Part 3- The Arrival of the Hero

Then they sailed, set their ship
Out on the waves.
The wind hurried them over the waves,
The ship foamed through the sea like a bird
They could see sparkling hills, high and green
In those rock-steep cliffs they quietly ended
Their voyage. Jumping to the ground, the Geats
Pushed their boat to the sand and tied it.
And then they gave thanks to God for their easy crossing.
High on the wall a Danish watcher
Patrolling along the cliffs saw
The travelers crossing to the shore, their shield raised and shining.
Shaking his heavy spear
In their faces he spoke:
“Whose soldiers are you,
You who’ve been carried in your ship
Across the sea to this country of mine?
None have ever come more openly –
And yet you’ve offered no password, no sign
From my prince, no permission from my people.
You! Tell me your name,
And your father’s. Tell it,
And tell it quickly, the quicker the better.

Their leader answered him, Beowulf unlocking words from deep in his breast:
“We are Geats, Men who follow Higlaf. My father
Was a famous soldier, known far and wide
As a leader of men. His name was Edgetho.
And we have come seeking your prince, Healfdane’s son, protector of this people.
Our errand is a great one, our business with the glorious king of the Danes no secret.
You know that your country is cursed with some strange, vicious creature.
Perhaps Hrothgar can hunt, here in my heart,
For some way to drive this devil out –
If anything will ever end the evils
Afflicting your wise and famous lord.
Here he can cool his burning sorrow.

The mounted officer
Answered him bluntly, the brave watchman:
“A soldier should know the difference between words
And deeds, and keep that knowledge clear
In his brain. I believe your words, I trust in
Your friendship. Go forward!

Then Wulfgar went to the door and addressed
The waiting seafarers with soldier’s words:
“My lord, the great king of the Danes, commands me
To tell you that he knows of your noble birth
And that having come to him from over the open
Sea you have come bravely and are welcome.”
Now go to him as you are, in your armor and helmets,
But leave your battle-shields here, and your spears,
Let them lie waiting for the promises your words
May make.”
Beowulf arose, with his men
Around him, ordering a few to remain
With their weapons, leading the others quickly
Along under Herot’s steep roof into Hrothgar’s
Presence. He greeted the Danes’ great lord:
“Hail, Hrothgar!
Higlac is my cousin and my king; the days
Of my youth have been filled with glory. Now Grendel’s
Name has echoed in our land: Sailors
Have brought us stories of Herot, the best
Of all mead-halls, deserted and useless when the moon
Hangs in skies the sun had lit,
Light and life fleeing together.
My people have said, the wisest, most knowing
And best of them, that my duty was to go to the Danes’
Great king. They have seen my strength for themselves,
Have watched me rise from the darkness of war,
Dripping with my enemies’ blood. I drove
Five great giants into chains, chased
All of that race from the earth. I swam
In the blackness of night, hunting monsters
Out of the ocean, and killing them one
By one; death was my errand and the fate
They had earned. Now Grendel and I are called
Together, and I’ve come. Grant me, then,
Lord and protector of this noble place,
A single request! I have come so far,
Oh shelterer of warriors and your people’s loved friend,
That this one favor you should not refuse me—
That I, alone and with the help of my men,
May purge all evil from this hall. I have heard,
Too, that the monster’s scorn of men
Is so great that he needs no weapons and fears none.
Nor will I. My hands
Alone shall fight for me, struggle for life
Against the monster. God must decide
Who will be given to death’s cold grip.
Grendel’s plan, I think, will be
What it has been before, to invade this hall

And gorge his belly with our bodies. If he can,
If he can. And I think, if my time will have come,
There’ll be nothing to mourn over, no corpse to prepare
For its grave: Grendel will carry our bloody
Flesh, and crunch on our bones. No, I expect no Danes
Will fret about sewing our shrouds, if he wins.
And if death does take me, send my armor to Higlac, return
The inheritance I had from Hrethel,°
Hrothgar replied, protector of the Danes:
“Beowulf, you’ve come to us in friendship.
My tongue grows heavy,
And my heart, when I try to tell you what Grendel
Has brought us, the damage he’s done, here
In this hall. Surely the Lord Almighty
Could stop his madness, smother his lust!
How many times have my men, glowing
With courage drawn from too many cups
Of ale, sworn to stay after dark
And stem that horror with a sweep of their swords.
And then, in the morning, this mead-hall glittering
With new light would be drenched with blood, the benches
Stained red, the floors, all wet from that fiend’s
Savage assault—and my soldiers would be fewer
Still, death taking more and more.
But to table, Beowulf, a banquet in your honor:
Let us toast your victories, and talk of the future.”
Then Hrothgar’s men gave places to the Geats,
Yielded benches to the brave visitors,
And led them to the feast. The keeper of the mead
Came carrying out the carved flasks,
And poured that bright sweetness. A poet
Sang, from time to time, in a clear
Pure voice. Danes and visiting Geats
Celebrated as one, drank and rejoiced