Blogging Beowulf: Fit XXXVII, Lines 2694–751

11 May 2009

The battle with the dragon continues. Wiglaf stabs the beast nioðor hwēne, or somewhat lower down, presumably in the genitals. Beowulf draws his seax, a short stabbing sword, a word that gives us the Saxon in Anglo-Saxon, and cuts through the dragon’s belly. The dragon finally gives up the ghost. But Beowulf feels the dragon’s poison in his veins and knows his wounds are mortal and commands Wiglaf to go into the dragon’s barrow and bring out the treasure so he can look at it before he dies.

So far, I’ve included most of the verses dealing with the dragon fight, so I might as well continue and give the last few lines, 2769–2709a:

Þæt hē þone nīðgæst      nioðor hwēne sloh,
secg on searwum,      þæt ðæt sweord ġedēaf
fāh ond fæted,      þæt ðæt fyr ongon
sweðrian syððan.      Þā ġēn sylf cyning
ġewēold his ġewitte,      wællseaxe ġebræd
biter ond beaduscearp,      þæt hē on byrnan wæġ;
forwrāt Wedra helm      wyrm on middan.
Fēond ġefyldan      —ferh ellen wræc—
ond hī hyne þā bēġen      ābroten hæfdon,
sibæðelingas;      swylċ sceolde secg wesan,
þeġn æt ðearfe!

([Wiglaf] the beast       somewhat lower down struck,
the man in armor,      so that the sword plunged in
hostile and ornamented,      so that the fire began
to subside afterward.      The king himself still
possessed his wits,      and drew his battle-seax
bitter and battle-sharp,      that he carried in his byrnie;
the protector of the Weders cut through      the worm in the middle.
They felled the fiend      —their courage drove out its life—
and they both then      had cut it down,
the noble kinsmen;      such should a man be,
a thane at need!)

The poet tells us of Beowulf’s knowledge of his coming death, lines 2724–28

Bīowulf maþelode—      hē ofer benne spræc,
wunde wælblēate;       wisse hē ġearwe
þæt hē dæġhwīla      ġedrogen hæfde,
eorðan wyn(ne);      ðā wæs eall sceacen
dōgorġerīmes,      dēað unġemete nēah.)

(Beowulf spoke—      he despite his would spoke,
the mortal wound;      he knew for certain
that he his space of days      had passed through,
of the joys of the earth;      that all was gone
of his number of days,      death was immeasurably near.)

Beowulf expresses an odd, at least to the modern ear, sentiment when he tells Wiglaf to fetch the treasure, lines 2747–51:

Bīo nū on ofoste,      þæt iċ ærwelan,
goldæht onġite,      ġearo scēawiġe
sweġle searoġimmas,      þæt iċ ðy sēft mæġe
æfter māððumwelan      mīn ālætan
līf ond lēodscipe,      þone iċ longe hēold.

(Be now in haste,      that I the ancient wealth,
the golden treasure might see,      surely [I] might look
at the bright precious gems,       that I might softly
after the wealth of treasure      give up my
life and lordship,      that I [have] long held.)

Beowulf’s need to see the earthly treasure he has won at his hour of his death seems odd to us. We would think that someone about to die would be less concern with earthly rewards. But his sentiment is in keeping with the Germanic warrior culture, where gifts and rewards were symbolic of great deeds and a life well lived. In seeing the treasure, he knows he has done well and can peacefully depart this world.