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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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99 He received the war-spoils, and fairly pledged the Youth A boon before the people-and kept his pledge in sooth. For the Lord of Geatmen, son of Hrethel’s name, Rewarded for that onset, when as home he came, Eofor and Wulf both with treasure manifold; To each of them he yielded, in measure of gold, Of land and interlinked rings a hundred thousand told. And no man in this Middle-Yard had cause that boon to blame, Seeing the two with strokes of swords had wuought such deeds of fame. And as a pledge of favor, to Eofor for bride He gave his only daughter, of his home the pride.] This is the feud and hating, the deadly strife of men, Wherewith, as I’m awaiting, the Swedes will seek us then, They, the battling Scylfings, for their heroes slain, As they shall learn the loss of him our Overlord, Him who once had guarded our Kingdom and the hoard, And furthered the folk-weal, and done a jarlman’s deed. Now is best that thither we hasten with speed To look upon our people’s Sire, and Beowulf to bring Onward to the funeral pyre, who gave us ring by ring. Nor shall a portion only melt with the man so bold, But there is a hoard of treasures, and there is countless gold, Purchased forsooth at a grim price,- circlet and sword and pelf, Bought us now at the latest with life of the King himself. These shall the fire devour, these shall the flame enfold; Never a jarl shall bear him a token dear of the King, No beautiful girl shall wear gem on neck in a noble ring; But each, of the gold bereaved, each in a mood of pain, Shall wander the lands of strangers, over and over again, Now that the Army-Leader hath lowered his laughter here, His mirth and the joy of his revel. For this shall many a spear, Iron-cold in the morning, be lifted up in the arm, Clasped in the clansman’s fingers; and never the harper’s charm Shall waken these of our warriors. Nay, but the raven wan, Fluttering over the fallen, shall utter his croak anon, Telling unto the eagle how he at his feasting sped, The while with the wolf together he tore away on the dead.” Thus it was the Warsman the loathly tidings said; Little was he lying in words or doom ahead. Together rose the band then, with tears of sorrow-stress, Blitheless they betook them under Eagles’ Ness, To gaze upon the wonder. They found o’er sandy shore Him who gave the rings to them in the times before Lifeless on his bed of rest. His ending-day had been Unto him, the dauntless, the Prince of Weder-kin, Unto him, the Warrior-King, a death of wondrous dying. |
