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<v Speaker 1>This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in

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<v Speaker 1>the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit

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<v Speaker 1>LibriVox dot org. Recorded by Kirsten Ferrari, Los Angeles, California,

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<v Speaker 1>August two thousand six. Beowulf, translated by Francis Barton Gumare

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<v Speaker 1>Section eight Twas now men say in his sovereign's need,

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<v Speaker 1>that the earl made known his noble strain, craft and

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<v Speaker 1>keenness and courage, enduring, heedless of harm. Though his hand

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<v Speaker 1>was burned, hardy hearted, he helped his kinsman a little

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<v Speaker 1>lower the loathsome beast he smote with his sword. His

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<v Speaker 1>steel drove in bright and burnished. That blaze began to

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<v Speaker 1>lose and lessen. At last the king wielded his wits

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<v Speaker 1>again war knife, drew a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,

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<v Speaker 1>and the wedder's helm smoke that warm asunder felled. The

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<v Speaker 1>foe flung for or its life, so had they killed it.

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<v Speaker 1>Kinsmen both athelings twain, Thus an earl should be in

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<v Speaker 1>danger's day of deeds of valor. This conqueror's hour of

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<v Speaker 1>the king was last of his work in the world.

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<v Speaker 1>The wound began, which that dragon of Earth had erst

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<v Speaker 1>inflicted to swell and smart, and soon he found in

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<v Speaker 1>his breast was boiling, baleful and deep pain of poison.

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<v Speaker 1>The prince walked on wise in his thought to the

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<v Speaker 1>wall of rock, then sat and stared at the structure

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<v Speaker 1>of Giants, where arch of stone and steadfast column upheld

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<v Speaker 1>forever that hall in earth. Yet here must the hand

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<v Speaker 1>of the henchman, peerless, lave with water his winsome lord,

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<v Speaker 1>the king and conqueror, covered with blood, with struggle spent

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<v Speaker 1>and unspan his helmet. Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt,

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<v Speaker 1>his mortal wound full well. He knew his portion now

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<v Speaker 1>was past and gone of earthly bliss, and all had

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<v Speaker 1>fled of his file of days, and death was near.

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<v Speaker 1>I would fain be stow on, son of mine. This

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<v Speaker 1>gear of war were given me, now that any air

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<v Speaker 1>should after me come of my proper blood. This people

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<v Speaker 1>I ruled fifty winters. No folk king was there, none

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<v Speaker 1>at all of the neighboring clans who war would wage

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<v Speaker 1>me with warrior's friends and threaten me with horrors at home.

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<v Speaker 1>I bided what fate might come, and I cared for

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<v Speaker 1>mine own feuds. I sought not, nor falsely swore ever

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<v Speaker 1>on oath for all these things. Though fatally wounded, fain

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<v Speaker 1>am I from the ruler of man. No wrath shall

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<v Speaker 1>seize me, when life from my frame must flee away

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<v Speaker 1>for killing of kinsmen. Now quickly go and gaze on

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<v Speaker 1>that hoard beneath the hoary rock wiglff loved. Now the

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<v Speaker 1>worm lies low, sleeps, heart sore of his spoil, bereaved

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<v Speaker 1>and fair in haste, I would fain behold the gorgeous

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<v Speaker 1>heirloom's golden store, have joy in the jewels and gems,

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<v Speaker 1>lay down softlier for sight of this splendid hoard. My

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<v Speaker 1>life and lordship I long have held. I have heard

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<v Speaker 1>that swiftly the son of Wherston at wish and word

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<v Speaker 1>of his wounded king, war sick warrior, woven mail coat,

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<v Speaker 1>battle sark boorneath the barrow's roof. Then the clansmen, keen

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<v Speaker 1>of conquest, proud, passing the seat, saw a store of

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<v Speaker 1>jewels and glistening gold. The ground. Along by the wall

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<v Speaker 1>were marvels and many a vessel in the den of

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<v Speaker 1>the dragon. The dawn flier old unburnished bowls of bygone men,

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<v Speaker 1>reft of richness, rusty helms of the olden age, and

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<v Speaker 1>arm rings many wondrously woven. Such wealth of gold booty

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<v Speaker 1>from barrow can burden with pride each human white. Let

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<v Speaker 1>him hide it, who will? His glance too, fell on

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<v Speaker 1>a gold wove banner high o'er the Horde of handiwork, noblest,

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<v Speaker 1>brilliantly broidered, so bright its gleam all the earth floor.

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<v Speaker 1>He easily saw and viewed all these vessels. No vestige

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<v Speaker 1>now was seen of the serpent. The sword had taken him.

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<v Speaker 1>Then I heard the hill of its hoard was reft

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<v Speaker 1>old work of giants by one alone. He burdened his

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<v Speaker 1>bosom with beakers and plate at his his own good will,

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<v Speaker 1>and the ensign took brightest of beacons, the blade of

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<v Speaker 1>his lord, its edge was iron, had injured deep one

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<v Speaker 1>that had guarded the golden Horde many a year, and

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<v Speaker 1>its murder fires spread hot round the barrow in horror

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<v Speaker 1>billows at midnight hour, till it met its doom. Hastened

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<v Speaker 1>the herald. The horde so spurred him his track to retrace.

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<v Speaker 1>He was troubled by doubt. High souled hero, if haply

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<v Speaker 1>he'd find alive where he left him, the lord of waiters,

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<v Speaker 1>weakening fast by the wall of the cave. So he

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<v Speaker 1>carried the load his lord and king. He found all

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<v Speaker 1>bleeding famous chief at the lapse of life. The liegeman

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<v Speaker 1>again plashed him with water till point of word broke

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<v Speaker 1>through the breast hord. Beowulf spake sage and sad as

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<v Speaker 1>he stared at the gold, for the gold and treasure,

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<v Speaker 1>to God, my thanks to the wielder of wonders. With

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<v Speaker 1>words I say for what I behold, to Heaven's Lord,

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<v Speaker 1>for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk,

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<v Speaker 1>or ever the day of my death be run. Now

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<v Speaker 1>I've bartered here for booty of treasure, the last of

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<v Speaker 1>my life. So look ye well to the needs of

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<v Speaker 1>my land. No longer I tarry a barrow. Bid ye

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<v Speaker 1>the battle fand raise for my ashes. Twill shine by

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<v Speaker 1>the shore of the flood to folk of mine. Memorial

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<v Speaker 1>fare on Ron's head land high uplifted that ocean. Wanderers

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<v Speaker 1>oft may hail Beowulf's sparrow, as back from far they

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<v Speaker 1>drive their keels o'er the darkling wave from his neck.

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<v Speaker 1>He unclasped the collar of gold valorous king to his vassal,

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<v Speaker 1>gave it with bright gold helmet, breastplate and ring to

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<v Speaker 1>the youthful Thane. Bade him use them in joy. Thou

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<v Speaker 1>art end and remnant of all our race. The wagmunding

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<v Speaker 1>name for word, hath swept them all my line to

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<v Speaker 1>the land of doom earls in their glory, Aye after

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<v Speaker 1>them go. This word was the last which the wise

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<v Speaker 1>old man harbored in heart ere hot death, waves of

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<v Speaker 1>bale fire he chose from his bosom, fled his soul

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<v Speaker 1>to seek the saint's reward. It was heavy hap for

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<v Speaker 1>that hero young on his lord beloved to look and

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<v Speaker 1>find him lying on earth with life at end sorrowful sight.

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<v Speaker 1>But the slayer, too awful earth dragon, empty of breath,

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<v Speaker 1>lay felt in fight, nor fain of its treasure. Could

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<v Speaker 1>the writhing monster rule it more. For edges of iron

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<v Speaker 1>had ended its days hard in battle, sharp hammers leaving,

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<v Speaker 1>and that flier Afar had fallen to the ground, hushed

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<v Speaker 1>by its hurt, its hoard all near no longer lusty

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<v Speaker 1>aloft to whirl at midnight, making its merriment seen proud

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<v Speaker 1>of its prizes, prone it sank by the handiwork of

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<v Speaker 1>the hero king forsooth among folk, but few achieve, though

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<v Speaker 1>sturdy and strong, as stories tell me, and never so daring,

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<v Speaker 1>indeed of valor, the perilous breath of a poisoned foe

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<v Speaker 1>to brave and to rush on the ring board hall,

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<v Speaker 1>whenever his watch the warden keeps bold in the barrow.

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<v Speaker 1>Beowulf paid the price of death for that precious horde,

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<v Speaker 1>and each of the foes had found the end of

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<v Speaker 1>this fleeting life. Befell ere long that the laggards and

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<v Speaker 1>wore the way Wood had left. Trothbreakers cowards tend together,

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<v Speaker 1>fearing before to flourish a spear in the sore distress

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<v Speaker 1>of their sovereign lord. Now in their shame their shields

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<v Speaker 1>they carried armor of fight. Where the old man lay,

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<v Speaker 1>and they gazed on Wiglaf wearied, he sat at his

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<v Speaker 1>sovereign's shoulder. Shieldsmen good to wake him with water. No

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<v Speaker 1>wise it availed, though well he wished it in world.

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<v Speaker 1>No more could he bury her life for that leader

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<v Speaker 1>of battles, nor baffle the will of all wielding god,

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<v Speaker 1>doom of the Lord was law, or the deeds of

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<v Speaker 1>every man, as it is to day grim was the

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<v Speaker 1>answer easy to get from the youth for those that

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<v Speaker 1>had yielded to fear Wiglaf spoke the son of Waeosten, mournful.

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<v Speaker 1>He looked on those men unloved, who sooth will speak,

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<v Speaker 1>can say indeed that the ruler who gave you golden

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<v Speaker 1>rings and the harness of war in which you stand

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<v Speaker 1>for he at ale bench oftentimes bestowed on hal folk

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<v Speaker 1>helm and breastplate lord to Liegemen. The likeliest gear which

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<v Speaker 1>nearer or far he could find to give, threw away

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<v Speaker 1>and wasted these weeds of battle on men who failed

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<v Speaker 1>when the foemen came. Not at all could the king

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<v Speaker 1>of his comrades in arms venture to vaunt, though the

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<v Speaker 1>victory wielder God gave him grace that he got revenge

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<v Speaker 1>soul with his sword in stress and need to rescue

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<v Speaker 1>his life, twas little that I could serve him in struggle.

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<v Speaker 1>Yet shift I made hopeless it seemed to help my kinsmen.

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<v Speaker 1>Its strength ever, waned when with weapon I struck that

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<v Speaker 1>fatal foe, and the fire less strongly flowed from its head.

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<v Speaker 1>Too few the heroes in Throe of contest that thronged

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<v Speaker 1>to our king, now gift of treasure and girding of sword,

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<v Speaker 1>joy of the house and home delight shall fail your

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<v Speaker 1>folk his freehold land. Every clansman within your kin shall

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<v Speaker 1>lose and leave when lords high born here afar of

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<v Speaker 1>that flight of yours a fameless deed. Yea death is

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<v Speaker 1>better for liegemen all than a life of shame. That

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<v Speaker 1>battle toil bade he at Burg to announce at the

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<v Speaker 1>fort on the cliff, where full of sorrow, all the

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<v Speaker 1>morning earls had sat daring shieldsmen in doubt of twain.

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<v Speaker 1>Would they wail as dead or welcome home their lord

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<v Speaker 1>beloved little kept back of the tidings new, but told

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<v Speaker 1>them all the herald that up the Headland road, now

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<v Speaker 1>the willing giver to weder folk. In death bed lies

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<v Speaker 1>the Lord of Gates. On the slaughter bed sleeps by

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<v Speaker 1>the serpent's deed, And beside him is stretched that slayer

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<v Speaker 1>of men, with knife wounds sick. No sword availed on

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<v Speaker 1>the awesome thing in any wise to work a wound.

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<v Speaker 1>Their wig laugh sitteth Whilston's barren by Beowulf's side, the

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<v Speaker 1>living earl by the other dead and heavy of heart,

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<v Speaker 1>a head watch keeps or friend and foe. Now our

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<v Speaker 1>folk may look for waging of war when, once unhidden

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<v Speaker 1>to Frisian and Frank, the fall of the king is

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<v Speaker 1>spread afar. The strife began when hot on the Hugos

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<v Speaker 1>Hagelac fell and fared with his fleet to the Frisian

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<v Speaker 1>land him. There the hetwaras humbled in more plied with

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<v Speaker 1>such prowess, their power overwhelming that the bold in battle

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<v Speaker 1>bowed beneath it and fell in fight. To his friends,

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<v Speaker 1>no one could that earl give treasure, And ever since

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<v Speaker 1>the Marrowing's favor has failed us wholly nor aught. Expect

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<v Speaker 1>I of peace and faith from Swedish folk. Twas spread afar,

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<v Speaker 1>how ungan thou reft at ravenswood hyketh ANDed brethling of

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<v Speaker 1>hope and life. When the folk of Gates for the

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<v Speaker 1>first time sought in wanton pride, the warlike skilfings. Soon

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<v Speaker 1>the sage old sire of Altaire, ancient and awful, gave

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<v Speaker 1>answering blow the sea king he slew and his spouse redeemed.

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<v Speaker 1>His good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold, Mother

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<v Speaker 1>of Oterr and onela. Then he followed his foes, who

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<v Speaker 1>fled before him sore beset, and stole their way, bereft

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<v Speaker 1>of a ruler, to Ravenswood. With his host, he besieged

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<v Speaker 1>there what swords had left, the weary and wounded woes.

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<v Speaker 1>He threatened the whole night through to that hard pressed throng.

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<v Speaker 1>Some with the morrow his swords should kill, some should

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<v Speaker 1>go to the gallows tree for rapture of ravens. But

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<v Speaker 1>rescue came with dawn of day for those desperate men,

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<v Speaker 1>when they heard the horn of high glax sound tones

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<v Speaker 1>of his trumpet. The trusty king had followed their trail

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<v Speaker 1>with faithful band. The bloody swath of Swedes and gates

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<v Speaker 1>and the storm of their strife were seen afar. How

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<v Speaker 1>folk against folk, the fight had wakened. The ancient king,

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<v Speaker 1>with his atheling band, sought his citadel, sorrowing much onganho

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<v Speaker 1>earl went up to his burg. He had tested Heiglac's hardihood.

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<v Speaker 1>The proud one's prowess would prove it no longer defied

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<v Speaker 1>no more those fighting wanderers. Nor hoped from the seamen

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<v Speaker 1>to save his hoard, his baron, and his bride, so

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<v Speaker 1>he bent him again old to his earth walls. Yet

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<v Speaker 1>after him came with slaughter for swedes the standards of

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<v Speaker 1>Hyglac over peaceful plains in pride, advancing till threthlings fought

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<v Speaker 1>in the fenced town. Then onganhoe with edge of sword,

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<v Speaker 1>the hoary bearded was held at bay, and the fulk

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<v Speaker 1>king there was forced to suffer yeofor's anger in ire

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<v Speaker 1>at the king wolf wanderting with weapons struck, and the

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<v Speaker 1>chieftain's blood for that blow in streams flowed neath his hair.

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<v Speaker 1>No fear felt he stout old skilfing, but straightway repaid

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<v Speaker 1>in better bargain that bitter stroke, and faced his foe

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<v Speaker 1>with fell intent. Nor swift enough was the son of

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<v Speaker 1>one rid answer to render the aged chief too soon

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<v Speaker 1>on his head, the helm was cloven, blood bedecked. He

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<v Speaker 1>bowed to earth and fell adown. Not doomed was he yet,

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<v Speaker 1>and well he waxed, though the wound was sore. Then

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<v Speaker 1>the hardy haigilac Fane, when his brother fell with broad brand,

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<v Speaker 1>smote Giant's sword, crashing through Giant's helm across the shield wall,

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<v Speaker 1>sank the king, his folk's old herdsman fatally hurt. There

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<v Speaker 1>were many to bind the brother's wounds and lift him fast,

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<v Speaker 1>as fate allowed his people to wield the place of war.

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<v Speaker 1>But yeofor took from Ungenthal earl from other the iron breastplate,

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<v Speaker 1>hard sword, hilted and helmet too, and the hoar chief's

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<v Speaker 1>harness to Higelac carried, who took the trappings and truly

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<v Speaker 1>promised rich fee mid folk, and fulfilled it. So for

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<v Speaker 1>that grim strike gave the Gaetish lord Rethel's offspring. When

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<v Speaker 1>home he came to Yofor and Wolf a wealth of treasure.

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<v Speaker 1>Each of them had a hundred thousand in land and

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<v Speaker 1>linked rings, nor at less price reckoned mid earth men

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<v Speaker 1>such mighty deeds. And to Yofor he gave his only

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<v Speaker 1>daughter in pledge of grace the pride of his home.

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<v Speaker 1>Such is the feud, the foeman's rage, death, hate of men.

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<v Speaker 1>So I deem it sure that the Swedish folk will

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<v Speaker 1>seek us home for this fall of their friends, the

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<v Speaker 1>fighting Skilfings. When once they learned that our warrior leader

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<v Speaker 1>lifeless lies, who land and hoard ever defended from all

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<v Speaker 1>his foes, furthered his folk's will finished his course a

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<v Speaker 1>hardy hero. Now haste is best that we go to

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<v Speaker 1>gaze on our gatish lord, and bear the bountiful breaker

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<v Speaker 1>of rings to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely shall

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<v Speaker 1>burn with the warrior wealth of jewels, gold untold and

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<v Speaker 1>gained in terror, treasure. At last, with his life obtained,

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<v Speaker 1>all of that booty, the brands shall take fire shall

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<v Speaker 1>eat it. No earl must carry memorial jewel. No maiden

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<v Speaker 1>fair shall breath her nes with noble ring, nay sad

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<v Speaker 1>in spirit, and shorn of her gold oft shall she

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<v Speaker 1>pass o'er paths of exile. Now, our Lord, all laughter

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<v Speaker 1>has laid aside, all mirth and revel. Many a spear

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<v Speaker 1>morning cold shall be clasped, a main lifted aloft, Nor

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<v Speaker 1>shall lilt of harp those warriors wake. But the wan

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<v Speaker 1>hewed raven fain o'er the fallen his feast shall praise

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<v Speaker 1>and boast to the eagle. How bravely he ate when

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<v Speaker 1>he and the wolf were wasting the slain. So he

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<v Speaker 1>told his sorrowful tidings, and little he lied the loyal

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<v Speaker 1>man of word or of work. The warriors rose sad.

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<v Speaker 1>They climbed to the cliff of eagles, went welling with

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<v Speaker 1>tears the wonder to view found on the sand there

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<v Speaker 1>stretched at rest their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings

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<v Speaker 1>of old upon them. Ending day had dawned on the

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<v Speaker 1>doughty one death had seized in woeful slaughter the waiter's king.

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<v Speaker 1>There saw they, besides the strangest, being loathsome lying their

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<v Speaker 1>leader near prone on the field. The fiery dragon, fearful

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<v Speaker 1>fiend with flame, was scorched, reckoned by feet. It was

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<v Speaker 1>fifty measures in length as it lay aloft ere while

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<v Speaker 1>it had reveled by night and anon came back seeking

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<v Speaker 1>its den. Now in death's sure clutch, it had come

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<v Speaker 1>to the end of its earth Hall. Joys by it.

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<v Speaker 1>There stood the stoops and jars dishes lay there, and

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<v Speaker 1>dear decked swords eaten with rest as on Earth's lamp,

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<v Speaker 1>Resting a thousand winters. They waited there for all that heritage, huge,

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<v Speaker 1>that gold of bygone men, was bound by a spell,

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<v Speaker 1>so the treasure hall could be touched by none of

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<v Speaker 1>human kind, save that Heaven's King God himself, might give,

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<v Speaker 1>whom he would helper of heroes, the horde to open

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<v Speaker 1>even such a man, as it seemed to him meet

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<v Speaker 1>perilous path. It proved he trod who heinously hid that

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<v Speaker 1>hall within wealth under wall. Its watcher had killed one

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<v Speaker 1>of a few, and the feud was avenged in woeful fashion.

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<v Speaker 1>Wondrous seems it what manner a man of might and

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<v Speaker 1>valor oft ends his life when the earl no longer

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<v Speaker 1>in mead hall may live with loving friends. So Beowulf,

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<v Speaker 1>when that barrow's wooden he sought, and the struggle himself

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<v Speaker 1>knew not in what wise he should wend from the world.

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<v Speaker 1>At last, for Prince's potent, who placed the gold with

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<v Speaker 1>a curse to doomsday, covered it deep, so that marked

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<v Speaker 1>with sin the man should be hedged with horrors in

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<v Speaker 1>hell bounds fast racked with plagues, who should rob their hoard?

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<v Speaker 1>Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of heaven

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<v Speaker 1>ever had the king kept in view. Wig Laugh, spoke

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<v Speaker 1>the son of Worston, at the mandate of one oft warriors.

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<v Speaker 1>Many sorrow may suffer, and so must we. The people's

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<v Speaker 1>shepherd showed not aught of care for our counsel. King

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<v Speaker 1>beloved that guardian of gold, he should grapple, not urged we,

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<v Speaker 1>but let him lie where he long had been in

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<v Speaker 1>his Earth's hall, waiting at the end of the world,

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<v Speaker 1>the hest of heaven. This hoard is ours, but grievously

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<v Speaker 1>gotten too grim the fate which thither carried our King

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<v Speaker 1>and Lord. I was within there, and all I viewed

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<v Speaker 1>the chambered treasure when chance allowed me, and my path

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<v Speaker 1>was made in no pleasant wise under the earth wall.

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<v Speaker 1>Eager I seized such heap from the hoard as hands

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<v Speaker 1>could bear, and hurriedly carried it hither back to my legion,

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<v Speaker 1>Lord alive, he was still still wielding his wits. The

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<v Speaker 1>wise old man spake much in his sorrow and sent

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<v Speaker 1>you greetings, and bade yet ye build when he breathe

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<v Speaker 1>no more on the place of his bale fire a

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<v Speaker 1>barrow high memorial. Mighty of men, was he worthiest warrior

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<v Speaker 1>wide earth over the while he had joy of his

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<v Speaker 1>jewels and burg Let us set out in haste now

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<v Speaker 1>the second time, to see and search this store of treasure.

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<v Speaker 1>These wall hid wonders the way I show you where

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<v Speaker 1>gathered near, ye may gaze your fill at broad golden rings.

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<v Speaker 1>Let the bier soon made be all in order. When

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<v Speaker 1>out we come our King and Captain, to carry thither

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<v Speaker 1>man beloved, where long he shall bide safe in the

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<v Speaker 1>shelter of Sovrn God. Then the Baron of Worston bade

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<v Speaker 1>command hardy chief to heroes, many that owned their homesteads

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<v Speaker 1>hither to bring firewood from far or the folk. They

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<v Speaker 1>ruled for the famed one's funeral, fire shaw devour and

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<v Speaker 1>wan flame's feed on the fearless warrior who oft stood

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<v Speaker 1>stout in the iron shower, when sped from string a

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<v Speaker 1>storm of arrows shot or the shield wall the shaft

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<v Speaker 1>held firm featly feathered, followed the barb And now the sage,

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<v Speaker 1>young son of Weylston seven, chose of the chieftain's thains

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<v Speaker 1>the best. He found that band within and went with

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<v Speaker 1>these warriors. One of eight, under hostile roof in hand,

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<v Speaker 1>one bore a lighted torch and led the way. No

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<v Speaker 1>lots they cast for keeping the horde. When once the

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<v Speaker 1>warriors saw it in hall altogether without a guardian, lying

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<v Speaker 1>there lost and little, they mourned. When they had hastily

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<v Speaker 1>hailed it out, dear bought treasure the dragon. They cast

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<v Speaker 1>the worm or the wall for the wave to take,

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<v Speaker 1>and surges swallowed that shepherd of gems. Then the woven

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<v Speaker 1>gold on a wain was laden countless quite, and the

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<v Speaker 1>king was born hoary hero to Hrone's nest. Then fashioned

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<v Speaker 1>for him the fulk of gates, firm on the earth

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<v Speaker 1>a funeral pile, and hung it with helmets and harness

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<v Speaker 1>of war and breastplates bright as the boon, he asked,

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<v Speaker 1>and they laid it amid the mighty chieftain heroes mourning

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<v Speaker 1>their master dear. Then on the hill that hugest of

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<v Speaker 1>bale fires, the warriors wakened. Wood smoke rose black over blaze,

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<v Speaker 1>and blent was the roar of flame, with weeping. The

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<v Speaker 1>wind was still till the fire had broken, the frame

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<v Speaker 1>of bones hot at the heart. In heavy mood their

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<v Speaker 1>misery moaned they their master's death, wailing her woe. The widow, old,

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<v Speaker 1>her hair upbound for Beowulf's death, sung in her sorrow

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<v Speaker 1>and said full oft she dreaded the doleful days to come,

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<v Speaker 1>deaths a now, and doom of battle and shame. The

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<v Speaker 1>smoke by the sky was devoured. The folk of the

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<v Speaker 1>waiters fashioned there on the headland a barrow broad and

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<v Speaker 1>high by ocean. Farers descried. In ten days time their

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<v Speaker 1>toil had raised it the battle brave's beacon, round brands

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<v Speaker 1>of the pyre a wall they built the worthiest ever

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<v Speaker 1>that wit could prompt in their wisest men, they placed

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<v Speaker 1>in the barrow that precious booty, the rounds and the

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<v Speaker 1>rings they had reft erewhile hardy heroes from hoard in cave,

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<v Speaker 1>trusting the ground with treasure of earls, gold in the

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<v Speaker 1>earth wherever it lies useless to men as of yore.

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<v Speaker 1>It was then about that barrow the battle keen road,

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<v Speaker 1>atheling borne a band of twelve lament to make to

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<v Speaker 1>mourn their king, chant, their dirge, and their chieftain honor.

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<v Speaker 1>They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess worthily witnessed,

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<v Speaker 1>and well it is that men their master friend mightily

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<v Speaker 1>laud heartily love, when hence he goes from life in

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<v Speaker 1>the body forlorn away. Thus made their mourning, the men

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<v Speaker 1>of Gateland for their heroes, passing his hearth. Companions quoth

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<v Speaker 1>that of all the kings of earth, of men, he

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<v Speaker 1>was mildest and most beloved to his kin, the kindest,

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<v Speaker 1>keenest for praise. End of Section eight, End of Beowulf,

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<v Speaker 1>translated by Francis Barton Gomer