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| UNFERTH spake, the son of Ecglaf, |
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| who sat at the feet of the Scyldings' lord, |
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| unbound the battle-runes.[1]—Beowulf's quest, |
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| sturdy seafarer's, sorely galled him; |
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| ever he envied that other men |
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| should more achieve in middle-earth |
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| of fame under heaven than he himself.— |
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| "Art thou that Beowulf, Breca's rival, |
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| who emulous swam on the open sea, |
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| when for pride the pair of you proved the floods, |
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| and wantonly dared in waters deep |
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| to risk your lives? No living man, |
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| or lief or loath, from your labor dire |
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| could you dissuade, from swimming the main. |
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| Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered, |
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| with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured, |
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| swam o'er the waters. Winter's storm |
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| rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea |
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| a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee, |
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| had more of main! Him at morning-tide |
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| billows bore to the Battling Reamas, |
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| whence he hied to his home so dear |
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| beloved of his liegemen, to land of Brondings, |
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| fastness fair, where his folk he ruled, |
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| town and treasure. In triumph o'er thee |
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| Beanstan's bairn[2] his boast achieved. |
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| So ween I for thee a worse adventure |
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| —though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been, |
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| in struggle grim,—if Grendel's approach |
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| thou darst await through the watch of night!" |
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| Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:— |
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| "What a deal hast uttered, dear my Unferth, |
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| drunken with beer, of Breca now, |
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| told of his triumph! Truth I claim it, |
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| that I had more of might in the sea |
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| than any man else, more ocean-endurance. |
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| We twain had talked, in time of youth, |
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| and made our boast,—we were merely boys, |
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| striplings still,—to stake our lives |
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| far at sea: and so we performed it. |
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| Naked swords, as we swam along, |
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| we held in hand, with hope to guard us |
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| against the whales. Not a whit from me |
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| could he float afar o'er the flood of waves, |
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| haste o'er the billows; nor him I abandoned. |
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| Together we twain on the tides abode |
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| five nights full till the flood divided us, |
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| churning waves and chillest weather, |
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| darkling night, and the northern wind |
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| ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge. |
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| Now the wrath of the sea-fish rose apace; |
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| yet me 'gainst the monsters my mailed coat, |
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| hard and hand-linked, help afforded,— |
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| battle-sark braided my breast to ward, |
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| garnished with gold. There grasped me firm |
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| and haled me to bottom the hated foe, |
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| with grimmest gripe. 'Twas granted me, though, |
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| to pierce the monster with point of sword, |
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| with blade of battle: huge beast of the sea |
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| was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine. |
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