Beowulf: Translations by William Ellery Leonard (1923)

Click for a larger version (900 pixels high) Beowulf: A New Verse Translation for Fireside and Class Room Appleton-Century Crofts Inc., New York, 1923??. ISBN: 0781271606.
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[lines 194-224a in section III and 8th line from the bottom of folio 134r to 4th line from the bottom of folio 134v on Kevin S. Kiernan's Electronic Beowulf CD] Images of the original manuscript text of this section, and an mp3 file of Ben Slade reading it in Old English, are here.

    {Beowulf hears about Grendel and decides to travel from his home in Geatland (southern Sweden) to Heorot (in northeast Denmark) to see if he can help out. }

Far in his home, that good man, among the Geatish breeds,
Hygelac's thane and nephew, got word of Grendel's deeds.
Of all mankind the strongest in might and man was he,
In the days of this our life here, high-born and free.
Bade made ready for him a rider-of-the-sea;
Quoth, he'd seek this War-King, o'er the swan-road, he!--
Seek this noble Chieftain, 'for that 't is men he needs.'
The canny earls did chide him (though he to them was dear)
Little for his faring; nay, rather spake him cheer,
Him the battle-brave One, and looked for omens clear.
The Good One of the Greatfolk now picked his comrades keen;
When he sought his timbered vessel, he was one of bold fifteen;
And when he kenned the coast-marks, wise in sailor-craft.
The boat ere long they launched, under the bluffs abaft;
The ready warriors clambered over the wave-tossed side;
Against the sands the breakers were writhing with the tide;
On the breast of the bark the heroes bore their bright array,
Their battle-gear so gorgeous. They pushed the bark away,
Away on its eager voyage. The well-braced floater flew,
The foamy-necked, the bird-like, before the winds that blew,
Over the waves of the waters-- till, after the risen sun
Of the next day, the curved prow her course so well had run
That these faring-men the land saw, the cliff's aglow o'er the deep,
Broad sea promontories, high hills steep.
Ocean now was o'er-wandered, now was their voyaging o'er.


[lines 791-819a in section XII and 8th line from the top of folio 147r to 13th line from the top of folio 147v on Kevin S. Kiernan's Electronic Beowulf CD] Images of the original manuscript text of this section, and an mp3 file of Ben Slade reading it in Old English, are here.

    {At this moment Beowulf and Grendel are fighting and Grendel is howling and screaming and wishing to escape but Beowulf has grabbed Grendel's arm and is using his incredible hand-strength to hold on to him. }

The jarls' Defender would not, forsooth with a will,
Let him loose aliving -- him who came to kill,
Deeming not his life-days of use to any folk.
More than once did jarlman of Beowulf try a stroke
With his father's falchion, fain the life to ward
Of the famed Chieftain, their great Lord.
They wist not, these warsmen, these hardy-headed few,
The while they fell asmiting and thought the while to hew
On this side, on that side, seeking soul to kill,
That best of earthly iron blades, nor never battle-bill,
This accursed Scather could hurt or harm:
For over victor-weapons he had cast a charm,
Over every sword-edge. Yet his passing-o'er,
In the days of his life here, was to be full sore;
And this alien Elf-Thing was to fare afar
To the under-places where the devils are.
For he had found, had Grendel, -- this Striver against God, --
Who in such merry mood of old so oft on man had trod,
That his bulk-of-body would not help him moe,
Now Hygalac's stout Kinsman held his fore-paw so!
Was each unto the other alive a loathly thing.
A body-sore he gat there, this wretched Ogreling:
There showed upon his shoulder a cureless wound anon;
His sinews sprang asunder; from socket burst the bone.
To Beowulf was given the glory of the fray;


[lines 1537-1569 in sections XXII and XXIII and 5th line from the bottom of folio 163v, through folio 164r to 4th line from the top of folio 164v on Kevin S. Kiernan's Electronic Beowulf CD] Images of the original manuscript text of this section, and an mp3 file of Ben Slade reading it in Old English, are here. Note: there is a discussion of the word eaxle in line 1537a on my page on Shoulder Grabbing vs. Hair Pulling

    {At this moment Beowulf has just failed to hurt Grendel's mother with the sword Hrunting and he tries to wrestle her as he had done with Grendel. }

The might of his old hand-grip. So must a man of pride,
Whenever he bethinks him to win in battle-strife
Praises everlasting, nor careth for his life.
The Chieftain of the Geatfolk, -- who mourned not at the fued, --
Grasped by her mane of hair Grendel's Mother lewd.
This hardy son of battle, -- so did his anger swell, --
Flung the deadly She-Wolf till to ground she fell.
Speedily thereafter, with her grip so grim,
She gave him goodly payment and laid her hold on him.
And then with heart aweary, this Fighter fierce and lone
Stumbled in his footing, that there he tumbled prone.
Then on the Stranger in her hall The Mother squatted down,
And forth she drew her dagger, broad of blade and brown.
She would wreak her bairn now, her only child this day;
But on the Geatman's shoulders the woven breast-mail lay,
And that withstood the inthrust of point and edge at last.
For then the son of Ecgtheow to under-earth had passed,
had not his battle-byrnie, his war-mesh stout and broad,
To him its help y-given, and had not holy God,
The Ruler, he, of Heaven, justly swayed the fight --
The wise Lord with his award -- when Beowulf stood upright.
For saw he 'mongst the war-gear one victorious bill,
An old sword of ettins, with edges doughty still,
The pick and choice of weapons, a warsman's prize indeed;
But more than any other man might bear in battle-need --
Good and brave to look on, the giants' handicraft.
The Bold One of the Scyldings he seized its belted haft;
And, battle-grim and savage, the ringéd blade he drew;
And, of his life all hopeless, in fury smote so true
That it gripped her sorely unto the neck, oho!
And brake in twain its bone-rings. The sword was keen to go
Athrough her dooméd body. She crumpled in the murk.
The old sword was bloody. The Hero liked his work.


[lines 1584b-1590 in section XXIII and 7th line from the bottom of folio 164v to first half of the last line of folio 164v on Kevin S. Kiernan's Electronic Beowulf CD] Images of the original manuscript text of this section, and an mp3 file of Ben Slade reading it in Old English, are here.

    {At this moment Beowulf has just discovered Grendel's lifeless body lying in the cave. }

  For Beowulf, the dread,
Paid him his award for that, where he beheld on bed
Grendel, the battle-weary, lying lorn of life,
Ev'n by scathe he'd gotten in Heorot at the strife.
The corpse did spring asunder; it dreed a blow, though dead,
Oho, a swinging war-stroke, -- and off was carved the head!


[lines 2672b-2708a in sections XXXVI and XXXVII and 8th line from the bottom of folio 189A197r, through folio 189A197v to 3rd line from the top of folio 189r on Kevin S. Kiernan's Electronic Beowulf CD] Images of the original manuscript text of this section, and an mp3 file of Ben Slade reading it in Old English, are here.

    {At this moment, Wiglaf has just run into the flames to be by Beowulf's side and the dragon has charged at them both, incinerating Wiglaf's shield. }

  Was burnt in waves of fire
His buckler to the very boss. Nor yet his byrnie might
Serve to shelter Wiglaf, the young Spear-Wight.
So dodged the Youth right speedily his Kinsman's shield behind,
Now his own was all consumed by the fury-wind.
Then again the War-King his glory called to mind,
And smote he then by main-strength with his battle-glaive,
That, under impulse of his hate, to the head it drave.
But Naegling was shivered: failed him in the fray,
This sword of Beowulf, etched and old and gray.
To him it was not given that any edge of brand
Him could help in battle; so strong his arm and hand,
As I have heard the story, that every blade so'er
He overtaxed in swinging it, when he to battle bare
A weapon wondrous hardy. "Twould stead him not a whit.
Then was the People-Scather, a third time too,
This bold Fire-Dragon, mindful to do;
He rushed upon the Hero, where his chance was fit,
Hot and battle-ugly. All the neck he bit
With his bitter fang-teeth. To death the Geat was hurt,
Bloodied o'er with his own gore, in welling wave and spurt.
   
Then at the need of Beowulf, as I heard tell,
The Jarlman upstanding proved his prowess well,
His craft and his keenness, as his indeed by birth.
He made not for the Monster's head; but in his will and worth,
His hand was all but burnt away, the while he helped his Kin,
As pierce he did the flamy Drake from under, up and in, --
This Hero in his harness. Deep the sword it ran,
Gleaming and gold-dight. And the fire began
To slacken thereafter. The King himself once more
Girt his wits together. His war-knife he drew,
Biting and battle-sharp, which on his sark he wore.
The Weder down in the middle then slit the Worm in two.
So they felled the Dragon, the fiery head and wings,
The dauntless twain the Pest had slain, Kinsman-Aethelings.

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