Then a gory trail left by Swedes and Geats,
from the storm of killing, could be seen from afar,
how the fury of their fighting boiled with blood.
The bold Swedish king then went with his kinsmen,
old and much-saddened, to seek his stronghold;
noble Ongentheow turned to leave the battle behind.
For he had heard of Hygelac’s fighting strength,
the proud man’s war-skill, and could not be confident
that he would be able to stave off the seamen,
to hold the hoard safely, with children and wife,
against these sea-warriors. So the old king turned away,
standing behind the earth-wall. Then the men of the Swedes
were pressed in pursuit, when the standard of Hygelac
completely ran over the refuge of their stronghold,
as the Geatish warriors broke through their walls.
Then blades of swords forced the gray-haired Swede
to stay and stand fast there by the rampart,
so this king of his people had to submit
to the sentence of Eofer alone. He was struck
with the weapon of Wulf, son of Wonred,
ay so blood from that blow sprang forth from his veins,
from under his hair. Still he felt no fear,
this aged Scylfing, but struck back with his blade—
far worse in reply than the fierce blow he received—
when the king of his people turned to face him.
Nor was the strong son of Wonred then able
to strike a blow back to answer the old man,
who had cut through the helmet on Wulf’s head,
so that stained with blood, the Geat had to give ground,
and then fell to earth—not yet fated to die,
but held on to his life, though horribly wounded.
Then Eofer, the hardy thane of Hygelac,
where his brother lay low, swung his broad sword,
a weapon forged by giants, over the king’s board-wall,
az to split his huge helmet. Then the king sank down,
protector of the people, overpowered by death.
Then many comrades bound the wounds of the brother,
quickly raised him up and gave him some room
so they could take control over this killing field.
At once Eofer stripped his fallen foe’s body,
took the iron mail-coat off from Ongentheow,
with his hard-sharp sword and his helmet together,
and bore the hoary king’s arms to his own Hygelac,
who gladly took them and gave him fair promise
of rewards among their folk, and that was fulfilled.
The lord of the Geats, Hrethel’s son Hygelac,
when he returned to his home, repaid that battle-storm,
giving hugely great treasures to Eofer and Wulf:
to each the cost of a hundred thousand coins
in land and locked rings—no man in middle-earth
could slight that reward to the hard-fighting heroes.
Then as a pledge of good will, he gave to Eofer
his only daughter, to bring honor to his home.
Such is the source of the feud and hostility,
deadly hatred among men, for which I foresee
the people of the Swedes to come seeking us,
after they have heard it told that our own dear lord
has lost his life, who up to now has protected
our hoard and kingdom against those who hate us,
after the fall of heroes,
ba bold men bearing shields,
winning the good of the nation, doing noble deeds,
always and ever. Now let us make haste,
so we may look in that place on the people’s king,
and carry our ruler, who gave us rich rings,
in procession to the funeral pyre. Not only one thing
shall be burned with the brave man, but all of the hoard,
with its countless gold, purchased at fearful price,
that now at the last he paid with his life
for the precious rings. Then will the fire roar,
embracing all in its flames. Not any of the nobles
will take off treasures as tokens, nor any fair woman
wear around her neck a ring of gold as adornment,
but all shall continue to grieve, bereft of gold,
more than once forced to walk in a foreign land,
now that their war-leader has left behind laughter,
all mirth and hall-joy. And so shall the spear,
many times in morning-cold, be clutched in the hand,
heaved up on high, nor will the music of the harp
wake up the warriors, but then the dark raven,
eager to feed on fallen warriors, will speak much,
telling the eagle of his pleasure in eating,
when he with the wolf both feasted on corpses.“
30