Beowulf in Parallel Texts. Sung-Il Lee
adorned
With weapons and battle-gear,
With bills and coats of mail; on his breast lay 40
Many a treasure, which was bound to go
Far with him, drifting on the powerful waves.
They no less lavishly provided him with gifts,
People’s treasures, than those who did
At the outset let him float down alone 45
As a child, drifting on the turbulent waves.
To boot, they set up a golden banner for him,
High over his head, let the sea bear it,
Gave it to the ocean; for them sadness welled in hearts,
Grief overflowed the hearts’ brim. Men cannot 50
Tell truly—hall-thanes or field-warriors—
Who received the cargo beneath the sky.
(I) Then in the castle Beow of the Danes, dear
Prince of the people, long remained renowned
Among nations—his father and lord having gone elsewhere, 55
Away from his earthly dwelling—till for them again
Rose high Healfdene, who, aged and fierce in battle,
Ruled the glorious Danes while he lived.
Đæm feower bearn forð gerimed
in worold wocun, weoroda ræswa[n], 60
Heorogar ond Hroðgar ond Halga til;
hyrde ic þæt [. . . .] wæs Onelan cwen,
Heaðo-Scilfingas healsgebedda.
Þa wæs Hroðgare heresped gyfen,
wiges weorðmynd, þæt him his winemagas 65
georne hyrdon, oðð þæt seo geogoð geweox,
magodriht micel. Him on mod bearn,
þæt healreced hatan wolde,
medoærn micel, men gewyrcean
þonne yldo bearn æfre gefrunon, 70
ond þær on innan eall gedælan
geongum ond ealdum, swylc him God sealde,
buton folcscare ond feorum gumena.
Đa ic wide gefrægn weorc gebannan
manigre mægþe geond þisne middangeard, 75
folcstede frætwan. Him on fyrste gelomp,
ædre mid yldum, þæt hit wearð ealgearo,
healærna mæst; scop him Heort naman
se þe his wordes geweald wide hæfde.
He beot ne aleh, beagas dælde, 80
sinc æt symle. Sele hlifade
heah ond horngeap; heaðowylma bad,
laðan liges; ne wæs hit lenge þa gen,
þæt se ecghete aþumswerian*
æfter wæl-niðe wæcnan scolde. 85
Đa se ellengæst earfoðlice
þrage geþolode, se þe in þystrum bad,
þæt he dogora gehwam dream gehyrde
To him four children all told were born
In the world, to the leader of the bands: 60
Heorogar and Hrothgar and good Halga;
I have heard that . . . was Onela’s queen,
Dear bed-sharer of the Heatho-Scilfing.*
Then to Hrothgar was granted success in battles,
Warlike glory, so that his friendly kinsmen obeyed him 65
With all their hearts—till the youth grew to command
A great band of retainers. It came into his mind
That he would give out the order that men build
A pavilion, the greatest mead-hall that
The sons of men had ever heard of, 70
And therein distribute to the young and the old
All the possession that God had given him—
Except public property and people’s lives.
Then, I have heard, it was widely bidden
That many a clan throughout the world 75
Partake in building the folk-stead. It came to pass in time,
Forthwith among men, that it became quite ready,
The greatest of halls. He named it Heorot,
He who had the power to make his words widely listened to.
He did not fail to keep his promise to dispense rings, 80
Treasure at feast; the hall towered,
High and wide-gabled: it waited for the hostile flames
Of a dreadful fire; it was by no means time yet
That hostility between a son-in-law and his father-in-law
Came to rise after a deadly feud.* 85
Then the powerful demon could hardly endure
Distress—he who dwelt in darkness—
That he heard loud merrymaking every day,
hludne in healle; þær wæs hearpan sweg,
swutol sang scopes. Sægde se þe cuþe 90
frumsceaft fira feorran reccan,
cwæð þæt se Ælmihtiga eorðan worh[te],
wlite-beorhtne wang, swa wæter bebugeð,
gesette sigehreþig sunnan ond monan
leoman to leohte landbuendum, 95
ond gefrætwade foldan sceatas
leomum ond leafum, life eac gesceop
cynna gehwylcum þara ðe cwice hwyrfaþ.
Swa ða drihtguman dreamum lifdon
eadiglice, oð ðæt an ongan 100
fyrene fre[m]man feond on helle;
wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,
mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold,
fen ond fæsten; fifelcynnes eard
wonsæli wer weardode hwile, 105
siþðan him Scyppend forscrifen hæfde
in Caines cynne— þone cwealm gewræc
ece Drihten, þæs þe he Abel slog;
ne gefeah he þære fæhðe, ac he hine feor forwræc,
Metod for þy mane, mancynne fram. 110
Þanon untydras ealle onwocon,
eotenas ond ylfe ond orcnêas,
swylce gigantas, þa wið Gode wunnon
lange þrage; he him ðæs lean forgeald.
(II) Gewat ða neosian, syþðan niht becom, 115
hêan huses, hu hit Hring-Dene
æfter beorþege gebun hæfdon.
Fand þa ðær inne æþelinga gedriht
Coming from the hall;