Alison,
 
I've been saving this for when I had some time to spend with it.  I only have a dated version of Beowulf (1940, OUP) and keep meaning to get a version that has the original alongside the transcription/interpretation.  The version I have has bogged me down in its therefores and thereins.
I have enjoyed this though.  You're doing a fine job.
 
 
Tina
 
-------------------------------------------------------------- [log in to unmask] http://www.fatmandancing.co.uk http://www.myspace.com/fat_man_dancing > Date: Fri, 21 Nov 2008 12:26:57 +1100> From: [log in to unmask]> Subject: A fitt> To: [log in to unmask]> > This year I've spent some time idly translating Beowulf (using a> couple of literal translations and a lexicon - I don't have Anglo> Saxon). I've done about a third. Anyway, I thought some of you might> be interested in the first fitt.> > xA> > I> > Hear me! I will tell of the Spear-Danes,> how their clan-kings in the old days> earned glory through great deeds.> > Scef's son Scyld harried his neighbours,> seizing the halls of hosts of foes.> If he arrived here empty-handed> he found balm in battle's booty,> waxing rich in the sky's dominion,> heavy with honours. Every tribe> along the whale road paid him tribute.> He was a good king and God sent him> a greater heir to heal the people> who languished leaderless, poor and fearful.> Beaw came then, famed in the north,> and the great Life-Giver granted Scyld's heir> honour on earth. So should a young man> work good deeds in his father's shadow,> open-handed gather the thanks> that in old age will earn him all> his loyal companions. His fiery deeds> will warm the people and when war comes> they'll then stand true.> When destiny called him,> still in his strength, Scyld departed> on his last voyage, shadowed and lonely,> to Frea's kingdom. His dearest friends> carried him then to the surf-webbed water> as he had told them when his tongue> wielded words, beloved ruler,> long friend of the Scyldings.> At harbour rode> a hero's vessel, icy and keen,> and there they rested under the mast> his mighty body, mourning the loss> of the loved ring-giver. Around him they laid> treasure to honour him: ornate armour> and precious trinkets from far-off lands.> The warlike keel was dressed with weapons,> two-edged swords and well-wrought mail,> and on his breast they set the brightest.> I have not heard that a richer deathship> ever drifted off into darkness.> His grateful nation sent him off rightly,> he who arrived alone on the waves,> a child with destiny in his hands> and nothing else. Last they set a golden banner> high above him, and loosed the ship> to the ocean's whims, watching it dwindle> with troubled hearts. Hero or wise man,> no one can say who found that cargo.> > After his loved father left him,> Beaw the Scylding ruled his people> wisely and long, and bore the Half-Dane,> who in his turn was king of his people> into his battle-scarred old age.> And from the Half-Dane sprang four children,> Heorogar, Hrothgar and good Halga,> and Yrse, whom I heard was queen> of the War-Scylfings, Onela's bedmate.> After him Hrothgar, skilled in warcraft,> won men's hearts so his young band grew> mighty and feared and honoured in war.> Then Hrothgar envisioned a mighty hall,> a high-eaved house where all would gather> at the gift-giving and music making,> a marvel to tell for men hereafter.> Many peoples of middle earth> were called and came to build this folk-hall> and at last it was fully finished,> the highest of houses. Hrothgar named it> Heorot, hall of the royal stag,> and royally dealt out rings at his feasts> as he had promised. Before cruel fire> ate its horned gables, before edged malice> broke the bloodbond, it stood high:> then the bold soul, weary of darkness,> sat at the table and fed his heart.> Revelry then rose loud in the mead-hall,> the harp's clear song and the poet's singing.> Those with word-craft told the folk> of the birth of man and the world's making,> of how the great one wrought the earth,> these shining plains ringed with water,> and set above them the sun and moon,> luminous lamps for land-dwellers,> and furnished every earthly region> with limbs and leaves. He made life too,> every creature that breathes and moves.> > So the lord's men lived in gladness,> until a demon came upon them> with bloody crimes. His name was Grendel,> stalker of marshes, moors and fens> where the Maker had banished him> with all his line, the sons of Cain,> the first kin-killer, father of monsters.> When Cain murdered his brother Abel> God drove him deep into dim reaches> far from his sight. And from him sprang> the monstrous races, ogres and elves,> underworld spirits and ugly giants,> who dared to strive with God. And God> rewarded them as was their due.> > > -- > Editor, Masthead: http://www.masthead.net.au> Blog: http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com> Home page: http://www.alisoncroggon.com