Beowulf

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Nationalmuseel, ( opcnhagen.

\eowulf is to England what Hcmer's ///ac/ and Odyssey are

to ancient Greece: it is t^e first great work of a nationai

literature. Becwulf is the mythical and literary record of a

formative stage of English civilization; it is also an epic of the

heroic sources of English cuitu-e. As such, it uses a host of tra-

ditional motifs associated with heroic literature all over the world.

Liks most early heroic literature. Beowulf is oral art. it was

hanaes down, with changes, and embe'lishrnents. from one min-

strel to another. The stories of Beowulf, like those of all oral epics,

are traditional ones, famil iar to tne audiences who crowded around

the harp:st-bards in the communal halls at night. The tales in the

Beowulf epic are the stories of dream and legend, of monsters and

of god-fashioned weapons, of descents to the underworld and of

fights with dragons, of the hero's quest and of a community threat-

ened by the powers of evil.

Beowulf was composed in Old English, probably in Northumbria

in northeast England, sometime between the years 700 and 750.

The world it depicts, however, is much older, that of the early sixth

century. Much of the material of the poem is based on early folk

legends—some Celtic, some Scandinavian. Since the scenery de-

scribes tne coast of Northumbna. not of Scandinavia, it has been

assumed that the poet who wrote the version that has come downto us was Northumbrian. Given the Cnristian elements in the epic,

this poet may also have been a monk.

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]2 The Anglo-Saxons

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The only manuscript we have of Beowulf dates from the year

1000 and is now in the British Museum in London. Burned and

stained, it was discovered in the eighteenth century: Somehow it

had survived Henry Vl l l 's destruction of the monasteries two hun-

dred years earlier.

By the standards of Homer, whose epics run to nearly 15,000

lines, Beowulf, with approximately 3,200 lines, is relatively short.

The epic tells the story of Beowulf (his name may mean "bear"),

a Geat from Sweden who crosses the sea to Denmark in a quest

to rescue King Hrothgar from the demonic monster Grendel. This

epic hero, who emerges from the misty reaches of the English past,

is a far-Northern mask of a national hero "type," who in other

stories wears the mask of St. George or King Arthur. This hero-

type is the dragon slayer, the representative of a beseiged com-

munity that stands in precarious unity against the satanic forces

that lurk everywhere in the cold darkness. When Grendel appeared

to the Anglo-Saxon listener, he was not viewed as a legend; he was

the embodiment of an all-too-present reality.

A List of Characters and Places

Here are some of the important people, monsters, and places

that appear in Beowulf or are mentioned in the story:

Beowulf: a Geat, son of Edgetho and nephew of Higlac, king

of the Geats. Higlac is Beowulf's feudal lord, as well as his

uncle.

Brecca: chief of a tribe called Brondings and a friend of Beo-

wulf.

Grendel: a man-eating monster who lives at the bottom of a

foul mere, or mountain lake. His name might be related to

the old Norse grindill, meaning "storm," or grenja, "to bel-

low."

Herot: the golden guest-hall built by King Hrothgar, the Danish

ruler. It was decorated with the antlers of stags; the name

means "hart [stag] hall." Scholars think Herot might have

been built near Lejre on the coast of Zealand, in Denmark.

Hrothgar: king of the Danes, builder of Herot. He had once

befriended Beowulf's father. His father was called Healfdane

(which probably means "half Dane"). Hrothgar's name might

mean "glory spear" or "spear of triumph."

Unferth: one of Hrothgar's courtiers, who is reputed to be a

skilled warrior. His sword, called Hrunting, is used by Beowulf

in a later battle.

Welthow: Hrothgar's wife, queen of the Danes.

Wiglaf: a Geat warrior, one of Beowulf's select band, and the

only one to help him in his final fight with the dragon. Wiglaf

might be related to Beowulf.

Page from the Beowulf manuscript(c. 1000).

British Library.

Beowulf 13

From

TRADITIONAL EPIC

Translated by Burton Raffel

Prologue

Hear me! We've heard of Danish heroes,

Ancient kings and the glory they cut

For themselves, swinging mighty swords!

How Shild1 made slaves of soldiers from every

Land, crowds of captives he'd beaten

Into terror; he'd traveled to Denmark alone,

An abandoned child, but changed his own fate,

Lived to be rich and much honored. He ruled

Lands on all sides: wherever the sea

Would take them his soldiers sailed, returned

With tribute and obedience. There was a brave

King! And he gave them more than his glory,

Conceived a son for the Danes, a new leader

Allowed them by the grace of God. They had lived,

Before his coming, kingless and miserable;

Now the Lord of all life, Ruler

Of glory, blessed them with a prince, Beo,2

Whose power and fame soon spread through the world.

10

15

The epic Beowulf had been told

by the Anglo-Saxons for over five

hundred years before it was

finally written down. As you

read, see if you can understand

why it has remained popular.

1. Shild, a Danish king. He arrived in Denmark alone in a ship when he

was a child. The ship was loaded with many treasures.

2. Beo, grandfather of Hrothgar, a Danish king.

Carved wooden head from a ship'stentpost, Gokstad ship-burial.Copyright © University Museum of National

Antiquities, Oslo, Norway.

108 THE ANGLO-SAXON PERIOD

Shild's strong son was the glory of Denmark;

His father's warriors were wound round his heart 20

With golden rings, bound to their prince

By his father's treasure. So young men build

The future, wisely open-handed in peace,

Protected in war; so warriors earn

Their fame, and wealth is shaped with a sword. 25

When his time was come the old king died,

Still strong but called to the Lord's hands.

His comrades carried him down to the shore,

Bore him as their leader had asked, their lord

And companion, while words could move on his tongue. 30

Shild's reign had been long; he'd ruled them well.

There in the harbor was a ring-prowed fighting

Ship, its timbers icy, waiting,

And there they brought the beloved body

Of their ring-giving lord, and laid him near 35

The mast. Next to that noble corpse

They heaped up treasures, jeweled helmets,

Hooked swords and coats of mail, armor

Carried from the ends of the earth: no ship

Had ever sailed so brightly fitted, 40

No king sent forth more- deeply mourned.

Forced to set him adrift, floating

As far as the tide might run, they refused

To give him less from their hoards of gold

Than those who'd shipped him away, an orphan 45

And a beggar, to cross the waves alone.

High up over his head they flew

His shining banner, then sadly let

The water pull at the ship, watched it

Slowly sliding to where neither rulers so

Nor heroes nor anyone can say whose hands

Opened to take that motionless cargo.

Then Beo was king in that Danish castle,

Shild's son ruling as long as his father

And as loved, a famous lord of men. 55

And he in turn gave his people a son,

The great Healfdane, a fierce fighter

Beowulf 109

Who led the Danes to the end of his long

Life and left them four children,

Three princes to guide them in battle, Hergar eo

And Hrothgar and Halga the Good, and one daughter,

Yrs, who was given to Onela, king

Of the Swedes, and became his wife and their queen.

Then Hrothgar, taking the throne, led

The Danes to such glory that comrades and kinsmen 55

Swore by his sword, and young men swelled

His armies, and he thought of greatness and resolved

To build a hall that would hold his mighty

Band and reach higher toward Heaven than anything

That had ever been known to the sons of men. ?o

And in that hall he'd divide the spoils

Of their victories, to old and young what they'd earned

In battle, but leaving the common pastures

Untouched, and taking no lives. The work

Was ordered, the timbers tied and shaped 75

By the hosts that Hrothgar ruled. It was quickly

Ready, that most beautiful of dwellings, built

As he'd wanted, and then he whose word was obeyed

All over the earth named it Herot.

His boast come true he commanded a banquet, so

Opened out his treasure-full hands.

That towering place, gabled and huge,

Stood waiting for time to pass, for war

To begin, for flames to leap as high

As the feud that would light them, and for Herot to burn, ss

m

Though the poetic form of the Beowulf story may

seem foreign to you, the hero himself should seem

very familiar. He embodies many virtues we still

admire in the heroic "dragon-slayers" of today.

Beowulf has superior physical prowess, he is su-

premely ethical, and he risks his own life to save

the lives of those who are in mortal danger and

cannot protect themselves.

The setting of the first part of the epic is Herot,

a guest-hall or "mead-hall." (Mead is a fermented

drink made from honey.) The hall had a central

place in Anglo-Saxon society. Here the lord's war-

riors could feast, listen to the bard's stories, and

sleep in safety.

You'll notice that Grendel is immediately iden-

tified as a spawn of Cain. In the Bible, Cain is the

first murderer. His crime was fratricide—the

murder of his own brother. For an account of

Cain's murder of Abel and of the curse put on

Cain's descendants, see page 30.

from BeowulfTranslated by Burton Raffel

The Monster Grendel

A powerful monster, living downIn the darkness, growled in pain, impatientAs day after day the music rangLoud in that hall, the harp's rejoicing

5 Call and the poet's clear songs, sungOf the ancient beginnings of us all, recallingThe Almighty making the earth, shapingThese beautiful plains marked off by oceans,Then proudly setting the sun and moon

10 To glow across the land and light it;The corners of the earth were made lovely with treesAnd leaves, made quick with life, with eachOf the nations who now move on its face. And thenAs now warriors sang of their pleasure:

15 So Hrothgar's men lived happy in his hallTill the monster stirred, that demon, that fiend,Grendel, who haunted the moors, the wildMarshes, and made his home in a hellNot hell but earth. He was spawned in that slime,

20 Conceived by a pair of those monsters bornOf Cain, murderous creatures banishedBy God, punished forever for the crimeOf Abel's death. The Almighty droveThose demons out, and their exile was bitter,

25 Shut away from men; they splitInto a thousand forms of evil—spiritsAnd fiends, goblins, monsters, giants,A brood forever opposing the Lord'sWill, and again and again defeated.

14 The Anglo-Saxons

30 Then, when darkness had dropped, GrendelWent up to Herot, wondering what the warriorsWould do in that hall when their drinking was done.He found them sprawled in sleep, suspectingNothing, their dreams undisturbed. The monster's

35 Thoughts were as quick as his greed or his claws:He slipped through the door and there in the silenceSnatched up thirty men, smashed themUnknowing in their beds and ran out with their bodies,The blood dripping behind him, back

40 To his lair, delighted with his night's slaughter.At daybreak, with the sun's first light, they saw

How well he had worked, and in that gray morningBroke their long feast with tears and lamentsFor the dead. Hrothgar, their lord, sat joyless

45 In Herot, a mighty prince mourningThe fate of his lost friends and companions,Knowing by its tracks that some demon had tornHis followers apart. He wept, fearingThe beginning might not be the end. And that night

50 Grendel came again, so setOn murder that no crime could ever be enough,No savage assault quench his lustFor evil. Then each warrior triedTo escape him, searched for rest in different

55 Beds, as far from Herot as they could find,Seeing how Grendel hunted when they slept.Distance was safety; the only survivorsWere those who fled him. Hate had triumphed.

So Grendel ruled, fought with the righteous,60 One against many, and won; so Herot

Stood empty, and stayed deserted for years,Twelve winters of grief for Hrothgar, kingOf the Danes, sorrow heaped at his doorBy hell-forged hands. His misery leaped

65 The seas, was told and sung in allMen's ears: how Grendel's hatred began,How the monster relished his savage warOn the Danes, keeping the bloody feudAlive, seeking no peace, offering

70 No truce, accepting no settlement, no priceIn gold or land, and paying the livingFor one crime only with another. No oneWaited for reparation from his plundering claws:That shadow of death hunted in the darkness,

75 Stalked Hrothgar's warriors, oldAnd young, lying in waiting, hiddenIn mist, invisibly following them from the edgeOf the marsh, always there, unseen.

16 The Anglo-Saxons

So mankind's enemy continued his crimes,80 Killing as often as he could, coming

Alone, bloodthirsty and horrible. Though he livedIn Herot, when the night hid him, he neverDared to touch king Hrothgar's gloriousThrone, protected by God—God,

85 Whose love Grendel could not know. But Hrothgar'sHeart was bent. The best and most nobleOf his council debated remedies, satIn secret sessions, talking of the terrorAnd wondering what the bravest of warriors could do.

90 And sometimes they sacrificed to the old stone gods,Made heathen vows, hoping for Hell'sSupport, the Devil's guidance in drivingTheir affliction off. That was their way,And the heathen's only hope, Hell

95 Always in their hearts, knowing neither GodNor His passing as He walks through our world, the

LordOf Heaven and earth; their ears could not hearHis praise nor know His glory. Let themBeware, those who are thrust into danger,

100 Clutched at by trouble, yet can carry no solaceIn their hearts, cannot hope to be better! HailTo those who will rise to God, drop offTheir dead bodies and seek our Father's peace!

So the living sorrow of Healfdane's son0105 Simmered, bitter and fresh, and no wisdom

Or strength could break it: that agony hungOn king and people alike, harshAnd unending, violent and cruel, and evil.

In his far-off home Beowulf, Higlac's110 Follower and the strongest of the Geats—greater

And stronger than anyone anywhere in this world—Heard how Grendel filled nights with horrorAnd quickly commanded a boat fitted out,Proclaiming that he'd go to that famous king,

115 Would sail across the sea to Hrothgar,Now when help was needed. NoneOf the wise ones regretted his going, muchAs he was loved by the Geats: the omens were good,And they urged the adventure on. So Beowulf

120 Chose the mightiest men he could find,The bravest and best of the Geats, fourteenIn all, and led them down to their boat;He knew the sea, would point the prowStraight to that distant Danish shore.

104. Healfdane's son: Hrothgar.

Beowulf 17

Beowulf arrives in Denmark and is directed to Herot, the guest-hall of King Hrothgar. The king sends his thane Wulfgar to greetthe visitors.

The Arrival of the Hero

125 Then Wulfgar went to the door and addressedThe waiting seafarers with soldier's words:

"My lord, the great king of the Danes, commands meTo tell you that he knows of your noble birthAnd that having come to him from over the open

130 Sea you have come bravely and are welcome.Now go to him as you are, in your armor and helmets,But leave your battle shields here, and your spears,Let them lie waiting for the promises your wordsMay make."

Beowulf arose, with his men135 Around him, ordering a few to remain

With their weapons, leading the others quicklyAlong under Herat's steep roof into Hrothgar'sPresence. Standing on that prince's own hearth,Helmeted, the silvery metal of his mail shirt

140 Gleaming with a smith's high art, he greetedThe Danes' great lord:

"Hail, Hrothgar!Higlac is my cousin0 and my king; the daysOf my youth have been filled with glory. Now Grendel'sName has echoed in our land: sailors

145 Have brought us stories of Herot, the bestOf all mead-halls, deserted and useless when the moonHangs in skies the sun had lit,Light and life fleeing together.My .people have said, the wisest, most knowing

150 And best of them, that my duty was to go to the Danes'Great King. They have seen my strength for themselves,Have watched me rise from the darkness of war,Dripping with my enemies' blood. I droveFive great giants into chains, chased

155 All of that race from the earth. I swamIn the blackness of night, hunting monstersOut of the ocean, and killing them oneBy one; death was my errand and the fateThey had earned. Now Grendel and 1 are called

160 Together, and I've come. Grant me, then,Lord and protector of this noble place,A single request! I have come so far,Oh shelterer of warriors and your people's loved friend,That this one favor you should not refuse me—

165 That I, alone and with the help of my men,May purge all evil from this hall. I have heard,

142. cousin: meaning "relative." Higlac isBeowulf s uncle and feudal lord.

Beowulf 19

Too, that the monster's scorn of menIs so great that he needs no weapons and fears none.Nor will I. My lord Higlac

170 Might think less of me if I let my swordGo where my feet were afraid to, if I hidBehind some broad linden shield:0 my handsAlone shall fight for me, struggle for lifeAgainst the monster. God must decide

175 Who will be given to death's cold grip.Grendel's plan, I think, will beWhat it has been before, to invade this hallAnd gorge his belly with our bodies. If he can,If he can. And I think, if my time will have come,

180 There'll be nothing to mourn over, no corpse to prepareFor its grave: Grendel will carry our bloodyFlesh to the moors, crunch on our bonesAnd smear torn scraps of our skin on the wallsOf his den. No, I expect no Danes

185 Will fret about sewing our shrouds,0 if he wins.And if death does take me, send the hammeredMail of my armor to Higlac, returnThe inheritance I had from Hrethel,0 and heFrom Wayland.0 Fate will unwind as it must!"

190 Hrothgar replied, protector of the Danes:"Beowulf, you've come to us in friendship, and

becauseOf the reception your father found at our court.Edgetho had begun a bitter feud,Killing Hathlaf, a Wulfing warrior:0

195 Your father's countrymen were afraid of war,If he returned to his home, and they turned him away.Then he traveled across the curving wavesTo the land of the Danes. I was new to the throne,Then, a young man ruling this wide

200 Kingdom and its golden city: Hergar,My older brother, a far better manThan I, had died and dying made me,Second among Healfdane's sons, firstIn this nation. I bought the end of Edgetho's

205 Quarrel, sent ancient treasures through the ocean'sFurrows to the Wulfings; your father sworeHe'd keep that peace. My tongue grows heavy,And my heart, when I try to tell you what GrendelHas brought us, the damage he's done, here

210 In this hall. You see for yourself how much smallerOur ranks have become, and can guess what we've lostTo his terror. Surely the Lord AlmightyCould stop his madness, smother his lust!How many times have my men, glowing

172. linden shield: shield made of wood ofthe linden tree.

185. shrouds: cloths used to wrap a bodyfor burial.

188. Hrethel: Beowulf s grandfather, formerking of the Geats.189. Wayland: a smith celebrated for hiswonderful workmanship in making swordsand shirts of ringed metal (mail shirts).

194. Wulfing warrior: the Wulfings were aGermanic tribe. Hrothgar's queen mighthave been a Wulfing.

20 The Anglo-Saxons

Celtic bronze vessel. Sutton HooShip treasure (7th century).

British Museum.

215 With courage drawn from too many cups

Of ale, sworn to stay after dark

And stem that horror with a sweep of their swords.

And then, in the morning, this mead-hall glittering

With new light would be drenched with blood, the

benches

220 Stained red, the floors, all wet from that fiend's

Savage assault—and my soldiers would be fewer

Still, death taking more and more.

But to table, Beowulf, a banquet in your honor:

Let us toast your victories, and talk of the future."

225 Then Hrothgar's men gave places to the Geats,

Yielded benches to the brave visitors

And led them to the feast. The keeper of the mead

Came carrying out the carved flasks,

And poured that bright sweetness. A poet

230 Sang, from time to time, in a clear

Pure voice. Danes and visiting Geats

Celebrated as one, drank and rejoiced.

Unferth's Challenge

Unferth spoke, Ecglafs son,

Who sat at Hrothgar's feet, spoke harshly

235 And sharp (vexed by Beowulf s adventure,

By their visitor's courage, and angry that anyone

In Denmark or anywhere on earth had ever

Acquired glory and fame greater

Than his own):"You're Beowulf, are you—the same

240 Boastful fool who fought a swimming

Match with Brecca, both of you daring

And young and proud, exploring the deepest

Beowulf 21

"-

Seas, risking your lives for no reasonBut the danger? All older and wiser heads warned you

245 Not to, but no one could check such pride.With Brecca at your side you swam alongThe sea-paths, your swift-moving hands pulling youOver the ocean's face. Then winterChurned through the water, the waves ran you

250 As they willed, and you struggled seven long nightsTo survive. And at the end victory was his,Not yours. The sea carried him closeTo his home, to southern Norway, nearThe land of the Brondings, where he ruled and was

loved,Where his treasure was piled and his strength

255 protectedHis towns and his people. He'd promised to outswim

you:Bonstan's son0 made that boast ring true.You've been lucky in your battles, Beowulf, but I thinkYour luck may change if you challenge Grendel,

260 Staying a whole night through in this hall,Waiting where that fiercest of demons can find you."

Beowulf answered, Edgetho's great son:"Ah! Unferth, my friend, your face

Is hot with ale, and your tongue has tried265 To tell us about Brecca's doings. But the truth

Is simple: no man swims in the seaAs I can, no strength is a match for mine.As boys, Brecca and I had boasted—We were both too young to know better—that we'd risk

270 Our lives far out at sea, and soWe did. Each of us carried a nakedSword, prepared for whales or the swiftSharp teeth and beaks of needlefish.He could never leave me behind, swim faster

275 Across the waves than I could, and IHad chosen to remain close to his side.I remained near him for five long nights,Until a flood swept us apart;The frozen sea surged around me,

280 It grew dark, the wind turned bitter, blowingFrom the north, and the waves were savage. CreaturesWho sleep deep in the sea were stirredInto life—and the iron hammered linksOf my mail shirt, these shining bits of metal

285 Woven across my breast, saved meFrom death. A monster seized me, drew meSwiftly toward the bottom, swimming with its clawsTight in my flesh. But fate let meFind its heart with my sword, hack myself

290 Free; I fought that beast's last battle,Left it floating lifeless in the sea.

257. Bonstan's son: Brecca's father wasBonstan.

Anglo-Saxon gold buckle. SuttonHoo Ship treasure (7th century).

British Museum.

22 The Anglo-Saxons

"Other monsters crowded around me,Continually attacking. I treated them politely,Offering the edge of my razor-sharp sword.

295 But the feast, I think, did not please them, filledTheir evil bellies with no banquet-rich food,Thrashing there at the bottom of the sea;By morning they'd decided to sleep on the shore,Lying on their backs, their blood spilled out

300 On the sand. Afterwards, sailors could crossThat sea-road and feel no fear; nothingWould stop their passing. Then God's bright beaconAppeared in the east, the water lay still,And at last I could see the land, wind-swept

305 Cliff walls at the edge of the coast. Fate savesThe living when they drive away death by themselves!Lucky or not, nine was the numberOf sea-huge monsters I killed. What man,Anywhere under Heaven's high arch, has fought

310 In such darkness, endured more misery or been harderPressed? Yet I survived the sea, smashedThe monsters' hot jaws, swam home from my journey.The swift-flowing waters swept me alongAnd I landed on Finnish soil. I've heard

315 No tales of you, Unferth, tellingOf such clashing terror, such contests in the night!Brecca's battles were never so bold;Neither he nor you can match me—and I meanNo boast, have announced no more than I knowTo be true. And there's more: you murdered your

320 brothers,Your own close kin. Words and bright witWon't help your soul; you'll suffer hell's fires,Unferth, forever tormented. Ecglaf sProud son, if your hands were as hard, your heart

325 As fierce as you think it, no fool would dareTo raid your hall, ruin HerotAnd oppress its prince, as Grendel has done.But he's learned that terror is his alone,Discovered he can come for your people with no fear

330 Of reprisal; he's found no fighting, here,But only food, only delight.He murders as he likes, with no mercy, gorgesAnd feasts on your flesh, and expects no trouble,No quarrel from the quiet Danes. Now

335 The Geats will show him courage, soonHe can test his strength in battle. And when the sunComes up again, opening anotherBright day from the south, anyone in DenmarkMay enter this hall: that evil will be gone!"

340 Hrothgar, gray-haired and brave, sat happilyListening, the famous ring-giver sure,

Beowulf 23

At last, that Grendel could be killed; he believedIn Beowulf s bold strength and the firmness of his

spirit.There was the sound of laughter, and the cheerful

clanking345 Of cups, and pleasant words. Then Welthow,

Hrothgar's gold-ringed queen, greetedThe warriors; a noble woman who knewWhat was right, she raised a flowing cupTo Hrothgar first, holding it high

350 For the lord of the Danes to drink, wishing himJoy in that feast. The famous kingDrank with pleasure and blessed their banquet.Then Welthow went from warrior to warrior,Pouring a portion from the jeweled cup

355 For each, till the bracelet-wearing queenHad carried the mead-cup among them and it was

Beowulf sTurn to be served. She saluted the Geats'Great prince, thanked God for answering her prayers,For allowing her hands the happy duty

360 Of offering mead to a hero who would helpHer afflicted people. He drank what she poured,Edgetho's brave son, then assured the DanishQueen that his heart was firm and his handsReady:

"When we crossed the sea, my comrades365 And I, I already knew that all

My purpose was this: to win the good willOf your people or die in battle, pressedIn Grendel's fierce grip. Let me live in greatnessAnd courage, or here in this hall welcome

370 My death!"Welthow was pleased with his words,

His bright-tongued boasts; she carried them backTo her lord, walked nobly across to his side.

The feast went on, laughter and musicAnd the brave words of warriors celebrating

375 Their delight. Then Hrothgar rose, Healfdane'sSon, heavy with sleep; as soonAs the sun had gone, he knew that GrendelWould come to Herot, would visit that hallWhen night had covered the earth with its net

380 And the shapes of darkness moved black and silentThrough the world. Hrothgar's warriors rose with him.

He went to Beowulf, embraced the Geats'Brave prince, wished him well, and hopedThat Herot would be his to command. And then

385 He declared:

"No one strange to this landHas ever been granted what I've given you,No one in all the years of my rule.

24 The Anglo-Saxons

Two drinking horns. Sutton HooShip treasure (7th century).

British Museum.

390

Make this best of all mead-halls yours, and thenKeep it free of evil, fightWith glory in your heart! Purge HerotAnd your ship will sail home with its treasure-holds

full."

The feast ends. Beowulf and his men take the place of Hrothgar' sfollowers and lie down to sleep in Herot. Beowulf, however, is

wakeful, eager to meet his enemy.

The Battle with Grendel

8

Out from the marsh, from the foot of mistyHills and bogs, bearing God's hatred,Grendel came, hoping to kill

395 Anyone he could trap on this trip to high Herot.He moved quickly through the cloudy night,Up from his swampland, sliding silentlyToward that gold-shining hall. He had visited Hrothgar'sHome before, knew the way —

400 But never, before nor after that night,Found Herot defended so firmly, his receptionSo harsh. He journeyed, forever joyless,Straight to the door, then snapped it open,Tore its iron fasteners with a touch

405 And rushed angrily over the threshold,He strode quickly across the inlaidFloor, snarling and fierce: his eyesGleamed in the darkness, burned with a gruesomeLight. Then he stopped, seeing the hall

410 Crowded with sleeping warriors, stuffedWith rows of young soldiers resting together.And his heart laughed, he relished the sight,Intended to tear the life from those bodiesBy morning; the monster's mind was hot

415 With the thought of food and the feasting his bellyWould soon know. But fate, that night, intendedGrendel to gnaw the broken bonesOf his last human supper. HumanEyes were watching his evil steps,

420 Waiting to see his swift hard claws.Grendel snatched at the first GeatHe came to, ripped him apart, cutHis body to bits with powerful jaws,Drank the blood from his veins and bolted

425 Him down, hands and feet; deathAnd Grendel's great teeth came together,Snapping life shut. Then he stepped to anotherStill body, clutched at Beowulf with his claws,

Grasped at a strong-hearted wakeful sleeper430 — And was instantly seized himself, claws

Bent back as Beowulf leaned up on one arm.That shepherd of evil, guardian of crime,

Knew at once that nowhere on earthHad he met a man whose hands were harder;

435 His mind was flooded with fear — but nothingCould take his talons and himself from that tight

Gold ornament for a shield. SuttonHoo Ship treasure (7th century).

British Museum.

26 The Anglo-Saxons

Hard grip. Granders one thought was to runFrom Beowulf, flee back to his marsh and hide there:This was a different Herot than the hall he had emptied.

440 But Higlac's follower remembered his finalBoast and. standing erect, stoppedThe monster's flight., fastened those clawsIn his fists t i l l they cracked, clutched GrendelCloser. The infamous killer fought

445 For his freedom, wanting no flesh but retreat,Desiring nothing but escape; his clawsHad been caught, he was trapped. That trip to HerotWas a miserable journey for the writhing monster!

The high hall rang, its roof boards swayed,450 And Danes shook with terror. Down

The aisles the battle swept, angryAnd wild. Herot trembled, wonderfullyBuilt to withstand the blows, the strugglingGreat bodies beating at its beautiful walls;

455 Shaped and fastened with iron, insideAnd out, artfully worked, the buildingStood firm. Its benches rattled, fellTo the floor, gold-covered boards gratingAs Grendel and Beowulf battled across them.

460 Hrothgar's wise men had fashioned HerotTo stand forever; only fire,They had planned, could shatter what such skill had putTogether, swallow in hot flames such splendorOf ivory and iron and wood. Suddenly

465 The sounds changed, the Danes startedIn new terror, cowering in their beds as the terribleScreams of the Almighty's enemy sangIn the darkness, the horrible shrieks of painAnd defeat, the tears torn out of Grendel's

470 Taut throat, hell's captive caught in the armsOf him who of all the men on earthWas the strongest.

That mighty protector of menMeant to hold the monster till its lifeLeaped out, knowing the fiend was no use

475 To anyone in Denmark. All of Beowulf sBand had jumped from their beds, ancestralSwords raised and ready, determinedTo protect their prince if they could. Their courageWas great but all wasted: they could hack at Grendel

480 From every side, trying to openA path for his evil soul, but their pointsCould not hurt him, the sharpest and hardest ironCould not scratch at his skin, for that sin-stained demonHad bewitched all men's weapons, laid spells

I

Beowulf 27

485 That blunted every mortal man's blade.And yet his time had come, his daysWere over, his death near; downTo hell he would go, swept groaning and helplessTo the waiting hands of still worse fiends.

490 Now he discovered—once the afflictorOf men, tormentor of their days—what it meantTo feud with Almighty God: GrendelSaw that his strength was deserting him, his clawsBound fast, Higlac's brave follower tearing at

495 His hands. The monster's hatred rose higher,But his power had gone. He twisted in pain,And the bleeding sinews deep in his shoulderSnapped, muscle and bone splitAnd broke. The battle was over, Beowulf

500 Had been granted new glory: Grendel escaped,But wounded as he was could flee to his den,His miserable hole at the bottom of the marsh,Only to die, to wait for the endOf all his days. And after that bloody

505 Combat the Danes laughed with delight.He who had come to them from across the sea,Bold and strong-minded, had driven afflictionOff, purged Herot clean. He was happy,Now, with that night's fierce work; the DanesHad been served as he'd boasted he'd serve them;

510 Beowulf,A prince of the Geats, had killed Grendel,Ended the grief, the sorrow, the sufferingForced on Hrothgar's helpless peopleBy a bloodthirsty fiend. No Dane doubted

515 The victory, for the proof, hanging highFrom the rafters where Beowulf had hung it, was the

monster'sArm, claw and shoulder and all.

10

And then, in the morning, crowds surroundedHerot, warriors coming to that hall

520 From faraway lands, princes and leadersOf men hurrying to behold the monster'sGreat staggering tracks. They gaped with no senseOf sorrow, felt no regret for his suffering,Went tracing his bloody footprints, his beaten

525 And lonely flight, to the edge of the lakeWhere he'd dragged his corpselike way, doomedAnd already weary of his vanishing life.The water was bloody, steaming and boilingIn horrible pounding waves, heat

530 Sucked from his magic veins; but the swirlingSurf had covered his death, hidden

28 The Anglo-Saxons

535

54°

Deep in murky darkness his miserableEnd, as hell opened to receive him.

Then old and young rejoiced, turned backFrom that happy pilgrimage, mounted their hard-

hooved

Horses, high-spirited stallions, and rode themSlowly toward Herot again, retelling

Beowulf s bravery as they jogged along.And over and over they swore that nowhereOn earth or under the spreading skyOr between the seas, neither south nor north,Was there a warrior worthier to rule over men.(But no one meant Beowulf s praise to belittleHrothgar, their kind and gracious king!)

Grendel's monster mother, in grief for her son, next attacks

Herot, and in her dripping claws carries off one man—Hrothgar'sclosest friend. The monster also carries off Grendel's arm, which

Beowulf had hung high from the rafters. Beowulf is awakenedand called for again. In one of the most famous verses in the

epic, the old king describes where Grendel and his mother are

said to live.

11

545 "They live in secret places, windyCliffs, wolf-dens where water poursFrom the rocks, then runs underground, where mistSteams like black clouds, and the groves of treesGrowing out over their lake are all covered

550 With frozen spray, and wind down snakelikeRoots that reach as far as the waterAnd help keep it dark. At night that lakeBurns like a torch. No one knows its bottom,No wisdom reaches such depths. A deer,

555 Hunted through the woods by packs of hounds,A stage with great horns, though driven through the

forestFrom faraway places, prefers to dieOn those shores, refuses to save its lifeIn that water. It isn't far, nor is it

560 A pleasant spot! When the wind stirsAnd storms, waves splash toward the sky,As dark as the air, as black as the rainThat the heavens weep. Our only help,Again, lies with you. Grendel's mother

565 Is hidden in her terrible home, in a placeYou've not seen. Seek it, if you dare! Save us,Once more, and again twisted gold,Heaped-up ancient treasure, will reward youFor the battle you win!"

Beowulf 29

575

580

585

Carrying the sword Hrunting, Beowulf goes to the lake where

the monster's mother has her underwater lair. Then, fully armed,

he makes a heroic dive to the depths of this watery Hell.

The Monster's Mother

12

570 He leaped into the lake, would not wait for anyone'sAnswer; the heaving water covered himOver. For hours he sank through the waves;At last he saw the mud of the bottom.And all at once the greedy she-wolfWho'd ruled those waters for half a hundredYears discovered him, saw that a creatureFrom above had come to explore the bottomOf her wet world. She welcomed him in her claws,Clutched at him savagely but could not harm him,Tried to work her fingers through the tightRing-woven mail on his breast, but toreAnd scratched in vain. Then she carried him, armorAnd sword and all, to her home; he struggledTo free his weapon, and failed. The fightBrought other monsters swimming to seeHer catch, a host of sea beasts who beat atHis mail shirt, stabbing with tusks and teethAs they followed along. Then he realized, suddenly,That she'd brought him into someone's battle hall,

590 And there the water's heat could not jiurt him,Nor anything in the lake attack him throughThe building's high-arching roof. A brilliantLight burned all around him, the lakeItself like a fiery flame.

Then he saw595 The mighty water witch, and swung his sword,

His ring-marked blade, straight at her head;The iron sang its fierce song,Sang Beowulf's strength. But her guestDiscovered that no sword could slice her evil

600 Skin, that Hrunting could not hurt her, was uselessNow when he needed it. They wrestled, she ripped

And tore and clawed at him, bit holes in his helmet,And that too failed him; for the first time in yearsOf being worn to war it would earn no glory;

605 It was the last time anyone would wear it. But BeowulfLonged only for fame, leaped backInto battle. He tossed his sword aside,Angry; the steel-edged blade lay whereHe'd dropped it. If weapons were useless he'd use

610 His hands, the strength in his fingers. So fameComes to the men who mean to win itAnd care about nothing else! He raised

Swedish sword (10th century).

Statens Historiska Museer,Stockholm.

Beowulf 31

His arms and seized her by the shoulder; angerDoubled his strength, he threw her to the floor.

615 She fell, Grendel's fierce mother, and the Geats'Proud prince was ready to leap on her. But she roseAt once and repaid him with her clutching claws,Wildly tearing at him. He was weary, that bestAnd strongest of soldiers; his feet stumbled

620 And in an instant she had him down, held helpless.Squatting with her weight on his stomach, she drewA dagger, brown with dried blood, and preparedTo avenge her only son. But he was stretchedOn his back, and her stabbing blade was blunted

625 By the woven mail shirt he wore on his chest.The hammered links held; the pointCould not touch him. He'd have traveled to the bottom

of the earth,Edgetho's son, and died there, if that shiningWoven metal had not helped — and Holy

630 God, who sent him victory, gave judgmentFor truth and right, Ruler of the Heavens,Once Beowulf was back on his feet and fighting.

13

Then he saw, hanging on the wall, a heavySword, hammered by giants, strong

635 And blessed with their magic, the best of all weaponsBut so massive that no ordinary man could liftIts carved and decorated length. He drew itFrom its scabbard, broke the chain on its hilt,And then, savage, now, angry

640 And desperate, lifted it high over his headAnd struck with all the strength he had left,Caught her in the neck and cut it through,Broke bones and all. Her body fellTo the floor, lifeless, the sword was wet

645 With her blood, and Beowulf rejoiced at the sight.The brilliant light shone, suddenly,

As though burning in that hall, and as bright as ,Heaven's

Own candle, lit in the sky. He lookedAt her home, then following along the wall

650 Went walking, his hands tight on the sword,His heart still angry. He was hunting anotherDead monster, and took his weapon with himFor final revenge against Grendel's viciousAttacks, his nighttime raids, over

655 And over, coming to Herot when Hrothgar'sMen slept, killing them in their beds,Eating some on the spot, fifteenOr more, and running to his loathsome moorWith another such sickening meal waiting

32 The Anglo-Saxons

660 In his pouch. But Beowulf repaid him for those visits,Found him lying dead in his corner,Armless, exactly as that fierce fighterHad sent him out from Herot, then struck off

His head with a single swift blow. The body665 Jerked for the last time, then lay still.

Beowulf carries the head of Grendel to King Hrothgar and then

returns gift-laden to the land of the Geats, where he succeeds to

the throne. After fifty winters pass, Beowulf, now an old man,

faces his final task: He must fight a dragon who, angry because

a thief had stolen a jeweled cup from its hoard of gold, is layingwaste to the Geats' land. Beowulf and eleven warriors are guided

to the dragon's lair by the thief who stole the cup. For Beowulf,the price of this last victory will be great.

The hero Sigurd battling thedragon. Detail of a carvedportal of Hyllestad Stave-Church,Setesdal, Norway (12th century).

Universitetets, Oldsaksamling,Oslo.

Beowulf 33

The Final Battle

14

Then he said farewell to his followers,Each in his turn, for the last time:

"I'd use no sword, no weapon, if this beastCould be killed without it, crushed to death

670 Like Grendel, gripped in my hands and tornLimb from limb. But his breath will be burningHot, poison will pour from his tongue.I feel no shame, with shield and swordAnd armor, against this monster: when he comes to me

675 I mean to stand, not run from his shootingFlames, stand till fate decidesWhich of us wins. My heart is firm,My hands calm: I need no hotWords. Wait for me close by, my friends.

680 We shall see, soon, who will surviveThis bloody battle, stand when the fightingIs done. No one else could doWhat I mean to, here, no man but meCould hope to defeat this monster. No one

685 Could try. And this dragon's treasure, his goldAnd everything hidden in that tower, will be mineOr war will sweep me to a bitter death!"

Then Beowulf rose, still brave, still strongAnd with his shield at his side, and a mail shirt on his

breast,690 Strode calmly, confidently, toward the tower, under

The rocky cliffs: no coward could have walked there!And then he who'd endured dozens of desperateBattles, who'd stood boldly while swords and shieldsClashed, the best of kings, saw

695 Huge stone arches and felt the heatOf the dragon's breath, flooding downThrough the hidden entrance, too hot for anyoneTo stand, a streaming current of fireAnd smoke that blocked all passage. And the Geats'

700 Lord and leader, angry, loweredHis sword and roared out a battle cry,A call so loud and clear that it reached throughThe hoary rock, hung in the dragon'sEar. The beast rose, angry,

705 Knowing a man had come—and then nothingBut war could have followed. Its breath came first.A steaming cloud pouring from the stone,Then the earth itself shook. BeowulfSwung his shield into place, held it

710 In front of him, facing the entrance. The dragonCoiled and uncoiled, its heart urging itInto battle. Beowulf s ancient sword

34 The Anglo-Saxons

Celtic bronze shield (1st century).

British Museum.

I

715

720

725

730

735

740

745

750

755

76o

Was waiting, unsheathed, his sharp and gleaming

Blade. The beast came closer; both of themWere ready, each set on slaughter. The Geats'

Great prince stood firm, unmoving, prepared

Behind his high shield, waiting in his shiningArmor. The monster came quickly toward him,

Pouring out fire and smoke, hurryingTo its fate. Flames beat at the iron

Shield, and for a time it held, protected

Beowulf as he'd planned; then it began to melt,And for the first time in his life that famous prince

Fought with fate against him, with glory

Denied him. He knew it, but he raised his sword

And struck at the dragon's scaly hide.

The ancient blade broke, bit intoThe monster's skin, drew blood, but cracked

And failed him before it went deep enough, helped him

Less than he needed. The dragon leaped

With pain, thrashed and beat at him, spoutingMurderous flames, spreading them everywhere.

And the Geats' ring-giver did not boast of gloriousVictories in other wars: his weapon

Had failed him, deserted him, now when he needed itMost, that excellent sword. Edgetho's

Famous son stared at death,

Unwilling to leave this world, to exchange it

For a dwelling in some distant place—a journey

Into darkness that all men must make, as deathEnds their few brief hours on earth.

Quickly, the dragon came at him, encouraged

As Beowulf fell back; its breath flared,And he suffered, wrapped around in swirling

Flames—a king, before, but now

A beaten warrior. None of his comrades

Came to him, helped him, his brave and nobleFollowers; they ran for their lives, fled

Deep in a wood. And only one of themRemained, stood there, miserable, remembering,

As a good man must, what kinship should mean. . . .

15

His name was Wiglaf, he was Wexstan's son

And a good soldier; his family had been Swedish,Once. Watching Beowulf, he could see

How his king was suffering, burning. Remembering

Everything his lord and cousin had given him,Armor and gold and the great estates

Wexstan's family enjoyed, Wiglaf s

Mind was made up; he raised his yellowShield and drew his sword . . . .

Beowulf 35

And Wiglaf, his heart heavy, utteredThe kind of words his comrades deserved:

"I remember how we sat in the mead-hall, drinkingAnd boasting of how brave we'd be when Beowulf

765 Needed us, he who gave us these swordsAnd armor: all of us swore to repay him,When the time came, kindness for kindness—With our lives, if he needed them. He allowed us to

join him,Chose us from all his great army, thinking

770 Our boasting words had some weight, believingOur promises, trusting our swords. He took usFor soldiers, for men. He meant to killThis monster himself, our mighty king,Fight this battle alone and unaided,

775 As in the days when his strength and daring dazzledMen's eyes. But those days are over and goneAnd now our lord must lean on youngerArms. And we must go to him, while angryFlames burn at his flesh, help

780 Our glorious king! By almighty God,I'd rather burn myself than seeFlames swirling around my lord.And who are we to carry homeOur shields before we've slain his enemy

785 And ours, to run back to our homes with BeowulfSo hard-pressed here? I swear that nothingHe ever did deserved an endLike this, dying miserably and alone,Butchered by this savage beast: we swore

790 That these swords and armor were each for us all!". . .

Together, Beowulf and the young Wiglaf kill the dragon, but theold king is fatally wounded. Beowulf, thinking of his people, asksto see the monster's treasure. Wiglaf enters the dragon's caveand finds a priceless hoard of jewels and gold.

16

Then Wiglaf went back, anxiousTo return while Beowulf was alive, to bring himTreasure they'd won together. He ran,Hoping his wounded king, weak

795 And dying, had not left the world too soon.Then he brought their treasure to Beowulf, and foundHis famous king bloody, gaspingFor breath. But Wiglaf sprinkled waterOver his lord, until the words

800 Deep in his breast broke through and were heard.Beholding the treasure he spoke, haltingly:

36 The Anglo-Saxons

"For this, this gold, these jewels, I thank

Our Father in Heaven, Ruler of the Earth—

For all of this, that His grace has given me,

805 Allowed me to bring to my people while breath

Still came to my lips. I sold my life

For this treasure, and I sold it well. Take

What I leave, Wiglaf, lead my people,

Help them; my time is gone. Have

810 The brave Geats build me a tomb,

When the funeral flames have burned me, and build it

Here, at the water's edge, high

On this spit of land, so sailors can seeThis tower, and remember my name, and call it

815 Beowulf s tower, and boats in the darkness

And mist, crossing the sea, will know it."

Then that brave king gave the golden

Necklace from around his throat to Wiglaf,

Gave him his gold-covered helmet, and his rings,

820 And his mail shirt, and ordered him to use them well:

"You're the last of all our far-flung family.

Fate has swept our race away,

Taken warriors in their strength and led them

To the death that was waiting. And now I follow them."

825 The old man's mouth was silent, spoke

No more, had said as much as it could;

He would sleep in the fire, soon. His soul

Left his flesh, flew to glory.

Wiglaf berates the faithless warriors who had not gone to the

aid of their king. With sorrow, the Geats then cremate the corpse

of their greatest king. They place his ashes, along with all of the

dragon's treasure, in a huge burial mound by the sea, where it

can be seen by voyagers.

17

And then twelve of the bravest Geats

830 Rode their horses around the tower,

Telling their sorrow, telling stories

Of their dead king and his greatness, his glory,

Praising him for heroic deeds, for a life

As noble as his name. So should all men

835 Raise up words for their lords, warm

With love, when their shield and protector leaves

His body behind, sends his soul

On high. And so Beowulf s followers

Rode, mourning their beloved leader,

840 Crying that no better king had ever

Lived, no prince so mild, no man

So open to his people, so deserving of praise.

Swedish gold collar (6th century).

Statens Historiska Museer,Stockholm.

Beowulf 37