XVII

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XVII

Banquet (Continued)⁠—The Scop’s Song of Finn and Hnaef

And the atheling of earlmen to each of the heroes

Who the ways of the waters went with Beowulf,

A costly gift-token gave on the mead-bench,

Offered an heirloom, and ordered that that man

With gold should be paid for, whom Grendel had erstwhile

Wickedly slaughtered, as he more of them had done

Had far-seeing God and the mood of the hero

The fate not averted: the Father then governed

All of the earth-dwellers, as He ever is doing;

Hence insight for all men is everywhere fittest,

Forethought of spirit! much he shall suffer

Of lief and of loathsome who long in this present

Useth the world in this woeful existence.

There was music and merriment mingling together

Touching Healfdene’s leader; the joy-wood was fingered,

Measures recited, when the singer of Hrothgar

On mead-bench should mention the merry hall-joyance

Of the kinsmen of Finn, when onset surprised them:

“The Half-Danish hero, Hnaef of the Scyldings,

On the field of the Frisians was fated to perish.

Sure Hildeburg needed not mention approving

The faith of the Jutemen: though blameless entirely,

When shields were shivered she was shorn of her darlings,

Of bairns and brothers: they bent to their fate

With war-spear wounded; woe was that woman.

Not causeless lamented the daughter of Hoce

The decree of the Wielder when morning-light came and

She was able ’neath heaven to behold the destruction

Of brothers and bairns, where the brightest of earth-joys

She had hitherto had: all the henchmen of Finn

War had offtaken, save a handful remaining,

That he nowise was able to offer resistance

To the onset of Hengest in the parley of battle,

Nor the wretched remnant to rescue in war from

The earl of the atheling; but they offered conditions,

Another great building to fully make ready,

A hall and a high-seat, that half they might rule with

The sons of the Jutemen, and that Folcwalda’s son would

Day after day the Danemen honor

When gifts were giving, and grant of his ring-store

To Hengest’s earl-troop ever so freely,

Of his gold-plated jewels, as he encouraged the Frisians

On the bench of the beer-hall. On both sides they swore then

A fast-binding compact; Finn unto Hengest

With no thought of revoking vowed then most solemnly

The woe-begone remnant well to take charge of,

His Witan advising; the agreement should no one

By words or works weaken and shatter,

By artifice ever injure its value,

Though reaved of their ruler their ring-giver’s slayer

They followed as vassals, Fate so requiring:

Then if one of the Frisians the quarrel should speak of

In tones that were taunting, terrible edges

Should cut in requital. Accomplished the oath was,

And treasure of gold from the hoard was uplifted.

The best of the Scylding braves was then fully

Prepared for the pile; at the pyre was seen clearly

The blood-gory burnie, the boar with his gilding,

The iron-hard swine, athelings many

Fatally wounded; no few had been slaughtered.

Hildeburg bade then, at the burning of Hnaef,

The bairn of her bosom to bear to the fire,

That his body be burned and borne to the pyre.

The woe-stricken woman wept on his shoulder

In measures lamented; upmounted the hero.

The greatest of dead-fires curled to the welkin,

On the hill’s-front crackled; heads were a-melting,

Wound-doors bursting, while the blood was a-coursing

From body-bite fierce. The fire devoured them,

Greediest of spirits, whom war had offcarried

From both of the peoples; their bravest were fallen.