The Jewel-Hoard. The Passing Of Beowulf
Þâ ic snûde gefrägn sunu Wihstânesäfter word-cwydum wundum dryhtnehýran heaðo-siócum, hring-net beran,brogdne beadu-sercean under beorges hrôf.Geseah þâ sige-hrêðig, þâ he bî sesse geóng,mago-þegn môdig mâððum-sigla fela,gold glitinian grunde getenge,wundur on wealle and þäs wyrmes denn,ealdes uht-flogan, orcas stondan,fyrn-manna fatu feormend-leáse,hyrstum behrorene: þær wäs helm monig,eald and ômig, earm-beága fela,searwum gesæled. Sinc eáðe mäg,gold on grunde, gumena cynnes
Then, I have heard, the son of Weohstan,quickly, after these words, obeyed his wounded lord,sick from battle, wore his ring-net,his woven battle-shirt, in under the barrow’s roof.Then, triumphant, as he passed by the seat,that brave young thane saw many treasures,gold glittering, lying on the ground,wonders on the wall, and the dragon’s den,that old dawn-flier’s;he saw cups standing there,vessels of men long gone, without a keeper,stripped of their ornaments; there was many a helmet,old and rusted, many arm-rings,skillfully twisted. Treasure can easily,
gehwone ofer-higian, hýde se þe wylle!Swylce he siomian geseah segn eall-gyldenheáh ofer horde, hond-wundra mæst,gelocen leoðo-cräftum: of þam leóma stôd,þät he þone grund-wong ongitan meahte,wräte giond-wlîtan. Näs þäs wyrmes þæronsýn ænig, ac hyne ecg fornam.Þâ ic on hlæwe gefrägn hord reáfian,eald enta geweorc ânne mannan,him on bearm hladan bunan and discassylfes dôme, segn eác genom,beácna beorhtost; bill ær-gescôd(ecg wäs îren) eald-hlâfordesþam þâra mâðma mund-bora wäs
gold in the ground, get the better of any manalive, hide it who will! Likewise he sawan all-golden banner hanging high over the hoard,the greatest of hand-wonders, woven with skill;a light shone from it, so that he could make outthe floor of the cavern, examine the treasures.There was no sign of the dragon there at all;a blade had taken him. Then, I have heard,one man plundered that hoard in the barrow,that ancient work of giants, loaded into his armscups and platters at his own discretion,took the banner too, brightest of beacons;a blade had already wounded —the edge was iron —
longe hwîle, lîg-egesan wäghâtne for horde, hioro-weallende,middel-nihtum, ôð þät he morðre swealt.Âr wäs on ôfoste eft-sîðes georn,frätwum gefyrðred: hyne fyrwet bräc,hwäðer collen-ferð cwicne gemêttein þam wong-stede Wedra þeóden,ellen-siócne, þær he hine ær forlêt.He þâ mid þâm mâðmum mærne þióden,dryhten sînne driórigne fandealdres ät ende: he hine eft ongonwäteres weorpan, ôð þät wordes ordbreóst-hord þurhbräc. Beówulf maðelode,gomel on giohðe (gold sceáwode):
that old guardian’s weapon, he who had long kept watchover those treasures, carried a terrifying fire,hot for the hoard, surging in battle,at midnight, until he died by violence.The messenger was in haste, eager for the way back,urged on by the treasures; curiosity gnawed at him,whether, bold in spirit, he would find the lord of the Wedersstill alive, in the place where he had left him,weakened by the fight. Then, with the treasures,he found the famous prince, his own lord,bleeding, at the end of his life; he began againto sprinkle him with water, until the point of his wordsbroke through his breast’s own hoard.Beowulf spoke —
"Ic þâra frätwa freán ealles þanc"wuldur-cyninge wordum secge,"êcum dryhtne, þe ic her on starie,"þäs þe ic môste mînum leódum"ær swylt-däge swylc gestrýnan."Nu ic on mâðma hord mîne bebohte"frôde feorh-lege, fremmað ge nu"leóda þearfe; ne mäg ic her leng wesan."Hâtað heaðo-mære hlæw gewyrcean,"beorhtne äfter bæle ät brimes nosan;"sê scel tô gemyndum mînum leódum"heáh hlifian on Hrones nässe,"þät hit sæ-lîðend syððan hâtan"Biówulfes biorh, þâ þe brentingas
the old man, in his grief, looked at the gold:“I speak my thanks, in words, to the Lord of all,to the King of glory, the eternal Ruler,for these treasures I look upon here,that I was allowed, before my death-day,to win such wealth for my people. Now that I have paidfor this hoard of treasures with my own old life,you all attend now to the people’s needs;I can stay here no longer. Command the battle-famous onesto build a burial mound, bright, after the funeral fire,on the sea’s headland; let it tower highon Whale’s Ness, as a memorial for my people,so that seafarers afterward will call itBeowulf’s Barrow, those who drive their ships
"ofer flôda genipu feorran drîfað."Dyde him of healse hring gyldenneþióden þrîst-hydig, þegne gesealde,geongum gâr-wigan, gold-fâhne helm,beáh and byrnan, hêt hyne brûcan well:"Þu eart ende-lâf ûsses cynnes,"Wægmundinga; ealle Wyrd forsweóf,"mîne mâgas tô metod-sceafte,"eorlas on elne: ic him äfter sceal."Þät wäs þam gomelan gingeste wordbreóst-gehygdum, ær he bæl cure,hâte heaðo-wylmas: him of hreðre gewâtsâwol sêcean sôð-fästra dôm.
from far off over the darkness of the floods.”The bold-minded prince took from his necka golden ring, gave it to his thane,to the young spear-warrior, and his gold-plated helmet,ring and mail-coat, bade him use them well:“You are the last remnant of our family,of the Waegmundings;fate has swept away all my kinsmen,earls in their courage, to their destined end;I must follow them.” That was the old man’s last wordfrom the thoughts of his heart, before he chose the funeral fire,the hot, surging flames; from his breast departedhis soul, to seek the glory of those who deal fairly.