The Hall Heorot
Þâ wäs on burgum Beówulf Scyldinga,leóf leód-cyning, longe þragefolcum gefræge (fäder ellor hwearf,aldor of earde), ôð þät him eft onwôcheáh Healfdene; heóld þenden lifde,gamol and gûð-reów, gläde Scyldingas.Þäm feówer bearn forð-gerîmedin worold wôcun, weoroda ræswan,Heorogâr and Hrôðgâr and Hâlga til;hýrde ic, þat Elan cwên Ongenþeówes wäsHeaðoscilfinges heals-gebedde.Þâ wäs Hrôðgâre here-spêd gyfen,wîges weorð-mynd, þät him his wine-mâgasgeorne hýrdon, ôð þät seó geogoð geweôx,mago-driht micel. Him on môd bearn,þät heal-reced hâtan wolde,
Beow of the Scyldings ruled then in the strongholds,a beloved king of the people, for a long timefamous among them (his father had gone elsewhere,the old lord out of the world) — until to him in turn was borngreat Healfdene; he ruled while he lived,old and fierce in battle, over the gracious Scyldings.Four children in a rowwoke into the world for him, leader of hosts:Heorogar and Hrothgar and Halga the good;I have heard that Elan was queen, wife of Ongentheow,the Swedish war-king’s bedmate.Then success in war was given to Hrothgar,honor in battle, so that his kinsmengladly obeyed him, until the young men grew up,a great band of retainers. It came into his mindthat he wanted to order a hall built,
medo-ärn micel men gewyrcean,þone yldo bearn æfre gefrunon,and þær on innan eall gedælangeongum and ealdum, swylc him god sealde,bûton folc-scare and feorum gumena.Þâ ic wîde gefrägn weorc gebannanmanigre mægðe geond þisne middan-geard,folc-stede frätwan. Him on fyrste gelompädre mid yldum, þät hit wearð eal gearo,heal-ärna mæst; scôp him Heort naman,se þe his wordes geweald wîde häfde.He beót ne âlêh, beágas dælde,sinc ät symle. Sele hlifadeheáh and horn-geáp: heaðo-wylma bâd,lâðan lîges; ne wäs hit lenge þâ genþät se ecg-hete âðum-swerian
a great mead-hall, larger than menhad ever heard of,and there inside to share out everythingto young and old, all that God had given him,except common land and men’s lives.Then I heard the work was commanded far and wide,to many peoples across this middle-earth,to adorn that dwelling-place. In time it happened,quickly among men, that it was all finished,the greatest of halls; he named it Heorot,he whose word carried power far and wide.He kept his promise, handed out rings,treasure at the feast. The hall rose up,high and wide-gabled — it would face war’s surges,hostile flame; though it was not long yetbefore sword-hatred, sworn between kinsmen by marriage,
äfter wäl-nîðe wäcnan scolde.Þâ se ellen-gæst earfoðlîceþrage geþolode, se þe in þýstrum bâd,þät he dôgora gehwâm dreám gehýrdehlûdne in healle; þær wäs hearpan swêg,swutol sang scôpes. Sägde se þe cûðefrum-sceaft fira feorran reccan,cwäð þät se älmihtiga eorðan worhte,wlite-beorhtne wang, swâ wäter bebûgeð,gesette sige-hrêðig sunnan and mônanleóman tô leóhte land-bûendum,and gefrätwade foldan sceátasleomum and leáfum; lîf eác gesceôpcynna gehwylcum, þâra þe cwice hwyrfað.Swâ þâ driht-guman dreámum lifdon
would wake after deadly feud.Then the fierce spirit endured hardshipfor a long while, he who waited in darkness,hearing joy, day after day,loud in the hall — there was the sound of the harp,the clear song of the poet. The one who knew howtold the origin of men from ancient times,said that the Almighty made the earth,a bright plain that the water encircles,set the sun and moon in triumphas lights to shine for the people of the land,and adorned the corners of the earthwith branches and leaves; he shaped life toofor every kind of thing that moves and lives.So those retainers lived in joy,
eádiglîce, ôð þät ân onganfyrene fremman, feónd on helle:wäs se grimma gäst Grendel hâten,mære mearc-stapa, se þe môras heóld,fen and fästen; fîfel-cynnes eardwon-sælig wer weardode hwîle,siððan him scyppend forscrifen häfde.In Caines cynne þone cwealm gewräc,êce drihten, þäs þe he Abel slôg;ne gefeah he þære fæhðe, ac he hine feor forwräc,metod for þý mâne man-cynne fram.Þanon untydras ealle onwôcon,eotenas and ylfe and orcnêas,swylce gigantas, þâ wið gode wunnonlange þrage; he him þäs leán forgeald.
happily, until one beganto commit crimes, a fiend out of hell:that grim spirit was called Grendel,the notorious walker of the borders, who held the moors,fen and stronghold; that land of monstersthe joyless man haunted for a time,after the Creator had condemned him.On Cain’s kin the eternal Lordavenged that killing, for he had slain Abel;he took no joy in that feud, but drove him far away,the Measurer, from mankind, for that crime.From him all monstrous broods awoke —ogres and elves and walking corpses,giants too, who fought against Godfor a long time; he paid them back for that.