Part XX
HROTHGAR spake, helmet-of-Scyldings: --"Ask not of pleasure! Pain is renewedto Danish folk. Dead is Aeschere,of Yrmenlaf the elder brother,my sage adviser and stay in council,shoulder-comrade in stress of fightwhen warriors clashed and we warded our heads,hewed the helm-boars; hero famedshould be every earl as Aeschere was!But here in Heorot a hand hath slain himof wandering death-sprite. I wot not whither,proud of the prey, her path she took,fain of her fill. The feud she avengedthat yesternight, unyieldingly,Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killedst, --seeing how long these liegemen minehe ruined and ravaged. Reft of life,in arms he fell. Now another comes,keen and cruel, her kin to avenge,faring far in feud of blood:so that many a thane shall think, who e'ersorrows in soul for that sharer of rings,this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies lowthat once was willing each wish to please.Land-dwellers here and liegemen mine,who house by those parts, I have heard relatethat such a pair they have sometimes seen,march-stalkers mighty the moorland haunting,wandering spirits: one of them seemed,so far as my folk could fairly judge,of womankind; and one, accursed,in man's guise trod the misery-trackof exile, though huger than human bulk.Grendel in days long gone they named him,folk of the land; his father they knew not,nor any brood that was born to himof treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home;by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,fenways fearful, where flows the streamfrom mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks,underground flood. Not far is it hencein measure of miles that the mere expands,and o'er it the frost-bound forest hanging,sturdily rooted, shadows the wave.By night is a wonder weird to see,fire on the waters. So wise lived noneof the sons of men, to search those depths!Nay, though the heath-rover, harried by dogs,the horn-proud hart, this holt should seek,long distance driven, his dear life firston the brink he yields ere he brave the plungeto hide his head: 'tis no happy place!Thence the welter of waters washes upwan to welkin when winds bestirevil storms, and air grows dusk,and the heavens weep. Now is help once morewith thee alone! The land thou knowst not,place of fear, where thou findest outthat sin-flecked being. Seek if thou dare!I will reward thee, for waging this fight,with ancient treasure, as erst I did,with winding gold, if thou winnest back."
Words in this poem 18
- folk n.
- In Anglo-Saxon times, the people of a group of townships or villages; a community; a tribe. [AS. folc; akin to D. volk, OS. & OHG. folk, G. volk, Icel. f, Sw. & Dan. folk, Lith. pulkas crowd, and perh. to E. follow.]
- sprite n.
- A spirit; a soul; a shade; also, an apparition. See Spright. [OE. sprit, F. esprit, fr. L. spiritus. See Spirit, and cf. Sprightly.]
- whither adv.
- To what place; -- used interrogatively; as, whither goest thou [OE. whider. AS. hwider; akin to E. where, who; cf. Goth. hvadre whither. See Who, and cf. Hither, Thither.]
- fain v. t.
- To be glad ; to wish or desire.
- yesternight n.
- The last night; the night last past.
- reft n.
- A chink; a rift. See Rift. Rom. of R.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- sharer n.
- One who shares; a participator; a partaker; also, a divider; a distributer.
- moorland n.
- Land consisting of a moor or moors. [AS. morland.]
- fairly adv.
- In a fairmanner; clearly; openly; plainly; fully; distinctly; frankly.
- womankind n.
- The females of the human race; women, collectively.
- sturdily adv.
- In a sturdy manner.
- rover n.
- One who practices robbery on the seas; a pirate. [D. roover a robber. See Rove, v. i.]
- holt
- 3d pers. sing. pres. of Hold, contr. from holdeth.
- brink n.
- The edge, margin, or border of a steep place, as of a precipice; a bank or edge, as of a river or pit; a verge; a border; as, the brink of a chasm. Also Fig. [Dan. brink edge, verge; akin to Sw. brink declivity, hill, Icel. brekka; cf. LG. brink a grassy hill, W. bryn hill, bryncyn hillock.]
- welter v. i.
- To roll, as the body of an animal; to tumble about, especially in anything foul or defiling; to wallow. [Freq. of OE. walten to roll over, AS. wealtan; akin to LG. weltern, G. walzen to roll, to waltz, sich wälzen to welter, OHG. walzan to roll, Icel. velta, Dan. v]
- welkin n.
- The visible regions of the air; the vault of heaven; the sky. [OE. welken, welkene, welkne, wolcne, weolcne, AS. wolcen, pl. wolcnu, a cloud; akin to D. wolk, OFries. wolken, OS. wolkan, G. wolke, OHG. wolchan, and probably]
- bestir v. t.
- To put into brisk or vigorous action; to move with life and vigor; -- usually with the reciprocal pronoun.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Part XX is in the public domain. This text is taken from Beowulf, Project Gutenberg ebook #981, the Francis B. Gummere translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Anonymous, Part XX, in Beowulf (1910), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #981, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/beowulf/part-xx.html, id L14208.
Form and metre
Part XX is 62 lines in a single verse paragraph. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 79%). 88% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.1 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 32% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter, other poems in blank verse.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -------------------------------------A---A-------------------- scyldings · renewed · aeschere · brother · council · fight · heads · famed · was · him · whither · took · avenged · unyieldingly · killedst · mine · life · comes · avenge · blood · e'er · rings · low · please · mine · relate · seen · haunting · seemed · judge · accursed · track · bulk · him · not · him · home · headlandsA · stream · rocks · hence · expandsA · hanging · wave · see · none · depths · dogs · seek · first · plunge · place · up · bestir · dusk · more · not · out · dare · fight · did · back
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| HROTHGAR spake, helmet-of-Scyldings: -- | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| "Ask not of pleasure! Pain is renewed | 9 | ···/˘··˘/ |
| to Danish folk. Dead is Aeschere, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| of Yrmenlaf the elder brother, | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| my sage adviser and stay in council, | 10 | ··˘/˘···/˘ |
| shoulder-comrade in stress of fight | 8 | /˘/····· |
| when warriors clashed and we warded our heads, | 10 | ·/˘···/˘/· |
| hewed the helm-boars; hero famed | 9 | ·˘···/˘·˘ |
| should be every earl as Aeschere was! | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| But here in Heorot a hand hath slain him | 10 | ·········· |
| of wandering death-sprite. I wot not whither, | 10 | ·/˘·····/˘ |
| proud of the prey, her path she took, | 8 | ········ |
| fain of her fill. The feud she avenged | 9 | ·······˘/ |
| that yesternight, unyieldingly, | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killedst, -- | 9 | /˘·/˘···· |
| seeing how long these liegemen mine | 9 | /˘······· |
| he ruined and ravaged. Reft of life, | 9 | ·/˘·/˘··· |
| in arms he fell. Now another comes, | 9 | ·····˘/˘· |
| keen and cruel, her kin to avenge, | 9 | ··/˘···˘/ |
| faring far in feud of blood: | 7 | /˘····· |
| so that many a thane shall think, who e'er | 9 | ··/······ |
| sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings, | 10 | /˘····/˘·· |
| this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies low | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| that once was willing each wish to please. | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Land-dwellers here and liegemen mine, | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| who house by those parts, I have heard relate | 10 | ········˘/ |
| that such a pair they have sometimes seen, | 9 | ······˘/· |
| march-stalkers mighty the moorland haunting, | 10 | ·/˘/˘·/·/˘ |
| wandering spirits: one of them seemed, | 9 | /˘˘/˘···· |
| so far as my folk could fairly judge, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| of womankind; and one, accursed, | 9 | ·/˘˘····˘ |
| in man's guise trod the misery-track | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| of exile, though huger than human bulk. | 10 | ·/·····/˘· |
| Grendel in days long gone they named him, | 9 | /˘······· |
| folk of the land; his father they knew not, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| nor any brood that was born to him | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home; | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands, | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| fenways fearful, where flows the stream | 8 | /·/˘···· |
| from mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| underground flood. Not far is it hence | 9 | /˘······· |
| in measure of miles that the mere expands, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| and o'er it the frost-bound forest hanging, | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| sturdily rooted, shadows the wave. | 9 | /˘˘/˘/··· |
| By night is a wonder weird to see, | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| fire on the waters. So wise lived none | 9 | /··/˘···· |
| of the sons of men, to search those depths! | 9 | ········· |
| Nay, though the heath-rover, harried by dogs, | 10 | ····/˘/˘·· |
| the horn-proud hart, this holt should seek, | 8 | ········ |
| long distance driven, his dear life first | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| on the brink he yields ere he brave the plunge | 10 | ·········· |
| to hide his head: 'tis no happy place! | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Thence the welter of waters washes up | 10 | ··/˘·/˘/˘· |
| wan to welkin when winds bestir | 8 | ··/˘··˘/ |
| evil storms, and air grows dusk, | 7 | /˘····· |
| and the heavens weep. Now is help once more | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| with thee alone! The land thou knowst not, | 9 | ··˘/····· |
| place of fear, where thou findest out | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| that sin-flecked being. Seek if thou dare! | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| I will reward thee, for waging this fight, | 10 | ··˘/··/˘·· |
| with ancient treasure, as erst I did, | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| with winding gold, if thou winnest back." | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.