Sore is my soul to say to any
of the race of man what ruth for me
475in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought,
what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me,
my warriors wane; for Wyrd hath swept them
into Grendel’s grasp. But God is able
this deadly foe from his deeds to turn!
480Boasted full oft, as my beer they drank,
earls o’er the ale-cup, arméd men,
that they would bide in the beer-hall here,
Grendel’s attack with terror of blades.[1]
Then was this mead-house at morning tide
485dyed with gore, when the daylight broke,
all the boards of the benches blood-besprinkled,
gory the hall: I had heroes the less,
doughty dear-ones that death had reft.
—But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words,
490hardy hero, as heart shall prompt thee.”
Gathered together, the Geatish men
in the banquet-hall on bench assigned,
sturdy-spirited, sat them down,
hardy-hearted. A henchman attended,
495carried the carven cup in hand,
served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang
blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,
no dearth of warriors,[2] Weder and Dane.
- ↑ “With terrible blades,”—drawn swords.—“Boast” is not used in the modern sense, nor was it “Dutch courage” that inspired the utterance. As in the Indian war-dance, so at the Germanic feast in hall or camp before battle, the warrior was expected to make his beót or promise of prowess,—and to keep it. These vaunts easily lent themselves to jocose treatment in the declining days of epic or romance; witness the famous “gabs” in Charlemagne’s Journey to Jerusalem.
- ↑ In spite of v. 476, Hrothgar still has a large band of retainers.
