Название | The Tale of Beowulf, Sometime King of the Folk of the Weder Geats |
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Автор произведения | Anonymous |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 4057664655936 |
Which, O refuge of warriors, gainsay me not now,
430
Since, O free friend of folks, from afar have I come,
That I alone, I and my band of the earls,
This hard heap of men, may cleanse Hart of ill.
This eke have I heard say, that he, the fell monster,
In his wan-heed recks nothing of weapons of war;
Forgo I this therefore (if so be that Hygelac
Will still be my man-lord, and he blithe of mood)
To bear the sword with me, or bear the broad shield,
Yellow-round to the battle; but with naught save the hand-grip
With the foe shall I grapple, and grope for the life
440
The loathly with loathly. There he shall believe
In the doom of the Lord whom death then shall take.
Now ween I that he, if he may wield matters,
E'en there in the war-hall the folk of the Geats
Shall eat up unafear'd, as oft he hath done it
With the might of the Hrethmen: no need for thee therefore
My head to be hiding; for me will he have
With gore all bestain'd, if the death of men get me;
He will bear off my bloody corpse minded to taste it;
Unmournfully then will the Lone-goer eat it,
450
Will blood-mark the moor-ways; for the meat of my body
Naught needest thou henceforth in any wise grieve thee.
But send thou to Hygelac, if the war have me,
The best of all war-shrouds that now my breast wardeth,
The goodliest of railings, the good gift of Hrethel,
The hand-work of Weland. Weird wends as she willeth.
VIII. HROTHGAR ANSWERETH BEOWULF AND BIDDETH HIM SIT TO THE FEAST.
Spake out then Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:
Thou Beowulf, friend mine, for battle that wardeth
And for help that is kindly hast sought to us hither.
Fought down thy father the most of all feuds;
460
To Heatholaf was he forsooth for a hand-bane
Amidst of the Wylfings. The folk of the Weders
Him for the war-dread that while might not hold.
So thence did he seek to the folk of the South-Danes
O'er the waves' wallow, to the Scyldings be-worshipped.
Then first was I wielding the weal of the Dane-folk,
That time was I holding in youth-tide the gem-rich
Hoard-burg of the heroes. Dead then was Heorogar,
Mine elder of brethren; unliving was he,
The Healfdene's bairn that was better than I.
470
That feud then thereafter with fee did I settle;
I sent to the Wylfing folk over the waters' back
Treasures of old time; he swore the oaths to me.
Sorrow is in my mind that needs must I say it
To any of grooms, of Grendel what hath he
Of shaming in Hart, and he with his hate-wiles
Of sudden harms framed; the host of my hall-floor,
The war-heap, is waned; Weird swept them away
Into horror of Grendel. It is God now that may lightly
The scather the doltish from deeds thrust aside.
480
Full oft have they boasted with beer well bedrunken,
My men of the battle all over the ale-stoup,
That they in the beer-hall would yet be abiding
The onset of Grendel with the terror of edges.
But then was this mead-hall in the tide of the morning,
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