VI
Hrothgar spoke, the Shield of the Scyldings:
"I knew him when he was a boy.
His old father was Ecgetheow,
and Hrethel the Geat gave him his daughter,
his only girl. This is their offspring
bravely seeking our steadfast friendship.
More, the sailors who took to the Geats
our gifts of friendship, they have said
that he has the strength of thirty men
in each of his hands. Holy God
has sent him here to give us hope
against Grendel's terror; I must offer
kingly treasures to reward his daring.
Hurry and order that band of kinsmen
here to my presence, and welcome them kindly
as my guests in the land of Denmark."
Wulfar returned and told the Geats:
"My lord knows your name and your story,
and you who bravely rode the sea-whelm
are welcomed here. Now you may enter
in your armour and visored helms,
but leave your spears and shields behind you."
The great prince rose, his thanes around him,
bidding some stay to guard the war-gear,
and hurried to Heorot. Sternly he spoke there.
His mail-coat, made by master smiths
with skilful labour, gleamed in the great hall.
"Greetings, Hrothgar. I am Hygelac's
kinsman and warrior. When I was young
I did many great deeds, and now I hear
far in my homeland of Grendel's evil.
Seafarers say that Heorot stands
empty and dull when the evening star
hides under heaven, although it was built,
highest of halls, for every man.
My people told me, the wisest among them,
that I should seek you, kingly Hrothgar,
for they know the strength of my hands.
They have seen me back from battle
stained with foe-blood, binding five.
I destroyed a house of ogres
and in night's darkness slaughtered sea trolls.
I've survived through many sufferings,
avenged base insult done the Geats,
crushing men who courted woe.
And now I'm here to settle Grendel.
I'll kill the troll with my bare hands
in single combat. I ask you now,
king of the Bright-Danes, noble protector
of the Scyldings, a single kindness.
Do not refuse me, for I've come far.
I alone, with my band of thanes,
my noble warriors, will cleanse this hall.
I've also heard that this reckless demon
scorns edged weapons. I scorn him for it,
but to bring joy to Hygelac's heart,
my proud king, I'll bear no sword,
no yellow shield shall protect me.
My grip will be the end of Grendel,
I'll put my trust in God's judgment
to deal death justly. If Grendel wins
and feasts on Geats, as he has eaten
many great warriors, you'll have no need
of funeral shrouds – he'll gladly bear
my gory body off to the moorlands.
If I am beaten, send my mail-coat,
the best of death-shrouds, back to Hygelac.
It's Wayland's work, a legend's making,
his father's mail as it is mine.
Fate works as she must."
--
Editor, Masthead: http://www.masthead.net.au
Blog: http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com
Home page: http://www.alisoncroggon.com
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