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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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43 CHAPTER XVI The Scop chants how Hrothgar gave gifts also to all Beowulf’s fourteen companions, and then makes some pious remarks, as he often does in the course of his story. He then tells us that the Harper in the Hall sang a lay-which may be called “The Woe of Hildeburh.” He doesn’t give, as in the case of the story of Sigemund, merely the gist of it; but be seems to be repeating the Harper’s song word for word. It is quite a story by itself; and not very clear to us today-all about a feud between Danes and Frisians and Jutes, broken faith, battle in a Hall, vengeance, funeral pyres, and a sad-hearted Queen. Many wise men of today have striven to puzzle it out-and each thinks he has succeeded, but they don’t all agree, with one another and they despise one another grievously for their differences of opinion. Now, in the best interests of good- breeding and toleration for one another, I suggest that we don’t listen to “The Woe of Hildeburh” at all -lest we too fall to quarreling over its meaning. But do listen to the spirited ballad some other Scop majde on a part of the story, the fight at the doors of the Hall. Then, too, the Lord of jarlmen at mead-bench bestowed On each who had with Beowulf taken the ocean-road Some treasure, some heirloom, and bade with gold requite The death of him whom Grendel had foully slain that night As more of them he fain had slain, except that God, the good, And the man’s own courage, for them that wyrd withstood. The Judge then ruled all races even as he doth yet So best is always insight, and forethought of wit. How much of lief and loathly shall fall to each man’s life Who long makes earth his dwelling here in these days of strife! Now was there chant and music, together linked as one, Before the Army-Chieftain, Halfdane’s Son. The merry harp was fingered, the lay was lilted free, As Hrothgar’s bard by mead-bench sang in hall his glee. THE WOE OF HILDEBURH [The Hero of the Halfdanes, Hnaef of Scylding-folk, In the Frisian struggle fell by fatal stroke At the hands of sons of Finn when they in terror woke. Little cause had Hildeburh to praise the Jutemen’s troth: Blameless bereaved was she of her dear ones bothHer bairn and her brother, at the linden-play. Wounded by the lances, to doom dropped they. |
