Swimming monsters swarmed about him, Dented his mail with dreadful tusks. Sudden the warrior was 'ware they had come To a sea-hall strange and seeming hostile, Where water was not nor waves oppressed, For the caverned rock all round kept back The swallowing sea. He saw a light, A flicker of flame that flashed and shone. Now first he discerned the sea-hag monstrous, The water-wife wolfish. His weapon he raised, And struck with his sword a swinging blow. Sang on her head the hard-forged blade Its war-song wild. But the warrior found That his battle-flasher refused to bite, Or maim the foe. It failed its master
In the hour of need, though oft it had cloven Helmets, and carved the casques of the doomed In combats fierce. For the first time now His treasure failed him, fallen from honor. But Hygelac's earl took heart of courage; In mood defiant he fronted his foe. The angry hero hurled to the ground, In high disdain, the hilt of the sword, The gaudy and jewelled; rejoiced in the strength Of his arm unaided. So all should do Who glory would find and fame abiding, In the crash of conflict, nor care for their lives. The Lord of the Battle-Jutes braved the en- counter; 1536
.The murderous hag by the hair he caught; Down he dragged the dam of Grendel In his swelling rage, till she sprawled on the
The chop of the sea all churned up with blood And bubbling gore. The gray-haired chiefs For Beowulf grieved, agreeing together That hope there was none of his home-returning With victory crowned, to revisit his lord. 1601 Most of them feared he had fallen prey
To the mere-wolf dread in the depths of the sea. When evening came, the Scyldings all Forsook the headland, and Hrothgar himself Turned homeward his steps. But sick at heart The strangers sat and stared at the sea, Hoped against hope to behold their comrade And leader again.
Now that goodly sword Began to melt with the gore of the monster;1610 In bloody drippings it dwindled away. 'Twas a marvellous sight: it melted like ice, When fetters of frost the Father unlocks, Unravels the ropes of the wrinkled ice, Lord and Master of months and seasons. Beheld in the hall the hero from Juteland Treasures unnumbered, but naught he took, Save Grendel's head, and the hilt of the sword, Bright and jeweled, -the blade had melted, Its metal had vanished, so venomous hot Was the blood of the demon-brute dead in the
Soon was in the sea the slayer of monsters; Upward he shot through the shimmer of waves; Cleared was the ocean, cleansed were its waters, The wolfish water-hag wallowed no more; The mere-wife had yielded her miserable life. Swift to the shore the sailors' deliverer Came lustily swimming, with sea-spoil laden; Rejoiced in the burden he bore to the land. Ran to meet him his mailed comrades, With thanks to God who gave them their leader Safe again back and sound from the deep. Quickly their hero's helmet they loosened,. Unbuckled his breastplate. The blood-stained
Fell to a calm 'neath the quiet sky.
BEOWULF'S LAST FIGHT AND DEATH [Beowulf left with the Danes his grisly trophies of battle, the head of Grendel, his huge forequarter, and the hilt of the giant sword with its mystical runic inscription. Loading his boat with the gifts of Hrothgar, he and his comrades sailed away home. After the death of Hygėlac and his son, Beowulf became king of the Jutes, and ruled over them fifty years. In his old age his people were harried by a fire-dragon whom the hero went out to fight. It seems that an outlaw, banished and flying for shelter, had come upon a treasure hid in a deep cave or barrow, guarded by a dragon. Long years before, an earl, the last of his race, had buried the treasure. After his death the dragon, sniffing about the stones, had found it and guarded it three hundred years, until the banished man discovered the place, and carried off one of the golden goblets. In revenge the dragon made nightly raids on Beowulf's realm, flying through the air, spitting fire, burning houses and villages, even Beowulf's hall, the "gift-stool" of the Jutes. Beowulf had an iron shield made against the dragon's fiery breath, and with eleven companions, sought out the hill-vault near the sea. Before attacking the monster he spoke these words to his comrades:]
I mean to win fame defending my people, If the grim destroyer will seek me out, Come at my call from his cavern dark.” Then he greeted his thanes each one, For the last time hailed his helmeted warriors, His comrades dear. "I should carry no sword, No weapon of war 'gainst the worm should bear, If the foe I might slay by strength of my arm, As Grendel I slew long since by my hand. 2522 But I look to fight a fiery battle,
With scorching puffs of poisonous breath.
For this I bear both breastplate and shield; 2525 No foot will I flinch from the foe of the barrow. Wyrd is over us, each shall meet His doom ordained at the dragon-cliff! Bold is my mood, but my boast I omit 'Gainst the battle-flier. Abide ye here, Heroes in harness, hard by the barrow, Cased in your armor the issue await: Which of us two his wounds shall survive. Not yours the attempt, the task is mine. 'Tis meant for no man but me alone To measure his might 'gainst the monster fierce. I get you the gold in glorious fight,
Or battle-death bitter shall bear off your lord." Uprose with his shield the shining hero, Bold 'neath his helmet. He bore his harness In under the cliff; alone he went,
Himself he trusted; no task for faint-heart. Then saw by the wall the warrior brave, Hero of many a hard-fought battle, Arches of stone that opened a way; From the rocky gate there gushed a stream, Bubbling and boiling with battle-fire. So great the heat no hope was there To come at the hoard in the cavern's depth, Unscathed by the blast of the scorching dragon. He let from his breast his battle-cry leap, Swoln with rage was the royal Jute, Stormed the stout-heart; strong and clear Through the gloom of the cave his cry went ringing.
Hate was aroused, the hoard-ward knew 2555 The leader's hail. Too late 'twas now
To parley for peace. The poisonous breath
Of the monster shot from the mouth of the cave, Reeking hot. The hollow earth rumbled. The man by the rock upraised his shield, The Lord of the Jutes, 'gainst the loathly dragon.
Now kindled for battle the curled-up beast; The king undaunted with drawn sword stood, ('Twas an heirloom olden with edge of lightning) Each was so fierce he affrighted the other. Towering tall 'neath tilted shield, Waited the king as the worm coiled back, Sudden to spring: so stood he and waited. Blazing he came in coils of fire
Swift to his doom. The shield of iron Sheltered the hero too short a while,- Life and limb it less protected
Than he hoped it would, for the weapon he held First time that day he tried in battle; Wyrd had not willed he should win the fight. But the Lord of the Jutes uplifted his arm, 2576 Smote the scaly worm, struck him so fierce That his ancient bright-edged blade gave way, Bent on the bone, and bit less sure
Than its owner had need in his hour of peril.2580 That sword-stroke roused the wrath of the caveguard;
Fire and flame afar he spirted,
Blaze of battle; but Beowulf there
No victory boasted: his blade had failed him, Naked in battle, as never it should have, Well-tempered iron! Nor easy it was For Ecgtheow's heir, honored and famous,
This earth to forsake, forever to leave it; Yet he must go, against his will
Elsewhere to dwell. So we all must leave 2590 This fleeting life.-Erelong the foes Bursting with wrath the battle renewed.
The hoard-ward took heart, and with heaving breast
Came charging amain. The champion brave, Strength of his people, was sore oppressed, 2595 Enfolded by flame. No faithful comrades Crowded about him, his chosen band, All æthelings' sons, to save their lives, Fled to the wood. One of them only
Felt surging sorrow; for nought can stifle 2600 Call of kin in a comrade true;
Wiglaf his name, 'twas Weohstan's son Shield-thane beloved, lord of the Scylfings Elfhere's kinsman. When his king he saw Hard by the heat under helmet oppressed, 2605 He remembered the gifts he had got of old, Lands and wealth of the Wægmunding line, The folk-rights all that his father's had been; He could hold no longer, but hard he gripped Linden shield yellow and ancient sword.... 2610 For the first time there the faithful thane, 2652 Youthful and stalwart, stood with his leader, Shoulder to shoulder in shock of battle. Nor melted his courage, nor cracked his blade, His war-sword true, as the worm found out 2656 When together they got in grim encounter.
Wiglaf in wrath upbraided his comrades, Sore was his heart as he spake these words:" "Well I mind when our mead we drank In the princely hall, how we promised our lord Who gave us these rings and golden armlets, That we would repay his war-gifts rich, Helmets and armor, if haply should come His hour of peril; us hath he made Thanes of his choice for this adventure; Spurred us to glory, and gave us these treasures Because he deemed us doughty spearmen, Helmeted warriors, hardy and brave. Yet all the while, unhelped and alone, He meant to finish this feat of strength, Shepherd of men and mightiest lord Of daring deeds. The day is come,- Now is the hour he needs the aid Of spearmen good. Let us go to him now, Help our hero while hard bestead By the nimble flames. God knows that I Had rather the fire should ruthlessly fold My body with his, than harbor me safe. Shame it were surely our shields to carry 2680 Home to our lands, unless we first Slay this foe and save the life
Of the Weder-king. Full well I know
To leave him thus, alone to endure,
Bereft of aid, breaks ancient right.
My helmet and sword shall serve for us both, Shield and armor we share to-day."
Waded the warrior through welter and reek; Buckler and helmet he bore to his leader; Heartened the hero with words of hope: "Do thy best now, dearest Beowulf,
Years ago, in youth, thou vowedst Living, ne'er to lose thine honor, Shield thy life and show thy valor. I stand by thee to the end!" After these words the worm came on, Snorting with rage, for a second charge; All mottled with fire his foes he sought, The warriors hated. But Wiglaf's shield Was burnt to the boss by the billows of fire; His harness helped not the hero young. Shelter he found 'neath the shield of his kins- man, When the crackling blaze had crumbled his own: But mindful of glory, the mighty hero Smote amain with his matchless sword. Down it hurtled, driven by anger,
Till it stuck in the skull, then snapped the blade, Broken was Nægling, Beowulf's sword, Ancient and gray. 'Twas granted him never To count on edge of iron in battle; His hand was too heavy, too hard his strokes, As I have heard tell, for every blade He brandished in battle: the best gave way, And left him helpless and hard bestead. Now for a third time neared the destroyer; 2715 The fire-drake fierce, old feuds remembering, Charged the warrior who wavered an instant; Blazing he came and closed his fangs On Beowulf's throat; and throbbing spirts Of life-blood dark o'erdrenched the hero.
Now Beowulf's thane, the brave and faithful, Dashed with water his darling lord,
His comrade and king all covered with blood And faint with the fight; unfastened his helmet. Beowulf spoke despite his hurt,
His piteous wound. Full well he knew
His years on earth were ended now,
His hours of glad life gone for aye,
His days alloted, and death was near: "Now would I gladly give to a son These weapons of war, had Wyrd 1 but granted That heir of my own should after me come, Sprung from my loins. This land have I ruled Fifty winters. No folk-king dared, None of the chiefs of the neighboring tribes, To touch me with sword or assail me with terror Of battle-threats. I bided at home, Held my peace and my heritage kept, Seeking no feuds nor swearing false oaths. 2765 This gives me comfort, and gladdens me now, Though wounded sore and sick unto death. As I leave my life the Lord may not charge me With killing of kinsmen. Now quickly go, Wiglaf beloved, to look at the hoard, Where hidden it rests 'neath the hoary rock. For the worm lies still, put asleep by his wound, Robbed of his riches. Then rise and haste! Give me to see that golden hoard, Gaze on the store of glorious gems, That easier then I may end my life, Leave my lordship that long I held."
Swiftly, 'tis said, the son of Weohstan Obeyed the words of his bleeding lord,
Maimed in the battle. Through the mouth of
Gazing sad at the gold before him: "For the harvest of gold that here I look on, To the God of Glory I give my thanks. To the Ruler Eternal I render praise That ere I must go he granted me this, To leave to my people this priceless hoard. 'Twas bought with my life; now look ye well To my people's need when I have departed. 2800 No more I may bide among ye here.
Bid the battle-famed build on the foreland A far-seen barrow when flames have burnt me. High o'er the headland of whales it shall tower, A beacon and mark to remind my people. 2806 And sailors shall call it in years to come Beowulf's Barrow as back from afar
O'er the glooming deep they drive their keels."
The great-hearted king unclasped from his neck
A collar of gold, and gave to his thane, The brave young warrior, his bright-gilt helmet, Breastplate and ring. So bade him farewell: "Thou art the last to be left of our house. Wyrd hath o'erwhelmed our Wægmunding line, Swept my kinsmen swift to their doom, Earls in their prime. I must follow them." These words were the last that the warrior gray Found in his heart ere the flames he chose. Swift from his bosom his soul departed To find the reward of the faithful and true.
CÆDMON'S HYMN (c. 670)
(Translated by P. V. D. SHELLY)
High o'er their heads as the heaped-up waters Compassed them round, the raging flood.
Doomed was the host, by death hemmed in, 470 Suddenly trapped. The salty billows
Swept with their swirling the sand from their feet,
As the Ocean cold to its ancient bed,
Through winding channels the churning flood, Came rolling back o'er the rippled bottom, 475 Swift avenger, naked and wild.
With slaughter was streaked the storm-dark air; The bursting deep with blood-terror yawned, When He who made it, by Moses' hand Unbitted the wrath of the raging flood; Wide it came sweeping to swallow the foe; Foamed the waters, the fated sank;
Earth was o'erwhelmed, the air was darkened; Burst the wave-walls, the bulwarks tumbled; The sea-towers melted, when the Mighty One
The pride of the host, through the pillar of fire, With holy hand from heaven above. The onslaught wild of the angry main None might oppose. He appointed their end In the roaring horror. Wroth was the sea: 490 Up it rose, down it smote, dealing destruction. Slaughter-blood spread, the sea-wall fell, Upreared on high, the handiwork of God,
When the ocean He smote with His ancient sword,
Felled the defence of the foam-breasted waves. With the death-blow deep, the doomed men slept.
The army of sinners their souls gave up, The sea-pale host, ensnared and surrounded, When the dark upheaval o'erwhelmed them all, Hugest of wild waves. The host sank down, Pharaoh and his folk, the flower of Egypt Utterly perished. The enemy of God
Soon discovered, when the sea he entered,
That the ocean's master was mightier than hɛ. By the strength of His arm He decided the battle, Wrathful and grim. He gave the Egyptians 506 Thorough reward for that day's work. Not one of that host to his home came back; Of all those warriors not one returned To bring the news of the battle's end, To tell in the towns the tidings of woe, Their husbands' doom to the heroes' wives, How sea-death swallowed the stately host,- No messenger left. The Lord Almighty Confounded their boasting; they fought against God.
Of open sea. Anxious the struggle, Ere we bring at last our barks to land, O'er the rough sea-ridges. Our rescue is near; The Son of God doth safely guide us, Helps us into our harbor of refuge; Shows from the deck the sheltered waters Where smoothly to anchor our ancient chargers, Hold with the hawsers our horses of the deep. Then fix we our hope on that haven of safety That the Prince of Glory prepared for us all, 865 The Ruler on high, when He rose to heaven.
(From The Crist. Translated by J. D. SPAETH.) Lo! on a sudden, and all unlooked for, In the dead of the night, the day of the Lord Shall break tremendous on man and beast,
O'erwhelming the world and the wide creation, As a ruthless robber, ranging at night, Who strides through the dark with stealthy
And suddenly springs on sleep-bound heroes, Greets with violence his victims unguarded.
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