Выбрать главу

were the loved ones she lost at the linden-play,

bairn and brother, they bowed to fate,

stricken by spears; ’twas a sorrowful woman!

None doubted why the daughter of Hoc

bewailed her doom when dawning came,

and under the sky she saw them lying,

kinsmen murdered, where most she had kenned

of the sweets of the world! By war were swept, too,

Finn’s own liegemen, and few were left;

in the parleying-place [16g] he could ply no longer

weapon, nor war could he wage on Hengest,

and rescue his remnant by right of arms

from the prince’s thane. A pact he offered:

another dwelling the Danes should have,

hall and high-seat, and half the power

should fall to them in Frisian land;

and at the fee-gifts, Folcwald’s son

day by day the Danes should honor,

the folk of Hengest favor with rings,

even as truly, with treasure and jewels,

with fretted gold, as his Frisian kin

he meant to honor in ale-hall there.

Pact of peace they plighted further

on both sides firmly. Finn to Hengest

with oath, upon honor, openly promised

that woful remnant, with wise-men’s aid,

nobly to govern, so none of the guests

by word or work should warp the treaty, [16h]

or with malice of mind bemoan themselves

as forced to follow their fee-giver’s slayer,

lordless men, as their lot ordained.

Should Frisian, moreover, with foeman’s taunt,

that murderous hatred to mind recall,

then edge of the sword must seal his doom.

Oaths were given, and ancient gold

heaped from hoard. — The hardy Scylding,

battle-thane best, [16i] on his balefire lay.

All on the pyre were plain to see

the gory sark, the gilded swine-crest,

boar of hard iron, and athelings many

slain by the sword: at the slaughter they fell.

It was Hildeburh’s hest, at Hnaef’s own pyre

the bairn of her body on brands to lay,

his bones to burn, on the balefire placed,

at his uncle’s side. In sorrowful dirges

bewept them the woman: great wailing ascended.

Then wound up to welkin the wildest of death-fires,

roared o’er the hillock: [16j] heads all were melted,

gashes burst, and blood gushed out

from bites [16k] of the body. Balefire devoured,

greediest spirit, those spared not by war

out of either folk: their flower was gone.

XVII

THEN hastened those heroes their home to see,

friendless, to find the Frisian land,

houses and high burg. Hengest still

through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn,

holding pact, yet of home he minded,

though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive

over the waters, now waves rolled fierce

lashed by the winds, or winter locked them

in icy fetters. Then fared another

year to men’s dwellings, as yet they do,

the sunbright skies, that their season ever

duly await. Far off winter was driven;

fair lay earth’s breast; and fain was the rover,

the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered

on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep,

and how to hasten the hot encounter

where sons of the Frisians were sure to be.

So he escaped not the common doom,

when Hun with “Lafing,” the light-of-battle,

best of blades, his bosom pierced:

its edge was famed with the Frisian earls.

On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise,

on himself at home, the horrid sword-death;

for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack

had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed,

mourning their woes. [17a] Finn’s wavering spirit

bode not in breast. The burg was reddened

with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain,

king amid clansmen; the queen was taken.

To their ship the Scylding warriors bore

all the chattels the chieftain owned,

whatever they found in Finn’s domain

of gems and jewels. The gentle wife

o’er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore,

led to her land.

The lay was finished,

the gleeman’s song. Then glad rose the revel;

bench-joy brightened. Bearers draw

from their “wonder-vats” wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth,

under gold-crown goes where the good pair sit,

uncle and nephew, true each to the other one,

kindred in amity. Unferth the spokesman

at the Scylding lord’s feet sat: men had faith in his spirit,

his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him

unsure at the sword-play. The Scylding queen spoke:

“Quaff of this cup, my king and lord,

breaker of rings, and blithe be thou,

gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak

such words of mildness as man should use.

Be glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful,

or near or far, which now thou hast.

Men say to me, as son thou wishest

yon hero to hold. Thy Heorot purged,

jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while thou canst,

with many a largess; and leave to thy kin

folk and realm when forth thou goest

to greet thy doom. For gracious I deem

my Hrothulf, [17b] willing to hold and rule

nobly our youths, if thou yield up first,

prince of Scyldings, thy part in the world.

I ween with good he will well requite

offspring of ours, when all he minds

that for him we did in his helpless days

of gift and grace to gain him honor!”

Then she turned to the seat where her sons wereplaced,

Hrethric and Hrothmund, with heroes’ bairns,

young men together: the Geat, too, sat there,

Beowulf brave, the brothers between.

XVIII

A CUP she gave him, with kindly greeting

and winsome words. Of wounden gold,

she offered, to honor him, arm-jewels twain,

corselet and rings, and of collars the noblest

that ever I knew the earth around.

Ne’er heard I so mighty, ’neath heaven’s dome,

a hoard-gem of heroes, since Hama bore

to his bright-built burg the Brisings’ necklace,

jewel and gem casket. — Jealousy fled he,

Eormenric’s hate: chose help eternal.

Hygelac Geat, grandson of Swerting,

on the last of his raids this ring bore with him,

under his banner the booty defending,

the war-spoil warding; but Wyrd o’erwhelmed him

what time, in his daring, dangers he sought,

feud with Frisians. Fairest of gems

he bore with him over the beaker-of-waves,

sovran strong: under shield he died.

Fell the corpse of the king into keeping of Franks,

gear of the breast, and that gorgeous ring;

weaker warriors won the spoil,

after gripe of battle, from Geatland’s lord,

and held the death-field.

Din rose in hall.

Wealhtheow spake amid warriors, and said: —

“This jewel enjoy in thy jocund youth,

Beowulf lov’d, these battle-weeds wear,

a royal treasure, and richly thrive!

Preserve thy strength, and these striplings here

counsel in kindness: requital be mine.

Hast done such deeds, that for days to come

вернуться

16g

Battlefield. — Hengest is the “prince’s thane,” companion of Hnaef. “Folcwald’s son” is Finn.

вернуться

16h

That is, Finn would govern in all honor the few Danish warriors who were left, provided, of course, that none of them tried to renew the quarrel or avenge Hnaef their fallen lord. If, again, one of Finn’s Frisians began a quarrel, he should die by the sword.

вернуться

16i

Hnaef.

вернуться

16j

The high place chosen for the funeraclass="underline" see description of Beowulf’s funeral-pile at the end of the poem.

вернуться

16k

Wounds.

вернуться

17a

That is, these two Danes, escaping home, had told the story of the attack on Hnaef, the slaying of Hengest, and all the Danish woes. Collecting a force, they return to Frisia and kill Finn in his home.

вернуться

17b

Nephew to Hrothgar, with whom he subsequently quarrels, and elder cousin to the two young sons of Hrothgar and Wealhtheow, — their natural guardian in the event of the king’s death. There is something finely feminine in this speech of Wealhtheow’s, apart from its somewhat irregular and irrelevant sequence of topics. Both she and her lord probably distrust Hrothulf; but she bids the king to be of good cheer, and, turning to the suspect, heaps affectionate assurances on his probity. “My own Hrothulf” will surely not forget these favors and benefits of the past, but will repay them to the orphaned boy.