Then hastened those heroes their home to see,
friendless, to find the Frisian land, houses and high
burg. Hengest still through the death-dyed winter
dwelt with Finn, holding pact, yet of home he minded,
though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive over
the waters, now waves rolled fierce lashed by the
winds, or winter locked them in icy fetters.
Then fared another year to men’s dwellings,
as yet they do, the sunbright skies, that their season
ever duly await. Far off winter was driven;
fair lay earth’s breast; and fain was the rover,
the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered
on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep, and
how to hasten the hot encounter where sons of the
Frisians were sure to be. So he escaped not the
common doom, when Hun with “Lafing,” the
light-of-battle, best of blades, his bosom pierced:
its edge was famed with the Frisian earls. On
fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise, on himself
at home, the horrid sword-death; for Guthlaf and Oslaf
of grim attack had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed,
mourning their woes.
{17a} Finn’s wavering spirit
bode not in breast. The burg was reddened with
blood of foemen, and Finn was slain, king amid clansmen;
the queen was taken. To their ship the Scylding
warriors bore all the chattels the chieftain owned,
whatever they found in Finn’s domain of gems
and jewels. The gentle wife o’er paths
of the deep to the Danes they bore, led to her land.
The lay was finished, the gleeman’s song.
Then glad rose the revel; bench-joy brightened.
Bearers draw from their “wonder-vats”
wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth, under gold-crown
goes where the good pair sit, uncle and nephew, true
each to the other one, kindred in amity. Unferth
the spokesman at the Scylding lord’s feet sat:
men had faith in his spirit, his keenness of courage,
though kinsmen had found him unsure at the sword-play.
The Scylding queen spoke: “Quaff of this
cup, my king and lord, breaker of rings, and blithe
be thou, gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak
such words of mildness as man should use. Be
glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful, or
near or far, which now thou hast.
Men say to me, as son thou wishest yon hero to hold.
Thy Heorot purged, jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while
thou canst, with many a largess; and leave to thy
kin folk and realm when forth thou goest to greet
thy doom. For gracious I deem my Hrothulf, {17b}
willing to hold and rule nobly our youths, if thou
yield up first, prince of Scyldings, thy part in the
world. I ween with good he will well requite
offspring of ours, when all he minds that for him
we did in his helpless days of gift and grace to gain
him honor!” Then she turned to the seat where
her sons wereplaced, Hrethric and Hrothmund, with
heroes’ bairns, young men together: the
Geat, too, sat there, Beowulf brave, the brothers
between.
