king, Lord of the Weders, died an uncommon death. First they saw there a stranger thing, the loathed serpent lying opposite him on the ground. The fire dragon, terrible in its frightful colors, was scorched by the flames. It was fifty feet long as it lay there. At night it had had joy of the air, and come back again to visit its den. Now it was fast in death, had had its last delight of earth-caves. By it stood bowls and cups; dishes and precious swords lay there rusty and eaten through, for they had been in the earth's embrace a thousand winters. Moreover, that mighty heritage, the gold of men of old, was bound by a charm that no man could touch the ring-hall unless God himself, true King of Victories, permitted him. whom He would-he is the protector of men-to open the hoard, even such a man as seemed to him meet.

1

Then it was evident that his action did not prosper him who against right kept the jewels secretly within under the rock. The guard had slain a few; 1 then the feud was bitterly avenged. It is a mystery where the brave man shall meet the end of his life, when he may no longer dwell in the mead-house with his kinsmen. So it was with Beowulf when he sought the guardian of the mound and the contest. He himself did not know through what his parting from the world should be. The famous princes who put the treasure there had laid a curse on it until doomsday so that the warrior who should plunder the place should be guilty of sin, confined in

1 An exaggeration. Beowulf only is meant.

heathen temples, bound with Hell-bonds, grievously punished. He was not goldgreedy; he had before more certainly known the favor of possession.

Wiglaf spoke, Wihstan's son: "Oft shall many a man, for the sake of one, suffer grief as has happened to us. Nor could we persuade our beloved Lord, guardian of the realm, that he should not attack the warden of the gold but should let him lie where he had long been, live in his dwelling place until the world's end, keep his destined lot. The hoard is seen, cruelly won. Fate was too strong that drove the man hither. I was in there and surveyed it all, the treasures of the chamber, when I was permitted. Not through friendly means was the entrance granted, in under the rock. Hastily I seized with my hands a mighty burden of treasures, bore it out hither to my king. He was still alive then, wise and fully conscious. Sorrowfully the aged man said many things, and bade me greet you, sent word that ye should build, on account of your friend's deeds, a high mound where the funeral pyre shall stand, great and glorious, as he was the worthiest warrior of men far and wide throughout the earth while he might enjoy the wealth of his town. Let us now hasten a second time to see and seek the multitude of precious jewels, the marvel beneath the rock. I will show you, so that at close view you may look upon the many rings and the broad gold. Let the bier be speedily prepared when we come out, and then let us bear our lord, beloved man, to where he shall long remain in the Ruler's keeping."

Then the son of Wihstan, the warrior brave in battle, bade many men, owners of houses, folk leaders, that they should carry wood for the funeral pyre from afar to where the good king lay: "Now shall the fire consume (the smoky flame Ishall grow) the chief of warriors, him

who oft went through the shower of iron when the storm of arrows, driven by bow strings, sped over the shield wall, when the shaft, equipped with feather gear, did its duty, urged forth its barb."

Thereupon the wise son of Wihstan called forth from the host seven thanes of the king, and these the best, himself went as one of eight warriors under the baleful roof. One bore in his hand a torch, who went at the head. It was not by lot, who should plunder the hoard, when the warriors saw any part remaining in the hall, lying unwatched and perishing. Little did any man regret that they should speedily carry out the precious treasures. The dragon, moreover, they pushed over the cliff, let the wave take the serpent, the sea enfold the warden of the jewels. Then was the twisted gold, of every kind beyond measure, loaded on the wagon, and the warrior, hoar hero, was borne to Hronesness.

XLIII

THE WARRIORS' LAST TRIBUTE TO BEOWULF

Then the Geatsfolk prepared for him a splendid funeral pile on the ground, hung with helmets, with shields and bright byrnies, as he had asked. Lamenting, the warriors laid in the midst of it the glorious king, their dear lord. Then the warsmen began to kindle on the mound the greatest of pyres. The smoke rose black above the flame, the roaring fire mingled with lamentation-the tumult of winds

subsided-until, hot at his breast, it had crumbled the house of bones. Downcast in heart, they gave voice to their sorrow, bemoaned their lord's death. Likewise an aged woman with hair bound up, sorrowing for Beowulf, sang a song of lament, uttered over and over her sore dread of the evil day to come, the much slaughter, the warrior's terror, shame and captivity. Heaven swallowed the smoke.

Then on the cliff the Weder-folk built

a mound, high and broad, visible from afar to seafarers, and completed in ten days the hero's beacon, built a wall around the ashes, as worthily as men of most skill could devise. In the mound they placed rings and jewels, all such trappings as hostile men had taken from the hoard. They let the earth keep the treasures of earls, gold in the ground, where it even now remains as useless to men as it was before. Then around the barrow rode the battle-brave sons of athelings, twelve in all, who were moved to voice their grief and bemoan their king, to chant an elegy and speak about the man. They praised his courage and his deeds of valor-valued him highlyas it is fitting that one should praise with words his lord, heartily love him, when he shall be led forth from his body.

So the Geat-folk, his hearth companions, sorrowed for their lord's death, said that he was the mildest of men and of kings the kindest, gentlest to his people and most eager to deserve fame.

1 Some interpret this as widow, but whether Beowulf's widow is meant seems doubtful.

anything.

SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT

I

AFTER the siege and the assault of Troy, when that burg was destroyed and burnt to ashes, and the traitor tried for his treason, the noble Eneas and his kin sailed forth to become princes and patrons of well-nigh all the Western Isles. Thus Romulus built Rome (and gave to the city his own name, which it bears even to this day); and Ticius turned him to Tuscany; and Langobard raised him up dwellings in Lombardy; and Felix Brutus sailed far over the French flood,1 and founded the kingdom of Britain, wherein have been war and waste and wonder, and bliss and bale, ofttimes since.

And in that kingdom of Britain have been wrought more gallant deeds than in any other; but of all British kings Arthur was the most valiant, as I have heard tell; therefore will I set forth a wondrous adventure that fell out in his time. And if ye will listen to me, but for a little while, I will tell it even as it stands in story stiff and strong, fixed in the letter, as it hath long been known in the land.

King Arthur lay at Camelot upon a Christmas-tide, with many a gallant lord and lovely lady, and all the noble brotherhood of the Round Table. There they held rich revels with gay talk and jest; one while they would ride forth to joust and tourney, and again back to the court to make carols; for there was the feast holden fifteen days with all the mirth that men could devise, song and glee, glorious to hear, in the daytime, and dancing at

English Channel (Mare Gallicum, Mare Britannicum).

night. Halls and chambers were crowded with noble guests, the bravest of knights and the loveliest of ladies, and Arthur himself was the comeliest king that ever held a court. For all this fair folk were in their youth, the fairest and most fortunate under heaven, and the king himself of such fame that it were hard now to name so valiant a hero.

Now the New Year had but newly come in, and on that day a double portion was served on the high table to all the noble guests, and thither came the king with all his knights, when the service. in the chapel had been sung to an end. And they greeted each other for the New Year, and gave rich gifts, the one to the other (and they that received them were not wroth, that may ye well believe!), and the maidens laughed and made mirth till it was time to get them to meat. Then they washed and sat them down to the feast in fitting rank and order, and Guinevere the queen, gaily clad, sat on the high daïs. Silken was her seat, with a fair canopy over her head, of rich tapestries of Tars, embroidered, and studded with costly gems; fair she was to look upon, with her shining gray eyes, a fairer woman might no man boast himself of having seen.

But Arthur would not eat till all were served, so full of joy and gladness was he, even as a child; he liked not either to lie long, or to sit long at meat, so worked upon him his young blood and his wild brain. And another custom he had also, that came of his nobility, that he would never eat upon an high day till he had been advised of some knightly deed, or some strange and marvelous tale, of his ancestors, or of arms, or of other ventures. Or till some stranger

knight should seek of him leave to joust with one of the Round Table, that they might set their lives in jeopardy, one against another, as fortune might favor them. Such was the king's custom when he sat in hall at each high feast with his noble knights; therefore on that New Year tide, he abode, fair of face, on the throne, and made much mirth withal.

Thus the king sat before the high tables, and spake of many things; and there good Sir Gawain was seated by Guinevere the queen, and on her other side sat Agravain, à la dure main; both were the king's sister's sons and full gallant knights. And at the end of the table was Bishop Bawdewyn, and Ywain, King Urien's son, sat at the other side alone. These were worthily served on the daïs, and at the lower tables sat many valiant knights. Then they bare the first course with the blast of trumpets and waving of banners, with the sound of drums and pipes, of song and lute, that many a heart was uplifted at the melody. Many were the dainties, and rare the meats; so great was the plenty they might scarce find room on the board to set on the dishes. Each helped himself as he liked best, and to each two were twelve dishes, with great plenty of beer and wine.

Now I will say no more of the service, but that ye may know there was no lack, for there drew near a venture that the folk might well have left their labor to gaze upon. As the sound of the music ceased, and the first course had been fitly served, there came in at the hall door one terrible to behold, of stature greater than any on earth; from neck to loin so strong and thickly made, and with limbs so long and so great that he seemed even as a giant. And yet he was but a man, only the mightiest that might mount a steed; broad of chest and shoulders. and slender of waist, and all his features of like fashion; but men marveled much

at his color, for he rode even as a knight, yet was green all over.

For he was clad all in green, with a straight coat, and a mantle above; all decked and lined with fur was the cloth and the hood that was thrown back from his locks and lay on his shoulders. Hose had he of the same green, and spurs of bright gold with silken fastenings richly worked; and all his vesture was verily green. Around his waist and his saddle were bands with fair stones set upon silken work, 't were too long to tell of all the trifles that were embroidered thereon

birds and insects in gay gauds of green and gold. All the trappings of his steed were of metal of like enamel, even the stirrups that he stood in stained of the same, and stirrups and saddle-bow alike. gleamed and shone with green stones. Even the steed on which he rode was of the same hue, a green horse, great and strong, and hard to hold, with broidered bridle, meet for the rider.

The knight was thus gaily dressed in green, his hair falling around his shoulders; on his breast hung a beard, as thick and green as a bush, and the beard and the hair of his head were clipped all round above his elbows. The lower part of his sleeves was fastened with clasps in the same wise as a king's mantle. The horse's mane was crisp and plaited with many a knot folded in with gold thread about the fair green, here a twist of the hair, here another of gold. The tail was twined in like manner, and both were bound about with a band of bright green set with many a precious stone; then they were tied aloft in a cunning knot, whereon rang many bells of burnished gold. Such a steed might no other ride, nor had such ever been looked upon in that hall ere that time; and all who saw that knight spake and said that a man might scarce abide his stroke.