Authors: Frederick Rebsamen
Beowulf (14 page)
1870 | Then the old battle-king embraced his hero |
 | clasped him in his arms kissed him farewell |
 | with tears of regret for that time of parting |
 | sweet sorrow-thoughts. It seemed to them both |
 | the old wiseman and the warrior from Götland |
 | that no more in that life loaned by the Measurer |
 | would they share hearth-words. To the Shield-Danes' king |
 | that young sea-warrior was so strongly beloved |
 | it swelled in his heart surged with regret |
 | that this son of Ecgtheow would sail far from him |
1880 | back towards his home. Then Beowulf left |
 | gold-proud warrior gladdened with treasure |
 | measured the sea-path. His sail was waiting |
 | riding on anchor ready for the sea. |
 | The bountiful gifts of that good Dane-lord |
 | were praised by the men. That proud hall-king |
 | was blameless in all best of warriors |
 | till age wearied him withered his strength. |
 | They came to the sea sailors from abroad |
 | a band of warriors bearing ring-corselets |
1890 | linked armor-mail. The landwarden watched |
 | as their burnished weapons winked in the sunâ |
 | from the high cliff-top he hailed all of them, |
 | no challenge in his heart but cheerful greeting, |
 | rode to meet them made them welcome |
 | in their bright armor back to their keel-ship. |
 | The sand-bound vessel soon was gift-laden |
 | its broad board-deck burdened with gold |
 | horses and treasuresâthe high mast towered |
 | over Hrothgar's bounty bright with rewards. |
1900 | To the good beach-guard Beowulf gave then |
 | a gold-wound sword a gift to honor him |
 | on the benches of Heorot bettered by that weapon |
 | sword for a champion. |
 |                                    The ship took wind |
 | drove across the waves from the Danish cliff-coast. |
 | The sail grew taut tugged by ocean-winds |
 | mast-ropes trembled tight sail-anchorsâ |
 | piling seaswells pounded clinker-boards |
 | bound for Götlandâthe good wave-cutter |
 | plunged into the foam flew with sail-wing |
1910 | followed the swan-road skimmed across the sea |
 | till headlands of home hovered above them |
 | the known seacliffsânudged by the wind |
 | the keel carried them to calm shore-sand. |
 | The coastguard came riding ready for beachingâ |
 | through long watch-days he waited for their mast |
 | gazed at the skyline for signs of homecoming. |
 | They roped to shore-sand the ring-prowed ship |
 | lashed to its anchor the lean wave-plow |
 | safe from surf-crashing surging water-throngs. |
1920 | Treasures were borne from the broad ship-bosom |
 | war-gear and horses. The high meadhall |
 | lifted its gables by the looming seawall |
 | where Hygelac waited wise Hrethel's son |
 | good treasure-king with his Geats around him. |
 | The hall towered there high above the sea |
 | where Hygd the fair one Haereth's daughter-child |
 | waited with her king wise and generous |
 | though young in winters worthy folk-queen |
 | made for a kingdomâno miser was she |
1930 | with gifts to her Geats gold and weapons |
 | treasure from her hands. |
A
T
THIS POINT
a nameless woman is abruptly introduced as a contrast to Hygd and a puzzle to
Beowulf
scholars. A vicious torturer and man-killer before marriage, she is sent “overseas” by her father to marry King Offa, who tames her into a model queen, her progression thus being the opposite of Heremod's. The abruptness of this allusion and obscurity of her name, also the elaborate praise of Offa, have caused much speculation about the possible spuriousness of this passage, and since two historic kings were named Offaâthe first a Continental king of the Angles in the fourth century and the second an English king of the Mercians in the eighthâit is impossible to determine what the
Beowulf
poet had in mind, if indeed it is not an interpolation in honor of the Mercian king, in whose reign some critics have suggested that the poem may have been composed. Garmund is the father of the Continental Offa, Eomer is Offa's son, and Hemming is their kin.
Beowulf then predicts trouble between Danes and Heathobards, which will eventually lead to the burning of Heorot foreshadowed earlier in the poem. Hoping to settle an old feud, Hrothgar has betrothed his daughter Freawaru to Ingeld, son of King Froda of the Heathobards, who was slain by Danes in battle. Beowulf, in his report to Hygelac, then imagines that an old Heathobard warrior, incensed by a young member of Freawaru's retinue who struts about wearing the sword of a slain Heathobard warrior, will urge the son of the slain warrior to take revenge, after which Ingeld will be forced to renew hostilities.
Beowulf's unpromising youth is a common folktale motif also found in a Latin life of Offa the Angle. Beowulf is granted a large landholding by Hygelacâ“seven thousand,” the poet says, without further specificationâbut in any case it is nearly half of the Geatish kingdom, though somewhat less than Hygelac's holding.
 |                                    She tortured and murdered |
 | powerful princess proud king's daughterâ |
 | not one hall-thane hero or servant |
 | save the fond father of that fearsome maid |
 | dared look at her by the light of dayâ |
 | his hands would be locked lashed with death-bonds |
 | no hope for his lifeâthat harmless crime |
 | would soon be settled with a slashing blade |
 | swift swordbites would sever from life |
1940 | that pitiful wretch. No peaceful lady |
 | would torture her thanes truss them for death |
 | condemn to the blade dear retainers |
 | for imaginary insults to her maiden honor. |
 | Hemming's kinsman calmed that slaughter-maidâ |
 | ale-drinkers say that she softened hate-moments |
 | mellowed murder-thoughts measured her commands |
 | since first she was given, gold-endowed princess, |
 | to that young champion chosen for his queen |
 | sent across the waves by her sorrowing father |
1950 | to Offa the king come to his meadhall |
 | to share the gift-throne. She soon bent to him |
 | welcomed hall-thanes hailed peace-offerings |
 | used her wealth there for young and for old. |
 | With high love-thoughts she held to her king |
 | who of all mankind, as men have told me, |
 | was strongest of throne-men from sandshore to sandshore |
 | on the earth's broadlandâOffa was spear-keen |
 | tall thane-master in thronging of war |
 | generous gift-king great with gold-treasures |
1960 | strength for his homeland. His son was Eomer |
 | hall-worthy king-child Hemming's kinsman |
 | Garmund's grandson good warrior-prince. |
 | Over the shore-sand with his shoal of warriors |
 | Beowulf went marching measured the sea-rim |
 | wide cliff-beaches. The world-candle shone |
 | southward to the sea. They stepped to the path |
 | mounted the sea-wall where their mighty lord |
 | Ongentheow's bane bountiful hall-king |
 | helm of the Geats held his gift-throne |
1970 | shared his gold-hoard. Good news-tidings |
 | of Beowulf's beaching were borne to Hygelacâ |
 | strong and treasure-proud sailors were landsafe |
 | home with their livesâlinden-shield thanes |
 | stepped to the hall hailed their people-king. |
 | Soon were benches bared to receive them |
 | the roomy wine-hall ready for feasting. |
 | The beloved sailor sat by his king |
 | nephew by his uncle urged by welcome-words |
 | glad hearth-greetings from Hrethel's son |
1980 | hearthlord of the Geats. The good peace-queen |
 | moved throughout the hall Haereth's daughter-child |
 | bore among the benches bright ale-vessels |
 | served them with her hands. Then Hygelac spoke |
 | asked for news-words from his nephew beside him |
 | eager for tidings of that trip to Denmark |
 | Sea-Geats sailing to that sorrowful hall: |
 | “What luck did you have beloved Beowulf |
 | when you foolishly left on that long sea-sail |
 | seeking adventure over salty water |
1990 | monsters in Heorot? Did you help the Danes |
 | win for Hrothgar a healthier meadhall |
 | for that thane-deprived king? My thoughts troubled me |
 | seethed with sorrow for that senseless voyage |
 | a bad bargain. I begged you to stay |
 | ignore that fiend foul murder-guest |
 | to let the Shield-Danes look to their feud |
 | deal with Grendel. To God I give thanks |
 | that I see you now sound and war-proud.” |
 | Beowulf spoke son of Ecgtheow: |
2000 | “That great struggle, good Hygelac, |
 | is no secret now how I snared Grendel |
 | a grim grip-battle in that great meadhall |
 | home of the Spear-Danes where that hell's demon |
 | ruled in darkness with death and thane-grief |
 | through long sorrow-years. I stopped that murder |
 | so that no other creature of the kin of Grendel |
 | on this broad earthyard may boast of that fightâ |
 | there were dawn-sounds of victory vengeance in Heorot |
 | for greed and murder. I greeted Hrothgar |
2010 | when I first entered that ill-fated hall. |
 | Soon that wise one war-son of Healfdene |
 | was healed from mourning found hope in my words |
 | made room by his sons a seat by the gift-throne. |
 | Joy was sung thereâseldom have I known |
 | hall-thanes happier under heaven's arch-vault |
 | such great mead-laughter. Then the good folk-queen |
 | weaver of peace-thoughts walked through the hall |
 | greeted the young ones gave arm-bracelets |
 | to cheerful warriors as she went to her seat. |
2020 | At times in the hall Hrothgar's daughter-child |
 | offered ale-vessels to the old counselorsâ |
 | hall-thanes thanked her hailed her by name |
 | fair Freawaru as she fetched the hall-drink, |
 | passed among the benches. She is promised, I hear, |
 | gold-worthy maiden, to great Froda's son. |
 | The helm of the Danes hopes for peace now |
 | bargains with Heathobards a bride for a truce |
 | buys with his daughter, his dear girl-child, |
 | a settlement of strife. Seldom it happens |
2030 | after spilling of blood that swords will relax |
 | blood-spears stay idle though the bride prevail. |
 | Then the young hall-king Heathobards' leader |
 | and his thanes around him may think sorrow-thoughts |
 | when he walks with his queen in the wide meadhallâ |
 | a Danish warrior walks in their company |
 | wears at his girdle a great treasure-sword |
 | gold-hilted warblade wonder-smith's heirloom |
 | Heathobard weapon, worn to that battle |
 | on that sorrowful day when their spear-king fell |
2040 | laid down his life with his loved ones around him. |
 | Then an old battle-thane can bear it no more |
 | stares at that Sword-Dane as he struts past him |
 | remembers with mourning morning-cold death |
 | grim spear-slaughter, speaks to a young one |
 | reminds him of honor urges him on |
 | wakening war-thoughts with words of revenge: |
 | âDo you see, young friend, the sword on that Dane |
 | that weapon your father wore to his death |
 | on his last earth-day, that old treasure-sword |
2050 | he bore to the field when he fell to Shield-Danes |
 | who won that war-day after Withergyld lay |
 | sank with his sword on that sorrowful meadow? |
 | Now this man-child of a murdering Dane |
 | walks beneath this roof wearing that battle-blade |
 | that is yours by birth, boasting of murder |
 | proud of that heirloom pilfered from your kin.' |
 | He whispers and urges whips him with words |
 | with mourning messages memories of tears |
 | till the queen's hall-thane is quiet at last |
2060 | stilled by a swordbite sleeps forever |
 | stripped of his lifeâhis slayer escapes |
 | slips through the night to the known woodland. |
 | Then the truce is broken battle is renewed |
 | oathwords forgotten. Ingeld remembers |
 | longs for his fatherâlove for his wife |
 | is cooled by that longing for kin and companions. |
 | I have small hope now for Heathobards' friendship |
 | peace with the Danes in the days to come |
 | truce through marriage. |
 |                                    I will tell you more |
2070 | of my fight with Grendel give you my story |
 | describe clearly for my king and friend |
 | that hard hand-battle. When heaven's gem |
 | glided under earth came an angry guest |
 | blood-minded monster to that mighty wine-hall |
 | where we all waited wardens of the night. |
 | He seized Hondscioh slaughtered him there |
 | our doomed companionâhe died quickly |
 | good soldier-friendâGrendel murdered him |
 | crunched him greedily gulped all of him |
2080 | crammed into his mouth that doom-marked warrior. |
 | None the sooner for that would he stop his murdering |
 | bloody-toothed killer baleful visitorâ |
 | not yet was he ready to run from that hall |
 | but sure of his strength he seized my fingers |
