Beowulf

by Unknown

Behaviour that’s admired is the path to power among people everywhere.

Grendel was the name of this grim demon haunting the marches, marauding round the heath and the desolate fens; he had dwelt for a time in misery among the banished monsters,

All were endangered; young and old 160 were hunted down by that dark death-shadow who lurked and swooped in the long nights on the misty moors; nobody knows where these reavers from hell roam on their errands.

I have heard moreover that the monster scorns in his reckless way to use weapons; therefore, to heighten Hygelac’s fame and gladden his heart, I hereby renounce sword and the shelter of the broad shield, the heavy war-board: hand-to-hand is how it will be,

Fate goes ever as fate must.”

“Time and again, when the goblets passed and seasoned fighters got flushed with beer they would pledge themselves to protect Heorot and wait for Grendel with whetted swords. But when dawn broke and day crept in over each empty, blood-spattered bench, the floor of the mead-hall where they had feasted would be slick with slaughter. And so they died, faithful retainers, and my following dwindled.

You killed your own kith and kin, so for all your cleverness and quick tongue, you will suffer damnation in the depths of hell.

The fact is, Unferth, if you were truly as keen or courageous as you claim to be Grendel would never have got away with such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king, havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.

Then an extraordinary wail arose, and bewildering fear came over the Danes. Everyone felt it who heard that cry as it echoed off the wall, a God-cursed scream and strain of catastrophe, the howl of the loser, the lament of the hell-serf keening his wound. He was overwhelmed, manacled tight by the man who of all men was foremost and strongest in the days of this life.

Carcass flame swirled and fumed, they stood round the burial mound and howled as heads melted, crusted gashes spattered and ran bloody matter. The glutton element flamed and consumed the dead of both sides. Their great days were gone. Warriors scattered to homes and forts all over Friesland, fewer now, feeling loss of friends.

we are glad to bring this booty from the lake.

booty

the booty he had won.

hehehe

Beowulf spoke: in spite of his wounds, mortal wounds, he still spoke for he well knew his days in the world had been lived out to the end: his allotted time was drawing to a close, death was very near.

They said that of all the kings upon the earth he was the man most gracious and fair-minded, kindest to his people and keenest to win fame.