Then for the sons of Goths a bench was cleared, Then follows in the poem talk over the feast. Hunferth, the son of Ecglaf, who sat at the feet of Hrothgar, twitted Beowulf with failure when he matched himself on the wide sea with Breca for a five-day swimming match. Beowulf, asserting himself, told how he and Breca, being youths together, braved the perils of the sea, added a taunt against Hunferth that he was the murderer of his own brother, and said that if he had the spirit he boasted of, he would not have suffered Grendel to prevail against his prince. But Grendel had found that he need not care about the Danes. A Goth now shall give him unexpected battle. The rough taunts and rough boasting over the ale-cup were but after the fashion of the heroes of a half-barbarous time; they gave confidence in the courage of the boaster. It rejoiced Hrothgar, hoary and famed in war, as he sat on the gift-stool; there was laughter of men, the noise of music, talk was pleasant. Wealtheow, Hrothgar's queen, went forth and greeted the men in the hall; first she gave the cup to Hrothgar and bade him be blithe at the beer-drinking, then she went through the hall to old and young, and when she came to Beowulf with the mead-cup greeted him, and thanked God who had given her trust in the help of man. Beowulf, the son of Ecgtheow, spake: "I meant, Would work your people's will, or yield my life, Those words, the Goth's proud speech, well pleased The people's joyful queen, adorned with gold, As now to thee. Have thou and hold thou now The glory of kings had against Grendel set The warrior bowed him, to the bolster laid In the wan night the shadow-walker came. Then from the moor, under the shroud of mist, To snare one of man's race. He went under the clouds Till he saw clearly the gold-hall of men, The wine-house, gay with cups; nor then first sought He found, or hall thanes. Journeying to the house With bands fire - hardened; with his hands broke through, For he was swollen with rage, the house's mouth. The foe trod; on he went with ireful mood, Came from his eyes a fierce light likest fire.1 Of comrades, all together; then he laughed : After that night more of the race of men. A sleeper, slit him unaware, bit through The dead man, feet and hands. Then nearer, forth The earl advanced more. The bold champion thought Of smiths. There many a mead-bench, gold adorned, Old counsellors of the Scyldings never thought That any man in hate and slaughter stained Could break it or unclose it by his craft, But only by the hot embrace of fire. Uprose a cry, new, urgent; a dire fear Fell on the North Danes, on each one of those If so he might, the prince's life. They knew not, 1 Likest fire. First-English poetry contained few similes. This is only the second in Beowulf (the former-page 3, col. 2, line 8 from bottom-compared the movement of Beowulf's vessel to that of a bird), and in the whole of the long poem there are only five. The strife, and sought to hew on every side, To his fen shades, death-struck, must Grendel flee, So he who had come from afar fulfilled In deadly fight the will of all the Danes; Saved it from malice. Glad in his night's work, Then in the morning many came from far and near to see the wonder. They followed the track of blood left by the monster to the Nickers' Mere, which they found surging with foul blood; the death-doomed had dyed it as he plunged down to his fen shelter. Then from the Mere glad comrades, old and young, went back exulting to ride their horses. They exalted the name of Beowulf, but in nothing they blamed the glad Hrothgar, for that was a good king. At times, where the ground was smooth, they raced their fallow steeds. At times a thane laden with gloryings of song, who had many an old tale in memory, found a new theme with truth in it. He told of the voyage of Beowulf, and skilfully put into words the story of his enterprise. The poet, who shaped for chanting in the halls of chiefs and to the people in their common gatherings this tale of Beowulf, here blends with his song memories of older legends as he goes on to realise the singing of the gleemen who quickened joy after the victory of Beowulf over Grendel. There is a snatch of the Volsunga saga," the old Scandinavian legend that has yielded matter to the German "Nibelungenlied;" and the form of its incidents must have been that of the old tale as it was told before the days even of the "Edda" and the "Volsunga saga," thus giving indirect evidence of the remote origin of our First-English legend of Beowulf. Warriors came to the hall to see the wonder of the giant's arm; the king came from his bower, the queen among her maidens. Hrothgar, thanking God, declared that he would thenceforth look on Beowulf as a son, and that he should not want treasure within his gift. Beowulf told his achievement. Hunferth, the son of Ecglaf, boasted less when the nobles saw over the high roof the hand and fingers of the foe, which, instead of nails, had handspurs likest steel." Then Heorot was prepared for feasting; tapestries were spread along the walls. The dwelling was much shattered; bands were loosened, hinges 1ent, but the roof was sound. Hrothgar went to the feast with the warriors. Beside him was his nephew Hrothulf (the Rolf Kraka of Northern legend), son of his brother Halga. Then Hrothgar gave to Beowulf a golden banner, with chased hilt, helmet, breastplate, and a costly sword. Then were led in eight horses, one with a richly adorned saddle, the war-seat of the high king. To Beowulf all were given, horses and weapons. To each of Beowulf's companions who had crossed the sea with him Hrothgar gave a rich present, given as he sat on the mead-bench; and he ordered that gold should be paid for the one whom Grendel had slain, as he would have slain more had not fate and the prowess of man prevented. Again the gleemen sang, and again within this old poem, when it recalls strains of the older bards, there lies, in this place at some length, a fragment of another song that tells the fight at Finnesburg. The lay was sung, sport was again loud as the cups were filled. Then Wealtheow came forth to where Hrothgar and Hrothulf sat yet at peace together. She offered the cup to Hrothgar, bade him be gold-friend of men and liberal to the Goths. Then follows in the poem a touch of the mother's pleading for her boys. Heorot is saved, and when the old Hrothgar shall die there will be a realm to pass to her children Hrethric and Hrothmund. To Hrothgar, who has Hrothulf at his side, she says: 2 "I know that my glad Hrothulf will maintain Here each is true to other, mild of mood, This utterance of the mother's heart in commending her young sons to the care of the two men who have power to usurp their rights after the death of their father, who is already stooping to the grave, adds a fine touch of nature to the picture of the feast. Here ends what some regard as the whole of a tale to which other adventures afterwards were added-the fight with Grendel's mother, and the fight in which Beowulf received his death-wound. But the adventure with Grendel's mother does not well bear separation from the other story: men drank wine, They knew not fate, or grim calamity When the Danes slept throughout the hall, she came to Heorot. When she rushed in, swords and shields were snatched from over the benches, helmets and war-shirts were forgotten. Dread of a woman is less than of an armed man, with the boar above his helmet, and the smithied sword bloodstained, whose sharp edge cleaves. In haste to save her life she seized one of the Athelings, dearest of Hrothgar's warriors, as she hurried out to the fen. Beowulf was not there, for after the gifts of honour another sleeping-place had been assigned to him. Then was lament again in Heorot. She took, covered with blood, the well-known hand. Hrothgar was angered by the death of his chief thane, Æschere, his dearest friend. Beowulf suddenly was sent for to his chamber, and to him Hrothgar told at length his trouble. From the home of Grendel had risen Grendel's mother. "The country people talking in my hall I have heard say that they upon the moor Have seen two striders of the border-land, Strange beings, of which one, as they could tell Most nearly, was in woman's likeness, one A wandering man, larger than other men, They know not of a father, whether more Had been of those dark spirits. They inhabit Where, under mountain mist, the stream flows down, Is seen, fire in the water. No man knows, Not the most wise, the bottom of that mere. The firm-horned heath-stalker, the hart, when pressed, Thou knowest not yet the spot, the place of daring Then Ecgtheow's son, Beowulf, replied to him, "Wise man, sorrow not, Then the old chief Leapt up, gave thanks to God the mighty lord, But the next passage in the poem I translate into a measure that repeats the form of the original. First-English was written to be chanted to a rude stringed instrument, and transmitted from lip to lip by memory. There was no rhyme, or equal numbering of syllables, but accent suited to the thought, and alliteration, or repeating through two half-lines of the same consonant at the beginning of three words of chief importance. In the first of the two half-lines there were two words with the repeated initial letter, and in the second halfline there was one. Alliteration of a word with a prefix to it was on the main word, not on the prefix, as is shown in the lines: A horse bitted, With curling crest. Warriors marched also Then there were shown Her way through the waste, As they went forward Of Hrothgar's heroes, And some of the bravest To explore the plain, For the Scyldings' friends; A horror for heroes, Was found by the steep flood Floated ashore. The water welled blood. The warriors gazed On the hot heart's blood, The band all sat. They saw along the water many of the worm kind, strange sea-dragons; also in clefts of the nesses Nickers lying. These hurried away, 1 Nicker houses. The nicker was a water-goblin who in old Scandinavian legends rose out of lakes in the shape of a grey water-horse, and was known by the inverted marks of its hoof. It could transform itself into many shapes. From the association of nickers with lakes, a poetical Norse name for a lake was nykraborg, nickerborough. The word nick is thought by some to be allied to the nep of Neptune. The word is common in Teutonic languages, and is applied in English popular speech as Old Nick to the Devil. 2 This bit of translation is taken from the first volume of my "English Writers." From this point also to the end of the second adventure I will tell the tale as I told it sixteen years ago. In the volume of this Library illustrating "Shorter English Poems," pages 8-11, is an Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Fortunes of Men," which I have endeavoured to reproduce in the original measure; and there is another, "The Seafarer," on pages 13-15 of "Illustrations of English Religion.” bitter and angry, as soon as they heard the warhorn. One the Goth's lord killed with an arrow. Quickly on the wave he was, with boar-spears, sharply hooked and drawn on the ness. His Beowulf clad himself in weeds of a chief. warbyrnie, twisted with hands, wide and cunningly dyed, must know the deeps. But the white helm guarded his head made worthy with riches, girt with lordly links, beset with the likeness of swine, that no brand might bite into it. Nor least of aids was the hafted sword, Hrunting its name, lent him by Hrothgar's speaker. Its edge was iron, tainted with poison twigs, hardened with warriors' blood. Ecglaf's son bore not in mind what he had said drunken with wine, when he lent the weapon to a better swordwielder. Himself durst not meet death under the stir of waters. Beowulf spake, "Gold-friend of men, I am ready. If I die for thy need, be a helper to my fellow-thanes, and send, dear Hrothgar, to Hygelac the gold thou hast given me, that the Goth's lord may know I found a good bestower of rings. And let the far-famed man have my sword Hunferth, the old relic. I will with Hrunting work my doom." He awaited no answer, the sea-wave took the warlike man. It was a day's space ere he sank to ground. Then she who had dwelt in the flood, grim and greedy, for a hundred years, saw a man coming from above into the land of wonders, grasped at him and clutched the warrior. But she could not break his ring mail with her fingers. The sea-wolf bore the prince of rings to her dwelling, many a sea-beast with its war tusks broke his mail. Then the warrior found himself in a roofed hall, where was no water. A pale beam of firelight shone, and then he saw the ground wolf, the mighty mere wife. He struck hard with his war-sword. The edge failed. The angry fighter cast upon the earth the twisted brand and trusted in his strength, the might of his hand-grip. So shall a man do when he thinks to gain in battle lasting praise, nor careth for his life. Then Grendel's mother seized the Goth's lord by the shoulder. Fearless he dragged her till she bowed. She caught him quickly with fierce grasps, and threw him weary, pressed him down and drew her seax, broad, brown-edged. She would avenge her son. The braided breast-net on his shoulder withstood point and edge. He saw among the weapons a huge bill, an old sword of the Eotens, work of giants, greater than any other man might bear forth to the game of war. The Scyldings' warrior stood up and seized the knotted hilt, fast and fierce he struck with the brand upon her neck, her bone rings brake, the bill went through her flesh, she sank on the ground. The sword was gory, the beam still shone, mild as the light from heaven's candle. He looked through that dwelling and saw Grendel lying lifeless. His huge trunk sprang far away, when he cut off the head. But then behold! that sword melted away as ice in the hot venomous blood; there was left only the hilt. Beowulf took none of the wealth that he saw he took only the giant's head and the rich sword-hilt. The men who were with Hrothgar looking on the water saw it mixed with new blood. They said this was a warning that the Atheling was slain. Then came the noon of day, and the bold Scyldings left the headland, sick of mood, gazing upon the mere, wishing, not weening, to see their dear lord. Forthwith he was afloat; he dived up through the water, came swimming to land, glad in the burthen he brought with him. The stout band of thanes loosed quickly his helm and war-shirt, the stream trickled down of water stained with gore. When they went forth from the seashore, four men could hardly bear upon the deadly stake the head of Grendel. So they came to the hall, fourteen brave Goths marching with their lord over the meadows. The worthiest of thanes came to greet Hrothgar; then Grendel's head was borne by the hair into the place where men were drinking, and the head of the woman also. Beowulf said: "Behold, these tokens from the sea we bring with gladness to thee, son of Healfdene, lord of Seyldings. Now may'st thou with thy warriors in Heorot sleep free from sorrow." The golden hilt, the giant's work of old, was given to the hoar war-leader. Hrothgar gazed on the hilt; in Runic signs the tale of its birth was told upon it. Then spake the son of Healfdene; all were silent : "Thy glory is upreared now through wide ways, Beowulf, my friend. Long shalt thou be a blessing to thy people." Many words spake Hrothgar, for he spake of the past and of its warnings to his friend and to the folk around him. The Goth, glad of mood, went to his seat; there was a new feast made. The helm of night grew murky, the aged Seylding sought his bed, and the Goth wished for rest. The guest slept till the black raven, gladdener of heaven, blithe of heart announced the coming of the light. The Athelings then wished to go to their own land, and Beowulf bade the son of Ecglaf take again his sword; gave for the lending thanks, said that he held Hrunting to be good, he would not with blame hurt pride in its good edge; that was a high-souled warrior. Hrothgar said: Peace be to the Goths and the Gar Danes; wealth in common. Over the gannet's bath the ringed bark shall bring gifts and love-tokens. Each folk I know, fast friend, fast foe, and in the old way stainless always." Twelve gifts also gave to Beowulf the son of Healfdene, bade him go and quickly come again. The good king kissed the best of thanes, and tears fell as he took him round the neck. The bright warriors went to the ship, laden with weapons, steeds and gold; the mast rose over Hrothgar's hoards. Beowulf gave to the boatguard a sword bound with gold, and on the meadbench he was afterwards the worthier for that heirloom. They sailed away, and the known headlands of the Goths were reached. The hithe-guard who had seen them when afar was ready; he bound the ship to the sand and bade men bear to the hall of Hygelac, who dwelt by the sea-wall, the wealth of the Athelings. Kinsman faced kinsman; Hæreth's daughter bare the wine-cup to the high chief's hand. Here the first great section of the poem ends. German critics are disposed to represent Beowulf |