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| HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings:— |
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| "I knew him of yore in his youthful days; |
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| his aged father was Ecgtheow named, |
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| to whom, at home, gave Hrethel the Geat |
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| his only daughter. Their offspring bold |
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| fares hither to seek the steadfast friend. |
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| And seamen, too, have said me this,— |
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| who carried my gifts to the Geatish court, |
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| thither for thanks,—he has thirty men's |
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| heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand, |
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| the bold-in-battle. Blessed God |
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| out of his mercy this man hath sent |
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| to Danes of the West, as I ween indeed, |
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| against horror of Grendel. I hope to give |
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| the good youth gold for his gallant thought. |
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| Be thou in haste, and bid them hither, |
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| clan of kinsmen, to come before me; |
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| and add this word,—they are welcome guests |
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| to folk of the Danes." |
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| [To the door of the hall |
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| Wulfgar went] and the word declared:— |
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| "To you this message my master sends, |
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| East-Danes' king, that your kin he knows, |
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| hardy heroes, and hails you all |
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| welcome hither o'er waves of the sea! |
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| Ye may wend your way in war-attire, |
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| and under helmets Hrothgar greet; |
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| but let here the battle-shields bide your parley, |
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| and wooden war-shafts wait its end." |
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| Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men, |
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| brave band of thanes: some bode without, |
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| battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief. |
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| Then hied that troop where the herald led them, |
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| under Heorot's roof: [the hero strode,] |
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| hardy 'neath helm, till the hearth he neared. |
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| Beowulf spake,—his breastplate gleamed, |
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| war-net woven by wit of the smith:— |
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| "Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac's I, |
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| kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty |
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| have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds |
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| I heard in my home-land heralded clear. |
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| Seafarers say how stands this hall, |
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| of buildings best, for your band of thanes |
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| empty and idle, when evening sun |
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| in the harbor of heaven is hidden away. |
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| So my vassals advised me well,— |
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| brave and wise, the best of men,— |
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| O sovran Hrothgar, to seek thee here, |
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| for my nerve and my might they knew full well. |
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| Themselves had seen me from slaughter come |
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| blood-flecked from foes, where five I bound, |
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| and that wild brood worsted. I' the waves I slew |
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| nicors[1] by night, in need and peril |
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| avenging the Weders,[2] whose woe they sought,— |
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| crushing the grim ones. Grendel now, |
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| monster cruel, be mine to quell |
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| in single battle! So, from thee, |
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| thou sovran of the Shining-Danes, |
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| Scyldings'-bulwark, a boon I seek,— |
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| and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not, |
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| O Warriors'-shield, now I've wandered far,— |
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| that I alone with my liegemen here, |
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| this hardy band, may Heorot purge! |
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| More I hear, that the monster dire, |
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| in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not; |
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| hence shall I scorn—so Hygelac stay, |
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| king of my kindred, kind to me!— |
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| brand or buckler to bear in the fight, |
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| gold-colored targe: but with gripe alone |
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| must I front the fiend and fight for life, |
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| foe against foe. Then faith be his |
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| in the doom of the Lord whom death shall take. |
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| Fain, I ween, if the fight he win, |
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| in this hall of gold my Geatish band |
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| will he fearless eat,—as oft before,— |
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| my noblest thanes. Nor need'st thou then |
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| to hide my head;[3] for his shall I be, |
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| dyed in gore, if death must take me; |
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| and my blood-covered body he'll bear as prey, |
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| ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely, |
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| with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen: |
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| no further for me need'st food prepare! |
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| To Hygelac send, if Hild[4] should take me, |
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| best of war-weeds, warding my breast, |
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| armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel |
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| and work of Wayland.[5] Fares Wyrd[6] as she must." |
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