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7 Hrothgar spoke, protector of the Scyldings: “For past favors, my friend Beowulf, and for old deeds, you have sought us out. Your father struck up the greatest of feuds, 460 when he killed Heatholaf by his own hand among the Wylfings. When the Weder tribe would not harbor him for fear of war, thence he sought the South-Dane people over the billowing seas, the Honor-Scyldings; 465 then I first ruled the Danish folk and held in my youth this grand kingdom, city of treasure and heroes—then Heorogar was dead, my older brother unliving, Healfdene’s firstborn—he was better than I! 470 Later I settled that feud with fee-money; I sent to the Wylfings over the crest of the waves ancient treasures; he swore oaths to me.3 It is a sorrow to my very soul to say to any man what Grendel has done to me— 475 humiliated Heorot with his hateful thoughts, his sudden attacks. My hall-troop, my warriors, are decimated; wyrd has swept them away into Grendel’s terror. God might easily put an end to the deeds of this mad enemy! 480 Often men have boasted, drunk with beer, officers over their cups of ale, that they would abide in the beerhall Grendel’s attack with a rush of sword-terror. Then in the morning this meadhall, 485 lordly dwelling, was drenched with blood, when daylight gleamed, the benches gory the hall spattered and befouled; I had fewer dear warriors when death took them away. Now sit down at my feast, drink mead in my hall,4 490 men’s reward of victory, as your mood urges.” Then a bench was cleared in the beerhall for the men of the Geats all together; the strong-minded men went to sit down, proud in their strength. A thane did his service, 495 bore in his hands the gold-bright ale-cup, poured the clear sweet drink. The scop sang brightly in Heorot—there was the joy of heroes, no small gathering of Danes and Geats. 8 Unferth5 spoke, son of Ecglaf, 500 who sat at the feet of the Scylding lord, unbound his battle-runes6 —Beowulf’s journey, that brave seafarer, sorely vexed him, for he did not wish that any other man on this middle-earth should care for glory 505 under the heavens, more than he himself: “Are you the Beowulf who strove with Breca in a swimming contest on the open sea, where in your pride you tried the waves and for a foolish boast risked your life 510 in the deep water? No man, whether friend or foe, could dissuade you two from that sad venture, when you swam in the sea; there you seized in your arms the ocean-streams, measured the sea-ways, flailed your hands 515 and glided over the waves—the water roiled, wintry surges. In the keeping of the water you toiled for seven nights, and he outswam you, and had more strength. Then in the morning the swells bore him to the Heathoream shore; 520 from thence he sought his own sweet land, beloved by his people, the land of the Brondings, the fair fortress, where he had his folk, his castle and treasure. He truly fulfilled, the son of Beanstan, his boast against you. 525 So I expect a worse outcome from you— though you may have survived the storm of battle, some grim combats—if for Grendel you dare to lie in wait the whole night long.” Beowulf spoke, son of Ecgtheow: 530 “What a great deal, Unferth my friend, drunk with beer, you have said about Breca, told his adventures! I will tell the truth— I had greater strength on the sea, more ordeals on the waves than any other man. 535 When we were just boys we two agreed and boasted—we were both still in our youth—that out on the great ocean we would risk our lives, and we did just that. We had bare swords, when we swam in the sea, 540 hard in our hands; we thought to protect ourselves from whales. Not for anything could he swim far from me on the sea-waves, more swiftly on the water, nor would I go from him. We two were together on the sea 545 for five nights, until the flood drove us apart, surging waves, coldest of weathers, darkening night, and a northern wind, knife-sharp, pushed against us. The seas were choppy; the fishes of the sea were stirred up by it. 550 There my coat of armor offered help, hard, hand-locked, against those hostile ones, my woven battle-dress lay on my breast adorned with gold. Down to the ocean floor a grisly foe dragged me, gripped me fast 555 in his grim grasp, yet it was given to me to stab that monster with the point of my sword, my war-blade; the storm of battle took away that mighty sea-beast, through my own hand. 9 “Time and again those terrible enemies 560 sorely threatened me. I served them well with my dear sword, as they deserved. They got no joy from their gluttony, those wicked maneaters, when they tasted me, sat down to their feast on the ocean floor— 565 but in the morning, wounded by my blade, they were washed ashore by the ocean waves, dazed by sword-blows, and since that day they never hindered the passage of any sea-voyager. Light shone from the east, 570 God’s bright beacon; the waves grew calm, so that I could see the sea-cliffs, the windswept capes. Wyrd often spares an undoomed man, when his courage endures! And so it came about that I was able to kill 575 nine of these sea-monsters. I have never heard of a harder night-battle under heaven’s vault, nor a more wretched man on the water’s stream; yet I escaped alive from the clutches of my enemies, weary from my journey. Then the sea washed me up, 580 the currents of the flood, in the land of the Finns, the welling waters. I have never heard a word about any such contest concerning you, such sword-panic. In the play of battle Breca has never—nor you either— 585 done a deed so bold and daring with his decorated blade—I would never boast of it!— though you became your brothers’ killer, your next of kin; for that you needs must suffer punishment in Hell, no matter how clever you are.1 590 I will say it truly, son of Ecglaf, that never would Grendel have worked such terror, that gruesome beast, against your lord, or shames in Heorot, if your courage and spirit were as fierce as you yourself fancy they are; 595 but he has found that he need fear no feud, no storm of swords from the Victory-Scyldings, no resistance at all from your nation; he takes his toll, spares no one in the Danish nation, but indulges himself, 600 hacks and butchers and expects no battle from the Spear-Danes. But I will show him soon enough the strength and courage of the Geats in war. Afterwards, let him who will go bravely to mead, when the morning light 605 of a new day, the sun clothed in glory shines from the south on the sons of men!” Then the giver of treasure was greatly pleased, gray-haired and battle-bold; the Bright-Danes’ chief had faith in his helper; that shepherd of his folk 610 recognized Beowulf’s firm resolution. There was man’s laughter, lovely sounds and winsome words. Wealhtheow went forth, Hrothgar’s queen, mindful of customs; adorned with gold, she greeted the men in the hall, 615 then that courteous wife offered the full cup first to the guardian of the East-Danes’ kingdom, bid him be merry at his beer-drinking, beloved by his people; with pleasure he received the feast and cup, victorious king. 620 The lady of the Helmings then went about to young and old, gave each his portion of the precious cup, until the moment came when the ring-adorned queen, of excellent heart, bore the mead-cup to Beowulf; 625 she greeted the Geatish prince, thanked God with wise words that her wish had come to pass, that she could rely on any earl for relief from those crimes. He took the cup, the fierce warrior, from Wealhtheow, 630 and then eager for battle he made his announcement. Beowulf spoke, son of Ecgtheow: “I resolved when I set out over the waves, sat down in my ship with my troop of soldiers, that I would entirely fulfill the wishes 635 of your people, or fall slain, fast in the grip of my foe. I shall perform a deed of manly courage, or in this meadhall I will await the end of my days!” These words well pleased that woman, 640 the boasting of the Geat; she went, the gold-adorned and courteous folk-queen, to sit beside her lord. Then, as before, there in that hall were strong words spoken, the people happy, the sounds of a victorious nation, until shortly 645 the son of Healfdene wished to seek his evening rest; he knew that the wretched beast had been planning to do battle in the high building from the time they could first see the sunrise until night fell darkening over all, 650 and creatures of shadow came creeping about pale under the clouds. The company arose. One warrior greeted another there, Hrothgar to Beowulf, and wished him luck, gave him control of the wine-hall in these words: 655 “I have never entrusted to any man, ever since I could hold and hoist a shield, the great hall of the Danes—except to you now. Have it and hold it, protect this best of houses, be mindful of glory, show your mighty valor, 660 watch for your enemies! You will have all you desire, if you emerge from this brave undertaking alive.” 10 Then Hrothgar and his troop of heroes, protector of the Scyldings, departed from the hall; the war-chief wished to seek Wealhtheow, his queen’s bedchamber. The glorious king1 665 had set against Grendel a hall-guardian — as men had heard said—who did special service for the king of the Danes, kept a giant-watch. Surely the Geatish prince greatly trusted 670 his mighty strength, the Maker’s favor, when he took off his iron byrnie, undid his helmet, and gave his decorated iron, best of swords, to his servant and bid him hold his battle-gear.