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Soloist: List'n up: Long ago, when we still asked

Then we heard tell of heroes, ancient kings,

Of their courageous acts and of the fame

They carved for each himself with swinging swords.

How Shild the king drove enemies to death,

And stocked his ranks with loyalty and grace.

Now, once, he’d been an orphan, over the sea

To Denmark he had come, alone and friendless,

But lived to be rich and honored, and he ruled

On every side much land, and where the sea 10

Would swell his soldiers sailed, returned victorious

And bearing tribute and obedience.

What a king! And then his son was born,

To whom the Lord of Life did honor grant,

Whose power and renown spread through the world;

Shild’s strong son was the glory of Denmark.

The father’s warriors were bound to the son by blood:

The children build our future, warriors,

They earn their fame. Then, at the fated time,

The brave king Shild was called away to death. 20

His comrades carried him down to the sea

As their leader when alive had told them to,

And laid him in the bosom of a ship

All caked with creaking ice, heaped up with treasures,

Jewels, weapons, coats of gleaming mail.

They laid him at the mast, their gloried prince,

To send him over the waves again as once

He’d come to Denmark when he was alive,

And high above his head they flew his flag,

And let the water take him in her arms. 30

He slid away, but no one knows to where.

Then Shild’s brave son was king in Denmark and

He ruled as long, as loved as was his sire,

A famous leader of nations; he in turn

His people gave a son, Healfdane, aye,

Who also in his turn

Brought kin to Denmark rule. And of three sons,

One, Hrothgar, took the throne, and led the Danes

Unto such glory each and every man

Swore by his sword and youth his army swelled: 40

He thought of fame and Hrothgar now resolved

To build a hall to hold his mighty band

To reach toward heaven higher than all else

That ever had been seen by sons of men.

And there in this great hall would he divide

The spoils of victory as each deserved,

And so the work was ordered, timbers tied

And shaped by Hrothgar’s crew. And built, it was

The largest and most gorgeous dwelling ever made

And Hrothgar named it ‘Our Place.’ His boast come true 50

The king called for a feast; he opened out

His treasure-giving hands, and everyone,

The squires, knights and folk went to the hall

And banqueted their joy and thankfulness.

But down deep in the darkness there did dwell

A powerful monster who in seething pain

Did growl, did wait, did grow impatient as

Day after day the music rang up there

At Our Place, Hrothgar’s hall; the harp’s clear call,

And the rejoicing songs 60

Recalled this world’s making, stories of

The Flood, or Lovers, Heroes: then as now

Sang warriors of pleasure, just as now,

Until the monster stirred, that fiend, God bless,

The walker of the moors, the wild marsh

Who made his home in a hell dragged up to earth.

He was conceived by a pair of creatures,

The murderous and offending sons of Cain

Banished from the world by all that’s good

And their exile was bitter: Shut away 70

From men, they split into a million forms

Of evil -- spirits, fiends, goblins, monsters,

Giants. A brood forever bent against the good,

And again and again defeated. Then...

With dropping down of darkness dank and dim

The monster, Grendel, made his way to Our Place.

He wondered what the beer-brave, drowsy men

Would do this night up there, and now he found

Them sprawled in sleep, and dreaming undisturbed,

Suspecting nothing, Night envelopes them: 80

The monster’s thoughts were as quick as his greed or his claws,

He slipped through the door and in the silence snatched

Up thirty men and smashed them brainless now

And dragged the bloody bodies back, delighting

In the slaughter of his awful feast.

And in the morning’s grey first-light, they saw

The evidence of Grendel’s claws and teeth

And a great cry arose from Our Place, long

Laments for all the dead and Hrothgar knew

By the bloody smear and heavy, clawful tracks 90

The Grendel left behind, some demon had

His followers torn apart. And that same night

The Grendel came again, and no amount

Of sadness, blood or sin could quench his thirst

For evil. Then every man tried to escape,

Searched for rest in different beds as far

From Our Place as they could get: Distance; Safety.

The Danes were all beneath the evil spell.

Hate had triumphed. So Grendel ruled,

And Our Place stood empty of men while there he dwelled, 100

Twelve winters packed with grief for Hrothgar, and

His misery leaped seas, was told in stories,

Sung in songs that rang in the ears of men:

How Grendel’s hatred began, how he did relish

In the blood he’d spilled, the feud alive

He kept, sought no peace, offered no truce,

Rejected settlement brought by men, no price

In lands or gold, and repaid all with death.

This death-shadow hunted in the darkness,

And Hrothgar’s warriors old and young he stalked, 110

Lying in wait, hiding in shadows, invisibly

Following them from the edge of the marsh,

Unseen. So mankind’s enemy spawned fear,

Alone he came, bloodthirsty, horrible.

The best and most noble of Hrothgar’s men

Debated remedies and wondered what

Was to be done, and all to no effect.

And so, this living sorrow simmered fresh,

Unmovable by anything. So Hrothgar

And his people bore a weight harsh and cruel, 120

Unending, violent, blood-evil.

Now in his far-off home of Geatland lived

A nobleman more strong and great than any

Who have ever walked the earth; who heard

Of Grendel’s godless doings, and ordered

“Be prepared a ship to sail out,

To go to Hrothgar’s home across the sea,”

Since he had need of help, the Danish king.

No wise man warned him against the sojourn,

For the omens they were good, the magi 130

Urged the hero on, and from the folk

Of Geatland this brave thane did choose the best

And bravest warriors of the land, fifteen

Besides himself, and now the time was here:

Sixteen great, noble, stalwart warriors

Climbed up aboard a ship prepared for them

And set out over the sea, which whorled,

The water on the sand, wind on the waves.

They flew through the foamy sea like a bird in air

Until in two days’ time they saw ahead 140

The shining cliffs that crowned the Danish shore.

They pushed their boat onto the sand at once

Mail-shirts and armour rattling, dressed for war,

And ended their trip with quiet rejoicing, knelt

And thanked their god the sea was smooth for them.

High up upon a wall, a Danish guard

The kneeling, armoured men upon the sand

He saw, came riding down upon his horse

As fast as he could ride, approaching them.

A sharp and heavy spear he shook in their 150

Brave faces and he spoke with formal words:

“What men are you, cased-up in battle-gear?

Go further not 'till telling me who y'are,

From whence you came, and why. You, speak!”

The chieftain rose and answered him like this:

“My name

Is Beowulf, I am a Geatish thane.

My errand is for Hrothgar, Healfdane’s son,

Your king to hear. Salute your lord,

And ask for our reception and his ear.” 160

And then the coast-guard of the Danes replied:

"I’ll tell our king what you have said, and then

Return with his good word and speak it here

However Hrothgar answers your request."

The soldier went to Hrothgar’s throne, where he

Did sit, the ancient king, old and grey,

Amidst his many men, dressed all in skins.

And cogent of the custom of the court,

Stood squarely at the seat of Danish rule

And waited to be heard. And then he was: 170

“Lo! There are Geats, who here have open come

From over the expanse of tumbling sea,

And they are led by a bold warrior

That himself calls he Beowulf, my lord!”

The wise, old king replied, “Ach! Beowulf?

I knew this noble when he was a boy,

And travelers to Geatland have me told

That now he has the strength of thirty men.

Almighty God has maybe sent this man

To bar up Grendel’s terror. Then to me 180

You order Beowulf and all his men to come,

And tell them too what welcome that we speak!”

Ane then the coast-guard of the Danes went fast to Beowulf and gave

The kingly message to the Geats: “My lord,

Great King of Danes, commands of me to say

He knows of you and welcomes here you all.

Now go unto his throne, you noble Geats

In battle-dress, but leave your spears and shields

Behind to wait upon the outcome of your talk."

And Beowulf arose, his men were standing by, 190

Who he did order, “Watch the door,” and then

A few he led beneath a vaulted roof

To Hrothgar’s chair. There standing, helmeted

The Danish king brave Beowulf addressed:

“Hail, Hrothgar. Sire, my cousin and my king

Is Hygelac of Geatland and I bring

His greetings to you. My gone days of youth

Are filled with glory, now I have heard tell

At home in my own land of Grendel’s doings,

That this hall stands a bane to men when light 200

Is hidden by the night’s twinkling veil;

The many trusted sages of my land

Have urged me go to you, for they know well,

Have seen my strength, looked on while I my foes

Have choked with their own blood and ground to bits,

And now I seek another enemy,

—An enemy to men—

And I alone, with help of these, my thanes,

Shall purge the evil from this lofty hall.

I’ll tell you, I have heard this monster kills 210

Without the use of weapons, recklessness!

For also me with hands I can avenge:

I scorn the use of iron, wood or stone,

Aye I shall grapple, God will shield me,

And he who comes to death can trust the Lord.

And if its me, there’ll be no use for shrouds:

Grendel, he bears away my bloody flesh,

Smears tooth-cut scraps of skin upon the walls

Of his rank den, and crunches on my bones,

No, there’ll be nothing left to mourn over!” 220

And Hrothgar spoke: “How many of my men

With aleful courage sworn already death

Unto this demon, then at morning’s rise

Have I discovered blood upon the floor,

The benches all stained red, the walls soaked through

With battle-gore, and my retainers fewer

Still, as Death he reaps them down! Alas.

Enough, you’re welcome here. A banquet now:

Sit down and let our scop unbind your thoughts

With lays of heroism, victory!” 230

And Hrothgar’s men gave places to the Geats,

And led a feast to them. The server brought

Embellished flasks that poured the sweetness bright,

And Hrothgar’s poet sang clear-throated tales,

And warriors, they shared their tandem joy.

And grey-haired Hrothgar, battle-brave, was glad

For Beowulf’s bold strength of arm and soul.

Words cheerful, ringing pleasant voices and

The laughter of the clanking cups I hear.

Then came forth Weltheow, the gold-ringed Queen, 240

Who raised a flowing cup to Hrothgar first

And wished him joy; the famous king, he drank,

And blessed their banquet. Then his noble queen,

Each warrior she offered up the cup

And when she came to Beowulf, she bowed,

Saluted him with words of royal trust.

The feast went on with laughter, music and

The brave words of celebrating delight—

Until the twilight came, and Hrothgar knew

The Grendel soon would come to plot his evil 250

In that hall when night had covered up

The earth and shapes of darkness moved with stealth

All underneath a spell of dusky clouds.

Food and song and fellowship were done;

The day was gone, outside, the night begun.

So, Hrothgar left the hall followed by his men.

Queen Weltheow preceded them; he went

To lie at her smooth side, to seek repose

Encradled in her sleep-inducing arms.

And Beowulf was ready, for his faith was firm 260

As was the sinew of his arm.

Now Beowulf took off the mail shirt

Removed the helmet, put away the sword.

As Beowulf climbed into bed he said:

“Tonight I use no sword against my foe,

Though it might speed the fight,

But he knows naught with which to strike at me,

So I must meet him weapon-less, and, Lord,

Assign the glory as befits you best.”

And Beowulf upon his bed lay down, 270

And packed with sleepy warriors, the hall

Grew silent with the sounds of restful night.

In every head that on its pillow pressed,

Grew doubts of living past the night to day,

Of ever turning back across the sea

One day at home to join their comrades, or

Of seeing the towns and fields where they grew up,

For they had heard of Grendel’s evil doings,

The murderous death of Danes in Hrothgar’s hall,

Where now they slept. But fate was theirs tonight. 280

No, never doubt Almighty God above,

The earth below he cradles in His hands.

Inside the hall dozed all the warriors,

Except for one, and he lay wakeful, wired,

His huge heart hot with blood-lust, and he waited.

Outside in the night began to glide

The shadow-stalker, Grendel, from the marsh.

Beneath the foggy hills, beside the bog,

And trackless over misty turf he moved,

Intending to ensnare some humankind, 290

And joyless, he arrived at Our Place.

He tore the door down with a single touch,

And stepped into the hall, the raging fiend,

Aroused, and from his eyes, the monster’s eyes,

A hellish, ugly light sliced up the air

As he surveyed the hall.

A troop of many warriors he saw

In sleep upon their pallets, splayed, dreaming.

Grendel’s gut growled, his heart laughed, here was hope

Of feasting full, he did intend to tear 300

The life from every single body there.

The first he grabbed, a handsome warrior,

Devoured huge morsels of the man alive,

Into his muscles bit, tore him apart,

Drank down the gushing and delicious blood,

And soon the whole corpse had consumed indeed,

Down to the feet and hands. Along he moved

To seize another body, Beowulf

Lay still and Grendel grabbed the hero hard,

Who did perceive his hostile plan at once, 310

Sat up in fierce response and pitted weight

Into the monster’s arm by holding thus,

And Grendel gasped.

In that time-instant there

Each fighter knew that nowhere on the earth

Existed one whose hands were harder; fear

Floods into mind and spirit, forces flesh

To tremble in example of the rage.

But Beowulf, his boast recalling, stood,

And holding fast, his fingers cracked, and—Howl! 320

The fiendish devil tried to flee, he pulled,

And tried to twist the hero’s grip, which gained

For every second, inches on his arm.

And then Our Place resounded with the din:

The tumbling over of the tables here,

The benches there, through piles of weaponry,

Across the floor in raging clutches fought.

And stranger noises rose, the horrid sound

Of Grendel’s screaming throat exploded now

Defeat-song, wailing painfully, Hell’s slave, 330

Caught in the arms of he who of all men

Upon the earth was strongest, fiercest. Now,

By this time all the warriors had leapt

Out of their beds: their swords were drawn,

They hacked and hewed and hemmed from every side

The furious monster, sought his soul, no use!

The Grendel had bewitched the weapons, yes,

With black and hellish arts the devil charmed

The sword points dull, the edges blunt, and yet

As of this very hour his time was done 340

And death drew fearful near; down would he go

Into the hands of fiends much worse than he

Our hero’s grip did crush the monster so.

Beowulf twisted at the devil’s arm,

Pain flashed and Grendel howled again as bone

From sinew split and sprang apart and muscle

Ripped away. The joint-lock crunched beneath

The hero’s hearty hand, which thirsted gore.

Grendel escaped—to find a joyless death.

And left behind a steaming, bloody trail 350

At whose nether end stood Beowulf

Rejoicing in his night’s fierce work, for he

Who’d lately come across the open sea

Saved Hrothgar’s house and remedied his grief.

No small feat, and the evidence of which

Was well-displayed above the eaves where Beowulf

The Brave had hung it up: There, huge and oozing

Ice-blood

Was Grendel’s arm, from finger to the chest.

The story goes on to tell the episodes of the killing of Grendel's mother, the passing of the Geatish kingdom into Beowulf's hands, his ultimate defeat at the fangs of the dragon, and his death and burial. I'd include these but cannot, at the advising of my peeps. If you want full text, see my contact page.