Unferth's Challenge 
from Beowulf 
translated by Burton Raffel 

           Epic 3            

            6 

            Unferth spoke, Ecglaf’s son, 
            Who sat at Hrothgar’s feet, spoke harshly 
235     And sharp (vexed by Beowulf’s adventure, 
            By their visitor’s courage, and angry that anyone 
            In Denmark or anywhere on earth had ever 
            Acquired glory and fame greater 
            Than his own): 
                        “You’re Beowulf, are you—the same 
240     Boastful fool who fought a swimming 
            Match with Brecca, both of you daring 
            And young and proud, exploring the deepest 
            Seas, risking your lives for no reason 
            But the danger? All older and wiser heads warned you 
245     Not to, but no one could check such pride. 
            With Brecca at your side you swam along 
            The sea-paths, your swift-moving hands pulling you 
            Over the ocean’s face. Then winter 
            Churned through the water, the waves ran you 
250     As they willed, and you struggled seven long nights 
            To survive. And at the end victory was his, 
            Not yours. The sea carried him close 
            To his home, to southern Norway, near 
            The land of the Brondings, where he ruled and was loved, 
255      Where his treasure was piled and his strength protected 
            His towns and his people. He’d promised to outswim you: 
            Bonstan’s son made that boast ring true. 
            You’ve been lucky in your battles, Beowulf, but I think 
            Your luck may change if you challenge Grendel, 
260     Staying a whole night through in this hall, 
            Waiting where that fiercest of demons can find you.” 
            Beowulf answered, Edgetho’s great son: 
            “Ah! Unferth, my friend, your face 
            Is hot with ale, and your tongue has tried 
265     To tell us about Brecca’s doings. But the truth 
            Is simple: No man swims in the sea 
            As I can, no strength is a match for mine. 
            As boys, Brecca and I had boasted—
            We were both too young to know better—that we’d risk 
270     Our lives far out at sea, and so 
            We did. Each of us carried a naked 
            Sword, prepared for whales or the swift 
            Sharp teeth and beaks of needlefish. 
            He could never leave me behind, swim faster 
275     Across the waves than I could, and I 
            Had chosen to remain close to his side. 
            I remained near him for five long nights, 
            Until a flood swept us apart; 
            The frozen sea surged around me, 
280     It grew dark, the wind turned bitter, blowing 
            From the north, and the waves were savage. Creatures 
            Who sleep deep in the sea were stirred 
            Into life—and the iron hammered links 
            Of my mail shirt, these shining bits of metal 
285     Woven across my breast, saved me 
            From death. A monster seized me, drew me 
            Swiftly toward the bottom, swimming with its claws 
            Tight in my flesh. But fate let me 
            Find its heart with my sword, hack myself 
290     Free; I fought that beast’s last battle, 
            Left it floating lifeless in the sea. 

            7

            “Other monsters crowded around me, 
            Continually attacking. I treated them politely, 
            Offering the edge of my razor-sharp sword. 
295     But the feast, I think, did not please them, filled 
            Their evil bellies with no banquet-rich food, 
            Thrashing there at the bottom of the sea; 
            By morning they’d decided to sleep on the shore, 
            Lying on their backs, their blood spilled out 
300      On the sand. Afterwards, sailors could cross 
            That sea-road and feel no fear; nothing 
            Would stop their passing. Then God’s bright beacon 
            Appeared in the east, the water lay still, 
            And at last I could see the land, wind-swept 
305     Cliff-walls at the edge of the coast. Fate saves 
            The living when they drive away death by themselves! 
            Lucky or not, nine was the number 
            Of sea-huge monsters I killed. What man, 
            Anywhere under Heaven’s high arch, has fought 
310     In such darkness, endured more misery, or been harder 
            Pressed? Yet I survived the sea, smashed 
            The monsters’ hot jaws, swam home from my journey. 
            The swift-flowing waters swept me along 
            And I landed on Finnish soil. I’ve heard 
315     No tales of you, Unferth, telling 
            Of such clashing terror, such contests in the night! 
            Brecca’s battles were never so bold; 
            Neither he nor you can match me—and I mean 
            No boast, have announced no more than I know 
320     To be true. And there’s more: You murdered your brothers, 
            Your own close kin. Words and bright wit 
            Won’t help your soul; you’ll suffer hell’s fires, 
            Unferth, forever tormented. Ecglaf’s 
            Proud son, if your hands were as hard, your heart 
325     As fierce as you think it, no fool would dare 
            To raid your hall, ruin Herot 
            And oppress its prince, as Grendel has done. 
            But he’s learned that terror is his alone, 
            Discovered he can come for your people with no fear 
330     Of reprisal; he’s found no fighting, here, 
            But only food, only delight. 
            He murders as he likes, with no mercy, gorges 
            And feasts on your flesh, and expects no trouble, 
            No quarrel from the quiet Danes. Now 
335     The Geats will show him courage, soon 
            He can test his strength in battle. And when the sun 
            Comes up again, opening another 
            Bright day from the south, anyone in Denmark 
            May enter this hall: That evil will be gone!” 
340     Hrothgar, gray-haired and brave, sat happily 
            Listening, the famous ring-giver sure, 
            At last, that Grendel could be killed; he believed 
            In Beowulf’s bold strength and the firmness of his spirit. 
            There was the sound of laughter, and the cheerful clanking 
345     Of cups, and pleasant words. Then Welthow, 
            Hrothgar’s gold-ringed queen, greeted 
            The warriors; a noble woman who knew 
            What was right, she raised a flowing cup 
            To Hrothgar first, holding it high 
350     For the lord of the Danes to drink, wishing him 
            Joy in that feast. The famous king 
            Drank with pleasure and blessed their banquet. 
            Then Welthow went from warrior to warrior, 
            Pouring a portion from the jeweled cup 
355     For each, till the bracelet-wearing queen 
            Had carried the mead-cup among them and it was Beowulf’s 
            Turn to be served. She saluted the Geats’ 
            Great prince, thanked God for answering her prayers, 
            For allowing her hands the happy duty 
360     Of offering mead to a hero who would help 
            Her afflicted people. He drank what she poured, 
            Edgetho’s brave son, then assured the Danish 
            Queen that his heart was firm and his hands 
            Ready: 
                        “When we crossed the sea, my comrades 
365     And I, I already knew that all 
            My purpose was this: to win the good will 
            Of your people or die in battle, pressed 
            In Grendel’s fierce grip. Let me live in greatness 
            And courage, or here in this hall welcome 
            My death!” 
370     Welthow was pleased with his words, 
            His bright-tongued boasts; she carried them back 
            To her lord, walked nobly across to his side. 
            The feast went on, laughter and music 
            And the brave words of warriors celebrating 
375     Their delight. Then Hrothgar rose, Healfdane’s 
            Son, heavy with sleep; as soon 
            As the sun had gone, he knew that Grendel 
            Would come to Herot, would visit that hall 
            When night had covered the earth with its net 
380     And the shapes of darkness moved black and silent 
            Through the world. Hrothgar’s warriors rose with him. 
            He went to Beowulf, embraced the Geats’ 
            Brave prince, wished him well, and hoped 
            That Herot would be his to command. And then 
            He declared: 
385                 “No one strange to this land 
            Has ever been granted what I’ve given you, 
            No one in all the years of my rule. 
            Make this best of all mead-halls yours, and then 
            Keep it free of evil, fight 
390     With glory in your heart! Purge Herot 
            And your ship will sail home with its treasure-holds full.” . . . 

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