XL

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XL

The Messenger of Death

Then he charged that the battle be announced at the hedge

Up o’er the cliff-edge, where the earl-troopers bided

The whole of the morning, mood-wretched sat them,

Bearers of battle-shields, both things expecting,

The end of his lifetime and the coming again of

The liegelord belovèd. Little reserved he

Of news that was known, who the ness-cliff did travel,

But he truly discoursed to all that could hear him:

“Now the free-giving friend-lord of the folk of the Weders,

The folk-prince of Geatmen, is fast in his death-bed,

By the deeds of the dragon in death-bed abideth;

Along with him lieth his life-taking foeman

Slain with knife-wounds: he was wholly unable

To injure at all the ill-planning monster

With bite of his sword-edge. Wiglaf is sitting,

Offspring of Wihstan, up over Beowulf,

Earl o’er another whose end-day hath reached him,

Head-watch holdeth o’er heroes unliving,

For friend and for foeman. The folk now expecteth

A season of strife when the death of the folk-king

To Frankmen and Frisians in far-lands is published.

The war-hatred waxed warm ’gainst the Hugmen,

When Higelac came with an army of vessels

Faring to Friesland, where the Frankmen in battle

Humbled him and bravely with overmight ’complished

That the mail-clad warrior must sink in the battle,

Fell ’mid his folk-troop: no fret-gems presented

The atheling to earlmen; aye was denied us

Merewing’s mercy. The men of the Swedelands

For truce or for truth trust I but little;

But widely ’twas known that near Ravenswood Ongentheow

Sundered Haethcyn the Hrethling from life-joys,

When for pride overweening the War-Scylfings first did

Seek the Geatmen with savage intentions.

Early did Ohthere’s age-laden father,

Old and terrible, give blow in requital,

Killing the sea-king, the queen-mother rescued,

The old one his consort deprived of her gold,

Onela’s mother and Ohthere’s also,

And then followed the feud-nursing foemen till hardly,

Reaved of their ruler, they Ravenswood entered.

Then with vast-numbered forces he assaulted the remnant,

Weary with wounds, woe often promised

The livelong night to the sad-hearted war-troop:

Said he at morning would kill them with edges of weapons,

Some on the gallows for glee to the fowls.

Aid came after to the anxious-in-spirit

At dawn of the day, after Higelac’s bugle

And trumpet-sound heard they, when the good one proceeded

And faring followed the flower of the troopers.