Beowulf: A New Verse Translation

by Seamus Heaney

So they went on their way. The ship rode the water,

broad-beamed, bound by its hawser

and anchored fast. Boar-shapes flashed

above their cheek-guards, the brightly forged

work of goldsmiths, watching over

those stern-faced men. They marched in step,

hurrying on till the timbered hall

rose before them, radiant with gold.

Nobody on earth knew of another

building like it. Majesty lodged there,

its light shone over many lands.

So their gallant escort guided them

to that dazzling stronghold and indicated

the shortest way to it; then the noble warrior

wheeled on his horse and spoke these words:

"It is time for me to go. May the Almighty

Father keep you and in His kindness

watch over your exploits. I'm away to the sea,

back on alert against enemy raiders."

It was a paved track, a path that kept them

in marching order. Their mail-shirts glinted,

hard and hand-linked; the high-gloss iron

of their armour rang. So they duly arrived

in their grim war-graith and gear at the hall,

and, weary from the sea, stacked wide shields

of the toughest hardwood against the wall,

then collapsed on the benches; battle-dress

and weapons clashed. They collected their spears

in a seafarers' stook, a stand of greyish

tapering ash. And the troops themselves

were as good as their weapons.

Then a proud warrior

questioned the men concerning their origins:

"Where do you come from, carrying these

decorated shields and shirts of mail,

these cheek-hinged helmets and javelins?

I am Hrothgar's herald and officer.

I have never seen so impressive or large

an assembly of strangers. Stoutness of heart,

bravery not banishment, must have brought you to Hrothgar."

The man whose name was known for courage,

the Geat leader, resolute in his helmet,

answered in return: "We are retainers

from Hygelac's band. Beowulf is my name.

If your lord and master, the most renowned

son of Halfdane, will hear me out

and graciously allow me to greet him in person,

I am ready and willing to report my errand."

Wulfgar replied, a Wendel chief

renowned as a warrior, well known for his wisdom

and the temper of his mind: "I will take this message,

in accordance with your wish, to our noble king,

our dear lord, friend of the Danes,

the giver of rings. I will go and ask him

about your coming here, then hurry back

with whatever reply it pleases him to give."

With that he turned to where Hrothgar sat,

an old man among retainers;

the valiant follower stood four-square

in front of his king: he knew the courtesies.

Wulfgar addressed his dear lord:360

"People from Geatland have put ashore.

They have sailed far over the wide sea.

They call the chief in charge of their band

by the name of Beowulf. They beg, my lord,

an audience with you, exchange of words

and formal greeting. Most gracious Hrothgar,

do not refuse them, but grant them a reply.

From their arms and appointment, they appear well born

and worthy of respect, especially the one

who has led them this far; he is formidable indeed."

Hrothgar, protector of Shieldings, replied:

"I used to know him when he was a young boy.

His father before him was called Ecgtheow.

Hrethel the Geat gave Ecgtheow

his daughter in marriage. This man is their son,

here to follow up an old friendship.

A crew of seamen who sailed for me once

with a gift-cargo across to Geatland

returned with marvellous tales about him:

a thane, they declared, with the strength of thirty

in the grip of each hand. Now Holy God

has, in His goodness, guided him here

to the West-Danes, to defend us from Grendel.

This is my hope; and for his heroism

I will recompense him with a rich treasure.

Go immediately, bid him and the Geats

he has in attendance to assemble and enter.

Say, moreover, when you speak to them,

they are welcome to Denmark."

At the door of the hall,

Wulfgar duly delivered the message:

390

"My lord, the conquering king of the Danes,

bids me announce that he knows your ancestry;

also that he welcomes you here to Heorot

and salutes your arrival from across the sea.

You are free to move forward

to meet Hrothgar, in helmets and armour,

but shields must stay here and spears be stacked

until the outcome of the audience is clear."

The hero arose, surrounded closely

by his powerful thanes. A party remained

under orders to keep watch on the arms;

the rest proceeded, led by their prince

under Heorot's roof. And standing on the hearth

in webbed links that the smith had woven,

the fine-forged mesh of his gleaming mail-shirt,

resolute in his helmet, Beowulf spoke:

"Greetings to Hrothgar. I am Hygelac's kinsman,

one of his hall-troop. When I was younger,

I had great triumphs. Then news of Grendel,

hard to ignore, reached me at home:

sailors brought stories of the plight you suffer

in this legendary hall, how it lies deserted,

empty and useless once the evening light

hides itself under heaven's dome.

So every elder and experienced councilman

among my people supported my resolve

to come here to you, King Hrothgar,

because all knew of my awesome strength.

They had seen me boltered in the blood of enemies

when I battled and bound five beasts,

raided a troll-nest and in the night-sea

slaughtered sea-brutes. I have suffered extremes

and avenged the Geats (their enemies brought it

upon themselves, I devastated them).

Now I mean to be a match for Grendel,

settle the outcome in single combat.

And so, my request, O king of Bright-Danes,

dear prince of Shieldings, friend of the people

and their ring of defence, my one request

is that you won't refuse me, who have come this far,

the privilege of purifying Heorot,

with my own men to help me, and nobody else.

I have heard moreover that the monster scorns

in his reckless way to use weapons;

therefore, to heighten Hygelac's fame

and gladden his heart, I hereby renounce

sword and the shelter of the broad shield,

the heavy war-broad: hand-to-hand

is how it will be, a life-and-death

fight with the fiend. Whichever one death fells

must deem it a just judgment by God.

If Grendel wins, it will be a gruesome day;

he will glut himself on the Geats in the war-hall,

swoop without fear on that flower of manhood

as on others before. Then my face won't be there

to be covered in death: he will carry me away

as he goes to ground, gorged and bloodied;

he will run gloating with my raw corpse

and feed on it alone, in a cruel frenzy,

fouling his moor-nest. No need, then

to lament for long or lay out my body:

if the battle takes me, send back

this breast-webbing that Weland fashioned

and Hrethel gave me, to Lord Hygelac.

Fate goes ever as fate must."

Hrothgar, the helmet of Shieldings, spoke:

"Beowulf, my friend, you have travelled here

to favor us with help and fight for us.

There was a feud one time, begun by your father.

With his own hands he had killed Heatholaf,

who was a Wulfing; so war was looming

and his people, in fear of it, forced him to leave.

He came away then over rolling waves

to the South-Danes here, the sons of honour.

I was then in the first flush of kingship,

establishing my sway over all the rich strongholds

of this heroic land. Heorogar,

my older brother and the better man,

also a son of Halfdane's, had died.

Finally I healed the feud by paying:

I shipped a treasure-trove to the Wulfings

and Ecgtheow acknowledged me with oaths of allegiance.

"It bothers me to have to burden anyone

with all the grief Grendel has caused

and the havoc he has wreaked upon us in Heorot,

our humiliations. My household-guard

are on the wane, fate sweeps them away

into Grendel's clutches—

but God can easily

halt these raids and harrowing attacks!

"Time and again, when the goblets passed

and seasoned fighters got flushed with beer

they would pledge themselves to protect Heorot

and wait for Grendel with whetted swords.

But when dawn broke and day crept in

over each empty, blood-spattered bench,

the floor of the mead-hall where they had feasted

would be slick with slaughter. And so they died,

faithful retainers, and my following dwindled.

Now take your place at the table, relish

the triumph of heroes to your heart's content."

Then a bench was cleared in that banquet hall

so the Geats could have room to be together

and the party sat, proud in their bearing,

strong and stalwart. An attendant stood by

with a decorated pitcher, pouring bright

helpings of mead. And the minstrel sang,

filling Heorot with his head-clearing voice,

gladdening that great rally of Geats and Danes.

From where he crouched at the king's feet,

Unferth, a son of Ecglaf's, spoke

contrary words. Beowulf's coming,

his sea-braving, made him sick with envy:

he could not brook or abide the fact

that anyone else alive under heaven

might enjoy greater regard than he did:

"Are you the Beowulf who took on Breca

in a swimming match on the open sea,

risking the water just to prove that you could win?

It was sheer vanity made you venture out

on the main deep. And no matter who tried,

friend or foe, to deflect the pair of you,

neither would back down: the sea-test obsessed you.

You waded in, embracing water,

taking its measure, mastering currents,

riding on the swell. The ocean swayed,

winter went wild in the waves, but you vied

for seven nights; and then he outswam you,

came ashore the stronger contender.

He was cast up safe and sound one morning

among the Heathoreams, then made his way

to where he belonged in Bronding country,

home again, sure of his ground

in strongroom and bawn. So Breca made good

his boast upon you and was proved right.

No matter, therefore, how you may have fared

in every bout and battle until now,

this time you'll be worsted; no one has ever

outlasted an entire night against Grendel."

Beowulf, Ecgtheow's son, replied:

"Well, friend Unferth, you have had your say

about Breca and me. But it was mostly beer

that was doing the talking. The truth is this:

when the going was heavy in those high waves,

I was the strongest swimmer of all.

We'd been children together and we grew up

daring ourselves to outdo each other,

boasting and urging each other to risk

our lives on the sea. And so it turned out.

Each of us swam holding a sword,

a naked, hard-proofed blade for protection

against the whale-beasts. But Breca could never

move out farther or faster from me

than I could manage to move from him.

Shoulder to shoulder, we struggled on

for five nights, until the long flow

and pitch of the waves, the perishing cold,

night falling and winds from the north

drove us apart. The deep boiled up

and its wallowing sent the sea-brutes wild.

My armour helped me to hold out;

my hard-ringed chain-mail, hand-forged and linked,

a fine, close-fitting filigree of gold,

kept me safe when some ocean creature

pulled me to the bottom. Pinioned fast

and swathed in its grip, I was granted one

final chance: my sword plunged

and the ordeal was over. Through my own hands,

the fury of battle had finished the sea-beast.

"Time and again, foul things attacked me,

lurking and stalking, but I lashed out,

gave as good as I got with my sword.

My flesh was not for feasting on,

there would be no monsters gnawing and gloating

over their banquet at the bottom of the sea.

Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping

the sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated

like the ocean's leavings. From now on

sailors would be safe, the deep-sea raids

were over for good. Light came from the east,

bright guarantee of God, and the waves

went quiet; I could see headlands

and buffeted cliffs. Often, for undaunted courage,

fate spares the man it has not already marked.

However it occurred, my sword had killed

nine sea-monsters. Such night-dangers

and hard ordeals I have never heard of

nor of a man more desolate in surging waves.

But worn out as I was, I survived,

came through with my life. The ocean lifted

and laid me ashore, I landed safe

on the coast of Finland.

Now I cannot recall

any fight you entered, Unferth,

that bears comparison. I don't boast when I say

that neither you nor Breca were ever much

celebrated for swordsmanship

or for facing danger on the field of battle.

You killed your own kith and kin,

so for all your cleverness and quick tongue,

you will suffer damnation in the depths of hell.

The fact is, Unferth, if you were truly

as keen or courageous as you claim to be

Grendel would never have got away with

such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king,

havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.

But he knows he need never be in dread

of your blade making a mizzle of his blood

or a vengeance arriving ever from this quarter—

from the Victory-Shieldings, the shoulders of the spear.

He knows he can trample down you Danes

to his heart's content, humiliate and murder

without fear of reprisal. But he will find me different.

I will show him how Geats shape to kill

in the heat of battle. Then whoever wants to

may go bravely to mead, when morning light,

scarfed in sun-dazzle, shines forth from the south

and brings another daybreak to the world."

Then the grey-haired treasure-giver was glad;

far-famed in battle, the prince of Bright-Danes

and keeper of his people counted on Beowulf,

on the warrior's steadfastness and his word.

So the laughter started, the din got louder

and the crowd was happy. Wealhtheow came in,

Hrothgar's queen, observing the courtesies.

Adorned in her gold, she graciously saluted

the men in hall, then handed the cup

first to Hrothgar, their homeland's guardian,

urging him to drink deep and enjoy it

because he was dear to them. And he drank it down

like the warlord he was, with festive cheer.

So the Helming woman went on her rounds,

queenly and dignified, decked out in rings,

offering the goblet to all ranks,

treating the household and the assembled troop

until it was Beowulf's turn to take it from her hand.

With measured words she welcomed the Geat

and thanked God for granting her wish

that a deliverer she could believe in would arrive

to ease their afflictions. He accepted the cup,

a daunting man, dangerous in action

and eager for it always. He addressed Wealhtheow;

Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, said:

"I had a fixed purpose when I put to sea.

As I sat in the boat with my band of men,

I meant to perform to the uttermost

what your people wanted or perish in the attempt,

in the fiend's clutches. And I shall fulfil that purpose,

prove myself with a proud deed

or meet my death here in the mead-hall."

This formal boast by Beowulf the Geat

pleased the lady well and she went to sit

by Hrothgar, regal and arrayed with gold.

Then it was like old times in the echoing hall,

proud talk and the people happy,

loud and excited; until soon enough

Halfdane's heir had to be away

to his night's rest. He realized

that the demon was going to descend on the hall,

that he had plotted all day, from dawn-light

until darkness gathered again over the world

and stealthy night-shapes came stealing forth

under the cloud-murk. The company stood

as the two leaders took leave of each other:

Hrothgar wished Beowulf health and good luck,

named him hall-warden and announced as follows:

"Never, since my hand could hold a shield

have I entrusted or given control

of the Danes' hall to anyone but you.

Ward and guard it, for it is the greatest of houses.

Be on your mettle now, keep in mind your fame,

beware of the enemy. There's nothing you wish for

that won't be yours if you win through alive."