Then in the dawn, with the break of day,
Grendel’s war-strength was made known to men.
After the night’s feasting, a lament now rose up,
great cry in the morning. The glorious king,
as always a noble, sat full of sorrow,
the great one grieving over his lost thanes.
Soon after they saw foot-tracks of their foe,
the cursed stranger. That struggle had been too strong,
too loathsome and long-lasting! Nor was there respite,
but after one night, Grendel once more committed
yet more murderous slaughter. He mourned not
for his horrid deeds: he was too bent on those.
Then was it easy to find one who elsewhere
sought far-away for his place of rest,
his bed in an out-building-when danger became clear,
as the truth was told by signs of the terror,
the hatred of this hall-stalker. Thus he held himself
far-off and more safe by escaping the fiend.
So Grendel held sway and fought against right,
alone against all, till the best of houses
was left idle. A long time passed,
twelve winters all-told, while the lord of the Scyldings
endured great grief, every kind of woe,
a surging of sorrows. Thus to the nations,
both far and wide, it became known
through tales sadly sung, that Grendel fought
a long while against Hrothgar—waged his terrors,
wicked and fearsome, for many half-years
d
in unending strife. He did not desire peace
with any warrior of the Danish host,
nor to lift the life-threat in return for payment.
None of the Scyldings could surely expect
fair compensation from the killer’s hands,
but the horrid monster, a dark death-shadow,
harried the heroes, laid in wait to ambush
both warriors and youths. He held through the night
the moors thick with mist, and men knew not
where that hell-demon would glide in his wanderings.
Thus again and again, this foe of mankind,
this friendless horror, carried out a host of crimes,
of hard humiliations. He held sway in Heorot,
the brilliant hall, in the black of night;
yet could not come near the rich gift-throne,
protected by God, not knowing God’s love.
That was much misery for the lord of the Scyldings,
near breaking of spirit. Many noble Danes
sat often in council to consider what advice
was best for the band of strong-hearted warriors
to defend against sudden attacks of terror.
For a time they prayed in heathen temples,
worshipping idols, and pleading with words
for the Slayer of Souls to come to their aid
in the nation’s crisis. Such then was their custom,
the hope of heathens; in their hearts
they bore hell, they knew not the Creator,
the Judge of all deeds—neither acknowledged the Lord,
nor knew how to praise the Protector of Heaven,
the Ruler of Glory. Woe be to the one,
who through terrible sin, would shove his soul
into the fire’s embrace, foregoing all hope,
with no chance of change! Happy the one,
who after his death-day, may seek the Ruler
for peace and protection in the Father’s arms.
10
—III—
Because of this horror, the son of Healfdene
seethed with sorrow, nor might the wise hero
put aside woe. That struggle was too strong,
hateful and long-lasting, which had come on the people,
dire wrack and ruin—the greatest of night-evils.
In his own homeland, the thane of Hygelac,
e
the valiant Geat, heard the tales told of Grendel.
This Geat was among men the greatest in strength,
most noble and mighty, for as long as his life-days
were destined to last. He directed a wave-traveler
to be well prepared, and said he would seek
the Danish war-king, that renowned ruler,
over the swan-road,
f
since the Dane was in need.
The wise men of the Geats could find no fault
with that journey, though their hero to them was dear:
they inspected the omens and urged on the brave one.
This excellent chieftain had chosen as comrades
the best and the bravest from among the Geats
that he might find. With these fourteen
he sought the sea-planks, a skillful sailor,
leading the way down to the end of the land.
The time was ready, with the ship on the waves,
the boat beneath cliffs. Well-equipped young warriors
stepped up on the prow. Sea-currents wound round,
sea against sand. Then the warriors bore
into the ship’s bosom the shining war-gear,
their splendid arms. The men shoved off
the well-bound vessel, for the much-sought voyage.
The foamy-necked boat, most like a bird,
soared over the waves, made eager by wind—
until in due time, the following day,
the tightly-wound prow had traveled so far
that the seafarers now sighted the land:
shining shore-cliffs, the towering banks,
the broad headlands. The boat crossed the waters,
to the end of the sea. Then swiftly they rose.
Men of the Weders
g
mounted up on the shore,
made fast the wood vessel, and shook their mail-shirts,
their armor for war. Then they thanked God
that the path through the waves was easily passed.
High on the cliff, the Danes’ coastguard watched,
charged with protecting the borders by the sea.
As he saw strangers bear bright shields from their ship,
armor ready for use, curiosity pressed into his thoughts,
as he wondered just what these strange men were.
He went right to the shore riding on his horse,
this thane of Hrothgar, and shook the great spear
he held in his hand, while with formal words he asked:
“What bold men are you, thus bearing your arms,
protected by mail, who have made such a journey
in a tall ship traversing the sea-road,
to come here over the waves? Hear me! I have long
been guard of the coast, held watch by the sea,
so no hateful enemy might launch an attack
with a ship-army in the land of the Scyldings.
Never have shield-bearers come to these shores
more openly than you. Nor could you be sure
of words of welcome from our war-leaders,
consent from our kinsmen. Never have I seen
a greater earl on the earth than one of you,
a man in his war-gear. He is no hall-retainer,
ennobled with weapons, unless his looks belie him,
given his peerless form. Now, I must press you,
to know your lineage, lest you venture forth,
any farther from here, as enemy spies
into the land of the Danes. Now, you far-dwellers,
you seafaring men who have come as strangers,
hear my plain thought: haste would be best
for you to make known your home and your nation.”
—IV
—
The chief among those seamen made answer,
the war-band leader unlocked his word-hoard:
“We have come from the country of the Geats,
and are hearth-companions of Hygelac.
My father was well known among the nations,
a noble chieftain, Ecgtheow by name.
He weathered many winters till he passed away,
an old man from his homeland; every one of the wise
throughout the wide earth remembers him well.
In friendly spirit we have come here to seek
your own high ruler, the son of Healfdene,
protector of his people. May you give us good counsel!
We have come on a quest to that famous one,
the king of the Danes: nothing will be concealed,
held back when we meet. Now you must know,
if it has been told truly, as we have heard,
that a foe of the Scyldings—of what sort I know not—
a mysterious hate-dealer, with terror displays
unthinkable evil during dark nights,
humiliation and slaughter. So for this I seek
to counsel Hrothgar in heart-felt friendship,
how the wise and good king, may overcome
the fiend—
if ever relief should come to reverse
the terrible affliction of all these evils—
and his surges of sorrow then become cooler.
Or else ever after he will suffer distress,
a terrible fate, while towering on high
the best of halls will remain without joy.”
The guardian spoke, seated on horseback,
a fearless captain: “A shrewd shield-warrior
must judge the meanings of each of two things,
of words and of works, if he thinks clearly.
I hear and judge that this is a force friendly
to the lord of the Scyldings. You have my leave
to go forth bearing weapons. I will guide you.
And I shall bid my band of young thanes
to guard with honors against all enemies
your sea-going vessel, the new-tarred ship
there on the sand—until once again it bears
its noble seafarer over streams of the deep,
in the wound-wood prow to the land of the Weders,
a good people, as it may be granted by fate
that through the battle-storm he may safely pass.”
With him they went forth. Their vessel stayed,
the broad-bosomed ship, at rest on its ropes,
held fast by an anchor. Images of boars shone
over helmet cheek-guards glowing with gold,
flashing and fire-hard-the war-minded boar watched
over life for the grim ones.
11
The men made haste,
marching together, till they might see
the timbered hall, grand and gold-adorned,
the greatest of buildings among earth-dwellers,
of all under heaven. That hall housed the mighty king,
its light shining far over many lands.
The battle-brave coastguard pointed out to them
the splendid hall, so they might themselves
go directly there. Then this Danish warrior
turned round his steed, and spoke these words:
“The time has come for me to go. May the almighty
Father favor you with help, and grant to you
a safe venture. I return to the sea
to hold my watch against hostile foes.”
—V—
The way was cobbled, and it guided the men
marching together. The war-mail shone,
the bright iron rings linked hard by hand,
so the battle-gear sang. Thus they proceeded,
in their awesome arms, to go to the hall.
The sea-weary men set down their broad shields,
with the powerful bosses, by the side of the hall.
As the men sat on a bench, the mail rang out,
the battle-shirts of heroes. Their spears stood tall,
the weapons of warriors all gathered together,
a grove of ash-woods gray at their tips. That company
of iron
was honored with weapons!
Then a proud Dane
questioned these warriors about their origin:
“From what place do you bear these gold-plated shields,
these gray shirts of mail and sheltering helmets,
this stock of battle-shafts? I am Hrothgar’s
herald and attendant. Never have I seen
so many foreign men more brave in their bearing.
I think you seek Hrothgar—not in haughty pride,
nor as exiles without homes, but for greatness of heart.”
The one famed for strength, proud chief of the Weders,
answered the attendant, speaking formal words
with force from his helmet: “We are Hygelac’s
drinking-bowl companions. Beowulf is my name.
I wish to speak to the son of Healfdene,
the renowned king, your own great ruler,
about my goal in coming, if he will grant
that we may meet with such a gracious lord.”
Then spoke Hrothgar’s herald, Wulfgar the Wendel,
whose honor was known among many men,
with his valor and wisdom: “I will go in to the king
to discuss with the friend and lord of the Danes,
the lord of the Scyldings, giver of great rings,
regarding your venture as you request;
and his reply I will make known right away,
whatever he wishes to give you in answer.”
The herald went quickly to where Hrothgar sat,
old and most hoary, among his band of earls.
That one famed for courage stood before the shoulders
of the Danish lord; he knew well the customs of the court.
Wulfgar spoke to his well-loved leader:
“To us from afar over the sea’s expanse
men have come from the homeland of the Geats.
The warriors call their chief comrade-in-arms
Beowulf by name. They bid that you may grant,
my generous lord, that with you they may
have concourse with words. Do not refuse this request
in the answer you give, gracious Hrothgar!
Dressed in their war-gear, they appear worthy
of the honor of earls. Their chief is specially strong,
who led these warriors to our land.”
—VI—
Hrothgar spoke, protector of the Scyldings:
“I have known this one since he was a boy.
His father was known by the name of Ecgtheow,
to whom Hrethel of the Geats gave in marriage
his only daughter. His son has now
boldly come here to seek out a faithful friend.
It is said among many seafaring men
who have taken treasures to the Geats as gifts
for thanks to that people—that this one has
won fame in fighting, with thirty men’s might
in the grip of his hand. The holy God
has sent him to help our people of the
West-Danes, so we may have hope
against the dread of Grendel. For his daring
I shall give great gifts to this good man.
Go in haste and bid these guests come in
to see our kinsmen, comrades gathered together.
Speak to them these words—that they are welcome
among the people of the Danes.” [Then to the door
went the honored herald]
h
to speak words from within:
“My victorious leader, the lord of the East Danes,
bids me tell you that he knows your lineage,
and that you brave men who have come to him
over the sea-surgings are welcome here.
Now you may go wearing your war-gear,
with heads under helmets, in to see Hrothgar.
You shall leave here at rest your battle-shields,
and your wooden spears, while words are exchanged.”
The mighty Geat arose, and warriors with him,
a brave band of thanes. Some remained in place,
guards over war-gear, as directed by their leader.
They quickly went, as the herald led the way,
under Hrothgar’s hall-roof. [The hero strode,]
stern under helmet, till he stood on the hearth.
Then Beowulf spoke—on him the armor shone,
the mail-shirt linked by skills of the smith:
“Hail to you, Hrothgar! I am Hygelac’s kinsman
and devoted thane; already in youth I have done
many glorious deeds. Tales about Grendel
have come to my ears in my own homeland.
Seafaring men have said that this hall,
the best of buildings, stands idle and useless
for all you warriors, after the light of evening
becomes hidden under the cover of heaven.
Then those known in my nation as the very best
among the wise counselors, gave me advice
to look for ways to help you, Lord Hrothgar,
since they knew the power of my strength—
for they had watched when from battles I came,
stained with blood of foes: once I bound five,
destroyed the kin of giants; and in the sea slew
water-monsters at night while in dire distress;
won vengeance for Weders, ground down hateful foes—
those asked for woe. And now with Grendel,
that horrid demon, I shall hold alone
a meeting with the monster. Thus, of you,
chief among Bright-Danes, protector of Scyldings,
I wish to ask for one favor, in the fervent hope
that you not refuse me—0 ruler of warriors,
O dear friend of the folk—since I have come from afar:
that I alone, with my band of bold comrades,
these brave warriors here, may cleanse Heorot.
I have asked and have learned that this monster,
in his reckless folly, forswears using weapons.
Therefore, so that my lord Hygelac may have
pride in my venture, I will myself scorn
to bear a sword, or a broad yellow shield,
to wage this battle. But I shall hand-to-hand
grapple with this demon, and fight to the death,
foe against foe. There one must trust the judgment
of God as to which is carried away by death.
I expect Grendel will, if he may wield power
over bold men of the Geats in the battle-hall,
feed on the flesh of his enemies,
as he has often done. There will be no need
to cover my head, but he will have me,
dripping with blood, if death bears me off.
He will carry the corpse to gobble the gore,
this lone-going creature, greedy in eating,
drooling in the moors. You need not be moved
to fret for long over this feeding on me.
If the battle bears me off, send to Hygelac
the best of war-garments defending my breast,
the hard linked mail—left to me by Hrethel,
the work of Weland. Wyrd
i
goes ever as it must!”