Beowulf - Unknown Author

him gifts. A good king he to him an heir was afterward born a son in his halls, whom Heaven sent to favor the folk. Feeling there woe that erst they had lacked an earl for leader so long a while, the Lord endowed him with wielder of wonder, with worlds renowned famed was this Beowulf far flew the boast of

him son of skilled in the Scandian lands. So becomes it a youth to quit him well with his father's friends by fee and gift that to aid him aged in after days come warriors willing should war draw nigh liege men loyal by lauded deeds, shall an earl have honor in every clan. Fourth he fared at the fated moment, sturdy, skilled to the shelter of God. Then they bore him over the ocean's billow loving clansmen. As late he charged

them while wielded words. The winsome skilled, the leader beloved, who long had ruled in the roadstead rocked a ring dight vessel ice flecked outbound etheling's barge. There laid they down their darling lord on the breast of the boat, the breaker of rings by the mast. The mighty one, many treasure fetched from far, was freighted with him. No ship have I known so nobly dight with weapons of war and weeds of battle, with breast plate and blade on his bosom, lay a heaped hoard, that hence should

go far o'er the flood, with him floating away. No less these loaded the lordly gifts Thanes huge treasure than those had done who in former time forth had sent him soul on the seas a suckling child high o'er his head. They hoist the standard a gold wove banner. Let billows take him gave him to ocean grave. Were their spirits mournful their mood No man is able to say in sooth, no son of the halls, no hero neath heaven, who harbored that freight. Now Beowulf bode in

the burg of the Skildings, leader, beloved and long. He ruled in fame with all folk, since his father had gone away from the world, till awoke an heir, haughty health dane, who held through life sage and sturdy the Skildings glad. Then one after one there woke to him, to the chieftain of clansmen children four hey o Agar, then Hrothgar, then Halga brave, And I heard that Blank

was Blank's queen. The hartho Skilfings help mate dear to Rothsgar was given such glory of war, such honor of combat, that all his kin obeyed him gladly, till great grew his band of youthful comrades. It came in his mind to bid his henchmen a hall uprear, a master mead house mightier far than ever was seen by the sons of earth, and within it. Then to old and young he would all alot that the Lord had sent him, save only the land and the lives of his men.

Wide I heard was the work commanded for many a tribe, this mid earth, round to fashion the folkstead. It fell as he ordered, in rapid achievement. That ready it stood there of halls, the noblest herot he named it, whose message had might in many a land, not reckless of promise, the rings he dealt treasure at banquet. There towered the hall high, gabled wide, the hot surge waiting of furious flame.

Nor far was that day when father and son in law stood in feud for warfare and hatred, that woke again with envy and anger, and evil spirit endured the dole in his dark abode, that he heard each day the din of revel. High in the hall. Their harps rang out clear song of the singer he sang, who

knew tales of the early time of man. How the Almighty made the earth fairest fields enfolded by water, set triumphant sun and moon for a light to lighten the land dwellers, and braided bright the breast of earth with limbs and leaves, made life for all of mortal beings that breathe and move, So lived the clansmen in cheer and revel a winsome life till one began to fashion

evils that field of hell Grendell. This monster Grim was called march Reaver, mighty in Moorland, living in fen and fastness, fief of the giants, the hapless White a while had kept since the Creator his exile doomed on kin of Cain was the killing avenged by sovereign God for slaughtered able ill fared his feud, and far was he driven for the slaughter's sake. From sight of men of Cain awoke all that woeful breed etins and elves and evil spirits, as as well as the giants that warred with God.

Weary while but their wage was paid them, went he forth to find at fall of night that haughty house and heed, wherever the ring Danes out reveled to rest had gone. Found within it the atheling band, asleep after feasting, and fearless of sorrow of human hardship. Unhallowed, White, grim and greedy, he grasped betimes, wrathful, reckless, from resting places, thrifty of the thanes, And thence he rushed fain of his fell, spoil, faring homeward, laden with slaughter his lair

to seek. Then, at the dawning, as day was breaking, the might of Grendel to men was known. Then after Wasael was wail uplifted loud moan. In the morn the mighty chief, atheling, excellent, unblithe, sat labored in woe for the loss of his Thanes. When once had been traced the trail of the fiend. Spirit accursed too cruel, that sorrow too long, too loathsome not late the respite, with night returning, a new began ruthless murder. He wrecked no whit firm in his guilt of the feud and crime.

They were easy to find, who elsewhere sought in room remote their rest at night, bed in the bowers, When that bale was shown, was seen in sooth with shortest token the hall Fane's hate. Such held themselves far and fast. Who the fiend out ran, thus ruled unrighteous, and raged his fill one against all, until empty stood that lordly building, And long it bodes so twelve years tied the trouble he bore, sovereign of skildings, sorrows in plenty, boundless cares.

There came unhidden tidings true to the tribes of men in sorrowful songs. How ceaselessly Grendel grassed Hrothgar, What hate he bore him, what murder and massacre? Many a year feud unfading, refused consent to deal with any of Daneland's earls, make pact of peace, or compound for gold. Still less did the wise men ween to get great fee for

the feud from his fiendish hands. But the evil one ambushed ye old and young, death, shadow, dark and dogged them, still blured or lurked in the livelong night of misty. Morland's men may say not where the haunts of these hell roons be. Such heaping of horrors The hater of men, lonely Roamer wrought unceasing harassings heavy or herat he lorded gold bright hall in gloomy nights, And ne'er could the Prince approach his throne twas judgment of God, or have

joy in his hall. Sore was the sorrow to Skilding's friend heartre misery. Many nobles sat assembled and searched out counsel. How it were best for bold hearted men against harassing terror to try their hand whilst they vowed in their heathen fanes althar offerings, asked with words that the slayer of souls would succor give them for the pain of their people their practice. This their heathen hope. Twas hell

they thought of in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not doomsmen of deeds and dreadful Lord, nor Heaven's helmet heeded they, ever, wielder of wonder. Woe for that man who, in harm and hatred hails his soul to fiery embraces, nor favor nor change awaits he ever, but well for him, that after death day may draw to his lord and friendship find in the Father's arms. Thus seethed unceasing, the son of health Dane, with the woe

of these days. Not wisest men essaged his sorrow to sore or the anguish, loathly and long that lay on his folk, most baneful of burdens and bales of the night. This heard in his home Hegelock's, thean great among geats of Grendel's doings. He was the mightiest man of valor in that same day of this our life, stalwart and stately a stout wave walker, he bade make ready yon battle. King said he far o'er the swan road. He fain

would seek the noble monarch who needed men. The prince's journey by prudent folk was little blamed, though they loved him dear. They whetted the hero and hailed good omens. And now the bold one from bands of geats comrades chose the keenest of warriors ere he could find. With fourteen men the sea wood he sought, and sailor proved led them on to the land's confines. Time had now flown afloat was the ship boat under bluff. On board they climbed warriors ready. Waves were charning sea with sand.

The sailors bore on the breast of the bark their bright array, their mail and weapons. The men pushed off on its willing way. The well braced craft then moved o'er the waters by might of the wind that bark like a bird, with breast of foam, till in season dew. On the second day the curved prow such course had run that sailors now could see the land, sea cliffs shining,

steep high hills, headlands broad. Their haven was found. Their journey ended up then quickly the waders clansmen climbed ashore, anchored their sea wood with armor clashing and gear of battle. God they thanked for passing in peace o'er the paths of the sea. Now saw from the cliff a skilding clansman, a warden that watched the water side, how they bore o'er the gangway, glittering shields war gear. In readiness, wonder seized him to know what manner of men they were.

Straight to the strand his steed, he rode Hrothgar's henchmen with hand of might. He shook his spear and spake in parley, who are ye, then, ye armed men, mailed folk that yon mighty vessel have urged Thus over the ocean ways here o'er the waters. A warden I sentinel set o'er the sea march here, lest any foe to the folk of Danes, with harrying fleet should harm the land. No aliens ever at ease. Thus bore them linden wielders. Yet word of leave, clearly ye lack from clansmen. Here

my folk's agreement. A greater ne'er saw eye of warriors in world than is one of you Yon hero in harness, no henchmen, he worthied by weapons, if witness his features, his peerless presence. I pray you, though, tell your folk and home lest hens ye fair suspect to wander your way as spies in Danish land now dwellers Afar ocean travelers, take from me simple advice. The sooner the better I

hear of the country. Whence ye came to him, the stateliest spake in answer, the warrior's leader his word Horde unlocked. We are by kin of the clan of Geats, and Hagelac's own hearth fellows. We to folk Afar was my father known noble atheling eke thou named full of winters. He fared away aged from earth. He is honored still through width of the world by wise men, all to thy lord and liege in loyal mood. We hasten hither to helf Dane's son people protector, be pleased to advise

us to that mighty one. Come we on, Michel errand to the Lord of the Danes, nor dee my right that ought be hidden. We hear thou knowest if sooth it is the saying of men that amid the Skildings, a scathing monster, dark ill doer in dusky nights, shows terrific his rage, unmatched hatred and murder to Hrothgar, I, in greatness of soul, would succor bring so the wise

and brave may worst his foes. If ever the end of ills is fated of cruel contest, If cure shall follow and the boiling care waves cooler grow, else ever, afterward anguish days, he shall suffer in sorrow while stands in place high on its hill that house unpeered astride his steed, the strand ward answered clansmen unquailing. The keen, souled fane must be skilled to sever and sunder duly words and works. If he well intends, I gather this

band is graciously bent to the Skilding's master. March then bearing weapons and weeds the way I show you. I will bid my men your boat meanwhile to guard for fear lest foemen come your new tarred ship by shore of ocean, faithfully watching till once again it waft o'er the waters. These well loved veanes, winding necked wood to waders bounds heroes such as the hest of fate shall succor and save from the shock of war. They bent them to march. The boat lay still fettered by cable

and fast at anchor. Broad bosomed ship then shone the boors over the cheek guard chased with gold, keen and gleaming guard. It kept o'er the man of war. As marched along heroes in haste till the hall. They saw broad of gable and bright with gold. That was the fairest mid folk of Earth, of houses neath heaven where Hrothgar lived, And the gleam of it lightened o'er lands afar. The sturdy shieldsman showed that bright burg of the boldest

bade them go straightway hither. Steed then turned hardy hero and hailed them. Thus tis time that I fare from you, Father, Almighty and grace and mercy, guard you well safe in your seekings, seaward I go against hostile warriors. Hold my watch. End of section one, Section two. Stone bright the street, it showed the way to the crowd of clansmen, corselets glistened, hand forged hard on their harness, bright the steel ring sang as they strode along in mail of battle, and

marched to the hall. There weary of ocean the wall along. They set their bucklers, their broad shields down, and bowed them to bench. The breastplates clanged war gear of men, their weapons stacked, spears of the seafarers stood together. Gray tipped that iron band, and was worthily weaponed. A warrior

proud asked of the heroes their home and kin. Whence now bear ye burnished shields, harness, gray and helmet's grim spears in multitude, Messenger, I Hrothgar's herald heroes, so many ne'er met I as strangers of mood, so strong tis plain for that prowess, not plunged into exile, for high hearted valor Hrothgar, Ye seek him the sturdy in war. Bespake with words, proud earl of the Wedd'er's answer, Maid Hardy neath helmet haiglachs wee fellows at board. I am

Beowulf named. I am seeking to say to the son of half Dane, this mission of mine to thy master lord, the doughty Prince. If he deign at all grace, that we greet him the good one. Now, Wulfgar spake, the Wendell's chieftain, whose might of mind to many was known his courage and counsel, the King of Danes, the Skilding's friend, I fain will tell the breaker of rings as the boon. Thou askest the famed prince of thy faring hither and swiftly after such answer, bring as the doughty monarch may

deign to give hide. Then in haste to where Hrothgar sat, white haired and old his earls about him, till the stout fine stood at the shoulder there of the Danish king, good courtier. He Wulfgar spake to his winsome lord, hither have fared to thee far come men o'er the paths of ocean, people of Geatland, and the stateliest there by his sturdy band is Beowulf, named this boon. They seek that they, my master, may with thee have speech at will,

nor spurn their prayer to give them hearing. Gracious Wrothgar, in we of the warrior worthy. They methinks of our liking their leader most surely a hero that hither his henchman has led. Hrothgar answered, helmet of Skildings. I knew him of yore in his youthful days. His aged father was ec Thou named to whom at home gave Hrethel the Geat his only daughter, their offspring Bold fares hither to seek the steadfast friend. And seamen too have sed me this who carried my gifts to the Geatish court.

Thither for thanks he has thirty men's heft of grasp in the grip of his hand. The bold in battle blessed God out of his mercy. This man hath sent to Danes of the west, as I ween, indeed, against horror of Grendel, I hope to give the good youth gold for his gallant thought. Be thou in haste, and bid them hither, clan of kinsmen, to come before me, and add this word. They are welcome guests to folk

of the Danes. To the door of the hall, Wulfgar went, and the word declared to you this message my master sends east Danes, king that your kin he knows hardy heroes, and hails you all. Welcome hither o'er waves of the sea. Ye may wend your way in war attire and under helmets Hrothgar greet. But let here the battle shields bide your parley, and wooden war shafts wait its end up rose the mighty one ringed with his men, brave band of Thanes. Some bode without battle gear, guarding, as bade

the chief. Then hide that troop where the herald led them under Herod's roof. The hero strode hardy meaf helm till the hearth he near'd Beowulf spake his breastplate gleamed war net woe by wit of the smith, Thou Hrothgar, Hail Hagilax, I kinsman and follower, fame a plenty have I gained in youth These grendel deeds I heard in my homeland. Heralded clear sea farers say, how stands this hall of building's best for your band of Thanes? Empty and idle when evening sun in the harbor of heaven

is hidden away. So my vassals advised me, well, brave and wise, the best of men, O sovereign Hrothgar, to seek thee here for my nerve and my might. They knew full well themselves had seen me from slaughter, come, blood flecked from foes where five I bound, and that wild brew worsted I the waves. I slew nikors by night, in need and peril, avenging the waiters whose woe they sought, crushing the grim ones grendel. Now monster cruel be mine

to quell in single battle. So from thee thou, sovereign of the Shining Danes, Skilding's bulwark a boon I seek, and friend of the folk, refuse it, not o warrior's shield. Now I've wandered far that I alone with my liegemen here this hardy band, may herot purge. More I hear that the monster dire in his wanton mood of weapons recks not hence shall I scorn, so hide gluck stay, king of my kindred kind to me brand or buckler

to bear in the fight gold colored targe. But with grip alone, must I front the fiend and fight for life foe against foe. Then faith be his in the doom of the lord whom death shall take. Fain I ween if the fight he win in this hall of gold my geatish band, will he fearless eat as oft before my noblest thanes, nor need'st thou then to hide my head for his? Shall I be died in gore?

If death must take me and my blood cover'd body, he'll bear as prey, ruthless devour it the roamer lonely with my life blood redden his lair in the fen. No further for me needs food, prepare to Hagelock's end, if Hill'd should take me best of war weeds warding my breast armor excellent heirloom of Hrethel and work of wheland Fair's weird as she must. Hrothgar spake the Skilding's helmet for fight. Defensive friend, my Beowulf, to succor and

save thou hast sought us here thy father's combat. A feud enkindled when Haathelof with hand, he slew among the Wilfings his waider kin for horror of fighting, fear'd to hold him. Fleeing, he sought our south Dane over surge of ocean, the honor Skildings. When first I was ruling, the folk of Danes wielded youthful, this widespread realm, this hoard hold of heroes. Hey Oigar was dead. My elder

brother had breathed his last half danes Bairn. He was better than I. Straightway the feud with fee I settled to the Wilfing scent o'er watery ridges treasures olden oath, he swore me. Sore is my soul to say to any of the race of man, what ruth for me? And harot? Grendel, with hate hath wrought what sudden harryings haul folk fail me, My warriors wane, for weird hath swept them into Grendel's grasp. But God is able this deadly foe from his deeds to turn boasted full oft

as my beer. They drank earls o'er the ale cup, armed men that they would bide in the beer hall. Here Grendel's attack with terror of blades. Then was this mead house at morning tide died with gore. When the daylight broke, all the boards of the benches blood besprinkled gory the hall. I had heroes, the less doughty, dear ones that death had reft. But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words, hardy hero as heart shall prompt. Thee gathered together the Geatish men in the banquet hall, on

bench assigned sturdy spirited, sat them down, hardy hearted. A henchman attended, carried the carven cup in hand, served the clear mead oft minstrel sang blythe in herot heroes reveled no dearth of warriors. Waiter and Dane unfaith spake the son of Ecglaff, who sat at the feet of the Skilding's lord, unbound. The battle runs Beowulf's quest sturdy seafarers sorely galled him. Ever, he envied that other men should more achieve in Middle Earth of fame under heaven than

he himself. Art thou that Beowulf, Breca's rival, who emulous swam on the open sea, when for pride the pair of you proved the floods, and wantonly dared in waters deep to risk your lives. No living man, or leaf or loath from your labor dire could you dissuade from swimming the main ocean tides with your arms. Ye cover'd with strenuous hands. The sea streets measured swam o'er the waters. Winter's storm rolled the rough waves in realm of sea, A senite strove Ye in swimming he topped thee had

more of Maine him. At morning tide, Billow's bore to the battling ramas. Whence he hied to his home. So dear beloved of his liegemen, to land of brondings, fastness, fair where his folk he ruled town and treasure. In triumph o'er thee Anstan's barn, his boast achieved, so ween I for thee a worse adventure. Though in buffet of battle, Thou brave hast been in struggle grim if Grendel's approach, Thou darest wait through the watch of night Berewolf spake

barn of ech Thou what a deal? Hast uttered dear my unferth, drunken with beer of Breca, now told of his triumph. Truth, I claim it that I had more of might in the sea than any man else more ocean endurance. We twain had talked in time of youth and made our boast. We were merely boys, stripling still to stake our lives far at sea, and so we performed it naked swords. As we swam along, we held in hand with hope to guard us against the whales. Not a whit from me could he float afar o'er

the flood of waves. Haste o'er the billows, nor him I abandoned. Together we twain on the tide's abode, five nights full till the flood divided us, churning waves and chillist weather. Darkling night, and the northern wind, ruthless, rushed on us. Rough was the surge. Now the wrath of the sea fish rose apace yet me against the monsters. My mailed coat, hard and hand linked help afforded battle.

Sark braided my breast to ward, garnished with gold, there grasped me firm and hailed me to bottom the hated foe with grimmest grip. Twas granted me though to pierce the monster with point of sword, with blade of battle. Huge beast of the sea was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine me. Thus often the evil monster's thronging threatened with thrust of my sword, the darling I dealt them due return. Nowise had they bliss from their

booty than to devour their victim. Vengeful creatures seated to banquet at bottom of sea. But at break of day my brand sore hurt on the edge of ocean. Up they lay put to sleep by the sword, and since by them on the fathomless sea ways, sailor folk are never molested. Light from east came bright God's beacon. The billows sank so that I saw the sea cliff's high, windy walls for weird oft saveth earl undoomed if he doughty be. And so it came that I kill'd with

my sword. Nine of the Nyikors of night fought battles. Ne'er heard I a harder neath Heaven's dome, nor adrift on the deep, a more desolate man. Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch, though spent with swimming the sea up bore me flood of the tide on Finnish land the welling waters. No wise of thee have I heard men tell such terror of falcians, bitter battle breca ne'er yet not one of you pair in the play of war such daring deed has done at all with

bloody brand. I boast not of it, though thou wast the bane of thy brethren, Dear, thy closest kin, whence curse of hell awaits thee well as thy wit may serve. For I say in sooth thou, son of Ecglaf, never had Grendel these grim deeds wrought monster dire on thy master, Dear in Harot, such havoc if heart of thine were as battle bold as thy boast is loud, But he has found no feud will happen from sword clash, dread

of your Danish clan. He vaunts him safe from the victor skildings, He forces, pledges, favors none of the land of Danes, but lustily murders, fights and feasts, nor feud he dreads from speared ane men. But speedily now shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats, shall bid him battle blithe to mead go he that listeth when light of dawn this marks orrow morning. O'er men of earth, ether robed sun from the south shall

beam joyous. Then was the jewel giver, hoar haired, war brave help awaited the bright Danes prince from Beowulf, hearing folks, good shepherd, such firm resolve. Then was laughter of Liegemen, loud, resounding with winsome words. Came wealthaw forth, Queen of Hrothgar, heedful of courtesy, gold decked, greeting the guests in hall, and the high born lady handed the cup first to

the east Danes. Heir and warden bade him be blithe at the beer carouse the land's beloved one lustily took he banquet and beaker battle famed king through the hall. Then went the helmings. Lady, too younger and older everywhere carried the cup till come the moment when the ring graced Queen the royal hearted to Beowulf bore the beaker of me. She greeted the Geat's Lord God. She thanked in wisdom's words that her will was granted, that at last on a hero her hope could lean for comfort

and terrors. The cup he took hardy in war from whale Thow's hand, and answer uttered the eager for combat. Beowulf spake, Baron of eck Thou, this was my thought, when my fanes and I bent to the ocean and entered our boat, that I would work the will of your people fully, or fighting fall in death in fiend's grip fast, I am firm to do an earl's brave deed, or end the days of this life of mine. In the mead hall here well these words to the woman

seemed Beowulf's battle boast bright with gold. The stately dame, by her spouse, sat down again as erst began in hall, warriors wassail and words of power the proud band's revel till presently the son of half Dane hastened to seek rest for the night. He knew there waited fight for the fiend in that festal hall. When the sheen of the sun they saw no more, and dusk of night sank, darkling nigh, and shadowy shapes came striding on Wan under Welkin.

The warriors rose man to man. He made harangue Hrothgar to Beowulf, bade him hail, let him wield the wine hall. A word, he added, never to any man, eerst I trusted since I could heave up hand and shield this noble Dane hall. Till now to thee, have now and hold this house unpeered. Remember thy glory, thy might declare, watch for the foe. No wish shall fail thee. If thou bidest the battle with bold one life and of section two Section three.

In truth, the Gheet's prince gladly trusted his mettle, his might, the mercy of God cast off, then his corselet of iron helmet from head to his henchmen, gave choicest of weapons, the well chased sword, bidding him guard the gear of battle.

Then the chieftain and cheek pillows held the head of the Earl, while all about him seamen hardy on ball beds sank. None of them thought that, thence their steps to the folk and fastness. It fostered them to the land they loved would lead them back full well. They wist that on warrior's many battle death seized in the banquet hall of Danish clan. But comfort and help war weal. Weaving to wade of folk, the master gave that by might have won over their enemy, all prevailed by single strength.

In sooth tis told that highest God o'er human kind hath wielded. Ever through one night striding came the walker in shadow. Warriors slept, whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, all save one. Twas widely known that against God's will, the ghostly ravager Hymn could not hurl to haunts of darkness. Wakeful ready with warrior's wrath, bold he

bided the battle's issue. Then from the moorland by misty crags, with God's ralph laden Grendel came the monster was minded of mankind, now sundry to seize in the stately house. Under welcome, he walked till the wine palace. There gold hall of men he gladly discerned, flashing with fretwork. Not first time this that he the home of Rothcar sought, Yet ne'er in his life, day late or early, such hardy heroes such hall Thanes found to the house. The

warrior walked apace, parted from peace. The portal opened it, though with forged bolts. Fast when his fist had struck it, and baleful, he burst in his blatant rage the house's mouth all hastily. Then o'er fair paved floor. The fiend trod on ireful. He strode there, streamed from his eyes fearful flashes like flame to see he spied in hall the hero band, kin and clansmen clustered asleep. Hardy liegemen.

Then laughed his heart, for the monster was minded ere morn, should dawn savage to sever the soul of each life from body, Since lustful Banquet waited his will, but weird forbade him to seize any more of men on earth. After that evening eagerly watched Heiglack's clansman, his cursed foe, how he would fare in fell attack, Not that the

monster was minded to pause straightway. He seized a sleeping warrior for the first and tore him fiercely asunder the bone frame, bit drank blood in streams, swallowed him piecemeal swiftly. Thus the lifeless course was clear, devoured e'n feet and hands. Then farther he hied for the hardy hero. With hand he grasped, felt for the foe, with fiendish claw for the hero, reclining, who clutched it boldly, prompt to answer,

propped on his arm. Soon then saw that shepherd of evils that never he met in this middle world in the ways of Earth, another white with heavier hand, gripe at heart he feared, sorrowed in soul none the sooner escaped. Fain would he flee his fastness, seek the den of devils. No doings now such as oft he had done in days of old. Then bethought him the hardy higlock, thane of his boasted evening. Up he bounded, grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked. The fiend made off, but the earl

close followed. The monster meant if he might at all, to fling himself free and far away, fly to the fence. Knew his fingers power in the gripe of the grim one, gruesome marsh to herod. This monster of harm had made Din filled the room. The Danes were bereft, castle dwellers and clansmen, All earls of their ale angry were both so savage hall guards the house resounded wonder it was the wine hall, firm, in the strain of their struggle, stood to earth. The fair house fell not too fast.

It was within and without by its iron bands, craftily clamped, though there crashed from sill. Many a mead bench men have told me, gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled, so well had weened the wisest sildings, that not ever at all might any man that bone decked brave house break asunder crush by craft, unless clasp of fire and

smoke engulfed it again. Uprose din redoubled, Danes of the north with fear and frenzy were filled each one who from the war that wailing heard God's foe sounding his grisly song, cry of the conquered, clamorous pain from captive of hell too closely held him, he who of men in might was strongest in that same day of this our life. Not in any wise would the Earl's defense suffer that slaughterrous stranger to live, unless dealing his days

and years to men on earth. Now many an earl of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral feigned the life of their lord to shield to their praise at Prince, if power were theirs. Never they knew as they neared the foe, hardy hearted heroes of war, aiming their swords on every side the accursed to kill. No keenest blade, no fairest of Fucians fashioned on earth could harm or hurt that hideous fiend. He was safe by his spells, from sword

of battle, from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting on that same day of this hour life woeful should be, and his wandering soul far off flit to the fiend's domain. Soon he found who in former days harmful in heart and hated of God. On many a man such murder wrought that the frame of his body failed him. Now for him, the keen, souled kinsman of higlack, held in hand, hateful alive was to each other, the

outlawed dire took mortal hurt. A mighty wound showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked in the bone frame burst to Beowulf. Now the glory was given, and Grendel, thence death, sick his den in the dark moor, sought noisome abode.

gripe neath the gabled roof. Many at morning, as men have told me, warriors gathered the gift hall round. Folk leaders faring from far and near o'er wide stretched ways the wonder to view traces of the traitor not troublous, seemed the enemy's end to any man who saw by the gait of the graceless foe. How the weary hearted away from thence baffled in battle and band his steps

death marked, dragged to the devil's near bloody. The billows were boiling there, turbid, the tide of tumbling waves, horribly seething with sword blood hot by that doomed one died, who, in den of the moor, laid forlorn his life. Are down his heathen soul, and Hell received it home. Then rode the hoary clansmen from that merry journey, and many a youth on horse whe the hardy warrior's back from

the mere. Then Beowulf's glory. Eager they echoed, and all averred that from sea to sea, or south or north, there was no other in Earth's domain under vault of Heaven more valiant found of warriors, none more worthy to rule on their lord beloved. They laid no slight gracious rofka a good king. He From time to time the tried in battle their gray steeds, set to gallop a main,

and ran a race when the road seemed fair. From time to time a fane of the king, who had made many vaunts, was mindful of verses stored with sagas and songs of old bound word to word in well knit rhyme, wielded his lay. This warrior soon of Beowulf's quest right cleverly sang and artfully added an excellent tale in well ranged words, of the warlike deeds he had

heard in Sagre of Sigamund. Strange the story, he said it all the walesings, wanderings wide, his struggles, which never were told to tribes of men, the feuds and the frauds, save to Fetella. Only when of these doings he deigned to speak uncle to nephew. As ever, the twain stood side by side in stress of war, and multitude of the monster kind they had felled with their swords. Of Sigamund grew when he passed from life no little praise for the doughty and combat. A dragon killed that herded

the Horde under hoary rock. The atheling dared the deed alone fearful quest, nor was for teller there. Yet so it befell his fortune. Pierced that wondrous worm on the wall, it struck best blade, the dragon died in its blood. Thus had the dread one, by daring, achieved over the Ringhorde to rule at will himself. To pleasure. A sea boat he loaded and bore on its bosom, the beaming

gold Son of Wales. The worm was consumed. He had, of all heroes the highest renown among races of men, this refuge of warriors for deeds of daring that decked his name. Since the hand and heart of Herremund grew slack in battle, he swiftly banished to mingle with monsters at mercy of foes to death was betrayed for torrents of sorrow had lamed him too long a mode of care to earls and bafflings. All he proved oft, indeed,

in earlier days for the warrior's wafaring. Wise men mourned, who had hoped of him help from harm and bail, and had thought their sovereign's son would thrive follow his father his folk protect the Horde and the stronghold hero's land, home of sildings. But here, faines, said the kinsmen of higlack kindess seemed to all. The other was urged to crime, and afresh to the race the fallow roads by swift steeds measured the morning sun was climbing higher. Clan's men

hastened to the high built wall. Those hearty minded the wonder to witness warden of treasure crowned with glory, the king himself with stately band from the bride bower Strode, and with him the Queen and her crowd of maidens measured the path to the mead house. Fair Rothgar spake to the hall. He went, stood by the steps the steep roof saw garnished with gold in Grendel's hand.

This hero, now, by the wielder's might, a work has done that not all of us erst could ever do by wilent wisdom. Lo well can she say, whoso of women this warrior bore among sons of men? If still she liveth that the God of the Ages was good to her in the birth of her bairn. Now Beowulf, thee of heroes, best I shall heartily love as mine own my son. Preserve thou. Ever this kinship knew, Thou shalt never lack wealth of the world that I wield

as mine full of. For less have I large as showered my precious hoarde on a punier man, less stout in struggle thyself hast now fulfilled such deeds that thy fame shall endure through all the ages as ever he did well, May the wielder reward thee. Still Beowulf, spake Baron of eck Thou this work of war most willingly. We have fought this fight and fearlessly dared force of the foe. Fain too, were I hadst thou but seen himself. What time the fiend, in his trappings tottered to fall? Swiftly?

I thought, in strongest gripe on his bed of death, to bind him down, that he, in the heart of this hand of mine, should breathe his last. But he broke away. Here I might not the maker wiled not hinder from flight, and firm enough hold the life destroyer too. Sturdy was he, the ruthless and running for rescue. However, he left behind him his hand in pledge, arm and shoulder.

Nor aught of help could the cursed one thus procure it all none the longer liveth he loathsome fiend sunk in his sins, But sorrow holds him tightly, grasped in gripe of anguish, in baleful bonds, where abide he must evil outlaw such awful doom as the mighty maker shall meet him out more silent seemed the son of eglaf em boast speech of his battle deeds, Since Athling's all through the Earl's great prowess beheld that hand on the

high roof, gazing foeman's fingers. The fore part of each of the sturdy nails to steel was likest heathen's hand spear, hostile warrior's chlor uncanny. Twas clear they said that him. No blade of the brave could touch, how keen soever, or cut away that battle hand, bloody from baneful foe. End of section three.

its hinges. The roof alone held safe and sound. When seared with cro the fiendish foe his flight essayed of life, despairing no light thing that the flight for safety, say it, who will force of fate? He shall find his way to the refuge, ready for race of man, for soul, possessors and sons of earth, And there his body, on bed of death shall rest. After revel arrived was the hour when to hall proceeded half Dean's son, the king

himself would sit to banquet. Ne'er heard I of host in haughtier throng more graciously gathered round, giver of rings, bowed then to bench. Those bearers of glory fain of the feasting, fatally received many a mead cup. The mighty in spirit kinsman who sat in the sumptuous hall Trothgar and Hrothulf Herath now was filled with friends the folk

of Skildings. Ne'er yet had tried the traitor's deed to Berewulf gave the bane of half Dean, a gold wove banner, gerdon of triumph, broidered battle flag, breastplate and helmet, and a splendid sword was seen of many borne to the brave one Berewulf took cup in hall for such costly gifts. He suffer'd no shame in that soldier throng, for I heard a few heroes in heartier mood with four such gifts so fashioned, with gold on the ale bench honoring others.

Thus or the roof of the helmet high, a ridge wound with wires kept ward o'er the head, lest the relict of files should fierce, inveighed sharp in the strife. When that shielded hero should go to grapple against his foes, then the earl's defense on the floor bade lead coursers eight with carven head gear. Adown the hall, one horse was decked, the saddle all shining and set in jewels.

Twas the battle seat of the best of kings. When to play of swords, the son of half Dean was fain to fare ne'er failed his valor in the crush of combat, when corpses fell to beowulf over them. Both then gave the refuge of ingwine's right and power o'er war steeds and weapons, wished him joy of them manfully. Thus the mighty Prince hoard guard for heroes that hard fight, repaid with steeds and treasures contemned by none who is

willing to say the sooth aright. And the Lord of earls to each that came with Berewulf over the briny ways an heirloom there at the ell bench gave precious gift, and the price bade pay in gold for him whom grendel Est murdered, and fain of them more had killed, had not what wisest God their word averted, and the

man's brave mood. The maker then ruled human kind as here and now therefore is in sight always best and forethought of mind, how much awaits him of leaf and of loath, who long time here through days of warfare,

this world endures. Then song and music mingled sounds, and the presence of half Dean's head of armies, and harping was heard with the hero lay as throftgart singer the hall Joy woke along the mead seats, making his song of that sudden raid on the sons of Finn, half Dean's hero Naf the Skilding was fated to fall in the Frisian slaughter. Hilburg needed not hold in value her enemy's honor. Innocent both were the loved one she lost at the Linden play Ban and brother they bowed to fate,

stricken by spears twas a sorrow woman. None doubted why the daughter of Hoc bewailed her doom. When dawning came and under the sky she saw them lying kinsmen murdered. When most she had ken of the sweets of the world by war were swept two Finn's own liegemen, and few were left in the parleying place. He could ply, no longer weapon nor war could he wage on Hengest and rescue his remnants by right of arms from the princess.

Than a pact he offered another dwelling, the Danes should have hall and high seat, and half the power should fall to them in Frisian land and at the figifts Fulkwald's sun day by day. The Danes should honor the folk of Hengest favor with rings, even as truly with treasure and jewels with fretted gold. As his Frisian kin he meant to honor in ale Hall. There pacts of peace they plighted further on both sides, firmly Finn to Hengest with oath upon honor, openly promised that woeful remnant,

with wise men's aid, nobly to govern. So none of the guests, by word or work should warp the treaty, or with malice of mind bemoan themselves as forced to follow their fee giver's slayer ladless men, as their lot ordained, should Frisian moreover with Foemen's taunt that murderous hatred to mind recall, then edge of the sword must seal his doom.

Oaths were given, and ancient gold heaped from Horde, the hardy skillding battle fane best on his bail fire lay all on the byre were plain to see the gory sark, the gilded swine crest, boar of hard iron, and Eathling's many slain by the sword of the slaughter they fell. It was Hildeberth's headst at Neft's on pire, the burn of her body on brands to lay his bones to burn on the baial fire placed at his uncle's side, and sorrowful dirgers bewept them. The woman great wailing ascended,

then wound up to Bulkan. The wildest of death fires roared o'er the hillock heads. All were melted, gashes burst, and blood gushed out from bites of the body. Balefire devoured greediest spirit, though spared not by war, out of either folk. Their flower was gone. Then hastened those heroes their home to see, friendless, to find the Frisian land houses and highburg hangeth still through the death dyed winter

dwelt with Finn holding pact. Yet of home he minded, though powerless his ring decked prow to drive over the waters. Now waves rolled fierce, lashed by the winds or winter locked them in icy fetters, then fared another year to mene dwellings. As yet they do the sun bright skies that their season, ever duly await far off. Winter was driven fair lay Earth's breast, and Fain was the rover

the guest to depart, though more gladly. He pondered on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep, and how to hasten the hot encounter where sons of the Frisians were sure to be so we escaped not the common doom. When hung with laughing the light of battle, best of blades, his bosom pierced, its edge was famed with the Frisian earls on Fierce's heart. Thinn there fell likewise on him self.

At home. The horrid saw death for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack had sorrowing told from seaways landed mourning their woes. Finn's wavering spirit bode not imprest. The burg was reddened with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain king amid clansmen. The queen was taken to their ship. The Skilding warriors bore all the chattels. The chieftain owned whatever they found in Finn's domain of gems and jewels. The gentle wife o'er paths of the deep to the Danes,

they bore led to her land. The lay was finished. The gleam AND's song. Then glad rose the revel bench boy brightened bearers draw from their wonder bats wine comes. We'll pow forth under gold crown goes where the good pair sit Uncle and nephew, two each to the other, one kindred in amity unfirth. The spokesman of the Skilding Lord's feet. Sat men had faith in his spirit, his

keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him unsure. At the sword play, the Skilding Queen spoke, quoth of this cup, my king and lord, breaker of rings, and blithe be thou gold friend of men to the geats. Here speak such words of mildness as men should use. Be glad with thy geats of those gifts, be mindful or near or far which now thou hast, men say to me a son, Thou wishest yon hero to hold thy haraths, perjured, jewel hall brightest enjoy Thou canst with many a largis,

and leave to thy kin folk and realm. When forth thou goest to greet thy doom for gracious I deem my Wrotholf, willing to hold and rule nobly our youths. If thou yield up, first, prince of Skildings, thy part in the world, I ween with good, he will well requite offspring of hours, when all he minds that for him we did in his helpless days of gift and grace to gain him honor. Then she turned to the seat where her sons were placed Threatrick and Rothmond, with heroes,

bands young men together. The Geat too sat there berewulf brave the brothers between a cup she gave him with kindly greeting and winsome words of wound and gold. She offered to honor him armed jewels, twain, corselet and rings, and of collars. The noblest that ever I knew the earth around, ne'er heard I so mighty neath Heaven's dome a hoard gem of heroes. Since Hammer bore to his bright built burg the brisings, necklace, jewel and gem casket,

jealousy fled he or Menroc's hate chose help eternal. He gallach Geat, grandson of Sweating. On the last of his raids. This ring bore with him under his manner the booty defending the war spoil warding, but word overwhelmed him. What time in his daring dangers he sought feud with Frisians. Fairest of gems he bore with him of the beaker of waves, sovereigns, strong under shield he died, fell the corpse of the king into keeping of Franks, gear of

the breast, and that gorgeous ring. Weaker warriors won the spoil after gripe of battle from Geetland's lord, and held the death field. Din rose in hall built pulse, spake amid warriors, and said, this jewel enjoy in thy jockund youth. Berewulf loved these battle weeds, where a royal treasure and richly thrive, preserve thy strength, and these striplings here counsel in kindness requital be mine has done such deeds that

for days to come. Thou art famed among folk, both far and near, so wide as washeth the wave of ocean, his windy walls, through the ways of life. Prosper o Prince, I pray for the rich possessions to son of mine, be helpful indeed, and uphold his joys. Here every earl to the other is true, mild of mood to the master. Loyal thines are friendly, the throng obedient liegemen are reveling. List and obey went then to her place that was

proudest of feasts, flowed wine for the warriors. Word they knew not destiny dire, and the doom to be seen by many an earl when eve should come and throth our homeward hasten away royal to rest. The room was guarded by an army of earls. As erste was done, they bared the bench balls abroad, they spread beds and bolsters. One beer carouser, in danger of doom, lay down in

the hall. At their heads, they said, their shields of war butler's bright on the bench were there over each eighthling easy to see the high battle helmet, the haughty spear, the corselet of rings. Twas their customs, so ever to be for battle, prepared at home, or harrying, which it were, even as off does evil threaten their sovereign king. They

were clansmen good. Then sank they to sleep with sorrow when bought his rest of the evening, as oft time had happened, and when Grendel guarded that golden hall, evil wrought till his end drew nigh slaughter for sins twas seen and told how an avenger survived the fiend, as was learnt afar the livelong time after that grim fight, Grendel's mother, Monster of women, mourned her woe. She was doomed to dwell in the dreary waters cold sea courses since Cain cut down with edge of the sword, his

only brother, his father's offspring. Outlawed, he fled, marked with murder from men's delights, warded the wilds there woke from him. Such fate sent ghosts as Grendel, who wore wolf horrid. At herot found a warrior watching and waiting the fray with whom the grisly one grappled a main. But the man remembered his mighty power, the glorious gift that God had sent him in his maker's mercy, put his trust

for comfort and help. So he conquered the foe, felled the fiend, who fled abject, reft of joy, to the realms of death mankind's foe, and his mother, now gloomy and grin, would go that quest of sorrow, the death of her son to avenge to her. At came she where helmet had danes slept in the hall too soon came back old ills of the earls, when in she burst the mother of Grendel. Less grim though that terror, and as terror of woman in war is less might

have made than of men in arms. When Hammer forged the falcon heart, sword gore stain, though swine of the helm crested with keen blade carves. A man then was in the hall, the hard edge drawn, the swords on the settles and shields. A many firm held in hand, nor helmet minded, nor harness of mail, whom that horror seized. Haste was hers. She would hie afar and save her life. When the liegeman saw her yet a single eightling up she seized fast and firm as she fled to the moor.

He was four rothguard of heroes, the dearest of trusty vassals, betwixt the seas, whom she killed on his couch, A clansman famous in battle, brave, nor was berewulf. There another house had been held apart, after giving of gold for the Geat renowned Uproar filled her roths the hand all had viewed. Blood fleck she bore with her bail was returned dole in the dwellings towards dire exchange, where Dane and Geat were doomed to gear the lives of loved

ones long tried. King the hoary hero at heart, was sad when he knew his noble no more lived and dead. Indeed was his dearest thane to his bow was berewolf brought in haste dauntless victor. As daylight broke along with his earl's the oightling lord with his clownsmen came where the king abode, waiting to see if the wielder of all would turn this tale of trouble and woe. Strode over floor the famed in strife with his hand companions. The hall resounded, wishing to greet the wise old king

in Gwine's lord. He asked if the knight had passed in peace to the prince's mind. End of section four.

feud she aveng'd that yester night unyieldingly. Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killidst seeing how long these liegemen mine. He ruin'd and ravaged, reft of life in arms he fell. Now another comes, keen and cruel, akin to Avenge, faring far in feud of blood, so that many a thane shall think who e'er sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings. This is hardest of heart bales. The hand

lies low that once was willing. Each wish to please land dwellers here, and liegemen mine who house by those parts I have heard relate that such a pair they have sometimes seen march Stalker's mighty, the moorland haunting wondering spirits. One of them seem'd so far as my folk could fairly judge of womankind, and one accursed in man's guise, trod the misery track of exile, though huger than human bulk, Grendel in days long gone they named him folk of

the land. His father. They knew not, nor any brood that was borne to him, of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home, by wolf cliffs haunt they and windy headlands, fenways fearful where flows the stream from mountains, gliding to gloom of the rocks underground flood not far is it hence in measure of miles, that the mere expands, and o'er it the frost bound forest hanging sturdily rooted shadows the wave by night is a wonder weird to see fire on the waters. So wise lived none of the

sons of men to search those depths. Nay, though the heathrover, harried by dogs, the horn proud heart, this halt should seek long distance, driven his dear life. First on the rink, he yields ere he brathe the plunge to hide his head. Tis no happy place. Thence the welter of waters washes up one to welkin when winds bestir evil storms and

air grows dusk, and the heavens weep. Now is help once more with thee alone the land thou know'st not place of fear, Where thou findest out that sinflect being seek. If thou dare, I will reward thee for waging this fight with ancient treasure, as erst I did with winding gold. If thou winnest back. Beowulf spake bairn of egthial sorrow not sage. It beseems us better friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them. Each of us all must his men abide in the ways of the world. So win who

may glory ere death when his days are told. That is the warrior's worthiest doom. Rise o realm warder ride we anon and mark the trail of the mother of Grendel. No harbor shall hide her. Heed my promise, enfolding of field or forested mountain, or floor of the flood. Let her flee whence she will. But thou this day endure in patience, as I ween thou wilt thy woes. Each one leapt up the gray beard God. He thanked Mighty Lord for the man's brave words for Hrothgar. Soon a

horse was saddled wave maine steed. The sovereign wise stately rode on his shield. Armed men followed in force. The footprints led along the woodland widely seen a path o'er the plain where she passed and trod the murky moor of men at arms. She bore the bravest and best one dead, him who with throthgar the homestead ruled on. Then went the atheling born o'er stone cliffs, steep and straight defiles, narrow passes and unknown ways, headlands sheer, and

the haunts of the niccoors foremost. He fared a few at his side of the wisest men the ways to scan, till he found in a flash the forested hill hanging over the hoary rock, a woeful wood. The waves below were dyed in blood. The danish Men had sorrow of soul and for skildings all for many a hero twas hard to bear ill for earls when I scare his head. They found by the flood on the fall, and there waves were welling. The warriors saw hot with blood, but

the horn sang oft battle song bold. The band sat down and watched on the water, worm like things, sea dragons strange that sounded the deep, and nicors that lay on the ledge of the nests, such as oft essay at hour of morn, on the road of sails, their ruthless quest, and sea snakes and monsters. These started away, swollen and savage. That song to hear that wore horn's blast. The warden of gillats with bolt from bow, then balked of life of wave work one monster amid its heart

went the keen war shaft in water. It seemed less doughty in swimming whom death had seized. Swift on the billows with boar spears well hooked and barbed. It was hard beset done to death, and dragg'd on the headland wave roamer. Wond'rous warriors view'd the grisly quest, then girt him Beowulf in martial mail, nor mourn'd for his life. His breastplate broad and bright of hues woven by hand.

Should the waters dry, well could it ward the warrior's body, that battle should break on his breast in vain, nor harm his heart by the hand of a foe. And the helmet white that his head protected was destin'd to dare the deeps of the flood. The wave whirl wind twas wound with chains, deck'd with gold, as in days of yore. The weapon smith work'd it wondrously with swine forms set it that swords nowise brandished in battle could

bite that helm. Nor was that the meanest of mighty helps which Shrothgar's orator offer'd at need hrunting, they named the hilted sword of old time. Heir looms easily. First iron was its edge, all etch'd with poison, with battle, blood hardened, nor blenched it at fight in a hero's hand, who held it ever on paths of peril, prepared to go to folkstead of foes. Not first time this it was destined to do a daring task. For he bore not in mind the Baon of echgluff, sturdy and strong,

that speech he had made drunk with wine. Now this weapon he lent to a stouter swordsman himself, though durst not under welter of waters, wager his life as loyal liegemen. So lost he his glory, honor of earls with the other. Not so who girded him now for the grim encounter. Beowulf spake, Bairon of echt have mind, thou, honored offspring

of half Dane gold, friend of men. Now I go on this quest sovereign wise what once was said, if in thy cause it came that I should lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bide to me, though fallen in father's place. Be guardian thou to this group of my thanes. My

warrior friends. If war should seize me and the goodly gifts, thou gavest me, Hrothgar beloved to Higalac send Gaatlund's king may Ken by the Goldrethel's son see when he stares at the treasure, that I got, mere friend for goodness, famed and joy'd, while I could in my duel bestower and let unfaith wield this wondrous sword. Earl far honored this ere gloom, precious hard of edge, with thrunting, I

seek doom of glory, or death shall take me. After these words, the wader gayat Lord boldly hastened, biding never answer at all. The ocean floods clos'd o'er the hero, long while of the day fled ere he felt the floor of the sea. Soon found the fiend who the flood domain. Sword hungry held these hundred winters, greedy and grim that some guest from above, some man was raiding her monster realm. She grasped out for him with grisly claws, and the warrior seiz'd, yet scathed, she not his body.

Hail the breastplate hindered as she strove to shatter the sark of war. The linked harness with loathsome hand then bore this brine wolf. When bottom she touch'd the lord of rings to the lair she haunted. Whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held weapon to wield against wondrous monsters that sore beset him. Sea beasts many tried with fierce tusks to tear his mail, and swarmed on the stranger.

But soon he marked he was now in some hall he knew not which where water never could work him harm, nor through the roof could reach him. Ever, fangs of the flood firelight he saw, beams of a blaze that brightly shone. Then the warrior was ware of that wolf of the deep, mere wife monstrous for mighty stroke, he swung his blade, and the blow withheld not then sang on her head. That seemly blade, its war song wild. But the warrior, found the light of battle, was loath

to bite, to harm the heart. Its hard edge failed. The noble, at need yet had known of old strife hand to hand, and had helmet's cloven doomed men's fighting gear first time. This for the gleaming blade that its glory fell firms still stood nor failed in valor, heedful of high deeds, high glax kinsmen flung away fretted sword featly jeweled the angry earl on earth. It lay steel, edged and stiff his strength he trusted hand gripe of might.

So man shall do whenever in war he weens to earn him lasting fame, nor fears for his life, seized them by shoulder, shrank not from combat. The Giatish war Prince Grendel's mother flung then the fierce one, filled with wrath his deadly foe, that she fell to ground. Swift on her part, she paid him back with grisly grasp and grappled with spent with struggle, stumbled the warrior, fiercest

of fighting men, fell adown on the hall guest. She hurled herself, hence her short sword broad and brown edged the bairn to avenge the sole born's sun on his shoulder lay braided breast mail, barring Deathwithstanding entrance of edge or blade, life would have ended for Ecgthiao's son under wide earth, for that Earl of Giats, had his armor of war not aided him, battled net hard, and Holy

God wielded the victory. Wisest maker to Lord of Heaven allowed his cause, and easily rose the earl erect mid the battle gear saw he a blade, triumphant old sword of eotense with edge of proof, warrior's heirloom weapon unmatched save only twas more than other men to bandy of battle could bear at all, as the giants had wrought

it ready and keen seized. Then its chain hilt the skilding's chieftain, bold and battle grim brandished the sword reckless of life, and so wrathfully smote that it gripped her neck and grasped her hard her bone rings, breaking the blade pierced through that fated one's flesh to floor. She sank bloody. The blade he was, blithe of his deed, then blazed forth light twas bright within as when from the sky there shines unclouded Heaven's candle the hall. He

scann'd by the wall. Then went he, his weapon raised high by its hilts, the hygelac thane, angry and eager, that edge was not useless to the warrior. Now he wished with speed Grendel to Gwerdon for grim raids many for the war. He wag'd on western Danes oftener far than an only time, when of Hrothgar's half companions he slew in slumber, in sleep, devour'd fifteen men of the folk of Danes, and as many others outward, bore his

horrible prey well paid for that. The wrathful prince for now prone, He saw Grendel stretch'd there, spent with war, spoil'd of life, so scathed had left him Heorot's battle. The body sprang far when after death it endured the blow sword stroked savage that severed its head. Soon then saw the sage companions, who waited with Throthgar, watching the flood, that the tossing water's turbid grew blood stain'd. The mere old men, together, hoary haired of the hero spake the

war barrier. Would not they weened again, proud of conquest, come to seek their mighty master. To many, it seemed the wolf of the waves had won his life. The ninth hour came. The noble skildings left the headland homeward

went the gold friend of men. But the guests sat on, stared at the surges, sick in heart, and wished, yet weened not their winsome lord again to see now that sword began from blood of the fight in battle droppings war blade to wane, twas a wondrous thing, that all of it melted as ice is wont When frosty fetters, the father loosens, unwines the wave bonds, wielding all seasons and times the true God he nor took from that dwelling the Duke of the gayats save only the head

and that hilt withal blazoned with duels. The blade had melted, burned was the bright sword. Her blood was so hot, so poisoned the hell sprite who perish'd within there Soon he was swimming, who safe saw in combat downfall of demons,

up dove through the flood. The clashing waters were cleansed, now waste of waves, where the wandering fiend her life days left, and this lapsing world swam then to strand, the sailor's refuge, sturdy in spirit of sea, booty, glad of burden, brave, he bore with him, went then to greet him and God. They thanked the thane band choice of their chieftain, blithe that safe and sound they could see him again soon from the hardy one, helmet and armor deftly they doffed, now drows'd the mere water meath

welkin with war blood stain'd. Forth they fared by the footpaths, thence merry at heart the highways measured well known roads. Courageous men carried the head from the cliff by the sea, an arduous task for all the band, the firm in fight, since four were needed on the shaft of slaughter strenuously to bear to the gold hall Grendel's head. So presently to the palace there foemen fearless, fourteen gaiats marching came their master of clan mighty amid them. The meadow ways

trod strode. Then within the sovereign Thane fearless in fight of fame, renowned hardy hero Rothgar to greet, and next by the hair into hall was borne Grendel's head, where the henchmen were drinking an awe to clan and queen alike, a monster of marvel. The men look'd on Beowulf, spake, bairn of egtheow lo Now this sea booty, son of half Dane, lord of Skildings, We've lustily brought thee sign of glory. Thou seest it here. Not lightly did I,

with my life escape in war under water. This work I essayed with endless effort, And even so my strength had been lost. Had the Lord not shielded me. Not a wit could I with fronting do in work of war. Though the weapon is good, yet a sword. The Sovereign of men vouchsafed me to spy on the wall there in splendor, hanging old, gigantic, how oft he guides the friendless wight. And I fought with that brand, felling in fight,

since fate was with me. The house's wardens. That war sword then all burn'd bright blade, when the blood gush'd o'er it battle sweat hot. But the hilt I brought back from my foes so avenged I their fiendish deeds death fall of Danes, as was dew and right. And this is my hest that in heorot now safe, thou canst sleep with thy soldier band, and every thane of all thy folk, both old and young, no evil fear Skilding's lord from that side again aught ill for thy earls,

as erst thou must. Then the golden hilt for that gray haired leader hoary hero in hand was laid giant wrought old so owned and enjoyed it. After downfall of devils, the Danish lord wonder Smith's work, since the world was rid of that grim souled fiend, the foe of God murder marked and his mother as well. Now it passed into power of the people's king. Best of all that the oceans bound, who have scattered the gold o'er Scandia's isle.

Hrothcas spake the hilt he viewed herloom old, where was etched the rise of that far off fight, where the floods o'erwhelmed raging waves. The race of giants, fearful their fate, a folk estranged from God eternal. Whence guerden dieu in that waste of waters the wielder paid them so on the guard of shining gold. In Runic staves, it was rightly said for whom the serpent traced sword was wrought best of blades in by gone days, and the hilt

well wound. The wise one spake, son of Hielfdane silent, were all lo So may he say, who sooth and right follows mid folk of far times mindful a land warden old that this earl belongs to the better breed so borne aloft thy fame must fly, O friend, my Beowulf, far and wide o'er folk stead's many Firmly, thou shalt all maintain mighty strength with mood of wisdom. Love of mine.

Will I assure thee as a while ago, I promis'd thou shalt prove a stay in future, in far years to folk of thine, to the heroes, a help was not heremod Thus to offspring of ech Gula, honor skildings nor grew for their grace, but for grisly slaughter, for doom of death. To the Danish man, he slew wrath, swollen his shoulder, comrades companions at board, so he passed alone, chieftain,

haughty from human cheer. Though him the maker with might endowed delights of power and uplifted high above all men, yet blood fierce his mind. His breast Horde grew no bracelets gave he to Danes as was due. He endur'd all joyless, strain of struggle and stress of woe, long feud with his folk. Here find thy lesson of virtue.

Advise thee. This verse I have said for thee wise, from laps to winters wondrous seems how to sons of men, Almighty God, in the strength of his spirit sendeth wisdom, estate, high station. He swayeth all things, whiles he letteth right lustily fare the heart of the hero of high born race in seat ancestral assigns him bliss his folks, sure fortress in fee to hold, puts in his power great parts of the earth, empire so ample that end of it this want of wisdom weeneth none. So he waxes

in wealth. No wise can harm him, illness or age, No evil cares shadow his spirit, no sword, hate threatens from ever an enemy. All the world wends at his will. No worse he knoweth, till all within him obstinate pride waxes and wakes, while the warden slumbers. The spirit's sentry sleep is too fast, which masters his might, and the murderer nears stealthily, shooting the shafts from.

riches nor wrecks of his forbear ban. Then such baleful thoughts Beowulf, dearest, best of men, and the better part choose profit, eternal and temper thy pride, warrior famous. The flower of thy might lasts now a while, but ere long it shall be that sickness or sword thy strength shall minish, or fang of fire, or flooding billow, or bite of blade or brandish spear, or odious age, or the eyes clear beam wax, dull and darken death. Even

thee in haste shall overwhelm thou, hero of war. So the ring Danes these half years a hundred I ruled wielded neath welkin, and warded them bravely from mighty ones Many or Middle Earth, from spear and sword, till it seemed for me no foe could be found under fold

of the sky. Lo sudden, the shift to me seated secure, came grief for joy when Grendel began to harry my home, the hellish foe for those ruthless raids unresting, I suffered heart sorrow heavy heaven be thanked, Lord eternal, for life extended that I on this head, all hewn and bloody, after long evil with eyes may gaze. Go to the bench. Now be glad at banquet, warrior worthy, A wealth of

treasure at dawn of day be dealt between us. Gladdlad was the Geat's lord, going betimes to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded afresh as before for the famed in battle for the band of the hall was a banquet dight nobly anew the night helm darkened, dust o'er the drinkers, the doughty ones rose for the hoary headed would hasten to rest aged, shilding and eager, the Geat shield fighter sturdy for sleeping yearned him wander weary warrior guest from far a hall thane heralded forth, who by

custom courtly cared for all needs of a thane as in those of old days, Warrior wanderers wont to have so slumbered the stout heart stately the hall rose gabled in gilt, where the slept on till a raven black the rapture of heaven, blithe heart boded, bright came flying shine after shadow. The swordsman hastened athelings. All were eager homeward forth to fare and far from thence the great hearted guest would guide his keel. Bade then the hardy

ones hrunting be brought to the sun of Etchlaf. The sword bade him take excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it. Quoth that he counted it keen in battle. War friend winsome with words, he slander'd not edge of the blade twas a big hearted man, now eager for parting and armed at point warriors waited while went to his host. That darling of Danes, the doughty atheling to high seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted. Be Wolf, spoke Bairn of egg. Thou lo we sea farers say our will

far come men that we fain would seek higelac. Now we here have found hosts to our heart. Thou hast harbored us well, if ever on earth I am able to win me more of thy love, O, Lord of men, aught anew than I now have done for work of war. I am willing still if it come to me ever across the seas that neighbor foreman annoy and fright thee, as they that hate thee erewhile have used thousands than of Thanes, I shall bring heroes to help thee of Higelac.

I know ward of his folk, that though few his years, the Lord of the Gates will give me aid by word and by work, that well I may serve thee, wielding the war wood to win thy triumph, and lending thee might when thou lackest men. If thy Hrethric should come to court of Gates, a sovereign son, he will surely there find his friends a far off land. Each man should visit who vaunts him brave him. Then, answering hroth Gar, spake these words of thine, the wisest God

sent to thy soul. No sajr counsel from so young in years e'er yet have I heard thou art strong of main, and in mind art weary art wise in words? I ween indeed, if ever it hap that hrethels e'er by spear be seized by sword, grim battle, by illness or iron, Thine elder and Lord, People's leader and life be thine. No seemlier man will the sea gates find at all to choose for their chief and king, for hoard,

God of heroes. If hold thou wilt thy kinsman's kingdom, thy keen mind pleases me, the longer the better, Bewolf loved, Thou hast brought it about that both are peoples, sons of the Geat and spear. Dane folk shall have mutual peace and from murderous strife, such as once they waged from war. Refrain, long as I rule this realm so wide, Let our hoards be common. Let heroes with gold each other greet o'er the gannet's bath, and the ring prowbear

o'er rolling waves, tokens of love. I true my landfolk, toward friend and foe, are firmly join'd and honor they keep in the olden way to him in the hall. Then half Dane's son gave treasures twelve, and the trust of earls bade him fair with the gifts to his folk. Beloved hailed to his home, and in haste return then kiss'd the King of Kin renown'd the Shulding's chieftain, that choicest thane, and fell on his neck. Fast flowed the

tears of the hoary headed, heavy with winters. He had chances, twain, but he clung to this, that each should look on the other again, and hear him in hall. Was this hero so dear to him his breast's wild billows He banned in vain, safe in his soul, a secret longing locked in his mind for that loved man burned in his blood. Then Beowulf strode, glad of his gold gifts. The grass plot o'er warrior, blithe the wave roamer bode, riding at anchor, its owner awaiting. As they hastened onward

Hrothgar's gift. They lauded at length twas a lord unpeered every way blameless till age had broken it spareth no mortal, his splendid might came now to ocean. The ever courageous, hardy henchmen, their harness bearing woven warsacks, the warden marked trusty as ever. The Earl's return from the height of the hill, no hostile words reached the guests as he rode to greet them, but welcome. He called to that

weder clan as the sheen mailed spoilers to ship. Marched on then on the strand with street steeds and treasure and armor. Their roomy and ring edite ship was heavily laden high. Its mast rose over Hrothgar's hoarded gems. A sword to the boat guard. Beowulf gave mounted with gold on the mead bench, since he was better esteemed that blade possessing heirloom old their ocean keel boarding, they drove through the deep and Daneland left. A sea cloth was set a sail with ropes firm to the mast. The

flood timbers moaned, nor did wind over billows. That wave swimmer blow across from her course. The craft sped on foam necked. It floated forth o'er the waves, keel firm, bound over briny currents till they got them sight of the Geatish cliffs, home known Headlands High. The boat, stirred by winds on the strand, up drove helpful at haven. The harbor guard stood, who long already for loved companions by the water, had waited and watched afar. He bound

to the beach. The broad bosomed ship with anchor bands lest ocean billows that trusty timber should tear away. Then Beowulf bade them bear the treasure, gold and jewels. No journey far was it, thence to go to the giver of rings. Higelacth at home. He dwelt by the sea wall, close himself and clan haughty that house a hero the king hide the hall, and higg'd right, young, wise and wary.

Though winter's few in those fortress walls, she had found a home Harrith's daughter, Nor humble her ways, nor grudge she gifts to the geatish men of precious treasure. Not Thrith's pride showed she folk queen famed, or that fell Deceit was none so daring that durst make bold save her lord alone of the liegemen, dear that lady full in the face to look. But forged fetters he found his lot, bonds of death and brief the respite. Soon as they seized him his sword, doom was spoken, and

the burnished blade a baleful murder proclaimed and closed. No queenly way for woman to practice. Though peerless, she that the weaver of peace from warrior deer by wrath and lying his life should reave. But Hemming's kinsman hindered this, for over their ale men also told that of these

folk horrors, fewer she wrought onslaughts of evil. After she went gold decked bride to the brave young prince Atheling haughty and Offa's haul or the fallow flood, at her father's bidding safely sought where since she prospered royal throned, rich in goods, fain of the fair life, fate had sent her and leel in love to the lord of warriors. He of all heroes I heard of ever from sea to sea, of the sons of earth, most excellent seemed. Hence Offa was praised for his fighting and feeing by

far off men. The spear bold warrior wisely he ruled over his empire. Umer woke to him help of heroes. Hemming's kinsman, grandson of garmand grim in war, hastened the hardy one henchmen with him sandy strand of the sea to tread and widespread ways. The world's great candle sun shone from south. They strode along with sturdy steps to the spot they knew where the battle king young, his burg within slayer of ungan Thoe shared the rings shelter

of heroes to Higelac. Beowulf's coming was quickly told that there in the court the clansman's refuge, this shield companions, sound and alive. Hail from the hero play. Homeward strode with haste in the hall by highest order. Room for the rovers was readily made by his sovereign. He sat, come safe from battle, kinsmen, by kinsmen, his kindly lord he first had greeted in gracious form with manly words.

The mead dispensing came through the high haul. Harrath's daughter winsome to warriors, wine cup bore to the hands of the heroes. Higelac then his comrade fairly with question ply in the lofty hall, sore, longing to know what manner

of sojourn the sea gates made. What came of thy quest, my kinsman, Beowulf, when thy yearning suddenly swept thee yonder battle to seek o'er the briny sea combat in heroat Crothgar, couldst thou aid at all the honored chief in his wide known woes with waves of care, my sad heart seethed I sore, mistrusted my loved one's venture. Long I begged Thee by no means to seek that slaughtering monster, But suffer the South Danes to settle their feud themselves

with Grendel. Now God be thanked that safe and sound I can see Thee now be wulf spake the bairn of Edge. Thou tis no unhidden higelac lord to many men that meeting of hours struggle grim between Grendel and me, which we fought on the field, where full too many sorrows he wrought for the shielding victors, evils unending these all I avenged. No boast can be from breed of Grendel any on earth, For that uproar at dawn from the longest lived of the loathsome race in fleshly fold.

But first I went Hrothgart to greet in the hall of Gifts, where half Dane's kinsmen high renowned, stood, as my purpose was plain to him, assign'd me a seat by his son and heir. The liegemen were lusty my life days. Never such merry men over mead in hall have I heard under heaven the high born queen People's peace bringer passed through the hall, cheered the young clansmen clasps of gold ere. She sought her seat to sundry,

gave off to the heroes Hrothgaw's daughter to earls. In turn the ale cup tendered she whom I heard these hall companions fray owaru name. When fretted gold she proffered the warriors promised, is she gold decked maid to the glad son of Freuda, sage the seams to the shilding's friends, Kingdom's keeper. He counts it wise the woman to wedsoe

and ward off feud store of slaughter. But seldom ever, when men are slain does the murder speak sink but briefest while though the bride be fair, nor haply will like it. The heathen bard lord, and as little each of his liegemen all when a thane of the Danes in that doughty throng goes with a lady along their hall, and on him the old time heirlooms glisten hard and ring decked. Hethe Bard's treasure weapons that once they wielded fair until they lost it at the linden play. Liegemen

leel and their lives as well. Then over the ale on this heirloom, gazing some ash wielder old who has all in mind that spear death of men. He is stern of mood, heavy of heart. In the hero young tests the temper and tries the soul, and war hate

wakens with words like these, canst thou not, comrade? Can that sword which to the fray thy father carried in his final feud neath the fighting mask, dearest of blades, when the Danish slew him and wielded the war place on whither guild's fall after havoc of heroes, those hardy shieldings. Now the son of a certain slaughtering Dane, proud of his treasure, paces this hall, joys in the killing, and carries the jewel that rightfully ought to be owned by thee.

Thus he urges and eggs him all the time with keenest words, till occasion offers that fray Owaru's thane for his father's deed, after bite of brand in his blood, must slumber, losing his life. But that Liegeman flies living away for the land he kens and thus be broken on both their sides. Oaths of the earls. When Ingeld's breast wells with war hate and wife love. Now after the care billows cooler grows. So I hold not high the heathobard's faith due to the Danes or their during

love and pact of peace. But I pass from that, turning to Grendel, o giver of treasure, and saying in full now how the fight resulted, hand Frey of heroes, When Heaven's jewel had fled o'er far fields, that fierce sprite came night foe savage to seek us out where safe and sound we entered the hall to Hanshue. Then was that harassing deadly? His fall there was fated. He first was slain, girded warrior Grendel on him, turned murderous mouth on our mighty kinsmen, and all of the braves

man body devoured. Yet none the earlier, empty handed, would the bloody tooth murderer, mindful of bail outward, go from the gold decked hall. But me he attacked, in his terror of might, with greedy hand, grasped me a glove hung by him, wide and wondrous wound with bands, and in artful. Wise it was all wrought by devilish craft of dragon skins. Meitherin an innocent man, the fiendish foe was fain to thrust with many another he might not sow.

When I, all angrily upright, stood twere long to relate how that land destroyer I paid in kind for his cruel deeds. Yet there, my prince, this people of thine, got fame by my fighting. He fled away, and a little space his life preserved. But there stayed behind him, his stronger hand left in harout heartsick. Thence on the floor of the ocean that outcast fell me for this struggle. The Shilding's friend paid in plenty, with plates of gold,

with many a treasure. When morn had come and we all at the banquet board sat down, then was song and glee. The gray haired Shilding, much tested, told of the times of yore. Whiles the hero, his harp bestirred, would of delight now lays he chanted of sooth and sadness, or set aright legends of wonder the wide hearted king, or for years of his youth he would yearn at times for strength of old struggles. Now stricken with age, hoary hero, his heart surged full, when wise with winters

he wailed their flight. Thus in the hall the whole of that day at ease we feasted till fell or earth another night anon full ready in greed of vengeance. Grendel's mother set forth all doleful dead, was her son through war, he of wedders, now woman monstrous with fury fell a foemen. She slew, avenging her offspring from asher old loyal counselor life was gone, Nor might they even when morning broke. Those Danish people their death done. Comrade burn with brands on bale fire lay the man they

mourn'd under mountain stream. She had carried the corpse with cruel hands for Hrothgar. That was the heaviest sorrow of all that had laden the lord of his folk, the leader. Then by thy life besought me sad was his soul in the sea wave's coil, to play the hero and hazard my being for glory of prowess my garden. He pledg'd I then in the waters. Tis widely known that Seafloor guardian Savage found hand to hand there a while we struggled billows well blood in the briny hall her head.

I hewed with a hardy blade from Grendel's mother and gained my life, though not without danger. My doom was not yet Then the haven of heroes, half Dane's son gave me ingardon great gifts of price. So held this king to the customs, old that I wanted for naught. In the wage I gained the mead of my might. He made me gifts half Dane's heir for my own disposal. Now to thee, my prince, I prooffer them all gladly, give them thy grace alone can find me favor few,

and indeed have I of kinsmen save Higelac thee. Then he bade them bear him the bore head standard in battle, helm high and breastplate gray, the splendid sword. Then spake in form me this war gear the wise old Prince Hrothgar gave, and his hest he added that its story be straightway, said to thee Awhile it was held by Haragar king for long time, lord of the land of Shildings, yet not to his son. The sovereign left it to daring Heroward dear as he was to him his harness

of battle. Well hold thou it all, And I heard that soon passed o'er the path of this treasure, all apple fallow four good steeds each like the other's arms and horses he gave to the king. So should kinsmen be not weave one another the net of wiles, or with deep hid treachery, death, contrive for neighbor and comrade. His nephew was ever by hardy Higelac held full dear, and each kept watch o'er the other's wheel. I heard too the necklace to Higgott, he presented wonder wrought treasure,

which wial Thou gave him Sovereign's daughter. Three steeds he added slender and saddle gay. Since such gift the gem gleamed bright on the breast of the queen. Thus showed his strain. The son of Edge Thou as a man, remarked for mighty deeds and acts of honor at ale. He slew not comrade or kin, nor cruel. His mood, though of sons of earth, his strength was greatest, a glorious gift that God had sent the splendid leader. Long was he spurn'd and worthless by Geatish warriors held him

at meed. The master of clans failed full off to favor at all, slacken, shiftless. The strong men deemed him profitless prince, but payment came to the warrior, honored for all his woes. Then the bulwark of earls bade bring within hardy chieftain Hrethel's heirloom garnish'd with gold no geat e'er new in shape of a sword, a statelier prize. The brand he laid in Beowulf's lap, and of hides

assign'd him seven thousand, with house and high seat. They held in common Land alike by their line of birth inheritance home, but hire the king because of his rule over the realm itself. Now further, it fell, with the flight of years, with Harrying's horrid that Higelac perished, and herdred too by hewing of swords under the shield wall, slaughtered lay when him at the van of his victor folk sought hardy heroes heatho schilfings in arms o'erwhelming heroic's nephew.

Then Beowulf came as king this broad realm to wield, and he ruled it well fifty winters, a wise old prince warding his land, until one began, in the dark of night a dragon to rage in the grave on the hill. A hoard it guarded in the stone barrow steep a straight path reached it unknown to mortals. Some man, however, came by chance that cave within to the heathen horde in hand. He took a golden goblet, nor gave he it back, stole with it away while the watcher slept

by thievish wiles. For the warden's wrath, Prince and people must pay betimes.

earl forgotten in ancient years. Left the last of his lofty race heedfully there had hidden away dearest treasure, for death of yore had hurried all hence, and he alone left to live the last of the clan weeping his friends, yet wished to bide, warding the treasure his one delight, though brief, his respite car new, ready to strand and sea waves stood anear hard by the headland, hidden and closed. There laid within it his lordly heirlooms, and heaped hoard

of heavy gold, that warden of rings. Few words he spake. Now hold thou earth, since heroes may not what earls have owned, lo erst from thee brave men brought it, But battle, death, seized and cruel killing my clansmen all

robbed them of life and a leechman's joys. None have I left to lift the sword, or to cleanse the carven cup of price beaker bright, my brave are gone, and the helmet hard, All haughty with gold shall part from its plaiting polishers sleep, who could brighten and burnish the battle mask, and those weeds of war that were wont to brave over bicker of shields, the bite of steel rust with their bearer, the ringed male fares not far with famous chieftain at side of hero. No harp's delight,

no glee, wood's gladness. No good hawk now flies through the hall, nor horses, fleet, stamp in the bergstead, battle and death, the flower of my race have reft away, mournful of mood. Thus he moaned his woe alone for them all, and unblithe wept by day and by night, till death fell wave or whelmed his heart, his horde of bliss, that old ill doer open found who blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth naked foe dragon flying by night,

folded in fire. The folk of Earth dread him, sore 'tis his doom to seek hoard in the graves and heathen gold, to watch many wintered nor wins. He thereby powerful this plague of the people. Thus held the house of the Horde in Earth three hundred winters till one aroused wrath in his breast to the ruler, bearing that costly cup, and the king implored for bond of peace. So the barrow was plumbered, borne off was booty. His boon was granted. That wretched man and his ruler saw

first time what was fashioned in far off days. When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled or the stone he snuffed, the stark heart found footprint of Foe, who so far had gone in his hidden craft by the creature's head. So may the undoomed easily flee evils and exile, if only he gained the grace of the wielder, that warden of gold or the ground went seeking, greedy to find the man who brought him such wrong. In sleep, savage and burning. The barrow he circled all without nor

was any there none in the waste. Yet war he desired, was eager for battle. The barrel he entered, sought the cup, and discovered soon that some one of the mortals had searched his treasure, his lordly gold. The guardian waited ill, enduring till evening came. Boiling with wrath, was the barrel's keeper, and fame with flame the foe to pay for the dear cup's loss. Now day was fled, as the worm

had wished by its wall. No more was it glad to bide, But burning flew folded in flame, a fearful beginning for suns of the soil, And soon it came in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end. Then the baleful fiend, its fire belched out, and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high all landsfolk frighting. No living thing would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.

Wide was the dragon's warring scene, its fiendish fury, far and near as the grim destroyer those Gaetish people hated and hounded too hidden lair to its hoard, It hastened at hint of dawn, folk of the land. It had lapped in flame, with bale and brand in its barrow. It trusted its battling and bulwarks. That boast was vain to Beowulf. Then the bale was told quickly and truly the king's own home of buildings, the best in brand. Waves melted the gift throne of gates to the good

old man. Sad in heart twas heaviest sorrow. The sage assumed that his sovereign god he had angered, breaking ancient law, and embittered the lord. His breast within with black thoughts welled as his wont was never the folk's own fastness. That fiery dragon with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all washed by waves. But the warlike king, prince of the waiter's plotted vengeance warriors bulwark, he bade them work

all of iron. The Earl's commander, a war shield wondrous well he knew that forest wood against fire were worthless. Lyndon could aid not Atheling Brave, he was fated to finish this fleeting life, his days on earth, and the dragon with him, though long it had watched or the wealth of the Horde shame. He reckoned sharer of rings to follow the flier afar with a host, a broad

flung band. Nor the battle feared he, nor deemed he dreadful the dragon's warring, its vigor and valor ventures desperate, he had passed a plenty and perils of war, contest crash. Since conqueror proud Rothgar's Hall, he had wholly purged, and

in grapple had killed the Ken of Grendel. Loathsome breed, not least was that of hand to hand fights with Hegelach fell when the ruler of Gates, in rush of battle, lord of his folk in the Frisian Land, son of Rethel, by sword, drafts, guide by brands, down beaten, thence Beowulf fled through strength of himself and his swimming power, though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty coats of mail.

When he came to the sea. Nor yet might hetwarres haughtily boast their craft of contest, who carried against him shields to the fight, But few escaped from strife with the hero to their homes. Then swam over ocean Echthiao's son, lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land, where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm rings and royal seat, reckoning not the strength of her son to save their kingdom

from hostile hordes after Hegelach's death. No sooner for this could the stricken ones in any wise move that Atheling's mind over young Hardred's head as lord and ruler of all the realm to be. Yet the hero upheld him with helpful words, aided in honor till older grown he wielded the wetter geats wandering exile sought him oward the seas. The sons of Outre, who had spurned the sway of

the Skilfing's helmet. The bravest and best that broke the rings in Swedish land of the sea King's line, haughty hero, hence.

He the fall of his lord, he was fain to requite in after days, and to Edgull's he proved friend to the friendless, and forces sent over the sea to the son of Otre, weapons and warriors well repaid he those care paths cold when the king lou thus safe through struggles, The son of Echthial had passed a plenty through peril's dire with daring deeds, till this day was come that doomed him. Now with the dragons to strive with Comrade's eleven, the Lord of Gates, swollen in rage,

went seeking the dragon he had heard. Whence all the harm arose, and the killing of klansmen, that cup of price on the lap of the lord had been laid by the finder in the throng. Was this one thirteenth man, starter of all the strife and ill, care laden, captive, cringing, thence forced and reluctant, he led them on till he came in ken of that cavern hall the barrow dealt near Billowy Surge's flood of ocean within twas full of wire,

gold and jewels. A jealous warden warrior, trusty the treasures held lurked in his lair, nor light the task of entrance for any of the earth born men. Sat on the headland. The hero king spake words of hail to his hearth, companion's gold, friend of Gates, all gloomy, his soul wavering, death bound, weird, full nigh ready stood to greet the gray haired man, to seize his soul, Horde, sunder apart, life and body not long would be the

warrior's spirit in wound with flush. Beowulf spake the barn of Echthial through store of struggles, I strove in youth mighty feuds, I mind them all. I was seven years old when the Sovereign of Ring's, friend of his folk from my father, took me, had me and held me rethel the king with food and fee, faithful in kinship ne'er while I lived there. He loathlier found me barn

in the burgh. Then his birthright sons Hairbelled and Hasteth and Higelac mine for the eldest of these by unmeet chants by kinsman's deed was the death bed strewn when Hyacinth killed him with horny bow. His own dear liege laid low with an arrow, missed the mark, and his mate shot down, one brother the other with bloody shaft. A felis fight and a fearful sin horror to rethel. Yet hard as it was unavenged, must the athelen die

too awful? It is for an aged man to bide and bear that his barn so young, rides on the gallows. A rhyme, he makes sorrow song for his son, there hanging as rapture of ravens. No rescue now can come from the old disabled man. Still is he minded? As his morning breaks of the air, gone elsewhere another he hopes not he will by to see his burg within as ward for his wealth. Now the one has found doom of death that the deed incurred. Forlorn, he looks on the lodge of his son, wine hall, waste and

wind swept chambers, reft of revel. The writer sleepeth, the hero far hidden. No harp resounds in the courts, no wastle as once was heard. Then he goes to his chamber a grief song, chants alone for his lost two large all seems homestead and house. So the helmet of wedders hid in his heart for harrabuild waves of woe.

No way could he take to avenge on the slayer slaughter so foul, nor en could he harass that hero at all with loathing deed, though he loved him not, And so for the sorrow his soul endured men's gladness. He gave up, and God's light chose lands and cities. He left his sons as the wealthy do. When he went from earth, there was strife and struggle TwixT Swede and Gait over the width of waters. War arose, hard,

battle horror. When Rethel died and Ongenthal's offspring grew strife, keen bold nor brooked o'er the seas packed of peace, but pushed their boats to harass and hatred Rosnabord. Men of my folk for that feud had vengeance. For woeful war tis widely known, though one of them bought it with blood of his own heart, a bargain hard for hethsin prov'd fatal that fray for the first of gates at morn i heard was the murderer kill'd by kinsmen

for kinsmen with clash of sword. When Ongenthau met eofor there wide split the war helm wan, he fell hoary skillfing the hand that smote him of feud was mindful, nor flinch'd from the death blow. For all that he gave me, my gleaming sword repaid him at war such power I wielded for lordly treasure. With land he entrusted me homestead and house. He had no need from Swedish realm, or from spear Dane folk, or from the men of gifts to get him help some warrior worse for wage

to buy. Ever, I fought in the front of all soul to the fore, and so shall I fight while I bide in life. And this blade shall last that early and late hath loyal proved, Since for my daughtiness Dachfrin fell slain by my hand. The Hugos champion nor fared. He thence to the Frisian king with the booty back and breast adornments, but slain in struggle. That standard bearer fell Athleen brave. Not with blade was he slain, but his bones were broken by brownie gripe his heart waves stifled.

The sword edge now hard blade, and my hand for the horde shall strive. Beowulf spake, and a battle vow made his last of all. I have lived through many wars in my youth. Now once again, old folk defender feud. Will I seek do doughty deeds. If the dark destroyer forth from his cavern, come to fight me, Then hailed he the helmeted heroes, all for the last time, greeting his leechman, dear comrades of war. I should carry no

weapon nor sword to the serpent. If sure I knew how with such enemy, else my vows I could gain as I did in Grendel's day. But fire in this fight. I must fear me now and poisonous breath. So I bring with me breastplate and board from the barrow's keeper, no foot, breadth, flee eye. One fight shall end our war by the wall, as weird allots all mankind's master. My mood is bold, but forbears to boast or this

battling flier. Now abide by the barrow, ye breastplate mailed, Ye heroes in harness, which of us twain better from the battle rush bare his wounds. Wait ye the finish. The fight is not yours, nor meet for any but me alone. To measure might with this monster. Here and play the hero heartily, I shall win that wealth or war shall seize cruel, killing your king and lord.

near or endure those deeps. For the dragon's flame then let from his breast, for he burst with rage the waiter gate prince a word outgo stormed. The stark heart stern went ringing and clear his cry neath the cliff rocks gray. The horde guard heard a human voice. His rage was enkindled. No respite now for pact of peace.

The poisoned breath of that foul worm first came forth from the cave hot reek of fight, the rocks resounded stout by the stone way his shield he raised Lord of the Gates against the loathed one, while with courage keen that coiled foe came seeking strife. The sturdy king had drawn his sword, not dull of edge, heirloom old, and each of the two felt fear of his foe, though fierce their mood. Stoutly stood with his shield high, raised the warrior king as the worm now coiled together

a maine. The mailed one waited, now spire by spire, fast sped and glided that blazing serpent. The shield protected soul and body a shorter while for the hero king, then his heart desired, could his will have wielded the welcome respite but once in his life, But weird denied it, and victory's honors his arm. He lifted Lord of the Gates. The grim foes smote with Athleen's heirloom. Its edge was turned brown, blade on the bone, and bit more feebly than its noble master had need of. Then in his

baleful stress, then the barrows keeper waxed full wild. For that weighty blow cast deadly flames wide, drove in far those vicious fires, no victor's glory. The Gate's lord boasted his brand had failed, naked in battle, as never it should excellent iron. Twas no easy path that Echthiau's honored air must tread, or the planet to the place of the foe. For against his will he must win a home elsewhere, far as must all men leaving this lapsing life.

Not long it was ere those champions grimly closed again. The hoard guard was heartened high heaved his breast once more, and by peril was pressed again, enfolded in flames, the folk commander nor yet about him. His bands of comrades, son of Ethlings, armed, stood with warlike front to the woods. They bent them their lives to save. But the soul of one with care was cumbered. Kinship true can never

be marred in a noble mind. If his name was Welston's son, Lynden Thane loved the lord of Skilphings, Alpher's kinsman, his king he now saw with heat under helmet, hard oppressed, he minded the prizes his prince had given him, wealthy seat of Weigdemen's line, and folk writes that his father owned Not long he lingered the linden yellow his shield.

He seized the old sword he drew as heirloom of Enmund Earth dwellers knew it who was slain by the sword edge son of Otaire, friendless, exiled erst in fray, killed by Wilston, who won for his kin. Brown, bright helmet, breastplate, ringed old sword of Jotun's anils, gift, weeds of war, of the warrior's thing, battle gear brave. Though a brother's child had been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onelah

For winters this war gear. Wailston kept breastplate and board till his barn had groaned, earlship to earn as the old Sire did. Then he gave him mid Gates the gear of battle portion huge. When he passed from life, fared aged fourth 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. So the worm found out. When once in fight the foes had met, Wickliff spake and

his words were sage, sad in spirit. He said to his comrades, I remember the time when mead we took what promise we made to this Prince of ours in the banquet hall, to our breaker of rings for gear of combat, to him give 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 urged us to glory, and gave these treasures because he counted us keen with the spear and hearty neath helm.

Though this hero work our leader hoped unhelped and alone to finish for us folk defender, who 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, glowing and grim. For God is my witness, I am far more famed. The fire should seize along with my lord these limbs of mine unsuiting, it seems our shields to

bear homeward. Hence save here we essay to fell the foe and defend the life of the Wedder's lord. I WoT twere shame on the law of our land. If alone the king out of Gaetish warriors woe endur'd and sank in the struggle. My sword and helmet, breastplate and board for us both shall serve through slaughter. Reek strode he to succor his chieftain, his battle helm bore and brief words spake balwolf, dearest, do all bravely, as in youthful days of your thou voust that while life should last,

thou wouldst let know wise thy glory droop. Now great indeeds athlen steadfast with all thy strength, shield thy life. I will stand to help thee. At the words, the worm came once again, murderous monster, mad with rage, with fire billows flaming its foes to seek the hated men. In heat waves burned that board to the boss, and the breastplate failed to shelter at all. The spear Thane, young, yet quickly under his kinsman 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 glave was driven into the dragon's head blow nerved by hate, but nagling was shivered. Broken in battle was Baleo'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, so the tale was told, and he tried too far with strength of stroke, all swords he wielded, though sturdy their steel, they steadied him. Not then, for the third time thought on its feud.

That folk destroyer fired dread dragon and rushed on the hero where room aloud, battle grim burning, its bitter teeth closed on his neck and covered him with waves of blood from his breast that welled end of Section seven.

and the wedder's helm smoke that warm asunder felled. The foe flung forth its life. So had they killed it kinsmen both athelings twain. Thus an earl should be in danger's day of deeds of valor. This conqueror's hour of the king was last of his work in the world. The wound began which that dragon of earth had erst inflicted, to swell and smart, and soon he found in his

breast was boiling, baleful and deep pain of poison. The prince walked on wise in his thought to the wall of rock, then sat and stared at the structure of giants, where arch of stone and steadfast column upheld forever that hall in earth. Yet here must the hand of the henchman, peerless, lave with water his winsome lord, the king and conqueror, covered with blood, with struggles spent and unspan his helmet. Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt, his mortal wound

full well. He knew his portion now was past and gone of earthly bliss, and all had fled of his file of days, and death was near. I would fain bestow on son of mine this gear of war were given me, now that any heir should after me come of my proper blood. This people I ruled fifty winters, no folk king. Was there none at all of the neighboring clans who war would wage me with Warrior's friends and threaten me with horrors at home. I bided what fate might come, and I cared for mine own feuds.

I sought not, nor falsely swore ever on oath for all these things. Though fatally wounded, fain am I from the ruler of man. No wrath shall seize me, when life from my frame must flee away for killing of kinsmen. Now quickly go and gaze on that hoard beneath the hoary rock wiglff loved. Now the worm lies low, sleeps, heart sore of his spoil, breathing and fair in haste, I would fain behold the gorgeous heirlooms, golden store, have joy in the jewels and gems, lay down softlier for

sight of this splendid horde. My life and lordship I long have held. I have heard that swiftly the son of Werston at wish and word of his wounded king, war sick warrior, woven mail coat battle sark boreneath the barrow's roof. Then the clansmen, keen of conquest, proud passing the seat, saw a store of jewels and glistening gold.

The ground along by the wall were marvels and many a vessel In the den of the dragon, the dawn flier old unburnished bowls of bygone men, reft of richness, rusty helms of the olden age, and arm rings, many wondrously woven. Such wealth of gold booty from barrow can burden with pride each human wight let him hide it, who will? His glance too, fell on a gold wove banner high o'er the horde of handiwork, noblest, brilliantly broidered, so bright its gleam all the earth floor. He easily

saw and viewed all these vessels. No vestige now was seen of the serpent. The sword had taken him. Then I heard the hill of its hoard was reft old work of giants. By one alone. He burdened his bosom with beakers and plait at his own good will, and the ensign took brightest of beacons. The blade of his lord, its edge was iron, had injured deep one that had guarded the golden horde many a year, and its murder fires spread hot round the barrow in horror billows at

midnight hour till it met its doom. Hastened the herald the horde so spurred him his track to retrace. He was troubled by doubt. High souled hero, if haply he'd find alive where he left him, the lord of waiters, weakening fast by the wall of the cave. So he carried the load his lord and king. He found all bleeding famous chief at the lapse of life. The liegeman again plashed him with water, till point of word broke

through the breast hord. Beowulf spake sage and sad as he stared at the gold, for the gold and treasure, to God, my thanks to the wielder of wonders. With words I say for what I behold, to Heaven's Lord, for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk, or ever the day of my death be run. Now I've bartered here for booty of treasure, the last of my life. So look ye well to the needs of my land. No longer I tarry a barrow, Bid ye the battle fand raise for my ashes twill shine by

the shore of the flood to folk of mine. Memorial fare on Ron's head land high uplifted that ocean wanderers oft may hail Beowulf's sparrow, as back from far they drive their keels o'er the darkling wave. From his neck. He unclasp'd the collar of gold valorous king to his vassal, gave it with bright gold helmet, breastplate and ring to the youthful Thane. Bade him use them in joy. Thou

art end and remnant of all our race. The wagmunding name for word, hath swept them all my line to the land of doom earls in their glory, I after them go. This word was the last which the wise old man harbored in heart ere hot death. Waves of bale fire he chose from his bosom, fled his soul to seek the saint's reward. It was heavy hap for that hero young on his lord beloved to look and find him lying on earth with life at end sorrowful sight.

But the slayer too awful earth dragon, empty of breath, lay felt in fight, nor fain of its treasure. Could

the writhing monster rule it more? For edges of iron had ended its days hard in battle, sharp hammers leaving and that flier Afar had fallen to the ground, hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near, no longer lusty, aloft to whirl at midnight, making its merriment seen, proud of its prizes prone, it sank by the handiwork of the hero king forsooth among folk, but few achieve, though sturdy and strong, as stories tell me, and never so daring, Indeed a valor the perilous breath of a poison foe

to brave and to rush on the ring board hall, whenever his watch the warden keeps bold in the barrow. Beowulf paid the price of death for that precious horde, and each of the foes had found the end of this fleeting life. Befell ere long that the laggards in war the wood had left trothbreakers cowards, ten together, fearing before to flourish a spear in the sore distress of their sovereign lord. Now in their shame their shields they carried armor of fight. Where the old man lay, and

they gazed on Wiglaff. Wearied, he sat at his sovereign's shoulder, shieldsmen good to wake him with water. Nowise it availed, though well he wished it in world. No more could he bury her life for that leader of battles, nor baffle the will of all wielding God. Doom of the lord was law, or the deeds of every man, as it is to day grim was the answer easy to get from the youth for those that had yielded to

fear Wiglaf spoke the son of Weiersten, mournful. He looked on those men unloved, who sooth will speak, can say indeed that the ruler who gave you golden rings and the harness of war in which ye stand for he at ale bench oftentimes bestowed on hal folk, helm and breastplate, Lord to liegemen. The likeliest gear which nearer or far he could find to give, threw away and wasted these weeds of battle on men who failed. When the foemen came.

Not at all could the king of his comrades in arms venture to vaunt, though the victory wielder God gave him grace that he got revenge soul with his sword in stress and need to rescue his life, twas little that I could serve him in struggle, Yet shift I made hopeless. It seemed to help my kinsmen, its strength ever waned when with weapon I struck that fatal foe, and the fire less strongly flowed from its head. Too few the heroes in throe of contest that thronged to

our king. Now gift of treasure and girding of sword, joy of the house and home delight shall fail your folk his freehold land. Every clansman within your kin shall lose, and li eve when Lord's high born hear afar of that flight of yours a fameless deed. Yea death is better for liegemen all than a life of shame. That battle toil bade he at Burg to announce at the fort on the cliff, where full of sorrow, all the morning earls had sat daring shieldsmen in doubt of twain.

Would they wail as dead or welcome home their lord beloved little kept back of the tidings new, but told them all the herald that up the headland road now the willing giver to weder folk. In death bed lies the Lord of Gates. On the slaughter bed sleeps by the serpent's deed, and beside him is stretched that slayer of men with knife wounds, sick no sword availed on the awesome thing in any wise to work a wound.

Their wig laugh sitteth Wilston's barn by Beowulf's side, the living earl by the other dead, and heavy of heart, a head watch keeps or friend and foe. Now our folk may look for waging of war when once unhidden to Frisian and Frank, the fall of the king is

spread afar. The strike began when hot on the Hugos Hagelac fell and fared with his fleet to the Frisian land him There the hetwaras humbled in war, plied with such prowess, their power overwhelming that the bold in battle bowed beneath it and fell in fight to his friends. No wise could that earl give treasure. And ever since the Marrowing's favor has failed us wholly nor aught. Expect I of peace and faith from Swedish folk. Twas spread afar how ungan thou reft at ravenswood hyketh and brethling

of hope and life. When the folk of Gates for the first time sought in wanton pride, the warlike skilfings. Soon the sage old Sire of Altaire ancient and awful gave answering blow. The sea king he slew, and his spouse redeemed. His good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold, mother of Oterr and Onela. Then he followed his foes, who fled before him, sore beset, and stole their way,

bereft of a ruler, to Ravenswood. With his host, he besieged there what swords had left, the weary and wounded woes. He threatened the whole night through to that hard pressed throng. Some with the morrow his swords should kill, some should go to the gallows tree for rapture of ravens. But rescue came with dawn of day for those desperate men, when they heard the horn of Higlac sound tones of his trumpet. The trusty king had followed their trail with

faithful band. The bloody swath of Swedes and Gates, and the storm of their strife were seen afar. How folk against folk, the fight had wakened. The ancient king, with his atheling band, sought his citadel, sorrowing much ongan. Though Earl went up to his burg, he had tested Heiglac's hardihood. The proud one's prowess would prove it no longer defied no more those fighting wanderers, nor hoped from the seamen to save his hoard, his barn, and his bride. So

he bent him again old to his earth walls. Yet after him came with slaughter for swedes the standards of Higlac over peaceful plains in pride, advancing till threthlings fought in the fenced town. Then ungan thought with edge of sword. The hoary bearded was held at bay, and the folk king there was forced to suffer yeofor's anger in ire at the king wolf wan riding with weapons struck, and the chieftain's blood for that blow in streams flowed neath

his hair. No fear felt he stout old skilfing, but straightway repaid in better bargain that bitter stroke, and faced his foe with fell intent. Nor swift enough was the son of one rid answer to render the aged chief too soon on his head the helm was cloven, blood bedecked. He bowed to earth and fell adown. Not doomed was he yet, and well he waxed, though the wound was sore.

Then the hardy Haiglak fane when his brother fell with broad brand smote Giant's sword, crashing through Giant's helm across the shield wall, sank the king, his folk's old herdsman fatally hurt. There were many to bind the brother's wounds and lift him fast, as fate allowed his people to

wield the place of war. But yofor took from Ungenthal earl from other the eye, iron breastplate, hard sword, hilted and helmet too, and the hoar chief's harness to Higelac carried, who took the trappings and truly promised rich fee mid folk, and fulfilled it. So for that grim strike gave the Gaetish lord Rethel's offspring. When home he came to Yofur and Wolf a wealth of treasure. Each of them had a hundred thousand in land and linked rings. Nor at

less price reckoned mid earth men such mighty deeds. And to yofor he gave his only daughter in pledge of grace, the pride of his home. Such is the feud, the foeman's rage, death, hate of men. So I deem it sure that the Swedish folk will seek us home for this fall of their friends. The fighting Skilfings when once they learned that our warrior leader lifeless lies, who land and hoard ever defended from all his foes, furthered his

folk's will, finished his course a hardy hero. Now haste is best that we go to gaze on our gaytish lord, and bear the bountiful breaker of rings to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely shall burn with the warrior wealth of jewels, gold untold and gained in terror treasure. At last, with his life obtained, all of that booty the brands shall take, fire shall eat it. No earl must carry memorial jewel. No maiden fair shall wreathe her neck with noble ring.

Nay sad in spirit and shorn of her gold oft shall she pass o'er paths of exile. Now, our Lord, all laughter has laid aside, all mirth and revel. Many a spear morning cold shall be clasped, a main lifted aloft, Nor shall lilt of harp those warriors wake, But the wan hewed raven fain o'er the fallen his feast shall praise and boast to the eagle, how bravely he ate when he and the wolf were wasting the slain, So he told his sorrowful tidings, and little he lied the

loyal man of word or of work. The warriors rose sad. They climbed to the cliff of eagles, went welling with tears the wonder to view found on the sand there stretched at rest their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings of old upon them. Ending day had dawned on the doughty one death had seized in woeful slaughter the waiter's king. There saw they, besides the strangest, being loathsome lying their leader near prone on the field. The fiery dragon, fearful

fiend with flame, was scorched, reckoned by feet. It was fifty measures in length as it lay aloft ere while it had reveled by night and anon came back seeking its den. Now in death's sure clutch, it had come to the end of its earth Hall joys by it. There stood the stoops and jars, dishes lay there, and dear decked swords eaten with rest as on earth's lamp,

resting a thousand winters. They waited there for all that heritage huge, that gold of bygone men, was bound by a spell, so the treasure hall could be touched by none of human kind, save that Heaven's king, God himself might give whom he would helper of heroes the hoard to open. Even such a man, as it seemed to him, meet perilous path. It proved he trod who heinously hid that hall within wealth under wall. Its watcher had killed one of a few, and the feud was avenged in

woeful fashion. Wondrous seems it what manner a man of might and valor oft ends his life when the earl no longer in mead hall may live with loving friends. So Beowulf, when that barrow's wooden he sought, and the struggle himself knew not in what wise he should wend from the world at last, for Princess Potent, who placed the gold with a curse to doomsday, covered it deep, so that marked with sin, the man should be hedged with horrors, and hell bounds fast racked with plagues. Who

should rob their horde. Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of Heaven ever had the king kept in view. Wig Laugh, spoke the son of Worston, at the mandate of one oft warriors. Many sorrow may suffer, and so must we the people's shepherds showed not aught of care for our counsel. King beloved that guardian of gold. He should grapple, not urged we, but let him lie where he long had been, in his Earth's hall, waiting at

the end of the world, the hest of heaven. This hoard is ours, but grievously gotten too grim the fate which thither carried our King and Lord. I was within there, and all I viewed the chambered treasure when chance allowed me, and my path was made in no pleasant wise under the earth wall. Eager I seized such heap from the hoard as hands could bear, and hurriedly carried it hither back to my legion, Lord alive, he was still still

wielding his wits. The wise old man spake much in his sorrow, and sent you greetings, and bade yet ye build when he breathe no more on the place of his balefire, a barrel high memorial. Mighty of men, was he worthiest warrior wide earth over the while he had joy of his jewels and burgh. Let us set out in haste now the second time, to see and search this store of treasure. These wall hid wonders, the way I show you where gathered near, ye may gaze your

fill at broad golden rings. Let the bier soon made be all in order. When out we come our King and Captain, to carry thither man beloved, where long he shall bide safe in the shelter of sovereign God. Then the barn of Worston bade command hardy chief to heroes, many that owned their homesteads hither to bring firewood from

far or the folk they ruled. For the famed one's funeral, fire shall devour and wan flame's feed on the fearless warrior who oft stood stout in the iron shower, when sped from string a storm of arrows shot, or the shield wall the shaft held firm featly feathered. Followed the barb and now the sage, young son of Worston seven, chose of the chieftain's thains the best. He found that band within, and went with these warriors, one of eight, under hostile roof in hand, one bore a lighted torch

and led the way. No lots they cast for keeping the horde. When once the warriors saw it in hall altogether without a guardian, lying there lost and little they mourned. When they had hastily hailed it out, Dear bought treasure the drag, and they cast the worm o'er the wall for the wave to take, and surges swallowed that shepherd of gems. Then the woven gold on a wain was laden countless quite, and the king was born hoary hero

to crone's nest. Then fashioned for him the folk of Gates firm on the earth a funeral pile, and hung it with helmets and harness of war and breastplates, bright as the boon, he asked, and they laid it amid the mighty chieftain heroes, mourning their master.

brave's beacon, round brands of the pyre. A wall they built the worthiest ever that wit could prompt in their wisest men, they placed in the barrow that precious booty, the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile hardy heroes from hoard in cave, trusting the ground with treasure of earls, gold in the earth wherever it lies, useless to men as of yore. It was then about that barrow the battle keen road, Athelingbourne, a band of twelve lament to make to mourn their king, chant, their dirge,

and their chieftain honor. They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess worthily witnessed, and well it is that men their master friend mightily laud heartily love, when hence he goes from life in the body forlorn away. Thus made their mourning. The men of Gateland, for their heroes, passing his hearth come companions quoth that of all the kings of earth, of men, he was mildest and most beloved to his kin, the kindest, keenest for praise. End of Section eight, end of Beowulf