BEOWULF

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

B urton R a ffel

AFTERWORD BY

R obert P . C reed

©
A SIGNET CLASSIC
SIGNET CLASSIC
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Introduction copyright © Burton Raffel, 1963
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For B rian an d B lake
 C ontents

INTRODUCTION BY BURTON R a FFEL

ix

BEOW ULF
23

AFTERWORD BY ROBERT P . CREED

123

GLOSSARY OF NAMES
149

GENEALOGIES
160
 Introduction

No one knows when Beowulf was composed, or by whom,

or why. A single manuscript managed to survive Henry
VUI’s dissolution of the monasteries, and the destruction
of their great libraries; since his name is written on one
of the folios, Lawrence Nowell, the sixteenth-century
scholar, may have been responsible for Beow ulfs preser­
vation. The manuscript is a copy, in two distinct hand­
writings: how many other copies existed, or how close
to the original this particular version was, will probably
never be known. Indeed, since careless binding, plus an
unfortunate fire in 1731, led in the course of time to seri­
ous deterioration of the manuscript, some words in Beo­
wulf are known only from two transcripts made, in 1786—
1787, by the Danish scholar Thorkelin. Other words, and
lines, had either crumbled away before Thorkelin saw the
manuscript, or are simply missing, or are incomplete; gaps
have to be filled in by guesswork—and sometimes by ultra­
violet photography.
But we do have the poem, and we are remarkably lucky
to have it: not only is it unique, the sole survivor of what
may have been a thriving epic tradition, but it is great
x Introduction

poetry. Approached as an archaeological relic, it is fasci­

nating. Taken as a linguistic docum ent, it is a marvel, a
m ine of revelations and controversies. It gives us vital
inform ation about Old English social life and about Old
English politics and about m any things that scholars
would like to have m uch more inform ation on. But Beo­
w ulf’s position as a great poem m ust rem ain prim ary;
the other purposes it serves are im portant but peripheral
to this central fact of sheer literary m erit.
It is essentially an aristocratic poem, concerned with
kings and kingship:
. . . He ruled
Lands on all sides: wherever the sea
Would take them his soldiers sailed, returned
With tribute and obedience. There was a brave
King!.
( 8- 12)

Strength and courage are basic virtues for both followed

and follower. But where the follower’s overriding com­
mitment is to loyalty, the king’s position is more complex.
. . . A king
Bom, entrusted with ancient treasures
And cities full of stronghearted soldiers,
His vanity swelled him so vile and rank
That he could hear no voices but his own. He deserved
To suffer and die.. . .
(908-913)

Thus Hermod is described, a king indisputably brave, in­

contestably strong, b u t unable to balance the require­
m ents o f absolute obedience w ith generosity and con­
cern for his people’s welfare, unable to sim ultaneously
lead and sustain his soldiers. The poet immediately con­
trasts this savage brute, who would descend to drunken
rages and kill his closest com panions, with Beowulf,
 Introduction xi

“ a prince well-loved, follow ed in friendship, not fear.”

The poem was com posed in England perhaps four
centuries before the N orm an C onquest A nd this England
o f roughly the eighth century a.d ., as reflected in social
patterns ascribed to sixth-century G eats and Danes and
Swedes, is rigidly feudal, highly civilized and highly vio­
lent, and rather newly Christian. Layers of m orality and
tenderness and piety are interm ixed, in Beowulf, w ith the
glorification o f w ar, death, and fam e; such hum drum
occupations as farm ing, fishing (except for sport: see lines
1432-1441), and the care and feeding o f both adults and
children are all denigrated, casually, when they are m en­
tioned a t all. Slavery is taken for granted: when a slave
accompanies Beow ulf and his m en to the dragon’s waste­
land den, the poet does no t include him in the count.
There were twelfa sum, Beowulf and eleven others, we are
to ld in line 2401, b u t 5 lines further on the poet adds that
a þreotteoS a secg, a “thirteenth m an” —the slave—was
also w ith them . The im portant tools, in this poem, are
weapons: proven swords and helm ets are handed down,
from father to son, like the vital treasures they were.
Swords have personalities, and nam es; servants o f course
have neither.
M uch o f the poem is rum inative rather than, as m ight
be expected, m ore narrow ly narrative. B eow ulf’s three
com bats, with G rendel, G rendel’s m other, and the drag­
on, occupy a surprisingly sm all p art o f the epic. As in the
cerem onial wrestling o f Japan, prelim inaries—speeches,
advice, rem iniscences—are fully as im portant as actual
fighting, and take longer in the telling. The poet can
capture a battle scene w ith magnificent skill and vividness:
Then the monster charged again, vomiting
Fire, wild with pain, rushed out
Fierce and dreadful, its fear forgotten.
Watching for its chance it drove its tusks
Into Beowulf’s neck; he staggered, the blood
Came flooding forth, fell like rain.
(2688-2693)
xii Introduction

And there can be no question o f the relish w ith which

warfare is contem plated, its dom inant role in this; mascu­
line-dom inated society:
. . . No female, no matter
How fierce, could have come with a man’s strength,
Fought with the power and courage men fight with,
Smashing their shining swords, their bloody,
Hammer-forged blades onto boar-headed helmets,
Slashing and stabbing with the sharpest of points.
( 1282- 1287)

But the significance o f battle, rather than its bare facts,

is what grips the poet. He is interested in w hat makes a
good fighter tick, w hat makes a hero heroic; he looks
inside the minds o f both good m en and evil monsters:
. . . Grendel
Saw that his strength was deserting him, his daws
Bound fast, Higlac’s brave follower tearing at
His hands. The njonster’s hatred rose higher,
But his power had gone. He twisted in p a in . . .
(811-815)

W hen Beowulf takes up the sword, “ham m ered by

giants,” which will give him victory over G rendel's
mother, the poet’s description is basically an internalized
one—though the action is not neglected:
. . . savage, now, angry
And desperate, [he] lifted it high over his head
And struck with all the strength he had left. . .
(1563-1565)

It is God who grants Beowulf victory, b u t only after he is

“back on his feet and fighting.” The good fighter, the
hero, the m an who wins that m ost precious o f all treas­
ures, fame, is the m an who never gives up, and who does
 Introduction xiii

not w orry about th e p o sáb le consequences o f bravery:

. . . So fame
Comes to the men who mean to win it
And care about nothing else!. . .
(1534-1536)

N or does it ever leave the hero, this driving will for glory:

. . . I am old, now,
But I will fight again, seek fame still. . .
(2512-2513)

. . . But the brave old Swede

Felt no fear: he quickly returned
A better blow than he'd gotten, faced
Toward W ulf and struck him savagely.. . .
(2967-2970)

Perhaps the m ost striking exam ple o f the perspective

from which die poet sees battle, the context o f values into
which he constandy tries to fit it, is the clim ax o f the fight
w ith the dragon. Beowulf, w eakened by tim e and age, is
being slowly b u t surely beaten—“a king, before, but now
a beaten w arrior." H is other com rades desert him , but
W iglaf stands w atching, to m w ith indecision. A bout ten
lines are given to his doubts (and his lineage). Then:

. . . W iglafs
Mind was made up; he raised his yellow
Shield and drew his sw ord. . .
(2608-2610)
B eow ulf is in agony, "w rapped aro u n d in sw irling
flam es," and the decision to go to his aid has been taken;
the sword is draw n, th e shield raised, and what follows?
A lunge a t the dragon, a scene o f desperate combat? N ot
a t alL The poet stops (by our standards) in m idstream ,
xiv Introduction

gives us first twenty lines about W iglafs sword and how

his father won it in battle, then another thirty lines o f
reproach for the cowards who had deserted their king in
his tim e o f need, and then, only then, resum es the ac­
tion. A t that, W iglaf manages to m ake a final eight-line
speech o f encouragement as he goes diving "through the
dragon’s deadly fumes," running to Beow ulf's side. The
b attle scene, trip artite now , is well w orth w aiting for;
the point is th at for the poet no battle is simply men hack­
ing a t each other (or a t m onsters o f various descriptions).
B attle is a way o f life, a necessary function o f the w orthi­
est members o f society. Kings, and warriors generally
(samurai), are the successful m en o f the tim e, the corpo­
ration presidents, the space explorers, and the movie
stars. They are people to be know n about, to be emu­
lated, but not blindly, n o t only because they are success­
ful (death being the suprem e product o f their occupa­
tion). Theirs is die good and the true path; in their words,
their thoughts, and their deeds they are the embodiment
o f the Anglo-Saxon way o f life.
This m orality, bom o f its tim e and its circumstances
exactly as our belief in elections and m ultiple (and op­
posing) philosophies o f governm ent is bom o f our tim e
and our circumstances, does not sound particularly Chris­
tian. A nd yet the poem is full o f C hristian sentim ents,
joined w ith or superim posed onto this m ore or less pagan
code o f battle-heroism -kingship (shared w ith the Danes
and the Swedes and peoples all across Europe). E arly
students o f Beowulfsometimes doubted th at a single hand
had com posed the poem , m uch as early students o f
Hom er doubted th a t "H om er" had ever existed, as a
single hum an b rain in a single hum an body. It seems
fairly clear, however—and I myself have no doubt—that
Beowulf is the work o f one m an and that its author was
a Christian.
. . . the poet’s d ear songs, sung
Of the andent beginnings of us all, recalling
The Almighty making the earth, shaping
 Introduction xv

These beautiful plains marked off by oceans,

Then proudly setting the sun and moon
To glow across the land and light it;
The comers of the earth were made lovely with trees
And leaves, made quick with life, with each
Of the nations who now move on its face.. . .
(90-98)

This so-called “ Song o f C reation,” m oving and elo­

quent as it is, enters the poem som ew hat abruptly, fol­
lowing im m ediately on the introduction o f G rendel, who
is “living dow n in the darkness” and displeased th a t the
D anes are happy in H erot, their new b attle h a ll W ho­
ever w rote it was plainly a C hristian, but we m ight say,
having this before us and nothing m ore, th at some monk­
ish hand could have added these sentim ents to improve
an d correct an essentially pagan epic. B ut m ost o f the
C hristianity in B eow ulf is n o t so easily dism issed as in­
terpolation. “ L et G od be thanked!” (Alwealdan pane),
cries H rothgar, fo r exam ple, w hen the D anes assemble
to celebrate B eow ulf’s victory over G rendel. These are
his first words; he goes on, alm ost a t once, to assert w ith
great feeling th at

. . . the Almighty makes miracles

When He pleases, wonder after wonder, and this world
Rests in His h an d s.. . .
(930-932)

I t is G od, as I have already noted, who leads Beow ulf

to victory over G rendel’s vicious m other, once Beowulf
has proved th a t he is w illing an d able to help himself.
The examples could be m ultiplied m any tim es over: the
essential nature o f this Christianity m ay not be quite the
sam e as th a t practiced in tw entieth-century London or
in California, bu t it is mi integral p a rt o f the poet’s
thought and o f his view o f life.
T he “ Song o f C reation” shows, too, another o f the
xvi Introduction

poet’s m any gifts: his descriptive genius. N one o f his de­

scriptive passages are autotelic; they are all purposeful,
m eant to elucidate or set the stage or accomplish a tran­
sition.

And sometimes, when the path ran straight and clear,

They would let their horses race, red
And brown and pale yellow backs streaming
Down the ro ad .. . .
(864-867)

This is intended, I think, to be a “ true” picture rather

than a “beautiful” one. The racing of horses was a proper
and highly regarded sport; the animals were likely to be
o f these particular colors; and someone standing nearby
and w atching could easily see how accurate a descrip­
tion this was. The poet’s listeners—like most Old Eng­
lish verse, Beow ulf was m eant to be heard rather than
read—had undoubtedly seen such races themselves,
m any tim es over, and they would nod their heads in rec­
ognition and approval. This was indeed how it was—or
how it should have been. B ut for us, to whom kings are
unim portant and m onsters nonexistent, to whom horses
are objects to bet on and roads created for hundred-
horsepower motors, w hat comes through most forcefully
is quite simply the clear, sharp beauty o f the scene.
The descriptions o f imaginary events are ju st as vivid:

They could see the water crawling with snakes,

Fantastic serpents swimming in the boiling
Lake, and sea-beasts lying on the rocks
—The kind that infest the ocean, in the early
Dawn, often ending some ship's
Journey with their wild jaw s.. . .
(1425-1430)

The poet had never seen anything like this lake o f mon­
sters; neither had his audience. It was vivid to them, I
 Introduction xvii

am confident, not as an exercise in im agery but as a con­

juring up o f w hat m ust exist, somewhere, somehow.

There in the harbor was a ring-prowed fighting

Ship, its timbers icy, waiting,
And there they brought the belovéd body
Of their ring-giving lord, and laid him near
The mast. Next to that noble corpse
They heaped up treasures, jeweled helmets,
Hooked swords and coats of mail, armor
Carried from the. ends of the e a rth .. .
(32-39)

The excavation o f Sutton H oo, a cerem onial and prob­

ably a kingly burial ship o f perhaps the seventh century
a .d ., has show n how sm all a role fancy played in such
descriptions. (The riches and w onders o f Sutton Hoo
need no cataloguing, here.) Like all poets, this one is ca­
pable o f exaggeration, o f stretching a point to make the
story move m ore easily—but not in truly im portant m at­
ters, and the burial o f a king was, for him , of an im por­
tance second to nothing. Even his talk o f precious objects
“ carried from the ends o f th e earth ” has been proven
n o t a b it exaggerated: the Sutton H oo burial treasures
include a large silver dish stam ped w ith the m ark o f the
Byzantine Em peror A nastasius, who died in a .d . 518.
A lm ost m ost attractiv e to us, o f all th e m any-sided
excellences o f Beowulf, is the poet’s insight into people.
Com bining, in a sense, his concern for Anglo-Saxon
m orality w ith his descriptive and narrative powers, his
delineation o f m en like H rothgar and W iglaf, the care
and the eloquence o f his portrayals, is deeply satisfying.
M uch o f it is indirect, accomplished (like the best o f
contem porary fictional characterization) through his peo­
ple’s own words and m ovements. The eager excitem ent
o f W ulfgar, for exam ple, hurrying off to announce Beo­
w ulf’s arrival to king H rothgar, fairly leaps from his five-
line speech:
xviii Introduction

“Our warmhearted lord will be told

Of your coining; I shall tell our king, our giver
O f bright rings, and hurry back with his word,
And speak it here, however he answers
Your request.” . . .
(351-355)

W ulfgar’s enthusiasm is all the m ore rem arkable when

we realize that visitors to a foreign king's court were usu­
ally beggars, outcasts, m en whose feudal lord had died,
rebels, or the like. T hat it could be dangerous, too, to
welcome such men is shown by king H erdred’s fate: see
lines 2380-2390.
I have commented, in my Poemsfrom the Old English,
on the gentleness and solicitude shown by W iglaf. The
m ost notable characterization in the poem , I believe, is
th at o f H rothgar, who is brought to m e w ith a fullness
and subtlety to w hich no am ount o f quotation can do
justice. But lesser figures are evoked w ith much the same
skill. H rothgar’s queen, W elthow, is m asterfully done:
the irony o f her appeals, on b ehalf o f her young sons,
m ust have been apparent to all who listened. Addressing
her husband, and H rothulf, his nephew, she says:

. . . “But your sons will be safe,

Sheltered in Hrothulf’s gracious protection,
If fate takes their father while Hrothulf is alive;
I know your nephew’s kindness, I know
He’ll repay in kind the goodness you have shown him ..
(1180-1184)

H er view of the passion-filled D anish court, destined to

erupt in treachery and m urder after H rothgar’s death,
includes such expressions o f mistaken (or desperate?)
good faith as this:

“All men speak softly, here, speak mildly

And trust their neighbors, protect their lord,
 Introduction xix
Are loyal followers who would fight as joyfully
As they drink...
(1228-1231)

H er helplessness is pathetically plain.

C haracters whose appearance is little m ore than inci­
d en tal are also handled w ith perception and care: even
the slave w ho stum bles onto the dragon, and who is later
forced to lead B eow ulf and his m en to th e m onster, is
“ afraid o f b o th b east an d m en.” T he nam eless G eats,
B eow ulf’s com panions on his dangerous journey to
D enm ark, lie in the darkness o f H erot, aw aiting G rendel,

. . . each o f them sure that he was lost

To the home he loved, to the high-walled towns
And the friends he had left behind where both he
And they had been raised. Each thought of the Danes
Murdered by Grendel in a hall where Geats
And not Danes now s le p t . . .
(691-696)

Some o f the m ore o r less self-contained episodes, like

the fam ous Finn section (1068-1159), are developed with
a tight, concise skill th at shows the poet at ease in small
form s as well as large. (A pparent obscurities in the Finn
section, and elsewhere, are m ore our fault than his: too
m any centuries separate us, and too m any universal al­
lusions have becom e blank spaces for scholarship to
struggle to fill.) T he elegy o f th e la st survivor o f some
unnam ed noble race, lines 2247-2266, is w orthy o f com­
parison w ith such fam ous O ld English poem s as “The
R uin” and “D eor” (see, again, Poems from the Old Eng­
lish). Indeed, though I have no evidence w hatever, such
is the poet's power and virtuosity th at I do not believe it
possible for Beow ulf to have been the beginning and end
o f his literary production. His other work, both early and
late, m ay well have been destroyed, along w ith all the
rest o f w hat m ust be m issing from Old English literature.
xx Introduction

But it may not have been destroyed; some new Vercelli

Book of precious and unique poetry may someday turn
up, in an Italian m onastery or alm ost anywhere else.

A few things should be said about this translation, its

sources, principles, and practice. My basic text has been
F. Klaeber’s Beowulf {ixá edition, w ith 1st and 2nd sup­
plem ents, 1950). I have also m ade extensive use o f
E. V. K. D obbie’s Beowulf, in th e indispensable A nglo-
Saxon Poetic Records series (vbL IV , 1953). A few dis­
puted readings o f the m anuscript have been draw n from
C. L. W renn’s B eow ulf (1953). O ther works consulted
with some frequency include Bosw orth/Toller, A n Anglo-
Saxon Dictionary (1898); Toller’s Supplement (1921); J. R.
C lark H all, A Concise Anglo-Saxon Dictionary (4th edi­
tion, w ith a supplem ent by H . D . M eritt, 1960); A . J.
W yatt, A n Anglo-Saxon Reader (1919); R . Q uirk and
C. L. W renn, A n Old English Grammar (2nd edition,
1958); and J. and E. M . W right, Old English Grammar
(3rd edition, 1925). I have also consulted D avid W right’s
prose translation, Beowulf (1957), and the R. K. G ordon
prose translation, in his Anglo-Saxon Poetry (1954). A nd
I commend, to the interested and zealous reader, R. W .
Cham bers, Beow ulf (3rd edition, w ith a supplem ent by
C. L. W renn, 1959), and two excellent little books by
D orothy W hitelock, The Audience o f Beow ulf (1951)
and The Beginnings o f English Society (1952).
If this listing o f authorities m akes th e translation o f
Beowulf seem like a task weighted w ith scholarly appa­
ratus (and im plications), I can only adm it th at anyone
working w ith a text so complex ana, still, so imperfectly
understood, m ust necessarily rely heavily on every au­
thority he can lay his hands on. It m ay well be sufficient,
a t this point, to cite roughly one-half o f D obbie’s note
on the single word higemæSum, which occurs in line 2909:
This word has been variously explained, by some as d a t
plur. of a noun, by others as dat. plur. of an adjective.
 Introduction xxi

Thorpe read hige metSum as two words, “with weary spirit”;

all other edd. print as a compound. Sievers, Beitr. IX, 142 f.,
suggested emending to higemeðe, adjective, “weary of
mind,” referring to Wiglaf; this emendation was adopted
by Holder (1 ed.), Holthausen (1, 2 ed.), and Sedgefield
(1 ed.), but was later withdrawn by Sievers in Beitr. XXXVI,
419. Grein, Spr. II, 128, assumed a noun higemæð, which
he doubtfully glossed as “reverentia, diligentia” ; Grein,
ed., identified the second element of the compound with
mæð, “measure,” and translated higemæð (p. 139) as “gezie-
mende Gesinnung, aufmerksame Sorgfalt.” A noun
higemæð, “reverence,” is accepted by Wyatt (who glosses it
as “mind-honour, heart-reverence”), Schticking, and Cham­
bers. Sedgefield (3 ed.), note, translates, “ ‘with balance of
mind,’ i.e. impartially” ; see also his note in M LRev.
XXVIII, 229. Rieger, ZfdPh. Ill, 413, would read hige-
metium, dat. plur. of the adjective, referring to both the dead
Beowulf and the dragon; so Heyne (4 ed.) and Socin.. . .
For a more complete account of the scholarship on this
word, see Hoops, Bwst., pp. 137 f.

This is not in the least untypical; if it does no t inspire

awe, it should at least create a feeling o f sympathy.
My personal credo, w ith regard to the making o f trans­
lations, has not changed since Poems from the Old Eng­
lish: the following com m ents from pages xxvi and xxix
o f th at book are still applicable, here.

The translator’s only hope is to re-create something roughly

equivalent in the new language, something that is itself
good poetry and that at the same time carries a reason­
able measure of the force and flavor of the original. In this
sense a re-creation can only be a creation.. . . ‘Compara­
tively few lines would meet a scop's exacting standards.
Essentially, I have used a free four-beat line, without re­
gard to the usual accent patterns of English verse: the trans­
lations are therefore not tetram eter, in the usual sense of
iamb or trochee.
xxU Introduction
My practice has, however, varied somewhat, and particu­
larly in the matter of alliteration. Beowulf is a poem of
3,182 lines; techniques adequate to a group of shorter
works will not necessarily serve it equally welL 1 have
felt it advisable, even obligatory, to alliterate much more
freely, occasionally as the Old English alliterates, more
usually in irregular patterns developed ad hoc. These pat­
terns include everything from alliteration on the first and
fourth stresses to alliteration that runs through and across
several lines: I have also used part-alliteration; I have
sometimes used paired alliteration—two words in a line
alliterating according to one sound, and the other two
alliterating according to a wholly different sound; 1 have
even, though infrequently and, I hope, most discreetly,
used a bit of internal rhyme. 1 should perhaps add that I
have tried to let the weight and motion of each line de­
termine where the stresses (four to a line) fall. The same
word, therefore, need not be an alliterating word (i.e., a
stressed word) each time it occurs.
Finally, I want to thank Professor Angel Flores, who
commissioned a section of this translation and so got me
started on a task the size of which had always frightened
me away; Professor Robert P. Creed, who gave me most
welcome encouragement, and who not only cheerfully but
actually eagerly read through the entire manuscript, mak­
ing many helpful suggestions en route; Professor J. B.
Bessinger, of whom—though it seems almost incredible
that a translator should have two such selfless readers—
the same must be said; and my two oldest sons, Brian and
Blake, who bore with my preoccupation, who looked
bright-eyed and interested when I retold the story for
them, blow by blow, and who (age nine and age eight)
promised to sit and read proof with me—and (age ten
and age nine) did.
Burton Raffel
 BEOWULF

Prologue

H ear me! We’ve heard o f D anish heroes,

Ancient kings and the glory they cut
For themselves, swinging m ighty swords!
How Shild made slaves o f soldiers from every
Land, crowds o f captives h e'd beaten 5
Into terror; he’d traveled to D enm ark alone,
An abandoned child, but changed his own fate,
Lived to be rich and m uch honored. H e ruled
Lands on all sides: wherever the sea
W ould take them his soldiers sailed, returned 10
W ith tribute and obedience. There was a brave
King! A nd he gave them m ore than his glory,
Conceived a son for the D anes, a new leader
Allowed them by the grace o f G od. They had lived,
Before his coming, kingless and m iserable; 15
Now the Lord o f all life, R uler
O f glory, blessed them w ith a prince, Beo,
W hose pow er and fam e soon spread through the
world.
Shild’s strong son was the glory of Denm ark;
His father’s warriors were wound round his heart 20
23
24 B eowulf

W ith golden rings, bound to their prince

By Ins father's treasure. So young m en build
The future, wisely open-handed in peace,
Protected in war; so w arriors earn
Their fame, and w ealth is shaped w ith a sword.
W hen his tim e was come the old king died,
Still strong b u t called to the Lord’s hands.
His comrades carried him down to the shore,
Bore him as their leader had asked, their lord
A nd com panion, w hile w ords could m ove o n his
tongue.
Sbild’s reign had been long; he’d ruled them well.
There in the harbor was a ring-prowed fighting
Ship, its timbers icy, waiting,
And there they brought the belovéd body
O f their ring-giving lord, and laid him near
The m ast. N ext to th a t noble corpse
They heaped up treasures, jew eled helmets,
Hooked swords and coats o f m ail, arm or
Carried from the ends o f the earth: n o ship
H ad ever sailed so brightly fitted,
N o king sent forth m ore deeply m ourned.
Forced to set him adrift, floating
As far as the tide m ight run, they refused
To give him less from their hoards o f gold
Than those who’d shipped him away, an orphan
A nd a beggar, to cross the waves alone.
H igh up over his head they flew
His shining banner, then sadly let
The w ater pull a t the ship, watched it
Slowly sliding to where neither rulers
N or heroes nor anyone can say whose hands
Opened to take th at motionless cargo.
 B eow ulf 25

Then Beo was king in th a t D anish castle,

Shild’s $on ruling as long as his father
A nd as loved, a fam ous lord o f m en. &
A nd he in tu rn gave his people a son,
The great H ealfdane, a fierce fighter
W ho led the D anes to the end o f his long
Life and left them four children,
Three princes to guide them in battle, H ergar 60
■And H rothgar a n d H alga th e G ood, an d one
daughter*
Yrs, who was given to O nela, king
O f die Swedes, and becam e his wife and their queen.
T hen H rothgar, taking the throne, led
T he D anes to such glory th a t com rades and kins­
m en . 65
Swore by his sword, and young m en swelled
H is arm ies, an d he thought o f greatness and
resolved
T o build a hall th a t w ould hold his m ighty
B and and reach higher tow ard H eaven th an any­
thing
T hat had ever been know n to th e sons o f men. 70
A nd in th a t hall he’d divide the spoils
O f their victories, to old and young w hat they’d
earned
In battle, b u t leaving th e com m on pastures
U ntouched, and taking n o lives. The w ork
W as ordered, the tim bers tied and shaped
By the hosts th at H rothgar ruled. I t w as quickly
Beady, th a t m ost beautiful o f dwellings, built
A s he’d W anted, an d th e n h e w hose w ord was
obeyed
A ll over the earth nam ed it H erat.
H is boast come true he commanded a banquet, 80
Opened out his treasure-full hands.
T hat towering place, gabled and huge,
26 B eowulf

Stood waiting for time to pass, for w ar

To begin, for flames to leap as high
A s the feud th at w ould light them , and for H erot
to bum . a}
A powerful m onster, living down
In the darkness, growled in pain, im patient
As day after day the music rang
Loud in that haul, the harp’s rqoicing
Call and the poet’s clear songs, sung 90
O f the ancient beginnings o f us all, recalling
The Almighty making the earth, shaping
These beautiful plains m arked off by oceans,
Then proudly setting the sun and moon
To glow across the land and light it; 95
The comers o f the earth were m ade lovely with trees
And leaves, made quick w ith life, w ith each
O f the nations who now move on its face. A nd then
A s now warriors sang o f their pleasure:
So Hrothgar’s m en lived happy in his hall 100
T ill the m onster stirred, th at demon, th at fiend,
Grendel, who haunted the moors, the wild
Marshes, and made his hom e in a hell
N ot hell but earth. H e was spawned in that slime,
Conceived by a pair o f those monsters bom
O f Cain, murderous creatures banished
By God, punished forever for the crime
O f Abel’s death. The Almighty drove
Those demons out, and their exile was bitter,
Shut away from men; they split no
Into a thousand forms o f evu—spirits
And fiends, goblins, monsters, giants,
A brood forever opposing the Lord’s
Will, and again and again defeated.
 Beowulf 27

2
Then, when darkness had dropped, G rendel u;
W ent up to H erot, w ondering w hat the w arriors
W ould do in th a t hall w hen their drinking was done.
H e found them spraw led in sleep, suspecting
N othing, their dream s undisturbed. The m onster’s
Thoughts were as quick as his greed or his daw s: 120
H e slipped through th e door a n a there in the silence
Snatched up thirty m en, sm ashed them
U nknow ing in th eir beds an d ra n o u t w ith their
bodies,
The blood dripping behind him , back
T o his lair, delighted w ith his night’s slaughter. 125
A t daybreak, w ith th e sun’s first light, they saw
H ow well he had worked, and in th a t gray m orning
Broke their long feast w ith tears and lam ents
F o r the dead. H rothgar, their lord, sat joyless
Tn H erot, a mighty prince m ourning iy>
The fate o f his lost friends and com panions,
Knowing by its tracks th a t som e dem on had tom
H is followers a p a rt H e w e p t fearing
The beginning m ight n o t b e the end. A nd th at night
G rendel cam e again, so set 135
O n m urder th at no crim e could ever be enough,
N o savage assault quench his lust
F o r evil. Then each w arrior tried
T o escape him , searched fo r rest in different
Beds, as far from H erot as they could find, 140
Seeing how G rendel hunted w hen they slept.
D istance was safety; th e only survivors
W ere those who fled him . H ate had trium phed.
So G rendel ruled, fought w ith the righteous,
One against m any, and won; so H erot 145
Stood empty, and stayed deserted for years,
Twelve w inters o f grief for H rothgar, king
O f tiie Danes, sorrow heaped a t Ins door
By hell-forged hands. H is misery leaped
28 Beowulf

The seas, was told and sung in all ty»

M en’s ears: how Grendel’s hatred began,
How the monster relished his savage war
On the Danes, keeping the bloody feud
Alive, seeking no peace, offering
No truce, accepting no settlem ent, no price *55
In gold or land, and paying the living
For one crime only w ith another. N o one
W aited for reparation from his plundering daw s:
That shadow o f death hunted in the darkness,
Stalked Hrothgar’s warriors, old 266
And young, lying in waiting, hidden
In mist, invisibly following them from the edge
O f the marsh, always there, unseen.
So mankind’s enemy continued his crimes,
Killing as often as he could, coming *65
Alone, bloodthirsty and horrible. Though he lived
In Herot, when the night hid him , he never
D ared to touch king H rothgar’s glorious
Throne, protected by G od—God,
Whose love G rendel could not know. But H roth­
gar’s 170
H eart was bent. The best and m ost noble
O f his council debated remedies, sat
In secret sessions, talking o f terror
And wondering w hat the bravest o f warriors could
do.
And sometimes they sacrificed to the old stone gods, 17$
M ade heathen vows, hoping for Hell’s
Support, the Devil’s guidance in driving
Their affliction off. T hat was their way,
And the heathen’s only hope, Hell
Always in their hearts, knowing neither God an
N or His passing as H e walks through our world,
the Lord
Of Heaven and earth; their ears could not hear
His praise nor know His glory. Let them
Beware, those who are thrust into danger,
Clutched at by trouble, yet can carry no solace 185
 B eow ulf 29

In their hearts, cannot hope to be better! H ail

To those who will rise to G od, drop off
Their dead bodies and seek our Father’s peace!

3
So the living sorrow o f H ealfdane’s son
Simmered, bitter and fresh, and no wisdom X9o
O r strength could break it: th a t agony hung
On king and people alike, harsh
A nd unending, violent and cruel, and evil.
In his far-off hom e Beowulf, Higlac’s
Follower and the strongest o f the G eats—greater i95
A nd stronger than anyone anywhere in this' w orld—
H eard how G rendel filled nights w ith horror
A nd quickly com m anded a b oat fitted out.
Proclaim ing th at he’d go to th at fam ous king,
W ould sail across the sea to H fothgar, aoo
Now when help was needed. N one
O f the wise ones regretted his going, much
As he was loved by die G eats: the omens were good,
A nd they urged the adventure on. So Beowulf
Chose the m ightiest m en he could find, 205
The bravest and best o f the G eats, fourteen
In all, and led them down to their boat;
H e knew the sea, w ould point the prow
Straight to th at distant D anish shore.
T h a i they sailed, set their ship 210
O ut on the waves, under the cliffs.
R eady for w hat cam e they w ound through the cur­
rents,
The seas beating at the sand, and were borne
30 Beowulf

In the lap o f their shining ship, lined

W ith gleaming arm or, going safely 213
In th at oak-hard boat to where their hearts took
them.
The wind hurried them over the waves,
The ship foamed through the sea like a bird
Until, in the time they had known it would take,
Standing in the round-curled prow they could see 220
Sparkling hills, high and green,
Jutting up over the shore, and rejoicing
In those rock-steep cliffs they quietly ended
Their voyage. Jum ping to the ground, the Geats
Pushed their boat to the sand and tied it 225
In place, mail shirts and arm or rattling
As they swiftly m oored their ship. A nd then
They gave thanks to G od for their easy crossing.
High on a wall a D anish watcher
Patrolling along the cliffs saw 230
The travelers crossing to the shore, their shields
Raised and shining; he came riding down,
H rothgar’s lieutenant, spurring his horse,
Needing to know why they’d landed, these men
In armor. Shaking his heavy spear 235
In their faces he spoke:
“W hose soldiers are you,
You who’ve been carried in your deep-keeled ship
Across the sea-road to this country o f mine?
Listen! I’ve stood on these cliffs longer 240
Than you know, keeping our coast free
O f pirates, raiders sneaking ashore
From their ships, seeking our lives and our gold.
None have ever come more openly—
And yet you’ve offered no password, no sign 243
From my prince, no perm ission from my people for
your landing
Here. N or have I ever seen,
Out of all the men on earth, one greater
Than has come with you; no commoner carries
 B e o w u lf 31

Such weapons, unless his appearance, and his

beauty, 2 jo
Are both lies. You! T ell me your nam e,
A nd your father’s; no spies go further onto D anish
Soil than you’ve come already. Strangers,
From wherever it was you sailed, tell it,
A nd tell it quickly, the quicker the better, a#
I say, for us all. Speak, say
Exactly who you are, and from where, and why.”

4
Their leader answered him , Beowulf unlocking
W ords from deep in his breast:
“We are G eats, 360
M en who follow Higlac. My father
W as a famous soldier, known far and wide
As a leader o f men. H is nam e was Edgetho.
His life lasted m any w inters;
Wise m en all over the earth surely 26}
Rem ember him still. A nd we have come seeking
Y our prince, H ealfdane's son, protector
O f this people, only in friendship: instruct us,
W atchman, help us w ith your words! O ur errand
Is a great one, our business w ith the glorious king 270
O f the Danes no secret; there’s nothing dark
O r hidden in our com ing. You know (if we’ve heard
The truth, and been told honestly) th at your country
Is cursed w ith some strange, vicious creature
T hat hunts only a t night and th at no one 27)
H as seen. It’s said, w atchm an, th a t he has slaugh­
tered
32 B e o w u lf

Your people, brought terror to the darkness. Per­

haps
H rothgar can hunt, here in my heart,
For some way to drive this devil out—
If anything will ever end the evils 280
Afflicting your wise and famous lord.
Here he can cool his burning sorrow.
Or else he may see his suffering go on
Forever, for as long as H erot towers
High on your hills.” 285
The m ounted officer -
Answered him bluntly, the brave watchman:
“A soldier should know the difference between
words
And deeds, and keep that knowledge clear
In his brain. I believe your words, I trust in 290
Your friendship. Go forward, weapons and armor
And all, on into Denmark. I’ll guide you
Myself—and my men will guard your ship,
Keep it safe here on our shores,
Your fresh-tarred boat, watch it well, 293
U ntil that curving prow carries
Across the sea to G eatland a chosen
W arrior who bravely does battle w ith the creature
H aunting our people, who survives th at horror
U nhurt, and goes home bearing our love.” 300
Then they moved on. Their boat lay moored,
Tied tight to its anchor. G littering at the top
O f their golden helmets wild boar heads gleamed,
Shining decorations, swinging as they marched,
Erect lake guards, like sentinels, as though ready 305
To fight. They marched, Beowulf and his men
And their guide, until they could see the gables
O f Herot, covered w ith hammered gold
And glowing in the sun—that most famous of all
dwellings,
Towering majestic, its glittering roofs 310
Visible far across the land.
Their guide reined in his horse, pointing
 B eo w u lf 33

To that hall, built by H rothgar for the best

And bravest o f his m en; the path was plain,
They could see their way. A nd th a t he spoke: 515
“Now I m ust leave you: m ay the Lord our G od
Protect your coming and going! The sea
Is my job, keeping these coasts free
O f invaders, bands o f pirates: I m ust go back.”

5
The path he'd shown them was paved, cobbled 320
Like a R om an road. They arrived w ith their m ail
shirts
G littering, silver-shining links
Clanking an iron song as they came.
Sea-weaiy still, they set their broad,
Battle-hardened shields in rows 323
Along the wall, then stretched themselves
On H erot’s benches. Their arm or rang;
Their ash-wood spears stood in a line,
G ray-tipped and straight: the G eats’ war-gear
W ere honored weapons. 330
A D anish w arrior
A sked who they w ere, their nam es and their
fathers':
“W here have you carried these gold-carved
shields from ,
These silvery shirts and helmets, and those spears
Set out in long lines? I am H rothgar’s 333
Herald and captain. Strangers have come here
Before, but never so freely, so bold.
A nd you come too proudly to be exiles: not poverty
34 B eo w u lf

But your hearts’ high courage has brought you to

Hrothgar.”
H e was answered by a fam ous soldier, the G eats' 340
Proud prince:
“We follow Higlac, break bread
A t his side. I am Beowulf. My errand
Is for H ealfdane’s great son to hear, your glorious
Lord; if he chooses to receive us we will greet him, 3#
Salute the chief o f the D anes and speak out
O ur message.”
W ulfgar replied—a prince
Bom to the Swedes, famous for both strength
A nd wisdom: 330
“Our w arm hearted lord will be told
O f your coming; I shall tell our king, our giver
O f bright rings, and hurry back w ith his word,
And speak it here, however he answers
Your request.” 333
H e w ent quickly to where Hrothgar
sat,
G ray and old, in the middle o f his men,
A nd knowing the custom o f th at court walked
straight
To the king’s great chair, stood waiting to be heard,
Then spoke: 360
“There are G eats who have come sail­
ing the open
Ocean to our land, come far over
The high waves, led by a warrior
Called Beowulf. They w ait on your word, bring
messages
For your ears alone. My lord, grant them 363
A gracious answer, see them and hear
W hat they’ve come fort Their weapons and arm or
are nobly
W orked—these men are no beggars. And Beowulf
Their prince, who showed them the way to our
shores,
Is a mighty warrior, powerful and wise.” 370
 B eo w u lf 35

6
The Danes’ high prince and protector answered:
“I knew Beowulf as a boy. His father
Was Edgetho, who was given H rethel’s one daugh­
ter
—H rethel, Higlac’s father. N ow Edgetho’s
Brave son is here, come visiting a friendly 375
King. A nd I’ve heard th at w hen seamen came,
Bringing their gifts and presents to the G eats,
They wrestled and ran together, and Higlac’s
Young prince showed them a m ighty battle-grip,
H ands th at moved w ith thirty men’s strength, 380
And courage to m atch. O ur H oly F ather
Has sent him as a sign o f H is grace, a m ark
O f His favor, to help us defeat G iendel
A nd end that terror. I shall greet him w ith treasures,
G ifts to rew ard his courage in com ing to us. 383
Quickly, order them all to come to me
Together, Beowulf and his band o f G eats.
A nd tell them , too, how welcome we will make
them !”
Then W ulfgar w ent to the door and addressed
The waiting seafarers w ith soldier’s words: 390
“My lord, the great king o f the D anes, commands
me
To tell you that he knows o f your noble birth
And that having come to him from over the open
Sea you have come bravely and are welcome.
Now go to him as you are, in your arm or and hel­
mets, 393
But leave your battle-shields here, and your spears,
Let them lie waiting for the prom ises your words
M ay make.”
Beowulf arose, w ith his m en
A round him, ordering a few to rem ain 400
W ith their weapons, leading the others quickly
Along under H erat’s steep roof into H rothgar’s
36 B e o w u lf

Presence. Standing on that prince’s own hearth,

Helmeted, the silvery m etal o f his mail shirt
Gleaming with a sm ith’s high art, he greeted 405
The D anes' great lord:
“H ail, Hrothgar!
Higlac is my cousin and my king; the days
O f my youth have been filled w ith glory. Now
Grendel’s
N am e has echoed in our land: sailors 410
Have brought us stories o f H erot, the best
O f all m ead-halls, deserted and useless when the
moon
Hangs in skies the sun had lit,
Light and life fleeing together.
My people have said, the wisest, most knowing 415
A nd best o f them , th a t m y duty was to go to the
D anes'
G reat king. They have seen my strength for them­
selves,
Have watched me rise from die darkness o f war,
Dripping with my enemies' blood. I drove
Five great giants into chains, chased 42o
All o f that race from the earth. I swam
In the blackness o f night, hunting monsters
O ut o f the ocean, and killing them one
By one; death was my errand and the fate
They had earned. Now Grendel and I are called 425
Together, and I’ve come. G rant me, then,
Lord and protector o f this noble place,
A single request! I have come so far,
Oh shelterer o f warriors and your people’s loved
friend,
T hat this one favor you should not refuse me— 430
That L alone and w ith the help o f my men,
May purge all evil from this hall. I have heard,
Too, that the monster’s scorn o f men
Is so great that he needs no weapons and fears
none.
N or will L My lord Higlac 435
 B eo w u lf 37

M ight think less o f me if I let my sword

Go where my feet were afraid to, if I hid
Behind some broad linden shield: my hands
Alone shall fight for me, struggle for life
Against the m onster. G od must decide 440
Who will be given to death’s cold grip.
G rendel’s plan, I think, will be
W hat it has been before, to invade this hall
And gorge his belly w ith our bodies. If he can,
If he can. And I think, if my tim e will have come, 445
There’ll be nothing to m ourn over, no corpse to
prepare
For its grave: G rendel will carry our bloody
Flesh to the moors, crunch on our bones
And smear torn scraps o f our skin on the walls
O f his den. No, I expect no D anes 4*0
W ill fret about sewing our shrouds, if he wins.
And if death does take me, send the hammered
Mail of my arm or to Higlac, return
The inheritance I had from H rethel, and he
From W ayland. Fate will unwind as it m ust!” 455

H rothgar replied, protector of the Danes:

“ Beowulf, you’ve com e to us in friendship, and
because
O f the reception your father found a t our court.
Edgetho had begun a bitter feud,
Killing H athlaf, a W ulfing w arrior: 460
Your father’s countrym en were afraid o f war,
I f he returned to his home, and they turned him
away.
38 B eow ulf

Then he traveled across the curving waves

Tp the land of the Danes. I was new to the throne,
Then, a young m an ruling this wide 465
Kingdom and its golden city: Hergar,
My older brother, a far better man
Than I, had died and dying made me,
Second among H ealfdane’s sons, first
In this nation. I bought the end of Edgetho’s 47°
Quarrel, sent ancient treasures through the ocean’s
Furrows to the Wulfings: your father swore
He’d keep that peace. My tongue grows heavy,
And my heart, when I try to tell you what Grendel
Has brought us, the damage he’s done, here 475
In tills hall. You see for yourself how much
smaller
Our ranks have become, and can guess what we’ve
lost
To his terror. Surely the Lord Almighty
Could stop his madness, smother his lust!
How many times have my men, glowing 480
W ith courage drawn from too many cups
O f ale, sworn to stay after dark
And stem th at horror w ith a sweep of their swords.
And then, in the m orning, this m ead-hall glittering
W ith new light would be drenched w ith blood, the
benches 485
Stained red, the floors, all wet from that fiend’s
Savage assault—and my soldiers would be fewer
Still, death taking more and more.
But to table, Beowulf, a banquet in your honor:
Let us toast your victories, and talk of the future.” 490
Then H rotbgar’s men gave places to the Geats,
Yielded benches to the brave visitors
And led them to the feast. The keeper of the mead
Came carrying out the carved flasks,
And poured that bright sweetness. A poet 495
Sang, from time to time, in a clear
Pure voice. Danes and visiting Geats
Celebrated as one, drank and rejoiced.
 B eo w u lf

8
U nferth spoke, E cglaf’s son,
Who sat at H rothgar’s feet, spoke harshly
And sharp (vexed by Beowulf’s adventure,
By their visitor’s courage, and angry that anyone
In D enm ark or anywhere on earth had ever
Acquired glory and fame greater
Than his own):
“You’re Beowulf, are you—the same
Boastful fool who fought a swimming
M atch with Brecca, both o f you daring
A nd young and proud, exploring the deepest
Seas, risking your lives for no reason
B ut the danger? A ll older and w iser heads w arned
you
N ot to, but no one could check such pride.
W ith Brecca at your side you swam along
The sea-paths, your swift-moving hands pulling you
Over the ocean’s face. Then w inter
Churned through the water, the waves ran you
As they willed, and you struggled seven long nights
To survive. A nd a t the end victory was his,
N ot yours. The sea carried him close
To his home, to southern Norway, near
The land o f the B randings, where he ruled and was
loved,
W here his treasure w as piled and his strength pro­
tected
His tow ns and his people. H e’d prom ised to out-
swim you:
B onstan’s son m ade th at boast ring true.
Y ou’ve been lucky in your battles, Beowulf, but I
think
Y our luck m ay change if you challenge Grendel,
Staying a whole night through in this hall,
W aiting where th a t fiercest o f dem ons can find
you.”
40 B eo w u lf

Beowulf answered, Edgetho’s great son:

“Ah! U nferth, my friend, your face 53°
Is hot w ith ale, and your tongue has tried
To tell us about Brecca’s doings. But the tru th
Is simple: no m an swims in the sea
As I can, no strength is a m atch for mine.
As boys, Brecca and I had boasted— 535
We were both too young to know better—th at we’d
risk
Our lives far out a t sea, and so
We did. Each o f us carried a naked
Sword, prepared for whales or the swift
Sharp teeth and beaks o f needlefish. 540
He could never leave me behind, swim faster
Across the waves than I could, and I
H ad chosen to rem ain close to his side.
I rem ained near him for five long nights,
U ntil a flood swept us apart; 545
The frozen sea surged around me,
It grew dark, the w ind turned bitter, blowing
From the north, and the waves were savage. Crea­
tures
W ho sleep deep in the sea were stirred
Into life—and the iron hammered links 550
O f my m ail shirt, these shining bits o f m etal
W oven across my breast, saved me
From death. A m onster seized me, drew me
Swiftly tow ard the bottom , swimming with its claws
Tight in my flesh. But fate let me 555
Find its heart with my sword, hack myself
Free; I fought that beast’s last battle,
Left it floating lifeless in the sea.
 B eo w u lf 41

9
“O ther monsters crowded around me,
Continually attacking. I treated them politely, .560
Offering the edge o f m y razor-sharp sword.
But the feast, I think, aid not please them , filled
Their evil bellies w ith no banquet-rich food,
Thrashing there a t the bottom o f the sea;
By m orning they’d decided to sleep on the shore, 56)
Lying on their backs, their blood spilled out
O n the sand. A fterw ards, sailors could cross
T hat sea-road and feel no fear; nothing
W ould stop their passing. Then G od’s bright beacon
A ppeared in the east, the w ater lay still, 570
A nd a t last I could see the land, wind-swept
Cliff-walls a t the edge o f the coast. F ate saves
The living w hen they drive aw ay d eath by them ­
selves!
Lucky o r not, nine was the num ber
O f sea-huge m onsters I killed. W hat m an, 575
Anywhere under H eaven's high arch, has fought
In such darkness, endured m ore m isery o r been
harder
Pressed? Y et I survived the sea, sm ashed
The m onsters' h o t jaw s, sw am hom e from my
journey.
The swift-flowing w aters swept m e along 5so
A nd I landed on Finnish soiL I’ve heard
N o tales o f you, U nferth, telling
O f such clashing terro r, such contests in the night!
Brecca's battles were never so bold;
N either he n or you can m atch me—and I m ean .585
N o boast, have announced no m ore than I know
To be tru e. A nd there’s m ore: you m urdered your
brothers,
Y our own dose kin. W ords and bright w it
W on’t help your soul; you’ll suffer hell’s fires,
U nferth, forever torm ented. Ecglaf’s &o
42 B eo w u lf

Proud son, if your hands were as hard, your heart

As fierce as you think it, no fool would dare
To raid your hall, ruin H erot
A nd oppress its prince, as G rendel has done.
But he's learned that terror is his alone, ^
D iscovered he can com e for your people w ith no
fear
O f reprisal; he's found no fighting, here,
But only food, only delight.
He m urders as he likes, w ith no mercy, gorges
A nd feasts on your flesh, and expects no trouble, 600
N o quarrel from the quiet Danes. Now
The Geats will show him courage, soon
He can test his strength in battle. A nd when the sun
Comes up again, opening another
Bright day from the south, anyone in Denm ark 605
M ay enter this hall: th at evil will be gone!”
Hrothgar, gray-haired and brave, sat happily
Listening, the famous ring-giver sure,
A t last, th at G rendel could be killed; he believed
In Beowulf’s bold strength and the firmness o f his
sp irit 6to
There was the sound o f laughter, and the cheer­
ful clanking
O f cups, and pleasant words. Then W elthow,
H rothgar’s gold-ringed queen, greeted
The warriors; a noble woman who knew
W hat was right, she raised a flowing cup 613
To H rothgar fu s t holding it high
F or the lord o f the D anes to drink, wishing him
Joy in that fe a st The famous king
D rank with pleasure and blessed their banquet.
Then W elthow w ent from w arrior to w arrior,
Pouring a portion from the jeweled cup
For each, till the bracelet-wearing queen
H ad carried the mead-cup among them and it was
Beowulf’s
Turn to be served. She saluted the G eats'
G reat prince, thanked G od fo r answering her
prayers, 6a.j
 B eo w u lf 43

For allowing her hands the happy duty

O f offering m ead to a hero who would help
H er afflicted people. H e drank w hat she poured,
Edgetho’s brave son, then assured the D anish
Queen th at his heart was firm and his hands 630
Ready:
“W hen we crossed the sea, m y comrades
A nd I, I already knew th at all
M y purpose was this: to w in.the good will
O f your people or die in battle, pressed 633
In G rendel’s fierce grip. Let me live in greatness
And courage, or here in this hall welcome
My death!”
W elthow was pleased w ith his words,
His bright-tongued boasts; she carried them back 640
To her lord, walked nobly across to his side.
The feast went on, laughter and m usic
A nd the brave words o f w arriors celebrating
Their delight. Then H rothgar rose, H ealfdane's
Son, heavy w ith sleep; as soon 643
As the sun had gone, he knew th at G rendel
W ould come to H erot, w ould visit th at hall
W hen night had covered the earth w ith its net
A nd the shapes o f darkness moved black and silent
Through the w orld. H rothgar’s w arriors rose w ith
him . 630
H e w ent to Beowulf, em braced the G eats'
Brave prince, wished him well, and hoped
T hat H erot would be his to command. A nd then
H e declared:
“N o one strange to this land 633
Has ever been granted w hat I’ve given you,
No one in all the years o f my rule.
M ake this best o f all m ead-halls yours, and then
Keep it free o f evil, fight
W ith glory in your heart! Purge H erot 660
A nd your ship will sail hom e w ith its treasure-holds
fulL”
44 B e o w u lf

10
Then H rothgar left that hall, the Danes*
G reat protector, followed by his court; the queen
H ad preceded him and he went to lie a t her side,
Seek sleep near his wife. It was said that G od 663
Himself had set a sentinel in H erot,
Brought Beowulf as a guard against GTendel and a
shield
Behind whom the king could safely rest.
A nd Beowulf was ready, firm w ith our Lord’s
High favor and his own bold courage and strength. 670
H e stripped off his m ail shirt, his helm et, his
sword
Hammered from the hardest iron, and handed
All his weapons and arm or to a servant,
Ordered his war-gear guarded till morning.
A nd then, standing beside his bed, 675
He exclaimed:
“Grendel is no braver, no stronger
T han I am! I could kill him w ith m y sw ord; I shall
not,
Easy as it would be. This fiend is a bold
A nd famous fighter, but his daw s and teeth 6S0
Scratching a t my shield, his dum sy fists
Beating a t my sword blade, would be helpless. I
will meet him
W ith my hands empty—unless his heart
Fails him , seeing a soldier waiting
W eaponless, unafraid. Let G od in His wisdom 683
Extend His hand where H e wills, reward
W hom He chooses!”
Then the Geats* great chief
dropped
His head to his pillow, and around him, as ready
As they could be, lay the soldiers who had crossed
the sea 690
At his side, each o f them sure that he was lost
 B eo w u lf 45

To the home he loved, to the high-walled towns

And the friends he had left behind where both he
A nd they had been raised. Each thought of the
Danes
M urdered by G rendel in a hall where G eats fry
A nd not Danes now slept. But G od’s dread loom
W as woven w ith defeat for the m onster, good for­
tune
F or the G eats; help against G rendel was w ith them ,
A nd through the m ight o f a single m an
They w ould win. W ho doubts th at G od in His wis­
dom 700
A nd strength holds the earth forever
In His hands? Out in the darkness the m onster
Began to walk. The w arriors slept
In th at gabled hall where they hoped th at He
W ould keep them safe from evil, guard them 705
From death till the end o f their days was deter­
m ined
A nd the thread should be broken. But Beowulf lay
wakeful,
W atching, waiting, eager to m eet
His enemy, and angry at the thought o f his coming.

11
Out from the marsh, from the foot o f m isty 710
Hills and bogs, bearing G od’s hatred,
G rendel came, hoping to kill
Anyone he could trap on this trip to high H e ro t
He moved quickly through the cloudy night,
Up from his swampland, sliding silently 7 1}
46 B e o w u lf
Toward that gold-shining hall. H e had visited
H rothgar’s
Home before, knew the way—
But never, before nor after that night,
Found H erot defended so firmly, his reception
So harsh. He journeyed, forever joyless, 720
Straight to the door, then snapped it open,
Tore its iron fasteners with a touch
And rushed angrily over the threshold.
He strode quickly across the inlaid
Floor, snarling and fierce: his eyes 725
Gleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesome
Light. Then he stopped, seeing the hall
Crowded with sleeping warriors, stuffed
W ith rows of young soldiers resting together.
And his heart laughed, he relished the sight, 73°
Intended to tear the life from those bodies
By morning; the monster’s m ind was hot
W ith the thought of food and the feasting his belly
W ould soon know. But fate, that night, intended
Grendel to gnaw the broken bones 73)
O f his last hum an supper. H um an
Eyes were watching his evil steps,
W aiting to see his swift hard claws.
Grendel snatched at the first G eat
He came to, ripped him apart, cut 740
His body to bits with powerful jaws,
D rank the blood from his veins and bolted
Him down, hands and feet; death
And Grendel’s great teeth came together,
Snapping life shut. Then he stepped to another 74)
Still body, clutched at Beowulf with his claws,
G rasped at a strong-hearted wakeful sleeper
—And was instantly seized himself, claws
Bent back as Beowulf leaned up on one arm.
That shepherd of evil, guardian o f crime, 73°
Knew at once that nowhere on earth
Had he met a man whose hands were harder;
His mind was flooded with fear—-but nothing
 B eo w u lf 47

Could take his talons and him self from th at tight

H ard grip. G rendel’s one thought was to run 755
From Beowulf, flee back to his m arsh and hide
there:
This was a different H erot than the hall he had
em ptied.
But Higlac’s follower remembered his final
Boast and, standing erect, stopped
The m onster’s flight, fastened those claws 760
In his fists till they cracked, clutched G rendel
Closer. The infamous killer fought
F or his freedom, w anting no flesh but retreat,
D esiring nothing but escape; his claws
H ad been caught, he was trapped. T hat trip to
H erot 765
W as a miserable journey for the w rithing m onsterl
The high hall rang, its ro o f boards swayed,
A nd D anes shook w ith terror. Down
The aisles the battle swept, angry
A nd wild. H erot trem bled, wonderfully 770
Built to w ithstand the blows, the struggling
G reat bodies beating a t its beautiful walls;
Shaped and fastened w ith iron, inside
A nd out, artfully worked, the building
Stood firm. Its benches rattled, fell 77;
To the floor, gold-covered boards grating
As G rendel and Beowulf battled across them.
H rothgar’s wise m en had fashioned H erot
To stand forever; only fire,
They had planned, could shatter w hat such skill
had pu t 7so
Together, swallow in ho t flames such splendor
O f ivory and iron and wood. Suddenly
The sounds changed, the D anes started
In new terror, cowering in their beds as the terrible
Screams o f the Almighty’s enemy sang 7
In the darkness, the horrible shrieks o f pain
A nd defeat, the tears tom out o f G rendel’s
T aut throat, hell’s captive caught in the arms
48 B eo w u lf

O f him who of all the men on earth

Was the strongest.

12
T hat mighty protector o f men
M eant to hold the monster till its life
Leaped out, knowing the fiend was no use
To anyone in Denmark. All o f Beowulf’s
Band had jum ped from their beds, ancestral 795
Swords raised and ready, determined
To protect their prince if they could. Their courage
Was great but all wasted: they could hack at Gren-
del
From every side, trying to open
A path for his evil soul, but their points 800
Could not hurt him, the sharpest and hardest iron
Could not scratch a t his skin, for that sin-stained
demon
H ad bewitched all men’s weapons, laid spells
T hat blunted every m ortal m an’s blade.
And yet his time had come, his days 80}
Were over, his death near; down
To hell he would go, swept groaning and helpless
To the waiting hands of still worse fiends.
Now he discovered—once the afiSictor
O f men, torm entor of their days—what it meant 810
To feud w ith Alm ighty God: G rendel
Saw that his strength was deserting him, his claws
Bound fast, Higlac’s brave follower tearing at
His hands. The m onster’s hatred rose higher,
But his power had gone. He twisted in pain, 815
And the bleeding sinews deep in his shoulder
 B eo w u lf 49

Snapped, muscle and bone split

A nd broke. The battle was over, Beowulf
H ad been granted new glory: G rendel escaped,
B ut wounded as he was could flee to his den, 820
His m iserable hole a t the bottom o f the m arsh,
Only to die, to w ait for the end
O f all his days. A nd after th a t bloody
C om bat the Danes laughed w ith d elig h t
H e who had come to them from across the sea, 823
Bold and strong-m inded, had driven affliction
Off, purged H erot dean. He was happy,
Now, w ith th at night’s fierce work; the D anes
H ad been served as he’d boasted he’d serve them ;
Beowulf,
A prince o f the G eats, had killed G rendel, 830
Ended the grief, the sorrow, the suffering
Forced on H rothgar’s helpless people
By a bloodthirsty fiend, N o D ane doubted
The victory, for the proof, hanging high
From the rafters w here Beow ulf had hung it, was
the m onster’s 833
Arm, claw and shoulder and alL

13
A nd then, in the m orning, crowds surrounded
H erot, w arriors coming to th at hall
From faraw ay lands, princes and leaders
O f m en hurrying to behold the m onster’s 840
G reat staggering tracks. They gaped w ith no sense
O f sorrow, felt no regret for his suffering,
W ent tracing his bloody footprints, his beaten
A nd lonely flight, to the edge o f the lake
50 B eo w u lf

W here he’d dragged his corpselike way, doomed 845

A nd already weary o f his vanishing life.
The w ater was bloody, steaming and boiling
In horrible pounding waves, heat
Sucked from his magic veins; but the swirling
Surf had covered his death, hidden 850
Deep in murky darkness his m iserable
End, as hell opened to receive him.
Then old and young rejoiced, turned back
From th a t happy pilgrimage, m ounted their hard-
hooved
Horses, high-spirited stallions, and rode them 855
Slowly tow ard H erot again, retelling
Beowulf’s bravery as they jogged along.
A nd over and over they swore th at nowhere
On earth or under the spreading sky
Or between the seas, neither south nor north, S60
W as there a w arrior w orthier to rule over men.
(Biit no one m eant Beowulf’s praise to belittle
H rothgar, their kind and gracious king!)
A nd sometimes, when the path ran straight and
clear,
They would let their horses race, red 863
A nd brown and pale yellow backs streaming
Down the road. A nd sometimes a proud old soldier
W ho had heard songs o f the ancient heroes
A nd could sing them all through, story after story,
W ould weave a net o f words for Beowulf's 870
Victory, tying the knot o f his verses
Smoothly, swiftly, into place w ith a poet’s
Quick skill, singing his new song aloud
W hile he shaped it, and the old songs as well—
Siegmund’s
Adventures, fam iliar battles fought 87.5
By th at glorious son o f Vels. A nd struggles,
Too, against evil and treachery th at no one
H ad ever heard of, th at no one knew
Except Fitla, who had fought at his uncle’s side,
A brave young comrade carefully listening 880
 B eo w u lf

W hen Siegmund’s tongue unwound the wonders

He had worked, confiding in his closest friend.
There were tales o f giants wiped from the earth
By Siegmund’s m ight—and forever rem em bered,
Fam e th at would last him beyond life and death,
His daring battle w ith a treasure-rich dragon.
Heaving a hoary gray rock aside
Siegmund had gone down to the dragon alone,
Entered the hole where it hid and swung
His sword so savagely th a t it slit the creature
Through, pierced its flesh and pinned it
To a wall, hung it where his bright blade rested.
His courage and strength had earned him a king-
like
Treasure, brought gold and rich rings to his glori­
ous
H ands. He loaded th at precious hoard
O n his ship and sailed off w ith a shining cargo.
A nd the dragon dissolved in its own fierce blood.
N o prince, no protector o f his w arriors, knew
pow er
A nd fam e and glory like Siegmund’s; his nam e
A nd his treasures grew great. H erm od could have
hoped
F or a t least as m uch; he was once the m ightiest
O f men. But pride and defeat and betrayal
Sent him into exile w ith the Jutes, and he ended
His life on their swords. T hat life had been misery
A fter misery, and he spread sorrow as long
As he lived it, heaped troubles on his unhappy
people’s
H eads, ignored all wise men’s warnings,
R uled only w ith courage. A king
Born, entrusted w ith ancient treasures
A nd cities full o f stronghearted soldiers,
His vanity swelled him so vile and rank
T hat he could hear no voices b u t his own. H e de­
served
To suffer and die. But Beowulf was a prince
52 B eo w u lf

W ell-loved, followed in friendship, not fear;

Hermod’s heart had been hollowed by sin. 913
The horses ran, when they could, on the gravel
Path. M orning slid past and was gone.
The whole brave company came riding to H erot,
Anxious to celebrate Beowulf’s success
A nd stare a t th at arm . A nd H rothgar rose 920
From beside his wife and came w ith his courtiers
Crowded around him . A nd W elthow rose
A nd joined him , his wife and queen w ith her
women,
All o f them walking to th at wonderful hall.

14
H rothgar stood a t the top o f the stairw ay $25
A nd stared at G rendel's great claw, swinging
H igh from th at gold-shining roof. Then he cried:
“Let G od be thanked! Grendel’s terrible
Anger hung over our heads too long,
D ropping dow n m isery; b u t the A lm ighty m akes
m irades 930
W hen H e pleases, w onder after w onder, and this
world
Rests in His hands. I had given up hope,
Exhausted prayer, expected nothing
But misfortune forever. H erot was empty,
Bloody; the wisest and best o f our people 933
D espaired as deeply, found hope no easier,
Knew nothing, no way to end this unequal
W ar o f m en and devils, warriors
And monstrous fiends. One m an found it,
Came to Denmark and with the Lord’s help 940
 B eo w u lf 53

D id w hat none o f the Danes could do,

O ur wisdom, our strength, worthless w ithout him .
The woman who bore him , whoever, wherever,
Alive now, o r dead, knew the grace o f the G od
O f our fathers, was granted a son for her glory 945
A nd H is. Beowulf, best o f soldiers,
Let m e take you to m y heart, m ake you m y son too,
A nd love you: preserve this passionate peace
Between us. A nd take, in return, w hatever
Y ou m ay w ant from w hatever I own. W arriors 950
Deserving far less have been granted as m uch,
G iven gifts and honored, though they fought
N o enemy like yours. G lory is now yours
Forever and ever, your courage has earned it,
A nd yo u r strength. M ay G od b e as good to you
forever 955
A s H e has been to you here!**
T hen B eow ulf an­
swered:
“W hat we did was w hat our hearts helped
O ur hands to perform ; we came to fight
W ith Gxendel, our strength against Ms. I wish 960
I could show you, here in H erot, his corpse
Stretched on this floor! I tw isted m y fingers
A round his claw, ripped and tore a t it
As h ard as I could:'I m eant to kill him
R ight here, hold him so tightly th a t Ms heart 963
W ould stop, would break, his life spill
O n this floor. But G od’s will was against me,
As hard as I held Mm he still pulled free
A nd ran, escaped from this hall w ith the strength
Fear had given Mm. B ut he offered m e Ms arm 9JO
A nd his daw , saved his life yet left me
T hat prize. A nd paying even so willingly
F or Ms freedom h e stul fled w ith nothing
B ut die end o f his evil days, ran
W ith death pressing a t his back, pain 975
Splitting his panicked heart, pulling him
Step by step into helL Let him bum
54 B eo w u lf

In torm ent, lying and trem bling, waiting

F or the brightness o f G od to bring him his reward.”
U nferth grew quiet, gave up quarreling over $80
Beowulf’s old battles, stopped all his boasting
Once everyone saw proof o f th at prince’s strength,
Grendel’s huge claw swinging high
From Hrothgar*s m ead-hall roof, the fingers
O f th at loathsom e hand ending in nails 98;
As hard as bright steel—so hard, they all said,
T hat not even the sharpest o f swords could have cut
It through, broken it off the m onster’s
A rm and ended its life, as Beowulf
H ad done arm ed w ith only his bare hands. 990

15
Then the king ordered H erot cleaned
A nd hung w ith decorations: hundreds o f hands,
M en and women, hurried to make
The great ball ready. Golden tapestries
W ere lined along the walls, for a host 993
O f visitors to see and take pleasure in. But th at
glorious
Building was bent and broken, its iron
Hinges cracked and sprung from their comers
A ll around the halL Only
Its ro o f was undam aged when the blood-stained
dem on xooo
Burst out o f H erot, desperately breaking
Beowulf’s grip, running wildly
From w hat no one escapes, struggle and writhe
As he will. W anting to stay we go,
A ll brings here on G od’s earth, wherever 1005
 B eo w u lf 55

It is w ritten that we go, taking our bodies

From death's cold bed to the unbroken sleep
That follows life’s feast.
Then H rothgar m ade his
way
To the hall; it was time, and his heart drew him 10 10
To the banquet. N o victory was celebrated better,
By m ore or by better m en and their king.
A m ighty host, and famous, they lined
The benches, rejoicing; the king and H rothulf,
His nephew, toasted each other, raised mead-cups IOI5
H igh under H erot’s great roof, their speech
Courteous and warm. K ing and people
W ere one; none o f the D anes was plotting,
Then, no treachery hid in their smiles.
H ealfdane’s son gave Beowulf a golden 1020
Banner, a fitting flag to signal
His victory, and gave him , as well, a helm et,
A nd a coat o f m ad, and an ancient sword;
They were brought to him while the w arriors
watched. Beowulf
D rank to those presents, not asham ed to be praised, 1025
R ichly rew arded in fro n t o f them all.
N o ring-giver has given four such gifts,
Passed such treasures through his hands, w ith the
grace
\n d w arm th that H rothgar showed. The helm et’s
Brim was wound w ith bands o f m etal, 1030
R ounded ridges to protect whoever
W ore it from swords swung in the fiercest
Battles, shining iron edges
In hostile hands. A nd then the protector
O f w arriors, lord o f the Danes, ordered 1033
Eight horses led to the hall, and into it,
Eight steeds w ith golden bridles. One stood
W ith a jew eled saddle on its back, carved
Like the king’s w ar-seat it was; it had carried
H rothgar when th at great son o f H ealfdane rode x040
To w ar—and each tim e carried him wherever
56 B eo w u lf

The fighting was m ost fierce, and his followers had

fallen.
Then Beowulf had been honored by both the gifts
H rothgar could have given him , horses and
weapons:
The king commanded him to use them w ell i045
Thus th at guardian o f Denmark’s treasures
H ad repaid a battle fought for his people
By giving noble gifts, had earned praise
For him self from those who try to know truth.

16
A nd more: the lord o f H erot ordered 1050
Treasure-gifts for each o f the Geats
W ho’d sailed w ith Beowulf and still sat beside him ,
Ancient arm or and swords—and for the one
M urdered by G rendel gold was carefully
Paid. The m onster would have m urdered again 1055
A nd again had not G od, and the hero’s courage,
Turned fate aside. Then and now
M en m ust lie in their M aker’s holy
H ands, moved only as H e wills:
O ur hearts m ust seek out that will. The world, 1060
A nd its long days full o f labor, brings good
A nd evil; all who rem ain here m eet both.
H rothgar’s hall resounded w ith the harp’s
H igh call, w ith songs and laughter and the telling
O f tales, stories sung by the court 1065
Poet as the joyful D anes drank
A nd listened, seated along their m ead-benches.
He told them o f Finn’s people, attacking
H naf with no warning, half wiping out
 B eo w u lf 57

T hat D anish tribe, and killing its king. 1070

Finn’s wife, H n af’s sister, learned w hat good faith
W as w orth to her husband: his honeyed words
A nd treachery cost her two belovéd fives,
H er son and her brother, both falling on spears
G uided by fate's hand. How she wept! 1075
A nd w hen m orning cam e she had reason to m ourn,
To weep for her dead, her slaughtered son
A nd the bloody corpse o f his uncle—both
The m en she m ost dearly loved, and whose love
She could tru st to pro tect her. B ut F in n 's troops,
too, 1080
H ad fallen to D anish spears: too few
W ere left to drive the D anes to their death,
To force H n a f's follow er, H engest, to flee
The hall where they’d fought and he’d stayed. F inn
offered them ,
Instead o f m ore w ar, words o f peace: 1085
There would be no victory, they’d divide the hall
A nd the throne, h alf to the D anes, h alf
To Finn’s followers. W hen gifts were given
F inn would give H engest and his soldiers half,
Share shining rings, silver 1090
A nd gold, w ith the D anes, b o th sides equal,
A ll o f them richer, all o f their purses
Heavy, every m an’s heart warm
W ith the com fort o f gold.
B oth sides accepted 109.5
Peace and agreed to keep it. F inn
Swore it w ith solem n oaths: w hat wise m en
H ad w ritten was his word as well as theirs.
H e and the brave H engest would live
Like brothers; neither leader n o r led w ould break zzoo
The truce, would not talk o f evil things,
Rem ind the D anes th at the m an they served
K illed H naf, their lord. They had no king,
A nd no choice. A nd he swore th a t his sw ord w ould
silence
W agging tongues if Frisian w arriors no?
58 B eo w u lf
Stirred up hatred, brought back the p a s t
A funeral pyre was prepared, and gold
W as brought; H naf’s dead body was dressed
F or burning, and the others w ith him. Bloody
M ail shirts could be seen, and golden helmets, X1IO
Some carved w ith boar-heads, all battle-hard
A nd as useless, now, as the corpses th a t still wore
them,
Soldier after soldier! Then H n af’s sister,
Finn’s sad wife, gave her son’s body
To be burned in th at fire; the flames charring in s
His uncle would consume both kinsmen at once.
Then she w ept again, and weeping sang
The dead’s last praise. The D anish king
W as lifted into place, smoke w ent curling
U p, logs roared, open 1120
W ounds split and burst, skulls
M elted, blood came bubbling down,
And the greedy fire-demons drank flesh and bones
From the dead o f both sides, until nothing was left.

17
Finn released a few o f his soldiers, 112}
Allowed them to return to their distant towns
And estates. Hengest lived the whole stormy
W inter through, there with Finn
W hom he hated. But his heart lived in Denmark—
W hich he and the other survivors could not visit, II}0
Could not sail to, as long as the wind-whipped sea
Crashed and whirled, or while winter’s cold hands
Froze the w ater hard, tied it
In icy knots. They would wait for the new year,
 B eo w u lf 59

F or spring to come following the sun, m elting 1x35

The old year away and reopening the ocean.
W inter was over, the earth grew lovely,
A nd H engest dream ed o f his hom e—but revenge
Cam e first, settling his b itter feud
W ith Finn, w hose bloody sw ord he could never 1x40
Forget. H e planned, he w aited, wove plans
A nd w aited. Then a D anish w arrior dropped
A sw ord in his lap, a w eapon F inn
A nd his m en rem em bered and feared, and the tim e
H ad com e, and H engest rose, hearing 1x45
The D anes’ m urm ur, and drove his new sword
Into F inn’s belly, butchering th a t king
U nder his own roof. A nd the D anes rose,
T heir hearts full o f F inn’s treachery,
A nd the m isery he’d brought them , th eir sword
arm s restless 1x30
A nd eager. T he h all they’d shared w ith th eir
enemies
R an red w ith enemy blood and bodies
R olled on the floor beside Finn. They took
The queen, looted everything they could find
T hat belonged to her dead husband, loaded 115 5
Their ship w ith lings, necklaces, shilling
Jewels wonderfully worked, and sailed
Bringing treasure and a willing captive to the land
She’d left and had longed for, alone no longer.
The singer finished his song; his listeners 1 x60
Laughed and drank, their pleasure loud
In th a t halL The cup-bearers hurried w ith their
sparkling
Vessels. A nd then the queen, W elthow, w earing
her bright crown,
A ppeared am ong them , cam e to H rothgar and
H rothulf, his nephew,
Seated peacefully together, their friendship and
H ro th u lf’s good faith still unbroken. u6j
A nd U nferth sat a t H rothgar’s feet; everyone
trusted him,
60 B eo w u lf

Believed in his courage, although he’d spilled his

relatives’ blood.
Then W elthow spoke:
“A ccept this cup,
My lord and king! M ay happiness come 1170.
To th e D anes’ great ring-giver; m ay the G eats
receive
M ild w ords from your m outh, w ords they have
earned!
Let gifts flow freely from your open hands,
Treasures your arm ies have brought you from all
over
The world. I have heard that the greatest o f the
G eats XJ75
Now rests in your heart like a son. H erot
Stands purged, restored by his strength: celebrate
H is courage, rejoice and be generous while a king­
dom
Sits in your palm, a people and power
T hat death will steal. But your sons will be safe, 1X80
Sheltered in H rothulf’s gracious protection,
I f fate takes their father while H rothulf is alive;
I know your nephew’s kindness, I know
He’ll repay in kind the goodness you have shown
him ,
Support your two young sons as you 1183
A na I sustained him in his own early days,
H is father dead and he but a boy.”
T hen she w alked to the bench w here H rethric
and H rothm und,
H er two sons, sat together; Beowulf,
Prince o f the Geats, was seated between them; XI90
Crossing the hall she sat quietly at their side.
 B eo w u lf 61

18
They brought a foam ing cup and offered it
To Beowulf; it was taken and given in friendship.
A nd he w as given a m ail sh irt, an d golden arm ­
bands,
A nd the m ost beautiful necklace known to men: 119 5
Nowhere in any treasure-hoard anywhere
On earth was there anything like it, n o t since
H am a carried the Brosings’ necklace
Home to his glorious city, saved
Its tight-carved jewels, and his skin, and his soul 1200
From Ermric’s treachery, and then came to G od.
H iglac had it next, Swerting’s
G randson; defending the golden hoard
H is battle-hard hands had w on for him, the G eats’
Proud king lost it, was carried away 120}
By fate when too m uch pride m ade him feud
W ith the Frisians. H e h ad asked for misery; it was
granted him .
H e’d borne those precious stones on a ship’s
Broad back; he fell beneath his shield.
H is body, and his shining coat o f mail, I2IO
A nd th a t necklace, all lay for Franks to pluck,
F o r jack al w arriors to find w hen they w alked
through
The rows o f corpses; G eats, and their king,
Lay slaughtered wherever the robbers looked.
The w arriors shouted. A nd W elthow spoke: 121$
“ W ear these bright jewels, belovéd Beowulf;
Enjoy them , and the rings, and the gold, oh fortu­
nate young
W arrior; grow richer, le t your fam e and your
strength
Go hand in hand; and lend these two boys
Y our wise and gentle heart! I ’ll rem em ber your 2220
Kindness. Y our glory is too great to forget:
I t will last forever, wherever the earth
62 B eo w u lf

Is surrounded by fhe sea, the winds' home,

And waves lap at its walls. Be happy
F or as long as you live! Y our good fortune warms 1225
My souL Spread your blesséd protection
Across my son, and m y king’s son!
A ll men speak softly, here, speak m ildly
A nd trust their neighbors, protect their lord,
Are loyal followers who would fight as joyfiiUy 2230
A s they drink. M ay your h e art help you do as I
ask!”
She returned to her seat. The soldiers ate
A nd drank like kings. The savage fate
D ecreed for them hung dark and unknow n, w hat
w ould follow
A fter nightfall, when H rothgar withdrew from the
hall, 2233
Sought his bed and left his soldiers
To theirs. H erot would house a host
O f m en, th at night, as it had been m eant to do.
They stacked away the benches, spread out
B lankets and pillow s. B ut those beer-drinking
sleepers 2240
Lay down w ith death beside their beds.
They slept with their shining shields at the edge
O f their pillows; the hall was filled w ith helmets
Hanging near motionless heads; spears
Stood by their hands, their hammered mail shirts 1243
Covered their chests. It was the Danes’ custom
To be ready for war, wherever they rested,
A t home or in foreign lands, at their lord’s
Quick call if he needed them, if trouble came
To their king. They knew how soldiers must live! 2230
 B e o w u lf 63

19
They sank into sleep. The price o f th a t evening's
R est was too high for the D ane who bought it
W ith his life, paying as others h ad paid
W hen Oxendel inhabited H erot, the hall.
H is till his crim es pulled him into hell.
A nd now it was know n th a t a m onster had died
B ut a m onster still lived, and m eant revenge.
She'd brooded on h er loss, m isery h ad brew ed
In h er heart, th a t fem ale h o n o r, G rendd’s
M other, living in the m urky cold lake »&>
Assigned h er since C ain h ad killed his only
B rother, slain his father's son
W ith a n angry sword. G od drove him Off,
O utlaw ed him to th e dry and barren desert,
A nd branded him w ith a m urderer's m ark. A nd h e
bore 1265
A race o f fiends accursed like their father;
So G rendel was draw n to H erot, an outcast
Come to m eet the m an who aw aited him .
H e’d m atched a t Beow ulf's arm , b u t th a t prince
R em em bered G od's grace an d th e stren g th H e'd
given him X270
A nd relied on th e L ord fo r a ll th e help,
T he com fort and support he w ould n e e d H e killed
T he m onster, as G od h ad m eant him to do,
T ore th e fiend ap art an d forced him
T o ru n as rapidly as he could tow ard death’s «7.5
C old w aiting hands. H is m other's sad heart,
A nd h er greed, drove h er fro m h er den on the
dangerous
Pathw ay o f revenge.
So she reached H erot,
W here th e D anes slept as though already dead; zsso
H er visit ended their good fortune, reversed
The bright vane o f their luck. N o fem ale, no m atter
H ow fierce, could have come w ith a m an's strength,
Fought w ith the pow er and courage m en fight w ith,
64 B e o w u lf

Smashing their shining swords, their bloody,

Hammer-forged blades onto boar-headed helmets,
Slashing and stabbing w ith the sharpest o f points.
The soldiers raised their shields ana drew
Those gleaming swords, swung them above
The piled-up benches, leaving their m ail shirts xa$o
A nd their helm ets where they'd lain when the ter­
ro r took hold o f them .
To save her life she m oved still faster,
Took a single victim and fled from the hall,
R unning to the m oors, discovered, b u t her supper
A ssured, sheltered in her dripping claws. 129}
She'd taken H rothgai's closest friend,
The m an he m ost loved o f all m en on earth;
She'd killed a glorious soldier, cut
A noble life short. N o G eat could have stopped
her:
Beowulf and his band had been given better 1300
Beds; sleep had come to them in a different
HalL Then all H erot burst into shouts:
She had carried off Gxendel’s daw . Sorrow
H ad returned-to Denm ark. They'd traded deaths,
D anes and m onsters, and no one had won, X305
B oth had lost!
The wise old king
Trem bled in anger and grief, his dearest
Friend and adviser dead. Beowulf
W as sent fo r a t once: a messenger w ent swiftly 13x0
To his room s and brought him . H e came, his band
A bout him , as dawn was breaking through,
The best o f all warriors, walking to where H rothgar
Sat waiting, the gray-haired king wondering
I f G od would ever end this misery. 1313
The G eats tram ped quickly through the hall; their
steps
Beat and echoed in the silence. Beowulf
Rehearsed the words he would want w ith H rothgar;
H e’d ask the Danes’ great lord if all
W ere a t peace, if the night had passed quietly. 13 3 0
 B e o w u lf 65

20
H rothgar answered him , protector o f his people;
“There’s no happiness to ask about! Anguish,
has. descended
On the D anes. Esher is dead, E rm laf’s
Older brother and m y own m ost trusted
Counselor and friend, m y com rade, when we w ent 1333
Into battle, who’d beaten back enemy swords,
Standing a t m y side. A ll m y soldiers
Should be as he was, their hearts as brave
A nd as wise! A nother wandering fiend
Has found him in H erat, m urdered him , fled 1330
W ith his corpse: he’ll be eaten, his flesh become
A horrible feast—and who knows where
The beast m ay be hiding, its belly stuffed full?
She’s taking revenge for your victoiy over G rendel,
F o r your strength, your m ighty grip, and th a t m on­
ster’s 1335
D eath. F or years he’d been preying on m y people;
You came, he was dead in a single day,
A nd now there’s another one, a second hungry
Fiend, determ ined to avenge the first,
A m onster willing and m ore than able 1340
To bring us m ore sorrow—or so it m ust seem
To the m any m en m ourning th a t noble
Treasure-giver, for all m en were treated
N obly by those hands now forever closed.
“I’ve heard th at my people, peasants working 1343
In the fields, have seen a pair o f such fiends
W andering in the moors and m arshes, giant
M onsters living in those desert lands.
A nd they’ve said to m y wise m en th at, as well as
they could see,
One o f the devils was a female creature. 1330
The other, they say, walked through the wilderness
Like a m an—but m ightier than any man.
They were frightened, and they fled, hoping to
find help
66 B e o w u lf

In H ero t They nam ed the hnge one G rendel:

I f he had a father no one knew him, 1333
O r whether there’d been others before these two,
H idden evil before hidden evil.
They live in secret places, windy
Cliffs, wolf-dens where w ater pours
From the rocks, then runs underground, where m ist ijfio
Steams like black clouds, and the groves o f trees
Growing out over their lake are all covered
W ith frozen spray, and wind down snakelike
Roots th at reach as far as the w ater
A nd help keep it dark. A t night th at lake X363
Bums like a torch. N o one knows its bottom ,
N o wisdom reaches such depths. A deer,
H unted through the woods by packs o f hounds,
A stag w ith great horns, though driven through
the forest
From faraw ay places, prefers to die 1370
On those shores, refuses to save its life
In that water. It isn’t far, nor is it
A pleasant spot! W hen the wind stirs
A nd storms, waves splash tow ard the sky,
As dark as the air, as black as the rain 1375
T hat the heavens weep. Our only help,
Again, lies w ith you. Grendel’s m other
Is hidden in her terrible home, in a place
You’ve not seen. Seek it, if you dare! Save us,
Once more, and again twisted gold, 1380
Heaped-up ancient treasure, will rew ard you
For the battle you win!”
 B e o w u lf 67

21
Beow olf spoke:
“L et your sorrow end! I t is better fo r us all
To avenge our M ends, n o t m ourn them forever. 139?
Each o f us w ill come to the end o f this life
On earth; he who can earn it should fight
F or the glory o f his nam e; fam e after death
Is the noblest o f goals. A rise, guardian
O f this kingdom , let us go, as quickly as we can, 7390
A nd have a look a t this lady m onster.
I prom ise you this: she’ll find no shelter,
N o hole in the ground, no tow ering tree,
N o deep bottom o f a lake, where her sins can hide.
Be patient for one m ore day o f m isery; 1395
I ask fo r no longer.**
The old king leaped
To his feet, gave thanks to G od for such words.
Then H rothgar’s horse was brought, saddled
A nd bridled. The Danes* wise ruler rode, i4°o
Statelv and splendid; shield-bearing soldiers
M arched a t his side. The m onster’s tracks
Led them through the forest; they follow ed h er
heavy
Feet, th a t had swept straight across
The shadowy waste land, her burden the lifeless i4°5
Body o f the best o f H rothgar’s m en.
The trail took them up towering, rocky
H ills, and over narrow , winding
Paths they had never seen, dow n steep
A nd slippery cliffs where creatures from deep 74x0
In the earth hid in their holes. H rothgar
R ode in front, w ith a few o f his m ost knowing
M en, to find their way. Then suddenly,
W here clumps o f trees bent across
Cold gray stones, they came to a dism al Uv
W ood; below them was the lake, its w ater
Bloody and bubbling. A nd the D anes shivered,
M iserable, m ighty m en torm ented
68 B e o w u lf

By grief, seeing, there on th at cliff

Above the water, Esher’s bloody 24»
H ead. They looked down a t the lake, felt
How its heat rose up, watched the waves’
Blood-stained swirling. Their battle horns sounded,
Then sounded again. Then they set down their
weapons.
They could see the w ater crawling w ith snakes, 1433
Fantastic serpents swimming in the boiling
Lake, and sea beasts lying on the rocks
—The kind th at infest the ocean, in the early
Dawn, often ending some ship’s
Journey w ith their wild jaw s. They rushed 1430
Angrily out o f sight, w hen the battle horns blew,
Beowulf aimed an arrow a t one
O f the beasts, swimming sluggishly away.
A nd the point pierced its hide, stabbed
To its heart; its life leaked out, death 1433
Swept it off. Quickly, before
The dying m onster could escape, they hooked
Its thrashing body with their curved boar-spears,
Fought it to land, drew it up on the bluff,
T hen stood an d stared a t the incredible w ave-
roam er, 1440
Covered w ith strange scales an d horrible. Then
Beowulf
Began to fasten on his arm or,
N ot afraid for his life but knowing the woven
M ail, w ith its ham m ered links, could save
T hat life when he lowered him self into the lake, 1443
K eep slimy monsters’ daw s from snatching at
H is heart, preserve him for the battle he was sent
To fight. H rothgar’s helm et would defend him ;
T hat ancient, shining treasure, encircled
W ith hard-rolled m etal, set there by some sm ith's x&o
Long dead hand, would block all battle
Swords, stop all blades from cutting a t him
W hen he’d swum tow ard the bottom , gone down
in the surging
 B e o w u lf 69

W ater, deep tow ard the swirling sands.

A nd U nferth helped him, H rothgar’s courtier *455
Lent him a famous weapon, a fine,
H ilted old sword nam ed H runting; it had
A n iron blade, etched and shining
A nd hardened in blood. N o one who’d w orn it
Into battle, swung it in dangerous places, J4So
D aring and brave, had ever been deserted—
N or was Beowulf’s journey the first tim e it was
taken
To an enemy’s camp, o r asked to support
Some hero’s courage and win him glory.
U nferth had tried to forget his greeting 1465
To Beowulf, his drunken speech o f welcome;
A m ighty w arrior, he lent his w eapon
To a better one. Only Beowulf w ould risk
His life in th at lake; U nferth was afraid,
G ave up th at chance to work wonders, win glory *47o
A nd a hero’s fame. But Beowulf and fear
W ere strangers; he stood ready to dive into battle.

22
T hen Edgetho’s brave son spoke:
“Rem em ber,
H rothgar, O h knowing king, now 1475
W hen m y danger is near, th e w arm w ords we
uttered,
A nd if your enemy should end my life
Then be, oh generous prince, forever
The father and protector o f all whom I leave
Behind me, here in your hands, m y belovéd 1480
70 B e o w u lf

Comrades left with no leader, their leader

Dead. A nd the precious gifts you gave me,
My friend, send them to Higlac. M ay he see
In their golden brightness, the G eats’ great lord
Gazing a t your treasure, th at here in D enm ark 1483
I found a noble protector, a giver
O f rings whose rewards I w on and briefly
Relished. A nd you, U nferth, let
M y famous old sword stay in your hands:
I shall shape glory w ith H runting, or death x#o
W ill hurry m e from this earth!"
As his words ended
H e leaped in to th e lake, w ould no t w ait for any­
one’s
Answer; the heaving w ater covered him
Over. F or hours he sank through the waves;
A t last he saw the m ud o f the bottom .
A nd all a t once the greedy she-wolf
W ho’d ruled those w aters for h a lf a hundred
Y ears discovered him , saw th a t a creature
From above had come to explore the bottom xyn
O f her w et world. She welcomed him in her claws,
Clutched a t him savagely b u t could n o t harm him ,
Tried to w ork her fingers through the tight
Ring-woven m ail on his breast; b u t tore
A nd scratched in vain. Then she carried him , arm or xjoj
A nd sword and all, to her home; he struggled
To free his weapon, and failed. The fight
Brought other m onsters swimming to see
H er catch, a host o f sea beasts who beat a t
His m ail shirt, stabbing w ith tusks and teeth 1510
As they followed along. Then he realized, suddenly,
T hat she’d brought him into someone’s battle-hall,
A nd there the w ater’s heat could not h urt him,
N or anything in the lake attack him through
The building’s high-arching roof. A brilliant xyxy
Light burned all around him, the lake
Itself like a fiery flame.
Then he saw
 B e o w u lf 71

H ie m ighty w ater witch, and swung his sword,

His ring-m arked blade, straight a t her head; 1320
The iron sang its fierce song,
Sang B eow ulf's strength. B ut her guest
Discovered th at no sword could slice her evil
Skin, th at H runting could not h u rt her, was useless
Now w hen he needed i t They wrestled, she ripped 152;
A nd tore and clawed a t him , b it holes in his helm et,
A nd th a t too failed him ; for the first tim e in years
O f being w orn to w ar it would earn no glory;
It was the last tim e anyone w ould w ear i t But
Beow ulf
Longed only for fame, leaped back Z330
Into battle. He tossed his sword aside,
A ngry; the steel-edged blade lay w here
He’d dropped it. I f weapons were useless he’d use
IBs hands, the strength in his fingers. So fam e
Comes to the m en who m ean to win it 1535
A nd care about nothing else! H e raised
His arm s and seized her by the shoulder; anger
D oubled his strength, he threw her to the floor.
She fell, G rendel’s fierce m other, and the G eats'
Proud prince was ready to leap on her. But she
rose 1340
A t once and repaid him w ith her clutching claws,
W ildly tearing at him . H e was weary, th a t best
A nd strongest o f soldiers; his feet stum bled
A nd in an instant she had him down, held helpless.
Squatting w ith her weight on his stom ach, she drew 1345
A dagger, brow n w ith dried blood, and prepared
To avenge her only son. B ut he was stretched
On his back, and her stabbing blade was blunted
By the woven m ail shirt he wore on his ch est
The ham m ered links held; the point 1330
Could not touch him. H e’d have traveled to the
bottom o f the earth,
Edgetho’s son, and died there, if th at shining
W oven m etal had not helped—and H oly
G od, who sent Him victory, gave judgm ent
72 B e o w u lf

For truth and right, Ruler of the Heavens, 1333

Once Beowulf was back on his feet and fighting.

23
Then he saw, hanging on the wall, a heavy
Sword, hammered by giants, strong
And blessed with their magic, the best of all
weapons
But so massive that no ordinary man could lift
Its carved and decorated length. He drew it
From its scabbard, broke the chain on its hilt,
And then, savage, now, angry
And desperate, lifted it high over his head
And struck with all the strength he had left, Xjtfj
Caught her in the neck and cut it through,
Broke bones and alL Her body fell
To the floor, lifeless, the sword was wet
With her blood, and Beowulf rejoiced at the sight.
The brilliant light shone, suddenly, *370
As though burning in that hall, and as bright as
Heaven’s
Own candle, lit in the sky. He looked
At h a home, then following along the wall
Went walking, his hands tight on the sword,
His heart still angry. He was hunting another *373
Dead monster, and took his weapon with him
For final revenge against Grendel’s vicious
Attacks, his nighttime raids, over
And over, coming to Herot when Hrothgar’s
Men slept, killing them in their beds, *580
Eating some on die spot, fifteen
Or more, and running to his loathsome moor
 B e o w u lf 73

W ith another such sickening m eal w aiting

In his pouch. But Beowulf repaid him for those
visits,
Found him lying dead in his com er, xjbj
Armless, exactly as th at fierce fighter
H ad sent him out from H erat, m en struck off
H is head w ith a single swift blow. The body
Jerked fo r the last tune, then lay stilL
The wise old w arriors who surrounded H rothgar, 1390
Like him staring in to the m onsters' lake,
Saw the waves surging and blood
Spurting through. They spoke about B eow ulf
A ll the graybeards, whispered together
A nd said th at hope was gone, th a t the hero 1595
H ad lost fam e and his life a t once, and w ould never
R eturn to the living, come back as trium phant
A s he h ad left; alm ost all agreed th at G rendel’s ,
M ighty m other, th e she-wolf, had killed him .
The sun slid over p ast noon, w ent further 1600
Down. The D anes gave up, left
The lake and w ent hom e, H rothgar w ith them .
The G eats stayed, sat sadly, w atching,
Imagining they saw their lord b u t n o t believing
They w ould ever see him again.
—Then the sword 1605
M elted, blood-soaked, dripping dow n
Like w ater, disappearing like ice w hen th e world’s
E ternal L ord loosens invisible
Fetters and unwinds icicles and frost
As only H e can, H e who rules 16 10
Tim e and seasons, H e w ho is truly
G od. T he m onsters’ hall was full o f
R ich treasures, b u t all th at Beowulf took
W as G rendel’s head and the h ilt o f the giants'
Jeweled sword; the rest o f th at ring-m arked 1613
Blade had dissolved in G rendel’s steam ing
Blood, boiling even after his death.
A nd then the battle’s only survivor
Swam up and away from those silent corpses;
74 B e o w u lf

The w ater was calm and clean, die whole 1620

H uge lake peaceful once the dem ons who’d lived
in it
W ere dead.
Then th at noble protector o f all seamen
Swam to land, rejoicing in the heavy
Burdens he was bringing w ith him. H e 1625
A nd all his glorious band o f G eats
Thanked G od th a t their leader h ad come back
unharm ed;
They left the hike together. The Geats
C arried Beowulf’s helmet, and his m ail shirt.
Behind them the w ater slowly thickened 1630
As the monsters’ blood came seeping up.
They walked quickly, happily, across
R oads all o f them remembered, left
The lake and the cliffs alongside it, brave men
Staggering under the weight o f Grendel’s skull, »$33
Too heavy for fewer than four o f them to handle—
Two on each side o f the spear jam m ed through it—
Yet proud o f their ugly load and determ ined
T hat the Danes, seated in H erot, should see i t
Soon, fourteen G eats arrived 1640
A t the hall, bold and warlike, and w ith Beowulf,
Their lord and leader, they walked on the mead-hall
Green. Then the Geats’ brave prince entered
H erot, covered w ith glory for die daring
Battles he had fought; he sought H rothgar 164s
To salute him and show G rendel's head.
He carried th at terrible trophy by the hair,
Brought it straight to where the Danes sat.
Drinking, the queen among them. It was a weird
A nd wonderful sight, and me warriors stared. 2630
 B e o w u lf 75

24
Beow ulf spoke:
“H rothgar! Behold,
G reat H ealfdaue’s son, this glorious sign
O f victory, brought you by joyful G eats.
M y life was alm ost lost, fighting for it, z6&
Struggling underw ater: rd h a v e been dead at once,
A nd the fight finished, the she-devil victorious,
I f o u r F a th e r in H eaven h a d n o t helped m e.
H runting,
U nferth’s noble w eapon, could do nothing,
N or could I, until the R uler o f the w orld 1660
Showed m e, hanging shining and beautiful
O n a w all, a m ighty old sword—so G od
Gives guidance to those who can find it from no one
Else. I used the w eapon H e h ad offered me,
D rew it and, w hen 1 could, swung it, killed *665
The m onstrous hag in her own hom e.
T hen the ring-m arked blade burned away,
As th a t boiling blood spilled out. I carried
O ff all th a t w as left, this hilt.
I ’ve avenged th eir crim es, a n d th e D anes they’ve
killed. 1670
A nd I prom ise you th a t whoever sleeps in H erot
—Y on, your brave soldiers, anyone
O f all the people in D enm ark, old
O r young—they, and you, m ay now sleep
W ithout fear o f either m onster, m other z675
O r son.”
T hen he gave file golden sword h ilt
T o H rothgar, who held it in his w rinkled hands
A nd stared a t w hat giants h ad m ade, an d m onsters
Owned; it was his, an ancient w eapon 1680
Shaped by wondexful sm iths, now th a t G rendel
A nd his evil m other h ad been driven from the earth,
G od’s enemies scattered and dead. T hat best
O f swords belonged to the best o f D enm ark’s
76 B e o w u lf

Rulers, the wisest ring-giver D anish 1685

W arriors had ever known. The old king
Bent close to the handle o f the ancient relic,
A nd saw w ritten there the story o f ancient wars
Between good and evil, the opening o f the w aters,
The Flood sweeping giants away, how they suffered 1690
A nd died, th a t race who hated th e R uler
O f us all and received judgm ent from His hands,
Surging waves th at found m em wherever
They fled. A nd H rothgar saw runic letters
G early carved in th at shining hilt, 1695
Spelling its original owner’s nam e,
H e for whom it was made, w ith its tw isted
H andle and snakelike carvings. Then he spoke,
H ealfdane’s son, and everyone was silent.
“W hat I say, speaking from a full memory 2700
And after a life spent in seeking
W hat was right fo r m y people, is this: this prince
O f the Geats, Beowulf, was bom a better
M an! Y our fame is everywhere, my friend,
Reaches to the ends o f the earth, and you hold it
in your heart wisely, 1705
Patient w ith your strength and our weakness. W hat
I said 1 will do, I will do,
In the nam e o f the friendship we’ve sw orn. Y our
strength m ust solace your people^
Now, and mine no longer.
“Be n o t
As Hermod once was to my people, too proud *7*°
To care w hat their hearts hid, bringing them
Only destruction and slaughter. In his m ad
Rages he killed them himself, comrades
A na followers who ate a t his table. At the end
He was alone, knew none of the joys o f life
W ith other men, a famous ruler
G ranted greater strength than anyone
Alive in his day but dark and bloodthirsty
In sp irit He shared out no treasure, showed
His soldiers no road to riches and fame.
 B e o w u lf 77

A nd then th at affliction on his people's face

Suffered horribly for his sins. Be taught
By his lesson, learn w hat a king m ust be:
I tell his tale, old as I am ,
Only for you. 172?
“O ur eternal Lord
G rants som e m en wisdom, som e w ealth, m akes
others
G re a t The world is G od’s, H e allows
A m an to grow fam ous, and his fam ily rich,
Gives him land and towns to rule 2730
A nd delight in, lets his kingdom reach
As far as the w orld runs—and w ho
In hum an unwisdom, in the m iddle o f such power.
Remembers th at it all will end, and too soon?
Prosperity, prosperity, prosperity: nothing 1733
Troubles h in t no sickness, no t passing tim e,
N o sorrows, no sudden w ar breaking
O ut o f nowhere, b u t all the w orld turns
W hen he spins i t How can he know w hen he sins?

25

"A nd then pride grows in his heart, planted 2740

Q uietly bu t flourishing A nd while the keeper o f his
soul
Sleeps on, while conscience rests and the world
T urns faster a m urderer creeps closer, com es carry­
ing
A tight-strung bow w ith terrible arrow s.
A nd those sharp points strike home, are shot 1743
In his b re a st under his h elm et H e’s helpless.
78 B e o w u lf

A nd so the Devil’s dark urgings w ound him , for he

can’t
Remember how he clung to the rotting wealth
O f this w orld, how he claw ed to keep it, how he
earned
N o honor, no glory, in giving golden xjy>
Rings, how he forgot the future glory
G od gave him at his birth, and forgetting did not
care.
A nd finally his body fails him, these bones
A nd flesh quickened by G od fall
A nd die—and some other soul inherits m3
His place in Heaven, some open-handed
Giver o f old treasures, who takes no delight
In mere gold. G uard against such wickedness,
Belovéd Beowulf, best o f warriors,
And choose, instead, eternal happiness; 1760
Push away pride! Your strength, your power,
A re yours for how m any years? Soon
You’ll return them where they came from, sickness
or a sword's edge
W ill end them, or a grasping fire, or the flight
O f a spear, or surging waves, or a knife’s 1765
Bite, or the terror o f old age, or your eyes
D arkening over. It will come, death
Comes faster than you think, no one can flee i t
“So I have led the Danes for half
A hundred years, protected them from all peoples 1770
On this earth, my sword and my spear so ready
That no one anywhere under God’s high sun
Was eager to wage war here in Denmark.
A nd here, here too the change has come,
A nd we wept for our dead when G rendel invaded 1775
H erot, my enemy raided this hall;
My sorrow, my grief, was as great and lasting
As it was helpless. Then thanks be given to God,
Eternal Lord of us all: you came
And that endless misery was over and I lived, rj8o
Now, to behold this bloody head!
 B e o w u lf 79

Go in, go in: feast, be as happy

As your fam e deserves. W hen m orning shines
We shall each have owned m ore o f my treasures.”
Beowulf obeyed him , entered H erot 175$
Cheerfully and took his place a t the table.
A nd once again D anes and G eats
Feasted together, a host o f fam ous
W arriors in a single halL—T hen the web
O f darkness fell and it was n ig h t They rose; 1790
H rothgar, the gray-haired old D ane, was heavy
W ith sleep. A nd Beowulf was glad th a t a bed
W as w aiting, the bravest o f w arriors exhausted
W ith the work he’d done. A D anish servant
Showed him th e road to th a t far-off, quiet rj&
C ountry w here sleep w ould command take him
A nd his followers; H rothgar’s visitors were well
C ared for, w hatever they needed was theirs.
Then Beowulf rested; H erot rose high
Above him , gleam ing in the darkness; the G eats *&x>
Slept till a black-feathered raven sang
H is cheerful song and the shining sun
Burned aw ay shadows. A nd those seafarers hurried
From their beds, anxious to begin th e voyage
Home, ready to start, their hearts i8oj
A lready saiung on a ship’s swift back.
Then U nferth came, w ith H runting, his famous
Sword, and offered it to Beowulf, asked him
To accept a precious g ift The prince
Took i t thanked him , and declared the w eapon 1810
One he was proud to own; his w ords
Blamed it for nothing, were spoken like the hero
H e wasl The w ar-gear was ready, the G eats
W ere arm ored and eager to be gone. Quickly,
Beowulf sought H rothgar’s throne, w here the king i Sij
Sat w aiting for his fam ous visitor’s farew ell.
80 B e o w u lf

26
Beowulf spoke:
“We crossed the sea
To come here; it is time to return, to go back
To our belovéd lord, Higlac. Denm ark i8ao
W as a gracious host; you welcomed us warmly.
Anything 1 can do, here on this earth,
To earn your love, oh great king, anything
M ore than I have done, battles I can fight
In your honor, summon me, I will come as I came i&y
Once before. If I hear, from across the ocean,
T hat your neighbors have threatened you w ith
war, or oppressed you
As enemies once oppressed you, here, I will bring
A thousand warriors, a thousand arm ed Geats
To protect your throne. I trust Higlac: 1830
Our king is young, but if I need his help
To better help you, to lend you our strength,
Our battle-sharp spears, to shield you and honor
you
As you deserve, I know his words and his deeds
Will support me. A nd someday, if your oldest son, 1833
Hrethric, comes visiting our court, he will find
A host o f good friends among the G eats:
No one who goes visiting far-off lands
Is more welcome than a strong and noble warrior.**
H rothgar replied: 1840
“All-knowing G od
M ust have sent you such words; nothing so wise
From a w arrior so young has ever reached
These ancient ears. Your hands are strong,
Y our heart and your lips are knowing! If your lord, 1845
Hrethel’s son, is slain by a spear,
Or falls sick and dies, or is killed by a sword,
A nd you have survived whatever battle
Sweeps him off, I say that the Geats
Could do no better, find no m an better 1850
 B e o w u lf 81

Suited to be king, keeper o f w arriors

A nd their treasure, than you—if you take the throne
They will surely offer you. Belovéd Beowulf,
Y ou please me m ore die longer I can keep you
H ere in Denm ark. You’ve turned D anes
A nd G eats into brothers, brought peace where once
There was war, and sealed friendship w ith affection.
This will last as long as I live, and am king here:
W e will share our treasures, greeting travelers
From across the sea w ith outstretched hands; i860
Ring-prowed ships will carry our gifts
A nd die tokens o f our love. Y our people live
By the old ways, their hearts, like ours, are forever
O pen to their friends, b u t firmly closed
A gainst their enemies.” 186}
Then he gave the Geats*
Prince a dozen new gifts, prayed
F o r his safety, commanded lum to seek his people,
Y et n o t to delay too long in visiting
H rothgar once more. The old king kissed him , 1870
H eld .that best o f all warriors by the shoulder
A nd wept, unable to hold back his tears.
G ray and wise, he knew how slim
W ere his chances o f ever greeting Beowulf
Again, bu t seeing his face he was forced 187$
To hope. H is love was too warm to be hidden,
His tears came running too quickly to be checked;
His very blood burned w ith longing.
A nd then Beowulf left him, left H erot, walked
Across the green in his golden arm or, 1880
Exulting in the treasures heaped high in his arms.
His ship was at anchor; he had it ready to sail.
A nd so H rothgar’s rich treasures would leave him,
travel
F ar from that perfect king, w ithout fault
O r blam e until winter had followed w inter 1885
A nd age had stolen his strength, spirited it
Off, as it steals from many men.
82 B e o w u lf

2 7

Then the band o f G eats, young and brave,

M arching in their ring-locked arm or, reached
The shore. The coast-guard saw them coming z8po
A nd about to go, as he’d seen them before;
He hurried down the hillside, whipping
His horse, b u t this tim e shouted no challenge,
Told them only how the Geats would be watching
Too, and would welcome such warriors in shining zspj
M ail Their broad-beam ed ship lay bobbing
A t the edge o f the sand: they loaded it high
W ith arm or and horses and all the rich treasure
It could hold. The m ast stood high and straight
Over heaped-up wealth—H rothgar’s, a n a now
theirs. zpoo
Beowulf rew arded the boat’s watchman,
Who had stayed behind, with a sword th at had ham­
m ered
G old wound on its handle: the weapon
Brought him honor. Then the ship left shore, left
Denm ark,
Traveled through deep water. D eck tim bers creaked, zpoj
A nd the wind billowing through the sail stretched
From the m ast, tied tig h t w ith ropes, did n o t hold
them
Back, did not keep the ring-prowed ship
From foaming swiftly through the waves, the sea
Currents, across the wide ocean until Z910
They could see fam iliar headlands, diffs
T hat sprang out o f G eatish soil. D riven
By the wind the ship rammed high on the shore.
H arbor guards came running to greet them ,
M en who for days had waited and watched ipy
F o r their belovéd com rades to com e crossing the
waves;
They anchored the high-bowed ship, m oored it
Close to the shore, where the booming sea
 B e o w u lf 83

Could not pull it loose and lead it away.

Then they carried up the golden arm or, 1920
The ancient swords, the jewels, brought them
To Higlac’s home, their ring-giver’s hall
N ear the sea, where he lived surrounded
By his followers.
H e was a fam ous king, w ith a fitting 19 23
H igh hall and a wife, Higd, young
But wise and knowing beyond her years.
She was H areth’s daughter, a noble queen
W ith none o f the niggardly ways o f women
Like Thrith. Higd gave the G eats gifts 1930
W ith open hands. But Thrith was too proud,
A n im perious princess w ith a vicious tongue
A nd so fierce and wild th at her father’s followers
A verted their eyes as she passed, knowing
T hat if anyone b u t th eir king w atched w here she
walked 1935
H er hands would shape a noose to fit
Their necks. She would lie, her father’s lieutenants
W ould w rite out her w arrants, and he who had
stared
W ould end his life on the edge o f an ancient
Sword. A nd how great a sin for a woman, 1940
W hether fair or black, to create fear
A nd destruction, for a woman, who should walk in
the ways
O f peace, to kill with pretended insults.
B ut Hemming’s kinsm an tam ed her: his hall-guests
Told a different story, spread the news 1943
T hat Thrith had forgotten her gory tricks
Once her wise father had sent her to a wedding
W ith Oflfa, m arried her to that brave young soldier,
Sent her across the yellow-green sea
To that gold-adorned champion, a fierce fighter 1930
In war or peace. They praised her, now,
F or her generous heart, and her goodness, and the
high
A nd most noble paths she walked, filled
84 B e o w u lf

W ith adoring love for th at leader o f w arriors,

H er husband; he was a m an as brave and strong
A nd good, it is said, as anyone on this earth,
A spear-bold soldier who Knew no fear,
Exalted w ith gifts, victorious in w ar,
A king who ruled his native land
Wisely and well. Em er was his son, *960
Hemming's kinsman, G annund’s grandson,
A powerful swordsman and his w arriors’ shield.

28
Then Beowulf and his m en w ent walking along
The shore, down the broad strip o f sand.
The w orld's bright candle shone, hurrying 1965
U p from the south. It was a short journey
From their ship to Higlac’s hom e, to the hall
W here their king, Ongentho’s killer, lived
W ith his w arriors and gave treasures away. They
w alked
Quickly. The youns king knew
They were back, Beowulf and his handful o f brave 570
M en, come safely home; he sat,
Now, waiting to see them , to greet
His battle-com rades when they arrived at his co u rt
They cam e. A nd w hen B eow ulf h ad bowed to
his lord, xS7.
A nd standing in front o f the throne had solemnly
Spoken loyal words, Higlac
Ordered him to sit at his side—he
W ho had survived, sailed home victorious, next to
His kinsman and king. M ead cups were filled *586
 B e o w u lf 85

A nd H areth’s daughter took them through the hall,

C arried ale to her husband’s comrades.
Higlac, unable to stay silent, anxious
To know how Beowulf’s adventure had gone,
Began to question him , courteous b u t eager
To be told everything.
“Belovéd Beowulf,
Tell us w hat your trip to far-off places
Brought you, your sudden expedition o n the salty
W aves, your search for w ar in H erot? 1-990
D id you end H rothgar’s hopeless misery,
Could you help th at glorious king? G rendel’s
Savagery lay heavy on m y heart b u t I was afraid
To le t you go to him ; for a long tim e
1 held y o u here, kept you safe, xgg$
Forced you to m ake the D anes fight
Their own battles. G od be praised
T h at m y eyes have beheld you once m ore, un­
harm ed!”
Beow ulf spoke, Edgetho’s brave son:
“M y lo rd Higlac, m y m eeting w ith G rendel 2000
A nd the nighttim e battle we fought are known
T o everyone in D enm ark, w here th e m onster was
once
The uncrow ned ruler, m urdering and eating
H rothgar’s people, forever bringing them
M isery. I ended his reign, avenged aooy
H is crim es so com pletely in the crashing darkness
T h at n o t even the oldest o f his evil kind
W ill ever bqast, lying in sin
A nd deceit, th a t the m onster beat me. I sought out
H rothgar, first, cam e to him in his hall; 2010
W hen H ealfdane’s fam ous son heard
T h at F d come to challenge G rendel, he gave m e
A seat o f honor alongside his son.
His followers were drinking; I joined their feast,
Sat w ith th a t band, as bright and loud-tongued aoiy
As any I’ve ever seen. H is famous
Queen w ent back and forth, hurrying
86 B e o w u lf

The cup-bearing boys, giving bracelets

A nd rings to her husband's warriors. 1 heard
The oldest soldiers o f all calling aoao
F or ale from H rothgar’s daughter's hands,
A nd Freaw was the way they greeted her when she
gave them
The golden cups. A nd H rothgar will give her
To Ingeld, gracious Froda's son;
She and th at ripening soldier will be m arried, aoej
The D anes' great lorn and protector has declared,
H oping th a t his quarrel w ith the H athobards can
be settled
By a woman. H e's wrong: how m any wars
Have been put to rest in a prince's bed?
Few. A bride can bring a little 2030
Peace, m ake spears silent for a tim e,
But not long. Ingeld and all his m en
W ill be drinking in the hall, w hen the wedding is
done
A nd Freaw is his wife; the D anes will be wearing
Gleaming arm or and ring-marked old swords; »3}
A nd the prince and his people w ill rem em ber those
treasures,
W ill rem em ber th a t their fathers once w ore them ,
fell
W ith those helm ets on their heads, those swords in
their hands.

29
"A nd seeing their ancestral arm or and weapons
Ingeld and his followers will be angry. A nd one *>4°
 B e o w u lf 87

O fhis soldiers, sitting w ith ale in his cap

A nd bitterness heavy in his heart, will rem em ber
W ar and death, and while he sits and drinks
His sharp old tongue will begin to tem pt
Some younger w arrior, pushing and probing 2045
F or a new war:
“ ‘T h at sword, th a t precious o ld
blade
O ver there, I think you know it, friend.
Y our fath er carried it, fought w ith it th e last tim e
H e could swing a sword; the D anes killed him * 9°
—A nd m any m ore o f our m en—and stripped
T he dead bodies: th e brave, bold D anes!
One o f the princess* people, here,
N ow, m ight be the m urderer’s son,
Boasting about his treasures, his ancient *>*$
A rm or—w hich ought to be yours, by right.*
“B itter wbrds w ill w ork in a hot-tem pered
Brain, pushing up thoughts o f the past,
A nd then, when he can, calling his father's
N am e, the youngster will kill some innocent 2060
D ane, a servant—and bloody sword
In hand will run from the hall, knowing
His way through the woods. But w ar m il begin
As he runs, to the sound o f broken oaths,
A nd its heat will dry up Ingeld’s heart, 206)
Leave him indifferent to his D anish bride.
H rothgar m ay think the H athobards love him,
Loving Freaw, but the friendship can’t last,
The vows are worthless.
“But o f G rendel: you need to 2070
K now m ore to know everything; I ought to
G o on. It was early in the evening, Heaven’s
Jewel had slid to its rest, and the jealous
M onster, planning m urder, came seeking us
O ut, stalking us as we guarded H rothgaPs 2075
H all. Hondshew, sleeping in his arm or,
W as the first G eat he reached: G rendel
88 B e o w u lf

Seized him, tore him apart, swallowed him

Down, feet and all, as fate
Had decreed—a glorious young soldier, killed
In his prime. Yet Giendd had only begun
His bloody work, meant to leave us
With his belly and his pouch both full, and Herot
Half-empty. Then he tested his strength against
mine,
Hand to hand. His pouch hung
At his aide^ a huge bag sewn
From a dragon’s skin, worked with a devil’s
Skill; it was dosed by a marvelous clasp.
The monster intended to take me, put me
Inside, save me for another meaL
He was bold and strong, but once I stood
On my feet his strength was usdess, and it failed
him.

30
’The whole tale of how I killed him,
Repaid him in kind for all the evil
He’d done, would take too long: your people,
My prince, were honored in the doing. He escaped,
Found a few minutes of life, hut his hand,
His whole right arm, stayed in Herot;
The miserable creature crept away,
Dropped to the bottom ofhis lake, half dead
As he fell When the sun had returned, the Danes’
Great king poured out treasure, repaid me
In hammered gold for the bloody battle
I’d fought in lus name. He ordered a feast;
 B e o w u lf 89

T here w ere songs, and the telling o f tales. One

ancient axoj
D ane told o f long-dead times,
A nd sometimes H rothgar himself, w ith the harp
In his lap, stroked its silvery strings
A nd told wonderful stories, a brave king
R eciting unhappy truths about good ano
A nd evil—and sometimes he wove his stories
O n the m ournful thread o f old age, rem em bering
B uried strength and the battles it had w on.
H e would weep, the old king, wise w ith m any
W inters, rem em bering w hat he’d done, once, ry
W hat he’d seen, w hat he knew. A nd so we sat
The day away, feasting. Then darkness
Fell again, and O iendel’s m other
W as w aiting, ready for revenge, hating
The D anes fo r her son’s death. The m onstrous am
H ag succeeded, burst boldly into H erot
A nd killed Esher, one o f the king’s oldest
A nd wisest soldiers. But when th e sun shone
Once m ore the death-w eary D anes could n o t build
A pyre and bum his belovéd body, azaj
L ay him on flaming logs, return ashes
To dust: she'd earned away his corpse,
Brought it to h a den deep in th e w ater.
H rothgar h ad w ept fo r m any o f his m en,
B ut this tim e his heart m elted, this 2 13 0
W as th e w o rst H e begged m e, in your nam e, half­
weeping
A s he spoke, to seek still greater glory
D eep in the swirling waves, to w in
Still higher flame, and the gifts he w ould give me.
D ow n in th a t surging lake I sought «35
A nd found her, the horrible hag, fierce
A nd wild; we fo u g h t clutching and grasping;
The w ater ra n red w ith blood and a t la s t
W ith a m ighty sword th a t had hung on the w ait
I cut off her head. I had barely escaped ai4o
90 B e o w u lf

W ith m y life, my death was n o t w ritten. A nd the

Danes*
Protector, Healfdane’s great son, heaped up
Treasures and precious jewels to rew ard me.

31
“He lived his life as a good king m ust:
I lost nothing, none of the gifts au&
My strength could have earned me. H e opened his
store
O f gems and armor, let me choose as 1 liked,
So I could bring his riches to you, my ruler,
And prove his friendship, and my love. Your favor
Still governs my life: I have almost no family, aiy>
Higlac, alm ost no one, now, but you.”
Then Beowulf ordered them to bring in the boar-
head
Banner, the towering helmet, the ancient,
Silvery arm or, and the gold-carved sword:
“This war-gear was Hrothgar’s reward, my gift su55
From his wise old hands. He wanted me to tell you,
First, whose treasures these were. H ergar
H ad owned them, his older brother, who was king
O f Denm ark until death gave H rothgar the throne:
But H ergar kept them , would not give them to
H erw ard, ax6o
His brave young son, though the boy had proved
His loyalty. These are yours: may they serve you
well!”
And after the gleaming armor four horses
Were led in, four bays, swift and all
Alike. Beowulf had brought his king ai6 j
Horses and treasure—as a m an must,
 B e o w u lf 91
Not weaving nets of malice for Bis comrades,
Preparing their death in the dark, with secret,
Cunning tricks. Higlac trusted
His nephew, leaned on his strength, in war, 217 0
Each of them intent on the other’s joy.
And Beowulf gave Welthow*s gift, her wonderful
Necklace, to Higd, Higlac’s queen,
And gave her, also, three supple, graceful,
Saddle-bright horses; she received his presents, 2m
Then wore that wonderful jewel on her breast
So Edgetho’s son proved himself,
Did as a famous soldier must do
If glory is what he seeks: not killing his comrades
In drunken rages, his heart not savage, 218 0
But guarding God’s gracious gift his strength,
Using it only in war, and then using it
Bravely. And yet as a boy he was scorned;
The Geats considered him worthless. When he sat
In their mead-hall, and their lord was making men
rich, 218$
He held no claim on the king’s good wilL
They were sure he was lazy, noble but slow.
The world spun round, 'he was a warrior more
famous
Than any, and all the insults were wiped out
Then Higlac, protector of his people, brought in 219 0
His father’s—Beowulf’s grandfather’s—great sword,
Worked in gold; none of the Geats
Could boast of a better weapon. He laid it
In Beowulf's lap, then gave him seven
Thousand hides of land, houses 219 $
And ground and all. Geatland was home
For both king and prince; their fathers had left
them
Buildings and fields—but Higlac’s inheritance
Stretched further, it was he who was king, and was
followed.
Afterwards, in the time when Higlac was dead 2200
92 B e o w u lf

And Herdred, his son, who’d ruled the Geats

A fter his father, had followed him into darkness—
Killed in battle with the Swedes, who smashed
His shield, cut through the soldiers surrounding
Their king—then, when Higd’s one son 230}
W as gone, Beowulf ruled in G eatland,
Took the throne he'd refused, once,
And held it long and welL He was old
W ith years and wisdom, fifty winters
A king, when a dragon awoke from its darkness 3210
A nd dream s and brought terror to his people. The
beast
H ad slept in a huge stone tower, w ith a hidden
Path beneath; a m an stumbled on
The entrance, went in, discovered the ancient
Treasure, the pagan jewels and gold 331}
The dragon h ad been guarding, and dazzled and
greedy
Stole a gem-studded cup, and fled.
But now the dragon hid nothing, neither
The theft nor itself; it swept through the darkness,
A nd all G eatland knew its anger. 3330

32
But the thief had not come to steal; he stole,
And roused the dragon, not from desire
But need. He was someone’s slave, had been beaten
By his masters, had run from all men’s sight,
But w ith no place to hide; then he found the hid­
den 333}
Path, and used it. And once inside,
Seeing the sleeping beast, staring as it
 B e o w u lf 93

Yawned and stretched, no t w anting to wake it,

Terror-struck; he turned and ran for his life;
Taking the jew eled cup. aay>
T hat tow er
W as heaped high w ith hidden treasure, stored
there
Y ears before by the last survivor
O f a noble race, ancient riches
Left in the darkness as the end o f a dynasty
Came. D eath had taken them , one
By one, and the w arrior who w atched over all
T hat rem ained m ourned their fate, expecting,
Soon, die sam e fo r him self know ing
The gold and jewels he had guarded so long axfo
C ould n o t bring him pleasure m uch longer. H e
brought
T he precious cups, die arm or and the ancient
Swords, to a stone tow er built
N ear the sea, below a diff, a sealed
Fortress w ith no windows, no doors, waves »243
In front o f it, rocks behind. T hen he spoke:
“Take these treasures, earth, now th at no one
liv in g can enjoy them . They w ere yours, in the
beginning;
A llow them to return. W ar and terro r
H ave swqpt away m y people, shut 2250
T heir eyes to deught and to living, closed
T he door to all gladness. N o one is left
To lift these swords, polish these jew eled
C ups: no one leads, n o one follow s. T hese ham*
m ered
H elm ets, worked w ith gold, will tarnish 225}
A nd crack; the hands th at should clean and polish
them
A re still forever. A nd these m ail shirts, w orn
In battle, once, while swords crashed
A nd blades b it into shields and m en,
W ill rust away like the w arriors who owned them . 32ÓO
N one o f these treasures w ill travel to distan t
94 B e o w u lf

Lands, following their lords. The harp's

Bright song, the hawk crossing through the hall
On its swift wings, the stallion tram ping
L i the courtyard—all gone, creatures o f every aafc
K ind, and their m asters, hurled to the gravel’*
A nd so he spoke, sadly, o f those
Long dead, and lived from day to day,
Joyless, until, a t last, death touched
H is heart and took him too. A nd a stalker axjo
In the night, a flaming dragon, found
The treasure unguarded; he whom m en fear
Came flying through the darkness, w rapped in fire,
Seeking caves and stone-split ruins
But finding gold. T h a i it staved, buried
Itself w ith heathen silver and jewels
It could neither use n or ever abandon.
So m ankind’s enemy, the mighty beast,
Slept in those stone walls for hundreds
O f years; a runaw ay slave roused it, 3280
Stole a jew eled cup and bought
His m aster’s forgiveness, begged for mercy
A nd was pardoned w hen his delighted lord took
the present
H e bore, turned it in his hands and stared
A t the ancient carvings. The cup brought peace assj
To a slave, pleased his m aster, b u t stirred
A dragon’s anger. I t turned, hunting
The th ief’s tracks, and found them , saw
W here its visitor had come and gone. H e'd sur­
vived,
H ad come close enough to touch its scaly xyo
H ead and yet lived, as it lifted its cavernous
Jaws, through the grace o f almighty G od
A nd a pair o f quiet, quick-moving feet.
The dragon followed his steps, anxious
To find the m an who had robbed it o f silver &95
A nd sleep; it circled around and around
The tower, determined to catch him, but could not,
H e had run too fast, the wilderness was empty.
 B e o w u lf 95

The beast w ent back to its treasure, planning

A bloody revenge, and found w hat was m issing, 8309
Saw w hat thieving hands had stolen.
Then it crouched on the stones, counting off
The hours till the Alm ighty's candle w ent out,
A nd evening cam e, and wild w ith anger
It could fly burning across the land, killing 3303
A nd destroying w ith its breath. T hen th e sun w as
gone,
A nd its h eart was glad: glowing w ith rage
It left the tow er, im patient to repay
Its enemies. The people suffered, everyone
Lived in terror, bu t when Beowulf had learned 9310
O f th eir trouble his fate was w orse, and cam e
quickly.

33
V om iting fire and smoke, the dragon
Burned down their homes. They w atched in horror
A s the flames rose up: the angry m onster
M eant to leave nothing alive. A nd the signs 9313
O f its anger flickered and glowed in the darkness,
Visible for miles, tokens o f its hate
A nd its cruelty, spread like a w arning to the G eats
W ho had broken its rest. Then it hurried back
To its tow er, to its hidden treasure, before dawn 8320
Could come. It had w rapped its flames around
The G eats; now it trusted in stone
W alls, and its strength, to protect it. B ut they
w ould not.
T hen they cam e to Beowulf, their king, and an­
nounced
T hat his hall, his throne, the best o f buildings, 9325
96 B e o w u lf

H ad m elted away In the dragon’s burning

Breath. Their words brought misery, Beow ulf's
Sorrow beat a t his heart: he accused
H im self o f breaking .God’s law, o f bringing
The Almighty’s anger down on his people. »330
Reproach pounded in his breast, gloomy
A nd dark, and the world seemed a different place.
But the hall was gone, the dragon’s m olten
B reath had licked across it, burned it
To ashes, near the shore it had guarded. The G eats »335
Deserved revenge; Beowulf, their leader
A nd lord, began to plan it, ordered
A battle-shield shaped o f iron, knowing th at
W ood would be useless, th at no linden shield
Could help him, protect him, in the flaming heat »34o
O f the beast’s breath. T hat noble prince
W ould end his days on earth, soon,
W ould leave this brief life, bu t would take the
dragon
W ith him , tear it from the heaped-up treasure
It had guarded so long. And he’d go to it alone, »345
Scorning to lead soldiers against such
A n enemy: he saw nothing to fear, thought nothing
O f the beast’s claws, or wings, or flaming
Jaws—he had fought, before, against worse
Odds, had survived, been victorious, in harsher »350
Battles, beginning in H erot, H rothgar’s
Unlucky halL He’d killed Grendel
A nd his m other, swept th at murdering tribe
Away. A nd he’d fought in Higlac’s w ar
W ith the Frisians, fought at Ins lord’s side »355
Till a sword reached out and drank H iglac's
Blood, till a blade swung in the rush
O f battle killed the Geats* great king.
Then Beowulf escaped, broke through Frisian
Shields and swam to freedom, saving »3^0
Thirty sets o f arm or from the scavenging
Franks, river people who robbed
The dead as they floated by. Beowulf
 B e o w u lf 97
Offered them only his sword, ended
So m any jackal lives th at the few a36.
W ho were able skulked silently hom e, glad
T o leave him. So Beowulf swam sadly back
To G eatland, alm ost the only survivor
O f a foolish war. Higlac’s widow
Brought him the crown, offered him the kingdom , a37o
N ot trusting H erdred, her son and Higlac’s,
To beat off foreign invaders. B ut Beowulf
Refused to rule when his lord’s own son
W as alive, and the leaderless G eats could choose
A rightful king. H e gave H erdred 337s
A ll m s support, offering an open
H eart where Higlac’s young son could see
W isdom he still lacked himself: w arm th
A nd good will were w hat Beowulf brought his new
king.
B ut Swedish exiles came, seeking ajso
Protection; they were rebels against O nela,
H ealfdane’s son-in-law and the best ring-giver
H is people had ever known. A nd O nela
Cam e too, a m ighty king, m arched
O n G eatland w ith a huge army; H erdred 2383
H ad given his w ord and now he gave
H is life, shielding the Swedish strangers.
O nela w anted nothing m ore:
W hen H erdred had fallen th at famous w arrior
W ent back to Sweden, let Beowulf raid! 3590

34
B ut Beowulf rem em bered how his king had been
killed.
As soon as he could he lent the last
98 B e o w u lf

O f the Swedish rebels soldiers and gold,

H elped him to a b itter battle across .
The wide sea, where victory, and revenge, and the
Swedish 2393
Throne were won, and Onela was slain.
So Edgetho's son survived, no m atter
W hat dangers he m et, w hat battles he fought,
Brave and forever trium phant, till the day
F ate sent him to the dragon and sent him death. 3400
A dozen w arriors walked w ith their angry
King, when he was brought to the beast; Beowulf
Knew, by then, w hat had woken the m onster,
A nd enraged i t The cup had come to him , traveled
From dragon to slave, to m aster, to king, 2403
A nd the slave was their guide, had begun the Geats*
Affliction, and now, afraid o f both beast
A nd men, was forced to lead them to the monster’s
H idden home. H e showed them the huge
Stones, set deep in the ground, w ith the sea 0410
Beating on the rocks dose by. Beowulf
Stared, listening to stories o f the gold
A nd riches heaped inside. H idden,
B ut wakeful, now, die dragon w aited,
R eady to greet him . G old and ham m ered 2413
A rm or have been buried in pleasanter places!
The battle-brave king rested on the shore.
W hile his soldiers wished him well, urged him
On. But Beowulf’s heart was heavy:
H is soul sensed how close fate 2420
H ad come, felt something, not fear b u t knowledge
O f old age. His arm or was strong, b u t his arm
H ung like his h e a rt Body and soul
M ight part, here; his blood m ight be spilled,
His spirit tom from his flesh. Then he spoke. 2423
“My early days were full o f war,
A nd I survived it all; I can remember everything.
I was seven years old when H rethel opened
His hom e and his heart for m e, when my king and
lord
 B e o w u lf 99

Took me from my father and kept me, taught me, 3430

Gave me gold and pleasure, glad th at I sat
A t his knee. A nd he never loved me less
T han any o f his sons—H erbald, the oldest
O f all, or H athcyn, or Higlac, my lord.
H erbald died a horrible death, *435
K illed while hunting: Hathcyn, his brother,
Stretched his horn-tipped bow, sent
A n arrow flying, but missed his m ark
A nd hit H erbald instead, found him
W ith a bloody point and pierced him through. 3440
The crime was great, the guilt was plain,
B ut nothing could be done, no vengeance, no
death
To repay th at death, no punishm ent, nothing.
“So w ith the graybeard whose son sins
A gainst the k in g and is hanged: he stands *445
W atching his child swing on the gallows,
Lam enting, helpless, while his flesh and blood
H angs fo r the raven to pluck. H e can raise
H is voice in sorrow, b u t revenge is im possible.
A nd every m orning he rem em bers how his son *45°
D ied, and despairs; no son to com e
M atters, no future heir, to a father
F orced to live through such m isery. The place
W here his son once dwelled, before death compelled
him
To journey away, is a windy w asteland, 2453
Em pty, cheerless; the childless father
Shudders, seeing it. So riders and ridden
Sleep in the ground; pleasure is gone,
The harp is silent, and hope is forgotten.
100 B e o w u lf

35

“A nd then, crying bis sorrow, he crawls 3460

T o his bed: the world, and his home, hurt him
W ith their emptiness. A nd so it seemed to H rethel,
W hen H erbald was dead, and his heart swelled
W ith grief. The m urderer lived; he felt
N o love for him, now, bu t nothing could help, 2465
W ord nor hand nor sharp-honed blade,
W ar nor hate, battle or blood
O r law. The pain could find no relief,
H e could only live w ith it, or leave grief and life
Together. W hen he'd gone to his grave H athcyn 2470
A nd Higlac, his sons, inherited everything.
“A nd then there was w ar betw een G eats and
Swedes,
B itter battles carried across
The broad sea, when the mighty H rethel slept
A nd O ngentho's sons thought Sweden could safely 247}
A ttack, saw no use to pretending friendship
B ut raided and burned, and near old Rennsburg
Slaughtered G eats w ith their thieving swords.
My people repaid th a n , death fo r death,
B attle for battle, though one o f the brothers 3480
Bought th at revenge w ith his life—H athcyn,
K ing o f the G eats, killed by a Swedish
Sword. But when daw n came the slayer
W as slain, and Higlac’s soldiers avenged
Everything with the edge o f their blades. Efor 3485
Caught the Swedish king, cracked
H is helm et, split his skuu, dropped him,
Pale and bleeding, to the ground, then put him
To death with a swift stroke, shouting
His joy. 3490
“The gifts th at Higlac gave me,
A nd the land, 1 earned with my sword, as fate
Allowed: he never needed Danes
O r G oths or Swedes, soldiers and allies
 44 '
B e o w u lf 101

Bought w ith gold, bribed to his side. 2495

My sword was better, and always his.
In every battle m y place was in front,*
Alone, and so it shall be forever,
As long as this sword lasts, serves me
In the future as it has served m e before. So 4500
I killed Dagref, the Frank, who brought death
To Higlac, and who looted his corpse: H igd’s
Necklace, Welthow*s treasure, never
Came to D agref *s king. The th ief
Fell in battle, but not on my blade. 2505
H e was brave and strong, b u t I sw ept him in m y
arm s,
G round him against me till his bones broke,
T ill his blood burst out. A nd now I shall fight
F or this treasure, fight w ith both hand and sword.**
A nd Beowulf uttered his final boast: 2510
*Tve never know n fear; as a youth I fought
In endless battles. I am old, now,
But I w ill fight again, seek fame still,
If the dragon hiding in his tow er dares
To face m e.” 2515
Then he said farewell to his followers,
Each in his turn, for the last tim e:
“I ’d use no sword, no weapon, if this beast
Could be killed w ithout it, crushed to death
lik e G rendel, gripped in my hands and tom 2520
Lim b from lim b. But his breath will be burning
H ot, poison will pour from his tongue.
I feel no shame, w ith shield and sword
A nd arm or, against this m onster: w hen he comes
to me
I m ean to stand, no t run from his shooting 2525
Flam es, stand till fate decides
W hich o f us wins. M y heart is firm,
M y hands ca lm : I need no hot
W ords. W ait for me close by, m y friends.
We shall see, soon, who will survive 2330
This bloody battle, stand when the fighting
102 B e o w u lf

Is done. No one else could do

W hat I m ean to, here, no m an b u t me
Could hope to defeat this m onster. N o one
Could try. A nd this dragon’s treasure, his gold 2333
A nd everything hidden in th at tower, will be mine
O r w ar w ill sweep m e to a b itter death!”
Then Beowulf rose, still brave, still strong,
A nd w ith his shield a t his side, and a m ail shirt on
his breast,
Strode calmly, confidently, tow ard the tower, under 2340
The rocky cliffs: no coward could have walked
there!
And then he who’d endured dozens of desperate
Battles* “Who’d stood boldly while swords and
shields
Clashed, the best o f kings, saw
Huge stone arches and felt the heat 2545
O f the dragon’s breath, flooding down
Through the hidden entrance, too hot for anyone.
To stand, a streaming current o f fire
A nd smoke th at blocked all passage. A nd the Geats*
Lord and leader, angry, lowered 2330
H is sword and roared out a battle cry,
A call so loud and d e a r th at it reached through
The hoary rock, hung in the dragon’s
Ear. The beast rose, angry,
Knowing a m an had come—and then nothing 2333
B ut w ar could have followed. Its breath came first,
A steam ing dou d pouring from the stone,
Then the earth itself shook. Beowulf
Swung his shield into place, h d d it
In front o f him , facing the entrance. The dragon 2360
Coiled and uncoiled, its heart urging it
Into battle. Beowulf's ancient sword
W as waiting, unsheathed, his sharp and gleaming
Blade. The beast came closer; both o f them
Were ready, each set on slaughter. The Geats' 236 3
G reat prince stood, firm, unmoving, prepared
Behind his high shield, waiting in his sinning
 B e o w u lf 103

Armor. The monster came quickly toward him,

Pouring out fire and smoke, hurrying
To its fate. Flames beat at the iron 3570
Shield, and for a time it held, protected
Beowulf as he'd planned; then it began to melt.
And for the first time in hi§ life that famous prince
Fought with fate against him, with glory
Denied him. He knew it, but he raised his sword *575
And struck at the dragon’s scaly hide.
The ancient blade broke, bit into
The monster’s skin, drew blood, but cracked
And failed him before it went deep enough, helped
him
Less than he needed. The dragon leaped 2580
With pain, thrashed and beat at him, spouting
Murderous flames, spreading them everywhere.
And the Geats’ ring-giver did not boast of glorious
Victories in other wars: his weapon
Had failed him, deserted him, now when he needed it *585
Most, that excellent sword. Edgetho’s
Famous son stared at death,
Unwilling to leave this world, to exchange it
For a dwelling in some distant place—a journey
Into darkness that all men must make, as death ^90
Ends their few brief hours on earth.
Quickly, the dragon came at him, encouraged
As Beowulf fell back; its breath flared,
And he suffered, wrapped around in swirling
Flames—a king, before, but now 2595
A beaten warrior. None of his comrades
Came to him, helped him, his brave and noble
Followers; they ran for their lives, fled
Deep in a wood. And only one of them
Remained, stood there, miserable, remembering, 2600
As a good man must, what kinship should mean.
104 B e o w u lf

36
H is nam e was Wiglaf, lie was W exstan’s son
A nd a good soldier; his fam ily had been Swedish,
Once. W atching Beow ulf he could see
How his king was suffering, burning. Remembering 2605
Everything his lord and cousin had given him,
A rm or an a gold and the great estates
W exstan’s fam ily enjoyed, W iglaf’s
M ind was m ade up; he raised his yellow
Shield and drew his sword—an ancient 2610
W eapon th at had once belonged to Onela’s
Nephew, and th at W exstan had won, killing
T he prince w hen he fled from Sweden, sought
safety
W ith H erdred, and found death. A nd W iglaf’s
father
H ad carried the dead man’s arm or, and his sword, 2615
To Onela, and the king had said nothing, only
G iven him arm or and sword and all,
Everything his rebel nephew had owned
A nd lost when he left this life. A nd W exstan
H ad kept those shining gifts, held them 2620
F or years, waiting for his son to use them ,
W ear them as honorably and well as once
H is father had done; then W exstan died
A nd W iglaf was his heir, inherited treasures
A nd weapons and land. He’d never w orn 262$
T hat arm or, fought w ith th at sword, until Beowulf
Called him to his side, led him into w ar.
But his soul did not m elt, his sword was strong;
The dragon discovered his courage, and his weapon,
W hen the rush o f battle brought them together. 2630
A nd W iglaf, his heart heavy, utttered
The kind o f words his comrades deserved:
“I rem em ber how we sat in the mead-hall,
drinking
A nd boasting o f how brave w e'd be when Beowulf
 B e o w u lf 105

N eeded us, lie who gave us these swords 3633

A nd arm or: all o f us swore to repay him ,
W hen th e tim e cam e, kindness for kindness
—W ith our lives, if he needed them . H e allowed us
to jo in him ,
Chose us from all his great arm y, thinking
O ur boasting words had some w eight, believing 2640
O ur prom ises, trusting our swords. H e took us
F o r soldiers, fo r m en. H e m eant to kill
This m onster himself, our m ighty king,
Fight this battle alone and unaided,
As in th e days w hen his strength an d daring daz­
zled 3643
M en's eyes. B ut those days are over and gone
A nd now our lord m ust lean on younger
Arms. A nd we m ust go to him , w hile angry
Flam es b um a t his flesh, help
O ur glorious king! By alm ighty G od, 3630
I'd rather bum m yself than see
Flam es swirling around m y lord.
A nd who are we to can y hom e
O ur shields before we've slain his enem y
A nd ours, to ru n back to our homes w ith Beowulf 3633
So hard-pressed here? I swear th a t nothing
H e ever did deserved an end
Like this, dying m iserably and alone,
Butchered by this savage beast: we swore
T hat these swords and arm or were each for us afl!" 3660
Then he ra n to his king, crying encouragem ent
A s he dove through the dragon’s deadly fumes:
“Belovéd Beowulf, rem em ber how you boasted,
Once, th at nothing in the w orld would ever
D estroy your fam e: fight to keep it, 3663
Now, be strong and brave, m y noble
K ing, protecting life and fame
Together. M y sword w ill fight a t your side!"
The dragon heard him , the m an-hating m onster,
A nd was angty; shining with surging flames a$7<>
I t cam e for him , anxious to return lus visit.
106 B e o w u lf

Waves o f fire swept at his shield

A nd the edge began to burn. His m ail shirt
Could not help him , but before his hands dropped
The blazing wood W iglaf jum ped 2673
Behind Beowulf’s shield; his own was burned
To ashes. Then the famous old hero, remembering
Days o f glory, lifted w hat was left
O f Nagling, Ids ancient sword, and swung it
W ith all his strength, smashed the gray 2680
Blade into the beasfs head. But then Nagling
Broke to pieces, as iron always
H ad in Beowulf’s hands. His arms
W ere too strong, the hardest blade could not help
him ,
The m ost wonderfully worked. H e carried them to
w ar 2683
But fate had decreed th a t the G eats’ great king
W ould be no b etter for any weapon.
Then the m onster charged again, vom iting
Fire, wild w ith pain, rushed out
Fierce and dreadful, its fear forgotten. 2690
W atching for its chance it drove its tusks
Into Beowulf’s neck; he staggered, the blood
Came flooding forth, fell like rain.

37
And then when Beowulf needed him most
W iglaf showed his courage, his strength 2693
A nd skill, and the boldness he was bom with.
Ignoring
The dragon’s head, he helped his lord
By striking lower down. The sword
 B e o w u lf 107

Sank In; his hand was burned, b u t the sh ining

Blade had done its work, the dragon’s 2700
Belching flames began to flicker
A nd die away. A nd Beowulf drew
H is battle-sharp dagger: the blood-stained old king
Still knew w hat h e was doing. Quickly, he cut
T he beast in half, slit it a p a rt 270;
I t fell, their courage had killed it, two noble
Cousins h ad joined in the dragon's death.
Y et w hat they did all m en m ust do
W hen th e tim e comesl B ut the trium ph was the last
Beowulf w ould ever earn, the end 2710
O f greatness and life together. The w ound
In m s neck began to swell and grow;
H e could feel something stirring, burning
In his veins, a stinging venom, and knew
The beast’s fangs had left i t H e fum bled 3715
A long the wall, found a slab
O f stone, and dropped down; above him he saw
Huge stone arches and heavy posts,
H olding up the ro o f o f th at giant h a lt
Then W igjaf’s gentle hands bathed 2720
T he blood-stained prince, his glorious lord,
W eary o f w ar, and loosened his helm et.
Beowulf spoke, in spite o f the swollen,
Livid wound, knowing he’d unw ound
H is string o f days on earth, seen 2725
A s'm uch as C od would grant him ; all worldly
Pleasure was gone, as life w ould go,
Soon:
“I’d leave m y arm or to m y son,
Now, if G od had given me an heir, 2730
A child bom o f m y body, his life
C reated from m ine. I ’ve w orn this crow n
F o r fifty w inters: no neighboring people
H ave tried to threaten the G eats, sent soldiers
A gainst us or talked o f terror. M y days 2733
Have gone by as fate willed, w aiting
F or its word to be spoken, ruling as well
108 B e o w u lf

As I knew how, swearing no unholy oaths,

Seeking no lying wars. I can leave
This life happy; I can die, here, *74°
Knowing the Lord o f all life has never
W atched m e wash m y sword in blood
Born o f m y own family. Belovdd
W iglaf, go, quickly, find
The dragon’s treasure: we’ve taken its life, *745
But its gold is ours, too. H urry,
Bring m e ancient silver, precious
Jewels, shining arm or and gems,
Before I die. D eath will be softer,
Leaving life and this people I’ve ruled *7jo
So long, if I look a t this last o f all prizes.’*

38
Then W exstan’s son went in, as quickly
As he could, did as the dying Beowulf
Asked, entered the inner darkness
O f the tower, w ent with his m ail shirt and his
sword. *7«
Flushed w ith victory he groped his way,
A brave young w arrior, and suddenly saw
Piles o f gleaming gold, precious
Gems, scattered on the floor, cups
A nd bracelets, rusty old helmets, beautifully *760
M ade but rotting with no hands to riib
A nd polish them . They lay where the dragon left
them ;
It had flown in the darkness, once, before fighting
Its final battle. (So gold can easily
 B e o w u lf 109

Triumph, defeat the strongest of men, 3765

No matter how deep it is hidden!) And he saw,
Hanging high above, a golden
Banna:, woven by the best of weavers
And beautiful. And over everything he saw
A strange light, shining everywhere, 3770
On walls and floor and treasure. Nothing
Moved, no other monsters appeared;
He took what he wanted, all the treasures
That pleased his eye, heavy plates
And golden cups and the glorious banner, 3775
Loaded his arms with all they could hold.
Beowulf's dagger, his iron blade,
Had finished the fire-spitting terror
That once protected tower and treasures
Alike; the gray-bearded lord of the Geats 2780
Had ended those flying, burning raids
Forever.
Then Wiglaf went bacl^ anxious
To return while Beowulf was alive, to bring him
Treasure they'd won together. He ran, 2785
Hoping his wounded king, weak
And dying, had not left the world too soon.
Then ne brought their treasure to Beowulf, and
found
His famous king bloody, gasping
For breath. But Wiglaf sprinkled water 3790
Over his lord, until the words
Deep in his breast broke through and were heard.
Beholding the treasure he spoke, haltingly:
“For this, this gold, these jewels, I thank
Our Father in Heaven, Ruler of the Earth— 3795
For all of this, that His grace has given me,
Allowed me to bring to my people while breath
Still came to my lips. I sold my life
For this treasure, and I sold it well. Take
W hat I leave, Wiglaf, lead m y people, 3800
Help them; my time is gone. Have
The brave Geats build me a tomb,
110 B e o w u lf

W hen th e funeral flames have burned me, and

build it
H ere, a t the water’s edge, high
On this spit o f land, so sailors can see a8oy
This tow er, and rem em ber m y nam e, and call it
Beow ulf's tower, and boats in the darkness
A nd m ist, crossing the sea, will know i t "
Then th at brave king gave the golden
Necklace from around lus throat to W iglaf, tin
Gave him his gold-covered helmet, and his rings,
A nd his m ail shirt, and ordered him to use them
well:
"Y ou’re the last o f all our far-flung family.
F ate has swept our race away,
Taken warriors in their strength and led them tiiy
T o th e death th a t was w aiting. A nd now 1 follow
them .”
The old m an's m outh was silent, spoke
N o more, had said as much as it could;
He would sleep in the fire, soon. His soul
Left his flesh, flew to glory. tin

39
A nd then W iglaf was left, a young w arrior
Sadly watching his belovéd king,
Seeing him stretched on the ground, left guarding
A tom and bloody corpse. But Beowulf’s
Killer was dead, too, the coiled tiay
Dragon, cut in half, cold
And motionless: men, and their swords, had swept it
From the earth, left it lying in front o f
 B e o w u lf 111

Its tow er, won its treasure w hen it fell

Crashing to the ground, cut it apart 2830
W ith their ham m ered blades, driven them deep in
Its belly. I t w ould never fly through the night.
Glowing in the dark sky, glorying
In its riches, burning and raiding: tw o w arriors
H ad show n it their strength, slain it w ith their
sw ords. 283;
N ot m any m en, n o m atter how strong,
N o m atter how daring, how bold, had done
As well, rushing a t its venomous fangs,
O r even quietly entering its tower,
Intending to steal b u t finding the treasure's mo
G uardian awake, w atching and ready
To greet them . Beowulf h ad gotten its gold,
Bought it w ith blood; dragon and king
H ad ended each other's days on- earth.
A nd w hen the battle was over B eow ulf’s fol­
low ers m>
Cam e o u t o f th e w ood, cow ards and traitors,
Knowing the dragon was dead. A fraid,
W hile it spit its fires, to fight in their lord’s
D efense, to throw th eir javelins an d spears.
They cam e like sham efaced jackals, their shields 3830
In th eir hands, to the place w here th e prince lay
dead,
A nd w aited for Wigilaf to speak. H e was sitting
N ear B eow ulf's body, wearily sprinkling
W ater in the dead m an’s face, toying
T o stir him . H e could n o t N o one could have kept 3855
Life in their lord's body, or turned
A side the Lord’s will: w orld
A nd m en and all move as H e orders,
A nd always have, and always w ill.
T hen W iglaf turned and angrily told them 3860
W hat m en w ithout courage m ust hear.
W exstan's brave son stared a t the traitors,
H is heart sorrowful, and said w hat he had to:
“I say w hat anyone who speaks the tru th
112 B e o w u lf

Must say. Your lord gave you gifts, 2863

Swords and the armor you stand in now;
You sat on the mead-hall benches, prince
And followers, and he gave you, with open hands,
Helmets and mail shirts, hunted across
The world for the best of weapons. War 2870
Came and you ran like cowards, dropped
Your swords as soon as the danger was real.
Should Beowulf have boasted of your help, rejoiced
In your loyal strength? With God’s good grace
He helped himself, swung his sword 2873
Alone, won his own revenge.
The help I gave him was nothing, but all
I was able to give; I went to him, knowing
That nothing but Beowulf’s strength could save us,
And my sword was lucky, found some vital 2880
Place and bled the burning flames
Away. Too few of his warriors remembered
To come, when our lord faced death, alone.
And now the giving of swords, of golden
Rings and rich estates, is over, 2883
Ended for you and everyone who shares
Your blood: when the brave Geats hear
How you bolted and ran none of your race
Will have anything left but their lives. And death
Would be better for them all, and for you, than
the kind 2890
Of life you can lead, branded with disgrace!”

40

Then Wiglaf ordered a messenger to ride

Across the cliff, to the Geats who’d waited
 B e o w u lf 113

The morning away, sadly wondering

If their beloved king would return, or be killed, 289}
A troop of soldiers sitting in silence
And hoping for the best. Whipping his horse
The herald came to them; they crowded around,
And he told them everything, present and past:
“Our lord is dead, leader of this people. 2()00

The dragon killed him, but the beast is dead,

Too, cut in half by a dagger;
Beowulf’s enemy sleeps in its blood.
N o sword could pierce its skin, wound
T hat monster. Wiglaf is sitting in mourning, 2905
Close to Beowulf’s body, Wexstan’s
W eary son, silent and sad,
Keeping watch for our king, there
W here Beowulf and the beast th a t killed him lie
dead.
“And this people can expect fighting, once 29IO
The Franks, and the Frisians, have heard that our
king
Lies dead. The news will spread quickly.
Higlac began our bitter quarrel
With the Franks, raiding along their river
Rhine with ships and soldiers, until 2913
They attacked him with a huge army, and Higlac
Was killed, the king and many of our men,
Mailed warriors defeated in war,
Beaten by numbers. He brought no treasure
To the mead-hall, after that battle. And ever 292O
After we knew no friendship with the Franks.
“Nor can we expect peace from the Swedes.
Everyone knows how their old king,
Ongentho, killed Hathcyn, caught him
Near a wood when our young lord went 2923
To war too soon, dared too much.
The wise old Swede, always terrible
In war, allowed the Geats to land
And begin to loot, then broke them with a lightning
Attack, taking back treasure and his kidnaped 2930
114 B e o w u lf

Queen, and taking our king’s life.

And then he followed his beaten enemies,
Drove them in front of Swedish swords
Until darkness dropped, and weary, lordless,
They could hide in die wood. But he waited,
Ongentho 2933
With his mass of soldiers, circled around
The Geats who’d survived, who’d escaped him,
calling
Threats and boasts at that wretched band
The whole night through. In the morning he’d hang
A few, he promised, to amuse the birds, 2940
Then slaughter the rest. But the sun rose
To the sound of Higlac’s horns and trumpets,
Light and that battle cry coming together
And turning sadhearted Geats into soldiers.
Higlac had followed his people, and found them. 2943

4 1

“Then blood was everywhere, two bands of Geats

Falling on the Swedes, men fighting*
On all sides, butchering each other.
Sadly, Ongentho ordered his soldiers
Back, to the high ground where he’d built 2930
A fortress; he’d heard of Higlac, knew
His boldness and strength. Out in the open
He could never resist such a soldier, defend
Hard-won treasure, Swedish wives
And children, against the Geats’ new king. 2933
Brave but wise, he fled, sought safety
Behind earthen walls. Eagerly, the Geats
 B e o w u lf 115

Followed, sweeping across the field,

Smashing through the walls, waving Higlac’s
Banners as they came. Then the gray-haired old
king 2960
Was brought to bay, bright sword-blades
Forcing the lord of the Swedes to take
Judgment at Efor’s hands. Efor’s
Brother, Wulf, raised his weapon
First, swung it angrily at the fierce 2965
Old king, cracked his helmet; blood
Seeped through his hair. But the brave old Swede
Felt no fear: he quickly returned
A better blow than he’d gotten, faced
Toward Wulf and struck him savagely. And Efor’s 2970
Bold brother was staggered, half raised his sword
But only dropped it to the ground. Ongentho’s
Blade had cut through his helmet, his head
Spouted blood, and slowly he fell.
The wound was deep, but death was not due 2975
So soon; fate let him recover, live
On. But Efor, his brave brother,
Seeing Wulf fall, came forward with his broad-
bladed
Sword, hammered by giants, and swung it
So hard that Ongentho’s shield shattered 2980
And he sank to the earth, his life ended.
Then, with the battlefield theirs, the Geats
Rushed to Wulf’s side, raised him up
And bound his wound. Wulf’s brother
Stripped the old Swede, took 2983
His iron mail shirt, his hilted sword
And his helmet, and all his ancient war-gear,
And brought them to Higlac, his new lord.
The king welcomed him, warmly thanked him
For his gifts and promised, there where everyone 2990
Could hear, that as soon as he sat in his mead-hall
Again Efor and Wulf would have treasure
Heaped in their battle-hard hands; he’d repay them
Their bravery with wealth, give them gold
116 B e o w u lf

And lands and silver rings, rich rewards for the

glorious 2& }
Deeds they’d done with their swords. The Geats
agreed. And to prove
Efor’s grace in his eyes, Higlac
Swore he’d give him his only daughter.
“These are the quarrels, the hatreds, the feuds,
That will bring us battles, force us into war 3000
With the Swedes, as soon as they’ve learned how
our lord
Is dead, know that the Geats are leaderless,
Have lost the best of kings, Beowulf—
He who held our enemies away,
Kept land and treasure intact, who saved 3003
Hrothgar and the Danes—he who lived
All his long life bravely. Then let us
Go to him, hurry to our glorious lord,
Behold him lifeless, and quickly carry him
To the flames. The fire must melt more 3010
Than his bones, more than his share of treasure:
Give it all of this golden pile,
This terrible, uncounted heap of cups
And rings, bought with his blood. Burn it
To ashes, to nothingness. No one living 3015
Should enjoy these jewels; no beautiful women
Wear them, gleaming and golden, from their necks,
But walk, instead, sad and alone
In a hundred foreign lands, their laughter
Gone forever, as Beowulf’s has gone, „ 3020
His pleasure and his joy. Spears shall be lifted,
Many cold mornings, lifted and thrown,
And warriors shall waken to no harp’s bright call
But the croak of the dark-black raven, ready
To welcome the dead, anxious to tell 3023
The eagle how he stuffed his craw with corpses,
Filled his belly even faster than the wolves.”
And so the messenger spoke, a brave
Man on an ugly errand, telling
Only the truth. Then the warriors rose, 3030
 B e o w u lf 117

W alked slowly down from the clif£ stared

A t those w onderful sights, stood w eeping as they
saw
Beowulf dead on the sand, then bold
Ring-giver resting in his last bed;
H e’d reached the end o f his days, their mighty jq jj
W ar-king the great lord o f the G eats,
G one to a glorious death. B ut they saw
The dragon first, stretched in front
O f its tow er, a strange, scaly beast
G leam ing a dozen colors dulled and 3040
Scorched in its own h e a t From end
To end fifty fe e t it had flown
In the rilent darkness, a swift traveler
Tasting the air, then gliding dow n
To its den. D eath held it in his hands; 3043
I t w ould guard no caves, no towers, keep
N o treasures like the cups, the precious plates
Spread where it lay, silver and brass
Encrusted and rotting, eaten away
A s though buried in the earth fo r a thousand
w inters. 3030
A nd all this ancient hoard, huge
A nd golden, was w ound around w ith a spell:
N o m an could enter the tower, open
H idden doors, unless the Lord
O f Victories, H e who watches over m en, 3033
A lm ighty G od Himself, was moved
T o let mm enter, and him alone.
118 B e o w u lf

42
H iding th at treasure deep in its tower,
As the dragon had done, broke G od’s law
A nd brought it no good. G uarding its stolen 3060
W ealth it killed W iglaf’s king,
B ut w as punished w ith death. W ho know s w hen
princes
A nd their soldiers, the bravest and strongest o f
m en,
A re destined to die, their tim e ended,
Their homes, their halls em pty and still? 306}
So Beowulf sought out the dragon, dared it
Into battle, but could never know w hat G od
H ad decreed, or th at death w ould come to him , or
why.
So the spell was solemnly laid, by m en
Long dead; it was m eant to last till the day 3070
O f judgm ent. W hoever stole their jewels,
Their gold* would b e a m e d w ith the flames o f hell,
H eaped high w ith sin and guilt, if greed
W as w hat brought him: G od alone could break
Their m ade, open H is grace to m an. 307s
Then W iglaf spoken W exstan’s son:
“H ow often an entire country suffers
O n one m an’s account! T hat tim e has come to us:
W e tried to counsel our belovéd king,
O ur shield and protection, show him danger, 3080
U rge him to leave the dragon in the dark
Tower it had lain in so long, live there
Till the end o f the world. Fate, and his will,
W ere too strong. Everyone knows the treasure
H is life bought: b u t Beowulf was w orth 3085
M ore than this gold, and the gift is a harsh one.
I ’ve seen it all, been in the tow er
W here the jew els and arm or were hidden, allowed
To behold them once w ar and its terror were done.
I gathered them up, gold and silver, 3090
Filled my arms as h ill as I could
 B e o w u lf 119

A nd quickly carried them back to my king.

He lay right here, still alive,
Still sure in m ind and tongue. H e spoke
Sadly, said I should greet you, asked 3°9J
T hat after you’d burned his body you bring
H is ashes here, m ake this the taflest
O f towers and his tom b—as great and lasting
As his fame, when Beowulf him self walked
The earth and no m an living could m atch him. 3100
Come, let us enter the tower, see
The dragon’s marvelous treasure one
L ast tim e: I’ll lead the way, take you
d o s e to th at heap o f curious jewels,
A nd rings, and gold. Let the pyre be ready 3x03
A nd high: as soon as we*ve seen the dragon’s
H oard we will carry our belovéd king,
O ur leader and lord, where he’ll lie forever
In G od’s keeping.”
Then W iglaf com m anded
The w ealthiest G eats, brave w arriors
A nd owners of land, leaders o f his people,
To bring wood for Beow ulf's funeral:
"N ow the fire m ust feed on his body,
Flam es grow heavy and black w ith him 31*}
W ho endured arrow s falling in iron
Showers, feathered shafts, barbed
A nd sharp, shot through linden shields,
Storm s o f eager arrow heads dropping.”
A nd W extan’s wise son took seven
O f the noblest G eats, led them together
Down the tunnel, deep into the dragon’s
Tower; the one in front had a torch,
H eld it high in his hands. The best
O f B eow ulf’s follow ers entered behind 3125
T hat gleaming flame: seeing gold
A nd silver rotting on the ground, w ith no one
To guard it, the G eats w ere n o t troubled w ith
scruples
O r fears, but quickly gathered up
120 B e o w u lf
Treasure and carried it out o f the tower. 3130
A nd they rolled the dragon down to the cliff
A nd dropped it over, let the ocean take it,
The tide sweep it away. Then silver
And gold and precious jewels were put
O n a wagon, with Beowulf’s body, and brought 3133
Down the jutting sand, whore the pyre waited.

43
A huge heap o f wood was ready,
Hung around with helmets, and battle
Shields, and shining mail shirts, all
As Beowulf had asked. The bearers brought 3140
Their belovéd lord, their glorious king,
A nd weeping laid him high on the wood.
Then the warriors began to kindle th at greatest
O f funeral fires; smoke rose
Above the flames, black and thick, 314s
A nd while the wind blew and the fire
R oared they wept, and Beowulf’s body
Crum bled and was gone. The G eats stayed,
M oaning their sorrow, lam enting their lord?
A gnarled old woman, hair wound 3130
Tight and gray on her head, groaned
A song o f misery, o f infinite sadness
A nd days o f mourning, o f fear and sorrow
To come, daughter and terror and captivity.
A nd Heaven swallowed the billowing smoke. 3133
Then the G eats built the tower, as Beowulf
H ad asked, strong and tall, so sailors
Could find it from far and wide; working
For ten long days they made his monument,
 B e o w u lf 121

Sealed his ashes in walls as straight 3x6o

A nd high as wise and willing hands
Could raise them. A nd the riches he and Wigjaf
H ad won from the dragon, rings, necklaces,
Ancient, hammered armor—all
The treasures they’d taken were left there, too, 3^5
Silver and jewels buried in the sandy
Ground, back in the earth, again
A nd forever hidden and useless to men.
A nd then twelve o f die bravest Geats
Rode their horses around the tower, 3x 70
T elling their sorrow, telling stories
O f their dead king and his greatness, his gloiy,
Praising him for heroic deeds, for a life
As noble as his name. So should all m en
Raise up words for their lords, warm 3175
W ith love, when their shield and protector leaves
His body behind, sends his soul
On high. A nd so Beowulf’s followers
Rode, mourning their belovéd leader,
Crying that no better king had ever 318 0
Lived, no prince so mild, no m an
So open to his people, so deserving o f praise.

THE END
 A fterword

W hen I learned that Burton Raffel had been persuaded

to translate a portion o f B e o w u lf for an anthology I at
once expected the best. I knew it w ould be impossible
for him to stop before he had reached line 3182 or be­
fore he had found the best way of turning the great old
poem into a great new one.
That is ju st w hat has happened. N ot long after Homer
was fortunate enough to find both Richmond Lattimore
for his I l i a d and R obert Fitzgerald for his O d y s s e y , the
Old English poet found Raffel for his B e o w u lf. If the old
poets have cause for rejoicing in Elysium, how much,
greater cause have we here on middle-earth!
It used to be necessary to insist to college sophomores
th at H om er was a great poet and not a writer of pseudo-
archaic prose. U ntil now it has been necessary to insist
that B e o w u lf is a great poem—neither a piece of puzzling
prose nor a singsong composed by children skipping
rope. Raffel has changed that. All one has to do now is
to open this B e o w u lf at any point and begin reading
aloud.
Y et it is probably not the subtle or even the strong
123
124 A fte r w o r d

patterns o f sound that first delight the reader. For to­

day’s reader is more apt to use his eyes alone and to look
first for the story. He will find it here, more clearly told
than in any other telling. There is no striving for what
used to be called “poetic effects” at the expense o f di­
rectness and clarity.
This is not to say that Raflel’s B e o w u lf is flat or art­
less. The clarity he has achieved is the distillation of the
best kind o f art, the art that hides a r t
What, for example, could be less artful than this simple
image o f the departing ship?
Then they sailed, set their ship
Out on the waves, under the cliffs.
(210-211)
At first sight only the length of the lines on the page and
perhaps the simple device of the alliterating s’s in the
first line mark this passage as poetry at all.
But the reader who uses his tongue and ears as well
as his eyes has found som ething more here. He hears
these perfectly balanced stress-patterns:
/x //x /
/x x //x x /
—patterns not unlike the four- stress lines the Old Eng­
lish audiences heard a thousand and more years ago. He
notes, too, that the 5-alliteration does not disappear en­
tirely in the second line, for he hears it echoing in “waves,
. . . cliffs.”
He may be surprised to hear something else. The Old
English poets could alliterate different vowel sounds with
each other — o with u , u with a , and so on. This device was
very useful to them, since their prosody demanded that
the two halves of their four-stress line alliterate with each
other. In Raffel’s freer prosody such a device must be an
occasional piece of virtuosity—perhaps designed espe­
cially to delight the connoisseur of Old English poetry
with its echo of the earlier art form. But the alliteration
 A fte r w o r d 125

o f the two differing vowels is nevertheless there in line

211, firmly enforced by the prim ary stresses on "Out*'
and “under.”
Take another such sim ple passage, this tim e from the
end o f a beautiful elegy built into the last p a rt o f the poem.
And so he spoke, sadly, of those
Long dead, and lived from day to day,
Joyless, until, at last, death touched
His heart and took him too.
(2267- 2270)

/h e re is the same noble sim plicity in the Old English o f

lines 2267- 2270a, for Raffel is here alm ost as faithful to
each phrase in th at text as it is possible to be. But the
second and th ird lines o f this passage a t first appear to
violate the four-stress pattern so neatly exemplified in the
ship passage. Lines 2268 and 2269 each contain an extra
stress—prim ary on both MLong” and “dead” in 2268, and
secondary on the second syllable o f “Joyless” in the next
line. Since Raffel has explained elsewhere th at a “spon­
dee,” th a t is, two adjacent im portant stresses ( / \ o r
/ / ) , can take the place o f a single prim ary stress, I shall
only add th a t som ething like this kind o f replacem ent
w ent on in Old English too. The older poet’s line 2268
also happens to contain an extra m ajor stress:

/ X X / X / \ x / X
án æ fter eallum unblíðe hw earf

tmbliSe, w ith its two im portant stresses, is balanced

against and tem porally equal to both the preceding dis­
syllable eallum and the following m onosyllable hwearf.
Thus, though the rules o f stress w ere probably stricter in
Old English poetry and have been m ore elaborately
worked out, they perm itted m any o f the same effects that
Raffel achieves.
If 1 have not stopped the reader’s ears w ith such tech­
126 A fte r w o r d

nical m atters, I ask him to read aloud RaffePs three-and-

a-half lines and listen as his tongue traces out the pattern
o f /’s begun w ith “ sadly” and ended w ith “last.” Let him
listen, too, to the resonant o’s in the first line and the diy
whispers o f “-le ss,. . . last, death” in the third. Now let
him listen to the effect the final half-line makes with its
six sharp m onosyllables and colloquial, alm ost flat,
rhythm . The liquid linking sound o f the l’s is ended, the
w hispers stop. Raffel has found the great secret here, the
secret o f knowing when an effect is com plete.
F or Raffel is a p o e t Every page o f his Beow ulfdeclares
this truth. A nd this brings me, by no startling leap, to the
question o f fidelity to the earlier poem which I touched
on a m oment ago. Because Raffel is a poet he is never
trapped by his own cleverness in to the see-what-a-good-
boy-am-I tone o f the scholar-would-be-translator who
has ju st com pleted some m onstrously clever piece o f
exchange in which an im itation o f the “original” is thrust
upon the reader alm ost w ith the case endings still clinging
to i t
Y et he is, I th in k , m ore faithful to the O ld English
poem than these scholars, even though the scholar m ay
w ant to take him to task now and then for, let us say, the
“mighty swords” o f line three. A t first sight there are no
“mighty swords” in line three o r tw o or one o f the Old
English. But Raffel has pu t them there because he, like
the audiences o f the O la English poem , has heard them
clanging in þrym m and eUen; he has p u t them there not
to pad out the line—he never commits this peculiarly
scholarly sin—bu t to rem ind us th at “glory” and “brave
deeds” could be accomplished in this heroic society only
by such swords. W hen he seems, then, m ost to be going
his own way, w hen the poem he is making moves and
breathes independent o f its generator, then he may be
m ost faithful to the old poem. F or sometimes it is only
by catching the delicate threads linking one word with
another in the new language th at the poet discovers the
deepest and truest meanings of the old poem.
 A fte rw o rd 127

N othing would give me greater pleasure than to con­

tinue thus to play the guide through Raffel’s w onderM
poem . B ut the poem is, after all, there for the reader to
return to. A nd he w ill soon find his own favorite passages
—or find him self beginning to read one o f these to his
wife or friends and w inding up hundreds o f lines beyond
where he’d m eant to stop.
B ut before 1 tu rn to m y proper task—w hich is to tell
the curious reader som ething o f the beginnings o f the Old
English poem and o f the people who m ade it and heard
it—I cannot forbear citing ju st one m ore brilliant passage
from Raffel’s new poem. Besides, this polyphonic passage
both reinforces w hat I have ju st been saying and also
affords m e a splendid bridge to m y pleasant task.

. . . day after day the music rang

Loud in that hall, the harp’s rejoicing
Call and the poet’s d ear songs, sung
O f the ancient beginnings o f us all, recalling
The Almighty making the earth, shaping
These beautiful plains m arked off by oceans,
Then proudly setting die sun and m oon
To glow across the land and light it;
The comers o f the earth were m ade lovely with trees
A nd leaves, made quick w ith life, w ith each
O f the nations who now move on its face. And then
As now warriors sang o f their pleasure. . .
(88-99)

Poetry read silently from a page, and probably even

poetry w ritten silently on a page, was, as these lines m ake
clear, unknown to these people unless to a few scholarly
monks. Poetry was the proper accom panim ent o f feasts
and celebrations. It was not only sung “Loud in th a t
hall,” it was also created aloud in the hall.
It is possible th at the very first song o f Beowulf began
in such fashion.
128 A fte r w o r d

I: The Beginnings.

. . . And sometimes a proud old soldier

Who had heard songs of the ancient heroes
And could sing them all through, story after story,
Would weave a net of words for Beowulf’s
Victory, tying the knot of his verses
Smoothly, swiftly, into place with a poet’s
Quick skill, singing his new song aloud
While he shaped it, and the old songs as w ell. . .
(867- 874)

This is how—and when—the song o f Beowulf began, or

so the poet o f our poem w ould have us believe. The very
morning after the hero had perform ed his first great feat
there was am ong the celebrators a singer who “w ould
weave a net o f words for Beow ulfs victory . . .** The
j oyful Danes, and the victorious G eats listened, and some
of them listened well. So this new net o f words spun from
the old soldier’s lips caught in the memory o f some
younger soldier, who sang it when he in his turn became
old to another young soldier . . . until a t last that net
caught the ear o f a m an who knew about writing.
The unique thousand-year-old m anuscript of the poem,
burnt and stained bu t now proudly displayed in the
British Museum, thus marks n o t the first day but one o f
the latter days in the history o f the tale of Beowulf.
T hat at least is the picture sketched in this passage by
th at last singer, our A nglo-Saxon poet. The old soldier
may be pure fiction, as Beowulf him self may be pure fic­
tion, but like all great fiction this picture contains a truth.
F o r this is a true picture o f the a rt o f singing as the
Anglo-Saxon poets practiced i t It was an art which might
have been practiced on horseback as it is represented
here, for no paper and no books were needed. A m an
stood—or sat—and sang “his new song aloud while he
shaped i t . . . ”
Now this art o f the singer o f tales was known in
 .A fte r w o rd 129

H om er's Greece, in m edieval and even m odem Russia,

and still is known, though it is fast dying, in Yugoslavia.
It was practiced in such widely sundered places as Fin­
lan d and the deserts o f A sia. Each o f the peoples who
knew th e a rt—the H om eric G reeks, the R ussians, the
Yugoslavs, the K ara K irghiz, the Anglo-Saxons, and so
on—practiced their art in their own language, developed
their own stories and elaborations, and knew nothing or
little o f the traditional art o f the other peoples.
Y et every traditional poem th a t has survived from me­
dieval England or ancient Greece or m odem Yugoslavia
or elsewhere bears the unm istakable stam p o f its origins.
F o r every poet in these to tally separate traditions had
to build his poems out o f form ulas and themes.
It is easiest to recognize a form ula in some o f the older
translations o f H om er. In those translations—as in the
G reek they translate—the sea is always “w ine-dark,”
A pollo always “far-darting” and O dysseus “never a t a
loss.” W e soon learn to expect th a t the next tim e the sea
or the god or the hero is m entioned he or it will be some­
w hat cerem oniously decked out in this particular attire.
This ceremoniousness is the child o f both necessity and
a rt. F o r H om er could n o t m ake w ell-m easured verses
easily unless he had a t hand the epithet along w ith the
principal noun. A nd in order to sing—like the old soldier
—“his new song aloud while he shaped i t __ ” he had
to m ake his verses easily.
There are form ulas in Beow ulf—literally thousands of
them —b u t m ost o f them are, as are m ost of H om er’s,
so sim ple an d o rdinary th a t one can listen to the Old
English poem m any tim es w ithout noticing them . F or
they are n o t ju s t artfu lly w oven in to th e fabric o f the
poem : they are th a t fabric, th e ordinary businesslike
w arp as well as the bright and som etim es cerem onious
woof.
B ut no tran slato r o f a trad itio n al poem ought to be
taken to task for failing to translate each form ula in ex­
actly the same way each tim e it appears. To do this with
B eow ulf’s three thousand and m ore repeated form ulas
130 A ft e r w o r d

the translator w ould either have to have a rem arkable

memory or filing system or be a different kind of poet.
His jo b is really quite different from th at o f the younger
singer who heard the old soldier on horseback. For the
song th at younger singer later sang m ight have contained
alm ost every form ula in the poem he had heard yet still
have lacked h alf the action or h alf a dozen o f the scenes.
On the other hand, it m ight have been two or three times
as long as the old soldier's victory song. His ability as
well as the conditions under which he was telling the
story helped to determ ine the length o f each particular
perform ance o f a traditional singer. The singer, though
he has no fixed and final text to be faithful to, must work
w ith the fixed phrases in order to m ake his poem at all.
The m odem poet has the fixed text carefully copied from
the m anuscript before him as he works, and he must be
faithful both to it and to the poem he is creating in the
new language. To ask him to keep, for example, “Bio-
w ulf maðelode, beam Ecg-þéowes” exactly the same at
each o f its nine occurrences in the poem would be to run
th e risk o f dem anding im itation and pseudo-art rather
than re-creation and genuine poetry in the new language.
Y et, amusingly enough, in Raffel’s m odem and neces­
sarily unform ulaic poem there are som e echoes o f the
old singer’s form ulaic technique. N ot all nine occurrences
o f “Bío-wulf maðelode, beam Ecg-þéowes” are handled
in the sam e way in his poem , b u t the flavor o f the for­
m ulaic repetition is in these lines:
Beowulf answered, Edgetho’s great son: (529)
. . . Edgetho’s brave so n . . . (629)
Then Edgetho’s brave son spoke. . . (1473)
Beowulf spoke, Edgetho’s brave son: (1999)

Such echoes—if one can still hear them a hundred and

m ore lines later—are enough to season the new poem
and perhaps to rem ind us o f the old.
N either the old soldier n or our Anglo-Saxon singer,
on the other hand, could have tied “the knot o f his verses
 A ft e r w o r d 131

smoothly, swiftly, into place w ith a poet’s quick sk ill..

unless he had had a t hand such exact segm ents o f his
poetry as the whole verse “Bío-w ulf maðelode” and
such linked pairs as “Bío-w ulf m aðelode, beam Ecg-
þéowes.”
But he needed m ore than a repertory o f such formulas.
In order to be able to “sin g . . . Ms new song aloud while
he shaped it,” the old soldier had to have “heard songs
o f the ancient heroes,” and had to have first sung these
“all through, story after story . . . ” This was his training
in the art o f traditional song-m aking: first he listened to
(“had heard”) the old songs, then he sang them —per­
haps a t first to him self and only later to an audience—
and finally he m ight begin to weave new songs.
H e would, o f course, weave them on the p attern o f the
old. He would borrow form ulas from the old: if he had
heard th at “SÍ3e-mund maðelode” then he could easily—
and quickly—replace “Si3e-m und” in the form ula w ith
“Bio-wulf.” He would also borrow longer passages from
the old songs. I f this sam e Siegm und took ship and
“sailed off w ith a shining cargo,” so too could Beowulf
sail across the sea to D enm ark. N ow our Anglo-Saxon
poet was certainly fam iliar w ith such a m otif, since he
re-creates it a t some length in tw o splendid places in his
poem :

The wind hurried them over the waves,

The ship foamed through the sea like a bird
Until, in the time they had known it would take,
Standing in the round-curled prow they could see
Sparkling hills, high and green,
Jutting up over the shore, and rejoicing
In those rock-steep cliffs they quietly ended
Their voyage. Jumping to the ground, the Geats
Pushed their boat to the sand and tied it
In place, mail shirts and arm or rattling
As they swiftly moored their sh ip .. . .
(217-227)
132 A ft e r w o r d

T h ai the ship left shore, left Denmark,

Traveled through deep water. Deck timbers creaked,
And the wind billowing through the sail stretched
From the m ast, tied tight with ropes, did not hold them
Back, did not keep the ring-prowed ship
From foaming swiftly through the waves, the sea
Currents, across the wide ocean until
They could see fam iliar headlands, cliffs
That sprang out o f Geatish soil. Driven
By the wind the ship rammed high on the shore.
(1904-1913)
There are few identical phrases in the two passages, but
the im ages and the sequence in which they appear are
the same: the wind, the waves foam ing at the ship’s
bow, the joyful sighting o f land, the final push to shore.
All these are here partly because the poet rejoiced in them
as we do and partly because they are the proper accouter­
m ents o f the traditional them e o f traveling by ship.
For these longer m otifs or vignettes—voyages, feasts
in the hall, exchanges o f courtesy, to name just a few re­
peated w ithin Beowulf—were as much the stock in trade
o f the singer as th e form ulas. Indeed, the singer prob­
ably first learned th at a story was made out o f such larger
elem ents and then gradually taught him self th at these
elements were in turn m ade out o f the formulas.
The singer’s a rt, as I have suggested earlier, was no
m ere m atter o f m em orizing w hole poems and then re­
peating them . A t first the beginner probably tried to do
ju st that and foundered, finally, on a m isalliterated line,
or got the alliteration right b u t got the wrong idea or
character into his song. Through practice and through
further careful listening he began to teach him self how
to use—and m aster—a diction that made it possible for
him to “sin g . . . his new song”—or his old—“aloud while
he shaped i t . . . ”
Thus, if the song o f Beow ulf did not begin w ith the
tale o f the old soldier on horseback, it nevertheless be­
gan at some point as a traditional tale. The construction
 A ft e r w o r d 133

o f th e O ld English poem assures us th a t this is so. N o

m atter w hether o ur A nglo-Saxon poet learned to w rite
after he had learned th e oral art, or, on the other hand,
dictated his poem to a scribe a t the insistence o f some
antiquarian-m inded m onk o r noblem an: he had first been
trained as a traditional singer. H e tells us som ething o f
this traditional a rt in his im age o f the old soldier on
horseback.

II: “ . . .th e harp's rejoicing call. . . ”

T he first songs o f Beow ulf w ere probably sung in the

halls o f kings and noblem en a t great feasts. In our poem
B eow ulf him self tells his ow n G eatish K ing H iglac of
such feasts in K ing H rothgar’s hall:

. . . He ordered a feast;
There were songs, and the telling of tales. One ancient
Dane told of long-dead times,
And sometimes Hrothgar himself, with the harp
In his lap, stroked its silvery strings
And told wonderful stories, a brave king
Reciting unhappy truths about good
And evil—and sometimes he wove his stories
On the mournful thread of old age, remembering
Buried strength and the battles it had won.
He would weep, the old king, wise with many
Winters, remembering what he’d done, once,
What he’d seen, what he knew. And so we sat
The day away, feasting.. . .
(2104- 2117a)
H rothgar is pictured here singing w ith harp in hand, a
detail necessarily om itted from the picture o f the old sol­
dier on horseback. B ut the harp—so both archaeological
an d m etrical investigations seem to say—was not usu­
ally om itted from proper Anglo-Saxon singing.
It is n o t likely th a t the function o f the harp which
134 A fte r w o r d

H rothgar is represented as holding was to accom pany

the perform ance o f poetry w ith a melody or any under­
current o f continuous sound. M ore likely, the harp was
struck only when the voice o f the singer was silent, per­
haps while he drew a quick breath. But then it served a
m ost im portant purpose in m aintaining the steady
rhythm o f this chanted song, for these~breath pauses
seem to be carefully reckoned in the singer’s m etrical
accounting.
The Anglo-Saxon singer, like his Scandinavian and
continental Germanic cousins, did not, however, count
syllables. H e usually dem anded a minimum o f four syl­
lables to a half-line (or verse), b u t he could accommo­
date as m any as eight or nine syllables in any verse. F or
his rhythm was m ore like the rhythm o f music than the
accentual metrics which have apparently governed m ost
English poetry from Chaucer’s tim e till ours. His rhythm
m oved, m uch as Raffel’s does, from prim ary stress to
prim ary stress at about the sam e rate o f speed no m at­
ter how m any—or how few—syllables lay between.
Now in quite a num ber o f his verses the first prim ary
stress seems to be lacking; or, to p u t it in other words,
there is no w ord im portant enough to bear th a t stress
until we have gone several syllables into the verse. It was
probably before one, two, or three such insignificant syl­
lables th at H rothgar and later singers o f tales in the G er­
m anic w orld struck the harp. There m ay have been cer­
tain other points too a t which the harp was used to keep
the rhythm .
The singer em ployed other devices to m ark his poetry.
Raffel aptly represents both the old soldier and the old
king as “weav[ing\ a net o f w ords . . The figure is a
good one, for the alliteration linking the two halves o f
the Old English line is like a bright pattern cutting across
the steady movement o f sound. The patterns formed by
the alliteration were both various ana strictly controlled.
But it is easier to show all these patterns—alliteration,
stress and harp-stroke—at work in a particular passage
than to try to describe them further. Let us take for the
 A ft e r w o r d 135

sake o f illustration lines 2104- 2117a, the passage de­

scribing H rothgar’s singing w ith his harp. 1 shall m ark
the significant alliteration—not every alliteration, by the
way, is significant—w ith italicized initials. I shall m ark
stress w ith the usual acute ( / ) fo r prim ary, grave ( \ )
for secondary and x fo r m inim um . H arp-strokes are in­
dicated by either / or x —depending on their im portance
—over an em pty space in the passage.

. (. and w l to symblé ^ e íé te n íiæfdon.

/ þ á r wæs jie d d ánd glíe;; gamolá Saeldm g,
yeía-^ícgende ^eorran reáhte;
^hwílúm /rilde-diéor ^earpán Wynne,
gamen-wudu grcfette, 'hwfiúm ^iédd áwræc
söþ and iárlfó, / hwilum jeídlic spell
reahté æfter nhte r^m-heort cyning.
/L
Hwðúm eft ongann lelde 3ebunden
/ . X / V* / X X / 1
gamol gúþ-wiga jeoguðe cwíðan,
^ldé-strengé; Areðer * m né w^oll
'^þanné h l wmtrúm firðd wom 3emunde.
^ Sw i w l þábr-nme ondlangne dáej*

/riodé rtámón / óþ-þæt m ht becóm

<5ðér to léldúm.
W hile the Anglo-Saxon singer tells o f H rothgar singing
“with the harp in his lap,” “strokflng] its silvery strings”
he him self strikes his harp fourteen tim es.
136 A fte r w o r d

III: Sutton Hoo

These harps really existed. A t the very m om ent that
Professor John Pope was dem onstrating how the harp
was needed at least a t som e o f those vacant spaces
m arked above with a prim ary stress ( / ) , an Anglo-Saxon
harp was being dug out o f the earth and carefully recon­
structed by archaeologists.
This harp was found buried w ith the other treasures
of a great king or noble w arrior in the ship-grave at Sut­
ton H oo in Suffolk, England. The m ound that covered
the great ship and its w onderful freight was excavated
as recently as the summer o f 1939 and the harp and the
other treasures placed on exhibition in the British M u­
seum only w ithin the last fifteen years.
These “ancient riches” had been “left in the darkness”
o f the grave for thirteen hundred years. N o one knows
exactly who the w arrior or king was for whom these
riches were buried. T here was no trace o f his body or
his ashes beside the great store o f his wealth. But his
sword lay there, and his stag-tipped standard and a blunt
and prim itively carved object th at may have been his
royal scepter. His purse decorated w ith delicate and
beautiful cloisonné w ork and th e coins th at were in it,
and his intricately wrought great gold buckle lay there.
There lay his silver serving vessels brought from afar—
a fitting treasure fo r a dragon to hoard, or for a royal
funeral:
There in the harbor was a ring-prowed fighting
Ship, its timbers icy, waiting,.
And there they brought the belovéd body
•Of their ring-giving lord, and laid him near
The mast. Next to that noble corpse
They heaped up treasures, jeweled helmets,
Hooked swords and coats o f mail, armor
Carried from the ends of the earth: no ship
Had ever sailed so brightly fitted,
No king sent forth more deeply mourned.
(32- 41)
 A ft e r w o r d 137

The w ood o f the S utton H oo harp, like the w ood o f

the ship w hich held it, had ro tted alm ost away. But
enough of its shape rem ained to make it possible for the
firm o f Dolm etsch in England to build a new harp from
its pattern.

IV: The Geats and the Swedes

The helm et and th e shield o f th e S utton H oo hoard

in England bear a close resem blance to helm ets and
shields dug from the earth o f Sw eden and probably
buried there—a thousand miles across the N orth Sea and
the Scandinavian Peninsula—a t about the same time that
the Sutton H oo objects were interred. This resemblance
points to a closer connection th an we had im agined be­
fore betw een these two lands in the seventh century.
Now you will recall th a t Beowulf, die O ld English song
o f a hero who lived in Sweden, by its very existence sug­
gests some connection. The last th ird o f the poem is, after
all, not only a lam ent for the death o f the hero but also a
prop h etic elegy fo r th e end o f th a t hero’s people as a
separate nation. The English singer seems to have known
th a t the G eats, whose nam e is preserved in the nam e o f
two great provinces o f southern Sweden, V SstergM and
and O stergM and, were defeated, probably during the
latter p art o f the sixth century, by th eir traditional ene­
m ies, the Swedes from the district around Lake M alar.
The beginnings o f th a t defeat are told o f in these lines:

“N or can we expect peace from the Swedes.

Everyone knows how their old king,
Ongentho, killed Hathcyn, caught him
N ear a wood when our young lord went
To war too soon, dared too much.
The wise old Swede, always terrible
In war, allowed the Geats to land
And begin to loot, then broke them with a lightning.
Attack, taking back treasure and his kidnaped
Queen, and taking our king’s life.
138 A ft e r w o r d

. . . “But the sun rose

To the sound of Higlac’s horns and trumpets,
lig h t and that battle cry coming together
And turning sadhearted Geats into soldiers.
Higlac had followed his people, and found them.
“Then blood was everywhere, two bands of Geats
Falling on the Swedes, men fighting
On all sides, butchering each other.

“These are the quarrels, the hatreds, the feuds,

That will bring us battles, force us into war
W ith the Swedes, as soon as they've learned how our lord
Is dead, know that the Geats are leaderless,
Have lost the best o f kings, Beowulf—
He who held our enemies away,
Kept land and treasure intact, who saved
Hrothgar and the Danes—he who lived
All his long life bravely.” . . .
(2922-31,2941-48,2999-3007)

Beowulf m ay never have lived, bu t his people certainly

did, as a pow erful and independent tribe—at least dur­
ing the reign o f K ing H iglac and before—in southern
Sweden. A nd the ashes o f th at Swedish king, Ongentho,
whom his people are pictured here as fighting, were
probably placed by the bereaved Swedes under the east­
ern mound o f the three great royal grave mounds at Old
U ppand in the heart o f the ancient kingdom o f the
Swedes. These m ounds still rise above the plain o f
U ppsala in east central Sweden to bear witness to the
great deeds o f the past. F urther to the north and west,
near the ancient tow n o f V endel, there is another royal
graveyard and another great m ound w hich a very old
trad itio n tells is th e burial m ound o f O ngentho’s son,
O ttarr, father o f the Swedish exiles m entioned in line
2380 of our poem.
There is more than tradition to connect these mounds
 A fte rw o rd 139

w ith the years covered by Beowulf. F o r a t least one o f

the events narrated in the poem is known to have taken
place in the sixth century. A rchaeologists date the U pp­
sala and the Vendel m ounds w ithin th a t century.
T hat fragm ent o f sixth-century history woven into the
poem is K ing H iglac’s disastrous raid into the territory
o f the Franks and his death near the m outh o f the Rhine.
The poem tells this m isadventure in connection with the
great gold necklace Beow ulf receives from King H roth-
gar after defeating G rendel:
Higlac had it next, Swerting's
Grandson; defending the golden hoard
His battle-hard hands had won for him, the Geats’
Proud king lost it, was carried away
By fate when too much pride m ade him feud
W ith the F risians.. . .
(1202-1207a)

“ H iglac’s w ar w ith the Frisians” is m entioned again at

lines 2354 f., alluded to at 2501 f., and becom es a further
reason to lam ent the fall o f Beowulf at 2910:
“And this people can expect fighting, once
The Franks, and the Frisians, have heard that our king
Lies dead. The news will spread quickly.
Higlac began our bitter quarrel
W ith the Franks, raiding along their river
Rhine with ships and soldiers, until
They attacked him w ith a huge army, and Higlac
Was killed, the king and m any o f our men,
M ailed warriors defeated in war,
Beaten by numbers. He brought no treasure
To the mead-hall, after th at battle. And ever
After we knew no friendship w ith the Franks.”
(2910-2921)

N ow Higlac’s “w ar” w ith the F ranks and Frisians is

140 A fte r w o r d

recounted by the Frankish chronicler Gregory of Tours,

who was born less than a generation after this event.
Gregory’s reference is confirmed and slightly expanded
by two other later Frankish texts. The “war” itself prob­
ably took place in the third decade o f the sixth century.
A t any rate, the defeat and death of King Higlac is thus
a m atter o f history—and of history datable to w ithin a
few years.
F or these reasons certain scholars are willing to read
parts o f this sometimes fabulous poem as a record o f the
founding o f the Swedish nation. W hen Beow ulf’s peo­
ple were defeated after his death by the Swedes to the
n o rth o f them , they then lent their num bers and their
territories to swell the victorious tribe into a powerful
kingdom.
Now if the theories of these scholars are true, they
would seem to speak for the ability of the Germanic
singer’s art to carry some truth across tribal boundaries
and seas and possibly centuries. F or the old song of Beo­
wulf is in Old English, not Swedish, and was preserved
in England. A nd though we shall never know just when
the poem in the m anuscript was com posed, we can be
sure th a t it m ust have been some tim e after the Chris­
tianizing o f the A nglian and Saxon kingdom s in Eng­
land in the middle o f the seventh century.

V: The Christian Singer

For Beowulfis the work of a C hristian poet. In the nine­
teenth century, when every country in Europe was search­
ing for or even creating its glorious pagan past, it used to
be fashionable to deplore the Christian elements in the
poem and to blame them on a “monkish interpolator.”
N oble and rugged paganism unweakened by Christian
“sentim ent” had to be discovered in the old docum ents,
even at the cost of violence to the poetry.
These older students of the poem had some small justi­
fication for their high-handed proceedings. They knew
 A ft e r w o r d 141

th at neither the real sixth-century G eats o f King Higlac

n or their possibly fictitious hero Beow ulf could have
been C hristians. C hristianity cam e to Sweden to stay
four centuries later. If, then, the poem preserves—as it
probably does—some tru th about the defeat o f the G eats
by the Swedes, then the “C hristian coloring/* as they
called it, m ust have been added later than the earli­
est tellings o f B eow ulf s feats.
O f course it was. B ut it was n o t added by some sneak­
ing m onk to th e h o nest tale to ld or w ritten by a fine old
seventh- o r eighth-century A nglo-Saxon pagan.
I t m ight have happened in this fashion. The tale o f
Beowulf was carried in the m ind o f a singer across the sea
to Anglo-Saxon E ngland som etim e after some o f the
events it deals w ith took place. The singer m ay have been
an Anglo-Saxon seafarer, or he m ay have been a D ane or
G e a t Professor Sune Lindqvist’s suggestion th at the m an
fo r whom the Sutton H oo treasure was buried was the
descendant o f the royal house o f U ppsala in Sweden
makes it possible to speculate th a t the singer was in some
way associated w ith the great m an memorialized in the
great ship-grave. Language w ould have been less o f a
barrier then betw een these different G erm anic peoples
th an it has been in historical tim es. A nd these people all
m ade the same kind o f traditional poetry, as the runic
carvings—particularly those on the great R ök stone in
Ö stergötland in Sweden—and the m ore recently recorded
Eddie poetry o f the N orsem en bear witness. Now the tale
o f the noble and m arvelous G eatish hero and his people
fascinated some Old English-speaking singer who then
re-created it once and perhaps other times in his lan-
guage.
A t som e p oint after the arrival in England o f the
Christianizing m ission o f S t A ugustine in 597 a tradi­
tional singer who was also a C hristian told again the story
o f the noble hero. T o this C hristian singer the notion that
this m agnanim ous w arrior was n o t a C hristian was un­
thinkable. Beow ulf s conduct showed th at he had been the
willing servant o f the true G od.
142 A ft e r w o r d

O r it might have happened in this fashion. The Anglo-

Saxon singer heard a crude song o f monster-wrestling and
tribal w arfare, and decided to m ake a better m an out
o f the hero o f these savage doings. G od, the singer had
learned, was the fountain o f all virtue, and the noblest
adventure o f all was the im itation o f C h rist His noble
hero would in his fashion have to im itate Christ.
T hat is, after all, w hat Beowulf does in the poem.
Hearing that the D anes are a t the mercy o f that devilish
son o f Cain, Grendel, one o f “A brood forever opposing
the Lord’s W ill,” the hero leaves his home in southwest
Sweden and sails to the rescue. He wrestles with and
defeats Grendel in the hall th at becomes for that moment
symbolic o f the whole world.
He who had come to them from across the sea,
Bold and strong-minded, had driven affliction
Off, purged Herot clean.. . .
(825- 827)
But evil still lurks abroad, and Beowulf must descend
into the terrible lake which H rothgar so vividly describes.
The monsters, he says,
“. . . live in secret places, windy
Cliffs, wolf-dens where water pours
From the rocks, then runs underground, where mist
Steams like black clouds, and the groves of trees
Growing out over their lake are all covered
With frozen spray, and wind down snakelike
Roots that reach as far as the water
And help keep it dark. A t night that lake
Bums like a torch. No one knows its bottom,
No wisdom reaches such depths. A deer,
Hunted through the woods by packs of hounds,
A stag with great horns, though driven through the forest
From faraway places, prefers to die
On those shores, refuses to save its life
In that water. It isn’t far, nor is it
 A ft e r w o r d 143

A pleasant spot! W hen the wind stirs

And storms, waves splash toward the sky,
As dark as the air, as black as the rain
That the heavens weep.”. . .
(1358-1376)

“ ‘O ut only help, again, lies w ith you,* ** H rothgar con­

cludes.
The Anglo-Saxon audiences w ould have recognized
this evil lake as a type o f helL T he serm ons and spiritual
readings they heard associated hell w ith such gloomy
groves o f trees hiding wickedness from the sun’s purifying
light and breeding ice and m onsters. W hen Beowulf
descends in to this hell and overcom es the m onster,
The brilliant light shone, suddenly,
As though burning in that hall, and bright as Heaven’s
Own candle, lit in the sky.. . .
(1570-1572)

The hero who has brought the happy m orning light to

Hrothgar*s hall ( 837) is him self here strangely and sud­
denly surrounded w ith a light like the sun. The great
sw ord w ith which he kills the m onster, itself the work o f
m onsters,
Melted, blood-soaked, dripping down
Like water, disappearing like ice when the world’s
Eternal Lord loosens invisible
Fetters and unwinds icicles and frost
As only He can, He who rules
Time and seasons, He who is truly
G o d .. . .
(1606-1612)

W hen K ing H rothgar receives the h ilt o f this sword from

B eow ulf s hand he reads on th a t h ilt a kind o f commen­
tary on Beowulf’s adventure:
144 Af t e r w o r d
. . . The old king
Bent close to the handle of the ancient relic,
And saw written there the story o f ancient wars
Between good and evil, the opening of the waters,
The Flood sweeping giants away, how they suffered
And died, that race who hated the Ruler
O f us ail and received judgm ent from His hands,
Surging waves that found them wherever
They fled.. . .
( 1686- 1694)
A t the beginning o f the poem K ing Shild is given a
pagan ship-burial by his m ourning subjects who “watched
[the ship]
Slowly sliding to where neither rulers
N or heroes nor anyone can say whose hands
Opened to take that motionless cargo.
(50- 52)
A t the end o f the poem Beowulf is crem ated in a fashion
rem iniscent of pagan ways. Yet perhaps the cremation
exists partly to assure us that, in contrast to Shild's un­
certain arrival,
. . . Heaven swallowed the billowing smoke
(3155)

from the pyre o f the m an who died to save his people

from a fiery dragon.

V I: The A rtist
This is indeed a subtly made poem. The m an who
made it, traditional singer though he was, was no naive
folk artist, no unlearned peasant. He may not have been
taught to read, but he had taught his mind to remember
 A fte rw o rd 145

what he had heard. He had taught his m ind to keep

track o f w hat was significant in his own tale and to bring
out this significance by the sim ple b u t artful devices o f
repetition and contrast.
H e had also taught him self how to build a character
through action and dialogue. One o f his greatest trium phs
is his presentation o f die hero him self. Beowulf enters
abruptly at line 194. H e is, apparently, only a youth in
search o f adventure. A t line 247 we see him for the first
tim e through the eyes p f th at D anish coast guard who is
so delightfully am azed at the effrontery o f Beow ulfs in­
vasion and yet forced to testify to the hero’s extraordi­
nary appearance:

. . . “N or have I ever seen.

Out o f all the men on earth, one greater
Than has come with you; no commoner carries
Such weapons, unless his appearance, and his beauty,
Are both lies.” . . .
(247- 251)
B eow ulf’s equally blunt answer suggests th at he likes the
bluntness and the bravery o f this D ane who dares to
flourish his spear in the face o f a m an he adm its is the
greatest he has ever seen.
Through his long speech to H rothgar in which he
presents his credentials and his qualifications for the job,
as it were, Beowulf rem ains the exuberant youth. It is
only from H rothgar th a t we begin to learn of deeper mo­
tives for his com ing to D enm ark

“Beowulf, you’ve come to us in friendship, and because

O f the reception your father found at our court.
Edgetho had begun a bitter feud,
Killing Hathlaf, a Wulfing warrior:
Your father’s countrymen were afraid of war,
I f he returned to his home, and they turned him away.
Then he traveled across the curving waves
To the land of the Danes. I was new to the throne,
146 A fterw o rd
Then, a young m an ruling this wide
Kingdom and its golden city: Hergar,
My older brother, a far better m an
Than I, had died and dying m ade me,
Second among Healfdane’s sons, first
In this nation. I bought the end ofEdgetho’s
Quarrel, sent ancient treasures through the oceanls
Furrows to the Wulfings; your father swore
He’d keep that peace.” . . .
(457- 473)
Through first the dram atic presentation o f the hero him ­
self and then H rothgar’s rem iniscence—a kind o f flash­
back—we get both th e bluff hero o f legend and also
a suggestion o f a m ore credibly m otivated hum an being.
(We get too in lines 464-470 o f H rothgar’s speech the fine
dram atic im age o f an old m an sighing over his memories
o f the glorious p a s t)
B ut it is no t u n til long after this, after the tale o f the
battle w ith G rendel—m ade exciting by the shifting point
from w hich we view it—and th e heroic celebrations
which follow, th a t Beowulf suddenly stands before us as
both hero and m an. The m om ent is perfect for this
epiphany; h ad it com e any earlier, it w ould have m ade
w hat follow ed anticlim ax. H rothgar has ju st to ld Beo­
w ulf o f the renew al o f sorrow in H erat and o f the terrible
habitation o f the m onsters. Beowulf speaks thirteen lines:
"Let your sorrow end! I t is better to r us all
To avenge our friends, not m ourn them forever.
Each o f us will come to the end o f this life
On earth; he who can earn it should fight
For the glory o f his name; fame after death
Is the noblest o f goals. Arise, guardian
O f this kingdom, let us go, as quickly as we can,
And have a look at tills lady monster.
I promise you this: she’ll find no shelter,
No hole in the ground, no towering tree,
No deep bottom o f a lake, where her sins can hide.
 A ft e r w o r d 147
Be patient for one more day of misery;
I ask for no longer.**
(1384- 1396)

In the final third of the poem Beowulf has changed.

One has only to compare the passage in which the young
hero learns of Hrothgar*s sorrows with that in which the
old king learns of his own to measure the distance we
have traveled:
In his far-off home Beowulf, Higlac’s
Follower and the strongest of the Geats—greater
And stronger than anyone anywhere in the world—
Heard how Grendel filled nights with horror
And quickly commanded a boat fitted out,
Proclaiming that he’d go to that famous king,
Would sail across the sea to Hrothgar,
Now when help was needed.
(194- 201)

It is as simple as that Hrothgar needs help, so, without a

second’s hesitation, Beowulf orders a ship made ready.
But now listen to this:
Then they came to Beowulf, their king, and announced
That his hall, his throne, the best of buildings,
Had melted away in the dragon’s burning
Breath. Their words brought misery, Beowulfs
Sorrow beat at his heart: he accused
Himself of breaking God’s law, of bringing
The Almighty’s anger down on his people.
Reproach pounded in his breast, gloomy
And dark, and the world seemed a different place.
(2324- 2332)

Beowulf has grown old and full of responsibilities and

memories. Now he is like the old Hrothgar he had once
stood before in the pride of his youth. But life is no
148 A ft e r w o r d

longer easy, nor is the defeat of evil still a simple matter

of strength.
The evil itself seems to have changed with the aging
of the hero. The fire-dragon is less villainous than
Grendd, more the outraged victim of a robbery. He is
always treated with a certain degree of sympathy and is
subtly honored in this finest and simplest epitaph for
the dead hero:
“Our lord is dead, leader of this people.
The dragon killed him, but the beast is dead,
Too, cut in half by a dagger;
Beowulf's enemy deeps in its blood.
No sward could pierce its skin, wound
That monster. Wiglafis sitting in mourning,
Close to Beowulf’s body, Wexstan’s
Weary son, dlent and sad,
Keeping watch for our king, there
Where Beowulf and the beast that killed him lie dead.'*
(2900-2909)

The whole last third of this great poem is indeed

a complex and beautiful elegy built of many such smaller
elegies; it is a melancholy remembrance of great things
past.
It is a lament for the passing o f the heroic age, that
fresh young time so perfectly re-created in the first part
of the poem. Now at last, iq Burton Raffel’s dear song,
both the freshness and the melancholy of this great
poem can speak directly to us in our time.
Roslags-Nasby R obert P. C reed
Sweden
January 15, 196i
 G lossary o f N am es

Persons, peoples, and places, are here alphabetically ar­

ranged according to the form used in this translation. For
those fam iliar w ith the original, the O ld English spelling
is also given, in parentheses and italics.
N ot all the nam es m entioned by the poet are here
listed. F or a variety o f esthetic considerations this trans­
lation contains a few alternative identifications; there
are a few deletions; and for the m ost p art Danes are
D anes and Swedes are Swedes, though (for esthetic
reasons valid in his language) the poet m ay describe
them as Spear-D anes, R m g-D anes, East-D anes, N orth-
Danes, or W est-Danes. N o m ajor omissions occur, how­
ever, even under the considerable pressure exerted by
such as Ongenþeow, Hygelac, and Wealhþeow.

BEO (Beowulf): a D anish king, Shild’s son, H ealfdane’s

father. A ccording to K laeber, “this form o f the nam e is
an error for Béow ” To m inim ize confusion, I have
quietly corrected the poet.
149
150 G lossary of N am es
BEOW ULF (Beowulf, Biowulf): Possibly mythical son
of Edgetho, Higlac’s nephew and follower, and later
king of the Geats. Following the chronology implicit in
the poem, Beowulf was bom in a .d . 495, went to Den­
m ark and to H rothgar’s help in 515, accompanied Higlac
on his expedition against the Franks and Frisians in
521, became king of the.G eats in 533, and died at some
indefinite later date. The “fifty years” of his reign are, as
Klaeber notes, only “a sort of poetic formula.”
BONSTAN (Beanstan, Banstan, Beahstan ): father o f
Brecca.
BRECCA (Breed): chief of a tribe known as the Brand­
ings; a contem porary and young companion of Beowulf.
His father is Bonstan.
BRONDINGS (Brondingas ): a (Scandinavian?) tribe
about whom nothing, including their location, seems to
be known.
BROSING (Brosinga ): possibly a reference to Breisach,
on the Rhine near Freiburg: possibly a reference to the
Brisings, who made a marvelous necklace for the god­
dess Freyja (see the N orse Elder Edda).
D AGREF ( Dœghrefn ): a Frank warrior, Higlac’s killer,
who is killed by Beowulf.
ECLAF (E c g la f ): Unferth’s father.
EDGETHO ( Ecgfieow ): Beowulf’s father, a notable war­
rior m arried to HrethePs one daughter (Beowulf’s
m other is never named).
EFOR (Eofor): a G eat warrior, who kills Ongentho, the
Swedish king, and is given Higlac’s daughter as a reward.
EMER (Eomer): son o f Offa.
 G lo ssa ry o f N a m e s 151

ER M LA F ( Yrm enlaf): a D anish noblem an, younger

brother o f Esher.
ERM RIC (Eormenric): a king o f the East Goths, histor­
ical but converted into the very m odel o f a medieval
tyrant; he is so portrayed in the O ld English poems
“D eor” and “W idsith.”

ESH ER (Æschere): a D anish noblem an, high in the

councils o f King H rothgar, and long his close and trusted
friend. Esher is killed by GrendePs m other.

F IN N (Finn): a F risian king, m arried to H naf’s sister.

FITLA (Fitela): son (and nephew ) o f Siegmund. His
role, in this and other sim ilar stories, is quite dissim ilar
to th at o f Siegfried, who is Siegmund’s son (and nephew)
in the Nibelungenlied and in the W agner operas.
FR A N K S (Francan): a W est G erm an people, resident
near the R hine and the M euse rivers. A Frankish tribe
conquered G aul, about A .D . 500, and gave its nam e to
m odern France.
FR EA W (Freawaru): a D anish princess, H rothgar’s
daughter. She is given in m arriage to Ingeld, a H atho-
bard prince, in the vain hope o f settling the feud between
the two peoples.
FRISIA N S (Fresan, Frysan): a W est Germ an people,
resident in w hat is now northw estern H olland.

FR O D A (Froda): chief o f the H athobards, Ingeld’s

father.
GARM U N D (Garmund): Offa’s father.
GEATS (Geatas, Geotena): a people o f southern Sweden,
the G 0tar, conquered by the Swedish kingdom in about
152 G lossary o f N a m e s

the sixth century a .d. Infinite ink has been spilled about
the precise identification o f this people, and their home*
land; any and all O ld English editions o f Beowulf (or
a fine compendium like R . W. Cham bers’ Beowulf) can
lead the interested reader as far as—and probably further
than—he cares to go.
GOTHS (GiJSas): I have here substituted the well-known
Goths for their virtually unknown cousins, the GiJSas. The
la tte r tribe em igrated from lands near the m outh o f the
V istula (a river in Poland) about the th ird century a.d.,
settled near the lower D anube, and were wiped out as an
independent political entity by the Lom bards, toward the
end of the sixth century A.D.
GRENDEL (Grendel): a m an-eating m onster who ter­
rorizes the D anes until killed by Beowulf. G rendel lives,
w ith his equally m onstrous m other, a t the bottom o f a
foul lake inhabited by assorted other m onsters; he is
descended from C ain (the progenitor o f all evil spirits),
though his precise genealogy is no t given. The etymology
of his nam e is conjectural: it is perhaps related to Old
N orse grindill, “storm ,” and grenja, “to bellow,” and to
other words meaning “sand,” “ground (bottom) o f a body
o f w ater,” and “grinder (destroyer).”
HALGA (Halga): a D anish prince, third son o f Healf-
dane, younger brother o f K ing H rothgar, and father o f
H rothulf. H alga predeceased king H rothgar by some
tw enty years. The epithet “good” m ay have been given
him for strictly m etrical reasons; nothing in the poem
explains it.

HAM A (Hama): a character in the cycle o f stories about

Erm ric (and Theodoric, not m entioned in Beowulf). Pre­
cisely w hat role H am a is supposed to have played,
in the poem’s oblique reference to him, is not under­
stood.
 G lo ss a ry o f N a m e s 153

HARETH (HæreS): Higd’s father, apparently a pros­

perous man of standing.
HATHCYN (.ffætfcyn): a king of the Geats, Hrethel’s
second son, who ascends the throne after he accidentally
kills his older brother, Herbaid, and their father
has died of grief. Hathcyn is killed by Ongentho,
king of the Swedes, in a war which then sees On­
gentho killed by a second band of Geats, led by
Higlac.
HATHLAF (H eaþólaf): a Wulfing warrior, slain by
Edgetho; his death causes a feud which is settled, after
Edgetho has been exiled, by the intercession (and gold) of
Hrothgar.
HATHOBARDS (.HeaSobeardan): a seafaring German
tribe, sometimes identified with the Lombards (who had
not yet migrated down toward Italy), sometimes with the
Eruhans, but not definitely placed either historically or
geographically. They may have lived, at least for a time,
on the south Baltic coast
HEALEDANE (H ealfdene): a Danish king, Beo’s son,
and father of Hergar, Hrothgar, Halga, and Urs. Whether
or not the name means Half-Dane is uncertain.
HEMMING (Hemming): a kinsman of Offa, though in
what precise relationship is not known.
HENGEST (Hengest): a Danish warrior, Hnaf*s chief
lieutenant and, de facto, his successor.
HERBALD (Herebeald): a prince o f the Geats, Hrethel’s
oldest son. He is killed, in a hunting accident, by his
brother, Hathcyn, and his necessarily unavenged death
causes his father to die o f grief. The parallel with the
Balder (Baldr) myth has often been noted.
154 Glossary o f Names
HERDRED (Heardred): a king of the Geats, Higlac’s
son, killed by the powerful Swedish king, Onela.
HERGAR (.Heorogar): a Danish king, oldest son of
Healfdane, older brother and predecessor of Hrothgar,
and father of Herward. His reign was apparently a brief
one.
HERMOD (Heremod): an archetypal but partly historical
Danish king, of great military prowess combined with the
lowest possible character. Like Wayland, die famous
smith, Hermod is mentioned frequently in die poetry of
other Germanic languages.
HEROT (Heorot): the lofty batde hall built by King
Hrothgar, to celebrate his victories, house his growing
band of followers, and perhaps to perpetuate his fame. As
the poet hints, in lines 84- 85, a coming war will result in
the burning down of Hero!
HERWARD (Heoroweard): Hergar’s son. He seems to
have been by-passed, at his father's death (his uncle
Hrothgar taking the throne), either because he was
thought too young to rule or because he had been out of
favor with his father. See lines 2160- 2162, and see under
Hrothulf, below.
HIGD (Hygd): Higlac's wife, Hareth's daughter. Her
name means ''thoughtful,” or “prudent.”
HIGLAC (HygelaCy Higelac): a king o f the Geats,
Hrethel’s son, younger brother of Herbaid and Hathcyn.
Higlac is both Beowulf’s feudal lord and his uncle.
HNAF (Hnæf): a Danish king, killed by Finn; his sister
was Finn's wife.
HONDSHEW (Hondscioh): a Geat warrior, one of Beo­
wulf’s companions on the journey to King Hrothgar’s
 G lo ssa ry o f N a m e s 155

court. Hondshew is the man killed and eaten by Grendel,

on the evening when the Geats instead of the Danes lay
sleeping in Herot, Hrothgar’s hall—the evening when
Beowulf, instead of becoming the monster’s second vic­
tim, gave Grendel his mortal wound.
HRETHEL (Hreðel): a king of the Geats, Higlac’s
father, Beowulfs grandfather.
HRETHRIC (HreSric): the older of Hrothgar’s two
young sons.
HROTHGAR (HrotSgar): a Danish king, second son of
Healfdane, builder of Herot, and beneficiary of Beowulfs
courage. One of the principal characters of the poem, he
is depicted as near the end o f his life, wise, brave, but
troubled, remembering his glorious past, afflicted with
first Grendel and then Grendel’s monstrous mother, and
worried about the fate o f his sons, at his nephew
Hrothulf’s hands, after his imminent death. Hrothgar has
befriended Beowulf’s father, which more than satisfac­
torily accounts for the help Beowulf gives him.
HROTHMUND (HroSmwtd): the younger of Hrothgar’s
two young sons.
HROTHULF (HroSulJ): Halga’s son, Hrothgar’s nephew.
Although Welthow, Hrothgar’s queen, invokes the spirit
of good will prevailing at the Danish court, and predicts
that Hrofhulf will guard her two young sons, the Anglo-
Saxon listener knew that Hrothulf was later to seize the
throne, after Hrothgar’s death, and also was to murder
Hrethric, Hrothgar’s legal heir. Hrothulf, the Anglo-
Saxon listener knew further, was subsequently to be
killed by Hergafs son, Herward—but none of this is
stated in the poem.
HRUNTTNG (Hrunting ): Unferth’s ancient sword. Few
things show more clearly the importance of weapons
156 G lossary o f N a m e s

(and armor), in Anglo-Saxon culture, than their being

assigned names—and, on occasion, other personalized
characteristics.
INGELD (Ingeld ): a prince of the Hathobards, Froda’s
son, married to Freaw, the Danish princess.
JUTES (Eotari): a Frisian people, or a people allied with
(and possibly subordinate to?) the Frisians.
NAGLING ( Nægling): the name o f Beowulf’s sword.
See under Hiunting, above.
OFFA (Offa): a king of the Angles-—those of them who
did not migrate to Angle-land (England) but remained
on the European continent Offa is the husband and
tamer o f Thrith. Various historical and mythological
narratives are fused in this briefly told tale (see also the
Old English poem “Widsith”).
ONELA (Onela): a Swedish king, younger son of On-
gentho, and husband of the Danish king Healfdane’s
daughter. Onela seized the Swedish throne, after his older
brother’s death; his brother’s sons fled to Herdred, king
of the Geats. The Swedish king thereupon invaded Geat-
land, killed Herdred and the older of his two nephews
(the legal heir to the Swedish throne), but then returned
home and permitted Beowulfto rule Geatland. However,
Beowulf soon supported an invasion of Sweden by the
surviving nephew, and the latter took both Onela’s life
and his throne. The poet regards Onela as something of
a model king.
ONGENTHO ( Ortgenþéow): a Swedish king, mighty
in battle, and obviously respected by the poet. In the
fighting which followed Hrethel’s death, Ongentho first
killed Hathcyn, the Geats’ king, and was then himself
killed by another group of Geats, led by Higlac. Ongen­
tho is Onela’s father.
 G lo ssa ry o f N a m e s 157

REN N SBU RG (Hreosnabeorh): the location o f the bat­

tle betw een Swedes and Geats, in which first Hathcyn
and then Ongentho are killed.
SH ILD (Scyld): a D anish king, Beo’s father, H ealfdane’s
grandfather, and H rothgar’s great-grandfather. Shild is
mythological; he has Scandinavian analogues, as SkjQldr,
and scholars have elaborated a variety o f possible reli-
gious/agricultural meanings for his story.
SIEG M U N D (Sigemund): son o f Vels, father (and uncle)
o f Fitla. This is the Nibelungeniied (and W agner’s) Sieg-
m und in one o f his assorted other incarnations.
SW ERTING (Swelling): Higlac’s grandfather.
TH R ITH (J*ry5, ModþrySo): Offa’s wife, and a type o f
haughty, violent young woman very like K atharina, in
Shakespeare’s The Taming o f the Shrew. Like K atharina,
T hrith is tam ed and gentled by a husband stronger even
than she; unlike The Taming o f the Shrew, the poem
does not tell us precisely how the m iracle was accom­
plished.
U N FER TH ( UnferíS): one o f H rothgar’s courtiers, skill­
ful w ith words, and also a m an o f considerable reputa­
tion as a w arrior; his father is Ecglaf. U nferth’s sword,
lent to Beowulf for the fight with G rendel’s m other, is
called H runting.
VELS (Wcels): Siegmund’s father. The fam ilial name is,
in this version o f the story, derived from VQlsung, in the
H orse saga.
W AYLAND ( Weland): a sm ith celebrated in many sur­
viving G erm anic poems; to ascribe a sword or a mail
shirt to his gifted ham m er was to evoke an autom atic
association o f wonderful workmanship and, in most
cases, also o f wonderful men and deeds. W ayland is men­
158 G lossary o f N a m e s

tioned at some length in “Deor,” perhaps the oldest sur­

viving Old English poem (see Raffel, Poemsfrom the Old
English [ 1960], pp. 39- 40).
W ELTHOW ( Wealhpeow): H rothgar’s queen, and the
m other o f his young sons, H rethric and Hrothm und.
M ost o f her speeches are full o f tragic im plications, well-
known to the Anglo-Saxon audience. See under Hrothulf,
above.
W EXSTAN (W ihstan, W eohstan ): W iglaf’s father, and
more, or less vaguely related to Beowulf. W exstan killed
the older o f O nela’s nephew s, w hen th at Swedish king
invaded G eatland, b u t whether he was him self a Swede,
or a G eat serving the Swedes, is not know n. In any case,
after the survivor o f O nela’s tw o nephew s returned to
Sweden, killed Onela, and becam e king, W exstan could
not (and did not) rem ain in Sweden.
W IGLAF (W iglaf): a G eat w arrior, m ore or less vaguely
related to Beowulf, possibly having some Swedish blood;
his father is W exstan. Chosen to accompany Beowulf to
the aged hero’s fight with the dragon, W iglaf is the only
member of a presum ably select band who goes to Beo­
w ulf’s help. H e seems to have becom e king, after Beo­
w ulf’s death.
W U LF (W ulf): a G eat w arrior, Efor’s brother.
W U LFG A R (W ulfgar): H rothgar’s herald. The precise
fam ilial link which leads the poet to call him “a prince
born to the Swedes” (þset wæs W endla leod) is missing.
WTJLFINGS ( Wylfingas): a Germ anic tribe, probably
resident south of the Baltic Sea. W elthow, H rothgar’s
queen, may have been a Wuifing.
YRS (Yrse): daughter of H ealfdane. H er nam e is not ac­
tually given in the m anuscript; despite the high degree
 G lo ssa ry o f N a m e s 159

o f probability, editors have hesitated to fill the gap with

anything more th a n [ ] and a footnote. A translator
m ust either gamble or evade.
 GENEALOGIES
t h e Vs b a t s

Swerting
1
Hrethel
I
1 1 1 1
Herbald Hathcyn Higlac (daughter)
m. Higd /71. Edgetho
1
1------ — 1— i Beowulf
(daughter) Herdred
7w. Efor

THB DANES

Shild
Beo
I
Healfdane
____ i____
I----- -------- 1-------
Hrothgar
— i
Hergar Halga Yrs
m. Welthow m. Onela

I ----- 1
Hrethric Hrothmund Freaw
m. Ingeld
Herward Hrothulf

THB SWEDES

Ongentho
___ I___
Ohther Onela
/71. Yrs
i— — !
Eanmund Eadgils