The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 28
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 noted1890The 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 them-ward,And quoth that full welcome to the folk of the WedersThe bright-coated warriors were wending to ship.Then was on the sand there the bark the wide-sidedWith war-weed beladen, the ring-stemm'd as she lay thereWith mares and with treasure; uptower'd the mastHigh over Hrothgar's wealth of the hoards.He then to the boat-warden handsel'd a gold-bounden1900Sword, so that sithence was he on mead-benchWorthy'd the more for that very same wealth,The heirloom. Sithence in the ship he departedTo 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 billowsWaft 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 thenDriven 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 menEager at stream's side far off had looked.To the sand thereon bound he the wide-fathom'd shipWith anchor-bands fast, lest from them the waves' mightThe wood that was winsome should drive thence awayward.Thereon bade he upbear the athelings' treasures,The fretwork and wrought gold. Not far from them thenceforth1921To seek to the giver of treasures it was,E'en Hygelac, Hrethel's son, where at home wonnethHimself 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 wintersUnder the burg-locks had she abided, The daughter of Hæreth; naught was she dastard;Nowise niggard of gifts to the folk of the Geats,Of wealth of the treasures. But wrath Thrytho bore,1931The 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 wasAfter 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 queenlike1940For 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 wasGiven gold-deck'd to the young one of champions, She the dear of her lineage, since Offa's floorOver the fallow flood by the lore of her father1950She sought in her wayfaring. Well was she sithenceThere 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 meThe best of all was he the twain seas beside,Of the measureless kindred; thereof Offa wasFor gifts and for war, the spear-keen of men,Full widely beworthy'd, with wisdom he heldThe land of his heritage. Thence awoke Eomær1960For a help unto heroes, the kinsman of Hemming,The grandson of Garmund, the crafty in war-strife.