Beowolf

King Hrothgar of Denmark, a descendant of the great king Shield Sheafson, enjoys a prosperous and
successful reign. He builds a great mead-hall, called Heorot, where his warriors can gather to drink,
receive gifts from their lord, and listen to stories sung by the scops, or bards. But the jubilant noise from
Heorot angers Grendel, a horrible demon who lives in the swamplands of Hrothgar’s kingdom. Grendel
terrorizes the Danes every night, killing them and defeating their efforts to fight back. The Danes suffer
many years of fear, danger, and death at the hands of Grendel. Eventually, however, a young Geatish
warrior named Beowulf hears of Hrothgar’s plight. Inspired by the challenge, Beowulf sails to Denmark
with a small company of men, determined to defeat Grendel.

Hrothgar, who had once done a great favor for Beowulf’s father Ecgtheow, accepts Beowulf’s offer to
fight Grendel and holds a feast in the hero’s honor. During the feast, an envious Dane named Unferth
taunts Beowulf and accuses him of being unworthy of his reputation. Beowulf responds with a boastful
description of some of his past accomplishments. His confidence cheers the Danish warriors, and the
feast lasts merrily into the night. At last, however, Grendel arrives. Beowulf fights him unarmed, proving
himself stronger than the demon, who is terrified. As Grendel struggles to escape, Beowulf tears the
monster’s arm off. Mortally wounded, Grendel slinks back into the swamp to die. The severed arm is
hung high in the mead-hall as a trophy of victory.

Overjoyed, Hrothgar showers Beowulf with gifts and treasure at a feast in his honor. Songs are sung in
praise of Beowulf, and the celebration lasts late into the night. But another threat is approaching.
Grendel’s mother, a swamp-hag who lives in a desolate lake, comes to Heorot seeking revenge for her
son’s death. She murders Aeschere, one of Hrothgar’s most trusted advisers, before slinking away. To
avenge Aeschere’s death, the company travels to the murky swamp, where Beowulf dives into the water
and fights Grendel’s mother in her underwater lair. He kills her with a sword forged for a giant, then,
finding Grendel’s corpse, decapitates it and brings the head as a prize to Hrothgar. The Danish
countryside is now purged of its treacherous monsters.

The Danes are again overjoyed, and Beowulf’s fame spreads across the kingdom. Beowulf departs after
a sorrowful goodbye to Hrothgar, who has treated him like a son. He returns to Geatland, where he and
his men are reunited with their king and queen, Hygelac and Hygd, to whom Beowulf recounts his
adventures in Denmark. Beowulf then hands over most of his treasure to Hygelac, who, in turn, rewards
him.

In time, Hygelac is killed in a war against the Shylfings, and, after Hygelac’s son dies, Beowulf ascends to
the throne of the Geats. He rules wisely for fifty years, bringing prosperity to Geatland. When Beowulf is
an old man, however, a thief disturbs a barrow, or mound, where a great dragon lies guarding a horde of
treasure. Enraged, the dragon emerges from the barrow and begins unleashing fiery destruction upon
the Geats. Sensing his own death approaching, Beowulf goes to fight the dragon. With the aid of Wiglaf,
he succeeds in killing the beast, but at a heavy cost. The dragon bites Beowulf in the neck, and its fiery
venom kills him moments after their encounter. The Geats fear that their enemies will attack them now
that Beowulf is dead. According to Beowulf’s wishes, they burn their departed king’s body on a huge
funeral pyre and then bury him with a massive treasure in a barrow overlooking the sea

The Wife's Lament

loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I draw these dark words from deep wells of wild grief,

dredged up from my heart, regretful & sad.

I recount wrenching seizures I've suffered since birth,

both ancient and recent, that drove me mad.

I have reaped, from my exile-paths, only pain

here on earth.

First, my Lord forsook his kinfolk―left,

crossed the seas' shining expanse, deserted our tribe.

Since then, I've known only loneliness:

wrenching dawn-griefs, despair in wild tides ...

Where, oh where can he be?

Then I, too, left—a lonely, lordless refugee,

full of unaccountable desires!

But the man's kinsmen schemed to estrange us,

divide us, keep us apart.

Divorced from hope, unable to embrace him,

how my helpless heart

broke! ...

Then my Lord spoke:

"Take up residence here."

I had few acquaintances in this alien land, none close.

I was penniless, friendless;

Christ, I felt lost!

Eventually

I believed I'd met a well-matched man—one meant for me,

but unfortunately

he

was ill-starred, unkind,

with a devious mind,

full of malicious intentions,

plotting some crime!

Before God we

vowed never to part, not till kingdom come, never!

But now that's all changed, forever—

our marriage is done, severed

Thus now I must hear,

far and near,

early and late,

contempt for my mate.

Then naysayers bade me, "Go, seek repentance in the sacred grove,

beneath the great oak trees, in some root-entangled grotto, alone."

Now in this ancient earth-hall I huddle, hurt and oppressed—

the dales are dark, the hills wild & immense,

and this cruel-briared enclosure—a hellish abode!

How the injustice assails me—my Lord's absence!

Elsewhere on earth lovers share the same bed

while I pass through life, half dead,

in this dark abscess where I wilt with the heat, unable to rest

or forget the tribulations of my life's hard lot.

A young woman must always be

stern, hard-of-heart, unmoved, full of belief,

enduring breast-cares, suppressing her own feelings.

She must always appear cheerful,

even in a tumult of grief.

Now, like a criminal exiled to a distant land,

groaning beneath insurmountable cliffs,

my weary-minded lover, drenched by wild storms

and caught in the clutches of anguish, moans and mourns,

reminded constantly of our former happiness.

Woe be it to them who abide in longing!.

The Wanderer Summary

The first speaker in the poem introduces us to a "lone-dweller," whom he says is hoping for God's mercy
and favor despite being condemned to travel alone over an ice-cold sea. He says the lines that follow as
the speech of an "earth-stepper," who is probably this same "lone-dweller" we've just met.
The earth-stepper now steps in. He remembers the hardships he has faced, including the slaughter of his
relatives. He says that no one remains alive to whom he dares speak his mind. This reflection that
prompts him to share with us a "truth" – that it's good for a person to lock his thoughts within himself. A
sad and weary mind never does anyone any good, so he counsels "glory-seekers" to bind their thoughts
within, just as he has had to do ever since his lord was killed. Now, says the earth-stepper, he's looking
for a new lord (as in, a big-time landowner who rules an area), someone to hang out with him and give
him treasure.

The earth-stepper says that everyone who has been a friendless exile knows how miserable it is when
sorrow is your only friend. Instead of receiving gold or fame, this person experiences only the path of
exile and a frozen body. The friendless exile remembers better times – partying in the mead-hall,
feasting among friends and with his lord. But now the good times are over.

When the friendless exile sleeps, says the earth-stepper, he dreams about being back in the hall,
embracing and kissing his lord just as he did in the times when he received treasure from his old boss.
When he awakes, though, all he sees are waves and sea-birds bathing. When he remembers the good
old days, his exile on the sea only seems sadder. Therefore, says the earth-stepper, he isn't sure why he
doesn't despair when he thinks deeply about the life of men – how warriors abandoned their hall very
suddenly, how this earth continues to decline.

A man cannot be wise until he is very old, says the earth-stepper. A wise man must be patient,
emotionally stable, and careful about what he says. A warrior must not be weak, foolish, or cowardly. He
must think carefully before boasting or making a promise. A wise man knows how awful it will be when
the earth is abandoned, that it will be just like an abandoned building beaten down by wintry weather.
In front of this abandoned building lie the bodies of warriors, picked at by birds and wolves or hidden in
caves by friends. In this way God destroyed the world, until the work of giants, empty of the sounds of
men, were worthless.

When the wise man contemplates this building and thinks carefully about life, he speaks as follows: He
laments the passing of life's pleasures and the people who once enjoyed them. He remarks how the
time passes away into nothingness, as though it had never been.

Behind the high wall, adorned with serpent-carvings, lie the bodies of men, killed by ash-spears. Storms
wrack the stone structure as snow covers the ground, sent by shadowy forces in the north in anger
towards men. The earth is filled with hardship, and fate governs events within it. Gold, friends, kinsmen,
and mankind are all fleeting. It's good for a person to keep his promises, and to keep his grief to himself
until he knows how to make his situation better. Things will be well for the person who seeks favor and
comfort from God, in whom all stability rests.