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| THAT battle-toil bade he at burg to announce, |
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| at the fort on the cliff, where, full of sorrow, |
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| all the morning earls had sat, |
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| daring shieldsmen, in doubt of twain: |
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| would they wail as dead, or welcome home, |
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| their lord beloved? Little[1] kept back |
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| of the tidings new, but told them all, |
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| the herald that up the headland rode.— |
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| "Now the willing-giver to Weder folk |
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| in death-bed lies; the Lord of Geats |
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| on the slaughter-bed sleeps by the serpent's deed! |
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| And beside him is stretched that slayer-of-men |
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| with knife-wounds sick:[2] no sword availed |
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| on the awesome thing in any wise |
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| to work a wound. There Wiglaf sitteth, |
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| Weohstan's bairn, by Beowulf's side, |
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| the living earl by the other dead, |
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| and heavy of heart a head-watch[3] keeps |
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| o'er friend and foe.—Now our folk may look |
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| for waging of war when once unhidden |
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| to Frisian and Frank the fall of the king |
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| is spread afar.—The strife began |
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| when hot on the Hugas[4] Hygelac fell |
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| and fared with his fleet to the Frisian land. |
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| Him there the Hetwaras humbled in war, |
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| plied with such prowess their power o'erwhelming |
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| that the bold-in-battle bowed beneath it |
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| and fell in fight. To his friends no wise |
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| could that earl give treasure! And ever since |
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| the Merowings' favor has failed us wholly. |
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| Nor aught expect I of peace and faith |
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| from Swedish folk. 'Twas spread afar |
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| how Ongentheow reft at Ravenswood |
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| Haethcyn Hrethling of hope and life, |
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| when the folk of Geats for the first time sought |
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| in wanton pride the Warlike-Scylfings. |
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| Soon the sage old sire[5] of Ohtere, |
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| ancient and awful, gave answering blow; |
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| the sea-king[6] he slew, and his spouse redeemed, |
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| his good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold, |
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| mother of Ohtere and Onela. |
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| Then he followed his foes, who fled before him |
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| sore beset and stole their way, |
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| bereft of a ruler, to Ravenswood. |
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| With his host he besieged there what swords had left, |
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| the weary and wounded; woes he threatened |
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| the whole night through to that hard-pressed throng: |
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| some with the morrow his sword should kill, |
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| some should go to the gallows-tree |
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| for rapture of ravens. But rescue came |
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| with dawn of day for those desperate men |
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| when they heard the horn of Hygelac sound, |
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| tones of his trumpet; the trusty king |
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| had followed their trail with faithful band. |
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|
