Beowulf
IV. Hygelac’s Thane

While the grief-stricken Hrothgar brooded over his wrongs, the news of Grendel's ravages reached the court of Hygelac, king of the Geats, and from there, the ears of Beowulf, a highborn thane (and the hero of the poem). He was man both noble and strong, and hearing of Hrothgar’s sorrow, decided at once to go to his aid. He ordered a ship to be made ready, and with fourteen carefully chosen companions, he set out. They sailed swiftly over the swan-path to the great headlands and bright sea-cliffs of the Scyldings, and on the second day, reached Hrothgar’s dominions. dings. High upon the cliffs stood Hrothgar’s guard. "Who are you?" he cried. Struck by Beowulf’s heroic appearance, he declared, "You know no password, but unless looks are deceiving, you are not enemies and come with no evil purpose in mine. So tell me quickly, who are you?"

The passage below tells of Beowulf’s journey across the sea and the greeting by Hrothgar’s coast guard as he and his men land upon the shore of Hrothgar’s kingdom.

 

Beowulf
Anonymous

IV. Hygelac’s Thane

Swâ þâ mæl-ceare      maga Healfdenes
singala seáð;      ne mihte snotor häleð
weán onwendan:      wäs þät gewin tô swýð,
lâð and longsum,      þe on þâ leóde becom,
nýd-wracu nîð-grim,      niht-bealwa mæst.
Þät fram hâm gefrägn      Higelâces þegn,
gôd mid Geátum,      Grendles dæda:
se wäs mon-cynnes      mägenes strengest
on þäm däge      þysses lîfes,
äðele and eácen.      Hêt him ýð-lidan
gôdne gegyrwan;      cwäð he gûð-cyning
ofer swan-râde      sêcean wolde,
mærne þeóden,      þâ him wäs manna þearf.
Þone sîð-fät him      snotere ceorlas
lyt-hwôn lôgon,      þeáh he him leóf wære;
hwetton higerôfne,      hæl sceáwedon.
Häfde se gôda      Geáta leóda
cempan gecorone,      þâra þe he cênoste
findan mihte;      fîftena sum
sund-wudu sôhte;      secg wîsade,
lagu-cräftig mon,      land-gemyrcu.
Fyrst forð gewât:      flota wäs on ýðum,
bât under beorge.      Beornas gearwe
on stefn stigon;      streámas wundon
sund wið sande;      secgas bæron
on bearm nacan      beorhte frätwe,
gûð-searo geatolîc;      guman ût scufon,
weras on wil-sîð      wudu bundenne.
Gewât þâ ofer wæg-holm      winde gefýsed
flota fâmig-heals      fugle gelîcost,
ôð þät ymb ân-tîd      ôðres dôgores
wunden-stefna      gewaden häfde,
þät þâ lîðende      land gesâwon,
brim-clifu blîcan,      beorgas steápe,
sîde sæ-nässas:      þâ wäs sund liden,
eoletes ät ende.      Þanon up hraðe
Wedera leóde      on wang stigon,
sæ-wudu sældon      (syrcan hrysedon,
gûð-gewædo);      gode þancedon,
þäs þe him ýð-lâde      eáðe wurdon.
Þâ of wealle geseah      weard Scildinga,
se þe holm-clifu      healdan scolde,
beran ofer bolcan      beorhte randas,
fyrd-searu fûslîcu;      hine fyrwyt bräc
môd-gehygdum,      hwät þâ men wæron.
Gewât him þâ tô waroðe      wicge rîdan
þegn Hrôðgâres,      þrymmum cwehte
mägen-wudu mundum,      meðel-wordum frägn:
"Hwät syndon ge      searo-häbbendra
"byrnum werede,      þe þus brontne ceól
"ofer lagu-stræte      lædan cwômon,
"hider ofer holmas      helmas bæron?
"Ic wäs ende-sæta,      æg-wearde heóld,
"þät on land Dena      lâðra nænig
"mid scip-herge      sceððan ne meahte.
"Nô her cûðlîcor      cuman ongunnon
"lind-häbbende;      ne ge leáfnes-word
"gûð-fremmendra      gearwe ne wisson,
"mâga gemêdu.      Næfre ic mâran geseah
"eorla ofer eorðan,      þonne is eówer sum,
"secg on searwum;      nis þät seld-guma
"wæpnum geweorðad,      näfne him his wlite leóge,
"ænlîc an-sýn.      Nu ic eówer sceal
"frum-cyn witan,      ær ge fyr heonan
"leáse sceáweras      on land Dena
"furður fêran.      Nu ge feor-bûend,
"mere-lîðende,      mînne gehýrað
"ân-fealdne geþôht:      ôfost is sêlest
"tô gecýðanne,      hwanan eówre cyme syndon."

Translation
IV.
HYGELAC’S THANE

IV.
Translation: Francis B. Gummere (1910)

THUS seethed unceasing the son of Healfdene
with the woe of these days; not wisest men
assuaged his sorrow; too sore the anguish,
loathly and long, that lay on his folk, most baneful of burdens and bales of the night.

This heard in his home Hygelac's thane,
great among Geats, of Grendel's doings.
He was the mightiest man of valor
in that same day of this our life,
stalwart and stately. A stout wave-walker
he bade make ready. Yon battle-king, said he,
far o'er the swan-road he fain would seek,
the noble monarch who needed men!
The prince's journey by prudent folk
was little blamed, though they loved him dear;
they whetted the hero, and hailed good omens.
And now the bold one from bands of Geats
comrades chose, the keenest of warriors
e'er he could find; with fourteen men
the sea-wood he sought, and, sailor proved,
led them on to the land's confines.
Time had now flown; afloat was the ship,
boat under bluff. On board they climbed,
warriors ready; waves were churning
sea with sand; the sailors bore
on the breast of the bark their bright array,
their mail and weapons: the men pushed off,
on its willing way, the well-braced craft.
Then moved o'er the waters by might of the wind
that bark like a bird with breast of foam,
till in season due, on the second day,
the curved prow such course had run
that sailors now could see the land,
sea-cliffs shining, steep high hills, headlands broad. Their haven was found,
their journey ended. Up then quickly
the Weders' clansmen climbed ashore,
anchored their sea-wood, with armor clashing
and gear of battle: God they thanked
or passing in peace o'er the paths of the sea.
Now saw from the cliff a Scylding clansman,
a warden that watched the water-side,
how they bore o'er the gangway glittering shields,
war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him
to know what manner of men they were.
Straight to the strand his steed he rode,
Hrothgar's henchman; with hand of might
he shook his spear, and spake in parley.
"Who are ye, then, ye armed men,
mailed folk, that yon mighty vessel
have urged thus over the ocean ways,
here o'er the waters? A warden I,
sentinel set o'er the sea-march here,
lest any foe to the folk of Danes
with harrying fleet should harm the land.
No aliens ever at ease thus bore them,
linden-wielders: yet word-of-leave
clearly ye lack from clansmen here,
my folk's agreement. -- A greater ne'er saw I
of warriors in world than is one of you, yon hero in harness! No henchman he
worthied by weapons, if witness his features,
his peerless presence! I pray you, though, tell
your folk and home, lest hence ye fare
suspect to wander your way as spies
in Danish land. Now, dwellers afar,
ocean-travellers, take from me
simple advice: the sooner the better
I hear of the country whence ye came."

 

IV.
Translation: JL Hall
(1892)

So Healfdene’s kinsman constantly mused on
His long-lasting sorrow; the battle-thane clever
Was not anywise able evils to ’scape from:
Too crushing the sorrow that came to the people,
Loathsome and lasting the life-grinding torture,
Greatest of night-woes. So Higelac’s liegeman,
Good amid Geatmen, of Grendel’s achievements
Heard in his home: of heroes then living
He was stoutest and strongest, sturdy and noble.
He bade them prepare him a bark that was trusty;
He said he the war-king would seek o’er the ocean,
The folk-leader noble, since he needed retainers.
For the perilous project prudent companions
Chided him little, though loving him dearly;
They egged the brave atheling, augured him glory.
The excellent knight from the folk of the Geatmen
Had liegemen selected, likest to prove them
Trustworthy warriors; with fourteen companions
The vessel he looked for; a liegeman then showed them,
A sea-crafty man, the bounds of the country.
Fast the days fleeted; the float was a-water,
The craft by the cliff. Clomb to the prow then
Well-equipped warriors: the wave-currents twisted
The sea on the sand; soldiers then carried
On the breast of the vessel bright-shining jewels,
Handsome war-armor; heroes outshoved then,
Warmen the wood-ship, on its wished-for adventure.
The foamy-necked floater fanned by the breeze,
Likest a bird, glided the waters,
Till twenty and four hours thereafter
The twist-stemmed vessel had traveled such distance
That the sailing-men saw the sloping embankments,
The sea cliffs gleaming, precipitous mountains,
Nesses enormous: they were nearing the limits
At the end of the ocean. Up thence quickly
The men of the Weders clomb to the mainland,
Fastened their vessel (battle weeds rattled,
War burnies clattered), the Wielder they thanked
That the ways o’er the waters had waxen so gentle.
Then well from the cliff edge the guard of the Scyldings
Who the sea-cliffs should see to, saw o’er the gangway
Brave ones bearing beauteous targets,
Armor all ready, anxiously thought he,
Musing and wondering what men were approaching.
High on his horse then Hrothgar’s retainer
Turned him to coastward, mightily brandished
His lance in his hands, questioned with boldness.
“Who are ye men here, mail-covered warriors
Clad in your corslets, come thus a-driving
A high riding ship o’er the shoals of the waters
And hither ’neath helmets have hied o’er the ocean?
I have been strand-guard, standing as warden,
Lest enemies ever anywise ravage
Danish dominions with army of war-ships.
More boldly never have warriors ventured
Hither to come; of kinsmen’s approval,
Word-leave of warriors, I ween that ye surely
Nothing have known. Never a greater one
Of earls o’er the earth have I had a sight of
Than is one of your number, a hero in armor;
No low-ranking fellow adorned with his weapons,
But launching them little, unless looks are deceiving,
And striking appearance. Ere ye pass on your journey
As treacherous spies to the land of the Scyldings
And farther fare, I fully must know now
What race ye belong to. Ye far-away dwellers,
Sea-faring sailors, my simple opinion
Hear ye and hearken: haste is most fitting
Plainly to tell me what place ye are come
from.”

 

The original Old English passage is taken from Beowulf (1883), as edited by James Harrison and Robert Sharp. This work is in the public domain.

The translations, by Francis Gummere (1910) and JL Hall (1892), are also in the public domain.