The Oldest English Epic/Chapter 1/Beowulf 36
XXXVI
Wiglaf his name was, Weohstan’s son,
linden-thane loved, the lord of Scylfings,[1]
Ælfhere’s kinsman. His king he now saw
2605with heat under helmet hard oppressed.
He minded the prizes his prince had given him,
wealthy seat of the Wægmunding line,
and folk-rights that his father owned.
Not long he lingered. The linden yellow,
2610his shield, he seized; the old sword he drew:—
as heirloom of Eanmund earth-dwellers knew it,
who was slain by the sword-edge, son of Ohtere,
friendless exile, erst in fray
killed by Weohstan, who won for his kin
2615brown-bright helmet, breastplate ringed,
old sword of Eotens, Onela’s gift,
weeds of war of the warrior-thane,
battle-gear brave: though a brother’s child
had been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onela.[2]
2620For winters this war-gear Weohstan kept,
breastplate and board, till his bairn had grown
earlship to earn as the old sire did:
then he gave him, mid Geats, the gear of battle,
portion huge, when he passed from life,
2625fared agéd forth. For the first time now
with his leader-lord the liegeman young
was bidden to share the shock of battle.
Neither softened his soul, nor the sire’s bequest
weakened in war.[3] So the worm found out
2630when once in fight the foes had met!
Wiglaf spake,—and his words were sage;
sad in spirit, he said to his comrades:—
“I remember the time,[4] when mead we took,
what promise we made to this prince of ours
2635in the banquet-hall, to our breaker-of-rings,
for gear of combat to give him requital,
for hard-sword and helmet, if hap should bring
stress of this sort! Himself who chose us
from all his army to aid him now,
2640urged us to glory, and gave these treasures,
because he counted us keen with the spear
and hardy ’neath helm, though this hero-work
our leader hoped unhelped and alone
to finish for us,—folk-defender
2645who hath got him glory greater than all men
for daring deeds! Now the day is come
that our noble master has need of the might
of warriors stout. Let us stride along
the hero to help while the heat is about him
2650glowing and grim! For God is my witness
I am far more fain the fire should seize
along with my lord these limbs of mine![5]
Unsuiting[6] it seems our shields to bear
homeward hence, save here we essay
2655to fell the foe and defend the life
of the Weders’ lord. I wot ’twere shame
on the law of our land[7] if alone the king
out of Geatish warriors woe endured
and sank in the struggle! My sword and helmet,
2660breastplate and board, for us both shall serve!”
Through slaughter-reek strode he to succor his chieftain,
his battle-helm bore, and brief words spake:—
“Beowulf dearest, do all bravely,
as in youthful days of yore thou vowedst
2665that while life should last thou wouldst let no wise
thy glory droop! Now, great in deeds,
atheling steadfast, with all thy strength
shield thy life! I will stand to help thee.”
At the words the worm came once again,
2670murderous monster mad with rage,
with fire-billows flaming, its foes to seek,
the hated men. In heat-waves burned
that board[8] to the boss, and the breastplate failed
to shelter at all the spear-thane young.
2675Yet quickly under his kinsman’s shield
went eager the earl, since his own was now
all burned by the blaze. The bold king again
had mind of his glory: with might his glaive
was driven into the dragon’s head,—
2680blow nerved by hate. But Nægling[9] was shivered,
broken in battle was Beowulf’s sword,
old and gray. ’Twas granted him not
that ever the edge of iron at all
could help him at strife: too strong was his hand,
2685so the tale is told, and he tried too far
with strength of stroke all swords he wielded,
though sturdy their steel: they steaded him nought.
Then for the third time thought on its feud
that folk-destroyer, fire-dread dragon,
2690and rushed on the hero, where room allowed,
battle-grim, burning; its bitter teeth
closed on his neck, and covered him
with waves of blood from his breast that welled.
- ↑ As noted above to v. 2151, Weohstan was a kinsman of Hygelac and Beowulf, but had taken service under the Swedish king Onela, killing the rebel Eanmund and winning his weapons and armor. When Eadgils, Eanmund’s brother, succeeds to the Swedish throne, Weohstan returns to his own kindred. Evidently he makes his peace, gets the family estates, and leaves them to his son Wiglaf. (Gering, p. 119.)
- ↑ That is, although Eanmund was brother’s son to Onela, the slaying of the former by Weohstan is not felt as cause of feud, and is rewarded by gift of the slain man’s weapons.
- ↑ Both Wiglaf and the sword did their duty.—The following is one of the classic passages for illustrating the comitatus as the most conspicuous Germanic institution, and its underlying sense of duty, based partly on the idea of loyalty and partly on the practical basis of benefits received and repaid. It should be read along with the wholly admirable companion portions of The Fight at Maldon, as well as the story of Cynewulf and Cyneheard in the Chronicle. Historical song and epic strike the same note; and the testimony of Tacitus (Germania, c. xiv) is warm with praise and admiration of Germanic loyalty among the warriors of the first and second centuries. Cæsar, as one would expect, looks at the institution from a practical military man’s point of view.
- ↑ See the famous talk of Biarco and Hialto which Saxo (Bk. II, Holder, pp.59 f.) says he got from “an old Danish song.” In Elton’s translation Hialto says: “Sweet it is to repay the gifts received from our lord…let us do with brave hearts all the things that in our cups we boasted…let us keep the vows which we swore. . . .” And Biarco (Bjarki): “I will die overpowered near the head of my slain Captain, and at his feet thou also shalt slip on thy face in death, so that whoso scans the piled corpses may see in what wise we rate the gold our lord gave us!”—As to “remembering the mead,” see Finnsburg, vv. 39 ff. The very words of Wiglaf, however, are echoed in Maldon by Ælwine, as the faithful thane exhorts his comrades to fight on nor forsake their slain lord.
“Remember what time at the mead we talked,
when on the benches our boasts we made,
heroes in hall, of the hard encounter:
now may be kenned whose courage avails!
I will my kinship make clear to all,
that I was in Mercia of mighty race.
My agéd father was Ealhelm named. . . .
None of the lords of my land shall taunt me
I was fain from this field to flee away,
my life to save now my lord lies dead,
all hewn in combat,—my cruelest grief:
for he was my kinsman and captain both.”Offa exhorted in the same vein; and then—
A valuable survival of this taunting of men who broke the oath of loyalty is the cry of the sworn-brother in Bewick and Graham:—Leofsunu spake and lifted his shield:—
“This is my hest that hence I flee not
a footbreadth’s space, but will further go
to revenge in fight my friend-and-lord.
Nor need at Sturmere steadfast thanes
jeer and taunt that I journeyed home,
when my liege had fallen, a lordless man.”In every town that I ride through,
They’ll say—“There rides a brotherless man!”That is, there is one who has done to death his sworn-brother.
With these speeches of the Maldon warriors and of Wiglaf one may compare the awkward but effective prose which reports the answer of Cynewulf’s thanes to the conquering band of Cyneheard. They resist all bribes and entreaties to quit their dead master and king, and fall beside him. The account is perhaps based on an old lay.—See Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for the year 755.
- ↑ Sc. “than to bide safely here,”—a common figure of incomplete comparison.
- ↑ Unusually deliberate understatement, indicating the excess of shame and disgrace.
- ↑ Custom, tradition,—one of the boni mores which, Tacitus says, counts for so much more than law.
- ↑ Wiglaf’s wooden shield.
- ↑ Gering would translate “kinsman of the nail,” as both are made of iron.—What is said here of Beowulf’s excessive strength, like the former mention of his early slackness, is a legendary trait of Offa the elder, the Uffo of Saxo Grammaticus. This excess of strength is a favorite trait in certain lines of romance, runs into exaggeration, and lends itself to burlesque. In Hugh Spencer’s Feats in France, a poor popular ballad, the hero cannot tilt with any one French lance, his strength smashing it in his hand; and he is accommodated only when a dozen lances are bound into one.