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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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62 They bore themselves too boldly, a folk estranged from God; For this the Lord made end-award by whelming under wave. So on the golden sword-guard, in many a runic stave, Was marked aright and set and said for whom was wrought of yore That best of steel with twine’d hilt, and etched with dragons o’er. Then spake wise Son of Halfdane-and still were all the throng: “Lo, one, like me, who’s warded a kingdom long and long, And for his folk still worketh the right and the sooth, One who remembers all of old, may say this thing indeed: That here’s a very jarlman born of better breed. Thy fame shall be uplifted, my beloved youth, Among all peoples, Beowulf, over the wide ways; And thou shalt hold thy prowess with wisdom all thy days; My troth to thee will I fulfill, e’en as we spake before. Thou’lt be unto thy people an aid forevermore, A help unto the heroes. Not so was Heremod Unto Ecgwela’s children, the Scylding-folk, the good. Nor waxed he to their pleasure, but unto every Dane Was he the dire undoing and the deadly bane. In wrath of heart he slew those who drank with him and ate And stood beside his shoulders, till he, the King so great, Lonely passed from cheer of men. Yet God advanced him And raised in power, in joys of strength, above all human kin. His hoard of thoughts in bosom, however, bloodier grew; He gave no rings to Danefolk, as kings are wont to do. Lorn of joy he bided, the work of strife he dreed, The long feud of his people. Learn from this thy rede; Know what is manly virtue. As one in winters gray, For thee I’ve told this story. A wonder ‘t is to say How mighty God on men bestows, in his forethought free, Wisdom, lands, and earlship. All things ruleth he: Whiles letteth he the heart-thought of man of noble birth In lustihead go faring, giveth joy of earth, Giveth in his native land a walled burg to keep, Granteth stretches of the world, realms so wide of sweep, That he himself the ends thereof may ween not in his thought. Dwelleth he in fatness; him thwarteth never aught Of either eld or sickness; nor any evil care Beclouds in murk his spirit; nor feuding anywhere, With sword and hatred, threatens. Unto his will and lot All the world is wending. The worse he knoweth not.... |
