What is Beowulf ?
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Alliteration
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; Astrid Anand
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1830 W. Taylor
1849 H. W. Longfellow
1884 John Gibb
1901 George T. Tobin
1904 Clara L. Thomson
1907 Wentworth Huyshe
1908 J. R. Skelton
1941 Rolf Klep
1947 Laszlo Matulay
1996 Simon Noyes
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Liuzza (270 words)
H. Sweet (650 words)
Lesslie Hall (600 words)
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Emma Roller (2006)
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Thomas C. Kennedy (2001)
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Clara Linklater Thomson (1904)
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W. K. Thomas (1968)
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J. R. R. Tolkien (193?)
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A.D. Wackerbarth (1849)
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1805/1852 Sharon Turner
1826 John Josias Conybeare
1837 John Mitchell Kemble
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1865 Benjamin Thorpe
1876 Thomas Arnold
1882 James M. Garnett
1883 H.W. Lumsden
1884 John Gibb
1886 G. Cox, E. H. Jones
1892 John Earl
1892 Lesslie Hall
1898 William Morris & A. J. Wyatt
1901 Samuel Harden Church
1901 Zenaïde A. Ragozin
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1904 Clara Linklater Thomson
1904 Clarence Griffin Child
1905 Florence Holbrook
1907 Wentworth Huyshe
1908 H. E. Marshall
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1910 Francis B. Gummere
1911 John R. Clark Hall
1913 Ernest J. B. Kirtlan
1917 Wagner & MacDowall
1918 A. J. Church
1921 Charles Scott Moncrieff
1923 William Ellery Leonard
1923/1992 Robert Kay Gordon
1925 Albert C. Baugh
1925 Archibald Strong
1926 D. H. Crawford
1927 Robert Shafer
1927 J. Duncan Spaeth
1929 G. H. Gerould
1933 Harry Morgan Ayres
1934 Strafford Riggs
1935 A. Wigfall Green
193? J. R. R. Tolkien
1940 Charles W. Kennedy
1941 E. V. Sandys
1946 Gavin Bone
1947 Dorothy Hosford
1951 Hazelton Spencer
1952 Edwin Morgan
1954 Ian Serraillier
1957 David Wright
1962 Gladys Schmitt
1963 Burton Raffel
1963 William Alfred
1965 Lucien Dean Pearson
1966 E. Talbot Donaldson
1967 Constance B. Hieatt
1968 Robert Nye
1968 W. K. Thomas
1971 Frederick Rebsamen
1971 G. N. Garmonsway
1973 Michael Alexander
1977 Howell D. Chickering Jr.
1978 Albert W. Haley
1978 Michael Swanton
1980 Maurice Sagoff
1982 K. Crossley-Holland (kids)
1982 S. A. J. Bradley
1982 Stanley B. Greenfield
1983 Marijane Osborn
1984 Gildas Roberts
1985 Donald A. MacKenzie
1985 M. I. Ebbutt
1987 Bernard F. Huppe
1987 Julian Glover
1988 Ruth P.M. Lehmann
1990 Barry Tharaud
1990 Marc Hudson
1990 Raymond Oliver
1991/2004 Frederick Rebsamen
1993 John Porter
1994 E. L. Risden
1995 Paula Grant
1995 Donald A. MacKenzie
1996 Tessa Potter
1998 Richard M. Trask
1999 David Breeden
1999 K. Crossley-Holland (text)
2000 Bertha Rogers
2000 Roy M. Liuzza
2000 Seamus Heaney
2000 Felix Nobis
2000 Tim Romano
2001 Thomas C. Kennedy
2002 Ben Slade
2002 Louis J. Rodrigues
2004 A. Sullivan & T. Murphy
2005 Eric A. Kimmel
2005 John McNamara
[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.