Beowulf Resolves To Kill The Fire-Drake
Þâ se gäst ongan glêdum spîwan,beorht hofu bärnan; bryne-leóma stôdeldum on andan; nô þær âht cwiceslâð lyft-floga læfan wolde.Wäs þäs wyrmes wîg wîde gesýne,nearo-fâges nîð neán and feorran,hû se gûð-sceaða Geáta leódehatode and hýnde: hord eft gesceát,dryht-sele dyrnne ær däges hwîle.Häfde land-wara lîge befangen,bæle and bronde; beorges getrûwode,wîges and wealles: him seó wên geleáh.Þâ wäs Biówulfe brôga gecýðedsnûde tô sôðe, þät his sylfes himbolda sêlest bryne-wylmum mealt,gif-stôl Geáta. Þät þam gôdan wäs
The stranger began to spew flames,to burn the bright dwellings; the fire-glow stood there,a terror to men; that hateful sky-flierwanted to leave nothing alive there.The dragon’s war-makingwas widely seen, that narrow-minded creature’s malice,near and far, how that war-ravagerhated and humbled the Geatish people;he shot back to the hoard, to his secret, splendid hall,before daybreak. He had wrapped the land-dwellersin flame, in fire and burning;he trusted in his barrow,in his war-craft and his walls; that hope betrayed him.Then the terror was made known to Beowulf,quickly, in truth, that his own home,the best of buildings, the Geats’ own gift-seat,
hreów on hreðre, hyge-sorga mæst:wênde se wîsa, þät he wealdende,ofer ealde riht, êcean dryhtnebitre gebulge: breóst innan weóllþeóstrum geþoncum, swâ him geþýwe ne wäs.Häfde lîg-draca leóda fästen,eá-lond ûtan, eorð-weard þoneglêdum forgrunden. Him þäs gûð-cyning,Wedera þióden, wräce leornode.Hêht him þâ gewyrcean wîgendra hleóeall-îrenne, eorla dryhtenwîg-bord wrätlîc; wisse he gearwe,þät him holt-wudu helpan ne meahte,lind wið lîge. Sceolde læn-dagaäðeling ær-gôd ende gebîdanworulde lîfes and se wyrm somod;
had melted away in surging flame. That was anguish of heartto the good man,the greatest of sorrows;the wise one thought that he had bitterly angeredthe Ruler, the eternal Lord, against ancient law;his breast welled up within him with dark thoughts,which was not his usual way. The fire-dragonhad burned the people’s stronghold to ashes,that island-fastness, the earthwork outside it, with flame.For that the war-king, prince of the Weders,began planning his revenge. Then the protector of warriors,lord of earls, ordered a war-shield made for him,entirely of iron, a wondrous battle-board;he knew well enough that forest-wood could not help him,linden against flame. That excellent old princehad to face the end of his loaned days,
þeáh þe hord-welan heólde lange.Oferhogode þâ hringa fengel,þät he þone wîd-flogan weorode gesôhte,sîdan herge; nô he him þâ säcce ondrêd,ne him þäs wyrmes wîg for wiht dyde,eafoð and ellen; forþon he ær felanearo nêðende nîða gedîgde,hilde-hlemma, syððan he Hrôðgâres,sigor-eádig secg, sele fælsodeand ät gûðe forgrâp Grendeles mægum,lâðan cynnes. Nô þät läsest wäshond-gemota, þær mon Hygelâc slôh,syððan Geáta cyning gûðe ræsum,freá-wine folces Freslondum on,Hrêðles eafora hioro-dryncum swealt,bille gebeáten; þonan Biówulf com
of this world’s life, and the dragon along with him,though he had held the hoard-wealth long.Then the ring-prince scorned to seek out the wide-flierwith a troop, with a great army;he did not fear the fight at all,nor did he think much of the dragon’s war-craft,his strength and courage; for he had already survivedmany dangers, ventured into narrow places,battle-crashes, since he had, blessed with victory,cleansed Hrothgar’s hall, and in battle crushedGrendel’s kin, that hateful race. That was not the leastof hand-to-hand fights, when Hygelac was slain,when the king of the Geats, in the rush of battle,the people’s own friendly lord,in the land of the Frisians,Hrethel’s son, died by the sword’s drink,
sylfes cräfte, sund-nytte dreáh;† häfde him on earme ... XXXhilde-geatwa, þâ he tô holme stâg.Nealles Hetware hrêmge þorftonfêðe-wîges, þe him foran ongeánlinde bæron: lyt eft becwomfram þam hild-frecan hâmes niósan.Oferswam þâ sióleða bigong sunu Ecgþeówes,earm ân-haga eft tô leódum,þær him Hygd gebeád hord and rîce,beágas and brego-stôl: bearne ne trûwode,þät he wið äl-fylcum êðel-stôlashealdan cûðe, þâ wäs Hygelâc deád.Nô þý ær feá-sceafte findan meahtonät þam äðelinge ænige þinga,þät he Heardrêde hlâford wære,
struck down by the blade; from there Beowulf got awayby his own strength, made use of his swimming;he had on his arm, alone, thirty setsof battle-gear, when he took to the sea.The Hetware had no cause to boast of that foot-fight,those who bore linden shields against him:few came back from that battle-hardened manto seek their homes again. Then Ecgtheow’s sonswam back across the wide sea, wretched and alone,to his own people, where Hygd offered himthe hoard and the kingdom,rings and the royal seat;she did not trust that her own son could holdthe ancestral throne against foreign armies,now that Hygelac was dead. Yet the grieving peoplecould not, for anything, persuade that nobleman
oððe þone cyne-dôm ciósan wolde;hwäðre he him on folce freónd-lârum heóld,êstum mid âre, ôð þät he yldra wearð,Weder-Geátum weóld. Hyne wräc-mäcgasofer sæ sôhtan, suna Ôhteres:häfdon hy forhealden helm Scylfinga,þone sêlestan sæ-cyninga,þâra þe in Swió-rîce sinc brytnade,mærne þeóden. Him þät tô mearce wearð;he þær orfeorme feorh-wunde hleátsweordes swengum, sunu Hygelâces;and him eft gewât Ongenþiówes bearnhâmes niósan, syððan Heardrêd läg;lêt þone brego-stôl Biówulf healdan,Geátum wealdan: þät wäs gôd cyning.
to become lord over Heardred, or choose to be king;even so, he supported him among the peoplewith friendly counsel, kindly, with honor,until he grew older, and ruled the Weder-Geats.Exiles sought him out over the sea,the sons of Ohthere; they had rebelledagainst the protector of the Scylfings,the best of sea-kings,of those who dealt out treasure in Sweden, a famous prince.That became Heardred’s limit; he took therea mortal wound from a sword’s blow,the son of Hygelac; and then Ongentheow’s sonwent back home again, once Heardred lay dead,let Beowulf hold the royal seat,rule the Geats: that was a good king.