_beowulf_ grendel I read a dumbed-down version of this story when i was a kid, god knows epic poems in this day and age are a a tough read without a good dynamic or dramatic environment in which to enjoy them for those of you who didn't know, this is where i take the name Grendel from, although, my views being as they are, i am much more fond of John Gardner's retelling the story from the monster's point of view so now, if you are so inclined, here comes a bit of literature for all of you out there, translated from the Old English (Saxon) I. Listen: You have heard of the Danish Kings in the old days and how they were great warriors. Scyld, the son of Sheaf, took many an enemy's chair, terrified many a warrior, after he was found an orphan. He prospered under the sky until people everywhere listened when he spoke. He was a good king! Scyld had a son, child for his yard, sent by God to comfort the people, to keep them from fear-- Grain was his name; he was famous throughout the North. Young princes should do as he did-- give out treasures while they're still young so that when they're old people will support them in time of war. A man prospers by good deeds in any nation. Scyld died at his fated hour, went to God still strong. His people carried him to the sea, which was his last request. In the harbor stood a well-built ship, icy but ready for the sea. They laid Scyld there, propped him against the mast surrounded by gold and treasure from distant lands. I've never heard of a more beautiful ship, filled with shields, swords, and coats of mail, gifts to him for his long trip. No doubt he had a little more than he did as a child when he was sent out, a naked orphan in an empty boat. Now he had a golden banner high over his head, was, sadly by a rich people, given to the sea. The wisest alive can't tell where a death ship goes. Grain ruled the Danes a long time after his father's death, and to him was born the great Healfdene, fierce in battle, who ruled until he was old. Healfdene had four children-- Heorogar, Hrothgar, Halga the Good, and a daughter who married Onela, King of the Swedes. Hrothgar Becomes King of the Danes After Hrothgar became king he won many battles: his friends and family willingly obeyed him; his childhood friends became famous soldiers. So Hrothgar decided he would build a mead-hall, the greatest the world had ever seen, or even imagined. There he would share out to young and old alike all that God gave him (except for public lands and men's lives). I have heard that orders went out far and wide; tribes throughout the world set to work on that building. And it was built, the world's greatest mead-hall. And that great man called the building "Herot," the hart. After it was built, Hrothgar did what he said he would: handed out gold and treasure at huge feasts. That hall was high-towered, tall and wide-gabled (though destruction awaited, fire and swords of family trouble; and outside in the night waited a tortured spirit of hell). The words of the poet, the sounds of the harp, the joy of people echoed. The poet told how the world came to be, how God made the earth and the water surrounding, how He set the sun and the moon as lights for people and adorned the earth with limbs and leaves for everyone. Hrothgar's people lived in joy, happy until that wanderer of the wasteland, Grendel the demon, possessor of the moors, began his crimes. He was of a race of monsters exiled from mankind by God-- He was of the race of Cain, that man punished for murdering his brother. From that family comes all evil beings-- monsters, elves, zombies. Also the giants who fought with God and got repaid with the flood. 011123 ... grendel One night, after a beer party, the Danes settled in the hall for sleep; they knew no sorrows. The evil creature, grim and hungry, grabbed thirty warriors and went home laughing. At dawn, when the Danes learned of Grendel's strength, there was great weeping. The old king sat sadly, crying for his men. Bloody footprints were found. That was bad enough, but the following night Grendel killed more-- blinded by sin, he felt no remorse. (You can bet the survivors started sleeping elsewhere.) So Grendel ruled, fighting right, one against many, and the greatest hall in all the earth stood empty at night. Twelve years this went on, Hrothgar suffering the greatest of sorrows. Poets sang sad songs throughout the world, how Grendel tormented Hrothgar; how no warrior, no matter how brave, could kill Grendel. How Grendel wasn't about to stop, or pay damages. Grendel kept ambushing from his lair, the moors which lay in perpetual darkness. Then, the cruelest of all injuries, he moved into the hall-- stayed there every night (though God would never allow such an evil thing to actually touch the throne). Hrothgar was broken; council after council proposed what to do against the attacks. They even went to heathen temples, worshipped idols, and called to the Devil for help. The Danes forgot God. (Woe be to those who go to the fire's embrace, even in great distress-- There is no consolation there.) No counselor, no warrior could destroy the evil. They wept and seethed. But a warrior of Hygelac's heard of Grendel's doings; he was the strongest of men alive in that day, mighty and noble. That man called for a ship, said he would cross the ocean and help the king who needed help. Wise men urged him to that adventure though he was dear to them. They examined omens and whetted him on. So the good Geat chose the bravest warriors, fourteen of them, and that crafty sailor led them to the land's brim, to the ship. They readied the ship on the waves under the cliffs and the warriors stood at the prow as the water wound against the sand. The warriors bore into the ship's bosom bright weapons, fitted armor. The men shoved the well-braced ship out on the journey they'd dreamed of. The foamy-necked ship went out like a bird so that the next day its curved prow had gone so far that the seafarers saw land, shining shore cliffs and steep mountains. Their journey was already over and the Geat warriors pulled their ship to the shore and stood on land in their rattling shirts, their war-clothes. They thanked God for an easy trip. From his wall the sea-guard of the Danes, protector of the cliffs, saw bright shields and ready war dress coming over the gang plank and he wondered who those men were. Hrothgar's warrior rode to shore on his horse. Shaking a mighty spear, he spoke: "Who are you, in armor, who come over the sea-road in that steep keel? Listen: I guard here so that no forces hostile to the Danes may raid. Never has one so openly brought a ship's army, warriors, without the permission of my kinsmen. And never have I seen a greater man on earth, any man in armor, than is one among you. Unless I'm wrong, that is no hall-man, just wearing armor-- his stature is peerless. I wish to know your lineage now so I know you are not spies going into the land of the Danes. You far-dwellers, seafarers, hear my simple thought: you had best hurry to tell me where you come from." Beowulf, leader of the host unlatched his word-hoard: "As to kin, we are of the Geat nation, Hygelac's hearth-companions. My father was a leader well known among the people: Edgtheow. He stayed many winters before he went away, aged, from the court. Every wise man readily remembers him throughout the earth. We have come with friendly hearts to see your lord, Healfdene's son, protector of the people. Be good counsel to us: we have come on a great errand to the king of the Danes. I think it foolish to keep secrets. You know if it is true what we have heard, that a dark enemy in the nights works violence and slaughter on the Danes. . . . Perhaps in kindness I may advise Hrothgar how he, wise and famous, may overcome this enemy-- if change will ever come, relief from this evil-- and how this seething sorrow might become cool. Otherwise, he will suffer tribulation as long as he lives in that high place, the best of houses." The protector of the coast, still on his horse, spoke (a wise shield warrior, one who thinks well, must judge two things: works and words): "I see that you are a band friendly to the lord of the Danes. Go forth, bearing arms and equipment. I will guide you. Also, I will order my men to protect your ship, that new-tarred boat on the sand, until it bears you again back over the water streams with its curved wooden neck, back to the land of the Geats-- if it be granted that you endure the battle." They left then the well-made ship pulling at its rope. On the gold-adorned helmets figures of boars shone, those guards over war-like minds. The men excitedly marched until they saw that ornamented hall, the finest building on earth, that glittered light over many lands, where the mighty one waited. The one brave in battle pointed toward the resplendent hall; the guard of the coast turned his horse and said after them: "It is time for me to go. May the Father Omnipotent hold you safe and sound in kindness! I will go back to the sea to hold against hostile bands." 011123 ... birdmad see: a_note_about_the_beowulf_translation 011123 ... anti-social butterfly reading this was hell. i could not pay attention. i am clearly not meant to read epic poems. damn requiredreading. 011127 ... oldephebe thank you for putting this here grendel 040324 what's it to you? who go blather from