The Tale of Beowulf/Chapter 30
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-playTheir own fellows belov'd and their very own lives.2040For then saith at the beer, he who seeth the ring,An ancient ash-warrior who mindeth of allThe 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 fightUnder the war-mask e'en on the last time,That the dear iron, whereas the Danes slew him,2050Wielded 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 comethThat the thane of the fair bride for the deeds of his fatherAfter bite of the bill sleepeth all blood-stain'd,2060All forfeit of life; but thenceforth the otherEscapeth alive; the land well he kenneth;Then will be broken on both sides forsoothThe oath-swearing of earls, whenas unto IngeldWell up the death-hatreds, and the wife-loves of himBecause 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 onAgain about Grendel, that thou get well to know it,2070O treasure-out-dealer, how sithence betidedThe hand-race of heroes: sithence heaven's gemAll 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,2079Of the man well-beloved the body he swallow'd;Nor the sooner therefor out empty-handedThe 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 be2090As 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 folk-scatherFor each one of evils out paid the hand-gild.There I, O my lord king, them thy leal peopleWorthy'd with works: but away he gat loosedOut 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 humbleHe sad of his mood to the mere-ground fell downward.2100Me for that slaughter-race the friend of the ScyldingsWith 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 heSoothfast and sorrowful; whiles a spell seldom toldTold he by right, the king roomy-hearted;2110Whiles 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 wearingTook pleasure amongst us, till came upon menAnother 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 women2120Awreaked her bairn, and quelled a warriorIn 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 DanesBurn up with the brand, nor lade on the baleThe man well-belov'd, for his body she bare offIn her fathom the fiendly all under the fell-stream.That was unto Hrothgar of sorrows the heaviestOf them which the folk-chieftain long had befallen.2130Then me did the lord king, and e'en by thy life,Mood-heavy beseech me that I in the holm-throngShould 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 becarvedIn that hall of the ground from the Mother of GrendelWith the all-eked edges; unsoftly out thence2140My life forth I ferry'd, for not yet was I fey.But the earls' burg to me was giving thereafterMuch sort of the treasures, e'en Healfdene's son.