The Soldier'S Dirge And Prophecy
Hêht þâ þät heaðo-weorc tô hagan biódanup ofer êg-clif, þær þät eorl-weorodmorgen-longne däg môd-giômor sät,bord-häbbende, bega on wênumende-dôgores and eft-cymesleófes monnes. Lyt swîgodeniwra spella, se þe näs gerâd,ac he sôðlîce sägde ofer ealle;"Nu is wil-geofa Wedra leóda,"dryhten Geáta deáð-bedde fäst,"wunað wäl-reste wyrmes dædum;"him on efn ligeð ealdor-gewinna,"siex-bennum seóc: sweorde ne meahte"on þam aglæcean ænige þinga
Then he ordered that the battle’s outcomebe announced at the camp, up over the sea-cliff,where the troop of earls had sat all morning,sick at heart, expecting both things —the end of his days, or his coming back,their beloved lord. He who rode to the headlanddid not stay silent long about the news,but told everyone the truth: “Now the giver of wishesto the Weder people, the lord of the Geats,is fastened to his death-bed, lies in that slaughter-restthrough the dragon’s deeds;beside him lieshis mortal enemy, sick from knife-wounds —with his sword he could not, by any means,
"wunde gewyrcean. Wîglâf siteð"ofer Biówulfe, byre Wihstânes,"eorl ofer ôðrum unlifigendum,"healdeð hige-mêðum heáfod-wearde"leófes and lâðes. Nu ys leódum wên"orleg-hwîle, syððan underne"Froncum and Frysum fyll cyninges"wîde weorðeð. Wäs sió wrôht scepen"heard wið Hûgas, syððan Higelâc cwom"faran flot-herge on Fresna land,"þær hyne Hetware hilde gehnægdon,"elne geeodon mid ofer-mägene,"þät se byrn-wîga bûgan sceolde,"feóll on fêðan: nalles frätwe geaf
inflict any wound at all on that monster.Wiglaf sits over Beowulf, son of Weohstan,one earl over the other, lifeless now;he keeps, weary at heart, a head-watchover the beloved and the hated both.Now the people can expect a time of war,once the king’s death becomes widely knownto the Franks and the Frisians. That hostility was forged hardagainst the Hugas, once Hygelac came sailingwith his fleet into Frisian lands,where the Hetware defeated him in battle,brought it about, with greater strength,that the mail-clad warrior had to fall,sank amid his troop; he gave no treasure then
"ealdor dugoðe; ûs wäs â syððan"Merewioinga milts ungyfeðe."Ne ic tô Sweó-þeóde sibbe oððe treówe"wihte ne wêne; ac wäs wîde cûð,"þätte Ongenþió ealdre besnyðede"Hæðcyn Hrêðling wið Hrefna-wudu,"þâ for on-mêdlan ærest gesôhton"Geáta leóde Gûð-scilfingas."Sôna him se frôda fäder Ôhtheres,"eald and eges-full ond-slyht âgeaf,"âbreót brim-wîsan, brýd âheórde,"gomela ió-meowlan golde berofene,"Onelan môdor and Ôhtheres,
to his followers; ever since,the Merovingian king’s mercy has been denied us.Nor do I expect any peace or good faith at allfrom the Swedish people;it was widely knownthat Ongentheow took the life of Haethcyn,son of Hrethel, near Ravenswood,when out of pride the Geatish peoplefirst attacked the War-Scylfings. Straightawaythe wise father of Ohthere, old and terrible,struck back, cut down the sea-king,rescued his wife, the aged woman,mother of Onela and mother of Ohthere,
"and þâ folgode feorh-genîðlan"ôð þät hî ôðeodon earfoðlîce"in Hrefnes-holt hlâford-leáse."Besät þâ sin-herge sweorda lâfe"wundum wêrge, weán oft gehêt"earmre teohhe andlonge niht:"cwäð he on mergenne mêces ecgum"getan wolde, sume on galg-treówum"fuglum tô gamene. Frôfor eft gelamp"sârig-môdum somod ær-däge,"syððan hie Hygelâces horn and býman"gealdor ongeâton. Þâ se gôda com"leóda dugoðe on lâst faran.
stripped of her gold, and then pursuedhis mortal enemies until they escaped,with great difficulty,lordless, into Ravenswood. Then he besieged,with a huge army, those left of the sword,weary with wounds; he promised harmthe whole night long to that wretched troop,said in the morning he would kill them with sword-edges,some on the gallows-tree, for the amusement of birds.Comfort came again to those sorrowful in spirit,at daybreak, once they heard Hygelac’s hornand trumpet sound, when the good man camefollowing on their trail with the flower of his troop.