XXVI. MORE CONVERSE OF HROTHGAR AND BEOWULF: THE GEATS MAKE THEM READY FOR DEPARTURE.

Until that within him a deal of o'erthink-ing 1740 Waxeth and groweth while sleepeth the warder, The soul's herdsman; that slumber too fast is forsooth, Fast bounden by troubles, the banesman all nigh, E'en he that from arrow-bow evilly shooteth. Then he in his heart under helm is besmitten With a bitter shaft; not a whit then may he ward him From the wry wonder-biddings of the ghost the all-wicked. Too little he deems that which long he hath hold. Wrath-greedy he covets; nor e'en for boast-sake gives The rings fair beplated; and the forth-coming doom 1750 Forgetteth, forheedeth, for that God gave him erewhile, The Wielder of glory, a deal of the worship. At the ending-stave then it after befalleth That the shell of his body sinks fleeting away, And falleth all fey; and another one fetcheth, E'en one that undolefully dealeth the treasure, The earl's gains of aforetime, and fear never heedeth. From the bale-envy ward thee, lief Beowulf, therefore, Thou best of all men, and choose thee the better, The redes everlasting; to o'erthinkirig turn not, 1760 O mighty of champions! for now thy might breatheth For a short while of time; but eft-soon it shall be That sickness or edges from thy strength thee shall sunder, Or the hold of the fire, or the welling of floods, Or the grip of the sword-blade, or flight of the spear, Or eld the all-evil: or the beaming of eyen Shall fail and shall dim: then shall it be forthright That thee, lordly man, the death over-masters. E'en so I the Ring-Danes for an hundred of seasons Did wield under the welkin and lock'd them by war 1770 From many a kindred the Middle-Garth over With ash-spears and edges, in such wise that not ever Under the sky's run of my foemen I reckoned. What! to me in my land came a shifting of that, Came grief after game, sithence Grendel befell, My foeman of old, mine ingoer soothly. I from that onfall bore ever unceasing Mickle mood-care; herefor be thanks to the Maker, To the Lord everlasting, that in life I abided, Yea, that I on that head all sword-gory there, 1780 Now the old strife is over, with eyen should stare. Go fare thou to settle, the feast-joyance dree thou, O war-worshipp'd! unto us twain yet there will be Mickle treasure in common when come is the morning. Glad of mood then the Geat was, and speedy he gat him To go see the settle, as the sage one commanded. Then was after as erst, that they of the might-fame, The floor-sitters, fairly the feasting bedight them All newly. The helm of the night loured over Dark over the host-men. Uprose all the doughty, 1790 For he, the hoar-blended, would wend to his bed, That old man of the Scyldings. The Geat without measure, The mighty shield-warrior, now willed him rest. And soon now the hall-thane him of way-faring weary, From far away come, forth show'd him the road, E'en he who for courtesy cared for all things Of the needs of the thane, e'en such as on that day The farers o'er ocean would fainly have had. Rested then the wide-hearted; high up the house tower'd Wide-gaping all gold-dight; within slept the guest; 1800 Until the black raven, the blithe-hearted, boded The heavens' joy: then was come thither a-hastening The bright sun o'er the plains, and hastened the scathers, The athelings once more aback to their people All fain to be faring; and far away thence Would the comer high-hearted go visit his keel. Bade then the hard one Hrunting to bear, The Ecglaf's son bade to take him his sword, The iron well-lov'd; gave him thanks for the lending, Quoth he that the war-friend for worthy he told, 1810 Full of craft in the war; nor with word he aught The edge of the sword. Hah! the high-hearted warrior. So whenas all way-forward, yare in their war-gear, Were the warriors, the dear one then went to the Danes, To the high seat went the Atheling, whereas was the other; The battle-bold warrior gave greeting to Hrothgar.



XXVII. BEOWULF BIDS HROTHGAR FAREWELL: THE GEATS FARE TO SHIP.

Out then spake Beowulf, Ecgtheow's bairn: As now we sea-farers have will to be saying, We from afar come, that now are we fainest Of seeking to Hygelac. Here well erst were we 1820 Serv'd as our wills would, and well thine avail was. If I on the earth then, be it e'en but a little, Of the love of thy mood may yet more be an-earning, O lord of the men-folk, than heretofore might I, Of the works of the battle yare then soon shall I be. If I should be learning, I over the flood's run, That the sitters about thee beset thee with dread, Even thee hating as otherwhile did they; Then thousands to theeward of thanes shall I bring For the helping of heroes. Of Hygelac wot I, 1830 The lord of the Geat-folk, though he be but a youngling, That shepherd of folk, that me will he further By words and by works, that well may I ward thee, And unto thine helping the spear-holt may bear, A main-staying mighty, whenas men thou art needing. And if therewith Hrethric in the courts of the Geat-house, The King's bairn, take hosting, then may he a many Of friends find him soothly: far countries shall be Better sought to by him who for himself is doughty. Out then spake Hrothgar in answer to himward: 1840 Thy word-saying soothly the Lord of all wisdom Hath sent into thy mind; never heard I more sagely In a life that so young was a man word be laying; Strong of might and main art thou and sage of thy mood, Wise the words of thy framing. Tell I this for a weening, If it so come to pass that the spear yet shall take, Or the battle all sword-grim, the son of that Hrethel, Or sickness or iron thine Alderman have, Thy shepherd of folk, and thou fast to life hold thee, Then no better than thee may the Sea-Geats be having 1850 To choose for themselves, no one of the kings, Hoard-warden of heroes, if then thou wilt hold Thy kinsman's own kingdom. Me liketh thy mood-heart, The longer the better, O Beowulf the lief; In such wise hast thou fared, that unto the folks now, The folk of the Geats and the Gar-Danes withal, In common shall peace be, and strife rest appeased And the hatreds the doleful which erst they have dreed; Shall become, whiles I wield it, this wide realm of ours, Treasures common to either folk: many a one other 1860 With good things shall greet o'er the bath of the gannet; And the ring'd bark withal over sea shall be bringing The gifts and love-tokens. The twain folks I know Toward foeman toward friend fast-fashion'd together, In every way blameless as in the old wise. Then the refuge of warriors, he gave him withal, Gave Healfdene's son of treasures yet twelve; And he bade him with those gifts to go his own people To seek in all soundness, and swiftly come back. Then kissed the king, he of noble kin gotten, 1870 The lord of the Scyldings, that best of the thanes, By the halse then he took him; from him fell the tears From the blended of hoar hair. Of both things was there hoping To the old, the old wise one; yet most of the other, To wit, that they sithence each each might be seeing, The high-heart in council. To him so lief was he That he his breast-welling might nowise forbear, But there in his bosom, bound fast in his heart-bonds, After that dear man a longing dim-hidden Burn'd against blood-tie. So Beowulf thenceforth, 1880 The gold-proud of warriors, trod the mould grassy, Exulting in gold-store. The sea-ganger bided Its owning-lord whereas at anchor it rode. Then was there in going the gift of King Hrothgar Oft highly accounted; yea, that was a king In every wise blameless, till eld took from him eftsoon The joyance of might, as it oft scathes a many.



XXVIII. BEOWULF COMES BACK TO HIS LAND. OF THE TALE OF THRYTHO.

Came a many to flood then all mighty of mood, Of the bachelors were they, and ring-nets they bore, The limb-sarks belocked. The land-warden noted 1890 The earls' aback-faring, as erst he beheld them; Then nowise with harm from the nose of the cliff The guests there he greeted, but rode unto themward, And quoth that full welcome to the folk of the Weders The bright-coated warriors were wending to ship. Then was on the sand there the bark the wide-sided With war-weed beladen, the ring-stemm'd as she lay there With mares and with treasure; uptower'd the mast High over Hrothgar's wealth of the hoards. He then to the boat-warden handsel'd a gold-bounden 1900 Sword, so that sithence was he on mead-bench Worthy'd the more for that very same wealth, The heirloom. Sithence in the ship he departed To stir the deep water; the Dane-land he left. Then was by the mast there one of the sea-rails, A sail, with rope made fast; thunder'd the sound-wood. Not there the wave-floater did the wind o'er the billows Waft off from its ways; the sea-wender fared, Floated the foamy-neck'd forth o'er the waves, The bounden-stemm'd over the streams of the sea; 1910 Till the cliffs of the Geats there they gat them to wit, The nesses well kenned. Throng'd up the keel then Driven hard by the lift, and stood on the land. Then speedy at holm was the hythe-warden yare, E'en he who a long while after the lief men Eager at stream's side far off had looked. To the sand thereon bound he the wide-fathom'd ship With anchor-bands fast, lest from them the waves' might The wood that was winsome should drive thence awayward. Thereon bade he upbear the athelings' treasures, 1920 The fretwork and wrought gold. Not far from them thenceforth To seek to the giver of treasures it was, E'en Hygelac, Hrethel's son, where at home wonneth Himself and his fellows hard by the sea-wall. Brave was the builded house, bold king the lord was, High were the walls, Hygd very young, Wise and well-thriven, though few of winters Under the burg-locks had she abided, The daughter of Haereth; naught was she dastard; Nowise niggard of gifts to the folk of the Geats, 1930 Of wealth of the treasures. But wrath Thrytho bore, The folk-queen the fierce, wrought the crime-deed full fearful. No one there durst it, the bold one, to dare, Of the comrades beloved, save only her lord, That on her by day with eyen he stare, But if to him death-bonds predestin'd he count on, Hand-wreathed; thereafter all rathely it was After the hand-grip the sword-blade appointed, That the cunning-wrought sword should show forth the deed, Make known the murder-bale. Naught is such queenlike 1940 For a woman to handle, though peerless she be, That a weaver of peace the life should waylay, For a shame that was lying, of a lief man of men; But the kinsman of Hemming, he hinder'd it surely. Yet the drinkers of ale otherwise said they; That folk-bales, which were lesser, she framed forsooth, Lesser enmity-malice, since thence erst she was Given gold-deck'd to the young one of champions, She the dear of her lineage, since Offa's floor Over the fallow flood by the lore of her father 1950 She sought in her wayfaring. Well was she sithence There on the man-throne mighty with good; Her shaping of life well brooked she living; High love she held toward the lord of the heroes; Of all kindred of men by the hearsay of me The best of all was he the twain seas beside, Of the measureless kindred; thereof Offa was For gifts and for war, the spear-keen of men, Full widely beworthy'd, with wisdom he held The land of his heritage. Thence awoke Eomaer 1960 For a help unto heroes, the kinsman of Hemming, The grandson of Garmund, the crafty in war-strife.



XXIX. BEOWULF TELLS HYGELAC OF HROTHGAR: ALSO OF FREAWARU HIS DAUGHTER.

Went his ways then the hard one, and he with his hand-shoal, Himself over the sand the sea-plain a-treading, The warths wide away; shone the world's candle, The sun slop'd from the southward; so dreed they their journey, And went their ways stoutly unto where the earls' refuge, The banesman of Ongentheow all in his burgs there, The young king of war, the good, as they heard it. Was dealing the rings. Aright unto Hygelac 1970 Was Beowulf's speeding made knowen full swiftly, That there into the house-place that hedge of the warriors, His mate of the linden-board, living was come, Hale from the battle-play home to him houseward. Then rathe was beroomed, as the rich one was bidding, For the guests a-foot going the floor all withinward. Then sat in the face of him he from the fight sav'd, Kinsman by kinsman, whenas his man-lord In fair-sounding speech had greeted the faithful With mightyful words. With mead-skinking turned 1980 Through the high house adown the daughter of Haereth: The people she loved: the wine-bucket bare she To the hands of the men. But now fell to Hygelac His very house-fellow in that hall the high To question full fairly, for wit-lust to-brake him, Of what like were the journeys the Sea-Geats had wended: How befell you the sea-lode, O Beowulf lief, When thou on a sudden bethoughtst thee afar Over the salt water the strife to be seeking, The battle in Hart? or for Hrothgar forsooth 1990 The wide-kenned woe some whit didst thou mend, For that mighty of lords? I therefore the mood-care In woe-wellings seethed; trow'd not in the wending Of thee the lief man. A long while did I pray thee That thou the death-guest there should greet not a whit; Wouldst let those same South-Danes their own selves to settle The war-tide with Grendel. Now to God say I thank That thee, and thee sound, now may I see. Out then spake Beowulf, Ecgtheow's bairn: All undark it is, O Hygelac lord, 2000 That meeting the mighty, to a many of men; Of what like was the meeting of Grendel and me On that field of the deed, where he many a deal For the Victory-Scyldings of sorrow had framed, And misery for ever; but all that I awreaked, So that needeth not boast any kinsman of Grendel Any one upon earth of that uproar of dawn-dusk, Nay not who lives longest of that kindred the loathly Encompass'd of fenland. Thither first did I come Unto that ring-hall Hrothgar to greet; 2010 Soon unto me the great Healfdene's son, So soon as my heart he was wotting forsooth. Right against his own son a settle there showed. All that throng was in joy, nor life-long saw I ever Under vault of the heavens amidst any hall-sitters More mirth of the mead. There the mighty Queen whiles, Peace-sib of the folk, went all over the floor, To the young sons bade heart up; oft she there the ring-wreath Gave unto a man ere to settle she wended. At whiles fore the doughty the daughter of Hrothgar 2020 To the earls at the end the ale-bucket bore; E'en she whom Freawaru the floor-sitters thereat Heard I to name; where she the nail'd treasure Gave to the warriors. She was behight then Youngling and gold-dight to the glad son of Froda. This hath seemed fair to the friend of the Scyldings, The herd of the realm, and good rede he accounts it, That he with that wife of death-feuds a deal And of strifes should allay. Oft unseldom eachwhere After a lord's fall e'en but for a little 2030 Bows down the bane-spear, though doughty the bride be.



XXX. BEOWULF FOREBODES ILL FROM THE WEDDING OF FREAWARU: HE TELLS OF GRENDEL AND HIS DAM.

Ill-liking this may be to the lord of the Heathobards, And to each of the thanes of that same people. When he with fair bride on the floor of hall wendeth, That the Dane's noble bairn his doughty should wait on, As on him glisten there the heirlooms of the aged, Hard and with rings bedight, Heathobards' treasure, Whileas the weapons yet they might wield; Till astray did they lead there at the lind-play Their own fellows belov'd and their very own lives. 2040 For then saith at the beer, he who seeth the ring, An ancient ash-warrior who mindeth of all The spear-death of men; grim is he of mind; Sad of mood he beginneth to tell the young champion. Through the thought of his heart his mind there to try, The war-bale to waken, and sayeth this word: Mayest thou, friend mine, wot of the war-sword, That which thy father bore in the fight Under the war-mask e'en on the last time, That the dear iron, whereas the Danes slew him, 2050 Wielded the death-field, since Withergyld lay, After fall of the heroes, the keen-hearted Scyldings? Now here of those banesmen the son, whoseso he be, All merry in fretwork forth on floor fareth; Of the murder he boasteth, and that jewel he beareth, E'en that which of right thou shouldest arede. Thus he mindeth and maketh word every of times, With sore words he telleth, until the time cometh That the thane of the fair bride for the deeds of his father After bite of the bill sleepeth all blood-stain'd, 2060 All forfeit of life; but thenceforth the other Escapeth alive; the land well he kenneth; Then will be broken on both sides forsooth The oath-swearing of earls, whenas unto Ingeld Well up the death-hatreds, and the wife-loves of him Because of the care-wellings cooler become. Therefore the Heathobards' faith I account not, Their deal of the folk-peace, unguileful to Danes, Their fast-bounden friendship. Henceforth must I speak on Again about Grendel, that thou get well to know it, 2070 O treasure-out-dealer, how sithence betided The hand-race of heroes: sithence heaven's gem All over the grounds glided, came the wroth guest, The dire night-angry one us to go look on, Whereas we all sound were warding the hall. There then for Handshoe was battle abiding, Life-bale to the fey; he first lay alow, The war-champion girded; unto him became Grendel, To the great thane of kindreds, a banesman of mouth, Of the man well-beloved the body he swallow'd; 2080 Nor the sooner therefor out empty-handed The bloody-tooth'd banesman, of bales all bemindful, Out from that gold-hall yet would he get him; But he, mighty of main, made trial of me, And gripp'd ready-handed. His glove hung aloft, Wondrous and wide, in wily bands fast, With cunning wiles was it begeared forsooth, With crafts of the devils and fells of the dragons; He me withinwards there, me the unsinning, The doer of big deeds would do me to be 2090 As one of the many; but naught so it might be, Sithence in mine anger upright I stood. 'Tis over-long telling how I to the folkscather For each one of evils out paid the hand-gild. There I, O my lord king, them thy leal people Worthy'd with works: but away he gat loosed Out thence for a little while, brooked yet life-joys; But his right hand held ward of his track howsoever, High upon Hart-hall, and thence away humble He sad of his mood to the mere-ground fell downward. 2100 Me for that slaughter-race the friend of the Scyldings With gold that beplated was mickle deal paid, With a many of treasures, sithence came the morning, And we to the feast-tide had sat us adown; Song was and glee there; the elder of Scyldings, Asking of many things, told of things o'erpast; Whiles hath the battle-deer there the harp's joy, The wood of mirth greeted; whiles the lay said he Soothfast and sorrowful; whiles a spell seldom told Told he by right, the king roomy-hearted; 2110 Whiles began afterward he by eld bounden, The aged hoar warrior, of his youth to bewail him, Its might of the battle; his breast well'd within him, When he, wont in winters, of many now minded. So we there withinward the livelong day's wearing Took pleasure amongst us, till came upon men Another of nights; then eftsoons again Was yare for the harm-wreak the mother of Grendel: All sorry she wended, for her son death had taken, The war-hate of the Weders: that monster of women 2120 Awreaked her bairn, and quelled a warrior In manner all mighty. Then was there from Aeschere, The wise man of old, life waning away; Nor him might they even when come was the morning, That death-weary wight, the folk of the Danes Burn up with the brand, nor lade on the bale The man well-belov'd, for his body she bare off In her fathom the fiendly all under the fell-stream. That was unto Hrothgar of sorrows the heaviest Of them which the folk-chieftain long had befallen. 2130 Then me did the lord king, and e'en by thy life, Mood-heavy beseech me that I in the holm-throng Should do after earlship, my life to adventure, And frame me main-greatness, and meed he behight me. Then I of the welling flood, which is well kenned, The grim and the grisly ground-herder did find. There to us for a while was the blending of hands; The holm welled with gore, and the head I becarved In that hall of the ground from the Mother of Grendel With the all-eked edges; unsoftly out thence 2140 My life forth I ferry'd, for not yet was I fey. But the earls' burg to me was giving thereafter Much sort of the treasures, e'en Healfdene's son.



XXXI. BEOWULF GIVES HROTHGAR'S GIFTS TO HYGELAC, AND BY HIM IS REWARDED. OF THE DEATH OF HYGELAC AND OF HEARDRED HIS SON, AND HOW BEOWULF IS KING OF THE GEATS: THE WORM IS FIRST TOLD OF.

So therewith the folk-king far'd, living full seemly; By those wages forsooth ne'er a whit had I lost, By the meed of my main, but to me treasure gave he, The Healfdene's son, to the doom of myself; Which to thee, king of bold ones, will I be a-bringing, And gladly will give thee; for of thee is all gotten Of favours along, and but little have I 2150 Of head-kinsmen forsooth, saving, Hygelac, thee. Then he bade them bear in the boar-shape, the head-sign, The battle-steep war-helm, the byrny all hoary, The sword stately-good, and spell after he said: This raiment of war Hrothgar gave to my hand, The wise of the kings, and therewithal bade me, That I first of all of his favour should flit thee; He quoth that first had it King Heorogar of old, The king of the Scyldings, a long while of time; But no sooner would he give it unto his son, 2160 Heoroward the well-whet, though kind to him were he, This weed of the breast. Do thou brook it full well. On these fretworks, so heard I, four horses therewith, All alike, close followed after the track, Steeds apple-fallow. Fair grace he gave him Of horses and treasures. E'en thus shall do kinsman, And nowise a wile-net shall weave for another With craft of the darkness, or do unto death His very hand-fellow. But now unto Hygelac The bold in the battle was his nephew full faithful, 2170 And either to other of good deeds was mindful. I heard that the neck-ring to Hygd did he give, E'en the wonder-gem well-wrought, that Wealh-theow gave him, The king's daughter; gave he three steeds therewithal Slender, and saddle-bright; sithence to her was, After the ring-gift, the breast well beworthy'd. Thus boldly he bore him, the Ecgtheow's bairn, The groom kenned in battle, in good deeds a-doing; After due doom he did, and ne'er slew he the drunken Hearth-fellows of him: naught rough was his heart; 2180 But of all men of mankind with the greatest of might The gift fully and fast set, which had God to him given, That war-deer did hold. Long was he contemned, While the bairns of the Geats naught told him for good, Nor him on the mead-bench worthy of mickle The lord of the war-hosts would be a-making. Weened they strongly that he were but slack then, An atheling unkeen; then came about change To the fame-happy man for every foul harm. Bade then the earls' burg in to be bringing, 2190 The king battle-famed, the leaving of Hrethel, All geared with gold; was not 'mid the Geats then A treasure-gem better of them of the sword-kind, That which then on Beowulf's harm there he laid; And gave to him there seven thousand in gift, A built house and king-stool; to both them together Was in that folkship land that was kindly, Father-right, home; to the other one rather A wide realm, to him who was there the better. But thereafter it went so in days later worn 2200 Through the din of the battle, sithence Hygelac lay low And unto Heardred swords of the battle Under the war-board were for a bane; When fell on him midst of this victory-folk The hard battle-wolves, the Scyldings of war, And by war overwhelmed the nephew of Hereric; That sithence unto Beowulf turned the broad realm All into his hand. Well then did he hold it For a fifty of winters; then was he an old king, An old fatherland's warder; until one began 2210 Through the dark of the night-tide, a drake, to hold sway. In a howe high aloft watched over an hoard, A stone-burg full steep; thereunder a path sty'd Unknown unto men, and therewithin wended Who of men do I know not; for his lust there took he, From the hoard of the heathen his hand took away A hall-bowl gem-flecked, nowise back did he give it Though the herd of the hoard him sleeping beguil'd he With thief-craft; and this then found out the king, The best of folk-heroes, that wrath-bollen was he. 2220



XXXII. HOW THE WORM CAME TO THE HOWE, AND HOW HE WAS ROBBED OF A CUP; AND HOW HE FELL ON THE FOLK.

Not at all with self-wielding the craft of the worm-hoards He sought of his own will, who sore himself harmed; But for threat of oppression a thrall, of I wot not Which bairn of mankind, from blows wrathful fled, House-needy forsooth, and hied him therein, A man by guilt troubled. Then soon it betided That therein to the guest there stood grisly terror; However the wretched, of every hope waning * * * * * The ill-shapen wight, whenas the fear gat him, The treasure-vat saw; of such there was a many 2230 Up in that earth-house of treasures of old, As them in the yore-days, though what man I know not, The huge leavings and loom of a kindred of high ones, Well thinking of thoughts there had hidden away. Dear treasures. But all them had death borne away In the times of erewhile; and the one at the last Of the doughty of that folk that there longest lived, There waxed he friend-sad, yet ween'd he to tarry, That he for a little those treasures the longsome Might brook for himself. But a burg now all ready 2240 Wonn'd on the plain nigh the waves of the water, New by a ness, by narrow-crafts fasten'd; Within there then bare of the treasures of earls That herd of the rings a deal hard to carry, Of gold fair beplated, and few words he quoth: Hold thou, O earth, now, since heroes may hold not, The owning of earls. What! it erst within thee Good men did get to them; now war-death hath gotten, Life-bale the fearful, each man and every Of my folk; e'en of them who forwent the life: 2250 The hall-joy had they seen. No man to wear sword I own, none to brighten the beaker beplated, The dear drink-vat; the doughty have sought to else-whither. Now shall the hard war-helm bedight with the gold Be bereft of its plating; its polishers sleep, They that the battle-mask erewhile should burnish: Likewise the war-byrny, which abode in the battle O'er break of the war-boards the bite of the irons, Crumbles after the warrior; nor may the ring'd byrny After the war-leader fare wide afield 2260 On behalf of the heroes: nor joy of the harp is, No game of the glee-wood; no goodly hawk now Through the hall swingeth; no more the swift horse Beateth the burg-stead. Now hath bale-quelling A many of life-kin forth away sent. Suchwise sad-moody moaned in sorrow One after all, unblithely bemoaning By day and by night, till the welling of death Touch'd at his heart. The old twilight-scather Found the hoard's joyance standing all open, 2270 E'en he that, burning, seeketh to burgs, The evil drake, naked, that flieth a night-tide, With fire encompass'd; of him the earth-dwellers Are strongly adrad; wont is he to seek to The hoard in the earth, where he the gold heathen Winter-old wardeth; nor a whit him it betters. So then the folk-scather for three hundred winters Held in the earth a one of hoard-houses All-eked of craft, until him there anger'd A man in his mood, who bare to his man-lord 2280 A beaker beplated, and bade him peace-warding Of his lord: then was lightly the hoard searched over, And the ring-hoard off borne; and the boon it was granted To that wretched-wrought man. There then the lord saw That work of men foregone the first time of times. Then awaken'd the Worm, and anew the strife was; Along the stone stank he, the stout-hearted found The foot-track of the foe; he had stept forth o'er-far With dark craft, over-nigh to the head of the drake. So may the man unfey full easily outlive 2290 The woe and the wrack-journey, he whom the Wielder's Own grace is holding. Now sought the hoard-warden Eager over the ground; for the groom he would find Who unto him sleeping had wrought out the sore: Hot and rough-moody oft he turn'd round the howe All on the outward; but never was any man On the waste; but however in war he rejoiced, In battle-work. Whiles he turn'd back to his howe And sought to his treasure-vat; soon he found this, That one of the grooms had proven the gold, 2300 The high treasures; then the hoard-warden abided, But hardly forsooth, until come was the even, And all anger-bollen was then the burg-warden, And full much would the loath one with the fire-flame pay back For his drink-vat the dear. Then day was departed E'en at will to the Worm, and within wall no longer Would he bide, but awayward with burning he fared, All dight with the fire: it was fearful beginning To the folk in the land, and all swiftly it fell 2310 On their giver of treasure full grievously ended.



XXXIII. THE WORM BURNS BEOWULF'S HOUSE, AND BEOWULF GETS READY TO GO AGAINST HIM. BEOWULF'S EARLY DEEDS IN BATTLE WITH THE HETWARE TOLD OF.

Began then the guest to spew forth of gleeds, The bright dwellings to burn; stood the beam of the burning For a mischief to menfolk; now nothing that quick was The loathly lift-flier would leave there forsooth; The war of the Worm was wide to be seen there, The narrowing foe's hatred anigh and afar, How he, the fight-scather, the folk of the Geats Hated and harm'd; shot he back to the hoard, His dark lordly hall, ere yet was the day's while; The land-dwellers had he in the light low encompass'd 2320 With bale and with brand; in his burg yet he trusted, His war-might and his wall: but his weening bewray'd him. Then Beowulf was done to wit of the terror Full swiftly forsooth, that the house of himself, Best of buildings, was molten in wellings of fire, The gift-stool of the Geats. To the good one was that A grief unto heart; of mind-sorrows the greatest. Weened the wise one, that Him, e'en the Wielder, The Lord everlasting, against the old rights He had bitterly anger'd; the breast boil'd within him 2330 With dark thoughts, that to him were naught duly wonted. Now had the fire-drake the own fastness of folk, The water-land outward, that ward of the earth, With gleeds to ground wasted; so therefore the war-king, The lord of the Weder-folk, learned him vengeance. Then he bade be work'd for him, that fence of the warriors, And that all of iron, the lord of the earls, A war-board all glorious, for wissed he yarely That the holt-wood hereto might help him no whit, The linden 'gainst fire-flame. Of fleeting days now 2340 The Atheling exceeding good end should abide, The end of the world's life, and the Worm with him also, Though long he had holden the weal of the hoard. Forsooth scorned then the lord of the rings That he that wide-flier with war-band should seek, With a wide host; he fear'd not that war for himself, Nor for himself the Worm's war accounted one whit, His might and his valour, for that he erst a many Strait-daring of battles had bided, and liv'd, Clashings huge of the battle, sithence he of Hrothgar, 2350 He, the man victory-happy, had cleansed the hall, And in war-tide had gripped the kindred of Grendel, The loathly of kindreds; nor was that the least Of hand-meetings, wherein erst was Hygelac slain, Sithence the Geats' king in the onrush of battle, The lord-friend of the folks, down away in the Frieslands, The offspring of Hrethel, died, drunken of sword-drinks, All beaten of bill. Thence Beowulf came forth By his own craft forsooth, dreed the work of the swimming; He had on his arm, he all alone, thirty 2360 Of war-gears, when he to the holm went adown. Then nowise the Hetware needed to joy them Over the foot-war, wherein forth against him They bore the war-linden: few went back again From that wolf of the battle to wend to their homes. O'erswam then the waters' round Ecgtheow's son, Came all wretched and byrd-alone back to his people, Whereas offer'd him Hygd then the kingdom and hoard, The rings and the king-stool: trowed naught in the child, That he 'gainst folks outland the fatherland-seats 2370 Might can how to hold, now was Hygelac dead: Yet no sooner therefor might the poor folk prevail To gain from the Atheling in any of ways That he unto Heardred would be for a lord, Or eke that that kingdom henceforward should choose; Yet him midst of the folk with friend-lore he held, All kindly with honour till older he waxed And wielded the Weder-Geats. To him men-waifs thereafter Sought from over the sea, the sons they of Ohthere, For they erst had withstood the helm of the Scylfings, 2380 E'en him that was best of the kings of the sea, Of them that in Swede-realm dealt out the treasure, The mighty of princes. Unto him 'twas a life-mark; To him without food there was fated the life-wound, That Hygelac's son, by the swinging of swords; And him back departed Ongentheow's bairn, To go seek to his house, sithence Heardred lay dead, And let Beowulf hold the high seat of the king And wield there the Geats. Yea, good was that king.



XXXIV. BEOWULF GOES AGAINST THE WORM. HE TELLS OF HEREBEALD AND HAETHCYN.

Of that fall of the folk-king he minded the payment 2390 In days that came after: unto Eadgils he was A friend to him wretched; with folk he upheld him Over the wide sea, that same son of Ohthere, With warriors and weapons. Sithence had he wreaking With cold journeys of care: from the king took he life. Now each one of hates thus had he outlived, And of perilous slaughters, that Ecgtheow's son, All works that be doughty, until that one day When he with the Worm should wend him to deal. So twelvesome he set forth all swollen with anger, 2400 The lord of the Geats, the drake to go look on. Aright had he learnt then whence risen the feud was, The bale-hate against men-folk: to his barm then had come The treasure-vat famous by the hand of the finder; He was in that troop of men the thirteenth Who the first of that battle had set upon foot, The thrall, the sad-minded; in shame must he thenceforth Wise the way to the plain; and against his will went he Thereunto, where the earth-hall the one there he wist, The howe under earth anigh the holm's welling, 2410 The wave-strife: there was it now full all within With gems and with wires; the monster, the warden, The yare war-wolf, he held him therein the hoard golden, The old under the earth: it was no easy cheaping To go and to gain for any of grooms. Sat then on the ness there the strife-hardy king While farewell he bade to his fellows of hearth, The gold-friend of the Geats; sad was gotten his soul, Wavering, death-minded; weird nigh beyond measure, Which him old of years gotten now needs must be greeting, 2420 Must seek his soul's hoard and asunder must deal His life from his body: no long while now was The life of the Atheling in flesh all bewounden. Now spake out Beowulf, Ecgtheow's bairn: Many a one in my youth of war-onsets I outliv'd, And the whiles of the battle: all that I remember. Seven winters had I when the wielder of treasures, The lord-friend of folk, from my father me took, Held me and had me Hrethel the king, Gave me treasure and feast, and remember'd the friendship. 2430 For life thence I was not to him a whit loather, A berne in his burgs than his bairns were, or each one, Herebeald, or Haethcyn, or Hygelac mine. For the eldest there was in unseemly wise By the mere deed of kinsman a murder-bed strawen, Whenas him did Haethcyn from out of his horn-bow, His lord and his friend, with shaft lay alow: His mark he miss'd shooting, and shot down his kinsman, One brother another with shaft all bebloody'd; That was fight feeless by fearful crime sinned, 2440 Soul-weary to heart, yet natheless then had The atheling from life all unwreak'd to be ceasing. So sad-like it is for a carle that is aged To be biding the while that his boy shall be riding Yet young on the gallows; then a lay should he utter, A sorrowful song whenas hangeth his son A gain unto ravens, and naught good of avail May he, old and exceeding old, anywise frame. Ever will he be minded on every each morning Of his son's faring otherwhere; nothing he heedeth 2450 Of abiding another withinward his burgs, An heritage-warder, then whenas the one By the very death's need hath found out the ill. Sorrow-careful he seeth within his son's bower The waste wine-hall, the resting-place now of the winds, All bereft of the revel; the riders are sleeping, The heroes in grave, and no voice of the harp is, No game in the garths such as erewhile was gotten.



XXXV. BEOWULF TELLS OF PAST FEUDS, AND BIDS FAREWELL TO HIS FELLOWS: HE FALLS ON THE WORM, AND THE BATTLE OF THEM BEGINS.

Then to sleeping-stead wendeth he, singeth he sorrow, The one for the other; o'er-roomy all seem'd him 2460 The meads and the wick-stead. So the helm of the Weders For Herebeald's sake the sorrow of heart All welling yet bore, and in nowise might he On the banesman of that life the feud be a-booting; Nor ever the sooner that warrior might hate With deeds loathly, though he to him nothing was lief. He then with the sorrow wherewith that sore beset him Man's joy-tide gave up, and chose him God's light. To his offspring he left, e'en as wealthy man doeth, His land and his folk-burgs when he from life wended. 2470 Then sin was and striving of Swedes and of Geats, Over the wide water war-tide in common, The hard horde-hate to wit sithence Hrethel perish'd; And to them ever were the Ongentheow's sons Doughty and host-whetting, nowise then would friendship Hold over the waters; but round about Hreosnaburgh The fierce fray of foeman was oftentimes fram'd. Kin of friends that mine were, there they awreaked The feud and the evil deed, e'en as was famed; Although he, the other, with his own life he bought it, 2480 A cheaping full hard: unto Haethcyn it was, To the lord of the Geat-folk, a life-fateful war. Learned I that the morrow one brother the other With the bills' edges wreaked the death on the banesman, Whereas Ongentheow is a-seeking of Eofor: Glode the war-helm asunder, the aged of Scylfings Fell, sword-bleak; e'en so remember'd the hand Feud enough; nor e'en then did the life-stroke withhold. I to him for the treasure which erewhile he gave me Repaid it in warring, as was to me granted, 2490 With my light-gleaming sword. To me gave he land, The hearth and the home-bliss: unto him was no need That unto the Gifthas or unto the Spear-Danes Or into the Swede-realm he needs must go seeking A worse wolf of war for a worth to be cheaping; For in the host ever would I be before him Alone in the fore-front, and so life-long shall I Be a-framing of strife, whileas tholeth the sword, Which early and late hath bestead me full often, Sithence was I by doughtiness unto Day-raven 2500 The hand-bane erst waxen, to the champion of Hug-folk; He nowise the fretwork to the king of the Frisians, The breast-worship to wit, might bring any more, But cringed in battle that herd of the banner, The Atheling in might: the edge naught was his bane, But for him did the war-grip the heart-wellings of him Break, the house of the bones. Now shall the bill's edge, The hand and hard sword, about the hoard battle. So word uttered Beowulf, spake out the boast word For the last while as now: Many wars dared I 2510 In the days of my youth, and now will I yet, The old warder of folk, seek to the feud, Full gloriously frame, if the scather of foul-deed From the hall of the earth me out shall be seeking. Greeted he then each one of the grooms, The keen wearers of helms, for the last while of whiles, His own fellows the dear: No sword would I fare with, No weapon against the Worm, wist I but how 'Gainst the monster of evil in otherwise might I Uphold me my boast, as erst did I with Grendel; 2520 But there fire of the war-tide full hot do I ween me, And the breath, and the venom; I shall bear on me therefore Both the board and the byrny; nor the burg's warden shall I Overflee for a foot's-breadth, but unto us twain It shall be at the wall as to us twain Weird willeth, The Maker of each man. Of mood am I eager; So that 'gainst that war-flier from boast I withhold me. Abide ye upon burg with your byrnies bewarded, Ye men in your battle-gear, which may the better After the slaughter-race save us from wounding 2530 Of the twain of us. Naught is it yours to take over, Nor the measure of any man save alone me, That he on the monster should mete out his might, Or work out the earlship: but I with my main might Shall gain me the gold, or else gets me the battle, The perilous life-bale, e'en me your own lord. Arose then by war-round the warrior renowned Hard under helm, and the sword-sark he bare Under the stone-cliffs: in the strength then he trowed Of one man alone; no dastard's way such is. 2540 Then he saw by the wall (e'en he, who so many, The good of man-bounties, of battles had out-liv'd, Of crashes of battle whenas hosts were blended) A stone-bow a-standing, and from out thence a stream Breaking forth from the burg; was that burn's outwelling All hot with the war-fire; and none nigh to the hoard then Might ever unburning any while bide, Live out through the deep for the flame of the drake. Out then from his breast, for as bollen as was he, Let the Weder-Geats' chief the words be out faring; 2550 The stout-hearted storm'd and the stave of him enter'd Battle-bright sounding in under the hoar stone. Then uproused was hate, and the hoard-warden wotted The speech of man's word, and no more while there was Friendship to fetch. Then forth came there first The breath of the evil beast out from the stone, The hot sweat of battle, and dinn'd then the earth. The warrior beneath the burg swung up his war-round Against that grisly guest, the lord of the Geats; Then the heart of the ring-bow'd grew eager therewith 2560 To seek to the strife. His sword ere had he drawn, That good lord of the battle, the leaving of old, The undull of edges: there was unto either Of the bale-minded ones the fear of the other. All steadfast of mind stood against his steep shield The lord of the friends, when the Worm was a-bowing Together all swiftly, in war-gear he bided; Then boune was the burning one, bow'd in his going, To the fate of him faring. The shield was well warding The life and the lyke of the mighty lord king 2570 For a lesser of whiles than his will would have had it, If he at that frist on the first of the day Was to wield him, as weird for him never will'd it, The high-day of battle. His hand he up braided, The lord of the Geats, and the grisly-fleck'd smote he With the leaving of Ing, in such wise that the edge fail'd, The brown blade on the bone, and less mightily bit Than the king of the nation had need in that stour, With troubles beset. But then the burg-warden After the war-swing all wood of his mood 2580 Cast forth the slaughter-flame, sprung thereon widely The battle-gleams: nowise of victory he boasted, The gold-friend of the Geats; his war-bill had falter'd, All naked in war, in such wise as it should not, The iron exceeding good. Naught was it easy For him there, the mighty-great offspring of Ecgtheow, That he now that earth-plain should give up for ever; But against his will needs must he dwell in the wick Of the otherwhere country; as ever must each man Let go of his loan-days. Not long was it thenceforth 2590 Ere the fell ones of fight fell together again. The hoard-warden up-hearten'd him, welled his breast With breathing anew. Then narrow need bore he, Encompass'd with fire, who erst the folk wielded; Nowise in a heap his hand-fellows there, The bairns of the athelings, stood all about him In valour of battle; but they to holt bow'd them; Their dear life they warded; but in one of them welled His soul with all sorrow. So sib-ship may never Turn aside any whit to the one that well thinketh. 2600



XXXVI. WIGLAF SON OF WEOHSTAN GOES TO THE HELP OF BEOWULF: NAEGLING, BEOWULF'S SWORD, IS BROKEN ON THE WORM.

Wiglaf so hight he, the son of Weohstan, Lief linden-warrior, and lord of Scylfings, The kinsman of Aelfhere: and he saw his man-lord Under his host-mask tholing the heat; He had mind of the honour that to him gave he erewhile. The wick-stead the wealthy of them, the Waegmundings, And the folk-rights each one which his father had owned. Then he might not withhold him, his hand gripp'd the round, Yellow linden; he tugg'd out withal the old sword, That was known among men for the heirloom of Eanmund, 2610 Ohthere's son, unto whom in the strife did become, To the exile unfriended, Weohstan for the bane With the sword-edge, and unto his kinsmen bare off The helm the brown-brindled, the byrny beringed, And the old eoten-sword that erst Onela gave him; Were they his kinsman's weed of the war, Host-fight-gear all ready. Of the feud nothing spake he. Though he of his brother the bairn had o'er-thrown. But the host-gear befretted he held many seasons, The bill and the byrny, until his own boy might 2620 Do him the earlship as did his ere-father. Amidst of the Geats then he gave him the war-weed Of all kinds unnumber'd, whenas he from life wended Old on the forth-way. Then was the first time For that champion the young that he the war-race With his high lord the famed e'er he should frame: Naught melted his mood, naught the loom of his kinsman Weaken'd in war-tide; that found out the Worm When they two together had gotten to come. Now spake out Wiglaf many words rightwise, 2630 And said to his fellows: all sad was his soul: I remember that while when we gat us the mead, And whenas we behight to the high lord of us In the beer-hall, e'en he who gave us these rings, That we for the war-gear one while would pay, If unto him thislike need e'er should befall, For these helms and hard swords. So he chose us from host To this faring of war by his very own will, Of glories he minded us, and gave me these gems here, Whereas us of gar-warriors he counted for good, 2640 And bold bearers of helms. Though our lord e'en for us This work of all might was of mind all alone Himself to be framing, the herd of the folk, Whereas most of all men he hath mightiness framed. Of deeds of all daring, yet now is the day come Whereon to our man-lord behoveth the main Of good battle-warriors; so thereunto wend we, And help we the host-chief, whiles that the heat be, The gleed-terror grim. Now of me wotteth God That to me is much liefer that that, my lyke-body, 2650 With my giver of gold the gleed should engrip. Unmeet it methinketh that we shields should bear Back unto our own home, unless we may erst The foe fell adown and the life-days defend Of the king of the Weders. Well wot I hereof That his old deserts naught such were, that he only Of all doughty of Geats the grief should be bearing. Sink at strife. Unto us shall one sword be, one helm, One byrny and shield, to both of us common. Through the slaughter-reek waded he then, bare his war-helm 2660 To the finding his lord, and few words he quoth: O Beowulf the dear, now do thee all well, As thou in thy youthful life quothest of yore, That naught wouldst thou let, while still thou wert living, Thy glory fade out. Now shalt thou of deeds famed, The atheling of single heart, with all thy main deal For the warding thy life, and to stay thee I will. Then after these words all wroth came the Worm, The dire guest foesome, that second of whiles With fire-wellings flecked, his foes to go look on, 2670 The loath men. With flame was lightly then burnt up The board to the boss, and might not the byrny To the warrior the young frame any help yet. But so the young man under shield of his kinsman Went onward with valour, whenas his own was All undone with gleeds; then again the war-king Remember'd his glories, and smote with mainmight With his battle-bill, so that it stood in the head Need-driven by war-hate. Then asunder burst Naegling, Waxed weak in the war-tide, e'en Beowulf's sword, 2680 The old and grey-marked; to him was not given That to him any whit might the edges of irons Be helpful in battle; over-strong was the hand Which every of swords, by the hearsay of me, With its swing over-wrought, when he bare unto strife A wondrous hard weapon; naught it was to him better. Then was the folk-scather for the third of times yet, The fierce fire-drake, all mindful of feud; He rac'd on that strong one, when was room to him given, Hot and battle-grim; he all the halse of him gripped 2690 With bitter-keen bones; all bebloody'd he waxed With the gore of his soul. Well'd in waves then the war-sweat.



XXXVII. THEY TWO SLAY THE WORM. BEOWULF IS WOUNDED DEADLY: HE BIDDETH WIGLAF BEAR OUT THE TREASURE.

Then heard I that at need of the high king of folk The upright earl made well manifest might, His craft and his keenness as kind was to him; The head there he heeded not (but the hand burned Of that man of high mood when he helped his kinsman), Whereas he now the hate-guest smote yet a deal nether, That warrior in war-gear, whereby the sword dived, The plated, of fair hue, and thereby fell the flame 2700 To minish thereafter, and once more the king's self Wielded his wit, and his slaying-sax drew out, The bitter and battle-sharp, borne on his byrny; Asunder the Weder's helm smote the Worm midmost; They felled the fiend, and force drave the life out, And they twain together had gotten him ending, Those athelings sib. E'en such should a man be, A thane good at need. Now that to the king was The last victory-while, by the deeds of himself, Of his work of the world. Sithence fell the wound, 2710 That the earth-drake to him had wrought but erewhile. To swell and to sweal; and this soon he found out, That down in the breast of him bale-evil welled, The venom withinward; then the Atheling wended, So that he by the wall, bethinking him wisdom. Sat on seat there and saw on the works of the giants, How that the stone-bows fast stood on pillars, The earth-house everlasting upheld withinward. Then with his hand him the sword-gory, That great king his thane, the good beyond measure, 2720 His friend-lord with water washed full well, The sated of battle, and unspanned his war-helm. Forth then spake Beowulf, and over his wound said, His wound piteous deadly; wist he full well, That now of his day-whiles all had he dreed, Of the joy of the earth; all was shaken asunder The tale of his days; death without measure nigh: Unto my son now should I be giving My gear of the battle, if to me it were granted Any ward of the heritage after my days 2730 To my body belonging. This folk have I holden Fifty winters; forsooth was never a folk-king Of the sitters around, no one of them soothly, Who me with the war-friends durst wend him to greet And bear down with the terror. In home have I abided The shapings of whiles, and held mine own well. No wily hates sought I; for myself swore not many Of oaths in unright. For all this may I, Sick with the life-wounds, soothly have joy. Therefore naught need wyte me the Wielder of men 2740 With kin murder-bale, when breaketh asunder My life from my lyke. And now lightly go thou To look on the hoard under the hoar stone, Wiglaf mine lief, now that lieth the Worm And sleepeth sore wounded, beshorn of his treasure; And be hasty that I now the wealth of old time, The gold-having may look on, and yarely behold The bright cunning gems, that the softlier may I After the treasure-weal let go away My life, and the folk-ship that long I have held. 2750



XXXVIII. BEOWULF BEHOLDETH THE TREASURE AND PASSETH AWAY.

Then heard I that swiftly the son of that Weohstan After this word-say his lord the sore wounded, Battle-sick, there obeyed, and bare forth his ring-net, His battle-sark woven, in under the burg-roof; Saw then victory-glad as by the seat went he, The kindred-thane moody, sun-jewels a many, Much glistering gold lying down on the ground, Many wonders on wall, and the den of the Worm, The old twilight-flier; there were flagons a-standing, The vats of men bygone, of brighteners bereft, 2760 And maim'd of adornment; was many an helm Rusty and old, and of arm-rings a many Full cunningly twined. All lightly may treasure, The gold in the ground, every one of mankind Befool with o'erweening, hide it who will. Likewise he saw standing a sign there all-golden High over the hoard, the most of hand-wonders, With limb-craft belocked, whence light a ray gleamed. Whereby the den's ground-plain gat he to look on, The fair works scan throughly. Not of the Worm there 2770 Was aught to be seen now, but the edge had undone him. Heard I then that in howe of the hoard was bereaving, The old work of the giants, but one man alone, Into his barm laded beakers and dishes At his very own doom; and the sign eke he took, The brightest of beacons. But the bill of the old lord (The edge was of iron) erewhile it scathed Him who of that treasure hand-bearer was A long while, and fared a-bearing the flame-dread Before the hoard hot, and welling of fierceness 2780 In the midnights, until that by murder he died. In haste was the messenger, eager of back-fare, Further'd with fretted gems. Him longing fordid To wot whether the bold man he quick there shall meet In that mead-stead, e'en he the king of the Weders, All sick of his might, whereas he erst Itft him. He fetching the treasure then found the king mighty, His own lord, yet there, and him ever all gory At end of his life; and he yet once again Fell the water to warp o'er him, till the word's point 2790 Brake through the breast-hoard, and Beowulf spake out. The aged, in grief as he gaz'd on the gold: Now I for these fretworks to the Lord of all thanking, To the King of all glory, in words am yet saying, To the Lord ever living, for that which I look on; Whereas such I might for the people of mine, Ere ever my death-day, get me to own. Now that for the treasure-hoard here have I sold My life and laid down the same, frame still then ever The folk-need, for here never longer I may be. 2800 So bid ye the war-mighty work me a howe Bright after the bale-fire at the sea's nose, Which for a remembrance to the people of me Aloft shall uplift him at Whale-ness for ever, That it the sea-goers sithence may hote Beowulf's Howe, e'en they that the high-ships Over the flood-mists drive from afar. Did off from his halse then a ring was all golden, The king the great-hearted, and gave to his thane, To the spear-warrior young his war-helm gold-brindled, 2810 The ring and the byrny, and bade him well brook them: Thou art the end-leaving of all of our kindred, The Waegmundings; Weird now hath swept all away Of my kinsmen, and unto the doom of the Maker The earls in their might; now after them shall I. That was to the aged lord youngest of words Of his breast-thoughts, ere ever he chose him the bale, The hot battle-wellings; from his heart now departed His soul, to seek out the doom of the soothfast.



XXXIX. WIGLAF CASTETH SHAME ON THOSE FLEERS.

But gone was it then with the unaged man 2820 Full hard that there he beheld on the earth The liefest of friends at the ending of life, Of bearing most piteous. And likewise lay his bane The Earth-drake, the loathly fear, reft of his life, By bale laid undone: the ring-hoards no longer The Worm, the crook-bowed, ever might wield; For soothly the edges of the irons him bare off, The hard battle-sharded leavings of hammers, So that the wide-flier stilled with wounding Fell onto earth anigh to his hoard-hall, 2830 Nor along the lift ever more playing he turned At middle-nights, proud of the owning of treasure, Show'd the face of him forth, but to earth there he fell Because of the host-leader's work of the hand. This forsooth on the land hath thriven to few, Of men might and main bearing, by hearsay of mine, Though in each of all deeds full daring he were, That against venom-scather's fell breathing he set on, Or the hall of his rings with hand be a-stirring, If so be that he waking the warder had found 2840 Abiding in burg. By Beowulf was His deal of the king-treasure paid for by death; There either had they fared on to the end Of this loaned life. Long it was not until Those laggards of battle the holt were a-leaving, Unwarlike troth-liars, the ten there together, Who durst not e'en now with darts to be playing E'en in their man-lord's most mickle need. But shamefully now their shields were they bearing, Their weed of the battle, there where lay the aged; 2850 They gazed on Wiglaf where weary'd he sat, The foot-champion, hard by his very lord's shoulder, And wak'd him with water: but no whit it sped him; Never might he on earth howsoe'er well he will'd it In that leader of spears hold the life any more, Nor the will of the Wielder change ever a whit; But still should God's doom of deeds rule the rede For each man of men, as yet ever it doth. Then from out of the youngling an answer full grim Easy got was for him who had lost heart erewhile, 2860 And word gave out Wiglaf, Weohstan's son The sorrowful-soul'd man: on those unlief he saw: Lo that may he say who sooth would be saying, That the man-lord who dealt you the gift of those dear things, The gear of the war-host wherein there ye stand, Whereas he on the ale-bench full oft was a-giving Unto the hall-sitters war-helm and byrny, The king to his thanes, e'en such as he choicest Anywhere, far or near, ever might find: That he utterly wrongsome those weeds of the war 2870 Had cast away, then when the war overtook him. Surely never the folk-king of his fellows in battle Had need to be boastful; howsoever God gave him, The Victory-wielder, that he himself wreaked him Alone with the edge, when to him need of might was. Unto him of life-warding but little might I Give there in the war-tide; and yet I began Above measure of my might my kinsman to help; Ever worse was the Worm then when I with sword Smote the life-foe, and ever the fire less strongly 2880 Welled out from his wit. Of warders o'er little Throng'd about the king when him the battle befell. Now shall taking of treasures and giving of swords And all joy of your country-home fail from your kindred, All hope wane away; of the land-right moreover May each of the men of that kinsman's burg ever Roam lacking; sithence that the athelings eft-soons From afar shall have heard of your faring in flight, Your gloryless deed. Yea, death shall be better For each of the earls than a life ever ill-fam'd. 2890



XL. WIGLAF SENDETH TIDING TO THE HOST: THE WORDS OF THE MESSENGER.

Then he bade them that war-work give out at the barriers Up over the sea-cliff, whereas then the earl-host The morning-long day sat sad of their mood, The bearers of war-boards, in weening of both things, Either the end-day, or else the back-coming Of the lief man. Forsooth he little was silent Of the new-fallen tidings who over the ness rode, But soothly he said over all there a-sitting: Now is the will-giver of the folk of the Weders, The lord of the Geats, fast laid in the death-bed, 2900 In the slaughter-rest wonneth he by the Worm's doings. And beside him yet lieth his very life-winner All sick with the sax-wounds; with sword might he never On the monster, the fell one, in any of manners Work wounding at all. There yet sitteth Wiglaf, Weohstan's own boy, over Beowulf king, One earl over the other, over him the unliving; With heart-honours holdeth he head-ward withal Over lief, over loath. But to folk is a weening Of war-tide as now, so soon as unhidden 2910 To Franks and to Frisians the fall of the king Is become over widely. Once was the strife shapen Hard 'gainst the Hugs, sithence Hygelac came Faring with float-host to Frisian land, Whereas him the Hetware vanquish'd in war, With might gat the gain, with o'er-mickle main; The warrior bebyrny'd he needs must bow down: He fell in the host, and no fretted war-gear Gave that lord to the doughty, but to us was aye sithence The mercy ungranted that was of the Merwing. 2920 Nor do I from the Swede folk of peace or good faith Ween ever a whit. For widely 'twas wotted That Ongentheow erst had undone the life Of Haethcyn the Hrethel's son hard by the Raven-wood, Then when in their pride the Scylfings of war Erst gat them to seek to the folk of the Geats. Unto him soon the old one, the father of Ohthere, The ancient and fearful gave back the hand-stroke, Brake up the sea-wise one, rescued his bride. The aged his spouse erst, bereft of the gold, 2930 Mother of Onela, yea and of Ohthere; And follow'd up thereon his foemen the deadly, Until they betook them and sorrowfully therewith Unto the Raven-holt, reft of their lord. With huge host then beset he the leaving of swords All weary with wounds, and woe he behight them, That lot of the wretched, the livelong night through; Quoth he that the morrow's morn with the swords' edges He would do them to death, hang some on the gallows For a game unto fowl. But again befell comfort 2940 To the sorry of mood with the morrow-day early; Whereas they of Hygelac's war-horn and trumpet The voice wotted, whenas the good king his ways came Faring on in the track of his folk's doughty men.



XLI. MORE WORDS OF THE MESSENGER. HOW HE FEARS THE SWEDES WHEN THEY WOT OF BEOWULF DEAD.

Was the track of the war-sweat of Swedes and of Geats, The men's slaughter-race, right wide to be seen, How those folks amongst them were waking the feud. Departed that good one, and went with his fellows, Old and exceeding sad, fastness to seek; The earl Ongentheow upward returned; 2950 Of Hygelac's battle-might oft had he heard, The war-craft of the proud one; in withstanding he trow'd not, That he to the sea-folk in fight might debate, Or against the sea-farers defend him his hoard, His bairns and his bride. He bow'd him aback thence, The old under the earth-wall. Then was the chase bidden To the Swede-folk, and Hygelac's sign was upreared, And the plain of the peace forth on o'er-pass'd they, After the Hrethlings onto the hedge throng'd. There then was Ongentheow by the swords' edges, 2960 The blent-hair'd, the hoary one, driven to biding, So that the folk-king fain must he take Sole doom of Eofor. Him in his wrath then Wulf the Wonreding reach'd with his weapon, So that from the stroke sprang the war-sweat in streams Forth from under his hair; yet naught fearsome was he, The aged, the Scylfing, but paid aback rathely With chaffer that worse was that war-crash of slaughter, Sithence the folk-king turned him thither; And nowise might the brisk one that son was of Wonred 2970 Unto the old carle give back the hand-slaying, For that he on Wulf's head the helm erst had sheared, So that all with the blood stained needs must he bow, And fell on the field; but not yet was he fey, But he warp'd himself up, though the wound had touch'd nigh. But thereon the hard Hygelac's thane there, Whenas down lay his brother, let the broad blade, The old sword of eotens, that helm giant-fashion'd Break over the board-wall, and down the king bowed, The herd of the folk unto fair life was smitten. 2980 There were many about there who bound up his kinsman, Upraised him swiftly when room there was made them, That the slaughter-stead there at the stour they might wield, That while when was reaving one warrior the other: From Ongentheow took he the iron-wrought byrny, The hard-hilted sword, with his helm all together: The hoary one's harness to Hygelac bare he; The fret war-gear then took he, and fairly behight him Before the folk due gifts, and even so did it; Gild he gave for that war-race, the lord of the Geats, 2990 The own son of Hrethel, when home was he come, To Eofor and Wulf gave he over-much treasure, To them either he gave an hundred of thousands, Land and lock'd rings. Of the gift none needed to wyte him Of mid earth, since the glory they gained by battle. Then to Eofor he gave his one only daughter, An home-worship soothly, for pledge of his good will. That is the feud and the foeship full soothly, The dead-hate of men, e'en as I have a weening, Wherefor the Swede people against us shall seek, 3000 Sithence they have learned that lieth our lord All lifeless; e'en he that erewhile hath held Against all the haters the hoard and the realm; Who after the heroes' fall held the fierce Scylfings, Framed the folk-rede, and further thereto Did earlship-deeds. Now is haste best of all That we now the folk-king should fare to be seeing, And then that we bring him who gave us the rings On his way to the bale: nor shall somewhat alone With the moody be molten; but manifold hoard is, 3010 Gold untold of by tale that grimly is cheapened, And now at the last by this one's own life Are rings bought, and all these the brand now shall fret, The flame thatch them over: no earl shall bear off One gem in remembrance; nor any fair maiden Shall have on her halse a ring-honour thereof, But in grief of mood henceforth, bereaved of gold, Shall oft, and not once alone, alien earth tread, Now that the host-learn'd hath laid aside laughter, The game and the glee-joy. Therefore shall the spear, 3020 Full many a morn-cold, of hands be bewounden, Uphoven in hand; and no swough of the harp Shall waken the warriors; but the wan raven rather Fain over the fey many tales shall tell forth, And say to the erne how it sped him at eating, While he with the wolf was a-spoiling the slain. So was the keen-whetted a-saying this while Spells of speech loathly; he lied not much Of weirds or of words. Then uprose all the war-band, And unblithe they wended under the Ernes-ness, 3030 All welling of tears, the wonder to look on. Found they then on the sand, now lacking of soul, Holding his bed, him that gave them the rings In time erewhile gone by. But then was the end-day Gone for the good one; since the king of the battle, The lord of the Weders, in wonder-death died. But erst there they saw a more seldom-seen sight, The Worm on the lea-land over against him Down lying there loathly; there was the fire-drake, The grim of the terrors, with gleeds all beswealed. 3040 He was of fifty feet of his measure Long of his lying. Lift-joyance held he In the whiles of the night, but down again wended To visit his den. Now fast was he in death, He had of the earth-dens the last end enjoyed. There by him now stood the beakers and bowls, There lay the dishes and dearly-wrought swords, Rusty, through-eaten they, as in earth's bosom A thousand of winters there they had wonned. For that heritage there was, all craftily eked, 3050 Gold of the yore men, in wizardry wounden; So that that ring-hall might none reach thereto, Not any of mankind but if God his own self, Sooth king of victories, gave unto whom he would (He is holder of men) to open that hoard, E'en to whichso of mankind should seem to him meet.



XLII. THEY GO TO LOOK ON THE FIELD OF DEED.

Then it was to be seen that throve not the way To him that unrightly had hidden within there The fair gear 'neath the wall. The warder erst slew Some few of folk, and the feud then became 3060 Wrothfully wreaked. A wonder whenas A valour-strong earl may reach on the ending Of the fashion of life, when he longer in nowise One man with his kinsmen may dwell in the mead-hall! So to Beowulf was it when the burg's ward he sought. For the hate of the weapons: he himself knew not Wherethrough forsooth his world's sundering should be. So until Doomsday they cursed it deeply, Those princes the dread, who erst there had done it, That that man should be of sins never sackless, 3070 A-hoppled in shrines, in hell-bonds fast set, With plague-spots be punish'd, who that plain should plunder. But naught gold-greedy was he, more gladly had he The grace of the Owner erst gotten to see. Now spake out Wiglaf, that son was of Weohstan: Oft shall many an earl for the will but of one Dree the wrack, as to us even now is befallen: Nowise might we learn the lief lord of us, The herd of the realm, any of rede, That he should not go greet that warder of gold, 3080 But let him live yet, whereas long he was lying, And wonne in his wicks until the world's ending; But he held to high weird and the hoard hath been seen, Grimly gotten: o'er hard forsooth was that giving, That the king of the folk e'en thither enticed. Lo! I was therein, and I look'd it all over, The gear of the house, when for me room was gotten, But I lightly in nowise had leave for the passage In under the earth-wall; in haste I gat hold Forsooth with my hands of a mickle main burden 3090 Of hoard-treasures, and hither then out did I bear them, Out unto my king, and then quick was he yet, Wise, and wit-holding: a many things spake he, That aged in grief-care, and bade me to greet you, And prayed ye would do e'en after your friend's deeds Aloft in the bale-stead a howe builded high, Most mickle and mighty, as he amongst men was The worthfullest warrior wide over the world, While he the burg-weal erewhile might brook. Then so let us hasten this second of whiles 3100 To see and to seek the throng of things strange, The wonder 'neath wall; I shall wise you the way, So that ye from a-near may look on enough Of rings and broad gold; and be the bier swiftly All yare thereunto, whenas out we shall fare. Then let us so ferry the lord that was ours, The lief man of men, to where long shall he In the All-Wielder's keeping full patiently wait. Bade then to bid the bairn of that Weohstan, The deer of the battle, to a many of warriors, 3110 The house-owning wights, that the wood of the bale They should ferry from far, e'en the folk-owning men, Toward the good one. And now shall the gleed fret away, The wan flame a-waxing, the strong one of warriors, Him who oft-times abided the shower of iron When the storm of the shafts driven on by the strings Shook over the shield-wall, and the shaft held its service, And eager with feather-gear follow'd the barb. Now then the wise one, that son was of Weohstan, Forth from the throng then call'd of the king's thanes 3120 A seven together, the best to be gotten, And himself went the eighth in under the foe-roof; One man of the battlers in hand there he bare A gleam of the fire, of the first went he inward. It was nowise allotted who that hoard should despoil, Sithence without warden some deal that there was The men now beheld in the hall there a-wonning, Lying there fleeting; little mourn'd any, That they in all haste outward should ferry The dear treasures. But forthwith the drake did they shove, 3130 The Worm, o'er the cliff-wall, and let the wave take him, The flood fathom about the fretted works' herd. There then was wounden gold on the wain laden Untold of each kind, and the Atheling borne, The hoary of warriors, out on to Whale-ness.



XLIII. OF THE BURIAL OF BEOWULF.

For him then they geared, the folk of the Geats, A pile on the earth all unweaklike that was, With war-helms behung, and with boards of the battle, And bright byrnies, e'en after the boon that he bade. Laid down then amidmost their king mighty-famous 3140 The warriors lamenting, the lief lord of them. Began on the burg of bale-fires the biggest The warriors to waken: the wood-reek went up Swart over the smoky glow, sound of the flame Bewound with the weeping (the wind-blending stilled), Until it at last the bone-house had broken Hot at the heart. All unglad of mind With mood-care they mourned their own liege lord's quelling. Likewise a sad lay the wife of aforetime For Beowulf the king, with her hair all upbounden, 3150 Sang sorrow-careful; said oft and over That harm-days for herself in hard wise she dreaded, The slaughter-falls many, much fear of the warrior, The shaming and bondage. Heaven swallow'd the reek. Wrought there and fashion'd the folk of the Weders A howe on the lithe, that high was and broad. Unto the wave-farers wide to be seen: Then it they betimber'd in time of ten days, The battle-strong's beacon; the brands' very-leavings They bewrought with a wall in the worthiest of ways, 3160 That men of all wisdom might find how to work. Into burg then they did the rings and bright sun-gems, And all such adornments as in the hoard there The war-minded men had taken e'en now; The earls' treasures let they the earth to be holding, Gold in the grit, wherein yet it liveth, As useless to men-folk as ever it erst was. Then round the howe rode the deer of the battle, The bairns of the athelings, twelve were they in all. Their care would they mourn, and bemoan them their king, 3170 The word-lay would they utter and over the man speak: They accounted his earlship and mighty deeds done, And doughtily deem'd them; as due as it is That each one his friend-lord with words should belaud, And love in his heart, whenas forth shall he Away from the body be fleeting at last. In such wise they grieved, the folk of the Geats, For the fall of their lord, e'en they his hearth-fellows; Quoth they that he was a world-king forsooth, The mildest of all men, unto men kindest, 3180 To his folk the most gentlest, most yearning of fame.



PERSONS AND PLACES

(Numbers refer to Pages)

[Transcriber's Note: In this and the following section, page numbers in parentheses are accompanied by a line reference in brackets.]

BEANSTAN, father of Breca (31 [524]).

Beowulf the Dane (not Beowulf the Geat, the hero of the poem) was the grandfather of Hrothgar (2, 4 [18, 53]).

Beowulf the Geat. See the Argument.

Breca (30 [506]), who contended with Beowulf in swimming, was a chief of the Brondings (31 [521]).

Brisings' neck-gear (70 [1199]). "This necklace is the Brisinga-men, the costly necklace of Freyja, which she won from the dwarfs and which was stolen from her by Loki, as is told in the Edda" (Kemble). In our poem, it is said that Hama carried off this necklace when he fled from Eormenric, king of the Ostrogoths.

DAYRAVEN (143 [2500]), a brave warrior of the Hugs, and probably the slayer of Hygelac, whom, in that case, Beowulf avenged.

EADGILS, Eanmund (136, 137 [2379, 2391]), "sons of Ohthere," and nephews of the Swedish King Onela, by whom they were banished from their native land for rebellion. They took refuge at the court of the Geat King Heardred, and Onela, "Ongentheow's bairn," enraged at their finding an asylum with his hereditary foes, invaded Geatland, and slew Heardred. At a later time Beowulf, when king of the Geats, balanced the feud by supporting Eadgils in an invasion of Sweden, in which King Onela was slain.

Eanmund (149 [2610]), while in exile at the court of the Geats, was slain by Weohstan, father of Wiglaf, and stripped of the armour given him by his uncle, the Swedish King Onela. Weohstan "spake not about the feud, although he had slain Onela's brother's son," probably because he was not proud of having slain an "exile unfriended" in a private quarrel.

Ecglaf, father of Unferth, Hrothgar's spokesman (29 [499]).

Ecgtheow (22 [373]), father of Beowulf the Geat, by the only daughter of Hrethel, king of the Geats. Having slain Heatholaf, a warrior of the Wylfings, Ecgtheow sought protection at the court of the Danish King Hrothgar, who accepted his fealty and settled the feud by a money-payment (27 [463]). Hence the heartiness of Beowulf's welcome at Hrothgar's hands.

Ecgwela. The Scyldings or Danes are once called "Ecgwela's offspring" (99 [1710]). He may have been the founder of the older dynasty of Danish kings which ended with Heremod.

Eofor (142, 167-9 [2485, 2963-2996]), a Geat warrior, brother of Wulf. He came to the aid of his brother in his single combat with the Swedish King Ongentheow, and slew the king, being rewarded by Hygelac with the hand of his only daughter.

Eotens (61, 62, 66 [1072, 1088, 1141]) are the people of Finn, king of Friesland. In other passages, it is merely a name for a race of monsters.

FINN (61-7 [1068-1156]). The somewhat obscure Finn episode in Beowulf appears to be part of a Finn epic, of which only the merest fragment, called the Fight at Finnsburg, is extant. The following conjectured outline of the whole story is based on this fragment and on the Beowulf episode; Finn, king of the Frisians, had carried off Hildeburh, daughter of Hoc, probably with her consent. Her father, Hoc, seems to have pursued the fugitives, and to have been slain in the fight which ensued on his overtaking them. After the lapse of some twenty years Hoc's sons, Hnaef and Hengest, are old enough to undertake the duty of avenging their father's death. They make an inroad into Finn's country, and a battle takes place in which many warriors, among them Hnaef and a son of Finn, are killed. Peace is then solemnly concluded, and the slain warriors are burnt. As the year is too far advanced for Hengest to return home, he and those of his men who survive remain for the winter in the Frisian country with Finn. But Hengest's thoughts dwell constantly on the death of his brother Hnaef, and he would gladly welcome any excuse to break the peace which had been sworn by both parties. His ill-concealed desire for revenge is noticed by the Frisians, who anticipate it by themselves attacking Hengest and his men whilst they are sleeping in the hall. This is the night attack described in the Fight at Finnsburg. It would seem that after a brave and desperate resistance Hengest himself falls in this fight at the hands of the son of Hunlaf (66 [1143]), but two of his retainers, Guthlaf and Oslaf, succeed in cutting their way through their enemies and in escaping to their own land. They return with fresh troops, attack and slay Finn, and carry his queen Hildeburh back to the Daneland.

Folkwalda (62 [1089]), father of Finn.

Franks (70, 165 [1210, 2911]). Hygelac, king of the Geats, was defeated and slain early in the sixth century, in his historical invasion of the Netherlands, by a combined army of Frisians, Franks, and Hugs.

Freawaru (116 [2022]), daughter of Hrothgar and Wealhtheow. Beowulf tells Hygelac that her father has betrothed her to Ingeld, prince of the Heathobards, in the hope of settling the feud between the two peoples. But he prophesies that the hope will prove vain: for an old Heathobard warrior, seeing a Danish chieftain accompany Freawaru to their court laden with Heathobard spoils, will incite the son of the former owner of the plundered treasure to revenge, until blood is shed, and the feud is renewed. That this was what afterwards befell, we learn from the Old English poem Widsith. See also ll. 83-5.

Friesland (65 [1126]), the land of the North Frisians.

Frieslands (135 [2356]), Frisian land (165 [2914]), the home of the West Frisians.

Frisians. Two tribes are to be distinguished: 1. The North Frisians (61, 63 [1070, 1093]), the people of Finn. 2. The West Frisians (143, 165 [2502, 2911]), who combined with the Franks and Hugs and defeated Hygelac, between 512 and 520 A.D.

Froda (117 [2025]), father of Ingeld. See Freawaru.

GUTHLAF and Oslaf (66 [1148]). See Finn.

HAERETH (112, 114 [1929, 1981]), father of Hygd, wife of Hygelac.

Haethcyn (139, 142, 165 [2433, 2481, 2924]), second son of Hrethel, king of the Geats, and thus elder brother of Hygelac. He accidentally killed his elder brother Herebeald with a bow-shot, to the inconsolable grief of Hrethel. He succeeded to the throne at his father's death, but fell in battle at Ravenwood (165 [2924]) by the hand of the Swedish King Ongentheow.

Half-Danes (61 [1069]), the tribe to which Hnaef belongs. See Finn.

Hama (69 [1198]). See Brisings.

Healfdene (4 [57]), king of the Danes, son of Beowulf the Scylding, and father of Hrothgar, "Healfdene's son" (16 [268]).

Heardred (126, 136-7 [2202, 2374-2387]), son of Hygelac and Hygd. While still under age he succeeds his father as king of the Geats, Beowulf, who has refused the throne himself, being his counsellor and protector. He is slain by "Ongentheow's bairn" (137 [2386]), Onela, king of the Swedes.

Heathobards, Lombards, the tribe of Ingeld, the betrothed of Freawaru, Hrothgar's daughter (117 [2032]).

Heatholaf (27 [460]). See Ecgtheow.

Helmings. "The Dame of the Helmings" (36 [620]) is Hrothgar's queen, Wealhtheow.

Hemming. "The Kinsman of Hemming" is a name for Offa (112 [1944]) and for his son Eomaer (113 [1961]).

Hengest (62-5 [1083-1127]). See Finn.

Heorogar (5 [61]), elder brother of Hrothgar (27 [467]), did not leave his armour to his son Heoroward (124 [2158]); but Hrothgar gives it to Beowulf, and Beowulf gives it to Hygelac.

Herebeald (139, 141 [2433, 2462]), eldest son of the Geat King Hrethel, was accidentally shot dead with an arrow by his brother Haethcyn.

Heremod (53, 99 [915, 1709]) is twice spoken of as a bad and cruel Danish king. In the end he is betrayed into the hands of his foes.

Hereric may have been brother of Hygd, Hygelac's queen, for their son Heardred is spoken of as "the nephew of Hereric" (126 [2206]).

Here-Scyldings (64 [1108]), Army-Scyldings, a name of the Danes.

Hetware (135, 165 [2362, 2915]), the Hattuarii of the Historia Francorum of Gregory of Tours and of the Gesta Regum Francorum, were the tribe against which Hygelac was raiding when he was defeated and slain by an army of Frisians, Franks, and Hugs.

Hildeburh (61, 64 [1071, 1114]). See Finn.

Hnaef (61, 64 [1069, 1114]). See Finn.

Hoc (62 [1076]). See Finn.

Hrethel, a former king of the Geats; son of Swerting (70 [1202]), father of Hygelac and grandfather of Beowulf (22 [374]), to whom he left his coat of mail (26 [454]). He died of grief at the loss of his eldest son Herebeald (139-42) [2429-2473], who was accidentally slain by his brother Haethcyn.

[Transcriber's Note: Page 70 [l. 1202] text reads "Hygelac ... grandson of Swerting." Hrethel is not named.]

Hrethlings (167 [2959]), the people of Hrethel, the Geats.

Hrethmen (26 [445]), Triumph-men, the Danes.

Hrethric (69, 106 [1189, 1836]), elder son of Hrothgar and Wealhtheow.

Hrothgar. See the Argument.

Hrothulf (59, 68 [1017, 1181]), probably the son of Hrothgar's younger brother Halga (5 [61]). He lives at the Danish court. Wealhtheow hopes that, if he survives Hrothgar, he will be good to their children in return for their kindness to him. It would seem that this hope was not to be fulfilled ("yet of kindred unsunder'd," 67 [1164]).

Hygd, daughter of Haereth, wife of Hygelac, the king of the Geats, and mother of Heardred. She may well be "the wife of aforetime" (177 [3149]).

Hygelac, third son of Hrethel (139 [2433]) and uncle to Beowulf, is the reigning king of the Geats during the greater part of the action of the poem. When his brother Haethcyn was defeated and slain by Ongentheow at Ravenwood (165 [2923]), Hygelac quickly went in pursuit and put Ongentheow to flight; but although, as leader of the attack, he is called "the banesman of Ongentheow" (114 [1986]), the actual slayer was Eofor (142, 167 [2485, 2963]), whom Hygelac rewarded with the hand of his only daughter (169 [2996]). Hygelac came by his death between 512 and 520 A.D., in his historical invasion of the Netherlands, which is referred to in the poem four times (70, 135, 143, 165 [1207, 2356, 2502, 2911]).

ING (147 [2576]). See Ingwines.

Ingeld (119 [2064]). See Freawaru.

Ingwines (60, 77 [1044, 1319]), "friends of Ing," the Danes. Ing, according to the Old English Rune-Poem, "was first seen by men amid the East Danes"; he has been identified with Frea.

MERWING, The (165 [2920]), the Merovingian king of the Franks.

OFFA (113 [1949]). See Thrytho.

Ohthere (136-7, 165 [2379-2393, 2927]), son of the Swedish King Ongentheow, and father of Eanmund and Eadgils (q.v.).

Onela, "Ongentheow's bairn" (137 [2386]) and elder brother of Ohthere, is king of Sweden ("the helm of the Scylfings," 136 [2380]) at the time of the rebellion of Eanmund and Eadgils. He invades the land of the Geats, which has harboured the rebels, slays Heardred, son of Hygelac, and then retreats before Beowulf. At a later time Beowulf avenges the death of Heardred by supporting Eadgils, "son of Ohthere" (137 [2393]), in an invasion of Sweden, in which Onela is slain. See also Eadgils; and compare the slaying of Ali by Athils on the ice of Lake Wener in the Icelandic "Heimskringla."

Ongentheow, father of Onela and Ohthere, was a former king of the Swedes. The earlier strife between the Swedes and the Geats, in which he is the chief figure, is fully related by the messenger (164 [2891]) who brings the tidings of Beowulf's death. In retaliation for the marauding invasions of Onela and Ohthere (142 [2474]), Haethcyn invaded Sweden, and took Ongentheow's queen prisoner. Ongentheow in return invaded the land of her captor, whom he slew, and rescued his wife (165 [2923]); but in his hour of triumph he was attacked in his turn by Hygelac near Ravenwood, and fell by the hand of Eofor (168 [2960]).

SCANEY (97 [1686]), Scede-lands (2 [19]), the most southern portion of the Scandinavian peninsula, belonging to the Danes; used in our poem for the whole Danish kingdom.

Scyld (1 [4]), son of Sheaf, was the mythical founder of the royal Danish dynasty of Scyldings.

Scyldings, descendants of Scyld, properly the name of the reigning Danish dynasty, is commonly extended to include the Danish people (3 [30]).

Scylfing: "the Scylfing" (167 [2967]), "the aged of Scylfings" (142 [2486]), is Ongentheow.

Scylfings (136 [2380]), the name of the reigning Swedish dynasty, was extended to the Swedish people in the same way as "Scyldings" to the Danes. Beowulf's kinsman Wiglaf is called "lord of Scylfings" (149 [2601]), and in another passage the name is apparently applied to the Geats (170 [3004]); this seems to point to a common ancestry of Swedes and Geats, or it may be that Beowulf's father Ecgtheow was a "Scylfing."

THRYTHO (112 [1931]), wife of the Angle King Offa and mother of Eomaer, is mentioned in contrast to Hygd, just as Heremod is a foil to Beowulf. She is at first the type of a cruel, unwomanly queen. But by her marriage with Offa, who seems to be her second husband, she is subdued and changed until her fame even adds glory to his.

UNFERTH, son of Ecglaf, is the spokesman of Hrothgar, at whose feet he sits. He is of a jealous disposition, and is twice spoken of as the murderer of his own brothers (34, 67 [587, 1165]). Taunting Beowulf with defeat in his swimming-match with Breca, he is silenced by the hero's reply, and more effectually still by the issue of the struggle with Grendel (57 [980]). Afterwards, however, he lends his sword Hrunting for Beowulf's encounter with Grendel's mother (85, 104 [1465, 1808]).

WAEGMUNDINGS (149, 160 [2605, 2803]), the family to which both Beowulf and Wiglaf belong. Their fathers, Ecgtheow and Weohstan, may have been sons of Waegmund.

Wedermark (17 [298]), the land of the Weder-Geats, i.e. the Geats.

Weders, Weder-Geats (13, 86, 122 [225, 1492, 2120]), Geats.

Weland (26 [455]), the Voelund of the Edda, the famous smith of Teutonic legend, was the maker of Beowulf's coat of mail. See the figured casket in the British Museum; and compare "Wayland Smith's Cave" near the White Horse, in Berkshire.

Weohstan was the father of Beowulf's kinsman and faithful henchman Wiglaf, and the slayer of Eanmund (149 [2601]).

Wonred, father of "Wulf the Wonreding" (167 [2964]), and of Eofor.

Wulf (167 [2964]). See Eofor.

Wulfgar, "a lord of the Wendels" (20 [348]), is an official of Hrothgar's court, where he is the first to greet Beowulf and his Geats, and introduces them to Hrothgar.

Wythergyld (118 [2051]) is a warrior of the Heathobards.



THE MEANING OF SOME WORDS NOT COMMONLY USED NOW

(Numbers refer to Pages)

[Transcriber's Note: In this and the previous section, page numbers in parentheses are accompanied by a line reference in brackets.]

A-banning, the work was (5) [74], orders for the work were given. Arede (119) [2056], possess. Atheling, prince, noble, noble warrior.

Barm, lap, bosom. Behalsed (5 [63]), embraced by the neck. Berne, man, warrior, hero. Bestead (143 [2499]), served. Beswealed, scorched, burnt. Beswinked, sweated. Birlers, cup-bearers. Board, shield. Bode, announce. Bollen, swollen, angry. Boot (9 [158]), compensation. Boun (18 [301]), made ready. Braided (147 [2574]), drew, lifted. Brim, sea. Brook, use, enjoy. Burg, fortified place, stronghold, mount, barrow; protection; protector; family (163 [2886]). Byrny, coat of mail.

Devil-dray, nest of devils. Cf. squirrel's-dray, common in Berks; used by Cowper. Dreary, bloody. Dree, do, accomplish, suffer, enjoy, spend (155 [2725]).

Ealdor, chief, lord. Eme, uncle. Eoten, giant, monster, enemy.

Fathom, embrace. Feeless, not to be atoned for with money. Ferry, bring, carry. Fifel, monster. Flyting, contending, scolding. Fold, the earth. Forheed, disregard. Forwritten, proscribed. Frist, space of time, delay.

Gar, spear. Graithly, readily, well.

Halse, neck. Hand-shoal, band of warriors. Hery, praise. Hild-play, battle. Holm, ocean, sea. Holm-throng, eddy of the sea. Holt, wood. Hote, call. Howe, mound, burial-mound. Hythe, ferry, haven.

Kemp, champion, fighter.

Lithe, slope. Loom, heirloom. Low (133 [2320]), flame. Lyke, body.

Moody, brave, proud.

Nicors, sea-monsters. Nithing (12 [193]), spite, malice.

O'erthinking, overweening, arrogance.

Rail, railings, coat, armour. Rimed, counted, reckoned.

THE END