela þæra wæs	To help refurbish Heorot immediately:
	wera 7 wifa, þe þæt winreced,	Men and women thronging the wine-hall,
	gestsele gyredon. Goldfag scinon,	Getting it ready. Gold thread shone
	web æfter wagum, wundorsiona fela	In the wall-hangings, woven scenes
995	secga gehwylcum, þara þe on swylc starað.	That attracted and held the eye’s attention.
	Wæs þæt beorhte bold tobrocen swiðe	But iron-braced as the inside of it had been,
	eal inneweard irenbendum fæst,	The bright room lay in ruins now.
	heorras tohlidene. Hrof ana genæs	The very doors had been dragged from their hinges.
	ealles ansund, þe se aglæca	Only the roof remained unscathed
1000	fyrendædum fag on fleam gewand,	By the time the guilt-fouled fiend turned tail
	aldres orwena. No þæt yðe byð	In despair of his life. But death is not easily
	to befleonne, fremme se þe wille;	Escaped from by anyone:
	ac gesacan sceal, sawlberendra,	All of us with souls, earth-dwellers
	nyde genydde, niþða bearna,	And children of men, must make our way
1005	grundbuendra gearwe stowe,	To a destination already ordained
	þær his lichoma, legerbedde fæst,	Where the body, after the banqueting,
	swefeþ æfter symle. Þa wæs sæl 7 mæl	Sleeps on its deathbed. Then the due time arrived
152r	þæt to healle \| gang Healfdenes sunu.	For Halfdane’s son to proceed to the hall.
	Wolde self cyning symbel þicgan.	The king himself would sit down to feast.
1010	Ne gefrægen ic þa mægþe maran weorode	No group ever gathered in greater numbers
	ymb hyra sincgyfan sel gebæran.	Or better order around their ring-giver.
	Bugon þa to bence blædagande,	The benches filled with famous men
	fylle gefægon. Fægere geþægon	Who fell to with relish; round upon round
	medoful manig, magas þara	Of mead was passed; those powerful kinsmen,
1015	swiðhicgende on sele þam hean,	Hrothgar and Hrothulf, were in high spirits
	Hroðgar 7 Hroþulf. Heorot innan wæs	In the raftered hall. Inside Heorot
	freondum afylled. Nalles facenstafas	There was nothing but friendship. The Shielding nation
	Þeod-Scyldingas þenden fremedon.	Was not yet familiar with feud and betrayal.
	Forgeaf þa Beowulfe brand Healfdenes;	Then Halfdane’s son presented Beowulf
1020	segen gyldenne sigores to leane,	With gold standards as a victory gift,
	hroden hiltecumbor, helm, 7 byrnan.	An embroidered banner; also breast-mail
	Mære maðþumsweord manige gesawon	And a helmet; and a sword carried high,
	beforan beorn beran. Beowulf geþah	That was both precious object and a token of honor.
	ful on flette. No he þære feohgyfte	So Beowulf drank his drink, at ease;
1025	for scotenum scamigan ðorfte.	It was hardly a shame to be showered with such gifts
	Ne gefrægn ic freondlicor feower madmas	In front of the hall-troops. There haven’t been many
	golde gegyrede gummanna fela	Moments, I am sure, when men have exchanged
	in ealobence oðrum gesellan.	Four such treasures at so friendly a sitting.
	Ymb þæs helmes hrof, heafodbeorge,	An embossed ring, a band lapped with wire
1030	wirum bewunden, walan utan heold,	Arched over the helmet: head-protection
152v	þæt him fela \| laf frecne ne meahton,	To keep the keen-ground cutting edge
	scurheard, sceþðan, þonne scyldfreca	From damaging it when danger threatened
	ongean gramum gangan scolde.	And the man was battling behind his shield.
	Heht ða eorla hleo eahta mearas,	Next the king ordered eight horses
1035	fætedhleore, on flet teon	With gold bridles to be brought through the yard
	in under eoderas. Þara anum stod	Into the hall. The harness of one
	sadol searwum fah, since gewurþad.	Included a saddle of sumptuous design,
	Þæt wæs hildesetl heahcyninges,	The battle-seat where the son of Halfdane
	ðonne sweorda gelac sunu Healfdenes	Rode when he wished to join the sword-play:
1040	efnan wolde. Næfre on ore læg	Wherever the killing and carnage were the worst,
	widcuþes wig, ðonne walu feollon.	He would be to the fore, fighting hard.
	7 ða Beowulfe bega gehwæþres	The Danish prince, descendent of Ing,
	eodor Ingwina onweald geteah,	Handed over both the arms and the horses,
	wicga 7 wæpna. Het hine wel brucan.	Urging Beowulf to use them well.
1045	Swa manlice mære þeoden	And so their leader, the lord and guard
	hordweard hæleþa, heaþoræsas geald	Of coffer and strong room, with customary grace
	mearum 7 madmum. Swa hy næfre man lyhð,	Bestowed upon Beowulf both sets of gifts.
	se þe secgan wile soð æfter rihte.	A fair witness can see how well each one behaved.
{ 17 } .XVII.
	ĐA gyt æghwylcum eorla drihten	The chieftain went on to reward the others:
1050	þara þe mid Beowulfe brimleade teah,	Each man on the bench who had sailed with Beowulf
	on þære medubence maþðum gesealde,	And risked the voyage received a bounty,
153r	yr\|felafe, 7 þone ænne heht	Some treasured possession. And compensation,
	golde forgyldan, þone ðe Grendel ær	A price in gold, was settled for the Geat
	mane acwealde. Swa he hyra ma wolde,	Grendel had killed cruelly earlier —
1055	nefne him witig God wyrd forstode,	As he would have killed more, had not mindful God
	7 ðæs mannes mod. Metod eallum weold	And one man’s daring prevented that doom.
	gumena cynnes, swa he nu git deð.	Past and present, God’s will prevails
	Forþan bið andgit æghwær selest,	Hence, understanding is always best
	ferhðes foreþanc. Fela sceal gebidan	And a prudent mind. Whoever remains
1060	leofes 7 laþes se þe longe her	For long here in this earthly life
	on ðyssum windagum worolde bruceð.	Will enjoy and endure more than enough.
	Þær wæs sang 7 sweg samod ætgædere	They sang then and played to please the hero,
	fore Healfdenes hildewisan;	Words and music for their warrior prince,
	gomenwudu greted, gid oft wrecen.	Harp tunes and tales of adventure:
1065	Đonne healgamen Hroþgares scop	There were high times on the hall benches
	æfter medobence mænan scolde,	And the king’s poet performed his part
	Finnes eaferum, ða hie se fær begeat:	With the saga of Finn and his sons, unfolding
	Hæleð Healfdena, Hnæf Scyldinga,	The tale of the fierce attack in Friesland
	in Freswæle feallan scolde.	Where Hnaef, king of the Danes, met death.
1070	Ne huru Hildeburh herian þorfte	Hildeburh Had little cause
	eotena treowe. Unsynnum wearð	To credit the Jutes: Son and brother,
	beloren leofum æt þam hildplegan,	She lost them both On the battlefield.
	bearnum 7 broðrum. Hie on gebyrd hruron,	She, bereft And blameless, they
153v	gare \| wunde. Þæt wæs geomuru ides.	Foredoomed, cut down And spear-gored. She,
1075	Nalles holinga Hoces dohtor	The woman in shock, Waylaid by grief,
	meotodsceaft bemearn, syþðan morgen com.	Hoc’s daughter — How could she not
	Đa heo under swegle geseon meahte	Lament her fate When morning came
	morþorbealo maga. Þær he ær mæste heold	And the light broke On her murdered dears?
	worolde wynne, wig ealle fornam	And so farewell Delight on earth,
1080	Finnes þegnas, nemne feaum anum,	War carried away Finn’s troop of thanes,
	þæt he ne mehte on þæm meðelstede	All but a few. How then could Finn
	wig Hengeste wiht gefeohtan,	Hold the line Or fight on
	ne þa wealafe wige forþringan	To the end with Hengest, How save
	þeodnes ðegne. Ac hig him geþingo budon,	The rump of his force From that enemy chief?
1085	þæt hie him oðer flet eal gerymdon,	So a truce was offered As follows: first
	healle 7 heahsetl, þæt hie healfre geweald	Separate quarters To be cleared for the Danes,
	wið eotena bearn agan moston.	Hall and throne To be shared with the Frisians.
	7 æt feohgyftum Folcwaldan sunu	Then, second ; Every day
	dogra gehwylce Dene weorþode,	At the dole-out of gifts Finn, son of Focwald,
1090	Hengestes heap hringum wenede,	Should honor the Danes, Bestow with an even
	efne swa swiðe sincgestreonum	Hand to Hengest And Hengest’s men
	fættan goldes swa he Fresena cyn	The wrought-gold rings, Bounty to match
	on beorsele byldan wolde.	The measure he gave His own Frisians —
	Đa hie getruwedon on twa healfa	To keep morale In the beer-hall high.
1095	fæste frioðuwære. Fin Hengeste	Both sides then Sealed their agreement.
154r	elne unflitme aðum \| benemde	With oaths to Hengest Finn swore
	þæt he þa wealafe weotena dome	Openly, solemnly, That the battle survivors
	arum heolde, þæt ðær ænig mon	Would be guaranteed Honor and status.
	wordum ne worcum wære ne bræce,	No infringement By word or deed,
1100	ne þurh inwitsearo æfre gemænden,	No provocation Would be permitted.
	ðeah hie hira beaggyfan banan folgedon,	Their own ring-giver After all
	ðeodenlease, þa him swa geþearfod wæs.	Was dead and gone, They were leaderless
	Gyf þonne Frysna hwylc frecnen spræce	In forced allegiance To his murderer.
	ðæs morþorhetes myndgiend wære,	So if any Frisian Stirred up bad blood
1105	þonne hit sweordes ecg syððan scolde.	With insinuations Or taunts about this
	Að wæs geæfned, 7 icge, gold,	The blade of the sword Will arbitrate it.
	ahæfen of horde. Here-Scyldinga	A funeral pyre Was then prepared,
	betst beadorinca wæs on bæl gearu.	Effulgent gold Brought out from the hoard.
	Æt þæm ade wæs eþgesyne	The pride and prince Of the Shieldings lay
1110	swatfah syrce, swyn ealgylden,	Awaiting the flame. Everywhere
	eofer irenheard, æþeling manig	There were blood-plastered Coats of mail.
	wundum awyrded. Sume on wæle crungon.	The pyre was heaped With boar-shaped helmets
	Het ða Hildeburh æt Hnæfes ade	Forged in gold, With the gashed corpses
	hire selfre sunu sweoloðe befæstan,	Of well-born Danes — Many had fallen.
1115	banfatu bærnan, 7 on bæl don.	Then Hildeburh Ordered her own
	Earme on eaxle, ides gnornode,	Son’s body Be burnt with Hnaef’s,
	geomrode giddum. Guðrinc astah,	The flesh on his bones To sputter and blaze
154v	wand \| to wolcnum. Wælfyra mæst	Beside his uncle’s. The woman wailed
	hlynode for hlawe. Hafelan multon,	And sang keens, The warrior went up.
1120	bengeato burston, ðonne blod ætspranc,	Carcass flame Swirled and fumed,
	laðbite lices. Lig ealle forswealg,	They stood round the burial Mound and howled
	gæsta gifrost, þara ðe þær guð fornam	As heads melted, Crusted gashes
	bega folces. Wæs hira blæd scacen.	Spattered and ran Bloody matter.
{ 18 } .XVIII.
	GEwiton him ða wigend wica neosian,	The glutton element Flamed and consumed
1125	freondum befeallen, Frysland geseon,	The dead of both sides. Their great days were gone.
	hamas 7 heaburh. Hengest ða gyt	Warriors scattered To homes and forts
	wælfagne winter wunode mid Finne	All over Friesland, Fewer now, feeling
	eal unhlitine. Eard gemunde,	Loss of friends. Hengest stayed,
	þeah þe he meahte on mere drifan	Lived out that whole Resentful, blood-sullen
1130	hringedstefnan. Holm storme weol,	Winter with Finn, Homesick and helpless.
	won wið winde; winter yþe beleac	No ring-whorled prow Could up then
	isgebinde, oþ ðæt oþer com,	And away on the sea. Wind and water
	gear in geardas, swa nu gyt deð,	Raged with storms, Wave and shingle
	þa ðe syngales sele bewitiað,	Were shackled on ice Until another year
1135	wuldortorhtan weder. Đa wæs winter scacen,	Appeared in the yard As it does to this day,
	fæger foldan bearm. Fundode wrecca,	The seasons constant, The wonder of light
	gist of geardum. He to gyrnwræce	Coming over us. Then winter was gone,
155r	swiðor \| þohte þonne to sælade,	Earth’s lap grew lovely, Longing woke
	gif he torngemot þurhteon mihte,	In the cooped-up exile For a voyage home —
1140	þæt he eotena bearn inne gemunde.	But more for vengeance, Some way of bringing
	Swa he ne forwyrnde woroldrædenne,	Things to a head: His sword arm hankered
	þonne him Hunlafing, hildeleoman,	To greet the Jutes. So he did not balk
	billa selest on bearm dyde.	Once Hunlafing Placed on his lap
	Þæs wæron mid eotenum ecge cuðe.	Dazzle-the-Duel, The best sword of all,
1145	Swylce ferhðfrecan Fin eft begeat	Whose edges Jutes Knew only too well.
	sweordbealo sliðen æt his selfes ham.	Thus blood was spilled, The gallant Finn
	Siþðan grimne gripe Guðlaf ond Oslaf,	Slain in his home After Guthlaf and Oslaf
	æfter sæsiðe, sorge mændon,	Back from their voyage Made old accusation:
	ætwiton weana dæl. Ne meahte wæfre mod	The brutal ambush, The fate they had suffered,
1150	forhabban in hreþre. Đa wæs heal hroden	All blamed on Finn. The wildness in them
	feonda feorum, swilce Fin slægen,	Had to brim over. The hall ran red
	cyning on corþre, 7 seo cwen numen.	With blood of enemies. Finn was cut down,
	Sceotend Scyldinga to scypon feredon	The queen brought away And everything
	eal ingesteald eorðcyninges,	The Shieldings could find Inside Finn’s walls —
1155	swylce hie æt Finnes ham findan meahton	The Frisian king’s Gold collars and gemstones —
	sigla searogimma. Hie on sælade	Swept off to the ship. Over sea-lanes then
	drihtlice wif to Denum feredon,	Back to Daneland The warrior troop
155v	læddon \|to leodum. Leoð wæs asungen,	Bore that lady home. The poem was over,
	gleomannes gyd. Gamen eft astah,	The poet had performed, a pleasant murmur
1160	beorhtode bencsweg; byrelas sealdon	Started on the benches, stewards did the rounds
	win of wunderfatum. Þa cwom Wealhþeo forð,	With wine in splendid jugs, and Wilhtheow came to sit
	gan under gyldnum beage þær þa godan,	In her gold crown between two good men,
	twegen sæton, suhtergefæderan.	Uncle and nephew, each of whom
	Þa gyt wæs hiera sib ætgædere æghwylc	Still trusted the other; and the forthright Unferth,
1165	oðrum trywe. Swylce þær Hunferþ þyle	Admired by all for his mind and courage
	æt fotum sæt frean Scyldinga.	Reclined near the king
	Gehwylc hiora his ferhþe treowde	Men had faith in his spirit,
	þæt he hæfde mod micel, þeah þe he his magum	His keenness of courage, though to his own kinsmen
	nære arfæst æt ecga gelacum.	He was unmerciful in sword-play.
1170	Spræc ða ides Scyldinga:	The queen of the Shieldings spoke:
	“Onfoh þissum fulle, freodrihten min,	“Enjoy this drink, my most generous lord;
	sinces brytta. Þu on sælum wes,	Raise up your goblet, entertain the Geats
	goldwine gumena, 7 to Geatum spræc	Duly and gently, discourse with them,
	mildum wordum, swa sceal man don.	Be open-handed, happy and fond.
1175	Beo wið Geatas glæd, geofena gemyndig;	Relish their company, but recollect as well
	nean 7 feorran þu nu hafast.	All of the boons that have been bestowed upon you.
156r	Me man sægde. þæt \| þu ðe for sunu wolde	And now the word is that you want to adopt This warrior as a son.
	hererican habban. Heorot is gefælsod,	The hall of Heorot has been cleansed,
	beahsele beorhta. Bruc, þenden þu mote,	This great bright court. So, while you may,
1180	manigra medo, 7 þinum magum læf	Bask in your fortune, then bequeath
	folc 7 rice, þonne ðu forð scyle	Kingdom and nation to your kith and kin,
	metodsceaft seon. Ic minne can	Before your decease. I am certain of Hrothulf.
	glædne Hroþulf, þæt he þa geogoðe wile	He is noble and will use the young ones well.
	arum healdan, gyf þu ær þonne he,	He will not let you down. Should you die before him,
1185	wine Scildinga, worold oflætest.	He will treat our children truly and fairly.
	Wene ic þæt he mid gode gyldan wille	He will honor, I am sure, our two sons,
	uncran eaferan, gif he þæt eal gemon,	Repay them in kind when he recollects
	hwæt wit to willan 7 to worðmyndum	All the good things we gave him once,
	umborwesendum ær arna gefremedon.”	The favor and respect he found in childhood.”
1190	Hwearf þa bi bence, þær hyre byre wæron,	She turned then to the bench where her boys sat,
	Hreðric 7 Hroðmund, 7 hæleþa bearn	Hrethric and Hrothmond, with other nobles’ sons,
	giogoð ætgædere. Þær se goda sæt	All the youth together; and that good man,
	Beowulf Geata be þæm gebroðrum twæm.	Beowulf the Geat, sat between the brothers.
{ 19 } .XIX.
	HIm wæs ful boren, 7 freondlaþu	The cup was carried to him, kind words
1195	wordum bewægned 7 wundengold	Spoken in welcome and wealth of wrought gold
	estum geeawed, earmreade twa,	Graciously bestowed; two arm bangles,
156v	hrægl 7 hrin\|gas, healsbeaga mæst	A mail shirt and rings, and the most resplendent
	þara þe ic on foldan gefrægen hæbbe.	Torque of gold I have ever heard tell of
	Nænigne ic under swegle selran hyrde	Anywhere on earth or under heaven.
1200	hordmadmum hæleþa, syþðan Hama ætwæg	There was no hoard like it since Hama snatched
	to herebyrhtan byrig Brosinga mene,	The Brosings’ neck-chain and bore it away
	sigle 7 sincfæt. Searoniðas fealh	With its gems and settings to his shinning fort,
	Eormenrices, geceas ecne ræd.	Away from Eormenric’s wiles and hatred,
	Þone hring hæfde, Higelac Geata,	And thereby ensured his eternal reward. Hygelac the Geat,
1205	nefa Swertinges, nyhstan siðe,	grandson of Swerting,
	siðþan he under segne sinc ealgode,	Wore this neck-ring on his last raid;
	wælreaf werede. Hyne wyrd fornam,	At bay under his banner, he defended the booty,
	syþðan he for wlenco wean ahsode,	Treasure he had won. Fate swept him away because of his proud need to provoke
	fæhðe to Frysum. He þa frætwe wæg,	A feud with the Frisians.
1210	eorclanstanas ofer yða ful,	The same precious stones he had worn when he crossed the frothing wave-vat,
	rice þeoden. He under rande gecranc.	A powerful king. He fell beneath his shield,
	Gehwearf þa in Francna fæþm feorh cyninges	So the dead king fell into Frankish hands.
	breostgewædu 7 se beah somod.	They took his breast-mail, also his neck-torque,
	Wyrsan wigfrecan wæl reafeden	And punier warriors plundered the slain
1215	æfter guðsceare. Geata leode	When the carnage ended; Geat corpses
	hreawic heoldon. Heal swege onfeng.	Covered the field. Applause filled the hall.
	Wealhðeo maþelode. Heo fore þæm werede spræc:	Then Wealhtheow pronounced in the presence of the company:
	“Bruc ðisses beages, Beowulf leofa,	“Take delight in this torque, dear Beowulf,
157r	hyse mid hæle, \|7 þisses hrægles neot;	Wear it for luck and also wear this mail
1220	þeo gestreona, 7 geþeoh tela,	From our people’s armory: may you prosper in them!
	cen þec mid cræfte, 7 þyssum cnyhtum wes	Be acclaimed for strength, for kindly guidance
	lara liðe. Ic þe þæs lean geman.	To these two boys, and your bounty will be sure.
	Hafast þu gefered þæt ðe feor 7 neah	You have won renown: you are known to all men
	ealne wideferhþ weras ehtigað,	Far and near, now and forever.
1225	efne swa side swa sæ bebugeð	Your sway is wide and the wind’s home,
	windgeard, weallas. Wes þenden þu lifige,	As the sea around cliffs. So, my prince,
	æþeling, eadig. Ic þe an tela	I wish you a lifetime’s luck and blessings
	sincgestreona. Beo þu suna minum	To enjoy this treasure. Treat my sons
	dædum gedefe, dreamhealdende!	With tender care, be strong and kind.
1230	Her is æghwylc eorl oþrum getrywe,	Here each comrade is true to the other,
	modes milde, mandrihtne hleo;	Loyal to lord, loving in spirit.
	þegnas syndon geþwære, þeod ealgearo,	The thanes have one purpose, the people are ready:
	druncne dryhtguman. Doð swa ic bidde.”	Having drunk and pledged, the ranks do as I bid.”
	Eode þa to setle. Þær wæs symbla cyst,	She moved then to her place. Men were drinking wine
1235	druncon win weras. Wyrd ne cuþon,	At that rare feast; how could they know fate,
	geosceaft grimne, swa hit agangen wearð	The grim shape of things to come,
	eorla manegum, syþðan æfen cwom.	The threat looming over many thanes
	7 him Hroþgar gewat to hofe sinum,	As night approached and king Hrothgar prepared
	rice to ræste. Reced weardode	To retire to his quarters? Retainers in great numbers
1240	unrim eorla, swa hie oft ær dydon.	Were posted on guard as so often in the past.
	Bencþelu beredon. Hit geondbræded wearð	Benches were pushed back, bedding gear and bolsters
	beddum 7 bolstrum. Beorscealca sum	Spread across the floor, and one man
157v	fus 7 fæge fletræste ge\|beag.	Lay down to his rest, already marked for death.
	Setton him to heafdon hilderandas,	At their heads they placed their polished timber
1245	bordwudu beorhtan. Þær on bence wæs	Battle-shields; and on the bench above them,
	ofer æþelinge yþgesene	Each man’s kit was kept to hand:
	heaþosteapa helm, hringed byrne,	A towering war-helmet, webbed mail-shirt
	þrecwudu þrymlic. Wæs þeaw hyra	And great-shafted spear. It was their habit
	þæt hie oft wæron an wig gearwe	Always and everywhere to be ready for action,
1250	ge æt ham ge on herge, ge gehwæþer þara,	At home or in the camp, in whatever case
	efne swylce mæla swylce hira mandryhtne	And at whatever time the need arose
	þearf gesælde. Wæs seo þeod tilu.	To rally round their lord. They were a right people.
{ 20 } .XX.
	Sigon þa to slæpe. Sum sare angeald	They went to sleep. And one paid dearly
	æfenræste, swa him ful oft gelamp,	For his night’s ease, as had happened to them often,
1255	siþðan goldsele Grendel warode,	Ever since Grendel occupied the gold-hall,
	unriht æfnde oþ þæt ende becwom,	Committing evil until the end came,
	swylt æfter synnum. Þæt gesyne wearþ,	Death after his crimes. Then it became clear,
	widcuþ werum, þætte wrecend þa gyt	Obvious to everyone once the fight was over,
	lifde æfter laþum lange þrage	That an avenger lurked and was still alive,
1260	æfter guðceare. Grendles modor,	Grimly biding time. Grendel’s mother,
	ides aglæcwif yrmþe gemunde,	Monstrous hell-bride, brooded on her wrongs.
	se þe wæteregesan wunian scolde,	She had been forced down into fearful waters,
	cealde streamas, siþðan camp wearð	The cold depths, after Cain had killed
	to ecgbanan angan breþer,	His father’s son, felled his own
1265	fæderenmæge. He þa fag gewat,	Brother with the sword. Banished an outlaw,
158r	morþre gemearcod, \| mandream fleon,	Marked by having murdered, he moved into the wilds,
	westen warode. Þanon woc fela	Shunning company and joy. And from Cain there sprang
	geosceaftgasta. Wæs þæra Grendel sum,	Misbegotten spirits, among them Grendel,
	heorowearh hetelic, se æt Heorote fand	The banished and accursed, due to come to grips
1270	wæccendne wer wiges bidan.	With that watcher in Heorot waiting to do battle.
	Þær him aglæca ætgræpe wearð.	The monster wrenched and wrestled with him
	Hwæþre he gemunde mægenes strenge,	But Beowulf was mindful of his mighty strength,
	gimfæste gife, ðe him God sealde,	The wondrous gifts God had showered on him:
	7 him to Anwaldan are gelyfde,	He relied for help on the Lord of All,
1275	frofre 7 fultum. Đy he þone feond ofercwom,	On His care and favor. So he overcame the foe,
	gehnægde helle gast. Þa he hean gewat,	Brought down the hell-brute. Broken and bowed,
	dreame bedæled, deaþwic seon,	Outcast from all sweetness, the enemy of mankind
	mancynnes feond. 7 his modor þa gyt,	Made for his death-den. But now his mother
	gifre 7 galgmod gegan wolde	Had sallied forth on a savage journey,
1280	sorhfulne sið sunu þeod wrecan.	Grief-racked and ravenous, desperate for revenge.
	Com þa to Heorote, ðær Hring-Dene	She came to Heorot. There, inside the hall,
	geond þæt sæld swæfun. Þa ðær sona wearð	Danes lay asleep, earls who would soon endure
	edhwyrft eorlum, siþðan inne fealh	A great reversal once Grendel’s mother
	Grendles modor. Wæs se gryre læssa	Attacked and entered. Her onslaught was less
1285	efne swa micle, swa bið mægþa cræft	Only by as much as an Amazon warrior’s
	wiggryre wifes, bewæpned men,	Is less than an armored man’s
	þonne heoru bunden, hamere geþuren,	When the hefted sword, its hammered edge
	sweord swate fah swin ofer helme	And gleaming blade slathered in blood,
158v	ecgum \| dyhttig andweard scireð.	Razes the sturdy boar-ridge off a helmet.
1290	Þa wæs on healle heardecg togen	Then in the hall, hard-honed swords
	sweord ofer setlum, sidrand manig	Were grabbed from the bench, many a broad shield
	hafen handa fæst. Helm ne gemunde,	Lifted and braced; there was little thought of helmets
	byrnan side, þa hine se broga angeat.	Or woven mail when they woke in terror.
	Heo wæs on ofste, wolde ut þanon,	The hell-dam was in panic, desperate to get out,
1295	feore beorgan, þa heo onfunden wæs.	In mortal terror the moment she was found.
	Hraðe heo æþelinga anne hæfde	She had pounced and taken one of the retainers
	fæste befangen, þa heo to fenne gang.	In a tight hold, then headed for the fen
	Se wæs Hroþgare hæleþa leofost	To Hrothgar, this man was the most beloved
	on gesiðes had be sæm tweonum,	Of the friends he trusted between the two seas.
1300	rice randwiga, þone ðe heo on ræste abreat,	She had done away with a great warrior,
	blædfæstne beorn. Næs Beowulf ðær,	Ambushed him at rest. Beowulf was elsewhere.
	ac wæs oþer in ær geteohhod	Earlier, after the reward of the treasure,
	æfter maþðumgife mærum Geate.	The Geat had been given another lodging.
	Hream wearð in Heorote. Heo under heolfre genam	There was an uproar in Heorot. She had snatched their trophy,
1305	cuþe folme. Cearu wæs geniwod,	Grendel’s bloodied hand. It was a fresh blow
	geworden in wicun. Ne wæs þæt gewrixle til	To the afflicted building. The bargain was hard,
	þæt hie on ba healfa bicgan scoldon	Both parties having to pay
	freonda feorum. Þa wæs frod cyning,	With the lives of friends. And the old lord,
159r	har hilderinc, on hreon \|mode,	The gray-haired warrior, was heartsore and weary
1310	syðþan he aldorþegn unlyfigendne,	When he heard the news: his highest-placed advisor,
	þone deorestan, deadne wisse.	His dearest companion, was dead and gone.
	Hraþe wæs to bure Beowulf fetod	Beowulf was quickly brought to the chamber:
	sigoreadig secg. Samod ærdæge	The winner of fights, the arch-warrior,
	eode eorla sum, æþele cempa	Came first-footing in with his fellow troops
1315	self mid gesiðum þær se snotera bad.	To where the king in his wisdom waited,
	Hwæþre him Alwalda æfre wille	Still wondering whether Almighty God
	æfter weaspelle wyrpe gefremman.	Would even turn the tide of his misfortunes.
	Gang ða æfter flore fyrdwyrðe man	So Beowulf entered with his band in attendance
	mid his handscale, healwudu dynede,	And the wooden floor-boards banged and rang
1320	þæt he þone wisan wordum hnægde	As he advanced, hurrying to address
	frean Ingwina; frægn gif him wære	The prince of the Ingwins, asking if he’d rested
	æfter neodlaðu niht getæse.	Since the urgent summons had come as a surprise.
{ 21 } .XXI.
	Hroðgar maþelode, helm Scyldinga:	Then Hrothgar, the Shieldings’ helmet, spoke:
	“Ne frin þu æfter sælum. Sorh is geniwod	“Rest? What is rest? Sorrow has returned.
1325	Denigea leodum. Dead is Æschere,	Alas for the Danes! Æschere is dead.
	Yrmenlafes yldra broþor,	He was Yrmenlaf’s elder brother
	min runwita 7 min rædbora,	And a soul mate to me, a true mentor,
	eaxlgestealla, ðonne we on orlege	My right-hand man when the ranks clashed
	hafelan weredon, þonne hniton feþan,	And our boar-crests had to take a battering
159v	eoferas cnysedan \|Swylc eorl scolde	In the line of action. Æschere was everything
	wesan ærgod, swylc Æschere wæs!	The world admires in a wise man and a friend.
	Wearð him on Heorote to handbanan	Then this roaming killer came in a fury
	wælgæst wæfre. Ic ne wat hwæþer	And slaughtered him in Heorot. Where she is hiding,
	atol æse wlanc eftsiðas teah,	Glutting on the corpse and glorying in her escape,
1335	fylle gefrægnod. Heo þa fæhðe wræc	I cannot tell; she has taken up the feud
	þe þu gystran niht Grendel cwealdest	Because of last night, when you killed Grendel,
	þurh hæstne had heardum clammum,	Wrestled and racked him in ruinous combat
	forþan he to lange leode mine	Since for too long he had terrorized us
	wanode 7 wyrde. He æt wige gecrang,	With his depredations. He died in battle,
1340	ealdres scyldig. 7 nu oþer cwom,	Paid with his life; and now this powerful
	mihtig manscaða, wolde hyre mæg wrecan,	Other one arrives, this force for evil
	ge feor hafað fæhðe gestæled,	Driven to avenge her kinsman’s death.
	þæs þe þincean mæg þegne monegum,	Or so it seems to thanes in their grief,
	se þe æfter sincgyfan on sefan greoteþ.	In the anguish every thane endures
1345	Hreþerbealo hearde! Nu seo hand ligeð,	At the loss of a ring-giver, now that the hand
	se þe eow welhwylcra wilna dohte.	That bestowed so richly has been stilled in death.
	Ic þæt londbuend, leode mine,	“I have heard it said by my people in hall,
	selerædende secgan hyrde	Counselors who live in the upland country,
	þæt hie gesawon swylce twegen	That they have seen two such creatures
1350	micle mearcstapan moras healdan,	Prowling the moors, huge marauders
	ellorgæstas. Đæra oðer wæs,	From some other world. One of these things,
	þæs þe hie gewislicost gewitan meahton,	As far as anyone ever can discern,
	idese onlicnæs. Oðer earmsceapen	Looks like a woman; the other, warped
160r	on weres wæstmum wræclastas \| træd,	In the shape of a man, moves beyond the pale
1355	næfne he wæs mara þonne ænig man oðer.	Bigger than any man, an unnatural birth
	Þone on geardagum Grendel nemdon.	Called Grendel by country people
	Foldbuende no hie fæder cunnon,	In former days. They are fatherless creatures,
	hwæþer him ænig wæs ær acenned	And their whole ancestry is hidden in a past
	dyrnra gasta. Hie dygel lond	Of demons and ghosts. They dwell apart
1360	warigeað, wulfhleoþu, windige næssas,	Among wolves on hills, on windswept crags
	frecne fengelad, ðær fyrgenstream	And treacherous fen-paths, where cold streams
	under næssa genipu niþer gewiteð,	Pour down the mountain and disappear
	flod under foldan. Nis þæt feor heonon	Under mist and moorland. A few miles from here
	milgemearces, þæt se mere standeð.	A frost-stiffened wood waits and keeps watch
1365	Ofer þæm hongiað hrinde bearwas,	Above a mere; the overhanging bank
	wudu wyrtum fæst wæter oferhelmað.	Is a maze of tree roots mirrored in its surface.
	Þær mæg nihta gehwæm niðwundor seon,	At night there, something uncanny happens:
	fyr on flode. No þæs frod leofað	The water burns. And the mere bottom
	gumena bearna, þæt þone grund wite.	Has never been sounded by the sons of men.
1370	Đeah þe hæðstapa hundum geswenced,	On its bank, the heather-stepper halts:
	heorot hornum trum, holtwudu sece,	The hart in flight from pursuing hounds
	feorran geflymed, ær he feorh seleð,	Will turn to face them with firm-set horns
	aldor on ofre, ær he in wille	And die in the wood rather than dive
	hafelan hafenian. Nis þæt heoru stow.	Beneath its surface. That is no good place.
1375	Þonon yðgeblond up astigeð,	When the wind blows up and stormy weather
	won to wolcnum, þonne wind styreþ	Makes clouds scud and the skies weep,
	lað gewidru, oð þæt lyft drysmaþ,	Out of its depths a dirty surge
	roderas reotað. Nu is se ræd gelang	Is pitched towards the heavens. Now help depends
160v	eft æt \| þe anum. Eard git ne const,	Again on you and you alone.
1380	frecne stowe ðær þu findan miht	The gap of danger where the demon waits
	felasinnigne secg. Sec gif þu dyrre.	Is still unknown to you. Seek it if you dare.
	Ic þe þa fæhðe feo leanige,	I will compensate you for settling the feud
	ealdgestreonum, swa ic ær dyde	As I did last time with lavish wealth,
	wundungolde, gyf þu on weg cymest.”	Coffers of coiled gold, if you come back.”
{ 22 } .XXII.
1385	BEOWULF maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes.	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
	“Ne sorga, snotor guma. Selre bið æghwæm	“Wise sir, do not grieve.“ It is always better
	þæt he his freond wrece þonne he fela murne.	To avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning.
	Ure æghwylc sceal ende gebidan	For every one of us, living in this world
	worolde lifes. Wyrce se þe mote	Means waiting for our end. Let whoever can
1390	domes ær deaþe Þæt bið drihtguman,	Win glory before death. When a warrior is gone,
	unlifgendum, æfter selest.	That will be his best and only bulwark.
	Aris, rices weard, uton hraþe feran,	So arise, my lord, and let us immediately
	Grendles magan gang sceawigan.	Set forth on the trail of this troll-dam.
	Ic hit þe gehate: no he on helm losaþ,	I guarantee you: she will not get away,
1395	ne on foldan fæþm, ne on fyrgenholt,	Not to dens underground nor upland groves
	ne on gyfenes grund, ga þær he wille.	Nor the ocean floor. She’ll have nowhere to flee to.
	Đys dogor þu geþyld hafa	Endure your troubles today. Bear up
	weana gehwylces, swa ic þe wene to.”	And be the man I expect you to be.”
	Ahleop ða, se gomela, Gode þancode,	With that the old lord sprung to his feet
161r	mihtigan Drihtne, þæs se man ge\|spræc.	And praised God for Beowulf’s pledge.
	Þa wæs Hroðgare hors gebæted,	Then a bit and halter were brought for his horse
	wicg wundenfeax. Wisa fengel	With the plaited mane. The wise king mounted
	geatolic gende. Gumfeþa stop	The royal saddle and rode out in style
	lindhæbbendra. Lastas wæron	With a force of shield-bearers. The forest paths
1405	æfter waldswaþum wide gesyne.	Were marked all over with the monster’s tracks,
	Gang ofer grundas, gegnum for	Her trail on the ground wherever she had gone
	ofer myrcan mor, magoþegna bær	Across the dark moors, dragging away
	þone selestan sawolleasne	The body of that thane, Hrothgar’s best
	þara þe mid Hroðgare ham eahtode.	Counselor and overseer of the country.
1410	Ofereode þa, æþelinga bearn,	So the noble prince proceeded undismayed
	steap stanhliðo, stige nearwe,	Up fells and pebbly slopes, along narrow footpaths
	enge anpaðas, uncuð gelad,	And ways where they were forced into single file,
	neowle næssas, nicorhusa fela.	Ledges on cliffs above lairs of water-monsters.
	He feara sum beforan gengde	He went in front with a few men,
1415	wisra monna wong sceawian,	Good judges of the lie of the land,
	oþ þæt he færinga fyrgenbeamas	And suddenly discovered the dismal wood,
	ofer harne stan hleonian funde,	Mountain trees growing out at an angle
	wynleasne wudu. Wæter under stod,	Above gray stones: the bloodshot water
	dreorig 7 gedrefed. Denum eallum wæs,	Surged underneath. It was a sore blow
1420	winum Scyldinga, weorce on mode	To all of the Danes, friends of the Shieldings,
	to geþolianne, ðegne monegum,	A hurt to each and every one
	oncyð eorla gehwæm, syðþan Æscheres	Of that noble company when they came upon
	on þam holmclife hafelan metton.	Æschere’s head at the foot of the cliff.
	Flod blode weol - folc to sægon -	Everybody gazed as the hot gore
161v	\| hatan heolfre. Horn stundum song	Kept wallowing up and an urgent war-horn
	fuslic forðleoð. Feþa eal gesæt.	Repeated its notes: the whole party
	Gesawon ða æfter wætere wyrmcynnes fela,	Sat down to watch. The water was infested
	sellice sædracan sund cunnian,	With all kinds of reptiles. There were writhing sea-dragons
	swylce on næshleoðum nicras licgean.	And monsters slouching on slopes by the cliff,
1430	Đa on undernmæl oft bewitigað	Serpents and wild things such as those that often
	sorhfulne sið on seglrade,	Surface at dawn to roam the sail-road
	wyrmas 7 wildeor. Hie on weg hruron	And doom the voyage. Down they plunged,
	bitere 7 gebolgne. Bearhtm ongeaton,	Lashing in anger at the loud call
	guðhorn galan. Sumne Geata leod	Of the battle bugle. An arrow from the bow
1435	of flanbogan feores getwæfde,	Of the Geat chief got one of them
	yðgewinnes. Þæt him on aldre stod,	As he surged to the surface: the seasoned shaft
	herestræl hearda. He on holme wæs	Stuck deep in his flank and his freedom in the water
	sundes þe sænra, ðe hyne swylt fornam.	Got less and less. It was his last swim.
	Hræþe wearð on yðum mid eoferspreotum,	He was swiftly overwhelmed in the shallows,
1440	heorohocyhtum hearde genearwod,	Prodded by barbed boar-spears,
	niða genæged, 7 on næs togen,	Cornered, beaten, pulled up on the bank,
	wundorlic wægbora. Weras sceawedon	A strange lake-birth, a loathsome catch
	gryrelicne gist. Gyrede hine Beowulf	Men gazed at in awe. Beowulf got ready,
	eorlgewædum, nalles for ealdre mearn;	Donned his war-gear, indifferent to death;
1445	scolde herebyrne hondum gebroden	His mighty, hand-forged, fine-webbed mail
	sid 7 searofah sund cunnian,	Would soon meet with the menace under water.
	seo ðe bancofan beorgan cuþe,	It would keep the bone-cage of his body safe:
	þæt him hildegrap hreþre ne mihte	No enemy’s clasp could crush him in it,
	eorres inwitfeng aldre gesceþðan.	No vicious arm lock choke his life out.
162r	Ac se hwita helm \| hafelan werede,	To guard his head he had a glittering helmet
	se þe meregrundas mengan scolde,	That was due to be muddied on the mere bottom
	secan sundgebland since geweorðad,	And blurred in the up swirl. It was of beaten gold,
	befongen freawrasnum swa hine fyrndagum	Princely headgear hooped and hasped
	worhte wæpna smið, wundrum teode,	By a weapon-smith who had worked wonders
1455	besette swinlicum, þæt hine syðþan no	In days gone by and adorned it with boar-shapes;
	brond ne beadomecas bitan ne meahton.	Since then it had resisted every sword.
	Næs þæt þonne mætost mægenfultuma	And another item lent by Unferth
	þæt him on ðearfe lah ðyle Hroðgares.	At that moment was of no small importance:
	Wæs þæm hæftmece Hrunting nama.	The spokesman handed him a hilted weapon,
1460	Þæt wæs an foran ealdgestreona.	A rare and ancient sword named Hrunting.
	Ecg wæs iren, atertanum fah,	The iron blade with its ill-boding patterns
	ahyrded heaþoswate. Næfre hit æt hilde ne swac	Had been tempered in blood. It had never failed
	manna ængum, þara þe hit mid mundum bewand,	The hand of anyone who had hefted it in battle,
	se ðe gryresiðas gegan dorste,	Anyone who had fought and faced the worst
1465	folcstede fara. Næs þæt forma sið	In the gap of danger. This was not the first time
	þæt hit ellenweorc æfnan scolde.	It had been called to perform heroic feats.
	Huru ne gemunde mago Ecglafes,	When he lent that blade to the better swordsman,
	eafoþes cræftig, þæt he ær gespræc,	Unferth, the strong-built son of Ecglaf,
	wine druncen, þa he þæs wæpnes onlah	Could hardly have remembered the ranting speech
1470	selran sweordfrecan. Selfa ne dorste	He had made in his cups. He was not man enough
	under yða gewin aldre geneþan,	To face the turmoil of a fight under water
	drihtscype dreogan. Þær he dome forleas,	And the risk to his life. So there he lost
162v	ellen\|mærðum. Ne wæs þæm oðrum swa,	fame and repute. It was different for the other
	syðþan he hine to guðe gegyred hæfde.	Rigged out in his gear, ready to do battle.
{ 23 } .XXIII.
1475	BEOWVLF maðelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
	“Geþenc nu, se mæra maga Healfdenes,	“Wisest of kings, now that I have come
	snottra fengel, nu ic eom siðes fus,	To the point of action, I ask you to recall
	goldwine gumena, hwæt wit geo spræcon:	What we said earlier: that you, son of Halfdane
	gif ic æt þearfe þinre scolde	And gold-friend to retainers, that you, if I should fall
1480	aldre linnan, þæt ðu me a wære,	And suffer death while serving your cause,
	forðgewitenum, on fæder stæle.	Would act like a father to me afterwards.
	Wes þu mundbora minum magoþegnum,	If this combat kills me, take care
	hondgesellum, gif mec hild nime.	Of my young company, my comrades in arms.
	Swylce þu ða madmas, þe þu me sealdest,	And be sure also, my beloved Hrothgar,
1485	Hroðgar leofa, Higelace onsend.	To send Hygelac the treasures I received.
	Mæg þonne on þæm golde ongitan Geata dryhten,	Let the lord of the Geats gaze on that gold,
	geseon sunu Hrædles, þonne he on þæt sinc starað,	Let Hrethel’s son take note of it and see
	þæt ic gumcystum godne funde	That I found a ring-giver of rare magnificence
	beaga bryttan, breac þonne moste.	And enjoyed the good of his generosity.
1490	7 þu Hunferð læt ealde lafe,	And Unferth is to have what I inherited:
	wrætlic wægsweord; widcuðne man	To that far-famed man I bequeath my own
	heardecg habban. Ic me mid Hruntinge	Sharp-horned, wave-sheened wonder blade.
163r	dom gewyrce \| oþðe mec deað nimeð.”	With Hrunting I shall gain glory or die.
	Æfter þæm wordum Weder-Geata leod	After these words, the prince of the Weather-Geats
1495	efste mid elne. Nalas 7sware	Was impatient to be away and plunged suddenly:
	bidan wolde. Brimwylm onfeng	Without more ado, he dove in to the heaving
	hilderince. Đa wæs hwil dæges	Depths of the lake. It was the best part of a day
	ær he þone grundwong ongytan mehte.	Before he could see the solid bottom.
	Sona þæt onfunde, se ðe floda begong,	Quickly the one who haunted those waters,
1500	heorogifre, beheold hund missera,	Who had scavenged and gone her gluttonous rounds
	grim 7 grædig, þæt þær gumena sum	For a hundred seasons, sensed a human
	ælwihta eard ufan cunnode.	Observing her outlandish lair from above.
	Grap þa togeanes, guðrinc gefeng	So she lunged and clutched and managed to catch him
	atolan clommum. No þy ær in gescod	In her brutal grip; but his body, for all that,
1505	halan lice. Hring utan ymbbearh,	Remained unscathed: the mesh of the chain-mail
	þæt heo þone fyrdhom ðurhfon ne mihte,	Saved him on the outside. Her savage talons
	locene leoðosyrcan, laþan fingrum.	Failed to rip the web of his war shirt.
	Bær þa seo brimwylf, þa heo to botme com,	Then once she touched bottom, the wolfish swimmer
	hringa þengel to hofe sinum,	Carried the ring-mailed prince to her court
1510	swa he ne mihte - no he þæm modig wæs! -	So that for all his courage he could never use
	wæpna gewealdan, ac hine wundra þæs fela	The weapons he carried; and a bewildering horde
	swecte on sunde, sædeor monig	Came at him from the depths, droves of sea-beasts
	hildetuxum heresyrcan bræc,	Who attacked with tusks and tore at his chain-mail
	ehton aglæcan. Đa se eorl ongeat	In a ghastly onslaught. The gallant man
1515	þæt he niðsele nathwylcum wæs,	Could see he had entered some hellish turn-hole
	þær him nænig wæter wihte ne sceþede,	And yet the water did not work against him
	ne him for hrofsele hrinan ne mehte,	Because the hall-roofing held off
163v	færgripe flodes. \| Fyrleoht geseah,	The force of the current; then he saw firelight,
	blacne leoman beorhte scinan.	A gleam and flare-up, a glimmer of brightness.
1520	Ongeat þa se goda grundwyrgenne,	The hero observed that swamp-thing from hell,
	merewif mihtig. Mægenræs forgeaf	The tarn-hag in all her terrible strength,
	hildebille, hondswenge, ne ofteah,	Then heaved his war-sword and swung his arm:
	þæt hire on hafelan hringmæl agol	The decorated blade came down ringing
	grædig guðleoð. Đa se gist onfand	And singing on her head. But he soon found
1525	þæt se beadoleoma bitan nolde,	His battle-torch extinguished: the shinning blade
	aldre sceþðan. Ac seo ecg geswac	Refused to bite. It spared her and failed
	ðeodne æt þearfe. Đolode ær fela	The man in his need. It had gone through many
	hondgemota, helm oft gescær,	Hand-to-hand fights, had hewed the armor
	fæges fyrdhrægl. Đa wæs forma sið	And helmets of the doomed, but here at last
1530	deorum madme þæt his dom alæg.	The fabulous powers of that heirloom failed.
	Eft wæs anræd, nalas elnes læt,	Hygelac’s kinsman kept thinking about
	mærða gemyndig mæg Hylaces:	His name and fame: he never lost heart.
	wearp ða wundelmæl, wrættum gebunden,	Then, in fury, he flung his sword away.
	yrre oretta, þæt hit on eorðan læg,	The keen, inlaid, worm-looped-patterned steel
1535	stið 7 stylecg. Strenge getruwode,	Was hurled to the ground: he would have to rely
	mundgripe mægenes. Swa sceal man don,	On the might of his arm. So must a man do
	þonne he æt guðe gegan þenceð	Who intends to gain enduring glory
	longsumne lof. Na ymb his lif cearað.	In a combat. Life doesn’t cost him thought.
	Gefeng þa be eaxle, nalas for fæhðe mearn,	Then the prince of War-Geats, warming to his fight
1540	Guð-Geata leod, Grendles modor.	With Grendel’s mother, gripped her shoulder
	Brægd þa beadwe heard, þa he gebolgen wæs,	And laid about him in a battle frenzy:
	feorhgeniðlan, þæt heo on flet gebeah.	He pitched his killer opponent to the floor
	Heo him eft hraþe handlean forgeald	But she rose quickly and retaliated,
164r	grim\|man grapum 7 him togeanes feng.	Grappled him tightly in her grim embrace.
1545	Oferwearp þa werigmod, wigena strengest,	The sure-footed fight fell daunted,
	feþecempa, þæt he on fylle wearð.	The strongest of warriors stumbled and fell.
	Ofsæt þa þone selegyst, 7 hyre seax geteah,	So she pounced upon him and pulled out
	brad, brunecg. Wolde hire bearn wrecan,	A broad, whetted knife: now she could avenge
	angan eaferan. Him on eaxle læg	Her only child. But the mesh of chain-mail
1550	breostnet broden; þæt gebearh feore,	On Beowulf’s shoulder shielded his life,
	wið ord 7 wið ecge ingang forstod.	Turned the edge and tip of the blade.
	Hæfde ða forsiðod sunu Ecgþeowes,	The son of Ecgtheow would surely have perished
	under gynne grund, Geata cempa,	And the Geats lost their warrior under the wide earth
	nemne him heaðobyrne helpe gefremede,	Had the strong links and locks of his war-gear
1555	herenet hearde. 7 halig God	Not helped to save him: Holy God
	geweold wigsigor. Witig Drihten,	Decided the victory. It was easy for the Lord,
	rodera Rædend, hit on ryht gesced	The Ruler of Heaven, to redress the balance
	yðelice. Syþðan he eft astod.	Once Beowulf got back up on his feet.
{ 24 } .XXIV.
	GEseah ða on searwum sigeeadig bil,	Then he saw a blade that boded well,
1560	ealdsweord eotenisc ecgum þyhtig,	A sword in her armory, an ancient heirloom
	wigena weorðmynd, þæt wæpna cyst,	From the days of the giants, an ideal weapon,
	buton hit wæs mare ðonne ænig mon oðer	One that any warrior would envy,
	to beadulace ætberan meahte,	But so huge and heavy in itself
	god 7 geatolic, giganta geweorc.	Only Beowulf could wield it in battle.
1565	He gefeng þa fetelhilt, freca Scyldinga	So the Shieldings’ hero, hard-pressed and enraged,
	hreoh 7 heorogrim, hringmæl gebrægd	Took a firm hold of the hilt and swung
164v	aldres orwena, yrringa \| sloh,	The blade in an arc, a resolute blow
	þæt hire wið halse heard grapode,	That bit into her neck bone
	banhringas bræc. Bil eal ðurhwod	And severed it entirely, toppling the doomed
1570	fægne flæschoman. Heo on flet gecrong.	House of her flesh; she fell to the floor.
	Sweord wæs swatig, secg weorce gefeh.	The sword dripped blood, the swordsman was elated.
	Lixte se leoma, leoht inne stod,	A light appeared and the place brightened
	efne swa of hefene hadre scineð	The way the sky does when heaven’s candle
	rodores candel. He æfter recede wlat.	Is shinning clearly. He inspected the vault:
1575	Hwearf þa be wealle, wæpen hafenade	With sword held high, its hilt raised
	heard be hiltum, Higelaces ðegn,	To guard and threaten, Hygelac’s thane
	yrre 7 anræd. Næs seo ecg fracod	Scouted by the wall in Grendel’s wake.
	hilderince, ac he hraþe wolde	Now the weapon was to prove its worth.
	Grendle forgyldan guðræsa fela	The warrior determined to take revenge
1580	ðara þe he geworhte to West-Denum	For every gross act Grendel had committed —
	oftor micle ðonne on ænne sið,	And not only for that one occasion
	þonne he Hroðgares heorðgeneatas	When he’d come to slaughter the sleeping troops,
	sloh on sweofote, slæpende fræt,	Fifteen of Hrothgar’s house-guards
	folces Denigea fyftyne men,	Surprised on their benches and ruthlessly devoured,
1585	7 oðer swylc ut offerede	And as many again carried away,
	laðlicu lac. He him þæs lean forgeald,	A brutal plunderer. Beowulf in his fury
	reþe cempa, to ðæs þe he on ræste geseah	Now settled that score: he saw the monster
	guðwerigne Grendel licgan,	In his resting place, war-weary and wrecked,
	aldorleasne, swa him ær gescod	A lifeless corpse, a casualty
1590	hild æt Heorote. Hra wide sprong,	Of the battle in Heorot. The body gaped
	syþðan he æfter deaðe drepe þrowade,	At the stroke dealt to it after death:
	heorosweng heardne, 7 hine þa heafde becearf.	Beowulf cut the corpse’s head off.
165r	Sona þæt gesawon, snottre \| ceorlas,	Immediately the counselors keeping a lookout
	þa ðe mid Hroðgare on holm wliton,	With Hrothgar, watching the lake water,
1595	þæt wæs yðgeblond eal gemenged	Saw a heave-up and surge of waves
	brim blode fah. Blondenfeaxe,	And blood in the backwash. They bowed gray heads,
	gomele ymb godne, ongeador spræcon	Spoke in their sage, experienced way
	þæt hig þæs æðelinges eft ne wendon,	About the good warrior, how they never again
	þæt he sigehreðig secean come	Expected to see that prince returning
1600	mærne þeoden. Þa ðæs monige gewearð	In triumph to their king. It was clear to many
	þæt hine seo brimwylf abreoten hæfde.	That the wolf of the deep had destroyed him forever.
	Đa com non dæges. Næs ofgeafon	The ninth hour of the day arrived.
	hwate Scyldingas. Gewat him ham þonon,	The brave Shieldings abandoned their cliff-top
	goldwine gumena. Gistas secan	And the king went home; but sick at heart,
1605	modes seoce, 7 on mere staredon;	Staring at the mere, the strangers held on.
	wiston, 7 ne wendon, þæt hie heora winedrihten	They wished, without hope, to behold their lord,
	selfne gesawon. Þa þæt sweord ongan	Beowulf himself. Meanwhile, the sword
	æfter heaþoswate hildegicelum,	Began to wilt into gory icicles,
	wigbil wanian. Þæt wæs wundra sum,	To slather and thaw. It was a wonderful thing,
1610	þæt hit eal gemealt, ise gelicost,	The way it all melted as ice melts
	ðonne forstes bend Fæder onlæteð,	When the father eases the fetters off the frost
	onwindeð wælrapas, se geweald hafað	And unravels the water-ropes. He who wields power
	sæla 7 mæla. Þæt is soð Metod.	Over time and tide: He is the true Lord.
	Ne nom he in þæm wicum, Weder-Geata leod,	The Geat captain saw treasure in abundance
1615	maðmæhta ma, þeh he þær monige geseah,	But carried no spoils from those quarters
	buton þone hafelan 7 þa hilt somod	Except for the head and the inlaid hilt
	since fage. Sweord ær gemealt,	Embossed with jewels; its blade had melted
165v	forbarn brodenmæl. Wæs þæt blod \| to þæs hat,	And the scrollwork on it burnt, so scalding was the blood
	ættren ellorgæst se þær inne swealt.	Of the poisonous fiend who had perished there.
1620	Sona wæs on sunde, se þe ær æt sæcce gebad,	Then away he swan, the one who had survived
	wighryre wraðra. Wæter up þurhdeaf,	The fall of his enemies, flailing to the surface.
	wæron yðgebland eal gefælsod,	The wide water, the waves and pools
	eacne eardas, þa se ellorgast	Were no longer infested once the wandering fiend
	oflet lifdagas 7 þas lænan gesceaft.	Let go of her life and this unreliable world.
1625	Com þa to lande, lidmanna helm,	The seafarers’ leader made for land,
	swiðmod swymman. Sælace gefeah,	Resolutely swimming, delighted with his prize,
	mægenbyrþenne, þara þe he him mid hæfde.	The mighty load he was lugging to the surface.
	Eodon him þa togeanes, Gode þancodon,	His thanes advanced in a troop to meet him,
	ðryðlic þegna heap þeodnes gefegon,	Thanking God and taking great delight
1630	þæs þe hi hyne gesundne geseon moston.	In seeing their prince back safe and sound.
	Đa wæs of þæm hroran helm 7 byrne	Quickly the hero’s helmet and mail-shirt
	lungre alysed. Lagu drusade,	Were loosed and unlaced. The lake settled,
	wæter under wolcnum, wældreore fag.	Clouds darkened above the bloodshot depths.
	Ferdon forð þonon feþelastum	With high hearts they headed away
1635	ferhþum fægne foldweg mæton,	Along footpath and trails through the fields,
	cuþe stræte. Cyningbalde men	Roads that they knew, each of them wrestling
	from þæm holmclife hafelan bæron	With the head they were carrying from the lakeside cliff,
	earfoðlice heora æghwæþrum	Men kingly in their courage and capable
	felamodigra. Feower scoldon	Of difficult work. It was a task for four
1640	on þæm wælstenge weorcum geferian	To hoist Grendel’s head on a spear
	to þæm goldsele Grendles heafod.	And bear it under strain to the bright hall.
166r	Oþ ðæt \| semninga to sele comon,	But soon enough they neared the place,
	frome fyrdhwate feowertyne	Fourteen Geats in fine fettle,
	Geata gongan, gumdryhten mid,	Striding across the outlying ground
1645	modig on gemonge, meodowongas træd.	In a delighted throng around their leader.
	Đa com in gan ealdor ðegna,	In he came then, the thanes’ commander,
	dædcene mon dome gewurþad,	The arch-warrior, to address Hrothgar:
	hæle hildedeor, Hroðgar gretan.	His courage was proven, his glory was secure.
	Þa wæs be feaxe on flet boren	Grendel’s head was hauled by the hair,
1650	Grendles heafod, þær guman druncon,	Dragged across the floor where people were drinking,
	egeslic for eorlum, 7 þære idese mid,	A horror for both queen and company to behold.
	wliteseon wrætlic. Weras onsawon.	They stared in awe. It was an astonishing sight.
{ 25 } XXV
	BEOwulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
	“Hwæt, we þe þas sælac, sunu Healfdenes,	“So, son of Halfdane, prince of the Shieldings,
1655	leod Scyldinga, lustum brohton	We are glad to bring this booty from the lake.
	tires to tacne, þe þu her to locast.	It is a token of triumph and we tender it to you.
	Ic þæt unsofte ealdre gedigde,	I barely survived the battle underwater.
	wigge under wætere, weorc geneþde	It was hard-fought, a desperate affair
	earfoðlice. Ætrihte wæs	That could have gone badly; if God had not helped me,
1660	guð getwæfed, nymðe mec God scylde.	The outcome would have been quick and fatal.
	Ne meahte ic æt hilde mid Hruntinge	Although Hrunting is hard-edged,
	wiht gewyrcan, þeah þæt wæpen duge.	I could never bring it to bear in battle.
	Ac me geuðe ylda Waldend	But the Lord of Men allowed me to behold—
166v	þæt ic on wage geseah wlitig \| hangian	For he often helps the unbefriended —
1665	ealdsweord eacen. Oftost wisode	An ancient sword shinning on the wall,
	winigea leasum; þæt ic ðy wæpne gebræd,	A weapon made for giants, there for the wielding.
	ofsloh ða æt þære sæcce, þa me sæl ageald,	Then my moment came in the combat and I struck
	huses hyrdas. Þa þæt hildebil	The dwellers in that den. Next thing the damascened
	forbarn, brogdenmæl, swa þæt blod gesprang,	Sword blade melted; it bloated and it burned
1670	hatost heaþoswata. Ic þæt hilt þanan	In their rushing blood. I have wrested the hilt
	feondum ætferede, fyrendæda wræc,	From the enemies’ hand, avenged the evil
	deaðcwealm Denigea, swa hit gedefe wæs.	Done to the Danes; it is what was due.
	Ic hit þe þonne gehate, þæt þu on Heorote most	And this I pledge, O prince of the Shieldings:
	sorhleas swefan mid þinra secga gedryht,	You can sleep secure with your company of troops
1675	7 þegna gehwylc þinra leoda,	In Heorot Hall. Never need you fear
	duguðe 7 iogoþe, þæt þu him ondrædan ne þearft,	For a single thane of your guard or nation,
	þeoden Scyldinga, on þa healfe,	Young warriors or old, that laying waste of life
	aldorbealu eorlum, swa þu ær dydest.”	That you and your people endured of yore.”
	Đa wæs gyldenhilt gamelum rince,	Then the gold hilt was handed over
1680	harum hildfruman, on hand gyfen	To the old lord, a relic from long ago
	enta ærgeweorc. Hit on æht gehwearf	For the venerable ruler. That rare smith work
	æfter deofla hryre Denigea frean,	Was passed on to the prince of the Danes
	wundorsmiþa geweorc. 7 þa þas worold ofgeaf,	When those devils perished; once death removed
	gromheort guma, Godes andsaca	That murdering, guilt-steeped, God-cursed fiend,
1685	morðres scyldig, 7 his modor eac.	Eliminating his unholy life
	On geweald gehwearf woroldcyninga	And his mother’s as well, it was willed that the king
167r	ðæm selestan be \| sæm tweonum,	Who of all the lavish gift-lords of the north
	ðara þe on Scedenigge sceattas dælde.	Was the best regarded between the two seas.
	Hroðgar maðelode. Hylt sceawode,	Hrothgar spoke; he examined the hilt,
1690	ealde lafe; on ðæm wæs or writen	That relic of old times. It was engraved all over
	fyrngewinnes, syðþan flod ofsloh,	And showed how war first came into the world
	gifen geotende, giganta cyn.	And the flood destroyed the tribe of giants.
	Frecne geferdon; þæt wæs fremde þeod	They suffered a terrible severance from the Lord;
	ecean Dryhtne. Him þæs endelean	The Almighty made the waters rise,
1695	þurh wæteres wylm Waldend sealde.	Drowned them in the deluge for retribution.
	Swa wæs on ðæm scennum sciran goldes,	In pure gold inlay on the sword-guards
	þurh runstafas rihte gemearcod,	There were rune markings correctly incised,
	geseted 7 gesæd, hwam þæt sweord geworht,	Stating and recording for whom the sword
	irena cyst ærest wære,	Had been first made and ornamented
1700	wreoþenhilt 7 wyrmfah. Đa se wisa spræc,	With its scrollwork hilt. Then everyone hushed
	sunu Healfdenes. Swigedon ealle:	As the son of Halfdane spoke his wisdom.
	“Þæt, la, mæg secgan, se þe soð 7 riht	“Indeed, this may be said by a man who has wrought
	fremeð on folce, feor eal gemon,	Truth and justice among his people, who remembers things of long ago
	eald eðelweard, þæt ðes eorl wære	an old guardian of the ancestral land, that this earl was
1705	geboren betera. Blæd is aræred	born more excellent. Your glory is uplifted
	geond widwegas, wine min Beowulf,	beyond distant ways, Beowulf, my friend,
	ðin ofer þeoda gehwylce. Eal þu hit geþyldum	over every people. Even-temperedly
	healdest mægen, mid modes snyttrum.	You hold sway, with wisdom of mind.
	Ic þe sceal mine gelæstan freoðe	So I stand firm by the promise of friendship
1710	swa wit furðum spræcon. Đu scealt to frofre weorþan	We exchanged before. Forever you will be
	eal langtwidig leodum þinum,	Your people’s mainstay and your own warriors’
167v	\| hæleðum to helpe. Ne wearð Heremod swa	Helping hand. Heremod was different,
	eaforum Ecgwelan, Ar-Scyldingum.	The way he behaved to Ecgwala’s sons.
	Ne geweox he him to willan, ac to wælfealle	His rise in the world brought little joy
1715	7 to deaðcwalum Deniga leodum.	To the Danish people, only death and destruction.
	Breat bolgenmod beodgeneatas,	He vented his rage on people he caroused with,
	eaxlgesteallan, oþ þæt he ana hwearf,	Killed his own comrades, a pariah king
	mære þeoden, mondreamum from	Who cut himself off from his own kind,
	ðeah þe hine mihtig God mægenes wynnum	Even though God Almighty had made him
1720	eafeþum stepte ofer ealle men,	Eminent and powerful and marked him from the start
	forð gefremede. Hwæþere him on ferhþe greow	For a happy life. But a change happened,
	breosthord blodreow. Nallas beagas geaf	He grew bloodthirsty, gave no more rings
	Denum æfter dome. Dreamleas gebad,	To honor the Danes. He suffered in the end
	þæt he þæs gewinnes weorc þrowade,	For having plagued his people for so long:
1725	leodbealo longsum. Đu þe lær be þon,	His life lost happiness. So learn from this
	gumcyste ongit. Ic þis gid be þe	And understand true values. I who tell you
	awræc wintrum frod. Wundor is to secganne	Have wintered into wisdom. It is a great wonder
	hu mihtig God manna cynne	How Almighty God in his magnificence upon our race
	þurh sidne sefan snyttru bryttað,	Bestows the gift of wisdom
1730	eard 7 eorlscipe. He ah ealra geweald.	And land and valor. His sway is wide.
	Hwilum he on lufan læteð hworfan	Sometimes He allows the mind of a man
	monnes modgeþonc mæran cynnes,	Of distinguished birth to follow its bent,
	seleð him on eþle eorþan wynne	Grants him fulfillment and felicity on earth
	to healdanne hleoburh wera,	And forts to command in his own country.
168r	\| gedeð him swa gewealdene worolde dælas,	He permits him to lord it in many lands
	side rice, þæt he his selfa ne mæg	Until the man in his unthinkingness
	for his unsnyttrum ende geþencean.	Forgets that it will ever end for him.
	Wunað he on wiste. No hine wiht dweleð,	He indulges his desires; illness and old age
	adl ne yldo, ne him inwitsorh	Mean nothing to him; his mind is untroubled
1740	on sefan sweorceð, ne gesacu ohwær	By envy or malice or thought of enemies
	ecghete eoweð, ac him eal worold	With their hate-honed swords. The whole world
	wendeð on willan. He þæt wyrse ne con.”	Conforms to his will, he is kept from the worst
{ 26 } .XXVI.
	“Oð þæt him on innan oferhygda dæl	Until an element of overweening
	weaxeð 7 wridað. Þonne se weard swefeð,	Enters him and takes hold
1745	sawele hyrde. Bið se slæp to fæst,	While the soul’s guard, its sentry, drowses,
	bisgum gebunden, bona swiðe neah,	Grown too distracted. A killer stalks him,
	se þe of flanbogan fyrenum sceoteð.	An archer who draws a deadly bow.
	Þonne bið on hreþre under helm drepen	And then the man is hit in the heart,
	biteran stræle, him bebeorgan ne con,	The arrow flies beneath his defenses,
1750	wom wundorbebodum wergan gastes.	The devious promptings of the demon start.
	Þinceð him to lytel þæt he to lange heold;	His old possessions seem paltry to him now.
	gytsað gromhydig, nallas on gylp seleð	He covets and resents; dishonors custom
	fædde beagas, 7 he þa forðgesceaft	And bestows no gold; and because of good things
	forgyteð 7 forgymeð, þæs þe him ær God sealde,	That the Heavenly powers gave him in the past
168v	wuldres \| Waldend, weorðmynda dæl.	He ignores the shape of things to come.
	Hit on endestæf eft gelimpeð	Then finally the end arrives
	þæt se lichoma læne gedreoseð,	When the body he was lent collapses and falls
	fæge gefealleð. Fehð oþer to,	Prey to its death; ancestral possessions
	se þe unmurnlice madmas dæleþ,	And the goods he hoarded and inherited by another
1760	eorles ærgestreon, egesan ne gymeð.	Who lets them go with a liberal hand.
	Bebeorh þe ðone bealonið, Beowulf leofa,	“O flower of warriors, beware of that trap.
	secg betsta, 7 þe þæt selre geceos,	Choose, dear Beowulf, the better part,
	ece rædas. Oferhyda ne gym,	Eternal rewards. Do not give way to pride.
	mære cempa. Nu is þines mægnes blæd	For a brief while your strength is in bloom
1765	ane hwile. Eft sona bið	But it fades quickly; and soon there will follow
	þæt þec adl oððe ecg eafoþes getwæfeð,	Illness or the sword to lay you low,
	oððe fyres feng, oððe flodes wylm,	Or a sudden fire or surge of water
	oððe gripe meces, oððe gares fliht,	Or jabbing blade or javelin from the air
	oððe atol yldo. Oððe eagena bearhtm	Or repellent age. Your piercing eye
1770	forsiteð 7 forsworceð. Semninga bið	Will dim and darken; and death will arrive,
	þæt ðec, dryhtguma, deað oferswyðeð.	Dear warrior, to sweep you away.
	Swa ic Hring-Dena hund missera	“Just so I ruled the ring-Danes’ country
	weold under wolcnum 7 hig wigge beleac,	For fifty years, defended them in wartime
	manigum mægþa geond þysne middangeard,	With spear and sword against constant assaults
1775	æscum 7 ecgum, þæt ic me ænigne	By many tribes: I came to believe
	under swegles begong gesacan ne tealde.	My enemies had faded from the face of the earth.
	Hwæt, me þæs on eþle edwendan cwom,	Still, what happened was a hard reversal
	gyrn æfter gomene, seoþðan Grendel wearð	From bliss to grief. Grendel struck
	ealdgewinna, ingenga min.	After lying in wait. He laid waste the land
169r	\| Ic þære socne singales wæg	And from that moment my mind was in dread
	modceare micle. Þæs sig Metode þanc,	Of his depredations. So I praise God
	ecean Dryhtne, þæs ðe ic on aldre gebad,	In His heavenly glory that I lived to behold
	þæt ic on þone hafelan heorodreorigne	This head dripping blood and after such harrowing
	ofer eald gewin eagum starige.	I can look upon it in triumph at last.
1785	Ga nu to setle, symbelwynne dreoh	Take your place, then, with pride and pleasure
	wiggeweorþad. Unc sceal worn fela	And move to the feast. Tomorrow morning
	maþma gemænra siþðan morgen bið.”	Our treasure will be shared and showered upon you.”
	Geat wæs glædmod, geong sona to	The Geat was elated and gladly obeyed
	setles neosan, swa se snottra heht.	The old man’s biding; he sat on the bench.
1790	Þa wæs eft swa ær ellenrofum,	And soon all was restored, the same as before.
	fletsittendum fægere gereorded	Happiness came back, the hall was thronged,
	niowan stefne. Nihthelm geswearc,	And a banquet set forth; black night fell
	deorc ofer dryhtgumum. Duguð eal aras.	And covered them in darkness. Then the company rose
	Wolde blondenfeax beddes neosan,	For the old campaigner: the gray-haired prince
1795	gamela Scylding. Geat unigmetes wel,	Was ready for bed. And a need for rest
	rofne randwigan, restan lyste.	Came over the brave shield-bearing Geat.
	Sona him seleþegn, siðes wergum	He was a weary sea-farer, far from home,
	feorrancundum forð wisade;	So immediately a house-guard guided him out,
	se for andrysnum ealle beweotede	One whose office entailed looking after
1800	þegnes þearfe, swylce þy dogore	Whatever a thane on the road in those days
	heaþoliðende habban scoldon.	Might need or require. It was noble courtesy.
	Reste hine þa rumheort. Reced hliuade,	That great heart rested. The hall towered,
	geap 7 goldfah. Gæst inne swæf,	Gold-shingled and gabled, and the guest slept in it
	oþ þæt hrefn blaca, heofones wynne	Until the black raven with raucous glee
169v	bliðheort bodode. \| Đa com beorht scacan;	Announced heaven’s joy, and a hurry of brightness
	scaþan onetton.	Overran the shadows. Warriors rose quickly,
	Wæron æþelingas eft to leodum	Impatient to be off: their own country
	fuse to farenne. Wolde feor þanon,	Was beckoning the nobles; and the bold voyager
	cuma collenferhð, ceoles neosan.	Longed to be aboard his distant boat.
1810	Heht þa, se hearda, Hrunting beran	Then that stalwart fighter ordered Hrunting
	sunu Ecglafes, heht his sweord niman,	To be brought to Unferth, and bade Unferth
	leoflic iren. Sægde him þæs leanes þanc,	Take the sword and thanked him for lending it.
	cwæð, he þone guðwine godne tealde.	He said he had found it a friend in battle
	wigcræftigne. Nales wordum log	And a powerful help; he put no blame
1815	meces ecge. Þæt wæs modig secg.	On the blade’s cutting edge. He was a considerate man.
	7 þa, siðfrome, searwum gearwe,	And there the warriors stood in their war-gear,
	wigend wæron. Eode weorð Denum,	Eager to go, while their honored lord
	æþeling to yppan, þær se oþer wæs.	Approached the platform where the other sat.
	Helle hildedeor Hroðgar grette.	The undaunted hero addressed Hrothgar.
{ 27 } .XXVII.
1820	Beowulf maþelode, bearn Ecgþeowes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
	“Nu we sæliðend secgan wyllað	“Now we who crossed the wide sea
	feorran cumene, þæt we fundiaþ	Have to inform you that we feel a desire
	Higelac secan. Wæron her tela	To return to Hygelac. Here we have been welcomed
	willum bewenede. Þu us wel dohtest.	And thoroughly entertain. You have treated us well.
1825	Gif ic þonne on eorþan owihte mæg	If there is any favor on earth I can perform
	þinre modlufan maran tilian,	Beyond deeds of arms I have done already,
	gumena dryhten, ðonne ic gyt dyde	Anything that would merit your affections more,
	guðgeweorca, ic beo gearo sona.	I shall act, my lord, with alacrity.
170r	Gif ic þæt ge\|fricge ofer floda begang,	If ever I hear from across the ocean
1830	þæt þec ymbsittend egesan þywað,	That people on your borders are threatening battle
	swa þec hetende hwilum dydon,	As attackers have done from time to time,
	ic ðe þusenda þegna bringe,	I shall land with a thousand thanes at my back
	hæleþa to helpe. Ic on Higelace wat	To help your cause. Hygelac may be young
	Geata dryhten, þeah ðe he geong sy	To rule a nation, but this much I know
1835	folces hyrde, þæt he mec fremman wile	About the king of the Geats: he will come to my aid
	weordum 7 worcum, þæt ic þe wel herige	And want to support me by word and action
	7 þe to geoce garholt bere,	In your hour of need, when honor dictates
	mægenes fultum, þær ðe bið manna þearf.	That I raise a hedge of spears around you.
	Gif him þonne Hreþric to hofum Geata	Then if Hrethric should think about traveling
1840	geþingeð þeodnes bearn, he mæg þær fela	As a king’s son to the court of the Geats,
	freonda findan. Feorcyþðe beoð	He will find many friend. Foreign places
	selran gesohte þæm þe him selfa deah.”	Yield more to one who is himself worth meeting.”
	Hroðgar maþelode him on andsware:	Hrothgar spoke and answered him:
	“Þe þa wordcwydas wigtig Drihten	“The Lord in his wisdom sent you those words
1845	on sefan sende. Ne hyrde ic snotorlicor	And they came from the heart. I have never heard
	on swa geongum feore guman þingian.	So young a man make truer observations.
	Þu eart mægenes strang 7 on mode frod,	You are strong in body and mature in mind,
	wis wordcwida. Wen ic talige:	Impressive in speech. If it should come to pass
	gif þæt gegangeð þæt ðe gar nymeð,	That Hrethel’s descendant dies beneath a spear,
1850	hild heorugrimme Hreþles eaferan,	If deadly battle or the sword blade or disease
	adl oþðe iren ealdor ðinne,	Fells the prince who guards your people
	folces hyrde, 7 þu þin feorh hafast,	And you are still alive, I firmly believe
170v	þæt þe \|Sæ-Geatas selran næbban	The seafaring Geats won’t find a man
	to geceosenne cyning ænigne	Worthier of acclaim as their king and defender
1855	hordweard hæleþa, gyf þu healdan wylt	Than you, if only you would undertake
	maga rice. Me þin modsefa	The lordship of your homeland. My liking for you
	licað leng swa wel, leofa Beowulf.	Deepens with time, dear Beowulf.
	Hafast þu gefered þæt þam folcum sceal,	What you have done is to draw two peoples,
	Geata leodum 7 Gar-Denum,	The Geat nation and us neighboring Danes,
1860	sib gemænum, 7 sacu restan,	Into shared peace and a pact of friendship
	inwitniþas, þe hie ær drugon;	In spite of hatreds we have harbored in the past.
	wesan, þenden ic wealde widan rices,	For as long as I rule this far-flung land
	maþmas gemæne, manig oþerne	Treasures will change hands and each side will treat
	godum gegrettan ofer ganotes bæð.	The other with gifts; across the gannet’s bath
1865	Sceal hringnaca ofer heaþu bringan	Over the broad sea, whorled prows will bring
	lac 7 luftacen. Ic þa leode wat	Presents and tokens. I know your people
	ge wið feond ge wið freond fæste geworhte,	Are beyond reproach in every respect,
	æghwæs untæle ealde wisan.”	Steadfast in the old way with friend or foe.”
	Đa git him eorla hleo. inne gesealde,	Then the earl’s defender furnished the hero
1870	mago Healfdenes, maþmas twelfe.	With twelve treasures and told him to set out,
	Het inne mid þæm lacum leode swæse	Sail with those gifts safely home
	secean on gesyntum, snude eft cuman.	To the people he loved, but to return promptly.
	Gecyste þa, cyning æþelum god,	And so the good and gray-haired Dane,
	þeoden Scyldinga, ðegn betstan	That high-born king, kissed Beowulf
1875	7 be healse genam. Hruron him tearas	And embraced his neck, then broke down
	blondenfeaxum. Him wæs bega wen,	In sudden tears. Two forebodings
171r	ealdum in\|frodum oþres swiðor,	Disturbed him in his wisdom, but one was stronger:
	þæt hie seoððan na geseon moston,	Nevermore would they meet each other
	modige on meþle. Wæs him se man to þon leof	Face to face. And such was his affection
1880	þæt he þone breostwylm forberan ne mehte.	That he could not help being overcome:
	Ac him on hreþre hygebendum fæst	His fondness for the man was so deep-founded,
	æfter deorum men dyrne langað	It warmed his heart and wound the heartstrings
	beorn wið blode. Him Beowulf þanan,	Tight in his breast. The embrace ended
	guðrinc goldwlanc, græsmoldan træd,	And Beowulf, glorious in his gold regalia,
1885	since hremig. Sægenga bad	Stepped on the green earth. Straining at anchor
	agedfrean, se þe on ancre rad.	And ready for boarding, his boat awaited him.
	Þa wæs on gange gifu Hroðgares	So they went on their journey, and Hrothgar’s generosity
	oft geæhted. Þæt wæs an cyning,	Was praised repeatedly. He was a peerless king
	æghwæs orleahtre, oþ þæt hine yldo benam	Until old age sapped his strength and did him
1890	mægenes wynnum, se þe oft manegum scod.	Mortal harm, as it has done so many.
{ 28 } .XXVIII.
	CWOM þa to flode fela modigra	Down to the waves then, dressed in the web
	hægstealdra. Hringnet bæron	Of their chain-mail and war-shirts the young men marched
	locene leoðosyrcan. Landweard onfand	In high spirits. The coast-guard spied them,
	eftsið eorla, swa he ær dyde.	Thanes setting forth, the same as before.
1895	No he mid hearme of hliðes nosan	His salute this time from the top of the cliff
171v	\| giestas grette, ac him togeanes rad,	Was far from unmannerly; he galloped to meet them
	cwæð þæt wilcuman Wedera leodum	And as they took ship in their shinning gear,
	scaþan scirhame to scipe foron.	He said how welcome they would be in Geatland.
	Þa wæs on sande sægeap naca	Then the broad hull was beached on the sand
1900	hladen herewædum, hringedstefna,	To be cargoed with treasure, horses and war-gear.
	mearum 7 maðmum. Mæst hlifade	The curved prow motioned; the mast stood high
	ofer Hroðgares hordgestreonum.	Above Hrothgar’s riches in the loaded hold.
	He þæm batwearde bunden golde	The guard who had watched the boat was given
	swurd gesealde, þæt he syðþan wæs	A sword with gold fittings and in future days
1905	on meodubence maþma þy weorþre,	That present would make him a respected man
	yrfelafe. Gewat him on nacan	At his place on the mead-bench. Then the keel plunged
	drefan deop wæter. Dena land ofgeaf.	And shook in the sea; and they sailed from Denmark.
	Þa wæs be mæste merehrægla sum,	Right away the mast was rigged with its sea-shawl;
	segl sale fæst. Sundwudu þunede.	Sail ropes were tightened, timbers drummed
1910	No þær wegflotan wind ofer yðum	And stiff winds kept the wave-crosser
	siðes getwæfde. Sægenga for,	Skimming ahead; as she heaved forward,
	fleat famigheals forð ofer yðe,	Her foamy neck was fleet and buoyant,
	bundenstefna ofer brimstreamas,	A lapped prow loping over currents,
	þæt hie Geata clifu ongitan meahton,	Until finally the Geats caught sight of coastline
1915	cuþe næssas. Ceol up geþrang	And familiar cliffs. The keel reared up,
	lyftgeswenced. On lande stod.	Wind lifted it home, it hit on the land.
172r	Hraþe wæs æt \| holme hyðweard geara,	The harbor guard came hurrying out To the rolling water:
	se þe ær lange tid leofra manna	Long and hard, on the lookout for those friends,
	fus æt faroðe feor wlatode.	By the water he had waited and watched afar.
1920	Sælde to sande sidfæþme scip	With the anchor cables, he moored their craft
	oncearbendum fæst, þy læs hym yþa ðrym	Right where it had beached, in case a backwash
	wudu wynsuman forwrecan meahte.	Might catch the hull and carry it away.
	Het þa up beran æþelinga gestreon,	Then he ordered the prince’s treasure-trove
	frætwe 7 fætgold. Næs him feor þanon	To be carried ashore. It was a short step
1925	to gesecanne sinces bryttan,	From there to where Hrethel’s son and heir,
	Higelac Hreþling, þær æt ham wunað	Hygelac the gold-giver, makes his home
	selfa mid gesiðum sæwealle neah.	On a secure cliff, in the company of retainers.
	Bold wæs betlic, bregorof cyning,	The building was magnificent, the king majestic,
	heahealle in. Hygd swiðe geong,	Ensconced in his hall; and although Hygd, his queen,
1930	wis welþungen, þeah ðe wintra lyt	Was young, a few short years at court,
	under burhlocan gebiden hæbbe,	Her mind was thoughtful and her manners sure.
	Hæreþes dohtor. Næs hio hnah swa þeah,	Haereth’s daughter behaved generously
	ne to gneað gifa Geata leodum,	And stinted nothing when she distributed
	maþmgestreona. Mod Þryðo wæg,	Bounty to the Geats. Great Queen Modthryth
1935	fremu folces cwen, firen ondrysne.	Perpetrated terrible wrongs.
	Nænig þæt dorste deor geneþan,	If any retainer ever made bold
	swæsra gesiða, nefne sinfrea,	To look her in the face, if an eye not her lord’s
	þæt hire an dæges eagum starede.	Stared at her directly during daylight,
172v	Ac him wælbende \| weotode tealde	The outcome was sealed: he was bound
1940	handgewriþene; hraþe seoþðan wæs,	In hand-tightened shackles, racked, tortured
	æfter mundgripe mece geþinged,	Until doom was announced — death by the sword,
	þæt hit sceadenmæl scyran moste,	Slash of blade, blood gush and death qualms
	cwealmbealu cyðan. Ne bið swylc cwenlic þeaw	In an evil display. Even a queen
	idese to efnanne, þeah ðe hio ænlicu sy,	Outstanding in beauty must not overstep like that.
1945	þætte freoðuwebbe feores onsæce	A queen should weave peace, not punish the innocent
	æfter ligetorne leofne mannan.	With loss of life for imagined insults.
	Huru þæt on hoh snod Hemninges mæg.	But Hemming’s kinsman put a halt to her ways
	Ealodrincende oðer sædan,	And drinkers round the table had another tale:
	þæt hio leodbealewa læs gefremede,	She was less of a bane to people’s lives,
1950	inwitniða, syððan ærest wearð	Less cruel-minded, after she was married
	gyfen goldhroden geongum cempan,	To the brave Offa, a bride arrayed
	æðelum diore, syððan hio Offan flet	In her gold finery, given away
	ofer fealone flod be fæder lare	By a caring father, ferried to her young prince
	siðe gesohte. Đær hio syððan well	Over dim seas. In days to come
1955	in gumstole, gode mære,	She would grace the throne and grow famous
	lifgesceafta lifigende breac,	For her good deeds and conduct of life,
	hiold heahlufan wið hæleþa brego,	Her high devotion to the hero king
	ealles moncynnes mine gefræge	Who was the best king, it has been said,
	þæs selestan bi sæm tweonum,	Between the two seas or anywhere else
173r	eormencynnes. Forðam Offa \| wæs	On the face of the earth. Offa was honored
	geofum 7 guðum, garcene man,	Far and wide for his generous ways,
	wide geweorðod. Wisdome heold	His fighting spirit and his far-seeing
	eðel sinne. Þonon geomor woc	Defense of his homeland; from him there sprang Eomer,
	hæleðum to helpe, Heminges mæg,	Garmund’s grandson, kinsman of Hemming,
1965	nefa Garmundes, niða cræftig.	His warrior’s mainstay and master of the field.
{ 29 } .XXIX.
	GEwat him ða se hearda mid his hondscole	Heroic Beowulf and his band of men
	sylf æfter sande sæwong tredan,	Crossed the wide strand, striding along
	wide waroðas. Woruldcandel scan,	The sandy foreshore; the sun shone,
	sigel suðan fus. Hi sið drugon,	The world’s candle warmed them from the south
1970	elne geeodon, to ðæs ðe eorla hleo,	As they hastened to where, as they had heard,
	bonan Ongenþeoes burgum in innan,	The young king, Ongentheow’s killer
	geongne guðcyning godne gefrunon	And his people’s protector, was dispensing rings
	hringas dælan. Higelace wæs	Inside his building. Beowulf’s return
	sið Beowulfes snude gecyðed,	Was reported to Hygelac as soon as possible,
1975	þæt ðær on worðig wigendra hleo,	News that the captain was now in the enclosure,
	lindgestealla, lifigende cwom,	His battle-brother back from the fray
	heaðolaces hal to hofe gongan.	Alive and well, walking back to the hall.
	Hraðe wæs gerymed, swa se rica bebead,	Room was quickly made, on the king’s orders,
	feðegestum flet innanweard.	And the troops filed across the cleared floor.
1980	Gesæt þa wið sylfne, se ða sæcce genæs,	After Hygelac had offered greetings
173v	mæg wið mæge, \| syððan mandryhten	To his loyal thane in lofty speech,
	þurh hleoðorcwyde holdne gegrette,	He and his kinsman, that hale survivor,
	meaglum wordum. Meoduscencum hwearf	Sat face to face. Haereth’s daughter
	geond þæt herereced Hæreðes dohtor,	Moved about with the mead-jug in her hand,
1985	lufode ða leode, liðwæge bær	Taking care of the company, filling the cups
	hænum to handa. Higelac ongan	That warriors held out. Then Hygelac began
	sinne geseldan in sele þam hean	To put courteous questions to his old comrade
	fægre fricgcean, hyne fyrwet bræc,	In the high hall. He hankered to know
	hwylce Sæ-Geata siðas wæron.	Every tale the Sea-Geats had to tell.
1990	“Hu lomp eow on lade, leofa Biowulf,	“How did you fare on your foreign voyage,
	þa ðu færinga feorr gehogodest	Dear Beowulf, when you abruptly decided
	sæcce secean ofer sealt wæter,	To sail away across the salt water
	hilde to Hiorote? Ac ðu Hroðgare	And fight at Heorot? Did you help Hrothgar
	widcuðne wean wihte gebettest,	Much in the end? Could you ease the prince
1995	mærum ðeodne? Ic ðæs modceare	Of his well-known troubles? Your undertaking
	sorhwylmum seað, siðe ne truwode	Cast my spirits down, I dreaded the outcome
	leofes mannes. Ic ðe lange bæd,	Of your expedition and pleaded with you
	þæt ðu þone wælgæst wihte ne grette,	Long and hard to leave the killer be,
	lete Suð-Dene sylfe geweorðan	Let the South-Danes settle their own
2000	guðe wið Grendel. Gode ic þanc secge,	Blood-feud with Grendel. So God be thanked
	þæs ðe ic ðe gesundne geseon moste.	I am granted this sight of you, safe and sound.”
	Biowulf maðelode, bearn Ecgðioes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
174r	\| “Þæt is undyrne, dryhten Higelac,	“What happened, lord Hygelac, is hardly a secret
	micel gemeting monegum fira,	Any more among men in this world —
2005	hwylc earfoðhwil uncer Grendles	Myself and Grendel coming to grips
	wearð on ðam wange þær he worna fela	On the very spot where he visited destruction
	Sige-Scyldingum sorge gefremede,	On the Victory-Shieldings and violated
	yrmðe to aldre. Ic ðæt eall gewræc,	Life and limb, losses I avenged
	swa læs gylpan þearf Grendeles maga	So no earthly offspring of Grendel’s
2010	yfel ofer eorðan uhthlem þone,	Need ever boast of that bout before dawn,
	se ðe lengest leofað laðan cynnes,	No matter know long the last of his evil
	fyrene bifongen. Ic ðær furðum cwom	Family survives. When I first landed
	to ðam hringsele Hroðgar gretan.	I hastened to the ring-hall and saluted Hrothgar.
	Sona me se mæra mago Healfdenes,	Once he had discovered why I had come
2015	syððan he modsefan minne cuðe,	The son of Halfdane sent me immediately
	wið his sylfes sunu setl getæhte.	To sit with his own sons on the bench.
	Weorod wæs on wynne. Ne seah ic widan feorh	It was a happy gathering. In my whole life
	under heofones hwealf healsittendra	I have never seen mead enjoyed more
	medudream maran. Hwilum mæru cwen,	In any hall on earth. Sometimes the queen
2020	friðusibb folca, flet eall geondhwearf,	Herself appeared, peace-pledge between nations,
	bædde byre geonge. Oft hio beahwriðan	To hearten the young ones and hand out
174v	secge \| sealde, ær hie to setle geong.	A torque to a warrior, then take her place.
	Hwilum for duguðe dohtor Hroðgares	Sometimes Hrothgar’s daughter distributed
	eorlum on ende ealuwæge bær.	Ale to older ranks, in order on the benches:
2025	Þa ic Freaware fletsittende	I heard the company call her Freawaru
	nemnan hyrde, þær hio nægled sinc	As she made her rounds, presenting men
	hæleðum sealde. Sio gehaten is,	With the gem-studded bowl, young bride-to-be
	geong goldhroden, gladum suna Frodan.	To the gracious Ingeld, in her gold-rimmed attire.
	Hafað þæs geworden wine Scyldinga,	The friend of the Shieldings favors her betrothal:
2030	rices hyrde, 7 þæt ræd talað,	The guardian of the kingdom sees good in it
	þæt he mid ðy wife wælfæhða dæl	And hoped this woman will heal old wounds
	sæcca gesette. Oft seldan hwær	And grievous feuds. But generally the spear
	æfter leodhryre lytle hwile	Is prompt to retaliate when a prince is killed,
	bongar bugeð, þeah seo bryd duge.	No matter how admirable the bride may be.
2035	Mæg þæs þonne ofþyncan ðeodne Heaðo-Beardna	“Think how the Heathobards will be bound to feel,
	7 þegna gehwam þara leoda,	Their lord, Ingeld, and his loyal thanes,
	þonne he mid fæmnan on flett gæð:	When he walks in with that woman to the feast:
	dryhtbearn Dena duguða, biwenede,	Danes are at the table, being entertained,
	on him gladiað gomelra lafe,	Honored guest in glittering regalia,
2040	heard 7 hringmæl Heaða-Bearna gestreon,	Burnished ring-mail that was their hosts’ birthright,
	þenden hie ðam wæpnum wealdan moston.	Looted when the Heathobards could no longer wield
{ 30 } [.XXX.]
	Oð ðæt hie forlæddan to ðam lindplegan	Their weapons in the shield-clash, when they went down
	swæse gesiðas ond hyra sylfra feorh.	With their beloved comrades and forfeited their lives.
175r	Þonne cwið æt beore, se ðe beah \| gesyhð,	Then an old spearman will speak while they are drinking,
2045	eald æscwiga, se ðe eall geman	Having glimpsed some heirloom that brings alive
	garcwealm gumena. Him bið grim sefa,	Memories of the massacre; his mood will darken
	onginneð geomormod geongan cempan	And heart-stricken, in the stress of his emotion,
	þurh hreðra gehygd higes cunnian,	He will begin to test a young-man’s temper
	wigbealu weccean, 7 þæt word acwyð:	And stir up trouble, starting like this:
2050	“Meaht ðu, min wine, mece gecnawan,	“Now, my friend, don’t you recognize
	þone þin fæder to gefeohte bær,	Your father’s sword, his favorite weapon,
	under heregriman hindeman siðe,	Then one he wore when he went out in his war-mask
	dyre iren. Þær hyne Dene slogon,	To face the Danes on that final day?
	weoldon wælstowe, syððan wiðergyld læg,	After Wethergeld died and his men were doomed
2055	æfter hæleþa hryre, hwate Scyldungas.	The Shieldings quickly took the field,
	Nu her þara banena byre nathwylces,	And now here’s the son of one or other
	frætwum hremig, on flet gæð,	Of those same killers coming through our hall
	morðres gylpeð, 7 þone maðþum byreð	Overbearing us, mouthing boasts,
	þone þe ðu mid rihte rædan sceoldest.”	And rigged in armor that by right is yours.”
2060	Manað swa 7 myndgað mæla gehwylce	And so he keeps on, recalling and accusing,
	sarum wordum, oð ðæt sæl cymeð	Working things up with bitter words
	þæt se fæmnan þegn fore fæder dædum	Until one of the lady’s retainers lies
	æfter billes bite blodfag swefeð,	Spattered in blood, split open
	ealdres scyldig. Him se oðer þonan	On his father’s account. The killer knows
175v	losað \|lifigende, con him land geare.	The lie of the land and escaped with his life.
	Þonne bioð brocene on ba healfe	Then on both sides the oath-bound lords
	aðsweord eorla. Syððan Ingelde	Will break the peace, a passionate hate
	weallað wælniðas 7 him wiflufan	Will build up in Ingeld and love for his bride
	æfter cearwælmum colran weorðað.	Will falter in him as the feud rankles.
2070	Þy ic Heaðo-Bearna hyldo ne telge,	I therefore suspect the good faith of the Heathobards,
	dryhtsibbe dæl Denum unfæcne,	The truth of their friendship and the trustworthiness
	freondscipe fæstne. Ic sceal forð sprecan	Of their alliance with the Danes. But now, my lord,
	gen ymbe Grendel, þæt ðu geare cunne,	I shall carry on with my account of Grendel,
	sinces brytta, to hwan syððan wearð	The whole story of everything that happened
2075	hondræs hæleða. Syððan heofones gim	In the hand-to-hand fight. After heaven’s gem
	glad ofer grundas, gæst yrre cwom,	Had gone mildly to earth, that maddened spirit,
	eatol æfengrom user neosan,	The terror of those twilights, came to attack us
	ðær we gesunde sæl weardodon.	Where we stood guard, still safe inside the hall.
	Þær wæs Hondscio hilde onsæge	There deadly violence came down on Handscio
2080	feorhbealu fægum He fyrmest læg,	And he fell as fate ordained, the first to perish,
	gyrded cempa. Him Grendel wearð,	Rigged out for the combat. A comrade from our ranks
	mærum maguþegne, to muðbonan;	Had come to grief in Grendel’s maw:
	leofes mannes lic eall forswealg.	He ate up the entire body.
	No ðy ær ut ða gen idelhende	There was blood on his teeth, he was bloated and furious,
2085	bona blodigtoð, bealewa gemyndig,	All roused up, yet still unready
	of ðam goldsele gongan wolde.	To leave the hall empty-handed;
	Ac he mægnes rof min costode,	Renowned for his might, he matched himself against me,
176r	\| grapode geareofolm. Glof hangode	Wildly reaching. He had this roomy pouch,
	sid 7 syllic, searobendum fæst.	A strange accoutrement, intricately strung
2090	Sio wæs orðoncum eall gegyrwed	And hung at the ready, a rare patchwork
	deofles cræftum 7 dracan fellum.	Of devilishly fitting dragon-skins.
	He mec þær on innan unsynnigne,	I had done him no wrong, yet the raging demon
	dior dædfruma gedon wolde	Wanted to cram me and many another
	manigra sumne. Hyt ne mihte swa,	Into this bag — but it was not to be
2095	syððan ic on yrre upprihte astod.	Once I got to my feet in a blind fury.
	To lang ys to reccenne hu ic ðam leodsceaðan	It would take too long to tell how I repaid
	yfla gehwylces hondlean forgeald.	The terror of the land for every life he took
	Þær ic, þeoden min, þine leode	And so won credit for you, my king,
	weorðode weorcum. He on weg losade	And for all your people. And although he got away
2100	lytle hwile, lifwynna breac.	To enjoy life’s sweetness for a while longer,
	Hwæþre him sio swiðre swaðe weardade	His right hand stayed behind him in Heorot,
	hand on Hiorte, 7 he hean ðonan,	Evidence of his miserable overthrow
	modes geomor, meregrund gefeoll.	As he dived into murk on the mere bottom.
	Me þone wælræs wine Scildunga	“I got lavish rewards from the lord of the Danes
2105	fættan golde fela leanode,	For my part in the battle, beaten gold
	manegum maðmum, syððan mergen com,	And much else, once morning came
	7 we to symble geseten hæfdon.	And we took our places at the banquet table.
176v	Þær wæs gidd 7 gleo. Gomela\| Scilding	There was singing and excitement: an old reciter,
	felafricgende, feorran rehte.	A carrier of stories, recalled the early days.
2110	Hwilum hildedeor hearpan wynne	At times some hero made the timbered harp
	gomelwudu grette; hwilum gyd awræc,	Tremble with sweetness, or related true
	soð 7 sarlic; hwilum syllic spell.	And tragic happenings; at times the king
	Rehte æfter rihte rumheort cyning.	Gave the proper turn to some fantastic tale,
	Hwilum eft ongan, eldo gebunden,	Or a battle-scarred veteran, bowed with age,
2115	gomel guðwiga, gioguðe cwiðan,	Would begin to remember the martial deeds
	hildestrengo. Hreðer inne weoll,	Of his youth and prime and be overcome
	þonne he, wintrum frod, worn gemunde.	As the past welled up in his wintry heart.
	Swa we þær inne andlangne dæg	“We were happy there the whole day long
	niode naman, oð ðæt niht becwom,	And enjoyed our time until another night
2120	oðer to yldum. Þa wæs eft hraðe	Descended upon us. Then suddenly
	gearo gyrnwræce Grendeles modor.	The vehement mother avenged her son
	Siðode sorhfull; sunu deað fornam,	And wrought destruction.“ Death had robbed her;
	wighete Wedra. Wif unhyre	Geats had slain Grendel, so his ghastly dam
	hyre bearn gewræc, beorn acwealde	Struck back and with bare-faced defiance
2125	ellenlice. Þær wæs Æschere,	Laid a man low. Thus life departed
	frodan fyrnwitan feorh uðgenge.	From the sage Aeschere, an elder wise in council.
	Noðer hy hine ne moston, syððan mergen cwom,	But afterwards, on the morning following,
	deaðwerigne Denia leode	The Danes could not burn the dead body
	bronde forbærnan, ne on bel hladan	Nor lay the remains of the man they loved
177r	leofne mannan. \|Hio þæt lic ætbær	On his funeral pyre. She had fled with the corpse
	feondes fæðme under firgenstream.	And taken refuge beneath torrents on the mountain.
	þæt wæs Hroðgare hreowa tornost	It was a hard blow for Hrothgar to bear,
	þara þe leodfruman lange begeate.	Harder than any he had undergone before.
	Þa se ðeoden mec ðine life	And so the heartsore king besought me
2135	healsode hreohmod, þæt ic on holma geþring	In your royal name to take my chances
	eorlscipe efnde, ealdre geneðde,	Underwater, to win glory
	mærðo fremede. He me mede gehet.	And prove my worth. He promised me rewards.
	Ic ða ðæs wælmes, þe is wide cuð,	Hence, as is well known, I went to my encounter
	grimme gryrelicne grundhyrde fond.	With the terror-monger at the bottom of the lake.
2140	Þær unc hwile wæs hand gemæne.	For a while it was hand-to-hand between us,
	Holm heolfre weoll, 7 ic heafde becearf	Then blood went curdling along the currents
	in ðam grundsele Grendeles modor	And I beheaded Grendel’s mother in the hall
	eacnum ecgum. Unsofte þonan	With a mighty sword. I barely managed
	feorh oðferede. Næs ic fæge þa gyt.	To escape with my life; my time had not yet come.
2145	Ac me eorla hleo eft gesealde	But Halfdane’s heir, the shelter of those earls,
	maðma menigeo, maga Healfdenes.”	Again endowed me with gifts in abundance.
{ 31 } XXXI
	“Swa se ðeodkyning þeawum lyfde.	“Thus the king acted with due custom.
	Nealles ic ðam leanum forloren hæfde,	I was paid and recompensed completely,
177v	mægnes mede, ac he me \|maðmas geaf,	Given full measure and the freedom to choose
2150	sunu Healfdenes, on minne sylfes dom.	From Hrothgar’s treasures by Hrothgar himself.
	Đa ic ðe, beorncyning, bringan wylle,	These, King Hygelac, I am happy to present
	estum geywan. Gen is eall æt ðe	To you as gifts. It is still upon your grace
	lissa gelong. Ic lyt hafo	That all favor depends. I have few kinsman
	heafodmaga nefne, Hygelac, ðec.”	Who are close, my king, except for your kind self.”
2155	Het ða in beran eafor heafodsegn,	Then he ordered the boar-framed standard to be brought,
	heaðosteapne helm, hare byrnan,	The battle-topping helmet, the mail-shirt gray as hoar-frost
	guðsweord geatolic. Gyd æfter wræc.	And the precious war-sword; and proceeded with his speech.
	“Me ðis hildesceorp Hroðgar sealde,	“When Hrothgar presented this war-gear to me
	snotra fengel. Sume worde het,	He instructed, my lord, to give you some account
2160	þæt ic his ærest ðe est gesægde;	Of why it signifies his special favor.
	cwæð þæt hyt hæfde Hiorogar cyning,	He said it had belonged to his older brother,
	leod Scyldunga lange hwile.	King Heorogar, who had long kept it,
	No ðy ær suna sinum syllan wolde,	But that Heorogar had never bequeathed it
	hwatum Heorowearde, þeah he him hold wære,	To his son Heoroweard, that worthy scion,
2165	breostgewædu. Bruc ealles well.”	Loyal as he was. Enjoy it well.”
	Hyrde ic þæt þam frætwum feower mearas	I heard four horses were handed over next.
	lungre gelice last weardode,	Beowulf bestowed four bay steeds
	æppelfealuwe. He him est geteah	To go with the armor, swift gallopers,
178r	meara 7 maðma. Swa sceal \| mæg don,	All alike. So ought a kinsman act,
2170	nealles inwitnet oðrum bregdon,	Instead of plotting and planning in secret
	dyrnum cræfte deað renian	To bring people to grief, or conspiring to arrange
	hondgesteallan. Hygelace wæs	The death of comrades. The warrior king
	niða heardum nefa swyðe hold,	Was uncle to Beowulf and honored by his nephew:
	7 gehwæðer oðrum hroþra gemyndig.	Each was concerned for the other’s good.
2175	Hyrde ic þæt he ðone healsbeah Hygde gesealde,	I heard he presented Hygd with a gorget,
	wrætlicne wundurmaððum ðone þe him Wealhðeo geaf,	The priceless torque that the prince’s daughter,
	ðeodnes dohtor, þrio wicg somod	Wealhtheow, had given him; and three horses,
	swancor 7 sadolbeorht. Hyre syððan wæs	Supple creatures, brilliantly saddled.
	æfter beahðege brost geweorðod.	The bright necklace would be luminous on Hygd’s breast.
2180	Swa bealdode, bearn Ecgðeowes,	Thus Beowulf bore himself with valor;
	guma guðum cuð, godum dædum.	He was formidable in battle yet behaved with honor
	Dreah æfter dome, nealles druncne slog	And took no advantage: never cut down
	heorðgeneatas. Næs him hreoh sefa,	A comrade who was drunk, kept his temper
	ac he mancynnes, mæste cræfte,	And, warrior that he was, watched and controlled
2185	ginfæstan gife, þe him God sealde,	His God-sent strength and his outstanding
	heold hildedeor. Hean wæs lange	Natural powers. He had been poorly regarded
	swa hyne Geata bearn godne ne tealdon,	For a long time, was taken by the Geats
	ne hyne on medobence micles wyrðne	For less than he was worth: and their lord too
178v	\| drihten wereda gedon wolde.	Had never much esteemed him in the mead-hall.
2190	Swyðe sægdon, þæt he sleac wære,	They firmly believed that he lacked force,
	æðeling unfrom. Edwenden cwom	That the prince was a weakling; but presently
	tireadigum menn torna gehwylces.	Every affront to his deserving was reversed.
	Het ða eorla hleo in gefetian,	The battle-famed king, bulwark of his earls,
	heaðorof cyning, Hreðles lafe,	Ordered a gold-chased heirloom of Hrethel’s
2195	golde gegyrede. Næs mid Geatum ða	To be brought in; it was the best example
	sincmaðþum selra on sweordes had.	Of a gem-studded sword in the Geat treasury.
	Þæt he on Biowulfes bearm alegde,	This he laid on Beowulf’s lap
	7 him gesealde seofan þusendo,	And then rewarded him with land as well,
	bold 7 bregostol. Him wæs bam samod	Seven thousand hides, and a hall and a throne.
2200	on ðam leodscipe lond gecynde,	Both owned land by birth in that country,
	eard eðelriht, oðrum swiðor	Ancestral ground; but the greater right
	side rice, þam ðær selra wæs.	And sway were inherited by the higher born.
	Eft þæt geiode ufaran dogrum	A lot was to happen in later days
	hildehlæmmum, syððan Hygelac læg,	In the fury of battle. Hygelac fell
2205	7 Hearede hildemeceas	And the shelter of Heardred’s shield proved useless
	under bordhreoðan to bonan wurdon,	Against the fierce aggression of the Shylfings:
	ða hyne gesohtan on sigeþeode,	Ruthless swordsmen, seasoned campaigners,
	hearde hildefrecan, Heaðo-Scilfingas,	They came against him and his conquering nation,
	niða genægdan nefan Hererices,	And with cruel force cut him down
179r	þæt syððan \| Beowulfe brade rice	So that afterwards The wide kingdom
	on hand gehwearf. He geheold tela	Reverted to Beowulf. He ruled it well
	fiftig wintra, wæs ða frod cyning,	For fifty winters, grew old and wise
	eald eþelweard, oð ðæt on ongan	As warden of the land Until one began
	deorcum nihtum draca ricsian,	To dominate the dark, a dragon on the prowl
2215	se ðe on heaðohlæwe hord beweotode,	From the steep vaults of a stone-roofed barrow
	stanbeorh stearcne. Stig under læg	Where he guarded a hoard; there was a hidden passage,
	eldum uncuð. Þær on innan giong	Unknown to men, but someone managed
	niða nathwylc, nyddæl gefeng	To enter by it and interfere
	hæðnum horde, hondgewriþen dæl,	With the heathen trove. He had handled and removed
2220	since fahne. He þæt syððan beget	A gem-studded goblet; it gained him nothing,
	þeah ðe he slæpende. besyred hæfde	Though with a thief’s wiles he had outwitted
	þeofes cræfte, þæt sie ðiod onfand,	The sleeping dragon; that drove him into rage,
	bufolc beornes, þæt he gebolgen wæs.	As the people of that country would soon discover.
{ 32 } XXXII
	Nealles wæs geweoldum wyrmhorda cræft,	The intruder who broached the dragon’s treasure
2225	sylfes willum, se ðe him sare gesceod,	And moved him to wrath had never meant to.
	ac for þreanedlan þeof nathwylces	But out of great distress some thief,
	hæleða bearna heteswengeas fleoh;	Was fleeing the hateful blows of sons of heroes;
	ðær wæs þearfa, 7 ðær inne weall,	There was desperation there, and inside the cave
	secg synbysig, sona onwacede,	The sin-troubled man immediately weakened
2230	þæt gean ðam gyste gryrebroga stod.	As fearsome terror came upon the guest.
179v	Hwæðre fyrensceapen\| [atolan wyrme	However the fugitive
	wræcmon ætwand — him wæs wroht sceapen —	Escaped the horrid reptile (an accusation had been made against him),
	fus on feðe þa hyne] se fær begeat.	Being fleet of gait when danger confronted him.
Note: Verses 2231ff. (MS 179v) in chapter 32 are Klaeber’s (p. 208) hypothetical restoration of the missing words at the beginning of BL 182v.
	Sincfæt sohte þær wæs swylcra fela	He made for the treasure-chalice. At that, there was so much
	in ðam eorðsele ærgestreona,	Ancient treasure in the earth-hall
	swa hy on geardagum gumena nathwylc,	Such as in former days some one of men,
2235	eormenlafe æþelan cynnes,	The great remnants of a noble race,
	þanchycgende þær gehydde,	Being thoughtful, had there hidden
	deore maðmas. Ealle hie deað fornam	Precious jewels. Death had taken them all
	ærran mælum, 7 si an ða gen	In times gone by. And the only one still left,
	leoda duguðe, se ðær lengest hwearf,	Of the flower of the people, who there longest went about,
2240	weard winegeomor, wende þæs yldan,	The watchman mourning his friends, could look forward to nothing
	þæt he lytel fæc longgestreona	But the same fate for himself: he foresaw that his joy
	brucan moste. Beorh eallgearo	In the treasure would be brief. A newly constructed
	wunode on wonge wæteryðum neah,	Barrow stood waiting, on a wide headland
	niwe be næsse, nearocræftum fæst.	Close to the waves, its entryway secured.
2245	Þær on innan bær eorlgestreona	Into it the keeper of the hoard had carried
	hringa hyrde handwyrðne dæl,	All the goods and golden ware
	fættan goldes. Fea worda cwæð:	Worth preserving. His words were few:
	“Heald þu nu, hruse, nu hæleð ne mostan,	“Now, earth, hold what earls once held
	eorla æhta. Hwæt, hyt ær on ðe	And heroes can no more; it was mined from you first
2250	gode begeaton. Guðdeað fornam,	By honorable men. My own people
	feorhbeale frecne, fyrena gehwylcne,	Have been ruined in war; one by one
	leoda minra, þa meðe þis ofgeaf.	They went down to death, looked their last
180r	Gesawon seledreamas. \| Nah, hwa sweord wege	On sweet life in the hall. I am left with nobody
	oððe forð sele fæted wæge,	To bear a sword or burnish plated goblets,
2255	dryncfæt deore. Duguð ellor seoc.	Put a sheen on the cup. The companies have departed.
	Sceal se hearda helm hyrstedgolde	The hard helmet, hasped with gold,
	fætum befeallen. Feormynd swefað,	Will be stripped of its hoops; and the helmet-shiner
	þa ðe beadogriman bywan sceoldon.	Who should polish the metal of the war-mask sleeps;
	Ge swylce seo herepad, sio æt hilde gebad	The coat of mail that came through all fights,
2260	ofer borda gebræc bite irena,	Through shield-collapse and cut of sword,
	brosnað æfter beorne. Ne mæg byrnan hring	Decays with the warrior. Now may webbed mail
	æfter wigfruman wide feran,	Range far and wide on a warlord’s back
	hæleðum be healfe. Næs hearpan wyn,	Beside his mustered troops. No trembling harp,
	gomen gleobeames, ne god hafoc	No tuned timber, no tumbling hawk
2265	geond sæl swingeð, ne se swifta mearh	Swerving through the hall, no swift horse
	burhstede beateð. Bealocwealm hafað	Pawing the courtyard. pillage and slaughter
	fela feorhcynna forð onsended.”	Have emptied the earth of entire peoples.”
	Swa giomormod giohðo mænde	And so he mourned as he moved about the world,
	an æfter eallum, unbliðe hwearf	Deserted and alone, lamenting his unhappiness
2270	dæges 7 nihtes, oð ðæt deaðes wylm	Day and night, until death’s flood
	hran æt heortan. Hordwynne fond,	Brimmed up in his heart. Then an old harrower of the dark
	eald uhtsceaða, opene standan,	Happened to find the hoard open,
	se ðe, byrnende, biorgas seceð.	The burning one who hunts out barrows,
	Nacod niðdraca nihtes fleogeð,	The slick-skinned dragon, threatening the night sky
2275	fyre befangen. Hyne foldbuend,	With streamers of fire. People on the farms
180v	\| swiðe drædað. He gesecean sceall	Are in dread of him. He is driven to hunt out
	hearm on hrusan, þær he hæðen gold	Hoards under ground, to guard heathen gold
	warað wintrum frod. Ne byð him wihte ðy sel.	Through age-long vigils, though to little avail.
	Swa se ðeodsceaða þreo hund wintra	For three centuries, this scourge of the people
2280	heold on hrusan hordærna sum,	Had stood guard on that stoutly protected
	eacencræftig, oð ðæt hyne an abealch,	Underground treasury, until the intruder
	mon on mode. Mandryhtne bær	Unleashed its fury; he hurried to his lord
	fæted wæge, frioðowære bæd	With the gold-plated cup and made his plea
	hlaford sinne. Đa wæs hord rasod,	To be reinstated. Then the vault was rifled,
2285	onboren beaga hord. Bene getiðad	The ring-hoard robbed, and the wretched man
	feasceaftum men. Frea sceawode	Had his request granted. His master gazed
	fira fyrngeweorc. forman siðe.	On that find from the past for the first time.
	Þa se wyrm onwoc, wroht wæs geniwad.	When the dragon awoke, trouble flared again.
	Stonc ða æfter stane, stearcheort onfand	He rippled down the rock, writhing with anger
2290	feondes fotlast. He to forð gestop	When he saw the footprints of the prowler who had stolen
	dyrnan cræfte dracan heafde neah.	Too close to his dreaming head.
	Swa mæg unfæge eaðe gedigan	So may a man not marked by fate
	wean 7 wræcsið se ðe Waldendes	Easily escape exile and woe
	hyldo gehealdeþ. Hordweard sohte	By the grace of God. The hoard-guardian
2295	georne æfter grunde, wolde guman findan,	Scorched the ground as he scoured and hunted
	þone þe him on sweofote sare geteode.	For the trespasser who had troubled his sleep.
181r	Hat 7 hreohmod, \| hlæw oft ymbehwearf	Hot and savage, he kept circling and circling
	ealne utanweardne. Ne ðær ænig mon	The outside of the mound. No man appeared
	on þam westenne, hwæðre hilde gefeh,	In that desert waste, but he worked himself up
2300	beaduweorces. Hwilum on beorh æthwearf,	By imagining battle; then back in he’d go
	sincfæt sohte. He þæt sona onfand,	In search of the cup, only to discover
	ðæt hæfde gumena sum goldes gefandod,	Signs that someone had stumbled upon
	heahgestreona. Hordweard onbad	The golden treasures. The guardian of the mound,
	earfoðlice, oð ðæt æfen cwom.	The hoard-watcher, waited for the gloaming
2305	Wæs ða gebolgen beorges hyrde,	With fierce impatience; his pent-up fury
	wolde se laða lige forgyldan	At the loss of the vessel made him long to hit back
	drincfæt dyre. Þa wæs dæg sceacen	And lash out in flames. Then, to his delight,
	wyrme on willan. No on wealle læg,	The day waned and he could wait no longer
	bidan wolde, ac mid bæle for,	Behind the wall, but hurtled forth
2310	fyre gefysed. Wæs se fruma egeslic	In a fiery blaze. The first to suffer
	leodum on lande, swa hyt lungre wearð	Were the people on the land, but before long
	on hyra sincgifan sare geendod.	It was their treasure-giver who would come to grief.
{ 33 } XXXIII
	ĐA se gæst ongan gledum spiwan,	The dragon began to belch out flames
	beorht hofu bærnan. Bryneleoma stod	And burn bright homesteads; there was a hot glow
2315	eldum on andan. No ðær aht cwices	That scared everyone, for the vile sky-winger
181v	lað lyftfloga læfan \|wolde.	Would leave nothing alive in his wake.
	Wæs þæs wyrmes wig wide gesyne,	Everywhere the havoc he wrought was in evidence.
	nearofages nið nean 7 feorran,	Far and near, the Geat nation
	hu se guðsceaða Geata leode	Bore the brunt of his brutal assaults
2320	hatode 7 hynde. Hord eft gesceat,	And virulent hate. Then back to the hoard
	dryhtsele dyrnne ær dæges hwile.	He would dart before daybreak, to hide in his den.
	Hæfde landwara lige befangen,	He had swinged the land, swathed it in flame,
	bæle 7 bronde. Beorges getruwode,	In fire and burning, and now he felt secure
	wiges 7 wealles. Him seo wen geleah.	In the vaults of his burrow; but his trust was unavailing.
2325	Þa wæs Biowulfe broga gecyðed	Then Beowulf was given bad news,
	snude to soðe, þæt his sylfes ham,	A hard truth: his own home,
	bolda selest, brynewylmum mealt,	The best of buildings, had been burnt to a cinder,
	gifstol Geata. Þæt ðam godan wæs	The throne-room of the Geats. It threw the hero
	hreow on hreðre, hygesorga mæst.	Into deep anguish and darkened his mood:
2330	Wende se wisa þæt he Wealdende	The wise man thought he must have thwarted
	ofer ealde riht ecean Dryhtne	Ancient ordinance of the eternal Lord,
	bitre gebulge. Breost innan weoll	Broken His commandment. His mind was in turmoil,
	þeostrum geþoncum, swa him geþywe ne wæs.	Unaccustomed anxiety and gloom
	Hæfde ligdraca leoda fæsten,	Confused his brain; the fire-dragon
2335	ealond utan, eorðweard ðone	Had razed the coastal region and reduced
	gledum forgrunden. Him ðæs guðkyning,	Forts and earthworks to dust and ashes,
	Wedera þioden, wræce leornode.	So the war-king planned and plotted his revenge.
	Heht him þa gewyrcean, wigendra hleo,	The warriors’ protector, prince of the hall-troop,
	eallirenne, eorla dryhten,	Ordered a marvelous all-iron shield
182r	wigbord wrætlic. \| Wisse he gearwe	From his smithy works. He well knew
	þæt him holtwudu helpan ne meahte,	That linden boards would let him down
	lind wið lige. Sceolde liþenddaga,	And timber burn. After many trials,
	æþeling ærgod, ende gebidan	He was destined to face the end of his days
	worulde lifes, 7 se wyrm somod,	In this mortal world; as was the dragon,
2345	þeah ðe hordwelan heolde lange.	For all his leasehold on the treasure.
	Oferhogode ða hringa fengel	Yet the prince of the rings was too proud
	þæt he þone widflogan weorode gesohte	To line up with a large army
	sidan herge. No he him þam sæcce ondred,	Against the sky-plague. He had scant regard
	ne him þæs wyrmes wig for wiht dyde,	For the dragon as a threat, no dread at all
2350	eafoð 7 ellen, forðon he ær fela	Of its courage or strength, for he had kept going
	nearo neðende niða gedigde,	Often in the past, through perils and ordeals
	hildehlemma, syððan he Hroðgares	Of every sort, after he had purged
	sigoreadig secg, sele fælsode,	Hrothgar’s hall, triumphed in Heorot
	7 æt guðe forgrap Grendeles mægum,	And beaten Grendel. He outgrappled the monster
2355	laðan cynnes. No þæt læsest wæs	And his evil kin. One of his cruelest
	hondgemota, þær mon Hygelac sloh,	Hand-to-hand encounters had happened
	syððan Geata cyning, guðe ræsum,	When Hygelac, king of the Geats, was killed
	freawine folca, Freslondum on,	In Friesland: the people’s friend and lord,
	Hreðles eafora, hiorodryncum swealt,	Hrethel’s son, slaked a sword blade’s
2360	bille gebeaten. Þonan Biowulf com	Thirst for blood. But Beowulf’s prodigious
	sylfes cræfte, sundnytte dreah.	Gifts as a swimmer guaranteed his safety:
182v	Hæfde him on earme \| ealra þritig	He arrived at the shore, shouldering thirty
	hildegeatwa, þa he to holme giong.	Battle-dresses, the booty he had won.
	Nealles Hetware hremge þorfton	There was little for the Hetware to be happy about
2365	feðewiges, þe him foran ongean	As they shielded their faces and fighting on the ground
	linde bæron. Lyt eft becwom	Began in earnest. With Beowulf against them,
	fram þam hildfrecan hames niosan.	Few could hope to return home.
	Oferswam ða sioleða bigong sunu Ecgðeowes,	Across the wide sea, desolate and alone,
	earm anhaga eft to leodum.	The son of Ecgtheow swam back to his people.
2370	Þær him Hygd gebead hord 7 rice,	There Hygd offered him throne and authority
	beagas 7 bregostol. Bearne ne truwode,	As lord of the ring-hoard: with Hygelac dead,
	þæt he wið ælfylcum eþelstolas	She had no belief in her son’s ability
	healdan cuðe. Đa wæs Hygelac dead.	To defend their homeland against foreign invaders.
	No ðy ær feasceafte findan meahton	Yet there was no way the weakened nation
2375	æt ðam æðelinge ænige ðinga,	Could get Beowulf to give in and agree
	þæt he Heardrede hlaford wære,	To be elevated over Heardred as his lord
	oððe þone cynedom ciosan wolde.	Or to undertake the office of kingship.
	Hwæðre he him on folce freondlarum heold,	But he did provide support for the prince,
	estum mid are, oð ðæt he yldra wearð,	Honored and minded him until he matured
2380	Weder-Geatum weold. Hyne wræcmæcgas	As the ruler of Geatland. Then over sea-roads
	ofer sæ sohtan, suna Ohteres.	Exiles arrived, sons of Ohthere.
	Hæfdon hy forhealden helm Scylfinga,	They had rebelled against the best of all
	þone selestan sæcyninga	The sea-kings in Sweden, the one who held sway
	þara ðe ðe in Swiorice sinc brytnade,	In the Shylfing nation, their renowned prince,
183r	mærne \|þeoden. Him þæt to mearce wearð.	Lord of the mead-hall. That marked the end
	He þær orfeorme feorhwunde hleat,	For Hygelac’s son: his hospitality
	sweordes swengum, sunu Hygelaces.	Was mortally rewarded with wounds from a sword.
	7 him eft gewat Ongenðioes bearn	Heardred lay slaughtered and Onela returned
	hames niosan, syððan Heardred læg.	To the land of Sweden, leaving Beowulf
2390	Let ðone bregostol Biowulf healdan,	To ascend the throne, to sit in majesty
	Geatum wealdan. Þæt wæs god cyning.	And rule over the Geats. He was a good king.
{ 34 } XXXIV.
	SE ðæs leodhryres lean gemunde.	In days to come, he contrived to avenge
	Uferan dogrum Eadgilse wearð	The fall of his prince; he befriended Eadgils
	feasceaftum freond. Folce gestepte	When Eadgils was friendless, aiding his cause
2395	ofer sæ side sunu Ohteres,	With weapons and warriors over the wide sea,
	wigum 7 wæpnum. Þæt he gewræc syððan	Sending him men. The feud was settled
	cealdum cearsiðum, cyning ealdre bineat.	On a comfortless campaign when he killed Onela.
	Swa he niða gehwane genesen hæfde,	And so the son of Ecgtheow had survived
	sliðra geslyhta, sunu Ecgðiowes,	Every extreme, excelling himself
2400	ellenweorca, oð ðone anne dæg,	In daring and in danger, until the day arrived
	þe he wið þam wyrme gewegan sceolde.	When he had to come face to face with the dragon.
	Gewat þa, twelfa sum, torne gebolgen,	The lord of the Geats took eleven comrades
	dryhten Geata, dracan sceawian.	And went in a rage to reconnoiter.
	Hæfde þa gefrunen hwanan sio fæhð aras,	By then he had discovered the cause of the affliction
183v	bealonið biorna. Him to bearme \|cwom	Being visited on the people. The precious cup
	maðþumfæt mære, þurh ðæs meldan hond.	Had come to him from the hand of the finder,
	Se wæs on ðam ðreate þreotteoða secg,	The one who had started all this strife
	se ðæs orleges or onstealde,	And was now added as a thirteenth to their number.
	hæft hygegiomor. Sceolde hean ðonon	They press-ganged and compelled this poor creature
2410	wong wisian. He ofer willan giong	To be their guide. Against his will
	to ðæs ðe he eorðsele anne wisse,	He led them to the earth-vault he alone knew,
	hlæw under hrusan holmwylme neh,	An underground barrow near the sea-billows
	yðgewinne. Se wæs innan full	And heaving waves, heaped inside
	wrætta 7 wira. Weard unhiore,	With exquisite metalwork. The one who stood guard
2415	gearo guðfreca goldmaðmas heold,	Was dangerous and watchful, warden of that trove
	eald under eorðan. Næs þæt yðe ceap,	Buried under earth: no easy bargain
	to gegangenne gumena ænigum.	Would be made in that place by any man.
	Gesæt ða on næsse niðheard cyning,	The veteran king sat down on the cliff-top.
	þenden hælo abead heorðgeneatum,	He wished good luck to the Geats who had shared
2420	goldwine Geata. Him wæs geomor sefa,	His hearth and his gold. He was sad at heart,
	wæfre 7 wælfus. Wyrd ungemete neah	Unsettled yet ready, sensing his own death.
	se ðone gomelan gretan sceolde,	His fate hovered near, unknowable but certain:
	secean sawle hord, sundur gedælan	It would soon claim his coffered soul,
	lif wið lice. No þon lange wæs	Part life from limb. Before long
2425	feorh æþelinges flæsce bewunden.	The prince’s spirit would spin free from his body.
	Biowulf maþelade, bearn Ecgðeowes:	Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:
	“Fela ic on gioguðe guðræsa genæs,	“Many a skirmish I survived when I was young
	orleghwila. Ic þæt eall gemon.	And many times of war; I remember them well.
184r	\| Ic wæs syfanwintre þa mec sinca baldor,	At seven, I was fostered out by my father,
2430	freawine folca, æt minum fæder genam.	Left in the charge of my people’s lord.
	Heold mec 7 hæfde Hreðel cyning,	King Hrethel kept me and took care of me,
	geaf me sinc 7 symbel, sibbe gemunde;	Was open-handed, behaved like a kinsman.
	næs ic him to life laðra owihte	While I was his ward, he treated me no worse
	beorn in burgum, þonne his bearna hwylc,	As a wee one about the place than one of his own boys,
2435	Herebeald 7 Hæðcyn oððe Hygelac min.	Herebeald and Haethcyn, or my own Hygelac.
	Wæs þam yldestan ungedefelice	For the eldest, Herebeald, an unexpected
	mæges dædum morþorbed stred,	Deathbed was laid out, through a brother’s doing,
	syððan hyne Hæðcyn of hornbogan,	When Haethcyn bent his horn-tipped bow
	his freawine flane geswencte,	And loosed the arrow that destroyed his life.
2440	miste mercelses 7 his mæg ofscet,	He shot wide and buried a shaft
	broðor oðerne blodigan gare.	In the flesh and blood of his own brother.
	Þæt wæs feohleas gefeoht, fyrenum gesyngad,	That offence was beyond redress, a wrong footing
	hreðre hygemeðe Sceolde hwæðre swa þeah	Of the heart’s affections; for who could avenge
	æðeling unwrecen ealdres linnan.	The prince’s life or pay his death-price?
2445	Swa bið geomorlic gomelum ceorle	It was like the misery felt by an old man
	to gebidanne þæt his byre ride	Who has lived to see his son’s body
	giong on galgan. Þonne he gyd wrece,	Swing on the gallows. He begins to keen
	sarigne sang, þonne his sunu hangað	And weep for his boy, watching the raven
	hrefne to hroðre, 7 he him helpan ne mæg,	Gloat where he hangs: he can be of no help.
2450	eald 7 infrod ænige gefremman.	The wisdom of age is worthless to him.
	Symble bið gemyndgad morna gehwylce,	Morning after morning, he wakes to remember
184v	\| eaforan ellorsið. Oðres ne gymeð	That his child is gone; he has no interest
	to gebidanne burgum in innan	In living on until another heir
	yrfeweardas, þonne se an hafað	Is born in the hall, now that his first-born
2455	þurh deaðes nyd dæda gefondad.	Has entered death’s dominion forever.
	Gesyhð sorhcearig on his suna bure	He gazes sorrowfully at his son’s dwelling,
	winsele westne, windge reste	The banquet hall bereft of all delight,
	reote berofene. Ridend swefað,	The windswept hearthstone; the horsemen are sleeping,
	hæleð in hoðman. Nis þær hearpan sweg,	The warriors underground; what was is no more.
2460	gomen in geardum, swylce ðær iu wæron.”	No tunes from the harp, no cheer raised in the yard.
{ 35 } XXXV
	“GEwiteð þonne on sealman, sorhleoð gæleð,	Alone with his longing, he lies down on his bed
	an æfter anum. Þuhte him eall to rum,	And sings a lament; everything seems too large,
	wongas 7 wicstede. Swa Wedra helm	The farmsteads and the fields. Such was the feeling
	æfter Herebealde heortan sorge,	Of loss endured by the lord of the Geats
2465	weallinde, wæg. Wihte ne meahte	After Herebeald’s death. He was hopelessly placed
	on ðam feorhbonan fæghðe gebetan.	To set to rights the wrong committed,
	No ðy ær he þone heaðorinc hatian ne meahte	Could not punish the killer in accordance of the law
	laðum dædum, þeah him leof ne wæs.	Of the blood-feud, although he felt no love for him.
	He ða mid þære sorhge, þe him sio sar belamp,	Heartsore, wearied, he turned away
2470	gumdream ofgeaf, Godes leoht geceas.	From life’s joys, chose God’s light
	Eaferum læfde, swa deð eadig mon,	And departed, leaving buildings and lands
	lond 7 leodbyrig, þa he of life gewat.	To his sons, as a man of substance will.
185r	Þa \| wæs synn 7 sacu Sweona 7 Geata	“Then over the wide seas Swedes and Geats
	ofer wid wæter wroht gemæne,	Battled and feuded and fought without quarter.
2475	herenið hearda, syððan Hreðel swealt,	Hostilities broke out when Hrethel died.
	oððe him Ongenðeowes eaferan wæran	Ongentheow’s sons were unrelenting,
	frome fyrdhwate. Freode ne woldon	Refusing to make peace, campaigning violently
	ofer heafo healdan, ac ymb Hreosna-Beorh	From coast to coast, constantly setting up
	eatolne inwitscear oft gefremedon.	Terrible ambushes around Hreasnshill.
2480	Þæt mægwine mine gewræcan,	My own kith and kin avenged
	fæhðe 7 fyrene, swa hyt gefræge wæs,	These evil events, as everybody knows,
	þeah ðe oðer his ealdre gebohte	But the price was high: one of them paid
	heardan ceape. Hæðcynne wearð,	With his life. Heathcyn, lord of the Geats,
	Geata dryhtne guð onsæge.	Met his fate there and fell in battle.
2485	Þa ic on morgne gefrægn mæg oðerne	Then, as I have heard, Hygelac’s sword
	billes ecgum on bonan stælan,	Was raised in the morning against Ongentheow,
	þær Ongenþeow Eofores niosað.	His brother’s killer. When Eofor cleft
	Guðhelm toglad, gomela Scylfing	The old Swede’s helmet, halved it open,
	hreas heaþoblac. Hond gemunde	He fell, death-pale: his feud-calloused hand
2490	fæhðo genoge, feorhsweng ne ofteah.	Could not stave off the fatal stroke.
	Ic him þa maðmas, þe he me sealde,	“The treasures that Hygelac lavished on me
	geald æt guðe, swa me gifeðe wæs,	I paid for as I fought, as fortune allowed me,
	leohtan sweorde. He me lond forgeaf,	With my glittering sword. He gave me land
	eard, eðelwyn. Næs him ænig þearf,	And the security land brings, so he had no call
2495	þæt he to Gifðum oððe to Gar-Denum	To go looking for some lesser champion,
	oððe in Swiorice secean þurfe	Some mercenary among the Gifthas
185v	\| wyrsan wigfrecan, weorðe gecypan.	Or the Spear-Danes or the men of Sweden.
	Symle ic him on feðan beforan wolde,	I marched ahead of him, always there
	ana on orde, 7 swa to aldre sceall	At the front of the line; and I shall fight like that
2500	sæcce fremman, þenden þis sweord þolað.	For as long as I live, as long as this sword
	Þæt mec ær 7 sið oft gelæste,	Shall last, which has stood me in good stead
	syððan ic for dugeðum Dæghrefne wearð	Late and soon, ever since I killed
	to handbonan, Huga cempan.	Dayraven the Frank in front of the two armies.
	Nalles he ða frætwe Frescyninge,	He brought back no looted breastplate
2505	breostweorðunge bringan moste,	To the Frisian king, but fell in battle,
	ac in cempan gecrong cumbles hyrde,	Their standard-bearer, high-born and brave.
	æþeling on elne. Ne wæs ecg bona,	No sword blade sent him to his death,
	ac him hildegrap heortan wylmas,	My bare hands stilled his heartbeats
	banhus gebræc. Nu sceall billes ecg,	And wrecked the bone-house. Now blade and hand,
2510	hond 7 heard sweord ymb hord wigan.”	Sword and sword-stroke, will assay the hoard.”
	Beowulf maðelode, beotwordum spræc	Beowulf spoke, made a formal boast
	niehstan siðe: “Ic geneðde fela	For the last time: “I risked my life
	guða on geogoðe; gyt ic wylle,	Often when I was young. Now I am old,
	frod folces weard fæhðe secan,	But as king of this people I shall pursue this fight
2515	mærðum fremman, gif mec se mansceaða	For the glory of winning, if the evil one will only
	of eorðsele ut geseceð.”	Abandon his earth-fort and face me in the open.”
	Gegrette ða gumena gehwylcne,	Then he addressed each dear companion
	hwate helmberend hindeman siðe,	One final time, those fighters in their helmets,
	swæse gesiðas: “Nolde ic sweord beran,	Resolute and high-born: “I would rather not
186r	wæpen to wyrme, \|gif ic wiste hu	Use a weapon if I knew another way
	wið ðam aglæcean elles meahte	To grapple with the dragon and make good my boast
	gylpe wiðgripan, swa ic gio wið Grendle dyde.	As I did against Grendel in days gone by.
	Ac ic ðær heaðufyres hates wene,	But I shall be meeting molten venom
	reðes 7 hattres; forðon ic me on hafu	In the fire he breaths, so I go forth
2525	bord 7 byrnan. Nelle ic beorges weard	In mail-shirt and shield. I won’t shift a foot
	oferfleon fotes trem, ac unc sceal	When I meet the cave-guard: what occurs on the wall
	weorðan æt wealle swa unc wyrd geteoð,	Between the two of us will turn out as fate,
	Metod manna gehwæs. Ic eom on mode from	Overseer of men, decides. I am resolved.
	þæt ic wið þone guðflogan gylp ofersitte.	I scorn further words against this sky-born foe.
2530	Gebide ge on beorge byrnum werede,	“Men at arms, remain here on the barrow,
	secgas on searwum, hwæðer sel mæge	Safe in your armor, to see which one of us
	æfter wælræse wunde gedygan	Is better in the end at bearing wounds
	uncer twega. Nis þæt eower sið,	In a deadly fray. This fight is not yours,
	ne gemet mannes, nefne min anes.”	Nor is it up to any man except me
2535	Wat he wið aglæcean eofoðo dæle,	To measure his strength against the monster
	eorlscype efne. “Ic mid elne sceall	Or to prove his worth. I shall win the gold
	gold gegangan, oððe guð nimeð,	By my courage, or else mortal combat,
	feorhbealu frecne frean eowerne.”	Doom of battle, will bear your lord away.”
	Aras ða bi ronde, rof oretta,	Then he drew himself up beside his shield.
2540	heard under helme, hiorosercean bær	The fabled warrior in his war-shirt and helmet
	under stancleofu, strengo getruwode	Trusted in his own strength entirely
	anes mannes. Ne bið swylc earges sið!	And went under the crag. No coward path.
186v	Geseah ða be wealle, \|se ðe worna fela,	Hard by the rock-face that hale veteran,
	gumcystum god, guða gedigde,	A good man who had gone repeatedly
2545	hildehlemma, þonne hnitan feðan	Into combat and danger and come through,
	stodan stanbogan, stream ut þonan	Saw a stone arch and a gushing stream
	brecan of beorge. Wæs þære burnan wælm	That burst from the barrow, blazing and wafting
	heaðofyrum hat, ne meahte horde neah,	A deadly heat. It would be hard to survive
	unbyrnende, ænige hwile	Unscathed near the hoard, to hold firm
2550	deop gedygan, for dracan lege.	Against the dragon in those flaming depths.
	Let ða of breostum, ða he gebolgen wæs,	Then he gave a shout. The lord of the Geats
	Weder-Geata leod word ut faran;	Unburdened his breast and broke out
	stearcheort styrmde. Stefn in becom,	In a storm of anger. Under gray stone
	heaðotorht hlynnan under harne stan.	His voice challenged and resounded clearly.
2555	Hete wæs onhrered, hordweard oncniow	Heat was ignited. The hoard-guard recognized
	mannes reorde. Næs ðær mara fyrst	A human voice, the time was over
	freode to friclan. From ærest cwom	For peace and parleying. Pouring forth
	oruð aglæcean ut of stane,	In a hot battle-fume, the breath of the monster
	hat hildeswat. Hruse dynede.	Burst from the rock. There was a rumble underground.
2560	Biorn under beorge bordrand onswaf	Down there in the barrow, Beowulf the warrior
	wið ðam gryregieste Geata dryhten.	Lifted his shield: the outlandish thing
	Đa wæs hringbogan heorte gefysed	Writhed and convulsed and viciously
	sæcce to seceanne. Sweord ær gebræd	Turned on the king, whose keen-edged-sword,
	god guðcyning, gomele lafe,	And heirloom inherited by ancient right,
2565	ecgum ungleaw. Æghwæðrum wæs	Was already in his hand. Roused to a fury,
187r	bealohycgendra \| broga fram oðrum.	Each antagonist struck terror in the other.
	Stiðmod gestod wið steapne rond,	Unyielding, the lord of his people loomed
	winia bealdor, ða se wyrm gebeah	By his tall shield, sure of his ground,
	snude tosomne. He on searwum bad.	While the serpent looped and unleashed itself.
2570	Gewat ða byrnende gebogen scriðan	Swaddled in flames, it came gliding and flexing
	to gescipe scyndan. Scyld wel gebearg	And racing toward its fate. Yet his shield defended
	life 7 lice læssan hwile	The renowned leader’s life and limb
	mærum þeodne þonne his myne sohte,	For a shorter time than he meant it to:
	ðær he þy fyrste forman dogore	That final day was the first time
2575	wealdan moste, swa him wyrd ne gescraf	When Beowulf fought and fate denied him
	hreð æt hilde. Hond up abræd	Glory in battle. So the king of the Geats
	Geata dryhten, gryrefahne sloh	Raised his hand and struck hard
	Incgelafe, þæt sio ecg gewac,	At the enameled scales, but hardly cut through:
	brun on bane, bat unswiðor	The blade flashed and slashed yet the blow
2580	þonne his ðiodcyning þearfe hæfde,	Was far less powerful than the hard-pressed king
	bysigum gebæded. Þa wæs beorges weard	Had need of at the moment. The hoard-keeper
	æfter heaðuswenge on hreoum mode.	Went into a spasm and spouted deadly flames:
	Wearp wælfyre; wide sprungon	When he felt the stroke, battle-fire
	hildeleoman. Hreðsigora ne gealp	Billowed and spewed. Beowulf was foiled
2585	goldwine Geata. Guðbill geswac,	Of a glorious victory. The glittering sword,
	nacod æt niðe, swa hyt no sceolde,	Infallible before that day,
	iren ærgod. Ne wæs þæt eðe sið,	Failed when he unsheathed it, as it never should have.
	þæt se mæra maga Ecgðeowes	For the son of Ecgtheow, it was no easy thing
	grundwong þone ofgyfan wolde.	To have to give ground like that and go
2590	Sceolde willan wic eardian	Unwillingly to inhabit another home
187v	elles hwergen, swa \| sceal æghwylc mon	In a place beyond; so every man must yield
	alætan lændagas. Næs ða long to ðon,	The leasehold of his days. Before long
	þæt ða aglæcean hy eft gemetton.	The fierce contenders clashed again.
	Hyrte hyne hordweard, hreðer æðme weoll,	The hoard-guard took heart, inhaled and swelled up
2595	niwan stefne. Nearo ðrowode,	And got a new wind; he who had once ruled
	fyre befongen, se ðe ær folce weold.	Was furled in fire and had to face the worst.
	Nealles him on heape handgesteallan,	No help or backing was to be had then
	æðelinga bearn, ymbe gestodon	From his high-born comrades; that hand-picked troop
	hildecystum, ac hy on holt bugon,	Broke ranks and ran for their lives
2600	ealdre burgan. Hiora in anum weoll	To the safety of the wood. But within one heart
	sefa wið sorgum. Sibb æfre ne mæg	Sorrow welled up: in a man of worth
	wiht onwendan, þam ðe wel þenceð.	The claims of kinship cannot be denied.
{ 36 } XXXVI
	WIGlaf wæs haten, Weoxstanes sunu,	His name was Wiglaf, a son of Weohstan’s,
	leoflic lindwiga, leod Scylfinga,	A well-regarded Shylfing warrior
2605	mæg Ælfheres. Geseah his mondryhten	Related to Aelfhere. When he saw his lord
	under heregriman hat þrowian.	Tormented by the heat of his scalding helmet,
	Gemunde ða ða are þe he him ær forgeaf,	He remember the bountiful gifts he bestowed on him,
	wicstede weligne Wægmundinga,	How well he lived among the Waegmundings,
	folcrihta gehwylc, swa his fæder ahte.	The freehold he inherited from his father before him.
2610	Ne mihte ða forhabban, hond rond gefeng,	He could not hold back: one hand brandished
	geolwe linde, gomelswyrd geteah.	The yellow-timbered shield, the other drew his sword —
	Þæt wæs mid eldum Eanmundes laf.	An ancient blade that was said to have belonged
188r	\| Suna Ohtere þam æt sæcce wearð	To Eanmund, the son of Ohthere, the one
	wræcca wineleasum, Weohstan se bana,	Weohstan had slain when he was in exile without friends.
2615	meces ecgum, 7 his magum ætbær	He carried the arms to the victim’s kinfolk,
	brunfagne helm, hringde byrnan,	The burnished helmet, the webbed chain-mail
	ealdsweord etonisc. Þæt him Onela forgeaf,	And that relic of the giants. But Onela retuned
	his gædelinges guðgewædu,	The weapons to him, rewarded Weohstan
	fyrdsearo fuslic. No ymbe ða fæhðe spræc,	With Eanmund’s war-gear. He ignored the blood-feud,
2620	þeah ðe he his broðor bearn abredwade.	The fact that Eanmund was his brother’s son.
	He frætwe geheold fela missera,	Weohstan kept that war-gear for a lifetime,
	bill 7 byrnan, oð ðæt his byre mihte	The sword and the mail-shirt, until it was the son’s turn
	eorlscipe efnan swa his ærfæder.	To follow his father and perform his part.
	Geaf him ða mid Geatum guðgewæda,	Then, in old age, at the end of his days
2625	æghwæs unrim, þa he of ealdre gewat,	Among the Weather-Geats, he bequeathed to Wiglaf
	frod on forðweg. Þa wæs forma sið	Innumerable weapons. And now the youth
	geongan cempan, þæt he guðe ræs	Was to enter the line of battle with his lord,
	mid his freodryhtne fremman sceolde.	His first time to be tested as a fighter.
	Ne gemealt him, se modsefa, ne his mægenes laf	His spirit did not break and the ancestral blade
2630	gewac æt wige. Þa se wyrm onfand,	Would keep its edge, as the dragon discovered
	syððan hie togædre gegan hæfdon.	As soon as they came together in combat.
	Wiglaf maðelode, wordrihta fela	Sad at heart, addressing his companions,
	sægde gesiðum. Him wæs sefa geomor.	Wiglaf spoke wise and fluent words:
188v	“Ic ðæt \|mæl geman, þær we medu þegun,	“I remember that time when the mead was flowing,
2635	þonne we geheton ussum hlaforde	How we pledged loyalty to our lord in the hall,
	in biorsele, ðe us ðas beagas geaf,	Promised our ring-giver we would be worth our price,
	þæt we him ða guðgetawa gyldan woldon,	Make good the gift of the war-gear,
	gif him þyslicu þearf gelumpe,	Those swords and helmets, as and when
	helmas 7 heard sweord. Đe he usic on herge geceas	His need required it. He picked us out
2640	to ðyssum siðfate sylfes willum.	From the army deliberately, honored us and judged us
	Onmunde usic mærða, 7 me þas maðmas geaf,	Fit for this action, made me these lavish gifts —
	þe he usic garwigend gode tealde,	And all because he considered us the best
	hwate helmberend, þeah ðe hlaford us	Of his arms-bearing thanes. And now, although
	þis ellenweorc ana aðohte	He wanted this challenge to be the one he’d face
2645	to gefremmanne, folces hyrde,	By himself alone — the shepherd of our land,
	forðan he manna mæst mærða gefremede,	A man unequalled in the quest for glory
	dæda dollicra. Nu is se dæg cumen	And a name for daring — now the day has come
	þæt ure mandryhten mægenes behofað	When this lord we serve needs sound men
	godra guðrinca. Wutun gongan to	To give him their support. Let us go to him,
2650	helpan hildfruman, þenden hyt sy,	Help our leader through the hot flame
	gledegesa grim. God wat on mec	And dread of the fire. As God is my witness,
	þæt me is micle leofre, þæt minne lichaman	I would rather my body were robbed in the same
	mid minne goldgyfan gled fæðmie.	Burning blaze as my gold-giver’s body
	Ne þynceð me gerysne, þæt we rondas beren	Than go back home bearing arms.
2655	eft to earde, nemne we æror mægen	That is unthinkable, unless we have first
189A (197)r	fane gefyllan, \| feorh ealgian	Slain the foe and defended the life
	Wedra ðeodnes. Ic wat geare,	Of the prince of the Weather-Geats. I well know
	þæt næron ealdgewyrht, þæt he ana scyle	That things he has done for us deserve better.
	Geata duguðe gnorn þrowian,	Should he alone be left exposed
2660	gesigan æt sæcce. Urum sceal sweord 7 helm,	To fall in battle? We must bond together,
	byrne 7 byrduscrud bam gemæne.”	Shield and helmet, mail-shirt and sword.’
	Wod þa þurh þone wælrec, wigheafolan bær	Then he waded the dangerous slaughter-smoke and went
	frean on fultum. Fea worda cwæð:	Under arms to his lord, saying only:
	“Leofa Biowulf, læst eall tela,	“Go on, dear Beowulf, do everything
2665	swa ðu on geoguðfeore geara gecwæde,	You said you would when you were still young
	þæt ðu ne alæte be ðe lifigendum	And vowed you would never let your name and fame
	dom gedreosan. Scealt nu dædum rof,	Be dimmed while you lived. Your deeds are famous
	æðeling anhydig, ealle mægene,	So stay resolute, my lord, defend your life now
	feorh ealgian. Ic ðe fullæstu.”	With the whole of your strength. I shall stand by you.”
2670	Æfter ðam wordum wyrm yrre cwom,	After those words, a wildness rose
	atol inwitgæst oðre siðe,	In the dragon again and drove it to attack,
	fyrwylmum fah fionda niosian	Heaving up fire, hunting for enemies,
	laðra manna. Ligyðum for,	The humans it loathed. Flames lapped the shield,
	born bord wið rond. Byrne ne meahte	Charred it to the boss, and the body armor
2675	geongum garwigan geoce gefremman,	On the young warrior was useless to him.
	ac se maga geonga under his mæges scyld	But Wiglaf did well under the wide rim
	elne geeode, þa his agen wæs	Beowulf shared with him once his own had shattered
	gledum forgrunden. Þa gen guðcyning	In sparks and ashes. Inspired again
	miht gemunde, mægenstrengo sloh	By the thought of glory, the war-king threw
2680	hildebille, þæt hyt on heafolan stod	His whole strength behind a sword-stroke
	niþe genyded. Nægling forbærst,	And connected with the skull. And Naegling snapped.
	geswac æt sæcce sweord Biowulfes	Beowulf’s ancient iron-gray sword
189A (197)v	\| gomol 7 grægmæl. Him þæt gifeðe ne wæs,	Let him down in the fight. It was never his fortune
	þæt him irenna ecge mihton	To be helped in combat by the cutting-edge
2685	helpan æt hilde. Wæs sio hond to strong,	Of weapons made of iron. When he yielded a sword,
	se ðe meca gehwane mine gefræge	No matter how blooded and hard-edged the blade
	swenge ofersohte. Þonne he to sæcce bær	His hand was too strong, the stroke he dealt
	wæpen wundum heard; næs him wihte ðe sel.	(I have heard) would ruin it. He could reap no advantage.
	Þa wæs þeodsceaða þriddan siðe,	Then the bane of that people, the fire-breathing dragon,
2690	frecne fyrdraca fæhða gemyndig,	Was mad to attack for a third time.
	ræsde on ðone rofan, þa him rum ageald,	When a chance came, he caught the hero
	hat 7 heaðogrim, heals ealne ymbefeng	In a rush of flame and clamped sharp fangs
	biteran banum. He geblodegod wearð	Into his neck. Beowulf’s body
	sawuldriore. Swat yðum weoll.	Ran wet with his life-blood: it came welling out.
{ 37 } XXXVII
2695	ĐA ic æt þearfe gefrægn þeodcyninges	Next thing, they say, the noble son of Weohstan
	andlongne eorl ellen cyðan,	Saw the king in danger at his side
	cræft 7 cenðu, swa him gecynde wæs.	And displayed his inborn bravery and strength.
	Ne hedde he þæs heafolan, ac sio hand gebarn	He left the head alone, but his fighting hand
	modiges mannes, þær he his mægenes healp,	Was burned when he came to his kinsman’s aid.
2700	þæt he þone niðgæst nioðor hwene sloh,	He lunged at the enemy lower down
	secg on searwum, þæt ðæt sweord gedeaf,	So that his decorated sword sank into its belly
	fah 7 fæted; þæt ðæt fyr ongon	And the flames grew weaker. Once again the king
	sweðrian syððan. Þa gen sylf cyning	Gathered his strength and drew a stabbing knife
	geweold his gewitte, wællseaxe gebræd	He carried on his belt, sharpened for battle.
2705	biter 7 beaduscearp, þæt he on byrnan wæg.	He stuck it deep into the dragon’s flank.
189r	Forwrat Wedra \| helm wyrm on middan.	Beowulf dealt it a deadly wound.
	Feond gefyldan, ferh ellen wræc,	They had killed the enemy, courage quelled his life;
	7 hi hyne þa begen abroten hæfdon,	That pair of kinsmen, partners in nobility,
	sibæðelingas. Swylc sceolde secg wesan,	Had destroyed the foe. So every man should act,
2710	þegn æt ðearfe. Þæt ðam þeodne wæs	Be at hand when needed; but now, for the king,
	siðas sigehwile sylfes dædum	This would be the last of his many labors
	worlde geweorces. Đa sio wund ongon,	And triumphs in the world. Then the wound
	þe him se eorðdraca ær geworhte,	Dealt by the ground-burner earlier began
	swelan 7 swellan. He þæt sona onfand	To scald and swell; Beowulf discovered
2715	þæt him on breostum bealonið weoll,	Deadly poison suppurating inside him,
	attor on innan. Đa se æðeling giong,	Surges of nausea, and so, in his wisdom,
	þæt he bi wealle wishycgende	The prince realized his state and struggled
	gesæt on sesse. Seah on enta geweorc	Towards a seat on the rampart. He steadied his gaze
	hu ða stanbogan stapulum fæste	On those gigantic stones, saw how the earthwork
2720	ece eorðreced innan healden.	Was braced with arches built over columns.
	Hyne þa mid handa heorodreorigne,	And now that thane unequalled for goodness
	þeoden mærne, þegn ungemete till	With his own hands washed his lord’s wounds,
	winedryhten his wætere gelafede,	Swabbed the weary prince with water,
	hilde sædne, 7 his helm onspeon.	Bathed him clean, unbuckled his helmet.
2725	Biowulf maþelode. He ofer benne spræc,	Beowulf spoke: in spite of his wounds,
	wunde wælbleate. Wisse he gearwe	Mortal wounds, he still spoke
	þæt he dæghwila gedrogen hæfde,	For he well knew his days in the world
	eorðan wynne. Đa wæs eall sceacen	Had been lived out to the end: his allotted time
	dogorgerimes, deað ungemete neah:	Was drawing to a close, death was very near.
2730	“Nu ic suna minum syllan wolde	“Now is the time when I would have wanted
	guðgewædu, þær me gifeðe swa	To bestow this armor on my own son,
189v	ænig yrfe\|weard æfter wurde	Had it been my fortune to have fathered an heir
	lice gelenge. Ic ðas leode heold	And live on in his flesh. For fifty years
	fiftig wintra. Næs se folccyning	I ruled this nation. No king
2735	ymbesittendra ænig ðara	Of any neighboring clan would dare
	þe mec guðwinum gretan dorste,	Face me with troops, none had the power
	egesan ðeon. Ic on earde bad	To intimidate me. I took what came,
	mælgesceafta, heold min tela,	Cared for and stood by things in my keeping,
	ne sohte searoniðas, ne me swor fela	Never fomented quarrels, never
2740	aða on unriht. Ic ðæs ealles mæg	Swore to a lie. All this consoles me,
	feorhbennum seoc, gefean habban,	Doomed as I am and sickening for death;
	forðam me witan ne ðearf Waldend fira	Because of my right way, the Ruler of Mankind
	morðorbealo maga, þonne min sceaceð	Need never blame me when the breath leaves my body
	lif of lice. Nu ðu lungre geong	For murder of kinsmen. Go now quickly,
2745	hord sceawian under harne stan,	Dearest Wiglaf, under the gray stone
	Wiglaf leofa. Nu se wyrm ligeð,	Where the dragon is laid out, lost to his treasure;
	swefeð sare wund, since bereafod.	Hurry to feast your eyes on the hoard.
	Bio nu on ofoste, þæt ic ærwelan,	Away you go: I want to examine
	goldæht ongite, gearo sceawige	That ancient gold, gaze my fill
2750	swegle searogimmas, þæt ic ðy seft mæge	On those garnered jewels; my going will be easier
	æfter maððumwelan min alætan	For having seen the treasure, a less troubled letting-go
	lif 7 leodscipe, þone ic longe heold.”	Of the life and lordship I have long maintained.”
{ 38 } XXXVIII
	ĐA ic snude gefrægn sunu Wihstanes,	And so, I have heard, the son of Wihstan
	æfter wordcwydum wundum dryhtne,	Quickly obeyed the command of his languishing
2755	hyran heaðosiocum, hringnet beran,	War-weary lord; he went in his chain-mail
	brogdne beadusercean, under beorges hrof.	Under the rock-piled roof of the barrow,
	Geseah ða sigehreðig, þa he bi sesse geong,	Exulting in his triumph, and saw beyond the seat
190r	magoþegn \| modig, maððumsigla fealo,	A treasure-trove of astonishing richness,
	gold glitinian grunde getenge,	Wall-hangings that were a wonder to behold,
2760	wundur on wealle, 7 þæs wyrmes denn,	Glittering gold spread across the ground,
	ealdes uhtflogan, orcas stondan,	The old dawn-scorching serpent’s den
	fyrnmanna fatu feormendlease,	Packed with goblets and vessels of the past,
	hyrstum behrorene. Þær wæs helm monig	Tarnished and corroding. Rusty helmets
	eald 7 omig, earmbeaga fela	All eaten away. Armbands everywhere,
2765	searwum gesæled. Sinc eaðe mæg,	Artfully wrought. How easily treasure
	gold on grunde, gumcynnes gehwone	Buried in the ground, gold hidden
	oferhigian, hyde se ðe wylle.	However skillfully, can escape from any man!
	Swylce he siomian geseah segn eallgylden,	And he saw too a standard, entirely of gold,
	heah ofer horde, hondwundra mæst,	Hanging high over the hoard,
2770	gelocen leoðocræftum. Of ðam leoman stod,	A masterpiece of filigree; it glowed with light
	þæt he þone grundwong ongitan meahte,	So he could make out the ground at his feet
	wræce giondwlitan: næs ðæs wyrmes þær	And inspect the valuables. Of the dragon there was no
	onsyn ænig, ac hyne ecg fornam.	Remaining sign: the sword had dispatched him.
	Đa ic on hlæwe gefrægn hord reafian,	Then, the story goes, in the mound, this one man
2775	eald enta geweorc anne mannan.	Plundered the hoard, the old work of giants,
	Him on bearm hlodon bunan 7 discas.	laded upon his bosom flagons and plates,
	Sylfes dome segn eac genom,	Anything he wanted; and took the standard also,
	beacna beorhtost. Bill ær gescod —	Most brilliant of banners. Already the blade
	ecg wæs iren ealdhlafordes -	Of the old king’s sharp killing-sword
2780	þam ðara maðma mundbora wæs	Had done its worst: the one who had for long
	longe hwile. Ligegesan wæg	Minded the hoard, hovering over gold,
	hatne for horde, hioroweallende	Unleashing fire, surging forth
190v	middelnihtum, \| oð þæt he morðre swealt.	Midnight after midnight, had been mown down.
	Ar wæs on ofoste, eftsiðes georn,	Wiglaf went quickly, keen to get back,
2785	frætwum gefyrðred. Hyne fyrwet bræc,	Excited by the treasure. Anxiety weighed
	hwæðer collenferð cwicne gemette	On his brave heart — he was hoping he would find
	in ðam wongstede, Wedra þeoden	The leader of the Geats alive where he had left him
	ellensiocne, þær he hine ær forlet.	Helpless, earlier, on the open ground.
	He ða mid þam maðmum mærne þioden,	So he came to the place, carrying the treasure,
2790	dryhten sinne, driorigne fand,	And found his lord bleeding profusely,
	ealdres æt ende. He hine eft ongon	His life at an end: again he began
	wæteres weorpan, oð þæt wordes ord	To swab his body. The beginnings of an utterance
	breosthord þurhbræc.	Broke out from the king’s breast-cage.
	Gomel on giogoðe gold sceawode.	The old lord gazed sadly at the gold.
2795	“Ic ðara frætwa Frean ealles ðanc,	“To the everlasting Lord of All,
	Wuldurcyninge wordum secge,	To the King of Glory, I give thanks
	ecum Dryhtne, þe ic her on starie,	That I beheld this treasure here in front of me,
	þæs ðe ic moste minum leodum	That I have been allowed to leave my people
	ær swyltdæge swylc gestrynan.	So well endowed on the day I die.
2800	Nu ic on maðma hord minne bebohte	Now that I have bartered my last breath
	frode feorhlege. Fremmað gena	To own this fortune, it is up to you
	leoda þearfe. Ne mæg ic her leng wesan.	To look after their needs. I can hold out no longer.
	Hatað heaðomære hlæw gewyrcean	Order my troop to construct a barrow
	beorhtne æfter bæle, æt brimes nosan.	On a headland on the coast, after my pyre has cooled.
2805	Se scel to gemyndum minum leodum	It will loom in the horizon at Hronesness
	heah hlifian on hrones næsse,	And be a reminder among my people —
	þæt hit sæliðend syððan hatan	So that in coming times crews under sail
	Biowulfes Biorh, ða ðe brentingas	Will call it Beowulf’s barrow, as they steer
191r	ofer \| floda genipu feorran drifað.”	Ships across the wide and shrouded waters.”
2810	Dyde him of healse hring gyldenne,	Then the king in his great-heartedness unclasped
	þioden þristhydig, þegne gesealde,	The collar of gold from his neck and gave it
	geongum garwigan, goldfahne helm,	To the young thane, telling him to use
	beah 7 byrnan, het hyne brucan well:	It and the war shirt and the gilded helmet well.
	“Þu eart endelaf usses cynnes,	“You are the last of us, the only one left
2815	Wægmundinga. Ealle wyrd forspeoft	Of the Waegmundings. Fate swept us away,
	mine magas to metodsceafte,	Sent my whole brave high-born clan
	eorlas on elne. Ic him æfter sceal.”	To their final doom. Now I must follow them.”
	Þæt wæs þam gomelan gingæste word	That was the warrior’s last word
	breostgehygdum, ær he bæl cure,	He had no more to confide. The furious heat
2820	hate heaðowylmas. Him of hwæðre gewat	Of the pyre would assail him. His soul fled from his breast
	sawol secean soðfæstra dom.	To its destined place among the steadfast ones.
{ 39 } [XXXIX]
	Đa wæs gegongen guman unfrodum	It was hard then on the young hero,
	earfoðlice, þæt he on eorðan geseah	Having to watch the one he held so dear
	þone leofestan lifes æt ende	There on the ground, going through
2825	bleate gebæran. Bona swylce læg,	His death agony. The dragon from underearth,
	egeslic eorðdraca ealdre bereafod,	His nightmarish destroyer, lay destroyed as well,
	bealwe gebæded. Beahhordum leng	Utterly without life. No longer would his snake folds
	wyrm wohbogen wealdan ne moste,	Ply themselves to safeguard hidden gold.
	ac him irenna ecga fornamon,	Hard-edged blades, hammered out
2830	hearde heaðoscearde homera lafe,	And keenly filed, had finished him
	þæt se widfloga, wundum stille,	So that the sky-roamer lay there rigid,
	hreas on hrusan hordærne neah.	Brought low beside the treasure-lodge.
191v	Nalles \| æfter lyfte lacende hwearf	Never again would he glitter and glide
	middelnihtum, maðmæhta wlonc,	And show himself off in midnight air,
2835	ansyn ywde, ac he eorðan gefeoll	Exulting in his riches: he fell to earth
	for ðæs hildfruman hondgeweorce.	Through the battle-strength in Beowulf’s arm.
	Huru þæt on lande lyt manna ðah	There were few, indeed, as far as I have heard,
	mægenagendra, mine gefræge,	Big and brave as they may have been,
	þeah ðe he dæda gehwæs dyrstig wære,	Few who would have held out if they had had to face
2840	þæt he wið attorsceaðan oreðe geræsde,	The outpourings of that poison-breather
	oððe hringsele hondum styrede,	Or gone foraging on the ring-hall floor
	gif he wæccende weard onfunde	And found the deep barrow-dweller
	buon on beorge. Biowulfe wearð	On guard and awake. The treasure had been won,
	dryhtmaðma dæl, deaðe forgolden.	Bought and paid for by Beowulf’s death.
2845	Hæfde æghwæðre ende gefered	Both had reached the end of the road
	lænan lifes. Næs ða lang to ðon,	Through the life they had been lent. Before long
	þæt ða hildlatan holt ofgefan,	The battle-dodgers abandoned the wood,
	tydre treowlogan, tyne ætsomne,	The ones who had let down their lord earlier,
	ða ne dorston ær dareðum lacan	The tail-turners, ten of them together.
2850	on hyra mandryhtnes miclan þearfe.	When he needed them the most, they had made off.
	Ac hy scamiende scyldas bæran,	Now they were ashamed and came behind shields,
	guðgewædu, þær se gomela læg.	In their battle-outfits, to where the old man lay.
	Wlitan on Wilaf. He gewergad sæt,	They watched Wiglaf, sitting worn out,
	feðecempa frean eaxlum neah.	A comrade shoulder to shoulder with his lord,
2855	Wehte hyne wætre - him wiht ne speow.	Trying in vain to bring him round with water.
	Ne meahte he on eorðan, ðeah he uðe wel,	Much as he wanted to, there was no way
	on ðam frumgare feorh gehealdan,	He could preserve his lord’s life on earth
	ne ðæs Wealdendes wiht oncirran.	Or alter in the least the Almighty’s will.
192r	Wolde dom \| Godes dædum rædan	What God judged right would rule what happened
2860	gumena gehwylcum, swa he nu gen deð.	To every man, as it does to this day.
	Þa wæs æt ðam geongum grim andswaru	Then a stern rebuke was bound to come
	eðbegete, þam ðe ær his elne forleas.	From the young warrior to the ones who had been cowards.
	Wiglaf maðelode, Weohstanes sunu,	Wiglaf, son of Weohstan, spoke
	sec sarigferð. Seah on unleofe:	Disdainfully and in disappointment:
2865	“Þæt, la, mæg secgan se ðe wyle soð specan,	“Anyone ready to admit the truth
	þæt se mondryhten, se eow ða maðmas geaf,	Will surely realize the lord of men
	eoredgeatwe, þe ge þær on standað,	Who showered you with gifts and gave you the armor
	þonne he on ealubence oft gesealde	You are standing in — when he would distribute
	healsittendum, helm 7 byrnan,	Helmets and mail-shirts to men on the mead-benches,
2870	þeoden his þegnum swylce he þrydlicost	A prince treating his thanes in hall
	ower feor oððe neah findan meahte,	To the best he could find, far or near —
	þæt he genunga guðgewædu	Was throwing weapons uselessly away.
	wraðe forwurpe, ða hyne wig beget.	It would be a sad waste when the war broke out.
	Nealles folccyning fyrdgesteallum	Beowulf had little cause to brag
2875	gylpan þorfte; hwæðre him God uðe,	About his armed guard; yet God who ordains
	sigora Waldend, þæt he hyne sylfne gewræc,	Who wins or loses allowed him to strike
	ana mid ecge, þa him wæs elnes þearf.	With his own blade when bravery was needed.
	Ic him lifwraðe lytle meahte	There was little I could do to protect his life
	ætgifan æt guðe, 7 ongan swa þeah	In the heat of the fray, yet I found new strength
2880	ofer min gemet mæges helpan.	Welling up when I went to help him.
	Symle wæs þy sæmra þonne ic sweorde drep,	Then my sword connected and the deadly assaults
	ferhðgeniðlan, fyr unswiðor	Of our foe grew weaker, the fire coursed
	weoll of gewitte. wergendra to lyt	Less strongly from his head. But when the worst happened
192v	þrong ymbe þeoden, þa hyne sio \| þrag becwom.	Too few rallied around the prince.
2885	Hu sceal sincþego 7 swyrdgifu,	“So it is goodbye now to all you know and love
	eall eðelwyn eowrum cynne,	On your home-ground, the open-handedness,
	lufen alicgean. Londrihtes mot	The giving of war-swords. Every one of you
	þære mægburge monna æghwylc	With freeholds of land, our whole nation,
	idel hweorfan, syððan æðelingas	Will be dispossessed, once princes from beyond
2890	feorran gefricgean fleam eowerne,	Get tidings of how you turned and fled
	domleasan dæd. Deað bið sella	And disgraced yourselves. A warrior will sooner
	eorla gehwylcum þonne edwitlif.”	Die than live a life of shame.”
{ 40 } XL
	Heht ða þæt heaðoweorc to hagan biodan,	Then he ordered the outcome of the fight to be reported
	up ofer ecgclif, þær þæt eorlweorod	To those camped on the ridge, that crowd of retainers
2895	morgenlongne dæg modgiomor sæt,	Who had sat all morning, sad at heart,
	bordhæbbende, bega on wenum,	Shield-bearers wondering about
	endedogores 7 eftcymes	The man they loved: would this day be his last
	leofes monnes. Lyt swigode	Or would he return. He told the truth
	niwra spella, se ðe næs gerad,	And did not balk, the rider who bore
2900	ac he soðlice sægde ofer ealle:	News to the cliff-top. He addressed them all:
	“Nu is wilgeofa Wedra leoda,	“Now the people’s pride and love,
	dryhten Geata, deaðbedde fæst,	The lord of the Geats, is laid on his deathbed,
	wunað wælreste wyrmes dædum.	Brought down by the dragon’s attack.
	Him on efn ligeð ealdorgewinna	Beside him lies the bane of his life,
2905	siexbennum seoc. Sweorde ne meahte	Dead from knife-wounds. There was no way
	on ðam aglæcean ænige þinga	Beowulf could manage to get the better
	wunde gewyrcean. Wiglaf siteð	Of the monster with his sword. Wiglaf sits
	ofer Biowulfe, byre Wihstanes,	At Beowulf’s side, the son of Wihstan,
	eorl ofer oðrum unlifigendum,	The living warrior watching by the dead,
193r	healdeð higemæðum \| heafodwearde	Keeping weary vigil, holding a wake
	leofes 7 laðes. Nu ys leodum wen	For the loved and the loathed. Now war is looming
	orleghwile syððan underne	Over our nation, soon it will be known
	Froncum 7 Frysum, fyll cyninges	To Franks and Frisians, far and wide,
	wide weorðeð. Wæs sio wroht scepen	That the king is gone. Hostility has been great
2915	heard wið Hugas, syððan Higelac cwom	Among the Franks since Hygelac sailed forth
	faran flotherge on Fresna land.	At the head of a war-fleet into Friesland:
	Þær hyne Hetware hilde gehnægdon,	There the Hetware harried and attacked
	elne geeodon mid ofermægene,	And overwhelmed him with great odds.
	þæt se byrnwiga bugan sceolde.	The leader in his war-gear was laid low,
2920	Feoll on feðan. Nalles frætwe geaf,	Fell amongst followers; that lord did not favor
	ealdor dugoðe Us wæs a syððan	His company with spoils. The Merovingian king
	Merewioingas milts ungyfeðe.	Has been an enemy to us ever since.
	Ne ic te Sweoðeode sibbe oððe treowe	“Nor do I expect peace of pact-keeping
	wihte ne wene, ac wæs wide cuð	Of any sort from the Swedes. Remember:
2925	þætte Ongenðio ealdre besnyðede	At Ravenswood, Ongentheow
	Hæðcen Hreþling wið Hrefnawudu,	Slaughtered Haethcyn, Hrethel’s son,
	þa for onmedlan ærest gesohton	When the Geat people in their arrogance
	Geata leode Guð-Scilfingas.	First attacked the fierce Shylfings.
	Sona him se froda fæder Ohtheres,	The return blow was quickly struck
2930	eald 7 egesfull, hondslyht ageaf,	By Ohthere’s father. Old and terrible,
	abreot brimwisan, bryd aheorde,	He felled the sea-king and saved his own
	gomela iomeowlan golde berofene,	Aged wife, the mother of Onela
	Onelan modor 7 Ohtheres.	And of Ohthere, bereft of her gold rings.
	7 ða folgode feorhgeniðlan,	Then he kept hard on the heels of the foe
2935	oð ðæt hi oðeodon earfoðlice,	And drove them, leaderless, lucky to get away,
	in Hrefnesholt hlafordlease.	In a desperate route to Ravenswood.
	Besæt ða sinherge sweorda lafe,	His army surrounded the weary remnant
193v	wundum werge. \|Wean oft gehet	Where they nursed their wounds; all through the night
	earmre teohhe ondlonge niht,	He howled threats at those huddled survivors,
2940	cwæð, he on mergenne meces ecgum	Promises to axe their bodies open
	getan wolde sum on galgtreowum	When dawn broke, dangle them from gallows
	feðan to gamene. Frofor eft gelamp	To feed the birds. But at first light
	sarigmodum somod ærdæge,	When their spirits were lowest, relief arrived.
	syððan hie Hygelaces horn 7 byman	They heard the sound of Hygelac’s horn,
2945	gealdor ongeaton, þa se goda com	His trumpet calling as he came to find them,
	leoda dugoðe on last faran.	The hero in pursuit, at hand with troops.
{ 41 } XLI.
	Wæs sio swatswaðu Swona 7 Geata,	“The bloody swathe that Swedes and Geats
	wælræs weora, wide gesyne.	Cut through each other was everywhere.
	Hu ða folc mid him fæhðe towehton!	No one could miss their murderous feuding.
2950	Gewat him ða se goda mid his gædelingum,	Then the old man made his move,
	frod, felageomor, fæsten secean.	Pulled back, barred his people in:
	Eorl Ongenþio ufor oncirde,	Ongentheow withdrew to higher ground.
	hæfde Higelaces hilde gefrunen,	Hygelac’s pride and prowess as a fighter
	wlonces wigcræft. Wiðres ne truwode,	Were known to the earl; he had no confidence
2955	þæt he sæmannum onsacan mihte,	That he could hold out against that horde of seamen,
	heaðoliðendum hord forstandan,	Defend wife and the ones he loved
	bearn 7 bryde. Beah eft þonan	From the shock of the attack. He retreated for shelter
	eald under eorðweall. Þa wæs æht boden	Behind the earth wall. Then Hygelac swooped
	Sweona leodum, segn Higelace.	On the Swedes at bay, his banners swarmed
2960	Freoðowong þone ford ofereodon,	Into their refuge, the Geat forces
	syððan Hreðlingas to hagan þrungon.	Drove forward to destroy the camp.
	Þær wearð Ongenðiow ecgum, sweordum,	There in his gray hairs, Ongentheow
	blondenfexa on bid wrecen,	Was cornered, ringed around with swords.
	þæt se þeodcyning ðafian sceolde	And it came to pass that the king’s fate
194r	Eafores \| anne dom. Hyne yrringa	Was in Eofor’s hands, and in his alone.
	Wulf Wonreðing wæpne geræhte,	Wulf, son of Wonred, went for him in anger,
	þæt him for swenge swat ædrum sprong	Split him open so that blood came spurting
	forð under fexe. Næs he forht swa ðeh,	From under his hair. The old hero
	gomela Scilfing, ac forgeald hraðe	Still did not flinch, but parried fast,
2970	wyrsan wrixle wælhlem þone,	Hit back with a harder stroke:
	syððan ðeodcyning þyder oncirde.	The king turned and took him on.
	Ne meahte se snella sunu Wonredes	Then Wonred’s son, the brave Wulf,
	ealdum ceorle hondslyht giofan,	Could land no blow against the aged lord.
	ac he him on heafde helm ær gescer,	Ongentheow divided his helmet
2975	þæt he blode fah bugan sceolde.	So that he buckled and bowed his bloodied head
	Feoll on foldan. Næs he fæge þa git,	And dropped to the ground. But his doom held off.
	ac he hyne gewyrpte, þeah ðe him wund hrine.	Though he was cut deep, he recovered again.
	Let se hearda Higelaces þegn	“With his brother down, the undaunted Eofor,
	— brade mece þa his broðor læg —	Hygelac’s thane, hefted his sword
2980	ealdsweord eotonisc entiscne helm	And smashed murderously at the massive helmet
	brecan ofer bordweal. Đa gebeah cyning,	Past the lifted shield. And the king collapsed,
	folces hyrde wæs in feorh dropen.	The shepherd of people was sheared of life.
	Đa wæron monige þe his mæg wriðon,	“Many then hurried to help Wulf,
	ricone arærdon, ða him gerymed wearð,	Bandaged and lifted him, now that they were left
2985	þæt hie wælstowe wealdan moston.	Masters of the blood-soaked battleground.
	Þenden reafode rinc oðerne,	One warrior stripped the other,
	nam on Ongenðio irenbyrnan,	Looted Ongentheow’s iron mail-coat,
	heard swyrd hilted, 7 his helm somod.	His hard sword-hilt, his helmet too,
	Hares hyrste Higelace bær.	And carried the armor to King Hygelac;
2990	He ðam frætwum feng 7 him fægre gehet	He accepted the prize, promised fairly
194v	leana mid \| leodum, 7 gelæste swa.	That reward would come, and kept his word.
	Geald þone guðræs, Geata dryhten,	For their bravery in action, when they arrived home
	Hreðles eafora, þa he to ham becom,	Eofor and Wulf were overloaded
	Iofore 7 Wulfe mid ofermaðmum.	By Hrethel’s son, Hygelac the Geat,
2995	Sealde hiora gehwæðrum hund þusenda	With gifts of land and linked rings
	landes 7 locenra beaga ne ðorfte him	That were worth a fortune. They had won glory,
	ða lean oðwitan mon on middangearde	So there was no gainsaying his generosity.
	syððan hie ða maran mærða geslogon.	And he gave Eofor his only daughter
	7 ða Iofore forgeaf angan dohtor,	To bide at home with him, an honor and a bond.
3000	hamweorðunge, hyldo to wedde.	“So this bad blood between us and the Swedes,
	Þæt ys sio fæhðo 7 se feondscipe,	This vicious feud, I am convinced,
	wælnið wera, ðæs ðe ic wen hafo,	Is bound to revive; they will cross our borders
	þe us seceað to Sweona leoda,	And attack in force once they find out
	syððan hie gefricgeað frean userne	That Beowulf is dead. In days gone by
3005	ealdorleasne, þone ðe ær geheold	When our warriors fell and we were undefended
	wið hettendum hord 7 rice,	He kept our coffers and our kingdoms safe.
	æfter hæleða hryre, hwate Scildingas,	After the fall of heroes he ruled the valiant Scyldings,
	folcred fremede, oððe furður gen	He accomplished the good of his people. And even further yet
	eorlscipe efnde. Me is ofost betost,	practised valor. For me it is best for us to hurry
3010	þæt we þeodcyning þær sceawian,	And there look upon our powerful king,
	7 þone gebringan, þe us beagas geaf,	And launch him who gave us ring-presents
	on adfære. Ne scel anes hwæt	On the funeral path. Nor shall any single thing alone
	meltan mid þam modigan, ac þær is maðma hord,	melt with the bold prince, but there is a hoard of treasures,
	gold unrime, grimme geceapod,	Gold unnumbered, gruesomely purchased ;
3015	7 nu æt siðestan sylfes feore	And now at last with his own life
	beagas gebohte. Þa sceall brond fretan,	he has bought the rings which the fire shall devour,
195r	æled þeccean, \| nalles eorl wegan	the flame cover, and no earl at all wear
	maððum to gemyndum, ne mægð scyne	the treasure for a memorial, nor fair maiden —
	habban on healse hringweorðunge,	have the dignity of rings upon her neck ;
3020	ac sceal, geomormod, golde bereafod,	but, sad of mood, despoiled of gold,
	oft, nalles æne, elland tredan.	they shall often, not once alone, tread foreign lands,
	Nu se herewisa hleahtor alegde	Now that their leader’s laugh is silenced,
	gamen 7 gleodream. Forðon sceall gar wesan	His mirth and joyful merriment quenched. Many a spear
	monig morgenceald, mundum bewunden,	Dawn-cold to the touch will be taken down
3025	hæfen on handa; nalles hearpan sweg	And waved on high; the melody of the harp
	wigend weccean, ac se wonna hrefn,	Won’t waken warriors, but the raven winging
	fus ofer fægum, fela reordian,	Darkly over the doomed will say a lot,
	earne secgan hu him æt æte speow,	To the eagle about how he prospered at eating,
	þenden he wið wulf wæl reafode.”	While he with the wolf was wasting the slain.”
3030	Swa se secg hwata secggende wæs	Such was the drift of the dire report
	laðra spella. He ne leag fela	That gallant man delivered. He got little wrong
	wyrda ne worda. Weorod eall aras.	In what he told and predicted. The whole troop
	Eodon unbliðe under earna næs,	Rose in tears, then took their way
	wollenteare, wundur sceawian.	To the uncanny scene under Earnaness.
3035	Fundon ða on sande sawulleasne,	There, on the sand, where his soul had left him,
	hlimbed healdan, þone þe him hringas geaf	They found him at rest, their ring-giver
	ærran mælum. Þa wæs endedæg	From days gone by. The great man
	godum gegongen, þæt se guðcyning,	Had breathed his last. Beowulf the King
	Wedra þeoden, wundordeaðe swealt.	Had indeed met with a marvelous death.
3040	Ær hi þær gesegan syllicran wiht,	But what they saw first was far stranger:
	wyrm on wonge wiðerræhtes þær,	The serpent on the ground, gruesome and vile,
	laðne licgean. Wæs se legdraca	Lying facing him. The fire-dragon
195v	grimlic gryregist \|gledum beswæled.	Was scaresomely burnt, scorched all colors.
	Se wæs fiftiges fotgemearces	From head to tail, his entire length
3045	lang on legere. Lyftwynne heold	Was fifty feet. He had shimmered forth
	nihtes hwilum, nyðer eft gewat	On the night air once, then winged back
	dennes niosian. Wæs ða deaðe fæst,	Down to his den; but death owned him now,
	hæfde eorðscrafa ende genyttod.	He would never enter his earth-gallery again.
	Him big stodan bunan 7 orcas,	Beside him stood pitchers and piled-up dishes,
3050	discas lagon 7 dyre swyrd,	Silent flagons, precious swords
	omige, þurhetone, swa hie wið eorðan fæðm	Eaten through with rust, ranged as they had been
	þusend wintra þær eardodon.	While they waited their thousand winters underground.
	Þonne wæs þæt yrfe, eacencræftig,	That huge cache, gold inherited
	iumonna gold, galdre bewunden,	From an ancient race, was under a spell —
3055	þæt ðam hringsele hrinan ne moste,	Which meant no one was ever permitted
	gumena ænig, nefne God sylfa,	To enter the king-hall unless God himself,
	sigora Soðcyning sealde þam ðe he wolde	Mankind’s Keeper, True King of Triumphs,
	He is manna gehyld hord openian,	Allowed some person pleasing him —
	efne swa hwylcum manna swa him gemet ðuhte.	And in his eyes worthy — to open the hoard.
{ 42 } XLII.
3060	Þa wæs gesyne þæt se sið ne ðah	What came about brought to nothing
	þam ðe unrihte inne gehydde	The hopes of the one who had wrongly hidden
	wræce under wealle. Weard ær ofsloh	Riches under the rock face. First the dragon slew
	feara sumne. Þa sio fæhð gewearð	That man among men, who in turn made fierce amends
	gewrecen wraðlice. Wundur hwar þonne	And settled the feud. Famous for his deeds
3065	eorl ellenrof ende gefere	A warrior may be, but it remains a mystery
	lifgesceafta, þonne leng ne mæg,	Where his life will end, when he may no longer
	mon mid his mægum, meduseld buan.	Dwell in the mead-hall among his own.
196r	Swa wæs Biowulfe, \| þa he biorges weard	So it was with Beowulf, when he faced the cruelty
	sohte, searoniðas. Seolfa ne cuðe	And cunning of the mound-guard. He himself was ignorant
3070	þurh hwæt his worulde gedal weorðan sceolde.	Of how his departure from the world would happen.
	Swa hit oð domes dæg diope benemdon	The high-born chiefs who had buried the treasure
	þeodnas mære, þa ðæt þær dydon,	Declared it until doomsday so accursed
	þæt se secg wære synnum scildig,	That whoever robbed it would be guilty of wrong
	hergum geheaðerod, hellbendum fæst,	And grimly punished for his transgression,
3075	wommum gewitnad, se ðone wong strude.	Hasped in hell-bonds in heathen shrines.
	Næs he goldhwæte, gearwor hæfde	Yet Beowulf’s gaze at the gold treasure
	Agendes est ær gesceawod.	When he first saw it had not been selfish.
	Wiglaf maðelode, Wihstanes sunu:	Wiglaf, son of Wihstan, spoke:
	“Oft sceall eorl monig, anes willan,	“Often when one man follows his own will
3080	wræc adreogan, swa us geworden is.	Many are hurt. This happened to us.
	Ne meahton we gelæran leofne þeoden,	Nothing we advised could ever convince
	rices hyrde, ræd ænigne,	The prince we loved, our land’s guardian,
	þæt he ne grette goldweard þone,	Not to vex the custodian of the gold,
	lete hyne licgean þær he longe wæs,	Let him lie where he was long accustomed,
3085	wicum wunian oð woruldende.	Lurk there under the earth until the end of the world.
	Heold on heahgesceap. Hord ys gesceawod,	He held to his high destiny. The hoard is laid bare,
	grimme gegongen. Þæt gifeðe wæs	But at a grave cost; it was too cruel a fate
	to swið þe ðone þyder ontyhte.	That forced the king to that encounter.
	Ic wæs þær inne 7 þæt eall geondseh,	I have been inside and seen everything
3090	recedes geatwa, þa me gerymed wæs,	Amassed in the vault. I managed to enter
	nealles swæslice sið alyfed,	Although no great welcome awaited me
	inn under eorðweall. Ic on ofoste gefeng	Under the earth wall. I quickly gathered up
	micle mid mundum, mægenbyrðenne	A huge pile of the priceless treasures
196v	hordgestreona, hider \| ut ætbær	Handpicked from the hoard and carried them here
3095	cyninge minum. Cwico wæs þa gena,	Where the king could see them. He was still himself,
	wis 7 gewittig. Worn eall gespræc,	Alive, aware, and in spite of his weakness
	gomol on gehðo, 7 eowic gretan het,	He had many requests. He wanted me to greet you
	bæd þæt ge geworhton æfter wines dædum	And order the building of a barrow that would crown
	in bælstede beorh þone hean,	The site of his pyre, serve as his memorial,
3100	micelne 7 mærne, swa he manna wæs	In a commanding position, since of all men
	wigend weorðfullost wide geond eorðan,	To have lived and thriven and lorded it on earth
	þenden he burhwelan brucan moste.	His worth and due as a warrior were the greatest.
	Uton nu efstan oðre siðe	Now let us again go quickly
	seon 7 secean on searogeþræc	And feast our eyes on that amazing fortune
3105	wundur under wealle. Ic eow wisige,	Heaped under the wall. I will show the way
	þæt ge genoge neon sceawiað	And take you close to those coffers packed with rings
	beagas 7 brad gold. Sie sio bær gearo,	And bars of gold. Let a bier be made
	ædre geæfned, þonne we ut cymen,	And got ready quickly when we come out
	7 þonne geferian frean userne,	And then let us bring the body of our lord,
3110	leofne mannan, þær he longe sceal	The man we loved, to where he will lodge
	on ðæs Waldendes wære geþolian.”	For a long time in the care of the Almighty.”
	Het ða gebeodan, byre Wihstanes,	Then Wihstan’s son, stalwart to the end,
	hæle hildedior, hæleða monegum	Had orders given to owners of dwellings,
	boldagendra, þæt hie bælwudu	Many people of importance in the land,
3115	feorran feredon, folcagende	To fetch wood from far and wide
	godum togenes: “Nu sceal gled fretan	For the good man’s pyre. “Now shall flame consume
	weaxan wonna leg wigena strengel,	Our leader in battle, the blaze darken
	þone ðe oft gebad isernscure,	Round him who stood his ground in the steel-hail,
	þonne stræla storm, strengum gebæded,	When the arrow-storm shot from bowstrings
3120	scoc ofer scildweall. Sceft nytte heold,	Pelted from the shield-wall. The shaft hit home.
	fæðergearwum fus, flane fulleode.”	Feather-fledged, it finned the barb in flight.”
	Huru se snotra sunu Wihstanes	Next the wise son of Wihstan
198r	acigde of corðre \| cyniges þegnas,	Called from among the king’s thanes
	syfone tosomne, þa selestan.	A group of seven: he selected the best
3125	Eode eahta sum under inwithrof.	And entered with them, the eighth of their number,
	Hilderinc sum on handa bær	Under the God-cursed roof; one raised
	æledleoman. se ðe on orde geong.	A lighted torch and led the way.
	Næs ða on hlytme, hwa þæt hord strude,	No lots were cast for who should loot the hoard
	syððan orwearde ænigne dæl	For it was obvious to them that every bit of it
3130	secgas gesegon on sele wunian,	Lay unprotected within the vault,
	læne licgan. Lyt ænig mearn	There for the taking. It was no trouble
	þæt hi ofostlice ut geferedon	To hurry to work and haul out
	dyre maðmas. Dracan ec scufun,	The priceless store. They pitched the dragon
	wyrm ofer weallclif, leton weg niman,	Over the cliff top, let tide’s flow
3135	flod fæðmian frætwa hyrde.	And backwash take the treasure-minder.
	Þæt wæs wundengold on wæn hladen,	Then coiled gold was loaded on a cart
	æghwæs unrim, æþelinge boren,	In great abundance, and the gray-haired leader,
	harum hilde, to hrones næsse.	The prince of his bier, born to Hronesness.
{ 43 } XLIII
	Him ða gegiredan, Geata leode,	The Geat people built a pyre for Beowulf,
3140	ad on eorðan unwaclicne,	Stacked and decked it until it stood four-square,
	helmum behongen, hildebordum,	Hung with helmets, heavy war-shields
	beorhtum byrnum, swa he bena wæs.	And shining armor, just as he had ordered.
	Alegdon ða tomiddes mærne þeoden,	Then his warriors laid him in the middle of it,
	hæleð hiofende, hlaford leofne.	Mourning a lord far-famed and beloved.
3145	Ongunnon þa on beorge bælfyra mæst,	On a height they kindled the hugest of all
	wigend weccan. Wudurec astah,	Funeral fires; fumes of wood smoke
	sweart ofer swioðole, swogende let,	Billowed darkly up, the blaze roared
	wope bewunden. Windblond gelæg,	And drowned out their weeping, wind died down
	oð þæt he ða banhus gebrocen hæfde	And flames wrought havoc in the hot bone-house,
3150	hat on hreðre. Higum unrote	Burning it to the core. They were disconsolate
	modceare mændon, mondryhtnes cwealm.	And wailed aloud for their lord’s decease.
198v	Swylce giomorgyd \|Geatisc anmeowle,	A Geat woman too sang out in grief:
	næs bliðheorte, bundenheorde,	With hair bound up, she unburdened herself
	sang sorgcearig sælðe geneahhe	Of her worst fears, a wild litany
3155	þæt hio hyre heregængas hearde ondrede,	Of nightmare and lament: her nation invaded,
	wælfylla worn, werudes egesan,	Enemies on the rampage, bodies in piles,
	hyðo 7 hæftnyd. Heofon rece swealg.	Slavery and abasement. Heaven swallowed the smoke.
	Geworhton ða Wedra leode	Then the Geat people began to construct
	hlæo on hoe, se wæs heah 7 brad,	A mound on a headland, high and imposing,
3160	wægliðendum wide gesyne,	A marker that sailors could see from far away,
	7 betimbredon on tyn dagum,	And in ten days they had done the work.
	beadurofes becn, bronda lafe.	It was their hero’s memorial; what remained from fire
	Wealle beworhton, swa hyt weorðlicost	They housed inside it, behind a wall
	foresnotre men findan mihton.	As worthy of him as their workmanship could make it.
3165	Hi on beorg dydon beg 7 siglu,	And they buried torques in the barrow, and jewels
	eall swylce hyrsta, swylce on horde ær	And a trove of such things as trespassing men
	niðhedige men genumen hæfdon.	Had once dared to drag from the hoard.
	Forleton eorla gestreon eorðan healdan,	They let the ground keep that ancestral treasure,
	gold on greote, þær hit nu gen lifað	Gold under gravel, gone to earth,
3170	eldum swa unnyt swa hyt æror wæs.	As useless to men now as it ever was.
	Þa ymbe hlæw riodan, hildedeore	Then twelve warriors rode around the tomb,
	æþelinga bearn, ealra twelfa,	Chieftain’s sons, champions in battle,
	woldon care cwiðan, kyning mænan,	All of them distraught, chanting in dirges,
	wordgyd wrecan, 7 ymb wer sprecan.	Mourning his loss as a man and a king.
3175	Eahtodan eorlscipe 7 his ellenweorc	They extolled his heroic exploits
	duguðum demdon, swa hit gedefe bið	And gave thanks for his greatness; which was the proper thing,
	þæt mon his winedryhten wordum herge,	For a man should praise a prince whom he holds dear
	ferhðum freoge, þonne he forð scile	And cherish his memory when that moment comes
	of lichaman læded weorðan.	When he has to be convoyed from his bodily home.
3180	Swa begnornodon Geata leode	So the Geat people, his hearth companions,
	hlafordes hryre, heorðgeneatas.	Sorrowed for the lord who had been laid low.
	Cwædon þæt he wære wyruldcyning,	They said that of all the kings upon the earth
	manna mildust 7 monðwærust,	He was the man most gracious and fair-minded,
	leodum liðost, 7 lofgeornost.	Kindest to his people and keenest to win fame.

->> >> >>⇈⇑⇈<< << <<-

Deus vult !	— Brian Regan ( Inscriptio electronica : Brennus@brennus.bluedomino.com )
	Dies immutationis recentissimæ : die Martis, 2016 Aprilis 5

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