higerofne, hæl sceawedon.
Hæfde se goda Geata leoda 205
cempan gecorone þara þe he cenoste
findan mihte; fiftyna sum
sundwudu sohte; secg wisade,
Hope of the heathens; they thought of hell
In their mind; they did not know God, 180
The Judge of men’s doings, nor knew they God the Lord,
Nor indeed they knew how to praise the Protector of heavens,
The Lord of glory; woe is to him who must
Through dangerous hostility push a soul
Into the bosom of fire, not hope for solace, 185
Nor change at all! Blessed is he who may
After the death-day seek the Lord
And ask for peace in the Father’s bosom!)
(III) And so Healfdene’s son continually brooded over
The care of the time; no wise man could remove 190
The misery; the hardship that had come upon the people
Was too harsh, loathsome, and long lasting.
It was a grim, dire distress, and the greatest nightmare.
A thane of Hygelac, brave among the Geats,
Then heard at home of Grendel’s deeds. 195
He was the strongest in might of all men
In that time of this life, noble and mighty.
He ordered that a strong ship
Be built for him; he said that he would seek
The war-king, the famous prince, over the sea, 200
Now that for him there was need of men.
The prudent men did not find fault with
The adventure, though he was dear to them.
They urged the valiant one, studied omens.
He had the warriors chosen from the courageous 205
Men of the Geats, those he could find
Most brave. He sought the ship with
Fourteen others. The man skilled in seafaring
lagucræftig mon, landgemyrcu.
Fyrst forð gewat; flota wæs on yðum, 210
bat under beorge. Beornas gearwe
on stefn stigon; streamas wundon,
sund wið sande; secgas bæron
on bearm nacan beorhte frætwe,
guðsearo geatolic; guman ut scufon, 215
weras on wilsið, wudu bundenne.
Gewat þa ofer wægholm winde gefysed
flota fami-heals fugle gelicost,
oð þæt ymb antid oþres dogores
wundenstefna gewaden hæfde, 220
þæt ða liðende land gesawon,
brimclifu blican, beorgas steape,
side sænæssas; þa wæs sund liden,
eoletes æt ende. Þanon up hraðe
Wedera leode on wang stigon, 225
sæwudu sældon; syrcan hrysedon,
guðgewædo; Gode þancedon
þæs þe him yþlade eaðe wurdon.
Þa of wealle geseah weard Scildinga,
se þe holmclifu healdan scolde, 230
beran ofter bolcan beorhte randas,
fyrdsearu fuslicu; hine fyrwyt bræc
modgehygdum, hwæt þa men wæron.
Gewat him þa to waroðe wicge ridan
þegn Hroðgares, þrymmum cwehte 235
mægenwudu mundum, meþelwordum frægn:
“Hwæt syndon ge searohæbbendra,
byrnum werede, þe þus brontne ceol
Showed them how to reach the shore.
In due time the boat was on the waves, 210
Floating under a promontory. The ready warriors
Went up to the prow; the currents swirled,
Water against the sand; the men bore
Into the bosom of the boat bright weapons,
Splendid armors. The men pushed the ship forward, 215
The tight-braced vessel ready for desired journey.
Then over the sea, impelled by the wind,
The foamy-necked ship launched most like a bird,
Till after due time on the second day
The ship with a curved prow had made advance, 220
So that the seafarers could see the land,
The gleaming sea-cliff, the steep hills,
Large headlands. The sea had been traversed;
The voyage was over. Thence up quickly
The people of Geatland stepped onto the land, 225
And moored the ship. The mail-coats rattled,
The warlike dresses. They thanked God
For their voyage made smooth and easy by His grace.
Then from the wall saw the Danish sentinel—
He whose charge was to guard the sea-cliff— 230
The bright bosses of shields borne on the gangway,
Ready war-gear; he was gripped by
