HwætGPT: A Large Language Model’s Translation of Beowulf
I work primarily on contemporary science fiction and fantasy these days, but, even though my Old English has certainly gotten a little rusty, I was originally trained as a medievalist. Lately my head has been very much in the 21st century, as I’ve been mainly teaching and writing on recent representations of artificial intelligence in literature and film. But the other day I was intrigued to discover my two academic worlds potentially converging: I learned that ChatGPT claims fluency in both Middle English and Old English. I don’t do much work in medieval studies myself these days, but I would love to encourage other medievalists to reflect on the facility of such large language models with premodern languages, and what their level of competence (or incompetence) might tell us.
ChatGPT will gamely translate lines of Old and Middle English into modern English, and will also readily compose its own Old English poetry if asked. In the hopes of calling attention to the potential for medievalists to comment on such AI tools and their “understanding” of premodern languages, I decided to set ChatGPT the eye-catching task of translating Beowulf into modern English. The process can be a little tricky, because ChatGPT will only translate a few dozen lines at once, and sometimes fail to translate lines without explanation if you give it too many at once. Rather than produce a translation of the entire poem at once, then, I decided to go ahead and post just the first 836 lines, up through the fight with Grendel.
To produce this translation, I used the current public iteration of ChatGPT (Mar 23 version), and asked for translations of successive passages from Beowulf, which may explain some variation in the approach to translation from section to section. Without further ado, here is ChatGPT’s attempt at the first 836 lines:
Lo, we have heard of the glory of the kings of the people in days of yore,
how the noble princes performed brave deeds.
Often Scyld Scefing seized mead-benches from enemy troops,
terrorized earls, after he was first found helpless and abandoned.
He grew under the clouds, prospering in honors,
until all those around him had to heed him,
and yield him tribute. He was a good king.
To him was born a son, a young child in those days,
whom God sent as a comfort to the people,
who saw the need for a leader, as they had before
lived without a lord for a long time. The Lord, ruler of all,
granted him worldly success for a time.
Beowulf was famous; his fame spread widely,
Scyld's son, throughout the lands.
So shall a young man build a good reputation
with generous gifts from his father's treasure in his keeping,
so that in his old age, when war comes,
his comrades will stand by him and aid him.
People will then praise his deeds in every clan.
When Scyld departed at the appointed time,
fated to his death, his people carried him
to the sea's edge, to his sweet comrades,
as he himself had asked, while he ruled his people with words.
Beloved land's ruler, he long possessed
the seat by the shore, where the ring-stemmed ship stood
frosty and foreign, the prince's vessel.
They laid their dear lord, the giver of rings,
on the ship's bosom, the mighty by the mast.
Many treasures from distant lands were brought to him.
I have not heard of a more splendid ship
loaded with weapons and battle-gear, swords and mail,
wherein lay many treasures that were to go far
with him into the waters, at his own will.
Nor have I heard of men more valiant
in battle or on the sea than his chosen comrades.
They did not give him fewer gifts, treasures of the people,
than those who sent him forth, at his first beginning,
across the waves, alone over the deep sea.
Then they set up a golden banner high above his head,
let the waves carry him, gave him to the deep sea.
His heart was sad, his spirit mournful,
men could not say with certainty who took that load
of treasure, that vast wealth.
I
Then in the cities was Beowulf the Scylding,
the beloved king of the people, for a long time,
known among the folk; his father departed elsewhere
from this earth, until he again awakened
High Halfdane, who ruled while he lived,
old and war-fierce, gladdened the Scyldings,
to him were born four children, multiplied
in the world, the rush of armies:
Heorogar, and Hrothgar, and the holy Halga;
I have heard that Elan queen was to Yrse,
the bed-companion of the Heatho-Scylfings.
Then to Hrothgar was given military honor
of war, his glory in battle, so that his companions
eagerly obeyed him until the young grew up,
a great company of kinsmen; they in their minds desired
to build a hall, which they called Heorot.
A great mead-hall; men should ever hear of it,
and within it all share out
to young and old such things as God had given them,
except for common land and the lives of men.
Then I heard widely that work had been banned,
by many people, throughout this middle-earth,
to adorn their settlements; it happened quickly,
most magnificent of halls; he gave it a heart-name,
he who had wide power of speech.
He did not break his vow; he dealt out rings,
treasure at the feast; the hall towered high,
and horned-gables awaited the surge of war,
the hateful flames. It was not long then
before the ancient feud, the oath-sworn,
after the deadly enmity, had to awaken,
then the fierce guest, enduringly,
endured difficulty, he who dwelt in darkness,
who every day heard joy in the hall,
loud in the hall, where the harp's sound was,
clear song, he who knew the origin of men...
The Almighty made the earth,
beautiful fields, walled-in water,
established triumphant, the sun and the moon,
lights for land-dwellers, and adorned
the surface of the earth, with limbs and leaves,
every kind of creatures, that live and move.
So the warriors lived in joys,
blissfully, until one began,
a fiend from hell, to perpetrate wickedness,
that fierce spirit, called Grendel,
the great boundary-stalker, who held the moors,
the fens, and strongholds, the land of the misbegotten,
the miserable creature, for a while watched over,
until the Creator, the Eternal Lord,
revenged the killing of Abel,
the offspring of Cain; he did not enjoy that feud,
but God drove him far from the human race,
for that murder, and all monsters
awakened there, giants, elves, and orcs,
as well as the giants, who battled against God
for a long time; he rewarded them for that.
II
What happened then, after nightfall,
that the warriors of the ring-Danes
had to bow to the ground in their hall?
There, in the hall, they found
a company of noble warriors asleep,
but sorrow and wretchedness and misery
and a terrible fate were upon them.
The fierce and greedy, ready at once,
restless and ruthless, seized thirty thanes,
and then went out, exultant in their spoil,
to seek their lair, gloating over their booty.
Then, at dawn, in the day's first light,
the warriors marvelled at Grendel's power,
and after the feasting they raised a cry
of great mourning, the great lord,
the noble and good prince, sat in sadness,
enduring fierce grief, when they saw
the loathsome monster's trail, how fierce and great
was the contest, the long and bitter strife.
But no sooner did the dark-hearted demon
perform greater murder-deeds than he,
enmity and malice were firmly established
there, and it was easy to find him
resting elsewhere, after the conflict,
his lair marked by a terrible token,
the heat of his hatred burned, and he held
the fastness against all, until it stood empty,
the best of houses. For twelve winters, he endured
sorrow, the dear lord of the Shieldings,
great afflictions and the enmity of many nations.
So cruel was his fate that the children of men
heard of his sufferings, his misery in songs,
how Grendel harassed him for a time,
heated hatreds and acts of hostility, for many seasons.
The hall rang with a sound of constant strife;
no peace was to be had with any man, however mighty
a champion of valor from afar might come to test his strength.
No living soul knew where those helmed demons
went walking in their wandering, nor the depths
of human depravity which the accursed fiend wrought.
The hardy-hearted hero stayed in the hall.
In the blackness of night, the shining palace lay idle,
the gift-seat could not be approached
nor was there anyone to know its secret workings.
A great vengeance befell the friends of the Scyldings,
many sat mournfully and listened to stories
of the powerful in counsel, wondering what would be best
to defend themselves against insidious foes.
At times they made vows to the ancient stones,
pleading for victory in battle. Their destroyer had laid a curse upon them,
and the heathen had their hope in hell.
They knew not the true creator, the judge of their deeds.
Nor did they glorify the Lord of Heaven,
the ruler of glory. Woeful is the one who must,
through fierce enmity, thrust his soul
into the fire's embrace, finding no comfort,
no turning back from his fate. But happy is he
who, after his death day, can seek the Lord's embrace,
longing for peace in the Father's embrace.
III
Then the son of Halfdan, the warrior of the Geats,
experienced great affliction; the cunning hero
could not alter the wickedness of fate. The conflict
was too strong, hostile and long-lasting,
the affliction and grim hatred of the night-terror
that descended upon the people. From his home, Hygelac's thane
heard tell of the deeds of Grendel; the good warrior
was the strongest of all mankind on that day of his life,
noble and powerful, and he commanded that
a good ship be readied for him. He said that he,
the war-king, would cross the swan-road in search of
the renowned lord who was in need of men. Wise men
scarcely dissuaded him, though he was dear to them;
the valiant ones beheld the good omen.
The good prince of the Geats chose
fifteen warriors, the bravest among them,
and went to the sea. A wise man showed them
the way, a skilful sailor; the time passed,
the boat was on the waves beneath the cliffs.
The warriors were ready, they climbed up onto the prow,
the water churned as they sailed the sea,
the men carried their shining armour,
their war-gear, as they went over the deep sea.
The wood of the ship creaked on the waves;
they reached land, the sea-cliffs shone,
the wide promontories, and the water lay behind them.
The Weders stepped ashore, they hauled their ship
onto the sand, and they shook out their mail-shirts.
Of war-weeds they then offered thanks
For that which easily had been granted them.
From the wall then the watch of the Scyldings
Beheld him who the ocean-cliffs
Was to guard and to bear over the bulwarks
Bright, gleaming shields.
The armour caught his eye,
And his curiosity was aroused
As to who those men were with their proud mien.
He went to the shore to ride his horse,
Hrothgar's thane, full of valor,
In splendid weapons he was adorned
And with great strength he inquired in words.
"What sort of warriors are you
Who clad in byrnies came here
Over the sea-road with your bronzed ship?
Never have I seen a more noble
Company of earls on earth.
You, sir, with your cunning,
Are no common sailor,
Unless your appearance deceives me.
Your noble mien cannot be hidden,
And now I must know
Your lineage and home,
Before you further pass
As strangers in this land of the Danes."
IIII
The oldest of them answered,
The wisest of the warriors unlocked his word-hoard:
"We are the people of the Geats,
And the companions of Hygelac.
My father, noble and renowned among his people,
Was named Ecgtheow. He lived many winters
Before he departed elsewhere from the world.
Many wise men, far and wide across the earth,
Remember him with respect.
We have come to seek your lord and protector,
The son of Half-Dane, O Beowulf.
We ask that you, good teacher,
Have mercy on us and tell us truly,
Do not keep anything secret.
We heard, in truth, that there is no better warrior
In the world than you are.
We have a great mission
For the lord of the Danes. There must not be
Any secrets, I believe you know if it is so.
We truly heard that you are, with the Scyldings,
A fighter unknown to anyone.
A secret evildoer goes about at night
Committing heinous acts, and through fear
Of him, the humbled and helpless endure
Oppression and terror. I know that I can
Advise Hrothgar to find a way,
If that wise and good king should ever have
The misfortune of facing such a foe.
If troubles come, he can, after suffering through them,
Expect some compensation.
Or if after violence, hardship and afflictions,
They should endure miseries, where they must remain
In the highest place, the best of homes.
The watchman spoke, who sat on the ship:
"A brave servant must be fearless in every way,
Skilled in battle, knowing how to speak and act.
Whoever thinks wisely will understand that
This is a friendly group, the warriors of the Scyldings.
You must go forth, bearing
Weapons and armor, and I will guide you.
I will command my own followers
Against any foe, and guard your ship
Against wrath, while you are away.”
V
The path was of stone, steep and winding.
Together with their war-gear gleaming,
The warriors marched, with strong, hand-crafted
Shields and bright, ringed mailcoats,
As they approached the hall, adorned
With their grim attire, they moved forward.
They set down their sea-wood, broad shields
Hard as rain, against the wall of the hall.
They then turned to benches, ringing their mailcoats,
Their battle-gear of spears standing by,
Together with the skillful craftsmanship
Of sea-man's weapons. Above their benches,
Gray ash-spears, the iron-clad troop,
Their armor proudly displayed.
The proud warriors then inquired about the hall's
Defenders, after their journey.
"From where do you carry your shining shields,
Gray shirts, and fierce helmets?
I am Hrothgar's counselor and servant,
Old and experienced in battle and rule."
"I have not seen many brave men like you,
Foreigners so brave, I assume you have come
Not for humiliation but rather for glory,
To seek Hrothgar's favor and honor."
The valiant warrior then replied with courage,
Proud hero of the Weder people:
"Hard under helm, Higelac's kinsman,
Beowulf is my name. I have come to you
Great Lord, to deliver my message to your ear,
If you allow me to greet you,
And grant us your gracious favor,
That we may exchange words with your people."
Wulfgar then spoke, he was Wendla's kin,
Well known for his wisdom and courage:
"My Lord, here are strangers who have come
From a far-off land, over the seas
These are the bravest of Geats,
And their leader is called Beowulf.
They have come to your hall,
Hoping to exchange words with you.
Do not deny them your kindness and favor,
O Hrothgar, for these warriors deserve your respect,
They are worthy of your honor and friendship."
VI
Hrothgar spoke, protector of the helmeted Scyldings:
"I knew him, when he was a boy;
his elder father was called Ecgtheow.
He gave him, to be raised in his home,
Hrethel the Geat's own son, his own kin.
His only heir is here now, and he,
a hardy warrior, has sought a loyal friend.
They who had crossed the wide sea
sent him treasures, a sign of their gratitude.
Thirty men's power is in his grip,
as he holds the battle-terror.
May the holy God, for his old nobility,
grant him glory and send him help,
to the West-Danes, as I expect.
Against Grendel's terror, I shall
offer this good man, for his courage,
precious gifts. Be ready to go quickly.
Together let us see the peaceable retinue.
Tell them with words that they are welcome
to the Danish people."
There was much more to say, but Hrothgar's servant
said it more directly.
"My lord, the king of the East-Danes,
sent me to ask if you know
your noble lineage and if you, beyond the sea,
are one of the hard-minded warriors
who accompanied Higelac here.
Beowulf spoke, his byrnie shining:
"Hrothgar, king of the Danes, I have come to you
because of the stories of your mighty strength,
which my people, themselves mighty, have learned.
They told me that your hall is the finest
of buildings, for every noble warrior;
it stands empty and useless after dark,
hidden under the bright sky of heaven.
Wise men taught me that you, the protector of warriors,
would not forbid me, great friend of the people,
if I alone, with my band of earls,
should risk my life, with this band of warriors,
to fight this enemy.
I also heard that this cruel creature,
for his arrogance, pays no heed to weapons.
But I consider him less fearsome,
for my king, the Lord of men, is glad in spirit
when I bear my sword or shining shield,
yellow and ornamented, to battle.
I will grapple with the fiend, struggle with the foe,
despite his wickedness; I must believe
that, according to the Lord's will, he will decide
which one of us death's hand will take.
I expect that he will, if he is able,
in the battle-hall, with the troop of Geats,
devour food unafraid, as he has oft before,
the bold-mettled one. The brave warriors
need not boast of their prowess; they are too certain
of my spirit. The thane in whom the courage
of a soldier is the greatest, the good
man, need not hide his head, but he will have me
stained with blood, if death takes me away. He will bear
bloody weapons, and will think about my body,
consumed alone; he will mark the place
of my mangled flesh: nor need you, for that, care
about my corpse when you think of food for your
grieving body. Send to Hygelac, if the battle
takes me off, the best of battle-garments
that protects my breast, the most glorious of vests.
It is a relic of Hrethel, and has long been in the family;
may it lead my spirit on the same path as fate."
VII
Hrothgar spoke - the protector of the Shieldings:
"O my friend Beowulf, you have come to us, ready for battle.
And for past services, you sought us out.
Your father waged the greatest of feuds and killed our kin.
He had gone to hand-to-hand combat with Heatholaf of the Wilfings.
But then he could not have the victory over that warrior
and so fled back to his people, the South Danes,
over the tossing waves, to the Shieldings.
And then I ruled the Danes' people for a long time,
and in my youth held great and splendid treasures.
Then a deadly fight killed Heregar, my elder brother,
who was better than I, after he had become my rival
in a feud for a woman. I sent the Wylfings,
across the rolling waters, treasures of peace,
and the truth of our oaths. But sorrow fills my mind
because of Grendel; no one knows what evils he plans.
The monster has committed wicked outrages in Heorot
and caused great terror to my warriors.
My troop is wasted and the hall is bloody;
death has taken away many a valiant warrior,
who would have defended the mead-hall
against Grendel, if they had the chance.
Now, let us take our seats at the banquet, and enjoy our feast.
May the warrior Sigehere attend to us, and hearten your spirit."
Then the Geatish men went to the hall together,
where the bench-planks were already laid.
The brave ones went to sit in their appointed places.
The one who carried ale poured it into a shining cup.
Sometimes the poet sang of Hildebrand's exploits,
sometimes of other ancient heroes, and sometimes of God's creation.
There was laughter and the noise of rejoicing in the hall,
among the Danes and Weders alike.
VIII
Hunferth spoke, son of Ecglaf,
who sat at the feet of the lord of the Scyldings.
He unlocked a word battle; he was envious
of Beowulf's great sea adventure
because he had never known anyone else
who had ever performed more glorious deeds on this earth
under heaven than himself.
"Are you the Beowulf who has struggled with Breca
in a swimming contest on the wide sea
where you two, out of pride, knew the waters
and foolishly risked your lives,
nor could either of you pay
for the sorrowful journey that you embarked upon, where you battled in the sea?
There you measured the ocean currents with your arms,
you tested the depths, you glided over the sea,
and for seven nights you endured it until you overcame Breca in the contest.
Greater strength had he when, at dawn,
he was borne up from the sea-cliff
than when he sought his dear country,
his beloved people, the land of the Brondings,
the fair peace city, where he ruled over people,
city and treasure, and kept his oath to you, son of Ecgtheow.
Yet I expect worse deeds from you,
though you have been proven in deadly combat
if you dare to confront Grendel in his nightlong raids."
Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, replied:
"What a lot of things you have said, my dear Hunferth,
drunken with beer, about Breca!
You said what you knew about his journey was true.
Indeed, I possessed more sea-strength
in hardships on the waves than any other man.
We two agreed to undertake that challenge
in our youth, and we fulfilled our promise.
For five nights we were together on the sea,
until the streaming currents separated us,
the coldest of weathers and north winds,
dark waves and the sea beasts stirred up.
The armor on my breast, hard hand-locked,
did me good service against the loathsome sea beasts.
A sword naked, though, I carried when we swam,
to protect us from the whale-fish.
Never did he go far away from me
into the flooded depths, nor would I have let him do so.
Then we were together on the sea
until the waves drove us apart, for the raging floods,
the coldest of weather, and the north wind.
The sea-beasts were stirred up; they were hostile
and the sea waves were fierce.
They covered me with a woven mail-coat
and it helped me against the hatred of my enemies.
The hard battle-armor lay upon my breast,
and was adorned with gold, which the foe-slayer had grasped.
Though the fiend fiercely attacked me, he came to grief,
for I reached him with my keen battle-sword.
I claimed a mighty sea-monster with my own hands."
VIIII
So, my kinsman welcomed the chance to get to grips with the foe;
Fiercely they threatened me; I served them well,
With my good sword, as it was fitting.
But they had no joy in the fight;
Those wicked sinners, forsooth, sought to kill me,
But they sat at the feast, near the sea-cliff.
In the morning, with my sword I wounded them,
As they lay where the tide left them.
With my blade I beat them, so that afterwards
No warriors, on the whale-road, would hinder me,
Nor would they let any dearth of light prevent
The bright sign of God, the flood-tide of the sea.
I could see the sea-cliffs,
The wind-swept walls; often fate saves
An undoomed man, when his courage holds.
Yet it happened to me, through my sword-strokes,
That I slew nine of the nicors.
Never heard I of harder hand-play,
Under the vault of heaven, nor of anyone
In the waves of the sea who, sword in hand,
In a harder fight did better.
Weary with my journey, I laid aside my sword,
And, on the shore of the sea,
Fell asleep. The waves carried me
Over the ocean, to the land of the Finns.
I have not heard of a more deadly struggle,
Nor of the terror of Grendel, than of your own.
You are able to suffer it, my son,
Your life, your wit, so long as your strength endures.
If your spirit were as fierce as you claim,
my friend, there would be no need for fear in Heorot.
But Grendel has discovered that he need not fear
the brutal edge of your sharp sword, nor any man’s attack.
He slaughters the Danes with impunity and revels in their destruction,
then sleeps and sends word that he expects no reprisal.
He thinks he need not fear the Geats,
but I shall soon show him what a brave and mighty warrior can do.
I will summon my courage and strength to do battle,
and tomorrow, at dawn, when the sun shines upon the earth,
I will go to fight Grendel, the terror of the Danes.
When the lord of the Danes, the gray-haired and battle-scarred king,
heard of my resolve, he rejoiced and praised me.
The protector of the people was pleased with my bold plan.
Laughter echoed through the hall as the warriors feasted,
and Queen Wealhtheow, mindful of her duty to her people,
graciously presented me with treasure and bade me enjoy the feast.
The young and old alike, both brave warriors and eager youths,
shared in the bounty and raised their cups in honor of the victorious king.
Then the helmeted queen, the noble and gracious lady,
went to greet the Geatish hero and offered him a cup of mead.
She thanked God for bringing him to their aid,
and praised his wise and noble words.
She trusted in his courage to provide solace from their troubles,
and hoped he would slay the fearsome monster.
And Beowulf, eager for battle, spoke to his host:
"When I leapt into the sea and embarked on this quest,
I resolved to do great deeds and achieve immortal fame."
I sat on the sea-boat with my company of men,
that is, all of your people,
I desire to accomplish their will or perish in the slaughter.
I must fasten the bonds of enemies with hostile grips,
or with noble courage meet my end-day
waiting in this mead-hall.
The words of the woman pleased them well,
the boastful speech of the lady in gold-adorned attire
the noble lady sat by her lord.
Then again as before, in the hall
words of power were spoken by the nation in the hall of feasts,
the sound of victorious people until suddenly
the son of Halfdan sought evening rest.
He knew the hall of the high building
when they were able to see the light of the sun,
or when the shadowy shape of night came over all,
the creation of darkness glided forth
pale under the clouds, the entire host rose up.
Then Hrothgar greeted the other man, Beowulf,
and bade him hail.
He spoke of the wine-hall and of his dominion,
"I have never allowed anyone before,
since I could lift hand and shield,
to enter the mighty hall of the Danes
except now, and guard this best of houses.
Remember your fame, show your great strength,
watch against the enemy's anger.
Do not lose your life, if you can endure the valiant deed."
X
Then Hrothgar departed, surrounded by his retinue of warriors,
the mighty lord of the Danes leaving the hall.
The protector of his people wished to seek out Wealhtheow,
the queen, to offer his respects; the king of glory
was ready to face Grendel, as the men had learned.
The hall guard, who had witnessed the entire scene,
set to watch the water, to prevent any unexpected danger
from the sea-monsters, while the prince of the Geats
trusted eagerly in his great strength and the favor of God.
When he removed his iron byrnie,
the lord of the Geats handed his helmet and ornate sword
to his retainer, the best of iron-workers, and commanded him
to keep guard over his battle-dress.
Then the great warrior spoke bold words,
Beowulf of the Geats, before he climbed into bed:
"I do not consider myself less equipped for battle
than Grendel, so I will not use a sword
to take his life, nor will I, even though I may,
resort to treachery. I know he will not experience
the kindness of weapons, but of that I am not sure,
that he and I will not struggle against each other,
that he and I will not enter into battle.
If he wishes to try it, let him take up arms,
and we will settle the matter with our war-gear,
and then the all-knowing God, the holy Lord,
will decide who shall be given glory according to his judgement.
The fierce warrior rested then, his head on the bolster,
the face of the earl-like hero, and many men around him
assembled in the hall, strong soldiers, who would soon
have to endure the terrible assault of their enemy.
None of them thought that he would ever go back,
to see the people and the castle that he loved.
For they had learned that many of the Danes
had perished in that very wine-hall, victims of slaughter,
slain by a deadly foe, but the Lord had given
the Weathor-Geats, his people, comfort and help,
and, through his own strength, he had overcome
all of their foes. Thus it is well-known
that the mighty God rules over mankind,
and he came in that dark night, gliding through shadows,
the enemy of mankind; the archer-sentinels slept,
while those guarding the horned hall kept watch.
Except for one man, it was widely known
that no one dared to touch the meat, because he who did not wish to die
had to abide by the law of the monster,
who lay in wait in the shadows. But the wicked one,
in his malice, waited eagerly for battle,
hungering for conflict with the humans.
XI
Then out of the moor, under misty hills,
Grendel came walking, carrying God's anger;
the infamous killer intended to set
upon that high hall a trap for men,
until he knew the golden-hall, best of buildings,
stood waiting for him with stout-hearted thanes.
It was not the first time he sought Hrothgar's home,
but never before or since had the hard-hearted
creature found a band of harder warriors.
He came then to the hall, the warrior-ranger;
the door soon yielded, although fast with bands,
after he laid his hands on it.
The evil-hearted one, who was angry, quickly broke
the door of the hall and strode across the shining floor;
the raging beast's eyes stood fixed upon him
as he moved, most like a light of unfriendly nature.
He saw within the hall many sleeping warriors,
a company at rest, all together;
the powerful force of young retainers, their spirit smote.
He thought to divide them, before day should come,
the dire ravager, of each and every one's life.
But the cruel creature did not think to wait,
rather he quickly seized, first time round,
a sleeping warrior, unprepared;
bit into his bone-lattice, drank of his blood,
swallowed down the sinews, everything;
the lifeless corpse he completely consumed.
The fiendish stranger stepped forward with his hand
against the company's chief who lay sleeping,
seizing quickly with his claw the warrior on the couch;
he attacked with hostile intention and sat with his hand over him,
but soon discovered he had never met in the world
on the earth's surface a harder grip from another man's hand;
he was seized with fear in his heart and could not flee further away.
His mind was hoping for a place of darkness;
the monster wanted to drag him to his den,
but he had not met with a greater struggle in his days of life,
nor in his lifetime, before or since.
The good warrior, the son of Hygelac, remembered
the evening talk; he stood lengthwise,
and his fingers burst forth with a firm grip,
the giant was outward bound, the warrior stepped further.
The renowned one intended, as far as he could,
to twist away, and flee thence on the plain,
to seek the fen and the protection of his fingers,
he had been caught in a fierce grip by the hostile one,
who fiercely drew him towards the hall.
The hall resounded, the Danes all were terrified,
each one of the citizens of the city was anxious;
the warriors were drunken with ale, both were furious.
The fierce guardians of the kingdom trembled, the hall resounded,
then there was a great wonder in the wine-hall:
the hardy one withstood his fierce opponent
so that he did not fall on the ground,
the fair hall held fast, both inside and out,
smoothered with iron bands, bent down from the weight.
Many a mead-bench known to me was decorated with gold,
where the fierce ones fought, which the wise men of the Scyldings
had never thought that any man alive
could break, destroy with cunning, except by the fire's embrace.
The sound rose up, tumultuously, to the sky.
New terror stood firm among the North Danes;
dreadful horror was on each one
of those who from the wall had heard the cry;
the song of terror, the enemy of God,
the joyless sound of defeat, rose up,
held fast in hell by him who had been, of all men,
the strongest in might on that day of this life.
The protector of earls did not want, for anything,
to leave alive the one who comes to murder.
No one considered his days of life
of use to any people, when he most twisted
Beowulf's old heirloom;
he wanted to save the life of the noble lord
where they were able.
They did not know then, when they went to war,
hard-fighting warriors,
on each side, they intended to hew
to seek the soul of the sinful one.
None of the best of irons,
none of the war-bills, wanted to greet him,
but he had forsworn victory-weapons
and his life-span must be concluded
on that day of his life,
wretched, and the alien spirit
must journey far into the power of foes.
Then he who had many times before
committed wrongs against the race of men
found it out, the joy of the mind,
hostile against God.
His body would not last for him,
but the arrogant one, the strong-minded,
had in his grasp a harder life's lot;
hateful, he waited for his last day,
the evil monster; on his shoulder appeared
visible marks, his sinews sprang apart,
the joint-lock burst; to Beowulf
the gift of battle had to come from that,
and Grendel had to flee death-sick
under the mountain-slopes, to seek his joyless dwelling,
knowing well that his end of life
had arrived, that the duration of his days was gone.
The dread of the days, for all the Danes,
had passed away after that carnage.
The one who came from afar had cleansed,
wise and valiant, the hall of Hrothgar
from enmity; he had accomplished work at night
for the glory of the Geatish people.
Likewise he completely remedied
the internal sorrow which they had earlier suffered,
and they had to endure distress, and experience a brief absence of consolation.
That was plainly seen as a token,
when the warrior laid down his hand,
his arm and shoulder, all together,
Grendel's clutch, under the spacious roof.
I work primarily on contemporary science fiction and fantasy these days, but, even though my Old English has certainly gotten a little rusty, I was originally trained as a medievalist. Lately my head has been very much in the 21st century, as I’ve been mainly teaching and writing on recent representations of artificial intelligence in literature and film. But the other day I was intrigued to discover my two academic worlds potentially converging: I learned that ChatGPT claims fluency in both Middle English and Old English. I don’t do much work in medieval studies myself these days, but I would love to encourage other medievalists to reflect on the facility of such large language models with premodern languages, and what their level of competence (or incompetence) might tell us.
ChatGPT will gamely translate lines of Old and Middle English into modern English, and will also readily compose its own Old English poetry if asked. In the hopes of calling attention to the potential for medievalists to comment on such AI tools and their “understanding” of premodern languages, I decided to set ChatGPT the eye-catching task of translating Beowulf into modern English. The process can be a little tricky, because ChatGPT will only translate a few dozen lines at once, and sometimes fail to translate lines without explanation if you give it too many at once. Rather than produce a translation of the entire poem at once, then, I decided to go ahead and post just the first 836 lines, up through the fight with Grendel.
To produce this translation, I used the current public iteration of ChatGPT (Mar 23 version), and asked for translations of successive passages from Beowulf, which may explain some variation in the approach to translation from section to section. Without further ado, here is ChatGPT’s attempt at the first 836 lines:
Lo, we have heard of the glory of the kings of the people in days of yore,
how the noble princes performed brave deeds.
Often Scyld Scefing seized mead-benches from enemy troops,
terrorized earls, after he was first found helpless and abandoned.
He grew under the clouds, prospering in honors,
until all those around him had to heed him,
and yield him tribute. He was a good king.
To him was born a son, a young child in those days,
whom God sent as a comfort to the people,
who saw the need for a leader, as they had before
lived without a lord for a long time. The Lord, ruler of all,
granted him worldly success for a time.
Beowulf was famous; his fame spread widely,
Scyld's son, throughout the lands.
So shall a young man build a good reputation
with generous gifts from his father's treasure in his keeping,
so that in his old age, when war comes,
his comrades will stand by him and aid him.
People will then praise his deeds in every clan.
When Scyld departed at the appointed time,
fated to his death, his people carried him
to the sea's edge, to his sweet comrades,
as he himself had asked, while he ruled his people with words.
Beloved land's ruler, he long possessed
the seat by the shore, where the ring-stemmed ship stood
frosty and foreign, the prince's vessel.
They laid their dear lord, the giver of rings,
on the ship's bosom, the mighty by the mast.
Many treasures from distant lands were brought to him.
I have not heard of a more splendid ship
loaded with weapons and battle-gear, swords and mail,
wherein lay many treasures that were to go far
with him into the waters, at his own will.
Nor have I heard of men more valiant
in battle or on the sea than his chosen comrades.
They did not give him fewer gifts, treasures of the people,
than those who sent him forth, at his first beginning,
across the waves, alone over the deep sea.
Then they set up a golden banner high above his head,
let the waves carry him, gave him to the deep sea.
His heart was sad, his spirit mournful,
men could not say with certainty who took that load
of treasure, that vast wealth.
I
Then in the cities was Beowulf the Scylding,
the beloved king of the people, for a long time,
known among the folk; his father departed elsewhere
from this earth, until he again awakened
High Halfdane, who ruled while he lived,
old and war-fierce, gladdened the Scyldings,
to him were born four children, multiplied
in the world, the rush of armies:
Heorogar, and Hrothgar, and the holy Halga;
I have heard that Elan queen was to Yrse,
the bed-companion of the Heatho-Scylfings.
Then to Hrothgar was given military honor
of war, his glory in battle, so that his companions
eagerly obeyed him until the young grew up,
a great company of kinsmen; they in their minds desired
to build a hall, which they called Heorot.
A great mead-hall; men should ever hear of it,
and within it all share out
to young and old such things as God had given them,
except for common land and the lives of men.
Then I heard widely that work had been banned,
by many people, throughout this middle-earth,
to adorn their settlements; it happened quickly,
most magnificent of halls; he gave it a heart-name,
he who had wide power of speech.
He did not break his vow; he dealt out rings,
treasure at the feast; the hall towered high,
and horned-gables awaited the surge of war,
the hateful flames. It was not long then
before the ancient feud, the oath-sworn,
after the deadly enmity, had to awaken,
then the fierce guest, enduringly,
endured difficulty, he who dwelt in darkness,
who every day heard joy in the hall,
loud in the hall, where the harp's sound was,
clear song, he who knew the origin of men...
The Almighty made the earth,
beautiful fields, walled-in water,
established triumphant, the sun and the moon,
lights for land-dwellers, and adorned
the surface of the earth, with limbs and leaves,
every kind of creatures, that live and move.
So the warriors lived in joys,
blissfully, until one began,
a fiend from hell, to perpetrate wickedness,
that fierce spirit, called Grendel,
the great boundary-stalker, who held the moors,
the fens, and strongholds, the land of the misbegotten,
the miserable creature, for a while watched over,
until the Creator, the Eternal Lord,
revenged the killing of Abel,
the offspring of Cain; he did not enjoy that feud,
but God drove him far from the human race,
for that murder, and all monsters
awakened there, giants, elves, and orcs,
as well as the giants, who battled against God
for a long time; he rewarded them for that.
II
What happened then, after nightfall,
that the warriors of the ring-Danes
had to bow to the ground in their hall?
There, in the hall, they found
a company of noble warriors asleep,
but sorrow and wretchedness and misery
and a terrible fate were upon them.
The fierce and greedy, ready at once,
restless and ruthless, seized thirty thanes,
and then went out, exultant in their spoil,
to seek their lair, gloating over their booty.
Then, at dawn, in the day's first light,
the warriors marvelled at Grendel's power,
and after the feasting they raised a cry
of great mourning, the great lord,
the noble and good prince, sat in sadness,
enduring fierce grief, when they saw
the loathsome monster's trail, how fierce and great
was the contest, the long and bitter strife.
But no sooner did the dark-hearted demon
perform greater murder-deeds than he,
enmity and malice were firmly established
there, and it was easy to find him
resting elsewhere, after the conflict,
his lair marked by a terrible token,
the heat of his hatred burned, and he held
the fastness against all, until it stood empty,
the best of houses. For twelve winters, he endured
sorrow, the dear lord of the Shieldings,
great afflictions and the enmity of many nations.
So cruel was his fate that the children of men
heard of his sufferings, his misery in songs,
how Grendel harassed him for a time,
heated hatreds and acts of hostility, for many seasons.
The hall rang with a sound of constant strife;
no peace was to be had with any man, however mighty
a champion of valor from afar might come to test his strength.
No living soul knew where those helmed demons
went walking in their wandering, nor the depths
of human depravity which the accursed fiend wrought.
The hardy-hearted hero stayed in the hall.
In the blackness of night, the shining palace lay idle,
the gift-seat could not be approached
nor was there anyone to know its secret workings.
A great vengeance befell the friends of the Scyldings,
many sat mournfully and listened to stories
of the powerful in counsel, wondering what would be best
to defend themselves against insidious foes.
At times they made vows to the ancient stones,
pleading for victory in battle. Their destroyer had laid a curse upon them,
and the heathen had their hope in hell.
They knew not the true creator, the judge of their deeds.
Nor did they glorify the Lord of Heaven,
the ruler of glory. Woeful is the one who must,
through fierce enmity, thrust his soul
into the fire's embrace, finding no comfort,
no turning back from his fate. But happy is he
who, after his death day, can seek the Lord's embrace,
longing for peace in the Father's embrace.
III
Then the son of Halfdan, the warrior of the Geats,
experienced great affliction; the cunning hero
could not alter the wickedness of fate. The conflict
was too strong, hostile and long-lasting,
the affliction and grim hatred of the night-terror
that descended upon the people. From his home, Hygelac's thane
heard tell of the deeds of Grendel; the good warrior
was the strongest of all mankind on that day of his life,
noble and powerful, and he commanded that
a good ship be readied for him. He said that he,
the war-king, would cross the swan-road in search of
the renowned lord who was in need of men. Wise men
scarcely dissuaded him, though he was dear to them;
the valiant ones beheld the good omen.
The good prince of the Geats chose
fifteen warriors, the bravest among them,
and went to the sea. A wise man showed them
the way, a skilful sailor; the time passed,
the boat was on the waves beneath the cliffs.
The warriors were ready, they climbed up onto the prow,
the water churned as they sailed the sea,
the men carried their shining armour,
their war-gear, as they went over the deep sea.
The wood of the ship creaked on the waves;
they reached land, the sea-cliffs shone,
the wide promontories, and the water lay behind them.
The Weders stepped ashore, they hauled their ship
onto the sand, and they shook out their mail-shirts.
Of war-weeds they then offered thanks
For that which easily had been granted them.
From the wall then the watch of the Scyldings
Beheld him who the ocean-cliffs
Was to guard and to bear over the bulwarks
Bright, gleaming shields.
The armour caught his eye,
And his curiosity was aroused
As to who those men were with their proud mien.
He went to the shore to ride his horse,
Hrothgar's thane, full of valor,
In splendid weapons he was adorned
And with great strength he inquired in words.
"What sort of warriors are you
Who clad in byrnies came here
Over the sea-road with your bronzed ship?
Never have I seen a more noble
Company of earls on earth.
You, sir, with your cunning,
Are no common sailor,
Unless your appearance deceives me.
Your noble mien cannot be hidden,
And now I must know
Your lineage and home,
Before you further pass
As strangers in this land of the Danes."
IIII
The oldest of them answered,
The wisest of the warriors unlocked his word-hoard:
"We are the people of the Geats,
And the companions of Hygelac.
My father, noble and renowned among his people,
Was named Ecgtheow. He lived many winters
Before he departed elsewhere from the world.
Many wise men, far and wide across the earth,
Remember him with respect.
We have come to seek your lord and protector,
The son of Half-Dane, O Beowulf.
We ask that you, good teacher,
Have mercy on us and tell us truly,
Do not keep anything secret.
We heard, in truth, that there is no better warrior
In the world than you are.
We have a great mission
For the lord of the Danes. There must not be
Any secrets, I believe you know if it is so.
We truly heard that you are, with the Scyldings,
A fighter unknown to anyone.
A secret evildoer goes about at night
Committing heinous acts, and through fear
Of him, the humbled and helpless endure
Oppression and terror. I know that I can
Advise Hrothgar to find a way,
If that wise and good king should ever have
The misfortune of facing such a foe.
If troubles come, he can, after suffering through them,
Expect some compensation.
Or if after violence, hardship and afflictions,
They should endure miseries, where they must remain
In the highest place, the best of homes.
The watchman spoke, who sat on the ship:
"A brave servant must be fearless in every way,
Skilled in battle, knowing how to speak and act.
Whoever thinks wisely will understand that
This is a friendly group, the warriors of the Scyldings.
You must go forth, bearing
Weapons and armor, and I will guide you.
I will command my own followers
Against any foe, and guard your ship
Against wrath, while you are away.”
V
The path was of stone, steep and winding.
Together with their war-gear gleaming,
The warriors marched, with strong, hand-crafted
Shields and bright, ringed mailcoats,
As they approached the hall, adorned
With their grim attire, they moved forward.
They set down their sea-wood, broad shields
Hard as rain, against the wall of the hall.
They then turned to benches, ringing their mailcoats,
Their battle-gear of spears standing by,
Together with the skillful craftsmanship
Of sea-man's weapons. Above their benches,
Gray ash-spears, the iron-clad troop,
Their armor proudly displayed.
The proud warriors then inquired about the hall's
Defenders, after their journey.
"From where do you carry your shining shields,
Gray shirts, and fierce helmets?
I am Hrothgar's counselor and servant,
Old and experienced in battle and rule."
"I have not seen many brave men like you,
Foreigners so brave, I assume you have come
Not for humiliation but rather for glory,
To seek Hrothgar's favor and honor."
The valiant warrior then replied with courage,
Proud hero of the Weder people:
"Hard under helm, Higelac's kinsman,
Beowulf is my name. I have come to you
Great Lord, to deliver my message to your ear,
If you allow me to greet you,
And grant us your gracious favor,
That we may exchange words with your people."
Wulfgar then spoke, he was Wendla's kin,
Well known for his wisdom and courage:
"My Lord, here are strangers who have come
From a far-off land, over the seas
These are the bravest of Geats,
And their leader is called Beowulf.
They have come to your hall,
Hoping to exchange words with you.
Do not deny them your kindness and favor,
O Hrothgar, for these warriors deserve your respect,
They are worthy of your honor and friendship."
VI
Hrothgar spoke, protector of the helmeted Scyldings:
"I knew him, when he was a boy;
his elder father was called Ecgtheow.
He gave him, to be raised in his home,
Hrethel the Geat's own son, his own kin.
His only heir is here now, and he,
a hardy warrior, has sought a loyal friend.
They who had crossed the wide sea
sent him treasures, a sign of their gratitude.
Thirty men's power is in his grip,
as he holds the battle-terror.
May the holy God, for his old nobility,
grant him glory and send him help,
to the West-Danes, as I expect.
Against Grendel's terror, I shall
offer this good man, for his courage,
precious gifts. Be ready to go quickly.
Together let us see the peaceable retinue.
Tell them with words that they are welcome
to the Danish people."
There was much more to say, but Hrothgar's servant
said it more directly.
"My lord, the king of the East-Danes,
sent me to ask if you know
your noble lineage and if you, beyond the sea,
are one of the hard-minded warriors
who accompanied Higelac here.
Beowulf spoke, his byrnie shining:
"Hrothgar, king of the Danes, I have come to you
because of the stories of your mighty strength,
which my people, themselves mighty, have learned.
They told me that your hall is the finest
of buildings, for every noble warrior;
it stands empty and useless after dark,
hidden under the bright sky of heaven.
Wise men taught me that you, the protector of warriors,
would not forbid me, great friend of the people,
if I alone, with my band of earls,
should risk my life, with this band of warriors,
to fight this enemy.
I also heard that this cruel creature,
for his arrogance, pays no heed to weapons.
But I consider him less fearsome,
for my king, the Lord of men, is glad in spirit
when I bear my sword or shining shield,
yellow and ornamented, to battle.
I will grapple with the fiend, struggle with the foe,
despite his wickedness; I must believe
that, according to the Lord's will, he will decide
which one of us death's hand will take.
I expect that he will, if he is able,
in the battle-hall, with the troop of Geats,
devour food unafraid, as he has oft before,
the bold-mettled one. The brave warriors
need not boast of their prowess; they are too certain
of my spirit. The thane in whom the courage
of a soldier is the greatest, the good
man, need not hide his head, but he will have me
stained with blood, if death takes me away. He will bear
bloody weapons, and will think about my body,
consumed alone; he will mark the place
of my mangled flesh: nor need you, for that, care
about my corpse when you think of food for your
grieving body. Send to Hygelac, if the battle
takes me off, the best of battle-garments
that protects my breast, the most glorious of vests.
It is a relic of Hrethel, and has long been in the family;
may it lead my spirit on the same path as fate."
VII
Hrothgar spoke - the protector of the Shieldings:
"O my friend Beowulf, you have come to us, ready for battle.
And for past services, you sought us out.
Your father waged the greatest of feuds and killed our kin.
He had gone to hand-to-hand combat with Heatholaf of the Wilfings.
But then he could not have the victory over that warrior
and so fled back to his people, the South Danes,
over the tossing waves, to the Shieldings.
And then I ruled the Danes' people for a long time,
and in my youth held great and splendid treasures.
Then a deadly fight killed Heregar, my elder brother,
who was better than I, after he had become my rival
in a feud for a woman. I sent the Wylfings,
across the rolling waters, treasures of peace,
and the truth of our oaths. But sorrow fills my mind
because of Grendel; no one knows what evils he plans.
The monster has committed wicked outrages in Heorot
and caused great terror to my warriors.
My troop is wasted and the hall is bloody;
death has taken away many a valiant warrior,
who would have defended the mead-hall
against Grendel, if they had the chance.
Now, let us take our seats at the banquet, and enjoy our feast.
May the warrior Sigehere attend to us, and hearten your spirit."
Then the Geatish men went to the hall together,
where the bench-planks were already laid.
The brave ones went to sit in their appointed places.
The one who carried ale poured it into a shining cup.
Sometimes the poet sang of Hildebrand's exploits,
sometimes of other ancient heroes, and sometimes of God's creation.
There was laughter and the noise of rejoicing in the hall,
among the Danes and Weders alike.
VIII
Hunferth spoke, son of Ecglaf,
who sat at the feet of the lord of the Scyldings.
He unlocked a word battle; he was envious
of Beowulf's great sea adventure
because he had never known anyone else
who had ever performed more glorious deeds on this earth
under heaven than himself.
"Are you the Beowulf who has struggled with Breca
in a swimming contest on the wide sea
where you two, out of pride, knew the waters
and foolishly risked your lives,
nor could either of you pay
for the sorrowful journey that you embarked upon, where you battled in the sea?
There you measured the ocean currents with your arms,
you tested the depths, you glided over the sea,
and for seven nights you endured it until you overcame Breca in the contest.
Greater strength had he when, at dawn,
he was borne up from the sea-cliff
than when he sought his dear country,
his beloved people, the land of the Brondings,
the fair peace city, where he ruled over people,
city and treasure, and kept his oath to you, son of Ecgtheow.
Yet I expect worse deeds from you,
though you have been proven in deadly combat
if you dare to confront Grendel in his nightlong raids."
Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, replied:
"What a lot of things you have said, my dear Hunferth,
drunken with beer, about Breca!
You said what you knew about his journey was true.
Indeed, I possessed more sea-strength
in hardships on the waves than any other man.
We two agreed to undertake that challenge
in our youth, and we fulfilled our promise.
For five nights we were together on the sea,
until the streaming currents separated us,
the coldest of weathers and north winds,
dark waves and the sea beasts stirred up.
The armor on my breast, hard hand-locked,
did me good service against the loathsome sea beasts.
A sword naked, though, I carried when we swam,
to protect us from the whale-fish.
Never did he go far away from me
into the flooded depths, nor would I have let him do so.
Then we were together on the sea
until the waves drove us apart, for the raging floods,
the coldest of weather, and the north wind.
The sea-beasts were stirred up; they were hostile
and the sea waves were fierce.
They covered me with a woven mail-coat
and it helped me against the hatred of my enemies.
The hard battle-armor lay upon my breast,
and was adorned with gold, which the foe-slayer had grasped.
Though the fiend fiercely attacked me, he came to grief,
for I reached him with my keen battle-sword.
I claimed a mighty sea-monster with my own hands."
VIIII
So, my kinsman welcomed the chance to get to grips with the foe;
Fiercely they threatened me; I served them well,
With my good sword, as it was fitting.
But they had no joy in the fight;
Those wicked sinners, forsooth, sought to kill me,
But they sat at the feast, near the sea-cliff.
In the morning, with my sword I wounded them,
As they lay where the tide left them.
With my blade I beat them, so that afterwards
No warriors, on the whale-road, would hinder me,
Nor would they let any dearth of light prevent
The bright sign of God, the flood-tide of the sea.
I could see the sea-cliffs,
The wind-swept walls; often fate saves
An undoomed man, when his courage holds.
Yet it happened to me, through my sword-strokes,
That I slew nine of the nicors.
Never heard I of harder hand-play,
Under the vault of heaven, nor of anyone
In the waves of the sea who, sword in hand,
In a harder fight did better.
Weary with my journey, I laid aside my sword,
And, on the shore of the sea,
Fell asleep. The waves carried me
Over the ocean, to the land of the Finns.
I have not heard of a more deadly struggle,
Nor of the terror of Grendel, than of your own.
You are able to suffer it, my son,
Your life, your wit, so long as your strength endures.
If your spirit were as fierce as you claim,
my friend, there would be no need for fear in Heorot.
But Grendel has discovered that he need not fear
the brutal edge of your sharp sword, nor any man’s attack.
He slaughters the Danes with impunity and revels in their destruction,
then sleeps and sends word that he expects no reprisal.
He thinks he need not fear the Geats,
but I shall soon show him what a brave and mighty warrior can do.
I will summon my courage and strength to do battle,
and tomorrow, at dawn, when the sun shines upon the earth,
I will go to fight Grendel, the terror of the Danes.
When the lord of the Danes, the gray-haired and battle-scarred king,
heard of my resolve, he rejoiced and praised me.
The protector of the people was pleased with my bold plan.
Laughter echoed through the hall as the warriors feasted,
and Queen Wealhtheow, mindful of her duty to her people,
graciously presented me with treasure and bade me enjoy the feast.
The young and old alike, both brave warriors and eager youths,
shared in the bounty and raised their cups in honor of the victorious king.
Then the helmeted queen, the noble and gracious lady,
went to greet the Geatish hero and offered him a cup of mead.
She thanked God for bringing him to their aid,
and praised his wise and noble words.
She trusted in his courage to provide solace from their troubles,
and hoped he would slay the fearsome monster.
And Beowulf, eager for battle, spoke to his host:
"When I leapt into the sea and embarked on this quest,
I resolved to do great deeds and achieve immortal fame."
I sat on the sea-boat with my company of men,
that is, all of your people,
I desire to accomplish their will or perish in the slaughter.
I must fasten the bonds of enemies with hostile grips,
or with noble courage meet my end-day
waiting in this mead-hall.
The words of the woman pleased them well,
the boastful speech of the lady in gold-adorned attire
the noble lady sat by her lord.
Then again as before, in the hall
words of power were spoken by the nation in the hall of feasts,
the sound of victorious people until suddenly
the son of Halfdan sought evening rest.
He knew the hall of the high building
when they were able to see the light of the sun,
or when the shadowy shape of night came over all,
the creation of darkness glided forth
pale under the clouds, the entire host rose up.
Then Hrothgar greeted the other man, Beowulf,
and bade him hail.
He spoke of the wine-hall and of his dominion,
"I have never allowed anyone before,
since I could lift hand and shield,
to enter the mighty hall of the Danes
except now, and guard this best of houses.
Remember your fame, show your great strength,
watch against the enemy's anger.
Do not lose your life, if you can endure the valiant deed."
X
Then Hrothgar departed, surrounded by his retinue of warriors,
the mighty lord of the Danes leaving the hall.
The protector of his people wished to seek out Wealhtheow,
the queen, to offer his respects; the king of glory
was ready to face Grendel, as the men had learned.
The hall guard, who had witnessed the entire scene,
set to watch the water, to prevent any unexpected danger
from the sea-monsters, while the prince of the Geats
trusted eagerly in his great strength and the favor of God.
When he removed his iron byrnie,
the lord of the Geats handed his helmet and ornate sword
to his retainer, the best of iron-workers, and commanded him
to keep guard over his battle-dress.
Then the great warrior spoke bold words,
Beowulf of the Geats, before he climbed into bed:
"I do not consider myself less equipped for battle
than Grendel, so I will not use a sword
to take his life, nor will I, even though I may,
resort to treachery. I know he will not experience
the kindness of weapons, but of that I am not sure,
that he and I will not struggle against each other,
that he and I will not enter into battle.
If he wishes to try it, let him take up arms,
and we will settle the matter with our war-gear,
and then the all-knowing God, the holy Lord,
will decide who shall be given glory according to his judgement.
The fierce warrior rested then, his head on the bolster,
the face of the earl-like hero, and many men around him
assembled in the hall, strong soldiers, who would soon
have to endure the terrible assault of their enemy.
None of them thought that he would ever go back,
to see the people and the castle that he loved.
For they had learned that many of the Danes
had perished in that very wine-hall, victims of slaughter,
slain by a deadly foe, but the Lord had given
the Weathor-Geats, his people, comfort and help,
and, through his own strength, he had overcome
all of their foes. Thus it is well-known
that the mighty God rules over mankind,
and he came in that dark night, gliding through shadows,
the enemy of mankind; the archer-sentinels slept,
while those guarding the horned hall kept watch.
Except for one man, it was widely known
that no one dared to touch the meat, because he who did not wish to die
had to abide by the law of the monster,
who lay in wait in the shadows. But the wicked one,
in his malice, waited eagerly for battle,
hungering for conflict with the humans.
XI
Then out of the moor, under misty hills,
Grendel came walking, carrying God's anger;
the infamous killer intended to set
upon that high hall a trap for men,
until he knew the golden-hall, best of buildings,
stood waiting for him with stout-hearted thanes.
It was not the first time he sought Hrothgar's home,
but never before or since had the hard-hearted
creature found a band of harder warriors.
He came then to the hall, the warrior-ranger;
the door soon yielded, although fast with bands,
after he laid his hands on it.
The evil-hearted one, who was angry, quickly broke
the door of the hall and strode across the shining floor;
the raging beast's eyes stood fixed upon him
as he moved, most like a light of unfriendly nature.
He saw within the hall many sleeping warriors,
a company at rest, all together;
the powerful force of young retainers, their spirit smote.
He thought to divide them, before day should come,
the dire ravager, of each and every one's life.
But the cruel creature did not think to wait,
rather he quickly seized, first time round,
a sleeping warrior, unprepared;
bit into his bone-lattice, drank of his blood,
swallowed down the sinews, everything;
the lifeless corpse he completely consumed.
The fiendish stranger stepped forward with his hand
against the company's chief who lay sleeping,
seizing quickly with his claw the warrior on the couch;
he attacked with hostile intention and sat with his hand over him,
but soon discovered he had never met in the world
on the earth's surface a harder grip from another man's hand;
he was seized with fear in his heart and could not flee further away.
His mind was hoping for a place of darkness;
the monster wanted to drag him to his den,
but he had not met with a greater struggle in his days of life,
nor in his lifetime, before or since.
The good warrior, the son of Hygelac, remembered
the evening talk; he stood lengthwise,
and his fingers burst forth with a firm grip,
the giant was outward bound, the warrior stepped further.
The renowned one intended, as far as he could,
to twist away, and flee thence on the plain,
to seek the fen and the protection of his fingers,
he had been caught in a fierce grip by the hostile one,
who fiercely drew him towards the hall.
The hall resounded, the Danes all were terrified,
each one of the citizens of the city was anxious;
the warriors were drunken with ale, both were furious.
The fierce guardians of the kingdom trembled, the hall resounded,
then there was a great wonder in the wine-hall:
the hardy one withstood his fierce opponent
so that he did not fall on the ground,
the fair hall held fast, both inside and out,
smoothered with iron bands, bent down from the weight.
Many a mead-bench known to me was decorated with gold,
where the fierce ones fought, which the wise men of the Scyldings
had never thought that any man alive
could break, destroy with cunning, except by the fire's embrace.
The sound rose up, tumultuously, to the sky.
New terror stood firm among the North Danes;
dreadful horror was on each one
of those who from the wall had heard the cry;
the song of terror, the enemy of God,
the joyless sound of defeat, rose up,
held fast in hell by him who had been, of all men,
the strongest in might on that day of this life.
The protector of earls did not want, for anything,
to leave alive the one who comes to murder.
No one considered his days of life
of use to any people, when he most twisted
Beowulf's old heirloom;
he wanted to save the life of the noble lord
where they were able.
They did not know then, when they went to war,
hard-fighting warriors,
on each side, they intended to hew
to seek the soul of the sinful one.
None of the best of irons,
none of the war-bills, wanted to greet him,
but he had forsworn victory-weapons
and his life-span must be concluded
on that day of his life,
wretched, and the alien spirit
must journey far into the power of foes.
Then he who had many times before
committed wrongs against the race of men
found it out, the joy of the mind,
hostile against God.
His body would not last for him,
but the arrogant one, the strong-minded,
had in his grasp a harder life's lot;
hateful, he waited for his last day,
the evil monster; on his shoulder appeared
visible marks, his sinews sprang apart,
the joint-lock burst; to Beowulf
the gift of battle had to come from that,
and Grendel had to flee death-sick
under the mountain-slopes, to seek his joyless dwelling,
knowing well that his end of life
had arrived, that the duration of his days was gone.
The dread of the days, for all the Danes,
had passed away after that carnage.
The one who came from afar had cleansed,
wise and valiant, the hall of Hrothgar
from enmity; he had accomplished work at night
for the glory of the Geatish people.
Likewise he completely remedied
the internal sorrow which they had earlier suffered,
and they had to endure distress, and experience a brief absence of consolation.
That was plainly seen as a token,
when the warrior laid down his hand,
his arm and shoulder, all together,
Grendel's clutch, under the spacious roof.
