28 Feb 22 Beowulf – Ancient Epic #14

Tales of Queens and Armor

Then the keel plunged

And shook in the sea; and they sailed from Denmark.

Right away the mast was rigged with its sea-shawl;

Sail ropes were tightened, timbers drummed

And stiff winds kept the wave-crosser 

Skimming ahead; as she heaved forward,

Her foamy neck was fleet and buoyant,

A lapped prow loping over currents.

Mortality

We all know it. We all do it. We don’t think about it much until me must. We know almost nothing about it, so we imagine and fabricate what its depth and height. As recent as the nineteenth century, it was still considered our common portion of living. Mortality.

On one level, Beowulf is from beginning to end a poem about confronting death. It begins with a funeral, and proceeds to the story of a murderous monster. Beowulf enters the story as a hero who has chosen to risk death in order to achieve fame, and perhaps, treasure. 

As Beowulf fights Grendel’s mother at the bottom of the mere, even his close friends believe he has died. Some readers have seen his journey to the bottom of the mere as a symbolic death, drawing on the Christian story of the “Harrowing of Hell,” in which Jesus, after dying on the Cross, descends to Hell in order to divide the saved from the damned. 

The final third of the poem is devoted to Beowulf’s death and funeral. Some readers have argued that the poem presents pagan mortality as tragic: Beowulf and the other heroes lead frightening, death-filled lives, and die without any hope of salvation. However, other readers have found Beowulf all the more heroic because he accomplishes his deeds in the shadow of certain death, without hope of resurrection. For these readers, Beowulf suggests that a good, brave life is worth living at any cost. 

And now . . . Back to Our Story . . .

We last left Beowulf pushing off from his heroic stay in Denmark, headed for home . . .

Then the keel plunged

And shook in the sea; and they sailed from Denmark.

Right away the mast was rigged with its sea-shawl;

 Sail ropes were tightened, timbers drummed

And stiff winds kept the wave-crosser 

Skimming ahead; as she heaved forward,

 Her foamy neck was fleet and buoyant,

A lapped prow loping over currents, 1910

Until finally the Geats caught sight of coastline 

And familiar cliffs. 

The keel reared up,

Wind lifted it home, it hit on the land.

The harbor guard came hurrying out

To the rolling water: he had watched the offing 

Long and hard, on the lookout for those friends. 

With the anchor cables, he moored their craft 

Right where it had beached, in case a backwash 

Might catch the hull and carry it away.

Then he ordered the prince’s treasure-trove 1920

To be carried ashore. 

It was a short step 

From there to where Hrethel’s son and heir, 

Hygelac the gold-giver, makes his home

On a secure cliff, in the company of retainers.

The building was magnificent, the king majestic, 

Ensconced in his hall; and although Hygd, his queen, 

Was young, a few short years at court,

Her mind was thoughtful and her manners sure.

Haereth’s daughter behaved generously

And stinted nothing when she distributed    1930

Bounty to the Geats.

Great Queen Modthryth 

Perpetrated terrible wrongs.

If any retainer ever made bold

To look her in the face, if an eye not her lord’s

Stared at her directly during daylight, 

The outcome was sealed: he was bound

In hand-tightened shackles, racked, tortured 

Until doom was announced--death by the sword, 

Slash of blade, blood gush and death qualms

In an evil display. 

Even a queen 1940

Outstanding in beauty must not overstep like that.

A queen should weave peace, not punish the innocent 

With loss of life for imagined insults.

But Hemming’s kinsman put a halt to her ways 

And drinkers round the table had another tale: 

She was less of a bane to people’s lives,

Less cruel-minded, after she was married

To the brave Offa, a bride arrayed

In her gold finery, given away

By a caring father, ferried to her young prince 1950

Over dim seas. 

In days to come

She would grace the throne and grow famous

For her good deeds and conduct of life,

Her high devotion to the hero king 

Who was the best king, it has been said, 

Between the two seas or anywhere else

On the face of the earth. 

Offa was honored 

Far and wide for his generous ways,

His fighting spirit and his far-seeing

Defense of his homeland; from him there sprang Eomer, 1960

Garmund’s grandson, kinsman of Hemming,

His warrior’s mainstay and master of the field.

Heroic Beowulf and his band of men 

Crossed the wide strand, striding along

The sandy foreshore; the sun shone,

The world’s candle warmed them from the south

As they hastened to where, as they had heard,

The young king, Ongentheow’s killer

And his people’s protector, was dispensing rings

Inside his bawn. 

Beowulf’s return       1970

Was reported to Hygelac as soon as possible, 

News that the captain was now in the enclosure, 

His battle-brother back from the fray

Alive and well, walking back to the hall.

Room was quickly made, on the king’s orders,

And the troops filed across the cleared floor.

After Hygelac had offered greetings 

To his loyal thane in lofty speech,

He and his kinsman, that hale survivor,

Sat face to face. 

Haereth’s daughter 1980

Moved about with the mead-jug in her hand, 

Taking care of the company, filling the cups 

That warriors held out. Then Hygelac began 

To put courteous questions to his old comrade 

In the high hall. He hankered to know

Every tale the Sea-Geats had to tell.

“How did you fare on your foreign voyage, 

Dear Beowulf, when you abruptly decided 

To sail away across the salt water

And fight at Heorot? 

Did you help Hrothgar  1990

Much in the end? 

Could you ease the prince 

Of his well-known troubles? 

Your undertaking Cast my spirits down, 

I dreaded the outcome of your expedition and pleaded with you

Long and hard to leave the killer be, 

Let the South-Danes settle their own

Blood-feud with Grendel. 

So God be thanked I am granted this sight of you, safe and sound.”

Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke:

“What happened, lord Hygelac, is hardly a secret   2000

Any more among men in this world—

Myself and Grendel coming to grips

On the very spot where he visited destruction 

On the Victory-Shieldings and violated

Life and limb, loses I avenged

So no earthly offspring of Grendel’s 

Need ever boast of that bout before dawn, 

No matter know long the last of his evil 

Family survives.

When I first landed I hastened to the ring-hall and saluted Hrothgar.    2010

Once he had discovered why I had come 

The son of Halfdane sent me immediately

To sit with his own sons on the bench.

It was a happy gathering. In my whole life 

I have never seen mead enjoyed more

In any hall on earth. 

Sometimes the queen Herself appeared, peace-pledge between nations, 

To hearten the young ones and hand out

A torque to a warrior, then take her place.

Sometimes Hrothgar’s daughter distributed      2020

Ale to older ranks, in order on the benches: 

I heard the company call her Freawaru

As she made her rounds, presenting men

With the gem-studded bowl, young bride-to-be 

To the gracious Ingeld, in her gold-rimmed attire.

The friend of the Shieldings favors her betrothal: 

The guardian of the kingdom sees good in it

And hoped this woman will heal old wounds

And grievous feuds.

But generally the spear

Is prompt to retaliate when a prince is killed,  2030

No matter how admirable the bride may be.

“Think how the 

Heathobards will be bound to feel,

Their lord, Ingeld, and his loyal thanes,

When he walks in with that woman to the feast: 

Danes are at the table, being entertained, 

Honored guest in glittering regalia,

Burnished ring-mail that was their hosts’ birthright, 

Looted when the Heathobards could no longer wield 

Their weapons in the shield-clash, when they went down

With their beloved comrades and forfeited their lives. 2040

Then an old spearman will speak while they are drinking, 

Having glimpsed some heirloom that brings alive 

Memories of the massacre; his mood will darken

And heart-stricken, in the stress of his emotion, 

He will begin to test a young-man’s temper 

And stir up trouble, starting like this:

“Now, my friend, don’t you recognize

Your father’s sword, his favorite weapon,

Then one he wore when he went out in his war-mask 

To face the Danes on that final day? 2050

After Wethergeld died and his men were doomed 

The Shieldings quickly took the field,

And now here’s the son of one or other

Of those same killers coming through our hall 

Overbearing us, mouthing boasts,

And rigged in armor that by right is yours.’ 

And so he keeps on, recalling and accusing, 

Working things up with bitter words

Until one of the lady’s retainers lies

Spattered in blood, split open    2060

On his father’s account. 

The killer knows 

The lie of the land and escaped with his life. 

Then on both sides the oath-bound lords

Will break the peace, a passionate hate

Will build up in Ingeld and love for his bride

Will falter in him as the feud rankles.

I therefore suspect the good faith of the Heathobards,

The truth of their friendship and the trustworthiness 

Of their alliance with the Danes.

But now, my lord,

I shall carry on with my account of Grendel, 2070

The whole story of everything that happened 

In the hand-to-hand fight.

After heaven’s gem

Had gone mildly to earth, that maddened spirit,

The terror of those twilights, came to attack us 

Where we stood guard, still safe inside the hall. 

There deadly violence came down on Handscio

And he fell as fate ordained, the first to perish,

Rigged out for the combat. 

A comrade from our ranks

Had come to grief in Grendel’s maw:

He ate up the entire body. 2080

There was blood on his teeth, he was bloated and furious, 

All roused up, yet still unready

To leave the hall empty-handed;

Renowned for his might, he matched himself against me, 

Wildly reaching.  He had this roomy pouch,

A strange accoutrement, intricately strung 

And hung at the ready, a rare patchwork 

Of devilishly fitting dragon-skins.

I had done him no wrong, yet the raging demon

Wanted to cram me and many another 2090

Into this bag--but it was not to be 

Once I got to my feet in a blind fury.

It would take too long to tell how I repaid 

The terror of the land for every life he took 

And so won credit for you, my king,

And for all your people. 

And although he got away

To enjoy life’s sweetness for a while longer,

 His right hand stayed behind him in Heorot,

 Evidence of his miserable overthrow

As he dived into murk on the mere bottom.    2100

“I got lavish rewards from the lord of the Danes

For my part in the battle, beaten gold 

And much else, once morning came

And we took our places at the banquet table. 

There was singing and excitement: an old reciter, 

A carrier of stories, recalled the early days.

At times some hero made the timbered harp 

Tremble with sweetness, or related true 

And tragic happenings; at times the king

Gave the proper turn to some fantastic tale, 2110

Or a battle-scarred veteran, bowed with age, 

Would begin to remember the martial deeds 

Of his youth and prime and be overcome

As the past welled up in his wintry heart.

“We were happy there the whole day long 

And enjoyed our time until another night 

Descended upon us. Then suddenly

The vehement mother avenged her son

And wreaked destruction. 

Death had robbed her; Geats had slain Grendel, so his ghastly dam    2120

Struck back and with bare-faced defiance

 Laid a man low. 

Thus life departed

From the sage Auschere, an elder wise in council. 

But afterwards, on the morning following,

The Danes could not burn the dead body 

Nor lay the remains of the man they loved

On his funeral pyre. She had fled with the corpse

And taken refuge beneath torrents on the mountain.

It was a hard blow for Hrothgar to bear,

Harder than any he had undergone before.    2130

And so the heartsore king beseeched me

In your royal name to take my chances 

Underwater, to win glory

And prove my worth. 

He promised me rewards.

Hence, as is well known, I went to my encounter

With the terror-monger at the bottom of the tarn.

For a while it was hand-to-hand between us, 

Then blood went curdling along the currents 

And I beheaded Grendel’s mother in the hall

With a mighty sword. I barely managed 2140

To escape with my life; my time had not yet come. 

But Halfdane’s heir, the shelter of those earls, 

Again endowed me with gifts in abundance.

“Thus the king acted with due custom.

I was paid and recompensed completely, 

Given full measure and the freedom to choose

From Hrothgar’s treasures by Hrothgar himself.

These, King Hygelac, I am happy to present

To you as gifts. It is still upon your grace

That all favor depends. I have few kinsman       2150

Who are close, my king, except for your kind self.”

Then he ordered the boar-framed standard to be brought,

The battle-topping helmet, the mail-shirt gray as hoar-frost 

And the precious war-sword; and proceeded with his speech. 

“When Hrothgar presented this war-gear to me

He instructed, my lord, to give you some account Of why it signifies his special favor.

He said it had belonged to his older brother, King Heorogar, who had long kept it,

But that Heorogar had never bequeathed it 2160

To his son Heoroweard, that worthy scion, Loyal as he was.

Enjoy it well.”

Background

I thought you might enjoy the list below, not because every word appears in the Beowulf translation (Seamus Heaney) that we are using, but rather because of the perspective of historical word-evolution. Scan the list for surprises and for insight into how some of our modern words came to be.

LIST OF WORDS AND PHRASES NOT IN GENERAL USE:

ATHELING: Prince, nobleman.

BAIRN: Son, child.

BARROW: Mound, rounded hill, funeral-mound.

BATTLE-SARK: Armor.

BEAKER: Cup, drinking-vessel.

BEGEAR: Prepare.

BIGHT.—Bay, sea.

BILL: Sword.

BOSS: Ornamental projection.

BRACTEATE: A round ornament on a necklace.

BRAND: Sword.

BURN: Stream.

BURNIE: Armor.

CARLE: Man, hero.

EARL: Nobleman, any brave man.

EKE: Also.

EMPRISE: Enterprise, undertaking.

ERST: Formerly.

ERST-WORTHY: Worthy for a long time past.

FAIN: Glad.

FERRY: Bear, carry.

FEY: Fated, doomed.

FLOAT: Vessel, ship.

FOIN: To lunge (Shaks.).

GLORY OF KINGS: God.

GREWSOME: Cruel, fierce.

HEFT: Handle, hilt; used by synecdoche for ‘sword.’

HELM: Helmet, protector.

HENCHMAN: Retainer, vassal.

HIGHT: Am (was) named.

HOLM: Ocean, curved surface of the sea.

HIMSEEMED: (It) seemed to him.

LIEF: Dear, valued.

MERE: Sea; in compounds, ‘mere-ways,’ ‘mere-currents,’ etc.

MICKLE: Much.

NATHLESS: Nevertheless.

NAZE: Edge (nose).

NESS: Edge.

NICKER: Sea-beast.

QUIT, QUITE: Requite.

RATHE: Quickly.

REAVE: Bereave, deprive.

SAIL-ROAD: Sea.

SETTLE: Seat, bench.

SKINKER: One who pours.

SOOTHLY: Truly.

SWINGE: Stroke, blow.

TARGE, TARGET: Shield.

THROUGHLY: Thoroughly.

TOLD: Counted.

UNCANNY: Ill-featured, grizzly.

UNNETHE: Difficult.

WAR-SPEED: Success in war.

WEB: Tapestry (that which is ‘woven’).

WEEDED: Clad (cf. widow’s weeds).

WEEN: Suppose, imagine.

WEIRD: Fate, Providence.

WHILOM: At times, formerly, often.

WIELDER: Ruler. Often used of God; also in compounds, as ‘Wielder of Glory,’ ‘Wielder of Worship.’

WIGHT: Creature.

WOLD: Plane, extended surface.

WOT: Knows.

YOUNKER: Youth.

Exploration 1: Great Queen Modthryth comes on the scene. Quite the description of this less than desirable sovereign. Create a list of honorable characteristics of a queen in Beowulf’s day. Perhaps think of Hrothgar’s wife? 

Exploration 2:  “Heroic Beowulf and his band of men / Crossed the wide strand, striding along”

Have a look at this excerpt:

Then the keel plunged

And shook in the sea; and they sailed from Denmark.

Right away the mast was rigged with its sea-shawl;

Sail ropes were tightened, timbers drummed

And stiff winds kept the wave-crosser 

Skimming ahead; as she heaved forward,

Her foamy neck was fleet and buoyant,

A lapped prow loping over currents, 1910

Until finally the Geats caught sight of coastline 

And familiar cliffs. 

The keel reared up,

Wind lifted it home, it hit on the land.

In just a few lines, Beowulf and his men go from Denmark to their home shores. What about in between? Boooring!? Terrifying? Consider life at sea in Beowulf’s time. Have you ever wondered what happened on those long voyages other than storms, fights, and fatigue? What questions can you come up with about such travel. If you send any inquires, I will do my best to provide answers. (I’ve been diving into this subject quite a bit lately.)

Exploration 3: Metaphors and kennings* abound in the Old English language. See if you can find more like “the world’s candle” in today’s segment or any in the past. Here’s a definition of “kenning.”

*A kenning is a figure of speech in which two words are combined in order to form a poetic expression that refers to a person or a thing; the two words are joined with a hyphen. For example, "whale-road" is a kenning for the sea. Kennings are most commonly found in Old Norse and Old English poetry