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| THEN hastened those heroes their home to see, |
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| friendless, to find the Frisian land, |
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| houses and high burg. Hengest still |
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| through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn, |
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| holding pact, yet of home he minded, |
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| though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive |
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| over the waters, now waves rolled fierce |
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| lashed by the winds, or winter locked them |
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| in icy fetters. Then fared another |
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| year to men's dwellings, as yet they do, |
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| the sunbright skies, that their season ever |
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| duly await. Far off winter was driven; |
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| fair lay earth's breast; and fain was the rover, |
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| the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered |
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| on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep, |
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| and how to hasten the hot encounter |
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| where sons of the Frisians were sure to be. |
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| So he escaped not the common doom, |
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| when Hun with "Lafing," the light-of-battle, |
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| best of blades, his bosom pierced: |
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| its edge was famed with the Frisian earls. |
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| On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise, |
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| on himself at home, the horrid sword-death; |
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| for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack |
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| had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed, |
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| mourning their woes.[1] Finn's wavering spirit |
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| bode not in breast. The burg was reddened |
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| with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain, |
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| king amid clansmen; the queen was taken. |
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| To their ship the Scylding warriors bore |
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| all the chattels the chieftain owned, |
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| whatever they found in Finn's domain |
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| of gems and jewels. The gentle wife |
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| o'er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore, |
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| led to her land. |
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| The lay was finished, |
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| the gleeman's song. Then glad rose the revel; |
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| bench-joy brightened. Bearers draw |
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| from their "wonder-vats" wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth, |
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| under gold-crown goes where the good pair sit, |
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| uncle and nephew, true each to the other one, |
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| kindred in amity. Unferth the spokesman |
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| at the Scylding lord's feet sat: men had faith in his spirit, |
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| his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him |
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| unsure at the sword-play. The Scylding queen spoke: |
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| "Quaff of this cup, my king and lord, |
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| breaker of rings, and blithe be thou, |
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| gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak |
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| such words of mildness as man should use. |
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| Be glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful, |
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| or near or far, which now thou hast. |
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| Men say to me, as son thou wishest |
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| yon hero to hold. Thy Heorot purged, |
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| jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while thou canst, |
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| with many a largess; and leave to thy kin |
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| folk and realm when forth thou goest |
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| to greet thy doom. For gracious I deem |
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| my Hrothulf,[2] willing to hold and rule |
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| nobly our youths, if thou yield up first, |
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| prince of Scyldings, thy part in the world. |
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| I ween with good he will well requite |
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| offspring of ours, when all he minds |
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| that for him we did in his helpless days |
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| of gift and grace to gain him honor!" |
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| Then she turned to the seat where her sons wereplaced, |
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| Hrethric and Hrothmund, with heroes' bairns, |
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| young men together: the Geat, too, sat there, |
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| Beowulf brave, the brothers between. |
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| [1] That is, these two Danes, escaping home, had told the story |
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| of the attack on Hnaef, the slaying of Hengest, and all the |
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| Danish woes. Collecting a force, they return to Frisia and kill |
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| Finn in his home. [2] Nephew to Hrothgar, with whom he |
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| subsequently quarrels, and elder cousin to the two young sons of |
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| Hrothgar and Wealhtheow,—their natural guardian in the event |
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| of the king's death. There is something finely feminine in this |
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| speech of Wealhtheow's, apart from its somewhat irregular and |
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| irrelevant sequence of topics. Both she and her lord probably |
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| distrust Hrothulf; but she bids the king to be of good cheer, |
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| and, turning to the suspect, heaps affectionate assurances on his |
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| probity. "My own Hrothulf" will surely not forget these favors |
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| and benefits of the past, but will repay them to the orphaned |
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| boy. |
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|
