Legends of the Middle Ages - Narrated with Special Reference to Literature and Art. H. A. Guerber

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       Beowulf will grapple with the mighty foe.’”

       Beowulf (Conybeare’s tr.).

      The warriors had no sooner stretched themselves out upon the benches in the hall than, overcome by the oppressive air as well as by mead, they sank into a profound sleep. Beowulf alone remained awake, watching for Grendel’s coming. In the early morning, when all was very still, the giant appeared, tore asunder the iron bolts and bars which secured the door, and striding into the hall, enveloped in a long, damp mantle of clammy mist, he pounced upon one of the sleepers. He tore him limb from limb, greedily drank his blood, and devoured his flesh, leaving naught but the head, hands, and feet of his unhappy victim. This ghastly repast only whetted the fiend’s ravenous appetite, however, so he eagerly stretched out his hands in the darkness to seize and devour another warrior. Imagine his surprise and dismay when he suddenly found his hand caught in so powerful a grasp that all his efforts could not wrench it free!

      Grendel and Beowulf struggled in the darkness, overturning tables and couches, shaking the great hall to its very foundations, and causing the walls to creak and groan under the violence of their furious blows. But in spite of Grendel’s gigantic stature, Beowulf clung so fast to the hand and arm he had grasped that Grendel, making a desperate effort to free himself by a jerk, tore the whole limb out of its socket! Bleeding and mortally wounded, he then beat a hasty retreat to his marshy den, leaving a long, bloody trail behind him.

      “Soon the dark wanderer’s ample shoulder bore

       A gaping wound, each starting sinew crack’d,

       And from its socket loosed the strong-knit joint.—

       The victory was with Beowulf, and the foe,

       Howling and sick at heart, fled as he might,

       To seek beneath the mountain shroud of mist

       His joyless home; for well he knew the day

       Of death was on him, and his doom was seal’d.”

       Beowulf (Conybeare’s tr.).

      As for Beowulf, exhausted but triumphant, he stood in the middle of the hall, where his companions crowded around him, gazing in speechless awe at the mighty hand and limb, and the clawlike fingers, far harder than steel, which no power had hitherto been able to resist.

      At dawn Hrothgar and his subjects also appeared. They heard with wonder a graphic account of the night’s adventures, and gazed their fill upon the monster’s limb, which hung like a trophy from the ceiling of Heorot. After the king had warmly congratulated Beowulf, and bestowed upon him many rich gifts, he gave orders to cleanse the hall, to hang it with tapestry, and to prepare a banquet in honor of the conquering hero.

      [Sidenote: Beowulf honored by the queen.] While the men were feasting, listening to the lays of the scalds, and carrying the usual toasts, Wealtheow, Hrothgar’s beautiful wife, the Queen of Denmark, appeared. She pledged Beowulf in a cup of wine, which he gallantly drained after she had touched it to her lips. Then she bestowed upon him a costly necklace (the famous Brisinga-men, according to some authorities)[1] and a ring of the finest gold. [Footnote 1: See Guerber’s Myths of Northern Lands, p. 127.]

      “’Wear these,’ she cried, ‘since thou hast in the fight

       So borne thyself, that wide as ocean rolls

       Round our wind-beaten cliffs his brimming waves,

       All gallant souls shall speak thy eulogy.’”

       Beowulf (Conybeare’s tr.).

      When the banquet was ended, Hrothgar escorted his guests to more pleasant sleeping apartments than they had occupied the night before, leaving his own men to guard the hall, where Grendel would never again appear. The warriors, fearing no danger, slept in peace; but in the dead of night the mother of the giant, as grewsome and uncanny a monster as he, glided into the hall, secured the bloody trophy still hanging from the ceiling, and carried it away, together with Aeschere (Askher), the king’s bosom friend.

      When Hrothgar learned this new loss at early dawn he was overcome with grief; and when Beowulf, attracted by the sound of weeping, appeared at his side, he mournfully told him of his irretrievable loss.

      “’Ask not after happiness;

       Sorrow is renewed

       To the Danes’ people.

       Aeschere is dead,

       Yrmenlaf’s

       Elder brother,

       The partaker of my secrets

       And my counselor,

       Who stood at my elbow

       When we in battle

       Our mail hoods defended,

       When troops rushed together

       And boar crests crashed.’”

       Beowulf (Metcalfe’s tr.).

      [Sidenote: Beowulf and Grendel’s mother.] The young hero immediately volunteered to finish his work and avenge Aeschere by seeking and attacking Grendel’s mother in her own retreat; but as he knew the perils of this expedition, Beowulf first gave explicit directions for the disposal of his personal property in case he never returned. Then, escorted by the Danes and Geates, he followed the bloody track until he came to a cliff overhanging the waters of the mountain pool. There the bloody traces ceased, but Aeschere’s gory head was placed aloft as a trophy.

      “Now paused they sudden where the pine grove clad

       The hoar rock’s brow, a dark and joyless shade.

       Troublous and blood-stain’d roll’d the stream below.

       Sorrow and dread were on the Scylding’s host,

       In each man’s breast deep working; for they saw

       On that rude cliff young Aeschere’s mangled head.”

       Beowulf (Conybeare’s tr.).

      Beowulf gazed down into the deep waters, saw that they also were darkly dyed with the monster’s blood, and, after taking leave of Hrothgar, bade his men await his return for two whole days and nights ere they definitely gave him up for lost. He then plunged bravely into the bloody waters, swam about seeking for the monster’s retreat, and dived deep. At last, descrying a phosphorescent gleam in the depths, he quickly made his way thither, shrewdly conjecturing that it must be Grendel’s hiding place. But on his way thither he was repeatedly obliged to have recourse to his sword to defend himself against the clutches of countless hideous sea monsters which came rushing toward him on all sides.

      “While thro’ crystal gulfs were gleaming

       Ocean depths, with wonders teeming;

       Shapes of terror, huge, unsightly,

       Loom’d thro’ vaulted roof translucent.”

       J.C. JONES, Valhalla.

      A strong current seized Beowulf, and swept him irresistibly along into the slimy retreat of Grendel’s СКАЧАТЬ