Beówulf Returns To Geatland.—The Queens Hygd And Thrytho
Cwom þâ tô flôde fela-môdigrahäg-stealdra heáp; hring-net bæron,locene leoðo-syrcan. Land-weard onfandeft-sîð eorla, swâ he ær dyde;nô he mid hearme of hliðes nosangästas grêtte, ac him tôgeánes râd;cwäð þät wilcuman Wedera leódumscawan scîr-hame tô scipe fôron.Þâ wäs on sande sæ-geáp nacahladen here-wædum, hringed-stefnamearum and mâðmum: mäst hlifadeofer Hrôðgâres hord-gestreónum.He þäm bât-wearde bunden goldeswurd gesealde, þät he syððan wäson meodu-bence mâðme þý weorðra,
Then that band of very brave young warriorscame down to the water; they wore ring-mail,locked limb-armor. The coast-guard noticedthe earls’ return, just as he had before;he did not greet those guests rudelyfrom the cliff’s headland,but rode down to meet them;said that those bright-armored men, bound for their ship,were welcome to the people of the Weders.Then on the sand the broad-hulled ship layloaded with war-gear, the ring-prowed vessel,with horses and treasure;the mast toweredover Hrothgar’s hoard-gifts. Beowulf gavethe boat-guard a sword bound with gold,
yrfe-lâfe. Gewât him on ýð-nacan,drêfan deóp wäter, Dena land ofgeaf.Þâ wäs be mäste mere-hrägla sum,segl sâle fäst. Sund-wudu þunede,nô þær wêg-flotan wind ofer ýðumsîðes getwæfde; sæ-genga fôr,fleát fâmig-heals forð ofer ýðe,bunden-stefna ofer brim-streámas,þät hie Geáta clifu ongitan meahton,cûðe nässas. Ceól up geþrang,lyft-geswenced on lande stôd.Hraðe wäs ät holme hýð-weard gearo,se þe ær lange tîd, leófra mannafûs, ät faroðe feor wlâtode;sælde tô sande sîd-fäðme scip
so that afterward he was the more honoredon the mead-bench for that treasure, that heirloom.He set out then in his wave-riding ship,to churn the deep water, left the land of the Danes.Then by the mast a sea-garment, a sail,was made fast with rope. The sea-wood groaned;the wind over the waves did not at all hinderthat wave-floater from its journey;the sea-goer moved,foamy-necked, floated on over the waves,the bound-prowed ship across the ocean-streams,until they could make out the cliffs of the Geats,the headlands they knew. The keel drove forward,pushed by the wind, ran up on the shore.Quickly the harbor-guard was ready at the water,
oncer-bendum fäst, þý läs hym ýða þrymwudu wynsuman forwrecan meahte.Hêt þâ up beran äðelinga gestreón,frätwe and fät-gold; näs him feor þanontô gesêcanne sinces bryttan:Higelâc Hrêðling þær ät hâm wunað,selfa mid gesîðum sæ-wealle neáh;bold wäs betlîc, brego-rôf cyning,heá on healle, Hygd swîðe geong,wîs, wel-þungen, þeáh þe wintra lytunder burh-locan gebiden häbbeHäreðes dôhtor: näs hió hnâh swâ þeáh,ne tô gneáð gifa Geáta leódum,mâðm-gestreóna. Mod Þryðo wäg,fremu folces cwên, firen ondrysne:
one who for a long time had gazed far out to sea,eager for his beloved men;he tied to the sandthat wide-bellied ship, fast on its anchor-ropes,lest the force of the waves should drive offthat welcome timber. He gave the order thento carry up the nobles’ treasure, the plateand the beaten gold; it was not far from thereto seek out the treasure-giver:Hygelac, son of Hrethel,lives there at home, himself and his companions,close by the sea-wall; the building was splendid,the king powerful in war, seated high in his hall,and Hygd very young, wise, accomplished,though she had spent few winters within those walls,
nænig þät dorste deór genêðanswæsra gesîða, nefne sin-freá,þät hire an däges eágum starede;ac him wäl-bende weotode tealde,hand-gewriðene: hraðe seoððan wäsäfter mund-gripe mêce geþinged,þät hit sceaðen-mæl scyran môste,cwealm-bealu cýðan. Ne bið swylc cwênlîc þeáwidese tô efnanne, þeáh þe hió ænlîcu sý,þätte freoðu-webbe feores onsäceäfter lîge-torne leófne mannan.Hûru þät onhôhsnode Heminges mæg;ealo drincende ôðer sædan,þät hió leód-bealewa läs gefremede,inwit-nîða, syððan ærest wearð
Haereth’s daughter: yet she was no less generous for that,nor too sparing with gifts to the Geatish people,with treasures from the hoard. Modthryth, that fierce queen,practiced a terrible cruelty: none of her own dear companionsdared so much as look at her by daylight,except her lord himself;whoever did could expectdeadly bonds twisted for him by hand; quickly after,once he was seized, a sword was called for,so that the patterned blade had to settle it,make his death-sentence known. That is no fitting customfor a lady to practice, however lovely she is —that a peace-weaver should take a beloved man’s lifeover some fancied insult. But Heming’s kinsmanput a stop to that. Ale-drinking men said further
gyfen gold-hroden geongum cempan,äðelum dióre, syððan hió Offan fletofer fealone flôd be fäder lâresîðe gesôhte, þær hió syððan welin gum-stôle, gôde mære,lîf-gesceafta lifigende breác,hióld heáh-lufan wið häleða brego,ealles mon-cynnes mîne gefrægeþone sêlestan bî sæm tweónumeormen-cynnes; forþam Offa wäsgeofum and gûðum gâr-cêne man,wîde geweorðod; wîsdôme heóldêðel sînne, þonon Eómær wôchäleðum tô helpe, Heminges mæg,nefa Gârmundes, nîða cräftig.
that she did the people far less harm,far fewer wicked deeds, once she was given,gold-adorned, to that young warrior of noble house,when by her father’s counsel she sought Offa’s hall,journeying over the pale flood; there afterward,on the throne, famed for her goodness, she made good useof her life while she lived, held a high lovewith the lord of warriors — of all mankind,so I have heard it told, the best between the two seas,of the whole race of men; for Offa was,in gifts and in war, a spear-bold man,honored far and wide; he ruled his homelandwith wisdom, and from him came Eomer,a help to warriors, Heming’s kinsman,grandson of Garmund, skilled in battle.