Beowulf (trans. S.

Heaney, excerpts)
The Danes and the ship burial scene Orders for work to adorn that wall stead
Were sent to many peoples. And soon it stood there,
[…] They stretched their beloved lord in his boat,
Finished and ready, in full view,
laid out by the mast, amidships,
The hall of halls. Heorot was the name
the great ring-giver. Far-fetched treasures
He had settled on it, whose utterance was law.
were piled upon him, and precious gear.
Nor did he renege, but doled out rings
I never heard before of a ship so well furbished
And torques at the table. The hall towered,
with battle tackle, bladed weapons
Its gables wide and high and awaiting
and coats of mail. The massed treasure
A barbarous burning. That doom abided,
was loaded on top of him: it would travel far
But in time it would come: the killer instinct
on out into the ocean's sway.
Unleashed among in-laws, the blood lust rampant.
They decked his body no less bountifully
Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark,
with offerings than those first ones did
Nursed a hard grievance. It harrowed him
who cast him away when he was a child
To hear the din of the loud banquet
and launched him alone out over the waves.
Every day in the hall, the harp being struck
And they set a gold standard up
And the clear song of a skilled poet
high above his head and let him drift
Telling with mastery of man’s beginnings,
to wind and tide, bewailing him
How the Almighty had made the earth
and mourning their loss […]
A gleaming plain girdled with waters;

Then it fell to Beow to keep the forts. Grendel attacks Herot

He was well regarded and ruled the Danes
For a long time after his father took leave Then a powerful demon, a prowler through the dark,
Of his life on earth. And then his heir, Nursed a hard grievance. It harrowed him
The great Halfdane, held sway To hear the din of the loud banquet
For as long as he lived, their elder and warlord. Every day in the hall, the harp being struck
He was four times a father, this fighter prince: And the clear song of a skilled poet
One by one they entered the world, Telling with mastery of man’s beginnings,
Heorogar, Hrothgar, the good Halga How the Almighty had made the earth
And a daughter, I have heard, who was Onela’s queen, A gleaming plain girdled with waters;
A balm in bed to the battle-scarred Swede. In His splendour He set the sun and moon
To be earth’s lamplight, lanterns for men,
Hrothgar And filled the broad lap of the world
With branches and leaves; and quickened life
The fortunes of war favored Hrothgar.
In every other thing that moved. […]
Friends and kinsmen flocked to his ranks,
Young followers, a force that grew So, after nightfall, Grendel set out
For the lofty house, to see how the Ring-Danes
Were settling into it after their drink,
To be a mighty army. So his mind turned And there he came upon them, a company of the best
To hall-building: he handed down orders Asleep from their feasting, insensible to pain
For men to work on a great mead-hall And human sorrow. Suddenly then
Meant to be a wonder of the world forever; The God-cursed brute was creating havoc:
It would be his throne room and there he would dispense Greedy and grim, he grabbed thirty men
His God-given goods to young and old From their resting places and rushed to his lair,
But not the common land or people’s lives. Flushed up and inflamed from the raid,
Far and wide through the world, I have heard, Blundering back with the butchered corpses.
Then as dawn brightened and the day broke
Grendel’s powers of destruction were plain: […]
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So Grendel ruled in defiance of right, Battle with Grendel and victory
One against all, until the greatest house
In the world stood empty, a deserted wall stead. In off the moors, down through the mist-bands
For twelve winters, seasons of woe, God-cursed Grendel came greedily loping.
The lord of the Shieldings suffered under The bane of the race of men roamed forth,
His load of sorrow; and so, before long, Hunting for a prey in the high hall. […]
The news was known over the whole world. The hall clattered and hammered, but somehow
[…] Survived the onslaught and kept standing:
A hero arrives It was handsomely structured, a sturdy frame
Braced with the best of blacksmith’s work
When he heard about Grendel, Hygelac’s thane Inside and out. The story goes
Was on home ground, over in Geatland. That as the pair struggled, mead benches were smashed
There was no one else like him alive. And sprung off the floor, gold fittings and all. […]
In his day, he was the mightiest man on earth,
Highborn and powerful. He ordered a boat Locked in a handgrip. As long as either lived
That would ply the waves. He announced his plan: He was hateful to the other. The monster’s whole
To sail the swan’s road and search out that king, Body was in pain, a tremendous wound
The famous prince who needed defenders. […] Appeared on his shoulder. Sinews split
And the bone-lappings burst. Beowulf was granted
Like the leader he was, enlisting men, The glory of winning; Grendel was driven
The best he could find; with fourteen others Under the fen banks, fatally hurt,
The warrior boarded the boat as captain, To his desolate lair. His days were numbered,
A canny pilot along coast and currents. […] The end of his life was coming over him,
He knew it for certain; and one bloody clash
The leader of the troop unlocked his word-hoard; Had fulfilled the dearest wishes of the Danes.
The distinguished one delivered this answer: The man who had lately landed among them,
“We belong by birth to the Geat people Proud and sure, had purged the hall,
And owe allegiance to Lord Hygelac. Kept it from harm; he was happy with his night-work
In his day, my father was a famous man, And the courage he had shown. The Geat captain
A noble warrior name Ecgtheow. Had boldly fulfilled his boast to the Danes:
He outlasted many a long winter
And went on his way. All over the world Victory gifts for Beowulf
Men wise in council continue to remember him.
We come in good faith to find your lord Then Halfdane’s son presented Beowulf
And nation’s shield, the son of Halfdane. With gold standards as a victory gift,
Give us the right advice and direction. An embroidered banner; also breast-mail
We have arrived here on a great errand And a helmet; and a sword carried high,
To the lord of the Danes, and I believe therefore That was both precious object and token of honor. […]
There should be nothing hidden or withheld between us. The cup was carried to him, kind words
So tell us if what we have heard is true spoken in welcome and a wealth of wrought gold
About this threat, whatever it is, graciously bestowed: two arm bangles,
This danger abroad in the dark nights, a mail-shirt and rings, and the most resplendent
This corpse-maker mongering death torque of gold I ever heard tell of
In the Shieldings’ country. I come to proffer anywhere on earth or under heaven. […]
My wholehearted help and counsel. The role and of poetry
I can show the wise Hrothgar a way
To defeat his enemy and find respite They sang then and played to please the hero,
If any respite is to reach him, ever. words and music for their warrior prince,
harp tunes and tales of adventure:
there were high times on the hall benches

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and the king's poet performed his part King of the Geats and another dragon
with the saga of Finn and his sons, unfolding
the tale of the fierce attack in Friesland […] the wide kingdom
where Hnaef, king of the Danes, met death. Reverted to Beowulf. He ruled it well
For fifty winters, grew old and wise
Beowulf on fate and heroism As warden of the land,
Until one began
For every one of us, living in this world To dominate the dark, a dragon on the prowl
means waiting for our end. Let whoever can From the steep vaults of a stone-roofed barrow […]
win glory before death. When a warrior is gone,
that will be his best and only bulwark. Then Beowulf was given bad news,
A hard truth: his own home,
Grendel’s mother The best of buildings, had been burnt to a cinder,
She came to Heorot. There, inside the hall, The throne-room of the Geats. It threw the hero
Danes lay asleep, earls who would soon know Into deep anguish and darkened his mood […]
A great reversal once Grendel’s mother Beowulf spoke, made a formal boast
Attacked and entered. Then in the hall, hardhoned swords For the last time: “I risked my life
Were grabbed from the bench, many a broad shield Often when I was young. Now I am old,
Lifted and braced; there was little thought of helmets But as king of the people, I shall pursue this fight
Or woven mail when they woke in terror. For the glory of winning, if the evil one will
The hell-dam was in panic, desperate to get out, Abandon his earth-fort and face me in the open.”
In mortal terror the moment she was found.
She had pounced and taken one of the retainers Wiglaf’s loyalty
In a tight hold, then headed for the fen. […]
And now the youth
Then the prince of War-Geats, warming to his fight was to enter the line of battle with his lord,
With Grendel’s mother, gripped her shoulder his first time to be tested as a fighter.
And laid about him in a battle frenzy: His spirit did not break and the ancestral blade
He pitched his killer opponent to the floor would keep its edge, as the dragon discovered
But she rose quickly and retaliated, as soon as they came together in the combat.
Grappled him tightly in her grim embrace. The sure- Sad at heart, addressing his companions,
footed fight felt suddenly daunted, Wiglaf spoke wise and fluent words:
The strongest of warriors stumbled and fell. "I remember that time when mead was flowing,
So she pounced upon him and pulled out how we pledged loyalty to our lord in the hall,
A broad, whetted knife: now she would avenge promised our ring-giver we would be worth our price,
Her only child. […] make good the gift of the war-gear,
[…] Holy God those swords and helmets, as and when
Decided the victory. It was easy for the Lord, his need required it. He picked us out
The Ruler of Heaven, to redress the balance from the army deliberately, honoured us and judged us
Once Beowulf got back on his feet. fit for this action, made me these lavish gifts—
Then he saw a blade that boded well, and all because he considered us the best
A sword in her armory, an ancient heirloom […] of his arms-bearing thanes. And now, although
Took a firm hold of the hilt and swung he wanted this challenge to be one he'd face
The blade in an arc, a resolute blow by himself alone—the shepherd of our land,
That bit deep into her neck bone a man unequalled in the quest for glory
and a name for daring—now the day has come
And severed it entirely, toppling the doomed
House of her flesh; she fell to the floor. […] when this lord we serve needs sound men
to give him their support. Let us go to him,
help our leader through the hot flame
and dread of the fire. As God is my witness,

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I would rather my body were robed in the same Go now quickly,
burning blaze as my gold-giver's body dearest Wiglaf, under the grey stone
than go back home bearing arms. where the dragon is laid out, lost to his treasure;
hurry to feast your eyes on the hoard.
The final battle Away you go: I want to examine
After those words, a wildness rose that ancient gold, gaze my fill
In the dragon again and drove it to attack, on those garnered jewels; my going will be easier
Heaving up fire, hunting for enemies, for having seen the treasure, a less troubled letting-go
The humans it loathed. Flames lapped the shield, of the life and lordship I have long maintained."
Charred it to the boss, and the body armor Beowulf’s death and funeral
On the young warrior was useless to him.
But Wiglaf did well under the wide rim It was hard then on the young hero,
Beowulf shared with him, once his own had shattered Having to watch the one he held so dear
In sparks and ashes. There on the ground, going through
His death agony. The dragon from underearth,
Inspired again By the thought of glory, the war- His nightmarish destroyer, lay destroyed as well,
king threw His whole strength behind a sword-stroke Utterly without life. […]
And connected with the skull. […]
The Geat people built a pyre for Beowulf,
Once again the king Stacked and decked it until it stood foursquare,
Gathered his strength and drew a stabbing knife Hung with helmets, heavy warshields
He carried on his belt, sharpened for battle. And shining armor, just as he had ordered.
He stuck it deep into the dragon’s flank. Then his warriors laid him in the middle of it,
Beowulf dealt it a deadly wound. Mourning a lord farfamed and beloved.
They had killed the enemy, their courage quelled his life; On a height they kindled the hugest of all Funeral fires
That pair of kinsmen, partners in nobility, […]
Had destroyed the foe. So every man should act,
Be at hand when needed; but now, for the king, Then the Geat people began to construct
This would be the last of his many labors A mound on a headland, high and imposing,
And triumphs in the world A marker that sailors could see from far away, […]

Then the wound Dealt by the ground-burner earlier began They housed inside it, behind a wall
To scald and swell; Beowulf discovered As worthy of him as their workmanship could make it.
Deadly poison suppurating inside him, And they buried torques in the barrow, and jewels
Surges of nausea, and so, in his wisdom, And a trove of such things as trespassing men
The prince realized his state and proceeded Had once dared to drag from the hoard.
Towards a seat on the rampart. He steadied his gazed They let the ground keep that ancestral treasure,
On those gigantic stones, saw how the earthwork Gold under gravel, gone to earth,
Was braced with arches built over columns. As useless to men now as it ever was. […]
And now that thane, unequalled for goodness
With his own hands washed his lord’s wounds, They extolled his heroic nature and exploits
Swabbed the weary prince with water, And gave thanks for his greatness; which was the proper
Bathed him clean, unbuckled his helmet. thing,
Beowulf spoke, in spite of his wounds, For a man should praise a prince whom he holds dear
Mortal wounds, he still spoke And cherish his memory when that moment comes
For he well knew his days in the world When he has to be convoyed from his bodily home.
Had been lived out to the end: his allotted time So the Geat people, his hearth companions,
Was drawing to a close, death was very near. […] Sorrowed for the lord who had been laid low.
They said that of all the kings upon the earth
Beowulf’s last wish He was the man most gracious and fair-minded,
Kindest to his people and keenest to win fame.
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