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Chapter 39
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| | "THE bloody swath of Swedes and Geats | |
| | and the storm of their strife, were seen afar, | |
| | how folk against folk the fight had wakened. | |
| | The ancient king with his atheling band | |
| | sought his citadel, sorrowing much: | |
| | Ongentheow earl went up to his burg. | |
| | He had tested Hygelac's hardihood, | |
| | the proud one's prowess, would prove it no longer, | |
| | defied no more those fighting-wanderers | |
| | nor hoped from the seamen to save his hoard, | |
| | his bairn and his bride: so he bent him again, | |
| | old, to his earth-walls. Yet after him came | |
| | with slaughter for Swedes the standards of Hygelac | |
| | o'er peaceful plains in pride advancing, | |
| | till Hrethelings fought in the fenced town.[1] | |
| | Then Ongentheow with edge of sword, | |
| | the hoary-bearded, was held at bay, | |
| | and the folk-king there was forced to suffer | |
| | Eofor's anger. In ire, at the king | |
| | Wulf Wonreding with weapon struck; | |
| | and the chieftain's blood, for that blow, in streams | |
| | flowed 'neath his hair. No fear felt he, | |
| | stout old Scylfing, but straightway repaid | |
| | in better bargain that bitter stroke | |
| | and faced his foe with fell intent. | |
| | Nor swift enough was the son of Wonred | |
| | answer to render the aged chief; | |
| | too soon on his head the helm was cloven; | |
| | blood-bedecked he bowed to earth, | |
| | and fell adown; not doomed was he yet, | |
| | and well he waxed, though the wound was sore. | |
| | Then the hardy Hygelac-thane,[2] | |
| | when his brother fell, with broad brand smote, | |
| | giants' sword crashing through giants'-helm | |
| | across the shield-wall: sank the king, | |
| | his folk's old herdsman, fatally hurt. | |
| | There were many to bind the brother's wounds | |
| | and lift him, fast as fate allowed | |
| | his people to wield the place-of-war. | |
| | But Eofor took from Ongentheow, | |
| | earl from other, the iron-breastplate, | |
| | hard sword hilted, and helmet too, | |
| | and the hoar-chief's harness to Hygelac carried, | |
| | who took the trappings, and truly promised | |
| | rich fee 'mid folk,—and fulfilled it so. | |
| | For that grim strife gave the Geatish lord, | |
| | Hrethel's offspring, when home he came, | |
| | to Eofor and Wulf a wealth of treasure, | |
| | Each of them had a hundred thousand[3] | |
| | in land and linked rings; nor at less price reckoned | |
| | mid-earth men such mighty deeds! | |
| | And to Eofor he gave his only daughter | |
| | in pledge of grace, the pride of his home. | |
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| | "Such is the feud, the foeman's rage, | |
| | death-hate of men: so I deem it sure | |
| | that the Swedish folk will seek us home | |
| | for this fall of their friends, the fighting-Scylfings, | |
| | when once they learn that our warrior leader | |
| | lifeless lies, who land and hoard | |
| | ever defended from all his foes, | |
| | furthered his folk's weal, finished his course | |
| | a hardy hero.—Now haste is best, | |
| | that we go to gaze on our Geatish lord, | |
| | and bear the bountiful breaker-of-rings | |
| | to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely | |
| | shall burn with the warrior. Wealth of jewels, | |
| | gold untold and gained in terror, | |
| | treasure at last with his life obtained, | |
| | all of that booty the brands shall take, | |
| | fire shall eat it. No earl must carry | |
| | memorial jewel. No maiden fair | |
| | shall wreathe her neck with noble ring: | |
| | nay, sad in spirit and shorn of her gold, | |
| | oft shall she pass o'er paths of exile | |
| | now our lord all laughter has laid aside, | |
| | all mirth and revel. Many a spear | |
| | morning-cold shall be clasped amain, | |
| | lifted aloft; nor shall lilt of harp | |
| | those warriors wake; but the wan-hued raven, | |
| | fain o'er the fallen, his feast shall praise | |
| | and boast to the eagle how bravely he ate | |
| | when he and the wolf were wasting the slain." | |
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| | So he told his sorrowful tidings, | |
| | and little[4] he lied, the loyal man | |
| | of word or of work. The warriors rose; | |
| | sad, they climbed to the Cliff-of-Eagles, | |
| | went, welling with tears, the wonder to view. | |
| | Found on the sand there, stretched at rest, | |
| | their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings | |
| | of old upon them. Ending-day | |
| | had dawned on the doughty-one; death had seized | |
| | in woful slaughter the Weders' king. | |
| | There saw they, besides, the strangest being, | |
| | loathsome, lying their leader near, | |
| | prone on the field. The fiery dragon, | |
| | fearful fiend, with flame was scorched. | |
| | Reckoned by feet, it was fifty measures | |
| | in length as it lay. Aloft erewhile | |
| | it had revelled by night, and anon come back, | |
| | seeking its den; now in death's sure clutch | |
| | it had come to the end of its earth-hall joys. | |
| | By it there stood the stoups and jars; | |
| | dishes lay there, and dear-decked swords | |
| | eaten with rust, as, on earth's lap resting, | |
| | a thousand winters they waited there. | |
| | For all that heritage huge, that gold | |
| | of bygone men, was bound by a spell,[5] | |
| | so the treasure-hall could be touched by none | |
| | of human kind,—save that Heaven's King, | |
| | God himself, might give whom he would, | |
| | Helper of Heroes, the hoard to open,— | |
| | even such a man as seemed to him meet. | |
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| | [1] The line may mean: till Hrethelings stormed on the hedged | |
| | shields,—i.e. the shield-wall or hedge of defensive war— | |
| | Hrethelings, of course, are Geats. [2] Eofor, brother to Wulf | |
| | Wonreding. [3] Sc. "value in" hides and the weight of the gold. | |
| | [4] Not at all. [5] Laid on it when it was put in the barrow. | |
| | This spell, or in our days the "curse," either prevented | |
| | discovery or brought dire ills on the finder and taker. | |
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