"Беовульф" Магия древнеанглийского языка. Том 1

and bowed them to bench: the breastplates clanged,

war-gear of men; their weapons stacked,

spears of the seafarers stood together,

gray-tipped ash: that iron band

was worthily weaponed! – A warrior proud

asked of the heroes their home and kin.

«Whence, now, bear ye burnished shields,

harness gray and helmets grim,

spears in multitude? Messenger, I,

Hrothgar’s herald! Heroes so many

ne’er met I as strangers of mood so strong.

«Tis plain that for prowess, not plunged into exile,

for high-hearted valor, Hrothgar ye seek!»

Him the sturdy-in-war bespake with words,

proud earl of the Weders answer made,

hardy «neath helmet: – «Hygelac’s, we,

fellows at board; I am Beowulf named.

I am seeking to say to the son of Healfdene

this mission of mine, to thy master-lord,

the doughty prince, if he deign at all

grace that we greet him, the good one, now.»

Wulfgar spake, the Wendles’ chieftain,

whose might of mind to many was known,

his courage and counsel: «The king of Danes,

the Scyldings’ friend, I fain will tell,

the Breaker-of-Rings, as the boon thou askest,

the famed prince, of thy faring hither,

and, swiftly after, such answer bring

as the doughty monarch may deign to give.»

Hied then in haste to where Hrothgar sat

white-haired and old, his earls about him,

till the stout thane stood at the shoulder there

of the Danish king: good courtier he!

Wulfgar spake to his winsome lord:—

«Hither have fared to thee far-come men

o’er the paths of ocean, people of Geatland;

and the stateliest there by his sturdy band

is Beowulf named. This boon they seek,

that they, my master, may with thee

have speech at will: nor spurn their prayer

to give them hearing, gracious Hrothgar!

In weeds of the warrior worthy they,

methinks, of our liking; their leader most surely,

a hero that hither his henchmen has led.»

HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings:—

«I knew him of yore in his youthful days;

his aged father was Ecgtheow named,

to whom, at home, gave Hrethel the Geat

his only daughter. Their offspring bold

fares hither to seek the steadfast friend.

And seamen, too, have said me this, —

who carried my gifts to the Geatish court,

thither for thanks, – he has thirty men’s

heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand,

the bold-in-battle. Blessed God

out of his mercy this man hath sent

to Danes of the West, as I ween indeed,

against horror of Grendel. I hope to give

the good youth gold for his gallant thought.

Be thou in haste, and bid them hither,

clan of kinsmen, to come before me;

and add this word, – they are welcome guests

to folk of the Danes.» [To the door of the hall

Wulfgar went] and the word declared:—

«To you this message my master sends,

East-Danes’ king, that your kin he knows,

hardy heroes, and hails you all

welcome hither o’er waves of the sea!

Ye may wend your way in war-attire,

and under helmets Hrothgar greet;

but let here the battle-shields bide your parley,

and wooden war-shafts wait its end.»

Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men,

brave band of thanes: some bode without,

battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief.

Then hied that troop where the herald led them,

under Heorot’s roof: [the hero strode,]

hardy «neath helm, till the hearth he neared.

Beowulf spake, – his breastplate gleamed,

war-net woven by wit of the smith:—

«Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac’s I,

kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty

have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds

I heard in my home-land heralded clear.

Seafarers say how stands this hall,

of buildings best, for your band of thanes

empty and idle, when evening sun

in the harbor of heaven is hidden away.

So my vassals advised me well, —

brave and wise, the best of men, —

O sovran Hrothgar, to seek thee here,

for my nerve and my might they knew full well.

Themselves had seen me from slaughter come

blood-flecked from foes, where five I bound,

and that wild brood worsted. I» the waves I slew

nicors by night, in need and peril

avenging the Weders, whose woe they sought, —

crushing the grim ones. Grendel now,

monster cruel, be mine to quell

in single battle! So, from thee,

thou sovran of the Shining-Danes,

Scyldings’-bulwark, a boon I seek, —

and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not,

O Warriors’-shield, now I’ve wandered far, —

that I alone with my liegemen here,

this hardy band, may Heorot purge!

More I hear, that the monster dire,

in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not;

hence shall I scorn – so Hygelac stay,

king of my kindred, kind to me! —

brand or buckler to bear in the fight,

gold-colored targe: but with gripe alone

must I front the fiend and fight for life,

foe against foe. Then faith be his

in the doom of the Lord whom death shall take.

Fain, I ween, if the fight he win,

in this hall of gold my Geatish band

will he fearless eat, – as oft before, —

my noblest thanes. Nor need’st thou then

to hide my head; for his shall I be,

dyed in gore, if death must take me;

and my blood-covered body he’ll bear as prey,

ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely,

with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen:

no further for me need’st food prepare!

To Hygelac send, if Hild should take me,

best of war-weeds, warding my breast,

armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel

and work of Wayland. Fares Wyrd as she must.»

Hrothgar spake, the Scyldings’-helmet:—

«For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf,

to succor and save, thou hast sought us here.

Thy father’s combat a feud enkindled

when Heatholaf with hand he slew

among the Wylfings; his Weder kin

for horror of fighting feared to hold him.

Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk,

over surge of ocean the Honor-Scyldings,

when first I was ruling the folk of Danes,

wielded, youthful, this widespread realm,

this hoard-hold of heroes. Heorogar was dead,

my elder brother, had breathed his last,

Healfdene’s bairn: he was better than I!

Straightway the feud with fee I settled,

to the Wylfings sent, o’er watery ridges,

treasures olden: oaths he swore me.

Sore is my soul to say to any

of the race of man what ruth for me

in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought,

what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me,

my warriors wane; for Wyrd hath swept them

into Grendel’s grasp. But God is able

this deadly foe from his deeds to turn!

Boasted full oft, as my beer they drank,

earls o’er the ale-cup, armed men,

that they would bide in the beer-hall here,

Grendel’s attack with terror of blades.

Then was this mead-house at morning tide

dyed with gore, when the daylight broke,

all the boards of the benches blood-besprinkled,

gory the hall: I had heroes the less,

doughty dear-ones that death had reft.

– But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words,

hardy hero, as heart shall prompt thee.»

Gathered together, the Geatish men

in the banquet-hall on bench assigned,

sturdy-spirited, sat them down,

hardy-hearted. A henchman attended,

carried the carven cup in hand,

served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang

blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,

no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane.

Unferth spake, the son of Ecglaf,

who sat at the feet of the Scyldings’ lord,

unbound the battle-runes. – Beowulf’s quest,

sturdy seafarer’s, sorely galled him;

ever he envied that other men

should more achieve in middle-earth

of fame under heaven than he himself. —

«Art thou that Beowulf, Breca’s rival,

who emulous swam on the open sea,

when for pride the pair of you proved the floods,

and wantonly dared in waters deep

to risk your lives? No living man,

or lief or loath, from your labor dire

could you dissuade, from swimming the main.

Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered,

with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured,

swam o’er the waters. Winter’s storm

rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea

a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee,

had more of main! Him at morning-tide

billows bore to the Battling Reamas,

whence he hied to his home so dear

beloved of his liegemen, to land of Brondings,

fastness fair, where his folk he ruled,

town and treasure. In triumph o’er thee

Beanstan’s bairn his boast achieved.

So ween I for thee a worse adventure

– though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been,

in struggle grim, – if Grendel’s approach

thou darst await through the watch of night!»

Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:—

«What a deal hast uttered, dear my Unferth,

drunken with beer, of Breca now,

told of his triumph! Truth I claim it,

that I had more of might in the sea

than any man else, more ocean-endurance.

We twain had talked, in time of youth,

and made our boast, – we were merely boys,

striplings still, – to stake our lives

far at sea: and so we performed it.

Naked swords, as we swam along,

we held in hand, with hope to guard us

against the whales. Not a whit from me

could he float afar o’er the flood of waves,

haste o’er the billows; nor him I abandoned.

Together we twain on the tides abode

five nights full till the flood divided us,

churning waves and chillest weather,

darkling night, and the northern wind

ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge.

Now the wrath of the sea-fish rose apace;

yet me «gainst the monsters my mailed coat,

hard and hand-linked, help afforded, —

battle-sark braided my breast to ward,

garnished with gold. There grasped me firm

and haled me to bottom the hated foe,

with grimmest gripe. «Twas granted me, though,

to pierce the monster with point of sword,

with blade of battle: huge beast of the sea

was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine.

ME thus often the evil monsters

thronging threatened. With thrust of my sword,

the darling, I dealt them due return!

Nowise had they bliss from their booty then

to devour their victim, vengeful creatures,

seated to banquet at bottom of sea;

but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt,

on the edge of ocean up they lay,

put to sleep by the sword. And since, by them

on the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folk

are never molested. – Light from east,

came bright God’s beacon; the billows sank,

so that I saw the sea-cliffs high,

windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth

earl undoomed if he doughty be!

And so it came that I killed with my sword

nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles

ne’er heard I a harder «neath heaven’s dome,

nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man!

Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch,

though spent with swimming. The sea upbore me,

flood of the tide, on Finnish land,

the welling waters. No wise of thee

have I heard men tell such terror of falchions,

bitter battle. Breca ne’er yet,

not one of you pair, in the play of war

such daring deed has done at all

with bloody brand, – I boast not of it! —

though thou wast the bane of thy brethren dear,

thy closest kin, whence curse of hell

awaits thee, well as thy wit may serve!

For I say in sooth, thou son of Ecglaf,

never had Grendel these grim deeds wrought,

monster dire, on thy master dear,

in Heorot such havoc, if heart of thine

were as battle-bold as thy boast is loud!

But he has found no feud will happen;

from sword-clash dread of your Danish clan

he vaunts him safe, from the Victor-Scyldings.

He forces pledges, favors none

of the land of Danes, but lustily murders,

fights and feasts, nor feud he dreads

from Spear-Dane men. But speedily now

shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats,

shall bid him battle. Blithe to mead

go he that listeth, when light of dawn

this morrow morning o’er men of earth,

ether-robed sun from the south shall beam!»

Joyous then was the Jewel-giver,

hoar-haired, war-brave; help awaited

the Bright-Danes’ prince, from Beowulf hearing,

folk’s good shepherd, such firm resolve.

Then was laughter of liegemen loud resounding

with winsome words. Came Wealhtheow forth,

queen of Hrothgar, heedful of courtesy,

gold-decked, greeting the guests in hall;

and the high-born lady handed the cup

first to the East-Danes’ heir and warden,

bade him be blithe at the beer-carouse,

the land’s beloved one. Lustily took he

banquet and beaker, battle-famed king.

Through the hall then went the Helmings’ Lady,

to younger and older everywhere

carried the cup, till come the moment

when the ring-graced queen, the royal-hearted,

to Beowulf bore the beaker of mead.

She greeted the Geats’ lord, God she thanked,

in wisdom’s words, that her will was granted,

that at last on a hero her hope could lean

for comfort in terrors. The cup he took,

hardy-in-war, from Wealhtheow’s hand,

and answer uttered the eager-for-combat.

Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:—

«This was my thought, when my thanes and I

bent to the ocean and entered our boat,

that I would work the will of your people

fully, or fighting fall in death,

in fiend’s gripe fast. I am firm to do

an earl’s brave deed, or end the days

of this life of mine in the mead-hall here.»

Well these words to the woman seemed,

Beowulf’s battle-boast. – Bright with gold

the stately dame by her spouse sat down.

Again, as erst, began in hall

warriors’ wassail and words of power,

the proud-band’s revel, till presently

the son of Healfdene hastened to seek

rest for the night; he knew there waited

fight for the fiend in that festal hall,

when the sheen of the sun they saw no more,

and dusk of night sank darkling nigh,

and shadowy shapes came striding on,

wan under welkin. The warriors rose.

Man to man, he made harangue,

Hrothgar to Beowulf, bade him hail,

let him wield the wine hall: a word he added:—

«Never to any man erst I trusted,

since I could heave up hand and shield,

this noble Dane-Hall, till now to thee.

Have now and hold this house unpeered;

remember thy glory; thy might declare;

watch for the foe! No wish shall fail thee

if thou bidest the battle with bold-won life.»

Then Hrothgar went with his hero-train,

defence-of-Scyldings, forth from hall;

fain would the war-lord Wealhtheow seek,

couch of his queen. The King-of-Glory

against this Grendel a guard had set,

so heroes heard, a hall-defender,

who warded the monarch and watched for the monster.

In truth, the Geats’ prince gladly trusted

his mettle, his might, the mercy of God!

Cast off then his corselet of iron,

helmet from head; to his henchman gave, —

choicest of weapons, – the well-chased sword,

bidding him guard the gear of battle.

Spake then his Vaunt the valiant man,

Beowulf Geat, ere the bed be sought:—

«Of force in fight no feebler I count me,

in grim war-deeds, than Grendel deems him.

Not with the sword, then, to sleep of death

his life will I give, though it lie in my power.

No skill is his to strike against me,

my shield to hew though he hardy be,

bold in battle; we both, this night,

shall spurn the sword, if he seek me here,

unweaponed, for war. Let wisest God,

sacred Lord, on which side soever

doom decree as he deemeth right.»

Reclined then the chieftain, and cheek-pillows held

the head of the earl, while all about him

seamen hardy on hall-beds sank.

None of them thought that thence their steps

to the folk and fastness that fostered them,

to the land they loved, would lead them back!

Full well they wist that on warriors many

battle-death seized, in the banquet-hall,

of Danish clan. But comfort and help,

war-weal weaving, to Weder folk

the Master gave, that, by might of one,

over their enemy all prevailed,

by single strength. In sooth «tis told

that highest God o’er human kind

hath wielded ever! – Thro’ wan night striding,

came the walker-in-shadow. Warriors slept

whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, —

all save one. «Twas widely known

that against God’s will the ghostly ravager

him could not hurl to haunts of darkness;

wakeful, ready, with warrior’s wrath,

bold he bided the battle’s issue.

Then from the moorland, by misty crags,

with God’s wrath laden, Grendel came.

The monster was minded of mankind now

sundry to seize in the stately house.

Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,

gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,

flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,

that he the home of Hrothgar sought, —

yet ne’er in his life-day, late or early,

such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!

To the house the warrior walked apace,

parted from peace; the portal opended,

though with forged bolts fast, when his fists had struck it,

and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,

the house’s mouth. All hastily, then,

o’er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,

ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyes

fearful flashes, like flame to see.

He spied in hall the hero-band,

kin and clansmen clustered asleep,

hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;

for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,

savage, to sever the soul of each,

life from body, since lusty banquet

waited his will! But Wyrd forbade him

to seize any more of men on earth

after that evening. Eagerly watched

Hygelac’s kinsman his cursed foe,

how he would fare in fell attack.

Not that the monster was minded to pause!

Straightway he seized a sleeping warrior

for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,

the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,

swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus

the lifeless corse was clear devoured,

e’en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;

for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,

felt for the foe with fiendish claw,

for the hero reclining, – who clutched it boldly,

prompt to answer, propped on his arm.

Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evils

that never he met in this middle-world,

in the ways of earth, another wight

with heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,

sorrowed in soul, – none the sooner escaped!

Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,

the den of devils: no doings now

such as oft he had done in days of old!

Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thane

of his boast at evening: up he bounded,

grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.

The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.

The monster meant – if he might at all —

to fling himself free, and far away

fly to the fens, – knew his fingers’ power

in the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome march

to Heorot this monster of harm had made!

Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,

castle-dwellers and clansmen all,

earls, of their ale. Angry were both

those savage hall-guards: the house resounded.

Wonder it was the wine-hall firm

in the strain of their struggle stood, to earth

the fair house fell not; too fast it was

within and without by its iron bands

craftily clamped; though there crashed from sill

many a mead-bench – men have told me —

gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.

So well had weened the wisest Scyldings

that not ever at all might any man

that bone-decked, brave house break asunder,

crush by craft, – unless clasp of fire

in smoke engulfed it. – Again uprose

din redoubled. Danes of the North

with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,

who from the wall that wailing heard,

God’s foe sounding his grisly song,

cry of the conquered, clamorous pain

from captive of hell. Too closely held him

he who of men in might was strongest

in that same day of this our life.

Not in any wise would the earls’-defence

suffer that slaughterous stranger to live,

useless deeming his days and years

to men on earth. Now many an earl

of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral,

fain the life of their lord to shield,

their praised prince, if power were theirs;

never they knew, – as they neared the foe,

hardy-hearted heroes of war,

aiming their swords on every side

the accursed to kill, – no keenest blade,

no farest of falchions fashioned on earth,

could harm or hurt that hideous fiend!

He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle,

from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting

on that same day of this our life