Beówulf'S Speech
Stræt wäs stân-fâh, stîg wîsodegumum ätgädere. Gûð-byrne scânheard hond-locen, hring-îren scîrsong in searwum, þâ hie tô sele furðumin hyra gryre-geatwum gangan cwômon.Setton sæ-mêðe sîde scyldas,rondas regn-hearde wið þäs recedes weal,bugon þâ tô bence; byrnan hringdon,gûð-searo gumena; gâras stôdon,sæ-manna searo, samod ätgädere,äsc-holt ufan græg: wäs se îren-þreátwæpnum gewurðad. Þâ þær wlonc häleðoret-mecgas äfter äðelum frägn:
The street was paved with colored stone, the path guidedthe men together. Their war-mail shone,hard and hand-linked, the bright ring-ironsang in their gear, as they came marchingtoward the hall in their terrible war-dress.Sea-weary, they set their broad shields down,their battle-hard bucklers, against the building’s wall,and sat down on the bench; their mail-coats rang,the war-gear of men; the spears stood,the seamen’s weapons, gathered together,ash-shafts gray-tipped above: that armed companywas honored by its weapons. Then a proud warriorasked the champions about their lineage:
"Hwanon ferigeað ge fätte scyldas,"græge syrcan and grîm-helmas,"here-sceafta heáp?— Ic eom Hrôðgâres"âr and ombiht. Ne seah ic el-þeódige"þus manige men môdiglîcran."Wên' ic þät ge for wlenco, nalles for wräc-sîðum,"ac for hige-þrymmum Hrôðgâr sôhton."Him þâ ellen-rôf andswarode,wlanc Wedera leód word äfter spräc,heard under helme: "We synt Higelâces"beód-geneátas; Beówulf is mîn nama."Wille ic âsecgan suna Healfdenes,"mærum þeódne mîn ærende,
“From where do you carry those plated shields,gray mail-shirts and grim-visored helmets,that pile of war-spears? I am Hrothgar’sherald and officer. Never have I seenso many foreign men look so bold.I think it is for pride, not because you are exiles,but for greatness of heart that you have sought out Hrothgar.”The one famed for courage answered him,the proud lord of the Weders spoke back,hard beneath his helmet: “We are Hygelac’stable-companions; Beowulf is my name.I wish to tell my errand to the son of Healfdene,the famous prince,
"aldre þînum, gif he ûs geunnan wile,"þät we hine swâ gôdne grêtan môton."Wulfgâr maðelode (þät wäs Wendla leód,wäs his môd-sefa manegum gecýðed,wîg and wîs-dôm): "ic þäs wine Deniga,"freán Scildinga frinan wille,"beága bryttan, swâ þu bêna eart,"þeóden mærne ymb þînne sîð ;"and þe þâ andsware ädre gecýðan,"þe me se gôda âgifan þenceð."Hwearf þâ hrädlîce, þær Hrôðgâr sät,eald and unhâr mid his eorla gedriht;eode ellen-rôf, þät he for eaxlum gestôd
to your lord, if he will grant usthat we may greet him, good as he is.”Wulfgar spoke — he was a prince of the Wendels,his spirit known to many,his courage and his wisdom: “I will ask this of the friend of the Danes,the lord of the Scyldings, as you request,the famous ruler, about your journey,and bring you his answer quickly,whatever the good man decides to give.”He turned then swiftly to where Hrothgar sat,old and gray-haired, among his company of nobles;the famed one went until he stood at the shoulder
Deniga freán, cûðe he duguðe þeáw.Wulfgâr maðelode tô his wine-drihtne:"Her syndon geferede feorran cumene"ofer geofenes begang Geáta leóde:"þone yldestan oret-mecgas"Beówulf nemnað. Hy bênan synt,"þät hie, þeóden mîn, wið þe môton"wordum wrixlan; nô þu him wearne geteóh,"þînra gegn-cwida glädnian, Hrôðgâr!"Hy on wîg-geatwum wyrðe þinceað"eorla geæhtlan; hûru se aldor deáh,"se þæm heaðo-rincum hider wîsade."
of the Danish lord — he knew the custom of retainers.Wulfgar spoke to his friendly lord:“Here have come, brought from far off,over the sweep of the ocean, people of the Geats:the eldest of these warriorsthey call Beowulf. They are asking,my prince, that they might with youexchange words; do not refuse themyour answer, gracious Hrothgar!By their war-gear they seem worthyof an earl’s respect; surely their leader is strong,the one who led these battle-warriors here.”