Unique and beautiful, Beowulf brings to life a society of violence and honor, fierce warriors and bloody battles, deadly monsters and famous swords. Written by an unknown poet in about the eighth century, this masterpiece of Anglo-Saxton literature transforms legends, myth, history, and ancient songs into the richly colored tale of the hero Beowulf, the loathsome man-eater Grendel, his vengeful water-hag mother, and a treasure-hoarding dragon. The earliest surviving epic poem in any modern European language. Beowulf is a stirring portrait of a heroic world–somber, vast, and magnificent.
Beowulf and Other Old English Poems
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The identity of Beowulf’s author and the exact date and place of its composition are unknown. A single copy of the poem, dated about the year 1000, survived Henry VIII’s destruction of England’s monasteries and was collected by Sir Robert Cotton. This copy was damaged, but not disastrously, in a library fire in 1731 and was finally placed in the British Museum in 1753. The Danish scholar Thorkelin had copies made of it in 1787 and published the whole of it for the first time in 1815. Originally untitled, it is named after its hero, Beowulf, and is divided into two parts: In the first part the young Beowulf battles the monster Gredel and Grendels vengeful mother; in the second, an aged Beowulf kills a fire-breathing dragon but is himself mortally wounded.
No historic Beowulf is known to have existed, but some events described in the poem did take place in the sixth century. Early scholars tried to prove that more than one poet wrote the work, but it is now generally accepted that, like the Iliad’s Homer, there was one composer of Beowulf, who took the stories, legends, and myths of his culture’s oral traditions and bound them together with his own artistic vision. Written in England at least fifty years after the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity, and perhaps much later, the poem is recognized today as the longest and greatest poem extant in Old English–yet it describes an ancient heroic society of Danes and Geats in Scandinavia; there is not one word about England, or about the people who come to be known as the English, in the poem.
No historic Beowulf is known to have existed, but some events described in the poem did take place in the sixth century. Early scholars tried to prove that more than one poet wrote the work, but it is now generally accepted that, like the Iliad’s Homer, there was one composer of Beowulf, who took the stories, legends, and myths of his culture’s oral traditions and bound them together with his own artistic vision. Written in England at least fifty years after the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity, and perhaps much later, the poem is recognized today as the longest and greatest poem extant in Old English–yet it describes an ancient heroic society of Danes and Geats in Scandinavia; there is not one word about England, or about the people who come to be known as the English, in the poem.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
PROLOGUE:
The Founding of the Scylding Dynasty
Indeed, we have heard of the glory of the great Danish kings in days of old and the noble deeds of the princes. Scyld Scefing often drove troops of enemies from their mead-hall seats; he terrified the lords of many tribes, although he had once been a destitute foundling. He found consolation for that: he prospered under the heavens, and grew in glory, until every one of his neighbors over the sea had to obey him and pay tribute. That was a good king.
Then a son was born to him, a child in the house, sent by God to help the people—he saw the distress they had suffered before when they were without a ruler for a long time. Therefore the Lord of life, Ruler of heaven, granted worldly honor to the son of Scyld. Beowulf was famous; his renown spread far and wide in the land of the Danes. A young man should do as he did, and with splendid gifts from his father's store win loyal companions who will stand by him in old age and serve the people when war comes. He who does praiseworthy deeds will prosper everywhere.
Scyld departed from him at the fated time: the mighty man went into the keeping of the Lord. His own dear retainers bore away the beloved king, who had governed them so long, to the current of the sea, as he himself had ordered while he could still use words. There in the harbor stood a ring-prowed ship, covered with ice and ready to set out; it was a craft fit for a prince. They laid their dear lord, the giver of rings, in the bosom of the ship; they put the glorious one by the mast. Many treasures and precious things from far away were brought there—never was a ship more beautifully equipped with armor and weapons of war, swords and coats of mail. On the dead lord's bosom lay a multitude of treasures that were to go far with him in the power of the flood; nor did they give him less valuable treasure than did those who first sent him forth, alone over the waves, when he was a child. They set a golden banner high over his head; then they gave him to the sea and let the water carry him away. Their spirits were saddened, their hearts mournful. Men on earth, even the wisest of counselors, do not know how to tell who truly received that cargo.
PART I: The Cleansing of Heorot
Heorot Is Built and Assaulted by the Monster Grendel
1
When the prince his father was gone, Beowulf, son of Scyld, reigned over the people; he was renowned among nations for a long time. To him in turn was born high Healfdene, who rules the Danes gloriously as long as he lived—a venerable leader, fierce in battle. To Healfdene, the leader of hosts, four children all told were born into the world: Heorogar and Hrothgar and Halga the Good, and a daughter, who, they say, was Onela's queen—consort of the Swedish king.
Then Hrothgar was granted success in battle and glory in war, so that his friends and kinsmen obeyed him willingly, and his band of warriors grew large. It came into his mind to order a great mead-hall built, one which the children of men should hear of forever; there he would give out all that God gave him (except the public land and the lives of men) to young and old. I have heard that he then ordered work to adorn the building from nations far and wide throughout this earth. The time soon came when the greatest of halls was quite ready, and the ruler whose word was widely respected gave it the name of Heorot. He did not forget his promise to give out rings and treasures at the feast. The hall towered, high and wide-gabled: it awaited the hostile flames of hateful fire. The time had not yet come when deadly hate would arise between a son and father-in-law after a deed of violence.
This was a time of suffering for the powerful demon who dwelt in darkness, when he heard loud rejoicing in the hall every day. There was the sound of the harp and the sweet song of the minstrel, who told about the creation of men, long ago; he said that the Almighty made the earth, the beautiful land bounded by the water; then, triumphant, he placed the sun and the moon as a light to lighten those who dwell on the land, and adorned the earth with branches and leaves; and he also created every living creature which moves after its kind.—Thus the retainers of Hrothgar lived in joy and happiness, until the hellish fiend began his wicked deeds.
This grim spirit was called Grendel. A notorious prowler of the waste lands, he held sway in the moors, the fen and fastness. The miserable creature had long inhabited the haunts of monsters, since the Creator had condemned him and all his race, the progeny of Cain,in vengeance for the slaying of Abel. Cain got no joy by his murderous act, but was banished by the eternal Lord; God drove him from mankind for that crime. Of his race were born all evil broods—ogres, elves, and monsters, and the giants who contended against God for a long time—he paid them back for that!
2
When night fell, Grendel went to seek out the lofty house, to see how the Danes had settled down after drinking beer. There, inside, he found the band of noble warriors, sleeping after the feast: they did not know sorrow and the misery of men. Grim and greedy, the evil creature was alert at once: the cruel and savage monster took from their beds thirty of the thanes. Then he left there, exulting in his booty, seeking out his home with his fill of slaughter.
Then a dawn, with the break of day, Grendel's might in warfare was no secret to men. Where there had been feast and merrymaking, weeping arose, a great cry in the morning.
The glorious chief sat joyless; the prince, mighty of old, endured sorrow for his thanes when they saw the track of the foe, the accursed demon. The trouble now was severe beyond measure, hateful and long lasting: there was no further respite, but again the next night he committed more murder—he did not shrink from hostile act and wicked deed, for he was too fixed in the fetters of sin. Now it was easy to find a man who looked for a resting place further away, a bed in other buildings, when he had seen clear signs of the hall-visitor's hatred: he who escaped the enemy kept himself further away in a safer place.
The monster prevailed in this way and contended against right, one against all, until the best of houses stood empty. That lasted a long time: for twelve winters the Danish lord was afflicted with these troubles and suffered great sorrow. Sad lays made it openly known to men that Grendel warred against Hrothgar for a long time; he waged warfare, committed wicked deeds and hostile acts, for many seasons of continual strife. He did not want peace with any of the Danish host; he did not wish to stop his deadly evil, nor to settle the feud with payment—none of the counselors had reason to expect great compensation from the hand of the murderer. On the contrary, the dark death-shadow persecuted young and old, lingered and ambushed. He held the misty moors in perpetual darkness—no man knows where such demons go.
Thus the enemy of mankind, the fearful outcast, often did many wicked deeds and perpetrated greivous injuries. In the dark nights he prowled Heorot, the richly decorated hall; but he could not approach the throne, the seat where treasure was given—God prevented him—nor feel gratitude for gifts.
That was heartbreaking misery for the Scylding's lord. Many great leaders frequently sat in counsel pondering plans, in deliberation as to what would be best for brave-spirited men to do against the awful horror. At times they made sacrifices to idols in heathen temples, entreating the devil to help them relieve the distress of the people. Such was their custom, the hope of heathens—their thoughts were on hell, for they did not know their Creator, the Judge of deeds: they neither knew the Lord God nor understood how to worship the Protector of the heavens, the Ruler of glories. Woe to him who, in cruel affliction, shall thrust his soul into the embrace of the fire—he shall know no comfort or change. Well shall it be for him who may go to the Lord after the day of death and ask for peace in the bosom of the Father!
Beowulf's Arrival
3
So Healfdene's son brooded continually over the trouble of the time; nor could the wise prince turn that misery aside. The strife which had come upon the people was too hateful and enduring, a cruel, dire distress—the greatest of evils that come by night.
A brave man of the tribe of the Geats, a thane of Hygelac,heard in his homeland of Grendel's deeds. He was the strongest and mightiest man alive, noble and stalwart. He ordered a good ship prepared for him, saying he wished to seek out the warrior king over the road of the swans, since that glorious leader had need of men. Wise men did not blame him for this venture, although he was dear to them: they encouraged the brave man, and looked at the omens. The hero had chosen the keenest champions he could find among the Geatish people, and it was as one of fifteen that he led the way to the ship, a skilled seaman guiding his band along the shore.
In good time the boat was on the waves, floating under the cliffs. Watchful men climbed the prow. The ocean streams eddied, sea washed against sand, as the men bore bright trappings and splendid armor into the ship. The men shoved out: the warriors launched the well-braced craft on the longed-for journey. Driven by the wind, the boat went over the billowy sea, foamy necked, like a bird, until in due time on the following day the curved prow had advanced so that the seafarers saw land; they sighted the shining sea cliffs, the steep banks of the shore, the broad headlands. The sea had been crossed and the voyage was at an end. Quickly the people of the Geats mounted on the land and moored the ship—their battle garments, shirts of mail, rattled—and thanked God that their voyage had been easy.
From the wall the Danish guard, who had the duty of keeping watch on the sea cliffs, saw bright shields and ready armor brought o...
The Founding of the Scylding Dynasty
Indeed, we have heard of the glory of the great Danish kings in days of old and the noble deeds of the princes. Scyld Scefing often drove troops of enemies from their mead-hall seats; he terrified the lords of many tribes, although he had once been a destitute foundling. He found consolation for that: he prospered under the heavens, and grew in glory, until every one of his neighbors over the sea had to obey him and pay tribute. That was a good king.
Then a son was born to him, a child in the house, sent by God to help the people—he saw the distress they had suffered before when they were without a ruler for a long time. Therefore the Lord of life, Ruler of heaven, granted worldly honor to the son of Scyld. Beowulf was famous; his renown spread far and wide in the land of the Danes. A young man should do as he did, and with splendid gifts from his father's store win loyal companions who will stand by him in old age and serve the people when war comes. He who does praiseworthy deeds will prosper everywhere.
Scyld departed from him at the fated time: the mighty man went into the keeping of the Lord. His own dear retainers bore away the beloved king, who had governed them so long, to the current of the sea, as he himself had ordered while he could still use words. There in the harbor stood a ring-prowed ship, covered with ice and ready to set out; it was a craft fit for a prince. They laid their dear lord, the giver of rings, in the bosom of the ship; they put the glorious one by the mast. Many treasures and precious things from far away were brought there—never was a ship more beautifully equipped with armor and weapons of war, swords and coats of mail. On the dead lord's bosom lay a multitude of treasures that were to go far with him in the power of the flood; nor did they give him less valuable treasure than did those who first sent him forth, alone over the waves, when he was a child. They set a golden banner high over his head; then they gave him to the sea and let the water carry him away. Their spirits were saddened, their hearts mournful. Men on earth, even the wisest of counselors, do not know how to tell who truly received that cargo.
PART I: The Cleansing of Heorot
Heorot Is Built and Assaulted by the Monster Grendel
1
When the prince his father was gone, Beowulf, son of Scyld, reigned over the people; he was renowned among nations for a long time. To him in turn was born high Healfdene, who rules the Danes gloriously as long as he lived—a venerable leader, fierce in battle. To Healfdene, the leader of hosts, four children all told were born into the world: Heorogar and Hrothgar and Halga the Good, and a daughter, who, they say, was Onela's queen—consort of the Swedish king.
Then Hrothgar was granted success in battle and glory in war, so that his friends and kinsmen obeyed him willingly, and his band of warriors grew large. It came into his mind to order a great mead-hall built, one which the children of men should hear of forever; there he would give out all that God gave him (except the public land and the lives of men) to young and old. I have heard that he then ordered work to adorn the building from nations far and wide throughout this earth. The time soon came when the greatest of halls was quite ready, and the ruler whose word was widely respected gave it the name of Heorot. He did not forget his promise to give out rings and treasures at the feast. The hall towered, high and wide-gabled: it awaited the hostile flames of hateful fire. The time had not yet come when deadly hate would arise between a son and father-in-law after a deed of violence.
This was a time of suffering for the powerful demon who dwelt in darkness, when he heard loud rejoicing in the hall every day. There was the sound of the harp and the sweet song of the minstrel, who told about the creation of men, long ago; he said that the Almighty made the earth, the beautiful land bounded by the water; then, triumphant, he placed the sun and the moon as a light to lighten those who dwell on the land, and adorned the earth with branches and leaves; and he also created every living creature which moves after its kind.—Thus the retainers of Hrothgar lived in joy and happiness, until the hellish fiend began his wicked deeds.
This grim spirit was called Grendel. A notorious prowler of the waste lands, he held sway in the moors, the fen and fastness. The miserable creature had long inhabited the haunts of monsters, since the Creator had condemned him and all his race, the progeny of Cain,in vengeance for the slaying of Abel. Cain got no joy by his murderous act, but was banished by the eternal Lord; God drove him from mankind for that crime. Of his race were born all evil broods—ogres, elves, and monsters, and the giants who contended against God for a long time—he paid them back for that!
2
When night fell, Grendel went to seek out the lofty house, to see how the Danes had settled down after drinking beer. There, inside, he found the band of noble warriors, sleeping after the feast: they did not know sorrow and the misery of men. Grim and greedy, the evil creature was alert at once: the cruel and savage monster took from their beds thirty of the thanes. Then he left there, exulting in his booty, seeking out his home with his fill of slaughter.
Then a dawn, with the break of day, Grendel's might in warfare was no secret to men. Where there had been feast and merrymaking, weeping arose, a great cry in the morning.
The glorious chief sat joyless; the prince, mighty of old, endured sorrow for his thanes when they saw the track of the foe, the accursed demon. The trouble now was severe beyond measure, hateful and long lasting: there was no further respite, but again the next night he committed more murder—he did not shrink from hostile act and wicked deed, for he was too fixed in the fetters of sin. Now it was easy to find a man who looked for a resting place further away, a bed in other buildings, when he had seen clear signs of the hall-visitor's hatred: he who escaped the enemy kept himself further away in a safer place.
The monster prevailed in this way and contended against right, one against all, until the best of houses stood empty. That lasted a long time: for twelve winters the Danish lord was afflicted with these troubles and suffered great sorrow. Sad lays made it openly known to men that Grendel warred against Hrothgar for a long time; he waged warfare, committed wicked deeds and hostile acts, for many seasons of continual strife. He did not want peace with any of the Danish host; he did not wish to stop his deadly evil, nor to settle the feud with payment—none of the counselors had reason to expect great compensation from the hand of the murderer. On the contrary, the dark death-shadow persecuted young and old, lingered and ambushed. He held the misty moors in perpetual darkness—no man knows where such demons go.
Thus the enemy of mankind, the fearful outcast, often did many wicked deeds and perpetrated greivous injuries. In the dark nights he prowled Heorot, the richly decorated hall; but he could not approach the throne, the seat where treasure was given—God prevented him—nor feel gratitude for gifts.
That was heartbreaking misery for the Scylding's lord. Many great leaders frequently sat in counsel pondering plans, in deliberation as to what would be best for brave-spirited men to do against the awful horror. At times they made sacrifices to idols in heathen temples, entreating the devil to help them relieve the distress of the people. Such was their custom, the hope of heathens—their thoughts were on hell, for they did not know their Creator, the Judge of deeds: they neither knew the Lord God nor understood how to worship the Protector of the heavens, the Ruler of glories. Woe to him who, in cruel affliction, shall thrust his soul into the embrace of the fire—he shall know no comfort or change. Well shall it be for him who may go to the Lord after the day of death and ask for peace in the bosom of the Father!
Beowulf's Arrival
3
So Healfdene's son brooded continually over the trouble of the time; nor could the wise prince turn that misery aside. The strife which had come upon the people was too hateful and enduring, a cruel, dire distress—the greatest of evils that come by night.
A brave man of the tribe of the Geats, a thane of Hygelac,heard in his homeland of Grendel's deeds. He was the strongest and mightiest man alive, noble and stalwart. He ordered a good ship prepared for him, saying he wished to seek out the warrior king over the road of the swans, since that glorious leader had need of men. Wise men did not blame him for this venture, although he was dear to them: they encouraged the brave man, and looked at the omens. The hero had chosen the keenest champions he could find among the Geatish people, and it was as one of fifteen that he led the way to the ship, a skilled seaman guiding his band along the shore.
In good time the boat was on the waves, floating under the cliffs. Watchful men climbed the prow. The ocean streams eddied, sea washed against sand, as the men bore bright trappings and splendid armor into the ship. The men shoved out: the warriors launched the well-braced craft on the longed-for journey. Driven by the wind, the boat went over the billowy sea, foamy necked, like a bird, until in due time on the following day the curved prow had advanced so that the seafarers saw land; they sighted the shining sea cliffs, the steep banks of the shore, the broad headlands. The sea had been crossed and the voyage was at an end. Quickly the people of the Geats mounted on the land and moored the ship—their battle garments, shirts of mail, rattled—and thanked God that their voyage had been easy.
From the wall the Danish guard, who had the duty of keeping watch on the sea cliffs, saw bright shields and ready armor brought o...
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5 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
One of the Easier Translations to Understand,
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This review is from: Beowulf and Other Old English Poems (Mass Market Paperback)
I tried out several translations of Beowulf and this one seems the easiest to understand. Even so it would have helped if the translation had more notes accompanying it.
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Front Cover | Table of Contents | First Pages | Surprise Me!
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