Authors: Frederick Rebsamen
 |                                    Not the least of battles |
 | was the meeting of hands where Hygelac died |
 | king of the Geats who came to his death-fight |
 | in the land of Frisians far from his homeâ |
 | Hrethel's warrior-son won his death there |
 | battered by swordswings. Beowulf escaped |
2360 | by the might of his hands hard grappling-strengthâ |
 | he hauled to the shore helmets and corselets |
 | of thirty warriors from the throng of battle |
 | when he turned towards the sea. Seldom did warriors |
 | of the Hetware race have reason to boast |
 | of fierce spear-battleâfew clung to life |
 | to seek their homeland after hard swordbites. |
 | Then Ecgtheow's son only survivor |
 | sailed heart-heavy to the home of the Geats. |
 | There Hygd offered him hoard and kingdom |
2370 | did not trust her boy to take the gift-throne |
 | defend it strongly against slaughtering guests |
 | harbor it from harm after Hygelac's death-day. |
 | None the sooner for that could sorrowing Geatfolk |
 | beg Beowulf to borrow their throne |
 | take loan of the gift-hall from beloved Heardred |
 | child-king of Hygelac chosen by his bloodâ |
 | he hailed him as lord held him in friendship |
 | counseled him kindly till he came to manhood |
 | and the Geats' gift-throne. |
 |                                    Grim fugitives |
2380 | sons of Ohthere sought his help thereâ |
 | they fled from Onela uncle and throne-thief |
 | greatest of sea-kings Swedes' warrior-lord |
 | who seized the gift-hall from his good brother-sons. |
 | Heardred paid there for hosting his friendsâ |
 | Hygelac's child-king chose a life-wound |
 | when throne-hungry Onela Ongentheow's son |
 | followed his nephews felled young Eanmund |
 | then fled to his homeland when Heardred lay deadâ |
 | left the gift-hall the Geats' kingdom |
2390 | in Beowulf's care. He was kind to his people. |
 | He remembered that day dark murder-time |
 | gave then to Eadgils good warrior-help |
 | backed him in sorrowâwith swordmen and horses |
 | he sent that young one beyond the lake-waters, |
 | Ohthere's son, who settled that feud |
 | mindful of slaughter, stepped to the throne |
 | of the Swedish kingdom. |
 |                                    Then King Beowulf |
 | Ecgtheow's son-child suffered and triumphed |
 | burnishing his name with bright gift-years |
2400 | till that fearful twilight when the fire-dragon soared. |
 | He marched then to battle one man among twelve |
 | lord of the Geatfolk to look at that monster. |
 | He had seen before then the source of that feud |
 | cause of that tormentâit came to his hand |
 | precious treasure-cup through that poor fugitive |
 | who had angered the dragon entered his gold-barrowâ |
 | that thief-slave was now the thirteenth among them |
 | unwilling guide-servant guiltily led them |
 | to the sleeping serpent. He stepped fearfully |
2410 | to the old earth-hall ancient stonebarrow |
 | under the seacliff set into the rock |
 | near the swirling waves. In its walls were gathered |
 | gems and goldwork. The guard of that treasure |
 | monstrous fire-warrior minded his booty |
 | held it under earthânot easily bought |
 | was that glittering gold not given away. |
 | He sat by the cliffside keeper of the Geats |
 | hailed his men then hearth-companions |
 | wished them good luck. His wavering heart-thoughts |
2420 | wandered towards deathâwyrd was close then |
 | ready to receive that solemn warrior-king |
 | seek out his soulhoard sunder it from breath |
 | spirit from body-fleshâthe center of his life |
 | would soon be delivered from its locked flesh-home. |
 | Beowulf spoke son of Ecgtheow: |
 | “Fierce spear-charges I fought in my youth |
 | moments of shieldclashâI remember it all. |
 | In my seventh life-year I was sent from my father |
 | given for training to that good folk-king |
2430 | Hrethel of the Geats who gave me father-love |
 | measured my childhood mindful of our kinship. |
 | No less was I loved in those long growth-days |
 | than the sons of that king kind uncle-friends |
 | Herebeald and Haethcyn and Hygelac my lord. |
 | The oldest of his sons by sorrowful chance |
 | slept in a murder-bed through a sibling's error |
 | when Haethcyn was shamed shot from a horn-bow |
 | wounded Herebeald with a wandering arrow |
 | missed his target murdered his elder |
2440 | his blood-loyal brother with a baleful point. |
 | No payment was made for that pitiful crime |
 | but aching heartwounds were offered to Hrethelâ |
 | no vengeance followed the fall of that prince. |
 | Same is the sorrow of a solemn hall-lord |
 | sharp soul-torture when his son rides hanging |
 | young upon the gallows. Then he gropes for mercy |
 | sings a horror-song as his son dangles there |
 | food for the ravenâhe can find no help |
 | no mercy or revenge for his mourning heart. |
2450 | Each morning his mind measures that deathfall |
 | his son's departureâno patience soothes him |
 | to wait through the years for young followers |
 | heirs to his treasure when his only prince |
 | has spoken his last left him for darkness. |
 | He stares in sorrow at his son's life-home |
 | the wasted wine-hall by winds emptied |
 | bereft of bench-joyâriders are sleeping now |
 | silent in their gravesâno sound of the harp |
 | warms the meadhall where men once gathered. |
2460 | He stays in his bed sings his heartsongs |
 | no longer does he roamâtoo roomy they seem |
 | fields and homestead. So Hrethel in his way |
 | grieved for Herebeald heavy with bloodgrief |
 | wandering in painâno way could he find |
 | to bring his slayer to settle for that death |
 | nor could he hate Haethcyn his blood-son |
 | or love him still for that loathsome deed. |
 | His grief was too great too grim for livingâ |
 | he gave up his hall-joy for God's comfort. |
2470 | To his kin he gave as a king should do |
 | his land and homestead when he left this earthyard. |
 | Then trouble began between Geats and Battle-Swedes |
 | across the lakelands as they clashed in shield-war |
 | hard killing-times after Hrethel's deathday |
 | when sons of Ongentheow sought out the Geats |
 | with angry armies not eager for peace |
 | held them to sword-play at Hreosnabeorh's mound |
 | struck against their shields with sharp blade-edges. |
 | Later in that kind my kinsmen answered them |
2480 | took then their blood-pay as the tale is known |
 | though one paid there with his precious life-breath |
 | a hard bargainâHaethcyn fell deathwards |
 | king of the Geats killed in spear-battle. |
 | On the morrow, I heard, a man took vengeance |
 | with swift sword-anger slew that king-killer |
 | when Eofor quenched there Ongentheow's life |
 | mindful of hall-gifts remembered his lord |
 | did not spare his swordswing split through the helmetâ |
 | the battle-bleak Swede bent down to death. |
2490 | I repaid lord Hygelac in proud battle-play |
 | for the treasure he gave times of the gift-throne, |
 | served him with my sword. He soon gave me land |
 | homestead and meadhall. He had no reason |
 | to search among Gifthas or good Spear-Danes |
 | or the Swedish kingdom for servants to his throne |
 | to lavish rewards on a lesser warriorâ |
 | always at swordtime I stood before them all |
 | guided my spearmen in strong war-clashing |
 | and still I am ready while this sword endures |
2500 | this treasured Naegling that I took from death |
 | on that sorrowful day when I slew Daeghrefn |
 | killed him with my hands Hugas' sword-championâ |
 | no time did he have to take corpse-plunder |
 | fetch breast-corselets to the Frisian leader |
 | but gave up his life guardian of the banner |