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• Argument
• The Story of Beowulf
• I.: And First of the Kindred of Hrothgar.
• II.: Concerning Hrothgar, and How He Built the House Called Hart. Also Grendel Is Told Of.
• III.: How Grendel Fell Upon Hart and Wasted It.
• IV.: Now Comes Beowulf Ecgtheow’s Son to the Land of the Danes, and the Wall-warden Speaketh With Him.
• V.: Here Beowulf Makes Answer to the Land-warden, Who Showeth Him the Way to the King’s Abode.
• VI.: Beowulf and the Geats Come Into Hart.
• VII.: Beowulf Speaketh With Hrothgar, and Telleth How He Will Meet Grendel.
• VIII.: Hrothgar Answereth Beowulf and Biddeth Him Sit to the Feast.
• IX.: Unferth Contendeth In Words With Beowulf.
• X.: Beowulf Makes an End of His Tale of the Swimming. Wealhtheow, Hrothgar’s Queen, Greets Him; and Hrothgar Delivers to Him the Warding of the Hall.
• XI.: Now Is Beowulf Left In the Hall Alone With His Men.
• XII.: Grendel Cometh Into Hart: of the Strife Betwixt Him and Beowulf.
• XIII.: Beowulf Hath the Victory: Grendel Is Hurt Deadly and Leaveth Hand and Arm In the Hall.
• XIV.: The Danes Rejoice; They Go to Look On the Slot of Grendel, and Come Back to Hart, and On the Way Make Merry With Racing and the Telling of Tales.
• XV.: King Hrothgar and His Thanes Look On the Arm of Grendel. Converse Betwixt Hrothgar and Beowulf Concerning the Battle.
• XVI.: Hrothgar Giveth Gifts to Beowulf.
• XVII.: They Feast In Hart. the Gleeman Sings of Finn and Hengest.
• XVIII.: The Ending of the Tale of Finn.
• XIX.: More Gifts Are Given to Beowulf. the Brising Collar Told Of.
• XX.: Grendel’s Dam Breaks Into Hart and Bears Off Aeschere.
• XXI.: Hrothgar Laments the Slaying of Aeschere, and Tells of Grendel’s Mother and Her Den.
• XXII.: They Follow Grendel’s Dam to Her Lair.
• XXIII.: Beowulf Reacheth the Mere-bottom In a Day’s While, and Contends With Grendel’s Dam.
• XXIV.: Beowulf Slayeth Grendel’s Dam, Smiteth Off Grendel’s Head, and Cometh Back With His Thanes to Hart.
• XXV.: Converse of Hrothgar With Beowulf.
• XXVI.: More Converse of Hrothgar and Beowulf: the Geats Make Them Ready For Departure.
• XXVII.: Beowulf Bids Hrothgar Farewell: the Geats Fare to Ship.
• XXVIII.: Beowulf Comes Back to His Land. of the Tale of Thrytho.
• XXIX.: Beowulf Tells Hygelac of Hrothgar: Also of Freawaru His Daughter.
• XXX.: Beowulf Forebodes Ill From the Wedding of Freawaru: He Tells of Grendel and His Dam.
• XXXI.: Beowulf Gives Hrothgar’s Gifts to Hygelac, and By Him Is Rewarded. of the Death of Hygelac and of Heardred His Son, and How Beowulf Is King of the Geats: the Worm Is First Told Of.
• XXXII.: How the Worm Came to the Howe, and How He Was Robbed of a Cup; and How He Fell On the Folk.
• XXXIII.: The Worm Burns Beowulf’s House, and Beowulf Gets Ready to Go Against Him. Beowulf’s Early Deeds In Battle With the Hetware Told Of.
• XXXIV.: Beowulf Goes Against the Worm. He Tells of Herebeald and HÆthcyn.
• XXXV.: Beowulf Tells of Past Feuds, and Bids Farewell to His Fellows. He Falls On the Worm, and the Battle of Them Begins.
• XXXVI.: Wiglaf Son of Weohstan Goes to the Help of Beowulf: NÆgling, Beowulf’s Sword, Is Broken On the Worm.
• XXXVII.: They Two Slay the Worm. Beowulf Is Wounded Deadly: He Biddeth Wiglaf Bear Out the Treasure.
• XXXVIII.: Beowulf Beholdeth the Treasure and Passeth Away.
• XXXIX.: Wiglaf Casteth Shame On Those Fleers.
• Xl.: Wiglaf Sendeth Tiding to the Host: the Words of the Messenger.
• Xli.: More Words of the Messenger. How He Fears the Swedes When They Wot of Beowulf Dead.
• Xlii.: They Go to Look On the Field of Deed.
• Xliii.: of the Burial of Beowulf.

XXXV.

BEOWULF TELLS OF PAST FEUDS, AND BIDS FAREWELL TO HIS FELLOWS. HE FALLS ON THE WORM, AND THE BATTLE OF THEM BEGINS.

• THEN to sleeping-stead wendeth he, singeth he sorrow,
• The one for the other; o’er-roomy all seem’d him
• The meads and the wick-stead. So the helm of the Weders
• For Herebeald’s sake the sorrow of heart
• All welling yet bore, and in nowise might he
• On the banesman of that life the feud be abooting;
• Nor ever the sooner that warrior might hate
• With deeds loathly, though he to him nothing was lief.
• He then with the sorrow wherewith that sore beset him
• Man’s joy-tide gave up, and chose him God’s light.
• To his offspring he left, e’en as wealthy man doeth,
• His land and his folk-burgs when he from life wended.
• Then sin was and striving of Swedes and of Geats,
• Over the wide water war-tide in common,
• The hard horde-hate to wit sithence Hrethel perish’d;
• And to them ever were the Ongentheow’s sons
• Doughty and host-whetting, nowise then would friendship
• Hold over the waters; but round about Hreosnaburgh
• The fierce fray of foeman was oftentimes fram’d.
• Kin of friends that mine were, there they awreaked
• The feud and the evil deed, e’en as was famed;
• Although he, the other, with his own life he bought it,
• A cheaping full hard: unto Hæthcyn it was,
• To the lord of the Geat-folk, a life-fateful war.
• Learned I that the morrow one brother the other
• With the bills’ edges wreaked the death on the banesman,
• Whereas Ongentheow is a-seeking of Eofor:
• Glode the war-helm asunder, the aged of Scylfings
• Fell, sword-bleak; e’en so remember’d the hand
• Feud enough; nor e’en then did the life-stroke withhold.
• I to him for the treasure which erewhile he gave me
• Repaid it in warring, as was to me granted,
• With my light-gleaming sword. To me gave he land,
• The hearth and the home-bliss: unto him was no need
• That unto the Gifthas or unto the Spear-Danes
• Or into the Swede-realm he needs must go seeking
• A worse wolf of war for a worth to be cheaping;
• For in the host ever would I be before him
• Alone in the fore-front, and so life-long shall I
• Be a-framing of strife, whileas tholeth the sword,
• Which early and late hath bestead me full often,
• Sithence was I by doughtiness unto Day-raven
• The hand-bane erst waxen, to the champion of Hug-folk;
• He nowise the fretwork to the king of the Frisians,
• The breast-worship to wit, might bring any more,
• But cringed in battle that herd of the banner,
• The Atheling in might: the edge naught was his bane,
• But for him did the war-grip the heart-wellings of him
• Break, the house of the bones. Now shall the bill’s edge,
• The hand and hard sword, about the hoard battle.
• So word uttered Beowulf, spake out the boast word
• For the last while as now: Many wars dared I
• In the days of my youth, and now will I yet,
• The old warder of folk, seek to the feud,
• Full gloriously frame, if the scather of foul-deed
• From the hall of the earth me out shall be seeking.
• Greeted he then each one of the grooms,
• The keen wearers of helms, for the last while of whiles,
• His own fellows the dear: No sword would I fare with,
• No weapon against the Worm, wist I but how
• ’Gainst the monster of evil in otherwise might I
• Uphold me my boast, as erst did I with Grendel;
• But there fire of the war-tide full hot do I ween me,
• And the breath, and the venom; I shall bear on me therefore
• Both the board and the byrny; nor the burg’s warden shall I
• Overflee for a foot’s-breadth, but unto us twain
• It shall be at the wall as to us twain Weird willeth,
• The Maker of each man. Of mood am I eager;
• So that ’gainst that war-flier from boast I withhold me.
• Abide ye upon burg with your byrnies bewarded,
• Ye men in your battle-gear, which may the better
• After the slaughter-race save us from wounding
• Of the twain of us. Naught is it yours to take over,
• Nor the measure of any man save alone me,
• That he on the monster should mete out his might,
• Or work out the earlship: but I with my main might
• Shall gain me the gold, or else gets me the battle,
• The perilous life-bale, e’en me your own lord.
• Arose then by war-round the warrior renowned
• Hard under helm, and the sword-sark he bare
• Under the stone-cliffs: in the strength then he trowed
• Of one man alone; no dastard’s way such is.
• Then he saw by the wall (e’en he, who so many,
• The good of man-bounties, of battles had out-liv’d,
• Of crashes of battle whenas hosts were blended)
• A stone-bow a-standing, and from out thence a stream
• Breaking forth from the burg; was that burn’s outwelling
• All hot with the war-fire; and none nigh to the hoard then
• Might ever unburning any while bide,
• Live out through the deep for the flame of the drake.
• Out then from his breast, for as bollen as was he,
• Let the Weder-Geats’ chief the words be out faring;
• The stout-hearted storm’d and the stave of him enter’d
• Battle-bright sounding in under the hoar stone.
• Then uproused was hate, and the hoard-warden wotted
• The speech of man’s word, and no more while there was
• Friendship to fetch. Then forth came there first
• The breath of the evil beast out from the stone,
• The hot sweat of battle, and dinn’d then the earth.
• The warrior beneath the burg swung up his war-round
• Against that grisly guest, the lord of the Geats;
• Then the heart of the ring-bow’d grew eager therewith
• To seek to the strife. His sword ere had he drawn,
• That good lord of the battle, the leaving of old,
• The undull of edges: there was unto either
• Of the bale-minded ones the fear of the other.
• All steadfast of mind stood against his steep shield
• The lord of the friends, when the Worm was a-bowing
• Together all swiftly, in war-gear he bided;
• Then boune was the burning one, bow’d in his going,
• To the fate of him faring. The shield was well warding
• The life and the lyke of the mighty lord king
• For a lesser of whiles than his will would have had it,
• If he at that frist on the first of the day
• Was to wield him, as weird for him never will’d it,
• The high-day of battle. His hand he up braided,
• The lord of the Geats, and the grisly-fleck’d smote he
• With the leaving of Ing, in such wise that the edge fail’d,
• The brown blade on the bone, and less mightily bit
• Than the king of the nation had need in that stour,
• With troubles beset. But then the burg-warden
• After the war-swing all wood of his mood
• Cast forth the slaughter-flame, sprung thereon widely
• The battle-gleams: nowise of victory he boasted,
• The gold-friend of the Geats; his war-bill had falter’d,
• All naked in war, in such wise as it should not,
• The iron exceeding good. Naught was it easy
• For him there, the mighty-great offspring of Ecgtheow,
• That he now that earth-plain should give up for ever;
• But against his will needs must he dwell in the wick
• Of the otherwhere country; as ever must each man
• Let go of his loan-days. Not long was it thenceforth
• Ere the fell ones of fight fell together again.
• The hoard-warden up-hearten’d him, welled his breast
• With breathing anew. Then narrow need bore he,
• Encompass’d with fire, who erst the folk wielded;
• Nowise in a heap his hand-fellows there,
• The bairns of the athelings, stood all about him
• In valour of battle; but they to holt bow’d them;
• Their dear life they warded; but in one of them welled
• His soul with all sorrow. So sib-ship may never
• Turn aside any whit to the one that well thinketh.