Beowulf. The Beowulf Poet. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: The Beowulf Poet
Издательство: Ingram
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isbn: 9781974995837
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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 Hrothgar! In weeds of the warrior worthy they, methinks, of our liking; their leader most surely, a hero that hither his henchmen has led.”

      6

      HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings: —

       “I knew him of yore in his youthful days;

       his agéd father was Ecgtheow 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 said me this, —

       who carried my gifts to the Geatish court,

       thither for thanks, — he has thirty men’s

       heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand,

       the bold-in-battle. Blesséd 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.”

       Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men,

       brave band of thanes: some bode without,

       battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief.

       Then hied that troop where the herald led them,

       under Heorot’s roof: [the hero strode,]

       hardy ’neath helm, till the hearth he neared.

       Beowulf spake, — his breastplate gleamed,

       war-net woven by wit of the smith: —

       “Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac’s I,

       kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty

       have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds

       I heard in my home-land heralded clear.

       Seafarers say how stands this hall,

       of buildings 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 sovran 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 brood worsted. I’ the waves I slew

       nicors {6a} by night, in need and peril avenging the Weders, {6b} whose woe they sought, — crushing the grim ones. Grendel now, monster cruel, be mine to quell in single battle! So, from thee, thou sovran of the Shining-Danes, Scyldings’-bulwark, a boon I seek, — and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not, O Warriors’-shield, now I’ve wandered far, — that I alone with my liegemen here, this hardy band, may Heorot purge! More I hear, that the monster dire, in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not; hence shall I scorn — so Hygelac stay, king of my kindred, kind to me! — brand or buckler to bear in the fight, gold-colored targe: but with gripe 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; {6c} for his shall I be, dyed in gore, if death must take me; and my blood-covered 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 need’st food prepare! To Hygelac send, if Hild {6d} should take me, best of war-weeds, warding my breast, armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel and work of Wayland. {6e} Fares Wyrd {6f} as she must.”

      7

      HROTHGAR spake, the Scyldings’-helmet: —

       “For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf,

       to succor and save, thou hast sought us here.

       Thy father’s combat {7a} a feud enkindled when Heatholaf with hand he slew among the Wylfings; his Weder kin for horror of fighting feared to hold him. Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk, over surge of ocean the Honor-Scyldings, when first I was ruling the folk of Danes, wielded, youthful, this widespread realm, this hoard-hold of heroes. Heorogar was dead, my elder brother, had breathed his last, Healfdene’s bairn: he was better than I! Straightway the feud with fee {7b} I settled, to the Wylfings sent, o’er watery ridges, treasures olden: oaths he {7c} swore me. Sore is my soul to say to any of the race of man what ruth for me in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought, what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me, my warriors wane; for Wyrd 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, arméd 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 dyed 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 minstrels sang

       blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,

       no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane.

      8

      UNFERTH spake, the son of Ecglaf,

       who sat at the feet of the Scyldings’ lord,

       unbound the battle-runes. {8a} — Beowulf’s quest, sturdy seafarer’s, 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 lief or loath, from your labor dire could you dissuade, from swimming the main. Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered, with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured, swam o’er the waters. Winter’s storm rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee, had more of main! Him at morning-tide billows bore to the Battling Reamas, 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 Beanstan’s