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THE WIFE OF BATH’S TALE

Summary

There was a Knight in King Arthur’s time who raped a fair young maiden.  King Arthur sent a decree out that the Knight must be brought to justice. When the Knight is captured, he is condemned to death, but the Queen intercedes on behalf of the Knight and asks the King to allow her to pass judgment on the Knight.

The Queen asks the Knight, “What is the thing that most women desire?”   The Knight does not have an answer.  The Queen releases the Knight, but commands him to return within one year with an answer.

The Knight spent this time roaming from place to place questioning women.  Some say they want wealth, others happiness, others to be gratified and flattered. Everywhere he heard different answers. It is time for him to return to the Court and he is depressed for he does not have a good answer.

Outside the castle in the woods, he sees twenty four maidens dancing and singing, but when he approaches they disappear as if by magic, and all that is left is an old hag.  The Knight explains the problem to the hag and she is wise and may know the answer, but she would require payment for saving his life.  The Knight agrees.

The Queen asks the question again, and the Knight responds that women most desire sovereignty over their husbands. All the women of the Court agree that this is a valid answer.

The Knight is acquitted.

The old crone enters saying that she supplied the answer for the Knight and she now requests that he marries her.  The Knight, in agony, agrees.

On their wedding night the hag is upset that the Knight doesn’t attend to his new bride, but her ugliness and low breeding repulse him.  She reminds him that her looks can be an asset because she will be a virtuous wife to him because no other men would desire her. She asks him what he would prefer – an old ugly hag who is loyal, true and humble or a beautiful woman whom he would always have doubts about concerning her faithfulness?  The Knight responds by saying that the choice was hers. The hag is pleased.  She has won mastery over her husband, and she asks the Knight to kiss her. She says, “You will find me a fair and faithful wife”. The Knight turns to look at the hag again, but now finds a young and lovely woman.

They live blissfully ever after, the wife being in control.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,

Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,

Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:

Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,

To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,

Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.

How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,

If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine

Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'

Proving his beauty by succession thine!

    This were to be new made when thou art old,

    And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory:

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud buriest thy content

And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.

    Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

    To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,

Distill'd from limbecks foul as hell within,

Applying fears to hopes and hopes to fears,

Still losing when I saw myself to win!

What wretched errors hath my heart committed,

Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!

How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted

In the distraction of this madding fever!

O benefit of ill! now I find true

That better is by evil still made better;

And ruin'd love, when it is built anew,

Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.

   So I return rebuked to my content

   And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.

Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all

Wherein I should your great deserts repay,

Forgot upon your dearest love to call,

Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day;

That I have frequent been with unknown minds

And given to time your own dear-purchased right

That I have hoisted sail to all the winds

Which should transport me farthest from your sight.

Book both my wilfulness and errors down

And on just proof surmise accumulate;

Bring me within the level of your frown,

But shoot not at me in your waken'd hate;

   Since my appeal says I did strive to prove

   The constancy and virtue of your love. 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

   If this be error and upon me proved,

   I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? 

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date: 

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; 

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest: 

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

In ancient England, warfare reigns between Uther Pendragon (Gabriel Byrne) and Cornwall (Corin Redgrave). To bring peace, Merlin (Nicol Williamson) secures the mystical sword Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake (Hilary Joyalle) and gives it to Uther. Impressed by this symbol of power and Uther's promise of land, Cornwall relents and recognizes Uther as king. Cornwall hosts a celebration, where his wife, Igrayne (Katrine Boorman) dances. Uther cannot hide his lust and the fragile truce is broken.

Uther besieges Cornwall's castle. He again asks Merlin to intervene. Merlin agrees to give him Igrayne but only if Merlin will receive the result of Uther's lust. That night, Uther's men draw Cornwall out of his castle and ambush him, killing him. Merlin transforms Uther to resemble Cornwall. Uther enters the castle, makes rough love to Igrayne and impregnates her as Cornwall breathes his last.

Nine months later, Igrayne gives birth to a son. Upon seeing his son for the first time, Uther vows to become a peaceful king and secure his kingdom for his son. Merlin, who has not been seen since the night Cornwall died, appears and takes the child, as per their agreement. As Merlin disappears into the forest, Uther tries to stop him but is attacked by knights still loyal to Cornwall. Mortally wounded, Uther drives Excalibur into a stone, declaring no one will have the sword but him. Standing nearby, Merlin recites a spell that will keep the sword in the stone until Arthur is old enough to claim it.

For the next sixteen years, no one is able to pull the sword from the stone. Annually a joust is held to see who will be able to try; if any man succeeds, he will be crowned king. Sir Ector (Clive Swift) brings his son, Kay (Niall O'Brien) and Kay's squire, Arthur (Nigel Terry). When Arthur forgets Kay's sword, he goes to the stone and draws Excalibur for Kay to use in the joust. Incredulous, the crowd sees that Arthur has removed the sword. Ector reveals that Arthur was brought to him as a baby by Merlin, who bid the man to raise Arthur and protect him. Many of the other knights refuse to recognize Arthur, who is not a knight, as their king. Only Leondegrance (Patrick Stewart) acknowledges Arthur as the rightful king. After a quick tutorial in the mystic arts, Merlin leads Arthur to Leondegrance's castle, which is besieged by the other knights. Arthur fights bravely but wins the day when he admits that he is not himself a knight and kneels to ask one of the rebel knights, Uryens (Keith Buckley) to remedy the situation. Uryens recognizes Uther Pendragon's courage flows through Arthur's veins and knights him. That night, Arthur begins his courtship of Guenevere (Cherie Lunghi), Leondegrance's daughter.

Under Arthur, the kingdom is prosperous, the various fiefdoms are united, and many people flock to his gleaming castle, Camelot. The land's mightiest knights have joined Arthur's fellowship. These knights include Lancelot (Nicholas Clay), who had earlier taught Arthur an important lesson in humility. Lancelot, the best knight in the world, had defeated all of Arthur's knights; Arthur himself won only by calling on Excalibur's mystical powers. The sword shattered because Arthur had misused it. Recognizing his sin, Arthur repented and the Lady of the Lake returned Excalibur to Arthur, whole. Lancelot swore his allegiance to Arthur that day. However, he spends little time in Camelot because of his love for Guenevere. In order to maintain his and Guenevere's honor, Lancelot stays in self-imposed exile. Arthur marries Guenevere, establishes the Round Table and peace unites the kingdom.

This fact is not lost on another of the castle's denizens, Morgana (Helen Mirren), Arthur's half-sister. As a child, she had watched Uther ravish Igrayne as her father (Cornwall) died. Now she hides a bitter plan to destroy Arthur and his kingdom. She goads Gawain (Liam Neeson) into accusing Guenevere and Lancelot of infidelity. He challenges the absent Lancelot to a joust. Lancelot's squire, Perceval (Paul Geoffrey), is knighted so he can joust in Lancelot's place but at the last minute Lancelot arrives and defeats Gawain. Then he collapses from a self-inflicted wound, incurred the night before as he wrestled with his unchaste desires for Guenevere.

Merlin has grown tired from helping men forge their kingdoms and accepts that soon science and the Christian God will take the place of magic. Morgana rejects his conclusions and seduces Merlin into revealing all of his secrets, tricking him into reciting the ancient spell of "making", the very same spell Merlin had used to alter Uther's likeness to that of Cornwall. She learns the chant and uses it to imprison Merlin in his cave. Meanwhile, Guenevere has slipped into the forest to find Lancelot. They make love and fall asleep. Arthur finds them and, rather than kill them, drives Excalibur into the ground between them. When they awake, the two adulterers are driven apart by grief. That night, Morgana takes the guise of Guenevere, has sex with a delirious Arthur and begets a child by him.

Without Excalibur and despondent over the treachery of his queen and best knight, Arthur is an ineffective king and the land suffers. Crops fail and pestilence spreads. Arthur sends his knights on a quest to find the Holy Grail, the cup Jesus used during the Last Supper; it will heal Arthur and the land. All of the knights search for the Grail for 10 years, and most of them die. Morgana has raised her and Arthur's son, Mordred (Charley Boorman), to hate Arthur. Together they lure Arthur's knights to their lair and hang the ones that cannot be enthralled from a tree. Perceval is one of those knights. As he slowly strangles, he has a vision of the Grail. It asks him "What is the secret of the Grail? Who does it serve?" Perceval is too frightened to answer the question. However, the spurs on another hanged knight's armor severs the rope hanging Perceval, and he escapes.

In the countryside, Perceval encounters a group of disheveled peasants who appear to be conducting a funeral for a child. He recognizes Lancelot among them, barely recognizable with long hair, a beard and dressed in a monk's robes. Lancelot is now almost insane with disaffection over Camelot. Perceval begs Lancelot to return but instead they attack him. He barely escapes with his life but finds himself at the Grail Castle from his near-death vision. This time, Perceval understands the secret of the Grail: it is the faith that sustains Arthur, and through him the land flourishes. Perceval returns to Camelot with the Grail. Arthur drinks from it and regains his health and the land next to him blooms to life. He visits Guenevere, who retired to a convent after her infidelity. Arthur forgives her and asks her forgiveness. She returns Excalibur to him, having kept it with her through the years.

Mordred has challenged Arthur to the throne and has built a massive army. Morgana's enchantments protect him from any man-made weapon. They also keep her artificially youthful. On the night before the battle, Arthur prays for Merlin for help. As a wraith, Merlin appears in Morgana's tent and tricks her into undoing her spells and causing her to finally age, becoming an old hag. As she ages, smoke pours from her mouth, enough to cover the camp and the battleground. When Mordred finds his mother as an old crone he strangles her.

The next morning, Arthur's forces, though vastly outnumbered, meet and vanquish Mordred's army at Camlann, having the advantage of the smoke let loose by Morgana. They are aided by the timely intervention of Lancelot, who singlehandedly kills many. Lancelot, however, succumbs to the wound he'd given himself in the forest when trying to requite his love for Guenevere, and collapses. A grateful Arther forgives him and Lancelot dies, having found peace.

Only Mordred himself remains. He impales Arthur on a spear and Arthur stabs him with Excalibur, killing him. Dying, Arthur commands Perceval to take Excalibur and throw it into the nearest still body of water. Perceval takes the sword to a nearby lake but is unable to follow the command; he returns to Arthur saying that Excalibur cannot be lost again. Arthur reassures his knight that the sword will be safe and will be presented to the next worthy king. Perceval returns to the lake and casts the sword in where it's caught by the Lady of the Lake and taken beneath the water. Perceval rides back to Camlann in time to see the Fates sailing away to Avalon with Arthur's body.

EarlyHistory of the Danes

Listen:

You have heard of the Danish Kings

in the old days and how

they were great warriors.

Shield, the son of Sheaf,

took many an enemy's chair,

terrified many a warrior,

after he was found an orphan.

He prospered under the sky

until people everywhere

listened when he spoke.

He was a good king!

Shield had ason,

child for his yard,

sent by God

to comfort the people,

to keep them from fear--

Grain was his name;

he was famous

throughout the North.

Young princes should do as he did--

give out treasures

while they're still young

so that when they're old

people will support them

in time of war.

A man prospers

by good deeds

in any nation.

Shield diedat his fated hour,

went to God still strong.

His people carried him to the sea,

which was his last request.

In the harbor stood

a well-built ship,

icy but ready for the sea.

They laid Shield there,

propped him against the mast

surrounded by gold

and treasure from distant lands.

I've never heard

of a more beautiful ship,

filled with shields, swords,

and coats of mail, gifts

to him for his long trip.

No doubt he had a little more

than he did as a child

when he was sent out,

a naked orphan in an empty boat.

Now he had a golden banner

high over his head, was,

sadly by a rich people,

given to the sea.

The wisest alive can't tell

where a death ship goes.

Grain ruledthe Danes

a long time after his father's death,

and to him was born

the great Healfdene, fierce in battle,

who ruled until he was old.

Healfdene had four children--

Heorogar, Hrothgar, Halga the Good,

and a daughter who married

Onela, King of the Swedes.

HrothgarBecomes King of the Danes

AfterHrothgar became king

he won many battles:

his friends and family

willingly obeyed him;

his childhood friends

became famous soldiers.

So Hrothgardecided

he would build a mead-hall,

the greatest the world had

ever seen, or even imagined.

There he would share out

to young and old alike

all that God gave him

(except for public lands and men's lives).

I have heardthat orders

went out far and wide;

tribes throughout the world

set to work on that building.

And it was built, the world's

greatest mead-hall.

And that great man

called the building

"Herot," the hart.

After it wasbuilt,

Hrothgar did what he said

he would: handed out gold

and treasure at huge feasts.

That hall was high-towered,

tall and wide-gabled

(though destruction awaited,

fire and swords of family trouble;

and outside in the night waited

a tortured spirit of hell).

The words ofthe poet,

the sounds of the harp,

the joy of people echoed.

The poet told how the world

came to be, how God made the earth

and the water surrounding,

how He set the sun and the moon

as lights for people

and adorned the earth

with limbs and leaves for everyone.

Hrothgar's people lived in joy,

happy until that wanderer of the wasteland,

Grendel the demon, possessor of the moors,

began his crimes.

He was of arace of monsters

exiled from mankind by God--

He was of the race of Cain,

that man punished for

murdering his brother.

From that family comes

all evil beings--

monsters, elves, zombies.

Also the giants who

fought with God and got

repaid with the flood.

GrendelAttacks

One night,after a beer party,

the Danes settled in the hall

for sleep; they knew no sorrows.

The evil creature, grim and hungry,

grabbed thirty warriors

and went home laughing.

At dawn,when the Danes learned

of Grendel's strength,

there was great weeping.

The old king sat sadly,

crying for his men. Bloody

footprints were found.

That was badenough,

but the following night

Grendel killed more--

blinded by sin,

he felt no remorse.

(You can bet the survivors

started sleeping elsewhere.)

So Grendel ruled,

fighting right,

one against many,

and the greatest hall

in all the earth

stood empty at night.

Twelve yearsthis went on,

Hrothgar suffering

the greatest of sorrows.

Poets sangsad songs

throughout the world,

how Grendel tormented Hrothgar;

how no warrior,

no matter how brave,

could kill Grendel.

How Grendel wasn't

about to stop,

or pay damages.

Grendel kept ambushing from his lair,

the moors which lay in perpetual darkness.

Then, thecruelest of all injuries,

he moved into the hall--

stayed there every night

(though God would never allow

such an evil thing

to actually touch the throne).

Hrothgar wasbroken;

council after council proposed

what to do against the attacks.

They even went to heathen temples,

worshipped idols, and called

to the Devil for help.

The Danes forgot God.

(Woe be to those who go

to the fire's embrace,

even in great distress--

There is no consolation there.)

Nocounselor, no warrior

could destroy the evil.

They wept and seethed.

BeowulfHears of Grendel

But awarrior of Hygelac's

heard of Grendel's doings;

he was the strongest of men

alive in that day,

mighty and noble.

That man called for a ship,

said he would cross the ocean

and help the king who needed help.

Wise men urged him

to that adventure

though he was dear to them.

They examined omens

and whetted him on.

So the goodGeat chose

the bravest warriors,

fourteen of them,

and that crafty sailor

led them to the land's brim,

to the ship.

They readied the ship

on the waves under the cliffs

and the warriors stood at the prow

as the water wound against the sand.

The warriors bore

into the ship's bosom

bright weapons,

fitted armor.

The menshoved

the well-braced ship

out on the journey

they'd dreamed of.

The foamy-necked ship

went out like a bird

so that the next day

its curved prow

had gone so far

that the seafarers saw land,

shining shore cliffs

and steep mountains.

Their journey was already over

and the Geat warriors

pulled their ship to the shore

and stood on land

in their rattling shirts,

their war-clothes. They

thanked God for an easy trip.

From hiswall the sea-guard of the Danes,

protector of the cliffs,

saw bright shields

and ready war dress

coming over the gang plank

and he wondered

who those men were.

Hrothgar's warrior rode

to shore on his horse.

Shaking amighty spear, he spoke:

"Who are you, in armor,

who come over the sea-road

in that steep keel?

Listen: I guard here

so that no forces

hostile to the Danes

may raid. Never has

one so openly brought

a ship's army, warriors,

without the permission of my kinsmen.

And never have I seen

a greater man on earth,

any man in armor,

than is one among you.

Unless I'm wrong,

that is no hall-man,

just wearing armor--

his stature is peerless.

I wish to know your lineage now

so I know you are not spies

going into the land of the Danes.

You far-dwellers, seafarers,

hear my simple thought:

you had best hurry to tell me

where you come from."

Beowulf,leader of the host

unlatched his word-hoard:

"As to kin, we are of the Geat nation,

Hygelac's hearth-companions.

My father was a leader well known

among the people: Edgtheow.

He stayed many winters

before he went away,

aged, from the court.

Every wise man readily remembers

him throughout the earth.

We have come with friendly hearts

to see your lord, Healfdene's son,

protector of the people.

Be good counsel to us:

we have come on a great errand

to the king of the Danes.

I think it foolish

to keep secrets. You know

if it is true what we have heard,

that a dark enemy in the nights

works violence and slaughter

on the Danes. . . . Perhaps

in kindness I may advise Hrothgar

how he, wise and famous,

may overcome this enemy--

if change will ever come,

relief from this evil--

and how this seething sorrow

might become cool.

Otherwise, he will suffer tribulation

as long as he lives in that high place,

the best of houses."

Theprotector of the coast,

still on his horse, spoke

(a wise shield warrior,

one who thinks well,

must judge two things:

works and words):

"I see that you are a band

friendly to the lord of the Danes.

Go forth, bearing arms and equipment.

I will guide you. Also,

I will order my men

to protect your ship,

that new-tarred boat on the sand,

until it bears you again

back over the water streams

with its curved wooden neck,

back to the land of the Geats--

if it be granted that you

endure the battle."

They leftthen the well-made ship

pulling at its rope.

On the gold-adorned helmets

figures of boars shone,

those guards over war-like minds.

The menexcitedly marched until

they saw that ornamented hall,

the finest building on earth,

that glittered light over many lands,

where the mighty one waited.

The onebrave in battle pointed

toward the resplendent hall;

the guard of the coast turned

his horse and said after them:

"It is time for me to go.

May the Father Omnipotent hold you

safe and sound in kindness!

I will go back to the sea

to hold against hostile bands."

Beowulf Comes to Herot

The paved road guided the men.

Their war-coats shone,

the hard locks ringing

as they came toward the hall.

The sea-weary ones set

their broad, strong shields

against the building's wall,

then sat down on benches,

their armor resounding.

They stood their spears together,

ash wood tipped with gray,

an iron troop.

Then a proud Danish warrior askedthem:

"From where have you carried

these gold-inlaid shields,

these shirts of mail,

masked helmets, and battle shafts?

I am Hrothgar's messenger and officer.

Never have I seen braver strangers.

I expect you're here

to find adventure, not asylum."

The brave one answered him,

he of the proud Geats tribe,

hard under his helmet:

"We are Hygelac's table companions.

Beowulf is my name.

I will declare to the great lord,

Healfdene's son, my errand,

if your prince will greet us."

Wulfgar spoke--he was

of the Wendla tribe

and known to many

for fighting and wisdom--

"I will ask the lord of the Danes,

the giver of rings,

if he will reward your journey

and speedily make his wishes known."

Wulfgar went quickly

to where Hrothgar sat,

old and gray, with

his most trusted men.

He went before the face

of the Dane's lord,

knowing the customs of warriors.

Wulfgar spoke to his friendly lord:

"From far over the sea's expanse

has come a man of the Geats,

a chief of warriors named Beowulf.

He and his men have, my lord,

asked to exchange words with you.

Do not refuse the request,

Hrothgar! These men look worthy

of a warrior's esteem. Indeed,

the chief among them,

he who guides them, is strong."

Hrothgar, guard of the Danes, spoke:

"I knew him when he was a boy.

His father is called Edgtheow.

To that man Hrethel of the Geats

gave his only daughter.

Now his offspring has come

in bravery seeking a loyal friend.

Seafarers who took gifts

to the Geats say that he

has the strength of thirty men

in his hand grip.

Holy God, out of kindness,

has sent this man to us

to save us from Grendel's terror.

I shall give treasures

to that brave man

for his impetuous courage.

Be you in haste: go,

call in this band of kinsmen.

Say to them that they are welcome

to the Danish people."

Wulfgar, famous warrior,

went to the door:

"My victorious lord,

prince of the Danes,

bids me say he knows

your noble descent and

that brave men who

come over the sea swells

are welcome to him.

Come with your war dress,

under your helmets,

to see Hrothgar, but

let your war shields

and wooden spears await

the outcome of your talk."

The mighty one arose,

surrounded by warriors,

a mighty band of men.

Some remained with the weapons,

as the brave one ordered.

The rest hastened,

as the man guided,

under Herot's roof.

The great warrior went,

hard under his helmet,

until he stood within

in his shining coat of mail,

his armor-net sewn by smiths.

Beowulf spoke:

"I am Hygelac's kinsman and warrior.

I have undertaken many

glorious deeds. I learned

of Grendel in my native land.

Seafarers say this place,

the best of halls,

stands idle and useless

after sundown. Hrothgar,

the wise men among my people

advised that I seek you

because they know my strength--

they saw me come from battles

stained in the blood of my enemies,

when I destroyed a family of giants,

when I endured pain all night,

killing water monsters,

grinding them to bits,

to avenge for the Geats

those who asked for misery.

And now I shall, alone,

fight Grendel. I ask you,

lord of the Danes,

protector of this people,

for only one favor:

that you refuse me not,

fair friend of the people,

do not refuse those who

have come so far the chance

to cleanse Herot.

I have heard that the monster

in his recklessness uses no weapons.

I, therefore, to amuse Hygelac my lord,

scorn to carry sword or shield,

but I shall seize my enemy

in my hand grip and fight,

enemy against enemy,

and let God decide

who shall be taken by death.

I expect, if he wins, that

he will eat fearlessly of

the Geat people in this hall

as he often has of yours.

Nor will you need,

if death takes me,

worry about a burial--

that solitary one

will carry my corpse,

dripping with blood,

to a ruthless feast.

If battle takes me,

send this best of war garments,

this shirt of mail,

to Hygelac--it is

an inheritance from Hrethel

and the work of Weland.

Fate always goes as it will!"

Hrothgar, protector of the Danes,spoke:

"Because of past kindness

and deeds done, you have come,

my friend Beowulf. By a killing

your father brought about

the greatest of feuds.

He was the killer of Heatholaf

among the Wylfings. The Geats,

for fear of war, would not have him,

so he sought us Danes

over the rolling waves. . .

back when I first ruled,

as a youth, this wide kingdom

of the Danish people,

this treasure city of heroes.

Heorogar was dead then,

my older brother,

the son of Healfdene.

(He was better than I!)

I paid money to settle

your father's feud, sent

treasure over the water's back

to the Wylfings. Your father

swore oaths to me.

It is a sorrow for me

to say to any man

what Grendel has done--

humiliations in Herot--

hostile attacks on my hall warriors

until they are diminished,

swept away in Grendel's horror.

God may easily put an end

to that mad ravager's deeds.

Quite often have men boasted,

over their ale-cups,

drunk on beer,

that they would meet

Grendel's attack in the hall

with grim swords. But

in the morning when the daylight

shone, the mead hall was stained

in gore, the hall wet with

the blood of battle. And I had

a few less loyal men.

Sit now and feast,

glory of warriors,

and speak your thoughts

as your heart tells you."

So a bench was cleared for

the Geats and the brave men

sat down proud in their strength.

A warrior did his duty,

bearing an etched cup

and pouring sweet drink.

The poet sang in a clear voice,

and in Herot there was the joy

of brave men, Danes and Geats.

Unferth, Ecglaf's son,

who sat at the feet

of the king of the Danes,

spoke, unloosing a battle-rune

(The bravery of Beowulf

was a vexation to him

because he envied any man

on this middle-earth who had

more glory than himself):

"Are you that Beowulf

who struggled with Brecca

in the broad sea

in a swimming contest?

The one who, out of pride,

risked his life in the deep water

though both friends and enemies

told you it was too dangerous?

Are you the one who hugged

the sea, gliding through the boiling

waves of the winter's swell?

You and Brecca toiled

seven nights in the sea,

and he, with more strength,

overcame you. And

in the morning the waves

bore him to the Heathrames

from whence he went home

to the Brondings, beloved of them,

to his people and mead hall.

Brecca fulfilled all his boast.

Because of this, though you have

everywhere withstood the battle storm,

I don't expect much from you

if you dare await

Grendel in the night."

Beowulf spoke:

"Well, my friend Unferth, you

have said a good many things

about Brecca and that trip,

drunk on beer as you are.

Truth to tell, I had more strength

but also more hardships in the waves.

He and I were both boys

and boasted out of our youth

that we two would risk

our lives in the sea.

And so we did.

With naked swords in hand,

to ward off whales,

we swam. Brecca could not

out-swim me, nor could I

out-distance him. And thus

we were, for five nights.

It was cold weather and

the waves surged, driving us

apart, and the North wind came

like a battle in the night.

Fierce were the waves

and the anger of the sea fish

stirred. My coat of mail,

adorned in gold

and locked hard by hand,

helped against those foes.

A hostile thing drew me

to the bottom in its grim grip,

but it was granted to me

to reach it with my sword's

point. The battle storm

destroyed that mighty

sea beast through my hand.

And on and on evil

things threatened me.

I served them with my sword

as it was right to do.

Those wicked things

had no joy of the feast,

did not sit at the sea's

bottom eating my bones.

When the morning came

my sword had put

many to sleep, and even today

in that fiord they don't

hinder seafarers. Light

shone from the East,

that bright beacon of God,

and the seas subsided.

I saw cliffs, the windy

walls of the sea.

Fate often saves

an undoomed man if

his courage holds.

Anyway, with my sword

I slew nine sea monsters.

Nor have I heard tell

of a harder fight

or a more distressed man

ever to go in the sea.

I survived the grasp

of hostiles, and the sea

bore me, the surging water,

weary, into the land of the Finns.

I have not heard

anything about you

surviving such battles,

such terrors of the sword.

Neither Brecca nor you have

performed such deeds in

war sport or with shining swords.

Yet I don't boast about it.

But you, your own brother's

murderer, shall be damned

and burn in Hell no matter

how strong your wit is.

I say to you truly,

son of Ecglaf, that wretch

Grendel would never have done

such horrors, such humiliations

on you chief, if you were so

fierce as you suppose.

Grendel has found

he need not fear feud,

any sword storm,

from your people.

He takes his toll,

showing no mercy

to the Danish folk.

He enjoys himself,

killing and feasting,

and expects no fight

from the Danes.

But I shall offer him

the battle of a Geat in

strength and courage.

When I get done with him,

anyone who wishes may

happily go into the mead hall

as morning shines

on the children of men.

On that day the sun

will be clothed in radiance

as it shines from the South!"

The giver of treasure, Hrothgar,

gray-haired and brave in battle,

felt glad--the chief of the Danes

could count on help.

That guardian of the folk

heard in Beowulf firm resolution.

The men laughed, the din

resounding, and the words

turned friendly.

Wealhtheow, Hrothgar's queen,

came forth, mindful of kin,

adorned in gold to greet the men.

First she gave the cup

to the country's guardian,

that one dear to his people,

biding joy in his beer drinking.

That king famous for victories

happily took the feast cup.

Then that woman of the Helmings

went round to each, young and old,

sharing the precious cup.

In proper time that ring-adorned

queen excellent in mind

brought the mead cup to Beowulf.

She greeted him, thanking

God that her wish had

been fulfilled, that finally

a hero had come who

she could count on

to stop Grendel's crimes.

Beowulf, fierce in war,

received the cup from Wealhtheow

and spoke eagerly of battle:

"I resolved when I set to sea

in my boat with my warriors

that I, alone, will fulfill

the wish of your people. . .

or die in the foe's grasp.

I shall perform the deeds

of a hero or I have passed

my last day in this mead hall."

The woman liked these words,

this brave speech of the Geat.

The gold-adorned folk queen

went to sit by her lord.

Now again, as it had been

in the old days, brave words

were spoken and the people were happy.

The gladness of warriors continued

until the son of Healfdene

wished to go to his evening rest.

Hrothgar knew the wretch

planned to attack the hall

after the sun had set,

night over the hall,

when the shadows came

striding dark under the clouds.

All the company arose.

Warrior then saluted warrior,

Hrothgar wishing Beowulf luck

in his fight for the hall.

Hrothgar said these words:

"Never, since I have been able

to lift shield, have I entrusted

this hall, this mighty house

of the Danes, to any man.

But now I entrust it to you.

Have and hold this best of houses.

Keep fame in mind, watch

against the foe, and make

your valor known! You shall

lack nothing if you

survive this deed."

Then Hrothgar, protector

of the Danes, and his band

of warriors left the hall.

Hrothgar sought the queen's bed.

God, as men learned,

had chosen a man

who could fight Grendel.

The chief of the Geats,

indeed, trusted his strength

and God's favor.

Beowulf took off his armor,

off his helmet, handed

his figured sword to the attendant.

Beowulf, that good man, then

spoke some brave words

before he got in bed:

"I don't claim myself

any lower in strength or brave deeds

than Grendel. Therefore, I will

not kill him with a sword,

though I easily might.

Though he is famous for strength,

he knows no weapons to cut a shield.

If he chooses to forego a sword,

if he dares seek me without weapon,

then we two shall fight without,

and wise God, that king, shall

choose who shall win glory."

The battle-brave one lay down then,

a pillow received the warrior's face,

and his brave men sought rest

around him in the hall. Not one

thought he would seek home again,

see his people or birthplace.

Far too many Danes had already

died there. But the Lord would

give victory to the Geat people,

helping and supporting, so that

one man's craft overcame all.

(It is well known that God

always rules the race of men.)

Grendel Attacks Again

Came thenstriding in the night

the walker of darkness.

In that gabled hall

the warriors slept,

those who guarded the hall. . .

all but one.

It was well known among men

that, if God willed it not,

no one could drag

that demon to the shadows.

But Beowulf watched

in anger, waiting

the battle's outcome.

Came thenfrom the moor

under the misty hills

Grendel stalking under

the weight of God's anger.

That wicked ravager

planned to ensnare

many of the race of men

in the high hall.

He strodeunder the clouds,

seeking eagerly, till he came to

the wine-hall, the treasure-hall

of men decorated in gold.

Nor was it the first time he

had sought Hrothgar's home.

But never in his life before

--or since--

did he find worse luck!

Came then tothe building

that creature bereft of joys.

When he touched it with his hands

the door gave way at once

though its bands were forged

in fire. Intending evil,

enraged, he swung the door wide,

stood at the building's mouth.

Quickly the foe moved

across the well-made floor,

in an angry mood--a horrible light,

like fire, in his eyes.

He saw the many warriors in the building,

that band of kinsmen asleep

together, and his spirit laughed:

that monster expected

to rip life from the body of each

one before morning came.

He expected a plentiful meal.

(It was his fate

that he eat no more

of the race of men

after that night. . .)

The mightyone, Beowulf, watched,

waiting to see how that wicked one

would go about starting.

Nor did the wretch delay,

but set about seizing

a sleeping warrior unawares

and bit into his bone locks,

drinking the streams of blood,

then swallowing huge morsels

of flesh. Quickly he ate that man,

even to his hands and feet.

Forward Grendel came,

stepping nearer. Then

he reached for Beowulf.

Beowulf grasped his arm

and sat up. The criminal

knew he had not met

in this middle-earth

another with such a grip.

Grendel's spirit was afraid

and his heart eager

to get away, to flee

to his hiding place, flee

to the devils he kept

for company. Never had he met

a man such as this.

Beowulf thenkept in mind

the speeches he had made

in the evening and stood

upright, firmly grasping

Grendel's hand until

the fingers broke.

The monsterstrove to escape.

Beowulf stepped closer. That

famous monster suddenly wanted

to disappear into the fens.

He realized the power of those hands,

the wrathful grip he was in.

Grendel felt sorry

he had made a trip to Herot.

That hall ofwarriors dinned.

All the Danes of the city,

all the brave ones, feared disaster.

The building resounded.

It is a wonder the wine-hall

withstood the battle,

that the beautiful building

did not fall to the ground.

But it was made fast,

within and without,

with iron bands

forged with great skill.

I have heard say

many a mead bench

adorned in gold

went flying when

those hostiles fought.

No wise man had ever thought

that splendid building could

be damaged (unless a fire

should swallow it).

The din roselouder, the Danes stood

in dreadful terror--everyone

heard lamentation, a terrifying

song, through the wall:

Grendel, Hell's friend,

God's enemy, sang in defeat,

bewailing his wound.

That man, mightiest

of warriors alive, held fast.

He would not

for any reason

allow his murderous visitor

to escape alive,

to keep the days of his life.

Beowulf'swarriors brandished

many a sword, inheritances

from the ancient days,

trying to protect their chief,

but that did no good: they

could not have known, those

brave warriors as they fought,

striking from all sides, seeking

to take Grendel's soul, that

no battle sword could harm him--

he had enchantment against

the edges of weapons.

The end ofGrendel's life was

miserable, and he would travel

far into the hands of fiends.

Grendel, the foe of God, who had

long troubled the spirits of men

with his crimes, found that

his body could not stand against

the hand grip of that warrior.

Each washateful to the other

alive. The horrible monster endured

a wound: the bone-locks

of his shoulder gave way,

and his sinews sprang out.

The glory of battle went to

Beowulf, and Grendel,

mortally wounded,

sought his sad home

under the fen slope.

He knew surely that

his life had reached its end,

the number of his days gone.

The hope ofthe Danes

had come to pass--He

who came from far had

cleansed Hrothgar's hall

and saved it from affliction.

They rejoiced it that

night's work. Beowulf had

fulfilled his promise

to the Danes and all

the distress they had endured,

all the trouble and sorrow,

had reached an end.

The fact wasplain when

Beowulf laid that arm

and shoulder down, there

altogether, Grendel's claw,

under the vaulted roof.

TheWarriors Rejoice

I have heardsay that

on that morning warriors

came from near and far

to look at the wonder.

Grendel's death made

no warrior sad.

They lookedat the huge footprints

and the path he had taken,

dragging himself wearily away

after he had been overcome in battle.

The fated fugitive's bloody tracks

led into the water-monster's mere.

There bloody water boiled,

a horrible swirl of waves

mingled with hot gore.

That doomed one had died,

deprived of joy,

in his fen refuge, his heathen

soul taken into Hell.

After seeingthat place

the warriors once again

rode their horses to Herot.

They spoke of Beowulf's

glorious deed, often saying

that no man under the sky's

expanse, North nor South

between the seas, no man

who bore a shield, was more

worthy of a kingdom. They,

however, never found fault

with the gracious Hrothgar--

he was a good king.

The warriorslet their

bay horses go, a contest

for the best horse,

galloping through whatever

path looked fair.

Sometimes a king's man, a warrior

covered in glory who knew

the old traditions, would be

reminded of an ancient song,

and he would call up words adorned

in truth. The man would think

of Beowulf's deeds and quickly

compose a skillful tale in words.

Then he sangof things he'd heard

about Sigemund's valorous deeds,

untold things about Weals's son,

his struggles, his wide journeys and feuds.

The singer told things the children

of men did not know, except for

Fitela, Sigemund's nephew, who

stood with him in battle.

With swords those two felled

many from the race of giants.

After Sigemund's death day

not a little fame sprang to him,

about his hardy fight and killing

of a dragon, keeper of a hoard.

Under gray stone that prince alone

engaged in that audacious deed,

not even Fitela with him.

Anyway, ithappened that

Sigemund's sword went clear through

the huge dragon and

that splendid iron

stuck in the wall.

The dragon died violently.

By brave deeds the hero

won a ring hoard for himself.

He bore into a ship's bosom

those bright treasures

of the Weal kin,

and the dragon melted

of its own heat.

Sigemund wasby far the most

renowned adventurer. N He had

first prospered under King Heremod,

but that man's strength

and victory subsided.

Among the Jutes

Heremod was betrayed

into enemy hands

and put to death.

Sorrow oppressed him too long.

He became a trouble to his people.

Many a wise man

bewailed the old days

when Heremod had taken

the protector's position

to hold the treasure

of the Danish kingdom.

He had loved the Geats

more than his own people:

evil had seized him.

Thus told the song.

Sometimesthe warriors raced

their horses on the yellow road.

The morning sped away.

Many a brave warrior

went to the high hall

to see the wonder.

So also the king himself,

the keeper of the rings,

leaving the queen's rooms,

went with his famous company.

And the queen also

with a troop of maidens

walked among the mead seats.

--The Speeches--

Hrothgar,standing on the steps,

seeing the golden roof

and Grendel's hand, spoke:

"For this sight I give

thanks to the Almighty.

I have suffered much

from Grendel's scourge.

God, the glorious protector,

works wonder after wonder.

Only yesterday I expected

these woes would never end--

this best of houses

stood shining in blood

and all my wise ones said

we could never protect

the people and land

from the work of demons

and evil spirits. Now

a warrior, through God's might,

has performed a deed we,

in our wisdom, could not contrive.

The woman who bore you,

Beowulf, if she yet lives,

may say the Eternal Maker

was kind in her child bearing.

Now, Beowulf, best of warriors,

I love you as a son:

have from this moment

a new kinship. Nor will there be

any lack of earthly things

I have power over.

Often I have given gifts

to a lesser warrior, weaker

in fighting. You have, by

your deeds, achieved fame

forever. May God repay you

always as He has just now!"

Beowulf, sonof Ecgtheow, spoke:

"We have done this work of valor

against the strength of an uncanny

foe. I wish you might have seen

this enemy killed in his gear.

I planned to bind him quickly

to his deathbed with hand grips.

I thought I could pin him down

struggling for life without

his body's escape. But I could not

keep him from going; the Creator

did not will it, and I could not

hold him firmly enough. The foe

was too powerful in his going.

However, he left behind his hand

to save his life, and his arm

and shoulder, though that won't buy

the wretch much comfort.

The evil-doer, afflicted by sin,

won't live much longer;

pain with its strong grip

has seized him in deadly bonds,

and there shall he await,

guilty of crime, the great judgment,

how the bright creator

will decree. . . "

Then was thewarrior silent

in speaking of his war-like deed,

and the nobles beheld

the hand at the high roof.

On each of the foe's fingers

were nails like steel.

Everyone agreed the heathen's

claw was horrible

and that the wretch's

bloody battle hand

could not be harmed

by the best of iron.

Entertainmentin Herot

Then it wasordered

that Herot be decorated.

Many there were,

men and women, who

prepared that guest-hall.

Gold ornaments shone,

wondrous sights on the walls,

for people to look at.

That bright building

had been much hurt,

though its bands

were made of iron.

Hinges had been sprung

apart. The roof alone

had escaped damage before

that monster, wicked outlaw,

turned in flight

despairing of his life.

(Fate is not easy

to flee from,

try it who will--

the children of men,

bearers of souls,

must go to the prepared place,

his body rest

fast in the grave,

sleep after the feast.)

Then camethe time

that Hrothgar himself

went to the feast.

Never have I heard

of a greater company

gathered around a treasure giver.

Great ones sat at the benches

and rejoiced with the cup.

Those brave kinsmen

drank many a mead cup

in the high hall with

Hrothgar and Hrothulf, his nephew.

Herot was filled with friends

(treachery had not yet

come to the Danes).

Hrothgargave Beowulf

a gilded banner,

decorated battle flag,

as reward for victory.

Also a helmet, armor, and

a famous, precious sword

were given to the hero

before that company.

Around the helmet's top

as head-protection was

a wrap of metal bands

so that no sharpened swords

could harm him

in the battle storm

when the shield-warriors fight.

Beowulfdrank the cup.

He had no reason to be

ashamed among warriors

for taking those rich gifts.

Never have I heard

of golden treasure given

at the ale bench in

a more friendly way.

The kingordered eight horses

with gold-plaited bridles

led into the hall.

On one sat a saddle

inlaid with jewels--

it had been Hrothgar's

when he had gone to sword play.

Never had he failed

at the front

when corpses fell.

Hrothgar gave horses and weapons,

telling Beowulf to enjoy them well.

Thus like a man

that great prince,

treasure giver of heroes,

repaid Beowulf for his battle,

and no man who tells the truth.

will blame him. Then that chief of nobles

gave to each one on the mead bench

who had taken the ocean's way

with Beowulf an heirloom

and ordered that the one

Grendel killed in wickedness

should be paid for in gold.

(Grendel would have killed

more of them if wise God,

and Beowulf's courage,

had not prevented it.

The Creator then ruled the race of men,

as He does yet; and, therefore,

understanding is best:

the forethought of mind.

Much shall he abide,

from friends and foes,

who lives long in these

days of strife as he

makes use of this world!)

The PoetSings Of Old Trouble, how Hildeburh, married to stop a feud between Jutes andDanes, saw her husband, brother, and son killed

In thepresence of the battle leader

Hrothgar's poet touched

the harp and recited

many songs for entertainment

in the hall. He sang

of Finn's offspring and how

Hnaef of the Danes fell

in a Jute battlefield.

Indeed Hildeburh did not have

much cause to praise

the good faith of her in-laws,

the Jutes: though blameless,

she was deprived of dear ones

by the shield play, both her son

and Hnaef, her brother, in fate

fell to spear wounds.

That was a sad woman.

Not withoutcause, after

morning came, when she could

see under the sky,

did she bewail the decree

of fate, the slaughter

of kinsmen. At first she had

possessed the world's joy.

War took all but

a few of the Jute men

so they could not

fight the Dane Hengst nor

protect the survivors.

But Hengstoffered

them a deal: that

the Jutes would make

room for the Danes

in the beer hall and

that with gifts

King Finn would honor

Hengst's men, rings,

entertainment, and treasures

of plated gold as if

they were his kin.

Both sides agreed to the peace.

Finndeclared to Hengst

honest oaths that the survivors

would be held in honor

and that no man,

by words nor works,

would break the peace

nor in cruelty mention

that they were being friendly

with the killer of their king,

since a winter freeze had

forced it. If any of the Jutes

in daring speech mentioned it,

then the edge of the sword

would settle the matter.

A funeralpyre was readied

and gold brought from the hoard.

The best of the Danes

were ready for the pyre.

At the fire were blood stained

shirts of mail, boar images

all golden and iron-hard.

Not a few noble ones

had been destroyed by wounds!

Hildeburhordered her son

committed to the heat

of Hneaf's pyre; his muscles burned

at the shoulder of his uncle.

The woman mourned,

sang lamentation,

as the warrior ascended,

waned to the clouds,

as the greatest of death fires

roared on the barrow.

Heads melted,

wounds, hostile bites

to the body, opened

and burst; blood

sprang out. Fire,

the greediest of spirits,

swallowed everything,

of both peoples, there together.

Their power had passed away.

The warriorsdeparted,

bereft of friends,

to seek shelter

in the Jute land,

Jute homes and stronghold.

So Hengst spent

a slaughter-stained winter

with Finn because

he could not leave.

He thought of home

but could not go

in a ring-prowed ship

against the sea storm,

against the wind.

The water waves locked

in icy bindings until

another year came

to the gardens,

as they do yet,

glorious bright weather

to watch over the hall.

When winterhad passed

and earth's bosom turned

fair, the adventurer was

eager to go, the guest

from the dwelling, but first

Hengst thought more of revenge

for injury than of a sea journey,

how he might cause

a hostile meeting

with the Jutes

to repay them with iron.

So it was he did not complain

when the son of Hunlaf

laid Battle Bright,

the best of swords,

whose edges were

known to the Jutes,

on his lap.

So it was that Finn,

bold in spirit,

in his turn met

a cruel death by sword

in his own home

after Guthlaf and Oslaf

complained of their sorrows,

blaming their woes

on that sea journey.

A restless spirit is not

restrained by the breast.

Then was thehall reddened

with the life blood of enemies.

King Finn was slain

and Hildeburh taken.

The Danish warriors

carried to their ships

all the goods they could find

in the house, precious jewels.

They took the queen

on a sea journey

back to her people.

The poet'ssong was sung,

the mirth rose, bench noise,

as the cup bearers offered

wine from wondrous vessels.

--The Queen Speaks--

ThenWealhtheow came out

under a golden crown

to where the good men sat,

nephew and uncle (at that time

there was peace between the two,

each still true to the other).

Unferth thespokesman

sat at Hrothgar's feet--

everyone considered him

brave in spirit though

he had not been kind to

his kin at the sword's play.

Spoke thenthe queen of the Danes:

"Receive this cup,

my dear lord,

giver of treasure.

Be in joy,

gold friend of men,

and speak to these Geats

with kind words

as men should do.

Be gracious to the Geats

and mindful of the gifts

you have from near and far.

A man said to me

that he would have

this warrior for a son.

Herot, the bright ring hall,

is purged. Give while you can

many rewards and leave

to your kin people and land

when you must go

to learn fate's decree.

I know my nephew Hrothulf

will keep his honor

if you, king of the Danes,

leave this world earlier that he.

I know Hruthulf will remember

what we two wish

and the kindness we showed

when he was a child."

Wealhtheowturned then

to the bench where her sons

were, Hrethric and Hrothmund,

children of warriors,

the youth together.

There the good ones sat,

Beowulf of the Geats

and the two brothers.

To him the cup was carried

and friendship offered in words.

Wound gold was kindly bestowed:

two arm ornaments, shirts

of mail, rings, and the largest

neck ring I have heard

tell of on the earth.

I have notheard

of any greater hoard-treasures

under the sky since

Hama carried away

to his bright fortress

the necklace of the Brosings.

He fled a treacherous quarrel

from the king of the East Goths

with the ornament and its setting,

choosing everlasting gain.

(This is thering Hygelac

of the Geats, grandson of Swerting,

uncle of Beowulf, would have near

when he guarded the battle-spoil

under his banner. Fate would take him

when he courted trouble--

out of pride--in a feud

with the Frisians. He would wear

those noble stones over

the cup of the waves. He would

fall beneath his shield. His body,

his armor, and the ring also, would

pass into the power of the Franks.

Bad warriors rifled the corpses

after the battle slaughter.

The Geat people remained

in the field of corpses.)

Music filledthe hall. Wealhtheow

spoke before the company:

"Enjoy this neck-ring,

beloved Beowulf, young hero,

and use this armor, these

treasures of the people.

Thrive well, be known

for valor, and give kind

instruction to these two boys.

I will remember your deeds.

You have earned forever

the praise of men,

from near and far,

even to the home of the winds

and the walls of the sea.

Be blessed while you live, prince!

I wish you well with the treasures.

Be gentle, joyful one, to my sons.

In this place is each warrior

true to the other, mild

in spirit, an d faithful

to his king. The warriors

are united, the men drink

deep, and they do my biding."

She went toher seat.

There was a choice feast,

men drank wine.

They did not know

that grim fate

would come to many nobles

after evening fell

and powerful Hrothgar

went to his house to rest.

Countlesswarriors guarded the hall,

as they had often done:

they cleared the floor of benches,

spread out beds and cushions.

One of the beer drinkers,

doomed and fated,

lay on the couch.

They set by their heads

their war gear and bright

wood shields. There on the bench

over each warrior could be seen

a towering helmet, ringed armor,

and a huge wooden spear.

Their custom was that they were

always ready for war, both

in the field and at home, each

ready anytime his king needed him.

Those were good people.

end ofepisode six

Part Two: Grendel's Mother

--The Attack of Grendel'sMother--

They sankinto sleep.

One paid dearly for

his evening's rest,

as had happened often

since Grendel had come

to the gold hall

performing his evil

until the end came to him,

death after his sins.

It was soonlearned

and widely known among men

that an avenger yet lived

after that war-trouble:

Grendel's mother, a monster

woman, she who lived in

the terrible water,

the cold streams,

thought of her misery.

After Cainkilled his brother,

his father's son,

he went in guilt,

marked by murder,

fleeing the joys of men

to occupy the waste land.

There awoke many fated spirits,

Grendel being one,

that savage, hateful outcast.

At Herot he found a man

awake and ready for war.

The monster laid hold of him,

but Beowulf kept in mind his

strength, the precious gift

God had granted, and God gave

him help and support.

Thus Beowulf overcame that enemy,

subdued that hellish demon.

Then Grendel went,

the enemy of mankind,

deprived of joy,

seeking his death place.

So hismother, greedy

and gloomy as the gallows,

went on a sorrowful journey

to avenge her son's death.

So she cameto Herot where

the Danes slept in the hall.

The fortunes of the noble ones

changed when Grendel's mother

got inside: the terror was less

by just so much as

is the strength of a woman,

the war-horror of a woman,

is less than the horror of

a sword forged with hammer

and stained in blood

shearing the strong edges

of the boar on a helmet.

Hard edgeswere drawn in the hall,

swords off the benches,

and many broad shields fast in hand,

though they forgot about helmets

and broad mail shirts when

the terror seized them.

After theyhad seen her,

she was in haste

to get out of there

and save her life.

She quickly seized

one of the warriors

then headed back to the fens.

The warrior she killed,

in his sleep, was Hrothgar's

most trusted man, famous

between the two seas,

a glorious hero.

(Beowulf wasnot there,

for after the treasure-giving

the famous Geat had gone

to another house.)

She took herson's famous

blood-covered hand.

An outcry came from Herot,

care had been renewed

and returned to the dwelling

place--that was not a good

bargain, that both sides paid

with the lives of friends.

The wise oldking,

the gray warrior,

was in a savage mood

when he heard his

chief warrior was dead.

Beowulf was quickly

fetched to the chamber.

As day brokethe noble champion

together with his warriors

went to the wise ones, the hall's

wood floors resounding.

The wise ones all wondered

if ever the Almighty would

remove this woeful spell.

Beowulfasked with words

if the night had been

according to his desire

and all things agreeable.

Hrothgar,protector of the Danes, spoke:

"Don't ask about happiness!

Sorrow is renewed

among the Danish people.

Aeschere is dead, Yrmenlaf's

elder brother, my confidant,

the bearer of my advice, my

shoulder companion when troops

clash and boar helmets smashed.

As a noble prince should be,

such Aeschere was!

Now he has been slain

in Herot by the hands

of a restless, murderous spirit.

I do not know where

his carcass has gone

to be gladly feasted on.

She has avenged the feud

for your violent killing

with hard hand clasps

of Grendel yesternight

for diminishing and destroying

my people for so long.

Grendel fell in battle,

forfeited his life, and

now another has come,

a mighty man-eater

to avenge her kin,

as is seen by many

a warrior who mourns for me,

treasure giver, weeping in

their minds for my heavy

sorrow, a hand lying lifeless

who gave good things to you.

I have heard tell

among my people

and councilors that

they had seen two mighty

wanderers in the waste land

moors keeping guard,

alien spirits. One was,

as far as they could see,

the likeness of a woman.

The other miserable thing

in the stature of a man,

though he was larger

than any other man,

as they trod the paths of exiles.

In the days of old

earth dwellers called him Grendel.

We have no knowledge of a father,

of any forebears among evil spirits.

They occupied the secret land,

the wolf's retreat--

windy bluffs, perilous fens,

where a waterfall

darkens under bluffs

and goes down under the ground.

It is not far from here,

by measure of miles,

that the mere stands.

Over it hangs a frost-covered

grove, woods rooted deep-

shadowing the water.

There each night

a portent may be seen:

fire on the water.

No wise one among

the sons of men

knows the bottom.

Though the heath-stalker,

the strong-horned hart,

harassed by hounds, seeks

the forest in his flight,

he will give his life

rather than protect his head

by going there.

That is not a good place!

There water surges up,

black, to the clouds,

and the wind stirs up

hateful weather so that

the sky turns gloomy and weeps. . .

Again it has happened that

the remedy lies with you alone.

The land, the dangerous place

where you might find

this criminal is unexplored.

Seek it if you dare. . .

For that fight I will pay

as I did before with

wound gold and ancient

treasures. . .if you survive."

Beowulf, sonof Ecgtheow, spoke:

"Do not sorrow, wise king!

It is better for a man

to avenge a friend

than mourn much. Each of us

must await the end of this

life. He who wishes will

work for glory before death.

That is best for the warrior

after he is gone.

Arise, guardian of the kingdom,

let us go quickly

to see Grendel's kin.

I promise you this:

she will not escape to shelter--

not into the earth's bosom,

not into the mountain's wood,

not into the sea's bottom,

go where she will!

For this day, have

patience in each woe."

The veteranleapt up then,

thanking God, the Mighty One,

that the man had so spoken.

--The Expedition to Grendel'sMere--

A horse withplaited mane

was saddled for Hrothgar:

the wise king rode in splendor,

a band of men marching on foot.

Tracks wereclearly visible

going over the ground

along the forest paths

where she had gone forth

over the murky moors

carrying the good warrior,

the best of men, lifeless,

a man who had helped

Hrothgar guard his home.

The nobleHrothgar passed

over narrows, lonely paths,

steep, stony slopes

on that unknown way

among steep bluffs

and the homes of water monsters.

He and thewise men

went before the rest

to scout the place,

and suddenly, he saw

a joyless woods leaning over

turbid and bloody water.

For all the Danes

it was grievous, and

the warriors suffered

when they on the sea

cliff saw Aeschere's head.

The water boiled with blood

and hot gore as the men watched.

Sometimes ahorn sang out,

an eager war song, but

the troop all waited, watching

along the water the kin

of snakes, strange sea dragons,

swimming in the deep or

lying on the steep slopes--

water monsters, serpents, and

wild beasts, such as the ones

that appear on a dangerous

sea journey in the morning time.

When those creatures heard

the war horn's note

they hurried away

bitter and angry.

A man fromthe Geat

tribe with his bow

deprived of life, of

wave battle, one

of the monsters. An

arrow, war hard, stuck

in its heart, and it

swam more weakly

as death took it.

Quickly it was attacked

in the waves with barbed

spears and swords and

dragged by force to the

bluff, a wondrous sea roamer.

Warriors examined

the terrible stranger.

Beowulfarrayed himself

in armor, not at all

worrying about his life,

putting on his mail shirt,

large and decorated,

woven by hand so that

it could protect his chest

as he tried the water,

so that hostile grips,

the fury's malicious grasps,

might not scathe his life.

A shinyhelmet protected the head

that would go to the watery depths.

It was adorned with treasures,

encircled with splendid chains--

in the old days weapon-smiths

formed it wondrously, setting

on it boar figures so that

no sword could bite it in battle.

And it wasnot the weakest of helps

Unferth, Hrothgar's spokesman,

loaned: the hilted sword called

Hrunting, an ancient treasure

with edges of iron and adorned

with poison strips. That sword,

hardened in blood, had never failed

a man who grasped it in hand

and dared a terrible journey,

battles in a hostile place.

This would not be the first time

it had gone to do brave work.

Unferth, great of strength,

did not remember what he had

said, drunk on wine, but loaned

his weapon to a better sword

warrior: he himself did not

dare venture his life

under the terrible waves

to perform a deed of valor.

There he lost his fame,

his renown for valor.

This was notso for that other man,

he who prepared himself for war.

Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:

"Remember, Hrothgar, kin of Healfdene,

gold friend of men, wise king,

now that I am ready to start,

what we have spoken of--

if I, in your service,

lose my life, that you

will be in position of my father.

Be a protector of my warriors,

my comrades, if war takes me.

Also, beloved Hrothgar,

send the treasure you gave me

to Hygelac, king of the Geats,

that he may perceive from the gold,

beholding the treasure,

that I found a virtuous ring giver

who I enjoyed while I could.

And give Unferth my old heirloom,

my splendid wavy sword

widely known among men

to have a hard edge.

I will do my glory work

with Hrunting--or

death will take me. . ."

With thesewords

the chief of the Geats,

waiting for no reply,

hastened with bravery.

The surging water took

the warrior, and it was

a good part of a day

before he found the bottom.

She who hadfiercely guarded,

grim and greedy, that water

for a hundred half-years

quickly saw that some man

from above was exploring

the monsters' home. Then

the enemy seized the warrior

in her horrid clutches, yet

he was not injured--the ringed

armor protected him, and she

could not break his mail shirt

with her hostile claws.

The sea wolfbore

the armored warrior

down to her dwelling

at the bottom. He could not,

despite his bravery, command

his weapons--many a sea beast

harassed him with battle tusks,

trying to cut his armor.

Then thechief found

that he was with someone

in a hostile hall.

The flood's rush

could not harm him there

because of the hall's roof.

He saw afirelight shine

in a brilliant flame.

Then the warrior saw

that monster of the deep,

the mighty mere-woman.

He swung hisbattle sword

quickly--he did not hold

back--and the ringed blade

sang a greedy war song

on her head. But the guest

found that the flashing

sword would not bite,

could not harm her life--

the edge failed him at need.

(It had endured many

combats, often slashed helmets

and fated war garments. . .

This was the first time

that precious treasure

failed in its glory.)

But Beowulfwas resolute,

by no means slow in valor,

still thinking of daring deeds.

The angry warrior threw

the carved sword covered

in ornaments, stiff and edged

in iron, to the floor

and trusted in his powerful

hand grip. (So must a man do

when he wishes for enduring

fame at war: he cannot

The lord of the Geats

did not grieve at the battle

but seized Grendel's mother

by the shoulder.

Now he was enraged

and flung his deadly foe

to the ground.

She paid himback quickly

with angry claws and

clutched him against her.

At that moment

the strongest of warriors

felt sick at heart:

he fell. She sat

on her hall guest

and drew a dagger,

wide and brown-edged--

she would avenge her son,

her only offspring.

On hisshoulder lay

the woven mail shirt.

It protected his life,

withstood the entrance

of point and edge.

Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow,

champion of the Geats,

would have perished then

under the wide ground

had not his armor,

his hard war net, helped

him (and Holy God, who

brought about war victory).

The wiseruler of the skies

decided justice easily when

Beowulf stood up again:

there among the weapons

he saw a victory-blessed sword,

an old sword made by giants

with strong edges, the glory

of warriors. It was

the choicest of weapons,

good and majestical,

the work of giants, but

larger than any other man

could carry to battle sport.

He whofought for the Danes,

fierce and sword grim,

despairing of life,

seized the chain-wound hilt,

drew the ringed sword,

and angrily struck--

It grasped her neck hard

and her bone rings broke.

The blade entered

the fated body.

She fell to the ground.

The sword was bloody,

and the warrior rejoiced

in his work.

Suddenlylight glittered,

a light brightened within,

as bright and clear as

the candle of the sky.

He looked around the building,

walked around the walls.

He raised the weapon

hard by its hilt--

Beowulf was angry and resolute.

The edge was not useless

to the warrior--he wished

to requite Grendel for

the many attacks he

had made on the Danes,

much more often

than on one occasion,

when he had slain

Hrothgar's guests in their sleep.

Fifteen