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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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96 CHAPTER XL The Scop chants how Wiglaf a Herald (who must have been one of the ten coward-companions) to report the issue of the fight to the little army of Beowulf which was waiting, perhaps a few miles away. (One remembers Beowulf had refused to let them come with him, for he had said he wished to face the danger alone with only eleven men.) The Herald told them all. He had little joy over the dead Monster, for thinking of the wars that would come to the Geats, when their old enemies, the Frisians and the Swedes, should hear about him, the Folk Defender, whom the Dragon had slain. And the Herald retold to the warriors (who surely must have known as much about it as he!) the story of the old wars with these tribes. (The Scop has touched on these stories a good many times, when we grew confused or did not listen, and when we wished he would keep to the story of Beowulf at Heorot or Beowulf at the Dragon’s Lair. But those for whom the Scop composed and recited the poem were doubtless stirred by these traditions of bygone battles of their kindred and felt that they were not out of harmony in spirit and action with Beouwlf’s own adventures.) Then Wiglaf bade a Herald the war-work to declare Yonder at the fastness o’er the sea-cliff there, Where the band of shieldmen had sat in brooding pain All the long morning, between doubts twain: The end of their beloved, or... his coming-home again. Of these new tidings the Rider to the ness Was silent touching little; nay, in soothfastness He told out the story in ears of all the band: “Now is he, Joy-Giver of the Weder-land, The Sovran of the Geatmen, on the couch-of-death, He woneth on the slaughter-bed, from Dragon’s tooth and breath. Is lying there beside him the Queller of the Good, Sick with thrusts of dagger; for with the sword he could Work no wound soever, upon the Monster’s hide. Wiglaf is sitting, Beowulf beside, Weohstan’s youngling, the quick beside the dead. Holdeth he with heart’s woe a watch at his head, O’er loved Lord and loathed Drake. Now our folk may wait Anew a while of warfare when our Prince’s fate Unto Franks and Frisians shall be widely told. Started was this quarrel grievously of old, When Hygelac to Frisian land afaring came with fleet. |
