mind set on evil; but bold in his might he made trial of me, with ready hand. gripped me. A pouch hung, wide and wondrous strange, made fast by cunningly wrought bands. It was all skilfully devised by a devil's craft from dragons' skins. Therein he would thrust me, a guiltless man, along with many others, the fierce doer of evil. It might not be so after I stood upright in anger. It is too long to tell how I repaid the folkscather his dues for every one of his evils. There, my lord, I honored thy people with deeds. He escaped away, possessed life's joys a little while. However, his right hand remained behind in Heorot, and he went thence wretched,fell sad at heart to the bottom of the mere. The friend of the Scyldings requited me liberally for the strife, with beaten gold, many a treasure, when morning came and we had sat down together. There was song and mirth. The aged Scylding with mind well stored told of things long ago. At times the brave one in battle called forth the joy of the harp, the wood noted for mirth; at times the great-hearted king told a tale true and moving, at times related in fitting wise. a wondrous story. At times again the warrior, full of years and bound by age, began to mourn his youth, his strength in battle. His breast heaved within him when, with the wisdom of many winters, he called to mind many things. So there inside we took our pleasure the whole day long, until another night came to men. Soon then, indeed, was Grendel's mother eager for revenge; in sorrowful mood she journeyed. Death had taken away her son--war-hate of the Weders. The hideous wife avenged her offspring, in her fury killed a thane: there life departed from Eschere, a counsellor old and wise. Nor when morning came could the Danefolk consume him with fire, the deathwearied man, nor lay the one they loved

on the funeral pyre. She bore the body away in her fiendish embrace under the mountain stream. That was to Hrothgar the greatest sorrow that long befell the people's lord. Then the prince, sorely troubled in mind, implored me by thy life that I should do earlship in the press of waves, should venture my life, do a glorious deed. He promised me reward. Then, as is well known, I found the grim and terrible keeper of the flood. There to us two for a while was joining of hands. The wave seethed with blood, and I cut off the head of Grendel's mother with a mighty sword in the battle-chamber. Not easily thence did I escape with life. I was not yet doomed to die. Instead, the protector of earls, the son of Healfdene, again gave me many treasures.

"So the people's king lived virtuously. In no wise did I miss my reward, the meed of my might, but the son of Healfdene gave me treasures at my own choice. I wish to bring them to thee, King Hygelac, to present them with right good will. Truly all my happiness is dependent on thee. Save thee, Hygelac, I have few close kinsmen."

He bade them bring in the boar-crested banner, the battle towering helmet, the gray byrnie, the splendid war-sword, after which he uttered this speech: "This armor Hrothgar, the wise king, gave me. In a word he bade that I should first tell thee its history. He said that King Heregar, Lord of the Scyldings, had had it a long while; yet none the sooner would he

1 There are no sections numbered XXIX and XXX in the manuscript, although nothing seems to be lost.

give the breast-garments to his son, bold Heoroweard, though he was dear to him. Enjoy it all well!"

I heard that four dappled horses alike in speed followed the trappings. He made him a present of horses and treasures. So shall a kinsman do and in no case weave a net of treachery for the other by secret wiles, or prepare death for his comrade. To Hygelac, strong in battle, his nephew was very dear; each was mindful of the other's good. I heard tell that he gave to Hygd the necklace splendid with wondrous jewels, which Wealtheow gave to him, the King's daughter, together with three horses, graceful and brightly saddled. Ever after, when she had received she had received the ring, her breast was adorned with it.

So the son of Ecgtheow showed himself brave, a man known in war for his good deeds, and bore himself with honor. He did not slay his hearth-companions when they were flushed with drink; his mind was not cruel, though, stern in battle, he ruled with strength greatest among mankind, the generous gift that God had given him. He had been long despised, for the sons of the Geats did not count him good, nor would the Lord of the Weders honor him with much on the mead-bench. They felt sure he was slothful, an an atheling without spirit. Change came to the well-honored man from each of his griefs.

Then the protector of earls, the warfamed king, bade them fetch in Hrethel's ' legacy, adorned with gold. As for treasures, there was nothing better in the way of a sword among the Geats. He laid it in Beowulf's lap and gave him seven thousand hides,' a house and a princely seat. By both jointly the land was inherited in the country, their ancestral estate, though the other more espe

1 1A measure of land, sufficient to support a family.

cially had wide domain because he was of higher rank.

HOW BEOWULF BECAME KING. OF THE DRAGON THAT GUARDED THE HOARD

Afterwards it happened in later days through clashes of battle when Hygelac lay dead and battle-swords beneath shields became the death of Heardred,— when the stern warriors, the HeathoScylfings, sought him among the victors. and violently attacked the nephew of Hereric,-that then the broad kingdom came into the hands of Beowulf. He ruled well fifty winters the king was then old, the aged defender of the landuntil on dark nights one began to hold sway, a dragon, that on the high heath watched over some treasure-hoard, a high stone barrow. A path lay beneath, unknown to men. Therein went some man, I know not who, made his way forward nigh to the heathen hoard, took in his hand a large cup, tawny with gold. Nor did he afterwards conceal it, though while sleeping he had been tricked by the thief's cunning. That the people, the neighboring nation of warriors, found out; they realized that he was angry.

3

XXXII

THE MOUND, THE HOARD, AND THE DRAGON'S WRATH

It was not of his own accord that he broke into the dragon's board, nor by his own wish, he who did the dragon. wrong but for sore distress the slave of I know not whom among the children of men fled from angry blows and, in want of shelter, got inside, a guilty man. Soon terror stood in the heart of the visitor. Yet when the danger overtook

2 mound

3 The dragon.

him and the wretched fugitive fled from the dragon, he took the vessel with him.1

There were many such age-hallowed treasures in the earth-house as I know not what man in years past with careful thought hid them there, the vast legacy of a noble race, priceless things. Death took them all long ago and the one still of that company of men who wandered there longest, mourning for his friends, expected the same fate, and knew that he would be able to enjoy the longhoarded treasure but for a little while. The barrow, newly prepared and ready, stood on the plain by a bluff near the sea, made secure by skilful concealment. There within, the keeper of rings bore the part of the treasure worthy of the hoard, the beaten gold. Few words he spoke:

"Now keep thou, earth, since heroes may not, the possessions of earls. Behold, in thee good men erst got it; death in battle, the terrible life-bale, took away each of the men of my people who gave up this life, the hall-joy of warriors. I have no one who may bear the sword or burnish the gold-fretted cup, precious drinking-bowl. The warrior band has passed elsewhere. The hard helmet, adorned with gold, shall be stripped of its ornaments; polishers sleep who were wont to burnish the war-masks; yea, too, the coat of mail that in battle survived the crash of shields and the bite of blades crumbles after the warrior. Nor may the ringed byrnie fare far with the war-chief, at the side of heroes; no more is there joy of the harp, the glee-beam's delight, nor does the good hawk fly through the hall, nor swift horse stamp in the town. Grim death hath sent on many of the race of the living!" So, sad of mood, he mourns his sorrows one after the

1 These two sentences are largely conjectural, the MS. being badly damaged at this point.

other, wanders cheerless by day and night until death's surge reaches his heart.

The old night-spoiler found the joyhoard standing open-he that with flaming breath seeks the mounds, the naked, baleful dragon-flies by night enveloped in fire. Earth-dwellers greatly fear him. His fate is to seek treasure in the ground where, old in winters, he guards heathen gold. Nor is it in any way the better for him.

So the folk-scather for three hundred winters held a mighty treasure-house in the earth, until a man made him angry in mood, bore to his liege lord the goldfretted cup, entreated a bond of peace from his prince. Then was the treasure explored, the hoard of rings carried off, and his boon granted to the wretched man. His lord saw the ancient work of men for the first time.

When the dragon awoke, strife was renewed. He strode quickly along the rock; the stout-hearted one perceived the toe's tracks. He had stepped with furtive skill too far forward, too near the head of the dragon. So may one who is not yet doomed to die easily survive trouble and exile, he whom the grace of the Lord protects! The guardian of the hoard sought eagerly along the ground, would find the man who sorely dealt with him while he slept. Hot and savage of mood he often wandered outside, all about the mound; nor was any man there on the wasteland. Yet he rejoiced in war, in the work of battle. At length he went into the barrow and sought the cup. He soon perceived that some one had tampered with the gold, the noble treasures. The guardian waited impatiently until evening came. Then was the barrow's warden full of rage; the hateful creature would atone with fire for the precious drinking-bowl. Finally, with joy to the dragon was the day gone; he did not wish to wait longer by the wall, but went

Then the stranger began to spew forth flame, to burn the bright dwellings-the gleam of fire shone forth horribly to men. The hateful air-flyer would leave nothing alive there. The warfare of the dragon was widely seen, the violence of the wrathful one far and near, and how the war-scather persecuted and injured the Geat-folk. He hastened back to the hoard, the secret chamber, ere day time. He had enveloped the country in flame, in fire and burning. He trusted to his mound, to valor and his wall. But his hope played him false. Then was the horror made known to Beowulf, quickly in truth, for his own home, fairest of buildings, the gift seat of the Geats, melted in the fiery waves. To the good king that was sorrow of heart, greatest of griefs. The wise ruler thought that against the old law he had sorely offended God, the eternal Lord. His breast seethed within with dark thoughts, as was not usual with him. The fire-dragon had consumed with flame the stronghold of the people, the island from without, their fortress. Against him, therefore, the war-king, Lord of the Weders, planned revenge. The protector of warriors bade them make for him a wondrous war-shield all of iron. He well knew that a wooden buckler would not help him, linden against fire. The age-honored atheling must abide the end of his fleeting days,

1⚫hrone

of life in the world, and the dragon with him, though he had long held the treasure-hoard. The lord of rings scorned to seek the far-flier with a host, a great force. He did not fear the conflict, nor consider at all the serpent's valor, his might and courage, because he erst had passed through many contests, risking dangers, many crashes of battle, since as a victorious warrior he cleansed Hrothgar's hall and crushed to death in the fight Grendel's kin of the hateful

race.

2

Not the least of hand-encounters was that where Hygelac was slain, when the king of the Geats in the onrush of battle, the people's lord, Hrethel's son, died of sword-draughts, beaten down by brand. Thence Beowulf escaped by his own. strength, swam with strong stroke. Alone he had on his arm thirty pieces of armor when he came to the sea. No cause had the Hetwaras 3 to exult in their fighting, who before bare shields against him. Few from among the warriors ever came again to visit their homes! Then the son of Ecgtheow swam over the expanse of water, wretched and solitary, back to his people. There Hygd offered him hoard and kingdom, the rings and the throne; she trusted not to her son, that he could guard the ancestral seat against outside nations, now that Hygelac was dead. Yet none the sooner might the wretched people prevail by any means upon the atheling to be lord over Heardred or to accept the rule. But he upheld him among the people with friendly counsel, with kindness and good will, until he was older and ruled the Weder-Geats.

Exiles sought him over the sea, the sons of Ohthere. They had rebelled against the Lord of the Scylfings, the best of the sea-kings who dispensed treasure in Sweden, a famous prince. That was A fine figure, as Professor Gummere remarked the sword drinking the blood from the wound. A Frankish tribe on the lower Rhine.

the cause of Heardred's death.1 There for his hospitality Hygelac's son, received his death wound, by the sword's strokes. Afterwards Ongentheow's son went to seek his home, after Heardred fell, and left Beowulf to occupy the throne, to rule the Geats. He was a good king!

XXXIV

BEOWULF SEEKS OUT THE DRAGON. HIS

WORDS TO HIS MEN

In later days he bore in mind requital for the death of his lord, proved a friend to Eadgils in his miseries; with his people he assisted Ohthere's son over the wide sea, with men and arms. At last he took vengeance with grievous expeditions, deprived the king of life.

Thus had Ecgtheow's son come through each of his troubles safely, of his dire conflicts and works of courage, until that one day when he must fight against the dragon. One of twelve, the Lord of the Geats went enraged with anger to behold the serpent. He had learned whence the feud arose, the affliction of warriors. The wondrous treasure-cup had come into his possession through the finder's hand. He who caused the beginning of the strife was the thirteenth man in the company; a captive, wretched and sorrowful in mind, he must lead the way to the plain. Against his will he went, for he knew the lonely chamber in the earth, the cave under ground near the ocean's surge, the tumult of waves. Within it was full of

When Ohthere, the Swedish king, died, his brother Onela seized the throne. Öhthere's nephews, Eanmund and Eadgils, were forced to flee. They took refuge among the Geats at the court of Heardred. Onela invaded Geatland, and Heardred and Eanmund were slain. Eadgils somehow escaped, later to attack his uncle with the aid of the Geats, and, when Onela was slain, to succeed to the throne (A.D. 530). Meanwhile, after Heardred's death, Onela had returned home and Beowulf became king of the Geats. (See Beowulf, ed. Klaeber, p. xl.)

jewels and things of price. The frightful guard, a ready war-maker, old under earth, watched over the golden treasures. It was no easy bargain for any man to reach it.

Then on the headland the king brave in battle, gold-friend of the Geats, sat down while he saluted his hearth companions. His spirit was heavy, restless and prepared for death. Fate was exceeding near, which must greet the aged man, seek his soul's hiding place, tear asunder life from body. Short then was the warrior's life, clothed in flesh.

Beowulf spoke, son of Ecgtheow: “In my youth I came through many storms of battle, hours of conflict. I remember it all. I was seven winters old when the prince of treasures, the people's lord, received me from my father. Hrethel, the king, watched over and kept me, gave me feast and fee, had my kinship in mind. I was never a whit less dear to him, a youth in the court, than his own children, Herebeald and Hæthcyn, or my own Hygelac. For the eldest a murderous deathbed was unjustly spread through the deeds of his brother, when Hæthcyn struck down his prince with an arrow from the horn-bow,2 missed his mark and shot his kinsman, one brother the other with bloody shaft. That was a fight that could not be atoned for by gold; a great sin was done, full of anguish to the soul. Yet none the less must the youth give up his life unavenged.

"For it is sorrowful to an old man to live to see his son swing young on the gallows. Then may he utter his chant, a doleful song, when his son hangs as a joy to the raven, and he, old and feeble, can give him no help. Always will he be reminded each morning of his son's journey hence. He does not care to wait for another heir within the court when

So called either because of its shape or because, as was often the case, the bow was tipped with horn.