SteelCitySon
League Member
First round of World Title Tournament. Three Way Dance rules, first man eliminated from match is eliminated from tournament and entered into Intercontinental. Two winners will face each other one on one next week.
Dan Ryan vs. Adam Benjamin vs. Rocko Daymon
- Thread starter SteelCitySon
- Start date
I'd Hate to Disappoint
SCENE BEGINS
Caitlyn Daymon
"In what could have been the matchup of the evening, Rocko Daymon took on Christian Sands. The two had exchanged verbal blows earlier on in the week, and it was sure to be a war from the start."
(Blatant cut from black to a close-up of the expressionless face of Caitlyn Daymon.)
Caitlyn Daymon
"It was really interesting to see Sands' style clash with Daymon's, and I hope that someday we'll see these two in the ring together again."
Rocko Daymon
Heh... yeah, no kidding.
(Her eyes move to a point off camera, then back down to their original position.)
Caitlyn Daymon
"All hell broke loose when action spilled out onto the floor, and I've gotta say that the ref bump made things quite exciting. If it weren't for the controversial finish, I would have gave this match three and a half stars, but I'm not one for that sort of thing."
(She pauses for a beat.)
Caitlyn Daymon
A great match up until the very end... but I'm sure the referees received a stern talking to after all was said and done. My rating for the Daymon/Sands match: three stars.
(Cut to a shot of Rocko Daymon, his scarred bare back to the camera, revealed only for a moment before he throws on a t-shirt. He turns around, revealing his face with a bandaged eyebrow, and APC logo on the chest of his shirt.)
Rocko Daymon
This Jake Morgan sounds like my kind of guy.
(As Daymon smiles and clasps his hands behind his head, arching his back into a stretch, the camera pans back to reveal the Washington D.C. hotel room occupied by Rocko and his wife and manager, Caitlyn. The furled covers to the bed along with the assortment of discarded clothes and empty water bottles and pop cans show that they've been there for at least a few days.)
(Caitlyn is lying face down on the bed, wearing a black bra and cargo pants. Her silky brown hair is tied back in a half-assed ponytail. Below her head, with the chin tilted down, is a copy of Empire Pro's weekly promotional program. It's flipped over to the Morgan Recap of January 19, 2004.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Well... you were right. The people know what happened.
Rocko Daymon
Yep. And I know that even with the testimonies of the thousands of people who watched that night, you, me, the referee, everybody watching backstage, and even with the owner Paul Freeman himself, there's going to be one man who will think nothing of it.
Caitlyn Daymon
Christian Sands...
Rocko Daymon
Well, what can you say... I get Adam Benjamin, he gets a referee. We're even.
(Daymon searches a cooler nearby and takes out a bottle of water.)
Caitlyn Daymon
F*ck him, then. It's behind us.
Rocko Daymon
My sentiments exactly.
Caitlyn Daymon
It's not like we won't have another shot in this tournament.
Rocko Daymon
If he's lucky to get that far...
(She looks up.)
Caitlyn Daymon
You don't think he'll last long?
Rocko Daymon
Probably not... but then again, who am I to judge? A week ago I was 100% sure I was going to win my match. But in every situation, there's always an invisible integer... something that pops up at the last second and throws away days of preparation and training. Who's to say that won't happen again? For all we know, UFOs could fly out of the sky, carry off his opponents, and give him the bye to the semi-finals...
And he'll say that's because of his "talent"...
(He shakes his head with an ironic smile, breaking the seal on the cap of his water and taking a sip. Caitlyn looks to the camera for a moment, then back to Rocko.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Are you going to say something about him? About the match?
Rocko Daymon
No. Everybody saw it happen with their own eyes. Sands saw it himself. I'm not going to sink to his level and resort to weak excuses...
(She nods understandingly.)
Caitlyn Daymon
It's Dallas Winston and the High Rollaz all over again.
Rocko Daymon
You said it, babe.
(This time, Rocko gives a brief glance toward the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
I'm going to step out for a few minutes. You need anything while I'm away?
(She looks up and smiles.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Can you grab me a cheeseburger from that Burger King down the road?
(Rocko playfully rolls his eyes.)
Rocko Daymon
Yeah, I'll get you something.
(Briskly, Rocko moves to the closet and withdraws his leather jacket. His wife calls to him again as he pulls it on.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Be careful out there.
Rocko Daymon
I will. Be back soon.
(As he puts his right arm through the sleeve, he opens the door and exits, the camera following him into the hallway. He continues on, approaching a row of elevators, and hits the button. Then he sighs.)
Rocko Daymon
Well... ain't that a f*ckin' drag.
(The bell sounds, and one set of doors opens. Rocko quickly ambles inside, with the camera following. He goes against the glass wall near the back of the elevator, revealing the Washington D. C. evening skyline. He's shaking his head.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, I could be saying a lot at this point... but I'm not Christian Sands; I'm not a man who constantly lives in the past. When the time comes, I'll look back to speak about the full story. But I'm going to focus on future matters for the time being, cause, to me, they're a little more important.
World Heavyweight Championship important, if you know what I mean.
(The doors to the elevator close, and it begins its descent.)
Rocko Daymon
Christian Sands was, perhaps, my greatest challenge ever... but now I'm faced with something even greater. In one hand, we have "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin, once my opponent in the ring, who got the best of me in the final moments of the match. In the other, "The Ego Buster" Dan Ryan, of Global Xtreme Wrestling fame... one of the G.O.D. lackeys who was responsible for dismantling SCW, until he turned on the group for personal reasons.
I'd also say he is partially responsible for Christian Sands' one and only accomplishment in professional wrestling history. I say "partially" cause... well, Dark Carnival was involved too, I suppose. But I won't talk anymore on that subject.
As it stands, I have one competitor who I've recently spent time in the ring with, and another who I know mostly by reputation as opposed to experience. It leaves the scale fairly unbalanced. Here you have two guys who recently had this TITANIC match-up... and I'm thrown into this, like excess baggage. Then there's my experience with these guys to consider. I would like to say that I can confidently go head to head with Benjamin, and try to make up for my past mistakes by picking up the big W that I've been seeking for a while now... but then there's Ryan thrown into the thick of things, and it puts the entire equation into whack.
In the words of a tree hugger, the Feng Shui has been maladjusted.
(The elevator finishes its descent down the shaft. Rocko exits, with the camera, and approaches the desk. The man on the other side looks up to greet him, but doesn't get a chance to say anything.)
Rocko Daymon
I'm going out for a few minutes... the wife is still upstairs in the room.
(Without response, the other nods and makes a record of the brief trip. Rocko goes to the doors and steps outside. The first thing he does is take in a deep breath of air.)
Rocko Daymon
What is there to say about these guys in a bad light? Both are terrific competitors. Adam Benjamin has the skill and motivation to go far in this industry... enough, at least, to oust me in the final seconds of our match. And Dan Ryan? I mean, come on... it's "The Ego Buster".
But we throw something else into the mix... where you have Benjamin's technical prowess and Ryan's phenomenal strength... you've got me, Rocko Daymon. That's three clashing styles all thrown together. Three experts in their own ways... no matter the experience or history.
(Daymon turns and begins to amble down the sidewalk. Down the street, as described, is a Burger King restaurant. Rocko goes in that direction, in no real hurry.)
Rocko Daymon
These other two guys, Benjamin and Ryan, they both deserve the Empire Pro World Title in every way. But in some aspects, I feel as though I deserve it just a bit more. I've put in just as much effort in my matches, if not more. I have displayed a similar kind of talent and motivation that matches their own--it's in the videos, new and old. But what burns my ass is that in spite of the spilled blood and perspired sweat... I'm still getting stiff-armed on many levels.
Blame it on fate, or something that I just haven't seen... but I haven't fully been able to be proud of myself since returning to the ring. I think it's time I just cut the sh*t, and wrestled the way I was meant to. When I step into that ring, I'm going to do more than outlast Dan Ryan and Adam Benjamin... I'm going to fight for victory. I'm going to be the one to pin the unlucky competitor, and disqualify him from this tournament. I'm going to be the one bearing the name all the fans cheer at the end of the match...
I'm going to be the highlight of Aggression. And as much as I'd hate to disappoint a couple of great guys like Ryan and Benjamin of that sort of reward... I'd hate it even more if I disappointed myself.
(He looks to the camera with a confident nod.)
Rocko Daymon
Dan Ryan... Adam Benjamin... you two are a pair of the greatest competitors I've ever seen. But I want this match more than either of you, knowing what's at stake. And I want this belt more than anything. Though I know you guys will stepping into this match with high hopes, I'm going to do anything I can to present you with nothing but disappointment. I want it that damn bad.
(Finally reaching his destination, Rocko walks into the Burger King restaurant. The camera follows him in. Kind of inappropriate for an ending.)
Rocko Daymon
Gimme a sec...
(A minute later, Rocko steps out of the Burger King with a cheeseburger and an order of fries. Back into the cold, dismal air of Washington D.C., a city that witnessed, with their own eyes, the definition of disappointment.)
Rocko Daymon
Come Aggression, when we meet in the ring... the both of you will feel pain unleashed. I will settle for nothing less than victory, no matter what either of you have to say about it.
So keep waiting for your time to come... cause my own is here and calling me.
(With a final nod, Rocko steps out of the frame. We fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
Caitlyn Daymon
"In what could have been the matchup of the evening, Rocko Daymon took on Christian Sands. The two had exchanged verbal blows earlier on in the week, and it was sure to be a war from the start."
(Blatant cut from black to a close-up of the expressionless face of Caitlyn Daymon.)
Caitlyn Daymon
"It was really interesting to see Sands' style clash with Daymon's, and I hope that someday we'll see these two in the ring together again."
Rocko Daymon
Heh... yeah, no kidding.
(Her eyes move to a point off camera, then back down to their original position.)
Caitlyn Daymon
"All hell broke loose when action spilled out onto the floor, and I've gotta say that the ref bump made things quite exciting. If it weren't for the controversial finish, I would have gave this match three and a half stars, but I'm not one for that sort of thing."
(She pauses for a beat.)
Caitlyn Daymon
A great match up until the very end... but I'm sure the referees received a stern talking to after all was said and done. My rating for the Daymon/Sands match: three stars.
(Cut to a shot of Rocko Daymon, his scarred bare back to the camera, revealed only for a moment before he throws on a t-shirt. He turns around, revealing his face with a bandaged eyebrow, and APC logo on the chest of his shirt.)
Rocko Daymon
This Jake Morgan sounds like my kind of guy.
(As Daymon smiles and clasps his hands behind his head, arching his back into a stretch, the camera pans back to reveal the Washington D.C. hotel room occupied by Rocko and his wife and manager, Caitlyn. The furled covers to the bed along with the assortment of discarded clothes and empty water bottles and pop cans show that they've been there for at least a few days.)
(Caitlyn is lying face down on the bed, wearing a black bra and cargo pants. Her silky brown hair is tied back in a half-assed ponytail. Below her head, with the chin tilted down, is a copy of Empire Pro's weekly promotional program. It's flipped over to the Morgan Recap of January 19, 2004.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Well... you were right. The people know what happened.
Rocko Daymon
Yep. And I know that even with the testimonies of the thousands of people who watched that night, you, me, the referee, everybody watching backstage, and even with the owner Paul Freeman himself, there's going to be one man who will think nothing of it.
Caitlyn Daymon
Christian Sands...
Rocko Daymon
Well, what can you say... I get Adam Benjamin, he gets a referee. We're even.
(Daymon searches a cooler nearby and takes out a bottle of water.)
Caitlyn Daymon
F*ck him, then. It's behind us.
Rocko Daymon
My sentiments exactly.
Caitlyn Daymon
It's not like we won't have another shot in this tournament.
Rocko Daymon
If he's lucky to get that far...
(She looks up.)
Caitlyn Daymon
You don't think he'll last long?
Rocko Daymon
Probably not... but then again, who am I to judge? A week ago I was 100% sure I was going to win my match. But in every situation, there's always an invisible integer... something that pops up at the last second and throws away days of preparation and training. Who's to say that won't happen again? For all we know, UFOs could fly out of the sky, carry off his opponents, and give him the bye to the semi-finals...
And he'll say that's because of his "talent"...
(He shakes his head with an ironic smile, breaking the seal on the cap of his water and taking a sip. Caitlyn looks to the camera for a moment, then back to Rocko.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Are you going to say something about him? About the match?
Rocko Daymon
No. Everybody saw it happen with their own eyes. Sands saw it himself. I'm not going to sink to his level and resort to weak excuses...
(She nods understandingly.)
Caitlyn Daymon
It's Dallas Winston and the High Rollaz all over again.
Rocko Daymon
You said it, babe.
(This time, Rocko gives a brief glance toward the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
I'm going to step out for a few minutes. You need anything while I'm away?
(She looks up and smiles.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Can you grab me a cheeseburger from that Burger King down the road?
(Rocko playfully rolls his eyes.)
Rocko Daymon
Yeah, I'll get you something.
(Briskly, Rocko moves to the closet and withdraws his leather jacket. His wife calls to him again as he pulls it on.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Be careful out there.
Rocko Daymon
I will. Be back soon.
(As he puts his right arm through the sleeve, he opens the door and exits, the camera following him into the hallway. He continues on, approaching a row of elevators, and hits the button. Then he sighs.)
Rocko Daymon
Well... ain't that a f*ckin' drag.
(The bell sounds, and one set of doors opens. Rocko quickly ambles inside, with the camera following. He goes against the glass wall near the back of the elevator, revealing the Washington D. C. evening skyline. He's shaking his head.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, I could be saying a lot at this point... but I'm not Christian Sands; I'm not a man who constantly lives in the past. When the time comes, I'll look back to speak about the full story. But I'm going to focus on future matters for the time being, cause, to me, they're a little more important.
World Heavyweight Championship important, if you know what I mean.
(The doors to the elevator close, and it begins its descent.)
Rocko Daymon
Christian Sands was, perhaps, my greatest challenge ever... but now I'm faced with something even greater. In one hand, we have "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin, once my opponent in the ring, who got the best of me in the final moments of the match. In the other, "The Ego Buster" Dan Ryan, of Global Xtreme Wrestling fame... one of the G.O.D. lackeys who was responsible for dismantling SCW, until he turned on the group for personal reasons.
I'd also say he is partially responsible for Christian Sands' one and only accomplishment in professional wrestling history. I say "partially" cause... well, Dark Carnival was involved too, I suppose. But I won't talk anymore on that subject.
As it stands, I have one competitor who I've recently spent time in the ring with, and another who I know mostly by reputation as opposed to experience. It leaves the scale fairly unbalanced. Here you have two guys who recently had this TITANIC match-up... and I'm thrown into this, like excess baggage. Then there's my experience with these guys to consider. I would like to say that I can confidently go head to head with Benjamin, and try to make up for my past mistakes by picking up the big W that I've been seeking for a while now... but then there's Ryan thrown into the thick of things, and it puts the entire equation into whack.
In the words of a tree hugger, the Feng Shui has been maladjusted.
(The elevator finishes its descent down the shaft. Rocko exits, with the camera, and approaches the desk. The man on the other side looks up to greet him, but doesn't get a chance to say anything.)
Rocko Daymon
I'm going out for a few minutes... the wife is still upstairs in the room.
(Without response, the other nods and makes a record of the brief trip. Rocko goes to the doors and steps outside. The first thing he does is take in a deep breath of air.)
Rocko Daymon
What is there to say about these guys in a bad light? Both are terrific competitors. Adam Benjamin has the skill and motivation to go far in this industry... enough, at least, to oust me in the final seconds of our match. And Dan Ryan? I mean, come on... it's "The Ego Buster".
But we throw something else into the mix... where you have Benjamin's technical prowess and Ryan's phenomenal strength... you've got me, Rocko Daymon. That's three clashing styles all thrown together. Three experts in their own ways... no matter the experience or history.
(Daymon turns and begins to amble down the sidewalk. Down the street, as described, is a Burger King restaurant. Rocko goes in that direction, in no real hurry.)
Rocko Daymon
These other two guys, Benjamin and Ryan, they both deserve the Empire Pro World Title in every way. But in some aspects, I feel as though I deserve it just a bit more. I've put in just as much effort in my matches, if not more. I have displayed a similar kind of talent and motivation that matches their own--it's in the videos, new and old. But what burns my ass is that in spite of the spilled blood and perspired sweat... I'm still getting stiff-armed on many levels.
Blame it on fate, or something that I just haven't seen... but I haven't fully been able to be proud of myself since returning to the ring. I think it's time I just cut the sh*t, and wrestled the way I was meant to. When I step into that ring, I'm going to do more than outlast Dan Ryan and Adam Benjamin... I'm going to fight for victory. I'm going to be the one to pin the unlucky competitor, and disqualify him from this tournament. I'm going to be the one bearing the name all the fans cheer at the end of the match...
I'm going to be the highlight of Aggression. And as much as I'd hate to disappoint a couple of great guys like Ryan and Benjamin of that sort of reward... I'd hate it even more if I disappointed myself.
(He looks to the camera with a confident nod.)
Rocko Daymon
Dan Ryan... Adam Benjamin... you two are a pair of the greatest competitors I've ever seen. But I want this match more than either of you, knowing what's at stake. And I want this belt more than anything. Though I know you guys will stepping into this match with high hopes, I'm going to do anything I can to present you with nothing but disappointment. I want it that damn bad.
(Finally reaching his destination, Rocko walks into the Burger King restaurant. The camera follows him in. Kind of inappropriate for an ending.)
Rocko Daymon
Gimme a sec...
(A minute later, Rocko steps out of the Burger King with a cheeseburger and an order of fries. Back into the cold, dismal air of Washington D.C., a city that witnessed, with their own eyes, the definition of disappointment.)
Rocko Daymon
Come Aggression, when we meet in the ring... the both of you will feel pain unleashed. I will settle for nothing less than victory, no matter what either of you have to say about it.
So keep waiting for your time to come... cause my own is here and calling me.
(With a final nod, Rocko steps out of the frame. We fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
"One of these things is not like the other; one of these things is different than before."
------
FADE IN....
DAN RYAN stands in front of a large banner. Looking at what little bit of it we can see around his frame, we see the logo for Empire Pro Wrestling with the word "Pro" crossed out in hastily scrawled red marker.
Ryan folds his arms and looks perturbed.
Ryan: "And so, we have completed our first show and the masses have seen what this place is all about. Well allow me to give what will come to be known as the only opinion in the world that matters.....mine."
"I find that Paul Freeman is a worthless pile of dog crap."
"What was that??"
"I said he's a worthless....pile....of dog ....crap."
"First of all, the man practically blows his wad with the only matchup worth seeing in this place....on the very first show. It's so nice to see that you know how to save the big money match for a time when we can all grow in anticipation after a long build-up."
"Ohhhhh wait."
"Secondly, this 'tournament' you've set up is a complete and total joke if I've ever seen one. Three way dances to move to the second round?? Are you kidding me?"
"Are you sure you didn't forget to put the word 'Extreme' somewhere in the title of our company? Are we holding a show in Philly anytime soon?"
"And last but not least.....Adam Benjamin and Rocko Daymon?? WHAT THE...???"
"Pauly, are you trying to get half your roster embarrassed in one fell swoop? It's not fair what you're doing to these two, and I have half a mind to report you to OSHA. This match is a hazardous working condition if ever I saw one."
"And why in the HELL....am I being subjected to a day in the life with the Daymon family?? Can you explain that one to me?"
Ryan motions off-camera...
"Hey you....come here...."
A random looking crew worker comes on screen looking confused. Ryan looks up into nowhere in particular...
"Can you tell me why I just had to sit through a long video intro to what the Daymon's do when they're hanging out in the hotel room?"
The worker glances at the camera, then shakes his head negative...
"NO? Thank you so much.....Joe is it?"
Worker: "Actually, it's...."
Ryan: "No one cares..."
Ryan shoves him off-screen....
"Honestly, Freeman....I'm seriously considering boycotting this entire show. After all, you couldn't even see to it that Beast entertain me enough to keep me from falling asleep. I had to drop my damn hand a third time on purpose just to end that travesty. Did you read that Morgan report?? Two and a half stars?"
"I blame management."
"I'm calling for an immediate change in management or some serious improvement around here, or I walk."
Ryan stands staring into the camera for a few moments......then suddenly smiles and chuckles...
"I'm just kiddin'"
"Do you people really think I'd throw away a shot at another World title?? Gosh naw. I'll be at the show, don't worry."
"Rocko....Adam....I don't think you're gonna have ta worry 'bout me none. I'm just here to have some fun and give the fans somethin' ta cheer for. After all....that's what Empire Pro Wrasslin' is all about."
"Now you two go and get you one o' them protein shakes and get to workin'. Come bell time yer gonna be in fer a heap o' trouble I reckon."
"Oh...and Beast.....lay off the sour grapes there, sport. You won your match just like you said you would. Don't go cryin' and threatenin' to do things that you'll regret down the road."
"I need you to be nice and healthy for a might bit longer. After all, you want to have a long and fruitful career here in Empire Pro doncha boy?"
"Now that's somethin' I'd like ta see.....in fact....."
"I'm bankin' on it."
Ryan flashes a huge grin as we FADE OUT....
------
FADE IN....
DAN RYAN stands in front of a large banner. Looking at what little bit of it we can see around his frame, we see the logo for Empire Pro Wrestling with the word "Pro" crossed out in hastily scrawled red marker.
Ryan folds his arms and looks perturbed.
Ryan: "And so, we have completed our first show and the masses have seen what this place is all about. Well allow me to give what will come to be known as the only opinion in the world that matters.....mine."
"I find that Paul Freeman is a worthless pile of dog crap."
"What was that??"
"I said he's a worthless....pile....of dog ....crap."
"First of all, the man practically blows his wad with the only matchup worth seeing in this place....on the very first show. It's so nice to see that you know how to save the big money match for a time when we can all grow in anticipation after a long build-up."
"Ohhhhh wait."
"Secondly, this 'tournament' you've set up is a complete and total joke if I've ever seen one. Three way dances to move to the second round?? Are you kidding me?"
"Are you sure you didn't forget to put the word 'Extreme' somewhere in the title of our company? Are we holding a show in Philly anytime soon?"
"And last but not least.....Adam Benjamin and Rocko Daymon?? WHAT THE...???"
"Pauly, are you trying to get half your roster embarrassed in one fell swoop? It's not fair what you're doing to these two, and I have half a mind to report you to OSHA. This match is a hazardous working condition if ever I saw one."
"And why in the HELL....am I being subjected to a day in the life with the Daymon family?? Can you explain that one to me?"
Ryan motions off-camera...
"Hey you....come here...."
A random looking crew worker comes on screen looking confused. Ryan looks up into nowhere in particular...
"Can you tell me why I just had to sit through a long video intro to what the Daymon's do when they're hanging out in the hotel room?"
The worker glances at the camera, then shakes his head negative...
"NO? Thank you so much.....Joe is it?"
Worker: "Actually, it's...."
Ryan: "No one cares..."
Ryan shoves him off-screen....
"Honestly, Freeman....I'm seriously considering boycotting this entire show. After all, you couldn't even see to it that Beast entertain me enough to keep me from falling asleep. I had to drop my damn hand a third time on purpose just to end that travesty. Did you read that Morgan report?? Two and a half stars?"
"I blame management."
"I'm calling for an immediate change in management or some serious improvement around here, or I walk."
Ryan stands staring into the camera for a few moments......then suddenly smiles and chuckles...
"I'm just kiddin'"
"Do you people really think I'd throw away a shot at another World title?? Gosh naw. I'll be at the show, don't worry."
"Rocko....Adam....I don't think you're gonna have ta worry 'bout me none. I'm just here to have some fun and give the fans somethin' ta cheer for. After all....that's what Empire Pro Wrasslin' is all about."
"Now you two go and get you one o' them protein shakes and get to workin'. Come bell time yer gonna be in fer a heap o' trouble I reckon."
"Oh...and Beast.....lay off the sour grapes there, sport. You won your match just like you said you would. Don't go cryin' and threatenin' to do things that you'll regret down the road."
"I need you to be nice and healthy for a might bit longer. After all, you want to have a long and fruitful career here in Empire Pro doncha boy?"
"Now that's somethin' I'd like ta see.....in fact....."
"I'm bankin' on it."
Ryan flashes a huge grin as we FADE OUT....
Adam_Benjamin
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 313
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 45
the fork in the road
(Fade in to Adam Benjamin sitting on a chair inside a wrestling ring. Adam is seen wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood over his head so that his face cannot be seen as he begins talking)
Benjamin: In life one takes steps continuously forward towards his or her path. And sometimes one comes to what is known as a fork in the road. At this fork there are usually two moves one can make, choice A, or choice B. This week it looks like I am at a fork in the road so to speak forcing me to choose either Rocko or Dan Ryan to defeat and in turn take the other with me to round two next week. In one corner you have Rocko, a man that I have had the better of in the past and feel very confident defeating again. In the other corner is a man that little over a month ago defeated me in a match that has left me waiting for this very moment. A chance much like RD is thinking in regards to Yours Truly, to have a rematch and see if the almighty was, or is should I say better than me or was it dare I say a fluke when you laid me down for a three count last month?
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: RD a few weeks ago we were on the verge of being tag team partners, and at the same time I defeated you in the middle of the ring. I respect you talent however at this stage in my career truly believe that I am simple better than you. I took everything you had in the ring, and stood strong and walked out the winner. Yet here we are again, this time a new federation, however all I hear from you is the same sad story with the same sad looking subplot. I mean how many times are you going to deliver the classic family guy promo about how this is your chance this time around to become a legend. How many times are we going to here how you have come so far from you lowest point of being injured, to now back in the ring to stand alone the best this company has to offer? You mentioned that you put just as much effort in your matches as Yours Truly if not more? Now I am not here to stand tall and defeat you in a verbal pissing contest, however if you give more effort then me in the ring why are you such a failure inside the square circle then? You remind me off an old stuffed animal you know the one that a little rug rat simple will not toss away. Been stiched a millions times, one eye, old stains of juicy juice on the arms, but for some reasons little Tommy or in your case Cat will simply not throw you away. But guess what RD in our last match I beat you cleanly just like I said I would. This time I am going to beat you again however I am going to beat you to a point that even you wife will finally say Rocko I think its time to make a career change your time has past, but I love you still.
(Adam laughs)
Benjamin: You know I hear a lot of people talking about wanting to become Empire Pro’s first Champion but none of you really know what it is not be a champion and never be defeated. Yours Truly on the other hand was and is still a champion, never once has I defeated for the MCW world title, it took a federation closing to strip me of my pride, my honor, my dream! I heard the announcer talking about me snapping when Mayhem drop me on that table last week. Yours Truly did not snap he simply hit boiling point. Some flesh light trying to end my career instead of out wrestling me was simply the last straw. If anything, or anyone wants this belt here in Empire Pro its Yours Truly, however I do not stop at wanting, I take the next step and which is called achieving.
(Adam claps his hands together)
Benjamin: The last time I talked about you I gave you respect and honored your abilities and what you have done for this sport. However this time around I know what expect when I face you. I know what I did wrong and in turn I know what I have to correct. Dan you beat me however you did not truly defeat me. I am here standing ready and prepared to show you that pinning me was indeed a victory for you but at the same time my name still is planted in your brain. You left that match knowing that at any given second you could have lost, it took everything you have to beat me Dan, and I walked away a few moves away from victory, and I am confident that this time I am going to defeat you. However my dilemma this week is when I want to defeat you. Do I want to take out RD and move forward to facing you one on one, or do I take the other turn in the fork and pin you this week and face a man that I know I can beat one on one RD?
(Adam takes down his hood, his face is now seen clearly)
Benjamin: That is the question that only I have the answer too, I guess you will all have to stay tuned for the conclusion. But before I go I would like to tell everyone the Benji fact of the day which is brought to you today by the letter W which in my case stands for Win, and the number 1 which is my ranking here in the Empire Pro. Ok here it goes, Yours Truly is a big time fan of soup operas, however hates the reality based show called the Daymon’s…. Until next time I am the feature presentation “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin signing off…
(Fade to black)
(Fade in to Adam Benjamin sitting on a chair inside a wrestling ring. Adam is seen wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood over his head so that his face cannot be seen as he begins talking)
Benjamin: In life one takes steps continuously forward towards his or her path. And sometimes one comes to what is known as a fork in the road. At this fork there are usually two moves one can make, choice A, or choice B. This week it looks like I am at a fork in the road so to speak forcing me to choose either Rocko or Dan Ryan to defeat and in turn take the other with me to round two next week. In one corner you have Rocko, a man that I have had the better of in the past and feel very confident defeating again. In the other corner is a man that little over a month ago defeated me in a match that has left me waiting for this very moment. A chance much like RD is thinking in regards to Yours Truly, to have a rematch and see if the almighty was, or is should I say better than me or was it dare I say a fluke when you laid me down for a three count last month?
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: RD a few weeks ago we were on the verge of being tag team partners, and at the same time I defeated you in the middle of the ring. I respect you talent however at this stage in my career truly believe that I am simple better than you. I took everything you had in the ring, and stood strong and walked out the winner. Yet here we are again, this time a new federation, however all I hear from you is the same sad story with the same sad looking subplot. I mean how many times are you going to deliver the classic family guy promo about how this is your chance this time around to become a legend. How many times are we going to here how you have come so far from you lowest point of being injured, to now back in the ring to stand alone the best this company has to offer? You mentioned that you put just as much effort in your matches as Yours Truly if not more? Now I am not here to stand tall and defeat you in a verbal pissing contest, however if you give more effort then me in the ring why are you such a failure inside the square circle then? You remind me off an old stuffed animal you know the one that a little rug rat simple will not toss away. Been stiched a millions times, one eye, old stains of juicy juice on the arms, but for some reasons little Tommy or in your case Cat will simply not throw you away. But guess what RD in our last match I beat you cleanly just like I said I would. This time I am going to beat you again however I am going to beat you to a point that even you wife will finally say Rocko I think its time to make a career change your time has past, but I love you still.
(Adam laughs)
Benjamin: You know I hear a lot of people talking about wanting to become Empire Pro’s first Champion but none of you really know what it is not be a champion and never be defeated. Yours Truly on the other hand was and is still a champion, never once has I defeated for the MCW world title, it took a federation closing to strip me of my pride, my honor, my dream! I heard the announcer talking about me snapping when Mayhem drop me on that table last week. Yours Truly did not snap he simply hit boiling point. Some flesh light trying to end my career instead of out wrestling me was simply the last straw. If anything, or anyone wants this belt here in Empire Pro its Yours Truly, however I do not stop at wanting, I take the next step and which is called achieving.
(Adam claps his hands together)
Benjamin: The last time I talked about you I gave you respect and honored your abilities and what you have done for this sport. However this time around I know what expect when I face you. I know what I did wrong and in turn I know what I have to correct. Dan you beat me however you did not truly defeat me. I am here standing ready and prepared to show you that pinning me was indeed a victory for you but at the same time my name still is planted in your brain. You left that match knowing that at any given second you could have lost, it took everything you have to beat me Dan, and I walked away a few moves away from victory, and I am confident that this time I am going to defeat you. However my dilemma this week is when I want to defeat you. Do I want to take out RD and move forward to facing you one on one, or do I take the other turn in the fork and pin you this week and face a man that I know I can beat one on one RD?
(Adam takes down his hood, his face is now seen clearly)
Benjamin: That is the question that only I have the answer too, I guess you will all have to stay tuned for the conclusion. But before I go I would like to tell everyone the Benji fact of the day which is brought to you today by the letter W which in my case stands for Win, and the number 1 which is my ranking here in the Empire Pro. Ok here it goes, Yours Truly is a big time fan of soup operas, however hates the reality based show called the Daymon’s…. Until next time I am the feature presentation “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin signing off…
(Fade to black)
SCENE BEGINS
Rocko Daymon
We're here today... to get some records straight. We are here, to analyze, to remember, and to discuss.
(Blatant cut to a close-up of Rocko Daymon's lower face.)
Rocko Daymon
There's not going to be any beating around the bush, or slight-of-hand magic tricks... I'm going to show everyone watching this what reality has shown us. And I'm going to let them decide for themselves... what really happened.
(We zoom out, revealing more of the speaking individual, who sits in an office chair in a room full of editing equipment.)
Rocko Daymon
You see, in ancient times... historical facts were passed on through stories, told from generation to generation. But you know what happens in those cases, right? Ever man who listens to a story tells it in a different way. He's gotta add his own twist. Normally, it wouldn't be a big difference from the way he heard it. But over time, you can guess that the story will become something totally different.
Well, I was watching something earlier today... and I couldn't help but be reminded of this process. You see, Adam Benjamin came out and told it HIS way. But I'm going to tell everybody right now what happened that night. And then, I'm going to do something Adam Benjamin couldn't in his last promo... either because he felt it wasn't necessary, or because he's blatantly dodging the truth.
(He clears his throat.)
Rocko Daymon
So here's what happens... a few weeks ago, Benjamin and I meet at Battleground Countown... one on one, no special stipulations. We go on fighting each other for several minutes... each of us taking our spots. The match goes both ways for a long time, two equal competitors going at it...
Then, in the final moments... something happens. I suddenly take control. I blast Adam Benjamin with the Phantom Train. I set up for the Brain Rocker. Five seconds later, the match is over. And I am not declared the winner.
Now before I play back the footage, just ask yourself... what could possibly have happened in these quick five seconds that could have turned the entire match? Could Benjamin have suddenly come back with Yours Truly 2k3, or the Benjamin Bomber, from out of nowhere, and get the quick pinfall? Well let's think about it some more. Five seconds... yet there would have to be three for each count made by the referee. Maybe one more second added as the ref signals the timekeeper to ring the bell... that leaves one second of action, for Adam Benjamin to suddenly come back, and make a strong win.
What could have happened, in one second?
(He is silent for a moment to allow the viewer the time to think about it.)
Rocko Daymon
Physically, one second isn't much time. But mentally, a LOT can happen. Maybe Benjamin could suddenly get this idea that his winning streak is in jeopardy, and he puts everything forward. Maybe I'm under the impression that I have everything in control, and there's nowhere he can go, and maybe that was a little premature. Who the hell knows... maybe luck stepped in that one second and threw a monkey wrench into my plans.
Whatever happened, Benjamin suddenly rolled up and got a three count. That... was it. No titanic finisher, leaving the fans on their feet, cheering and chanting his name... no fireworks, or great celebration. Just a roll-up, and that was it. Happened as fast as a jack rabbit on a date...
Now... just so there's no confusion... here's the proof.
(Rocko turns to a TV screen, glowing blue, and presses play on a nearby VCR. It springs to life, and shows footage from Battleground Countdown. Rocko pulls Adam out of the corner, having hit him with the Phantom Train, and sets up for the Brain Rocker Redux. Suddenly, Benjamin kicks forward and bridges a pin. When its over, Rocko turns it off and turns to face the camera again.)
Rocko Daymon
Now... perhaps you can explain to me, Adam, how that is evidence that you took everything I had in the ring and "stood strong". Cause to me, that looked like blind luck. To me, and to everyone else, that was an obvious shot in the dark... a last ditch effort, which inevitably came out to your favor.
You see, we "Ameriscums" are big sports fans. In our football, we call something like this a long bomb from the 50 yard line that goes into the endzone. In basketball, it's a three pointer at the buzzer. Sometimes, in what people call miracles, someone makes a catch, or the ball goes through the hoop. What happened in our match, Adam, was nothing different.
(He pulls the tape out of the VCR and holds it up to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
You're probably wondering... what does it matter? You won, after all... yes, I won't deny that. But what burns my ass is how you feel you are "simply better" by this one second. Suddenly, by bridging a pin at the last possible moment, you're a tier above me... you're at an entirely different level, that I could never hope to get to. This is exactly what goes on in your mind, but I fail to see how you could get to this mindset.
For every minute of that match, I gave my all. I fought tooth and nail, and pushed myself beyond my limits. In the end, I was favored a glorious finish... hitting you with the Train, and what would have been the Brain Rocker Redux. You had that entire match to prove yourself as the better man, and you failed at every turn. You could not put me down... you couldn't pull out the Yours Truly 2k3 to get the big conclusive spot...
Instead, you got lucky one second. I'm sorry, Benji... but that does NOT make you "simply better". That makes you simply lucky. And by watching your promo, its obvious that you're under this deluded mindset which tells you that ONE SECOND is all it takes to put you one step above me.
(He shakes his head.)
Rocko Daymon
Bad news, Bucko. Unlike you, I learn from every one of my matches, and adapt. If you think I'm going to let that one second repeat itself in our fifteen or twenty minute three way dance at Aggression, you're sorely mistaken. You have in no way proven yourself better than me... the fans know it, and I know it. You, however, have a problem understanding the facts...
Well, now I've shown the facts to everybody. What say you now?
(The door opens. Rocko looks over his shoulder, and Caitlyn Daymon steps into the room holding a cassette tape.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Ready for part 2?
Rocko Daymon
Just in time.
(Caitlyn makes the handoff, and Rocko puts the newly delivered tape into the VCR.)
Rocko Daymon
Now here's what gets me, Adam... is how you can derive all of this from OUR match, when you could be under a totally different impression from another, yet VAGUELY SIMILAR match you were involved in.
(He cues the tape and turns to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Here's another fact of history... rewind to the Revolution before that, when Benjamin met Dan Ryan in the ring. After a long, tough battle between these two, things seemed to be over after Adam Benjamin hammered Dan Ryan with Yours Truly 2k3. It seemed to be over. But it wasn't... Ryan kicked out of the three count.
To capitalize, Benjamin went to the top rope... as he came off, Ryan went for a shot to the stomach, countering Benjamin, and immediately pulled off the Humilty Bomb. Three counts later, match is over... Ryan is declared the winner.
Here it is... living proof.
(He presses play, and we see the Revolution of subject. Benjamin hits Ryan with Yours Truly 2k3 out of nowhere. Exhausted, it takes him a moment to pull himself over Ryan to make a pin. Ryan, phenomenally, kicks out at the 2. Benjamin attempts to further wear his opponent down, and goes to the top rope. He comes off with an axe-handle smash, which is blocked in the very way Rocko described. Dan Ryan quickly goes for the Humility Bomb and wins the match. Rocko stops the tape.)
Rocko Daymon
This wasn't very different from Daymon/Benjamin, but you can obviously see some discrepancies. Major ones, in fact. First, I was never able to hit Adam Benjamin with the Brain Rocker Redux... and if I had, I would probably be sitting here now with the bragging rights. Benjamin, on the other hand, hit HIS opponent with his finisher... which Dan Ryan kicked out of.
Secondly, Ryan did not come back in a quick second, winning with a quick pinfall. What happened was that he took advantage of Benjamin's OBVIOUS mistake of going to the top rope. Then, he went for the Humilty Bomb... no roll-up, no bridge, just a powerbomb that rocked the entire arena and caused all the fans to jump out of their seats.
So... what's the point?
(He removes the tape, and holds both up for the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, here it is. In one hand, we have a speeding locomotive that's suddenly derailed by a pebble on the tracks... and in the other, an engine that runs out of steam, and gets blown away without a second's hesitation.
Now, let's think back to what Benjamin said. No, I'm not going to be playing THAT tape, cause if he can't remember his own words, then he's a dumbf*ck. What he said was that he implied that Ryan's win was merely a fluke... he goes on to brag about how he forced Ryan to give "everything he had", as if at any second Benjamin could have won that match.
Am I missing something, or are we confusing these two stories? Cause in the match Benjamin won out of simple luck, and perhaps by a mistake on my own part, he's saying that he outwrestled me in every way and proved himself to be the better man. However, in the match he LOST by his OWN mistake, via ass-whooping courteousy of Dan Ryan, he's saying that his opponent JUST NARROWLY squeaked by with a victory.
(He shakes his head in confusion.)
Rocko Daymon
Benjamin... the viewing audience, the Empire Pro talent, and myself would all like to ask that you GET YOUR F*CKING STORY STRAIGHT.
Hypocrisy is a disease, and you are an obvious carrier.
(He takes both tapes in one hand and swivels his chair to face Caitlyn.)
Rocko Daymon
Could you label these and put them in the library?
Caitlyn Daymon
Sure.
(Caitlyn receives both tapes.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Do you need anything else?
Rocko Daymon
No. Thanks, babe.
(With a smile, Caitlyn turns and exits the room. Rocko turns himself toward the camera again.)
Rocko Daymon
And now that we're finished getting this record straight... analyzing, remembering, discussing... we're going to talk about your will to become a World Champion the second time. And personally, I truly don't think you know what it MEANS to be a world champion. I once had SCW's heavy strap... Dan Ryan has his own records. I think between Ryan and myself, there's a good understanding of what it means to be the icon of a federation, to compete for the company and the fans for as much as yourself.
But you, Adam... you feel that just because you were an undefeated champion, somehow that gives you a little more *umph* in your reputation. First and foremost, I'm going to point out that you defended that title for only a few weeks before the fed closed. That ISN'T much time, Benjamin. In order to be hailed as a GREAT champion, you must reign for a GREAT time.
Want something for comparison?
(He reaches off camera and picks up a replica mold of the SCW World Title, awarded to him to commemorate his title reign.)
Rocko Daymon
As I said, I was the former World Champion of SCW... an established federation that had been around for years, mind you; not a fledgling like MCW. I held onto this belt for a good six months before I was beaten by Devon Jackson. Think of that, Benjamin... six months of defending this title. Six months, of fighting off challenger after challenger... all of them main event material. I got my ass kicked on every Showtime since the night I won that title, but I hung onto it... I wouldn't let it leave my grasp, until someone finally proved he wanted it a bit more after my six month reign.
But here's the catch... in spite of that six month reign, I STILL don't consider myself to have been a true World Champion. After I left, I was literally forgotten to have ever held onto the belt. I am not proud of what went on during that time, cause I felt I could have done more. If I was content, do you think I'd be back in this industry?
Tell me, Benji... explain to me, how YOUR case is SO much better. Draw me a diagram that shows why a fling in a small federation that lasted a couple weeks, which you adore as your greatest achievement ever, is that much better than a six month reign in Superior Championship Wrestling.
(He shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
I think you need to put your ego on hold and look at the facts, Benjamin. You may have beaten me before... but that doesn't make you better than me. Pat yourself on the back, but don't get comfortable. I have something to prove to you when we fight in the ring... something that's going amount to a LITTLE MORE than one second of luck.
Prepare to have your confidence shaken... cause while you see yourself at a fork in the road, I see you looking down a cliff. All it takes is a swift kick in the rear, by Dan Ryan or myself, to send you off the rock. Cause plain and simple, Benji... you need that chip taken off your shoulder, before you float so high you bump your head on the invisble ceiling that disallows you from becoming Rocko Daymon caliber...
(Rocko sets his title aside, and clears his throat. A quick break, then back into the flow of things.)
Rocko Daymon
Now... we speak about Dan Ryan. One promo, many words spoken... little meaning really brought across. The strange thing is, watching Dan Ryan speak reminded me of a book I read once as a kid. It was called, "The Whipping Boy" by Sid Fleischman. Long story short, a rich kid hires a street urchin, so every time he misbehaves, the physical punishment gets unleashed on a nother person.
Dan Ryan kind of reminds me of that rich kid, Prince Brat. Ryan acts like nothing more than an overgrown child strayed into the wilderness. He automatically feels that he is the most important person, and people should wait on him at every moment to suit his needs.
Newsflash, Ryan... certainly even YOU would realize that who you are in CSWA or GXW means NOTHING when you come into Empire Pro. You're in front of a different audience, and if you want the respect and the priviledges you feel you deserve, you gotta earn every minute of it. Even I understand that.
(He pauses for a beat.)
Rocko Daymon
It's pretty obvious that you don't take this match very seriously... otherwise, you'd be a bit more proficient in expressing your displeasure without resorting to trash talk. No, you're simply along for the ride... am I right? There isn't anything in your last promo that even IMPLIES you want this title. Instead, it's quite obvious that you're taking this tournament for granted.
Benjamin at least wants the belt... but there's something lacking in the both of you that convinces me that neither of you are cut out for this tournament. I've been sidelined for over a year... and now that I'm back, I'm ready to explode onto the scene, and accomplish something that will overshadow my previous achievements. I feel the Empire Pro World Title will do that for me.
Furthermore, I'm tired of the disappointments and let-downs that have plagued me since my return. I'm ready to put a stop to all of that, and come out and do what I intended! You two, on the other hand... I think the both of you are in need of being knocked off of your high horses. I intend to do that at Aggression. It's more than a game of proving myself... it's more than choosing your opponent... it's survival. I'm backed into a corner, and I'm going to lash out. You, Dan Ryan, and Adam Benjamin... will be humbled.
And good luck to the one who outlasts the other when the two of you are succumbed to my wrath...
(With a nod, we fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
Rocko Daymon
We're here today... to get some records straight. We are here, to analyze, to remember, and to discuss.
(Blatant cut to a close-up of Rocko Daymon's lower face.)
Rocko Daymon
There's not going to be any beating around the bush, or slight-of-hand magic tricks... I'm going to show everyone watching this what reality has shown us. And I'm going to let them decide for themselves... what really happened.
(We zoom out, revealing more of the speaking individual, who sits in an office chair in a room full of editing equipment.)
Rocko Daymon
You see, in ancient times... historical facts were passed on through stories, told from generation to generation. But you know what happens in those cases, right? Ever man who listens to a story tells it in a different way. He's gotta add his own twist. Normally, it wouldn't be a big difference from the way he heard it. But over time, you can guess that the story will become something totally different.
Well, I was watching something earlier today... and I couldn't help but be reminded of this process. You see, Adam Benjamin came out and told it HIS way. But I'm going to tell everybody right now what happened that night. And then, I'm going to do something Adam Benjamin couldn't in his last promo... either because he felt it wasn't necessary, or because he's blatantly dodging the truth.
(He clears his throat.)
Rocko Daymon
So here's what happens... a few weeks ago, Benjamin and I meet at Battleground Countown... one on one, no special stipulations. We go on fighting each other for several minutes... each of us taking our spots. The match goes both ways for a long time, two equal competitors going at it...
Then, in the final moments... something happens. I suddenly take control. I blast Adam Benjamin with the Phantom Train. I set up for the Brain Rocker. Five seconds later, the match is over. And I am not declared the winner.
Now before I play back the footage, just ask yourself... what could possibly have happened in these quick five seconds that could have turned the entire match? Could Benjamin have suddenly come back with Yours Truly 2k3, or the Benjamin Bomber, from out of nowhere, and get the quick pinfall? Well let's think about it some more. Five seconds... yet there would have to be three for each count made by the referee. Maybe one more second added as the ref signals the timekeeper to ring the bell... that leaves one second of action, for Adam Benjamin to suddenly come back, and make a strong win.
What could have happened, in one second?
(He is silent for a moment to allow the viewer the time to think about it.)
Rocko Daymon
Physically, one second isn't much time. But mentally, a LOT can happen. Maybe Benjamin could suddenly get this idea that his winning streak is in jeopardy, and he puts everything forward. Maybe I'm under the impression that I have everything in control, and there's nowhere he can go, and maybe that was a little premature. Who the hell knows... maybe luck stepped in that one second and threw a monkey wrench into my plans.
Whatever happened, Benjamin suddenly rolled up and got a three count. That... was it. No titanic finisher, leaving the fans on their feet, cheering and chanting his name... no fireworks, or great celebration. Just a roll-up, and that was it. Happened as fast as a jack rabbit on a date...
Now... just so there's no confusion... here's the proof.
(Rocko turns to a TV screen, glowing blue, and presses play on a nearby VCR. It springs to life, and shows footage from Battleground Countdown. Rocko pulls Adam out of the corner, having hit him with the Phantom Train, and sets up for the Brain Rocker Redux. Suddenly, Benjamin kicks forward and bridges a pin. When its over, Rocko turns it off and turns to face the camera again.)
Rocko Daymon
Now... perhaps you can explain to me, Adam, how that is evidence that you took everything I had in the ring and "stood strong". Cause to me, that looked like blind luck. To me, and to everyone else, that was an obvious shot in the dark... a last ditch effort, which inevitably came out to your favor.
You see, we "Ameriscums" are big sports fans. In our football, we call something like this a long bomb from the 50 yard line that goes into the endzone. In basketball, it's a three pointer at the buzzer. Sometimes, in what people call miracles, someone makes a catch, or the ball goes through the hoop. What happened in our match, Adam, was nothing different.
(He pulls the tape out of the VCR and holds it up to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
You're probably wondering... what does it matter? You won, after all... yes, I won't deny that. But what burns my ass is how you feel you are "simply better" by this one second. Suddenly, by bridging a pin at the last possible moment, you're a tier above me... you're at an entirely different level, that I could never hope to get to. This is exactly what goes on in your mind, but I fail to see how you could get to this mindset.
For every minute of that match, I gave my all. I fought tooth and nail, and pushed myself beyond my limits. In the end, I was favored a glorious finish... hitting you with the Train, and what would have been the Brain Rocker Redux. You had that entire match to prove yourself as the better man, and you failed at every turn. You could not put me down... you couldn't pull out the Yours Truly 2k3 to get the big conclusive spot...
Instead, you got lucky one second. I'm sorry, Benji... but that does NOT make you "simply better". That makes you simply lucky. And by watching your promo, its obvious that you're under this deluded mindset which tells you that ONE SECOND is all it takes to put you one step above me.
(He shakes his head.)
Rocko Daymon
Bad news, Bucko. Unlike you, I learn from every one of my matches, and adapt. If you think I'm going to let that one second repeat itself in our fifteen or twenty minute three way dance at Aggression, you're sorely mistaken. You have in no way proven yourself better than me... the fans know it, and I know it. You, however, have a problem understanding the facts...
Well, now I've shown the facts to everybody. What say you now?
(The door opens. Rocko looks over his shoulder, and Caitlyn Daymon steps into the room holding a cassette tape.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Ready for part 2?
Rocko Daymon
Just in time.
(Caitlyn makes the handoff, and Rocko puts the newly delivered tape into the VCR.)
Rocko Daymon
Now here's what gets me, Adam... is how you can derive all of this from OUR match, when you could be under a totally different impression from another, yet VAGUELY SIMILAR match you were involved in.
(He cues the tape and turns to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Here's another fact of history... rewind to the Revolution before that, when Benjamin met Dan Ryan in the ring. After a long, tough battle between these two, things seemed to be over after Adam Benjamin hammered Dan Ryan with Yours Truly 2k3. It seemed to be over. But it wasn't... Ryan kicked out of the three count.
To capitalize, Benjamin went to the top rope... as he came off, Ryan went for a shot to the stomach, countering Benjamin, and immediately pulled off the Humilty Bomb. Three counts later, match is over... Ryan is declared the winner.
Here it is... living proof.
(He presses play, and we see the Revolution of subject. Benjamin hits Ryan with Yours Truly 2k3 out of nowhere. Exhausted, it takes him a moment to pull himself over Ryan to make a pin. Ryan, phenomenally, kicks out at the 2. Benjamin attempts to further wear his opponent down, and goes to the top rope. He comes off with an axe-handle smash, which is blocked in the very way Rocko described. Dan Ryan quickly goes for the Humility Bomb and wins the match. Rocko stops the tape.)
Rocko Daymon
This wasn't very different from Daymon/Benjamin, but you can obviously see some discrepancies. Major ones, in fact. First, I was never able to hit Adam Benjamin with the Brain Rocker Redux... and if I had, I would probably be sitting here now with the bragging rights. Benjamin, on the other hand, hit HIS opponent with his finisher... which Dan Ryan kicked out of.
Secondly, Ryan did not come back in a quick second, winning with a quick pinfall. What happened was that he took advantage of Benjamin's OBVIOUS mistake of going to the top rope. Then, he went for the Humilty Bomb... no roll-up, no bridge, just a powerbomb that rocked the entire arena and caused all the fans to jump out of their seats.
So... what's the point?
(He removes the tape, and holds both up for the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, here it is. In one hand, we have a speeding locomotive that's suddenly derailed by a pebble on the tracks... and in the other, an engine that runs out of steam, and gets blown away without a second's hesitation.
Now, let's think back to what Benjamin said. No, I'm not going to be playing THAT tape, cause if he can't remember his own words, then he's a dumbf*ck. What he said was that he implied that Ryan's win was merely a fluke... he goes on to brag about how he forced Ryan to give "everything he had", as if at any second Benjamin could have won that match.
Am I missing something, or are we confusing these two stories? Cause in the match Benjamin won out of simple luck, and perhaps by a mistake on my own part, he's saying that he outwrestled me in every way and proved himself to be the better man. However, in the match he LOST by his OWN mistake, via ass-whooping courteousy of Dan Ryan, he's saying that his opponent JUST NARROWLY squeaked by with a victory.
(He shakes his head in confusion.)
Rocko Daymon
Benjamin... the viewing audience, the Empire Pro talent, and myself would all like to ask that you GET YOUR F*CKING STORY STRAIGHT.
Hypocrisy is a disease, and you are an obvious carrier.
(He takes both tapes in one hand and swivels his chair to face Caitlyn.)
Rocko Daymon
Could you label these and put them in the library?
Caitlyn Daymon
Sure.
(Caitlyn receives both tapes.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Do you need anything else?
Rocko Daymon
No. Thanks, babe.
(With a smile, Caitlyn turns and exits the room. Rocko turns himself toward the camera again.)
Rocko Daymon
And now that we're finished getting this record straight... analyzing, remembering, discussing... we're going to talk about your will to become a World Champion the second time. And personally, I truly don't think you know what it MEANS to be a world champion. I once had SCW's heavy strap... Dan Ryan has his own records. I think between Ryan and myself, there's a good understanding of what it means to be the icon of a federation, to compete for the company and the fans for as much as yourself.
But you, Adam... you feel that just because you were an undefeated champion, somehow that gives you a little more *umph* in your reputation. First and foremost, I'm going to point out that you defended that title for only a few weeks before the fed closed. That ISN'T much time, Benjamin. In order to be hailed as a GREAT champion, you must reign for a GREAT time.
Want something for comparison?
(He reaches off camera and picks up a replica mold of the SCW World Title, awarded to him to commemorate his title reign.)
Rocko Daymon
As I said, I was the former World Champion of SCW... an established federation that had been around for years, mind you; not a fledgling like MCW. I held onto this belt for a good six months before I was beaten by Devon Jackson. Think of that, Benjamin... six months of defending this title. Six months, of fighting off challenger after challenger... all of them main event material. I got my ass kicked on every Showtime since the night I won that title, but I hung onto it... I wouldn't let it leave my grasp, until someone finally proved he wanted it a bit more after my six month reign.
But here's the catch... in spite of that six month reign, I STILL don't consider myself to have been a true World Champion. After I left, I was literally forgotten to have ever held onto the belt. I am not proud of what went on during that time, cause I felt I could have done more. If I was content, do you think I'd be back in this industry?
Tell me, Benji... explain to me, how YOUR case is SO much better. Draw me a diagram that shows why a fling in a small federation that lasted a couple weeks, which you adore as your greatest achievement ever, is that much better than a six month reign in Superior Championship Wrestling.
(He shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
I think you need to put your ego on hold and look at the facts, Benjamin. You may have beaten me before... but that doesn't make you better than me. Pat yourself on the back, but don't get comfortable. I have something to prove to you when we fight in the ring... something that's going amount to a LITTLE MORE than one second of luck.
Prepare to have your confidence shaken... cause while you see yourself at a fork in the road, I see you looking down a cliff. All it takes is a swift kick in the rear, by Dan Ryan or myself, to send you off the rock. Cause plain and simple, Benji... you need that chip taken off your shoulder, before you float so high you bump your head on the invisble ceiling that disallows you from becoming Rocko Daymon caliber...
(Rocko sets his title aside, and clears his throat. A quick break, then back into the flow of things.)
Rocko Daymon
Now... we speak about Dan Ryan. One promo, many words spoken... little meaning really brought across. The strange thing is, watching Dan Ryan speak reminded me of a book I read once as a kid. It was called, "The Whipping Boy" by Sid Fleischman. Long story short, a rich kid hires a street urchin, so every time he misbehaves, the physical punishment gets unleashed on a nother person.
Dan Ryan kind of reminds me of that rich kid, Prince Brat. Ryan acts like nothing more than an overgrown child strayed into the wilderness. He automatically feels that he is the most important person, and people should wait on him at every moment to suit his needs.
Newsflash, Ryan... certainly even YOU would realize that who you are in CSWA or GXW means NOTHING when you come into Empire Pro. You're in front of a different audience, and if you want the respect and the priviledges you feel you deserve, you gotta earn every minute of it. Even I understand that.
(He pauses for a beat.)
Rocko Daymon
It's pretty obvious that you don't take this match very seriously... otherwise, you'd be a bit more proficient in expressing your displeasure without resorting to trash talk. No, you're simply along for the ride... am I right? There isn't anything in your last promo that even IMPLIES you want this title. Instead, it's quite obvious that you're taking this tournament for granted.
Benjamin at least wants the belt... but there's something lacking in the both of you that convinces me that neither of you are cut out for this tournament. I've been sidelined for over a year... and now that I'm back, I'm ready to explode onto the scene, and accomplish something that will overshadow my previous achievements. I feel the Empire Pro World Title will do that for me.
Furthermore, I'm tired of the disappointments and let-downs that have plagued me since my return. I'm ready to put a stop to all of that, and come out and do what I intended! You two, on the other hand... I think the both of you are in need of being knocked off of your high horses. I intend to do that at Aggression. It's more than a game of proving myself... it's more than choosing your opponent... it's survival. I'm backed into a corner, and I'm going to lash out. You, Dan Ryan, and Adam Benjamin... will be humbled.
And good luck to the one who outlasts the other when the two of you are succumbed to my wrath...
(With a nod, we fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
Adam_Benjamin
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 313
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 45
(Fade into a giant bed in a hotel room. On the bed is a man lying face down while a female is straddled over his back giving him a neck massage, she jerks his neck up, left, right, down each time asking him if he feels pain. While this is going on a voice from the corner of the room is heard loudly)
Voice: Hey Camera man over here.
(The camera slowly moves away from this couple on the bed to the view of a man sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. At last it is Adam Benjamin smiling as he begins talking)
Benjamin: What you have just been forced to watch is nothing new to the wrestling world, no if fact is it a reenacted pathetic scene of Rocko’s life. But in this case the couple on the bed are professionals, and by the looks of it are good at their respective profession.
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: This is my time, this is my chance, this is the same as bullsh*t I try and sell anyone who will listen to me. That is what you should say Rocko, man you are like a broken record, depressing, pathetic, and darn right sad. Your career reminds me of the famous add that goes like this, clap on, clap off, I mean you just don’t seem to get that you are washed up. You are sitting here puffing out your chest as if you have done something even remotely in recent memory, yet in reality you have not done crap. The almighty peanuts in me sh*t have done more than you in recent memory. You know I am sitting here trying to think about the right thing to say to you and I simply can’t think of anything that will matter. I mean spoke the truth when I said I am better than you, and I have a victory over you to prove it. Now if you want to watch that match over and over and point out that you were moments away from beating me, yet I in a quick second slip out with the victory which of course is you pathetic way of diverting the truth of defeat by all means go right ahead. However since you have taken the time to break it down and find points in your favor, of which still do not have you better than me, however sit down RD and listen to the facts I am about to lay down.
(Adam clears his throat)
Benjamin: The Big bad wolf had me ready to give me his finisher, yet I being the new age technician did what is called a “counter” and reversed his deadly move and pinned his ass to the mat. You see Rocko I was prepared for your move, and at last I countered it. However at the same time the almighty wonder bat only was thinking of his move and not the simple fact that it could be at last reversed. Case in point you are not a complete wrestler, you are a one-dimensional hake living in the past and the denial of life’s fate that you are living in now. The dance has passed the Daymon’s house, and the new era is looking right at you, and what I see is something that simply will not wake up to reality. You want to talk about me only being a champion for a few months, well guess what it is not my fault that the fed closed, because if it were still open I would still be the champ, a belt that I know for sure you would never have taken off of me. However what I am going to do is take your sad dream of reaching the top and once again slap it in the face. I did it in GXW when you told the world that the tournament to face John Miller was your chance to return to greatness. But what happened is the same thing that will happen this week. The wind talker will once again come up short to the better man, or in this case the better men. So while you are talking talk with nothing to back it up with, I will take my win over you, and my skills in the ring and put another crack in the family of Rock and Cat… You know Rocko to sum this up in one hand you have Yours Truly a man that speaks and delivers, in the other you have yourself who speaks and well fails. Tell me something different and maybe I will take you seriously, until then go watch our match some more and think of something else to say to me that actually matter’s.
(Adam looks downward and then up to the camera)
Benjamin: Then there is the ego buster himself so filled with his own ego that he is taking this match as some sort of cakewalk. Well Dan I am not sure how RD will fare with you in this match, actually I am pretty much sure it will be you and I next week one on one. However I want you to realize that this week I am gunning straight at you, because let face it with you out of this tournament all I would be left with is RD, and I know what I can do against him. Now to talk about our match and you win over me I need to highlight the word fluke. You see I did prematurely call your win over me a fluke, however I will admit it now that it was a win over a good wrestler. I used the word fluke because deep down I know that I was close to victory, and in the end failed. But hey you can not win them all and losing to you only made me train harder, and motivate me more for success, you can learn a great deal with a set back. But you see now I have the match in my palm of my hands again, and Dan there is not a better way to one up you then eliminating you from this tournament. But hey unlike RD when I say something I tend to back it up in most cases, this week I am looking forward to taking the next step. See you soon Dan…
(Fade to black)
Voice: Hey Camera man over here.
(The camera slowly moves away from this couple on the bed to the view of a man sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. At last it is Adam Benjamin smiling as he begins talking)
Benjamin: What you have just been forced to watch is nothing new to the wrestling world, no if fact is it a reenacted pathetic scene of Rocko’s life. But in this case the couple on the bed are professionals, and by the looks of it are good at their respective profession.
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: This is my time, this is my chance, this is the same as bullsh*t I try and sell anyone who will listen to me. That is what you should say Rocko, man you are like a broken record, depressing, pathetic, and darn right sad. Your career reminds me of the famous add that goes like this, clap on, clap off, I mean you just don’t seem to get that you are washed up. You are sitting here puffing out your chest as if you have done something even remotely in recent memory, yet in reality you have not done crap. The almighty peanuts in me sh*t have done more than you in recent memory. You know I am sitting here trying to think about the right thing to say to you and I simply can’t think of anything that will matter. I mean spoke the truth when I said I am better than you, and I have a victory over you to prove it. Now if you want to watch that match over and over and point out that you were moments away from beating me, yet I in a quick second slip out with the victory which of course is you pathetic way of diverting the truth of defeat by all means go right ahead. However since you have taken the time to break it down and find points in your favor, of which still do not have you better than me, however sit down RD and listen to the facts I am about to lay down.
(Adam clears his throat)
Benjamin: The Big bad wolf had me ready to give me his finisher, yet I being the new age technician did what is called a “counter” and reversed his deadly move and pinned his ass to the mat. You see Rocko I was prepared for your move, and at last I countered it. However at the same time the almighty wonder bat only was thinking of his move and not the simple fact that it could be at last reversed. Case in point you are not a complete wrestler, you are a one-dimensional hake living in the past and the denial of life’s fate that you are living in now. The dance has passed the Daymon’s house, and the new era is looking right at you, and what I see is something that simply will not wake up to reality. You want to talk about me only being a champion for a few months, well guess what it is not my fault that the fed closed, because if it were still open I would still be the champ, a belt that I know for sure you would never have taken off of me. However what I am going to do is take your sad dream of reaching the top and once again slap it in the face. I did it in GXW when you told the world that the tournament to face John Miller was your chance to return to greatness. But what happened is the same thing that will happen this week. The wind talker will once again come up short to the better man, or in this case the better men. So while you are talking talk with nothing to back it up with, I will take my win over you, and my skills in the ring and put another crack in the family of Rock and Cat… You know Rocko to sum this up in one hand you have Yours Truly a man that speaks and delivers, in the other you have yourself who speaks and well fails. Tell me something different and maybe I will take you seriously, until then go watch our match some more and think of something else to say to me that actually matter’s.
(Adam looks downward and then up to the camera)
Benjamin: Then there is the ego buster himself so filled with his own ego that he is taking this match as some sort of cakewalk. Well Dan I am not sure how RD will fare with you in this match, actually I am pretty much sure it will be you and I next week one on one. However I want you to realize that this week I am gunning straight at you, because let face it with you out of this tournament all I would be left with is RD, and I know what I can do against him. Now to talk about our match and you win over me I need to highlight the word fluke. You see I did prematurely call your win over me a fluke, however I will admit it now that it was a win over a good wrestler. I used the word fluke because deep down I know that I was close to victory, and in the end failed. But hey you can not win them all and losing to you only made me train harder, and motivate me more for success, you can learn a great deal with a set back. But you see now I have the match in my palm of my hands again, and Dan there is not a better way to one up you then eliminating you from this tournament. But hey unlike RD when I say something I tend to back it up in most cases, this week I am looking forward to taking the next step. See you soon Dan…
(Fade to black)
SCENE BEGINS
(We fade into the energy-laden environment known as Ludwig's Fitness Center, a popular place in the Pacific Northwest where many have come in as nobodies and walked out as legends. We get a panning shot of the large gymnasium, peppered with several athletes pumping iron. In the life-sized ring on the far end of the room, two amateurs go head to head. As we pan over to the left, revealing more and more of the center's patrons, a conversation slowly comes over the audio. Eventually, Caitlyn Daymon comes into the frame, standing alongside a man who is known as the friend and former trainer of Rocko Daymon, Zack Tseng.)
Zack Tseng
...the rate he's going, I'd say he's better than he's ever been. But that's just his style, right? Always improving... always correcting mistakes.
Caitlyn Daymon
Yes, it's just that he needs to be a step ahead of the game.
Zack Tseng
Well, it's easier than you think... it's all in the head really. As long as he keeps his focus, he should...
(As we continue on to the left, their conversation is drowned out by heavy rhythmetic breathing. Finally, the camera comes to rest on Daymon himself, his back to the camera, shirtless, wearing gym shorts. His bare back, scarred in many areas where he has received intense punishment over the years, is glazed with sweat. He's down pull-ups on a bar grafted into the wall. A moment later, he ends, dropping onto his feet and taking a few breaths.)
(A slight zoom into a medium shot as he turns around toward the camera, and wears a confident smile.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, well... back for more? It seems as though somebody cannot keep their mouth shut.
(He picks up his towel and dries his face.)
Rocko Daymon
You know... I was jogging through the park the other day, and this funny thing happened. I was on this path, and... wow, I just saw the biggest pile of dog crap sitting there in the middle of the road. Now normally, I'da just ran by and not given it a second glance... but it just so happened that I saw this particular pile of dog crap AFTER I saw Adam Benjamin's last promo...
And you know, it's funny... because something just triggered in my head, like deja vu. Something about this fecal matter, lying there, covered in flies, in the middle of this road, reminded me of what Adam Benjamin said...
(His smile widens as he shrugs, settling the towel over his shoulders.)
Rocko Daymon
So you know what I did? Instead of running around this particular mound of sh*t, I ran right through it. And as my right foot quietly sank through those foul, revolting entrails, I became thrilled... ecstatic. And you know why?
Because, it made me think of all the more pleasurable it will be to see Adam Benjamin kissing the heel of my boot at Aggression... cleaning the sh*t out of my treads with his crooked mouth.
(He utters a *hmph* of delight, then his eyebrows perk up.)
Rocko Daymon
Better brush before you go into the ring, Adam...
Oh wait, I forgot... you're British. You guys never brush, am I right? Having bad teeth is to you guys like hairy armpits are for the French.
(He turns to the right, and the camera follows him as he approaches his wife and his former trainer. Zack acknowledges him with a nod.)
Rocko Daymon
So, next iota on my workout... sparring. Who do you have lined up for me?
Zack Tseng
This guy named Sid Crighton, a technical wrestlers out of Canada. His experience is three years.
Rocko Daymon
Sounds good...
(He turns to the camera, as if to explain himself.)
Rocko Daymon
You see, over the past week, while Benjamin has been playing with words and making a mockery of my life, while Dan Ryan has done practically nothing but laugh this match off and sit on his ass, I've been here, every day, busting my ass. Why? Because I'm a professional wrestler who grows after every match... who takes every loss as a personal message, which pushes him to continue his training, and to become a better competitor.
This week, considering I'm going against two different opponents of different styles--Benjamin being a technical expert and Ryan being a simple powerhouse--I've been going against a lot of local guys in a series of short sparring bouts to adjust my own style against my opponents'. It usually goes as two guys per day... always a different guy every time I go into the ring. First the power pusher, then the mat-technician.
And so far, I'm doing quite well. Against a guy like Dan Ryan, you can't do much in terms of strength, but through strategy and agility, doing anything that prevents him from getting the upper hand gives you a solid advantage. As for Adam Benjamin, we fought a close match not long ago, which he was lucky enough to get the win on. With that experience, along with the weekly training, I've developed numerous countermethods when going against the typical straight-laced technican.
(He turns to Zack for a moment, then back to the camera with a frown.)
Rocko Daymon
The question is, while I'm here, training against guys like Ryan and Benjamin... what are my opponents doing to prepare themselves against a guy like me? Exactly, how do you define my style?
Well obviously, considering Mr. Benjamin has that lucky win under his belt, he would see my wrestling techniques as "inferior", and that reason would be enough to explain why he shouldn't waste the time training. But as evidence clearly shows, it was a close match... determined by one second, as I have reiterated time and time again. If my style was "inferior" to Benjamin's, don't you think it would have been a little easier for him to get the upper hand?
But as we clearly saw that night, in GXW... Benjamin just barely got away.
(Zack Tseng nods.)
Zack Tseng
Fact of the matter is, Mr. Daymon, that your style is too many things at once. It's entirely unpredictable. And when it's unleashed on the offensive, it's catastrophic for whoever is in the path of destruction.
Rocko Daymon
Hence, the reason why Christian Sands has been sporting a bandage these past few days...
Zack Tseng
With all due respect to Mr. Benjamin, who I do admire for his excellence in technical wrestling... I don't see any ways that make his form of wrestling any superior to your own. In fact, I'd see it the other way around. While scientific wrestling has its benefits, its telegraphed in any way. An experienced eye can read the moves and strategy of a technical wrestler like the average man can read the newspaper.
(Rocko smiles, slinging an arm around his friend's neck.)
Rocko Daymon
Do you think five years is "experienced" enough, Mr. Tseng?
Zack Tseng
Yes, I'd say that five years is enough.
Rocko Daymon
Thought so...
(Rocko breaks away from Zack, and approaches the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
You see, one thing that Adam Benjamin fails to realize is that five years experience can go a long ways. I've seen a hundreds of professional wrestlers in my tenure. I've seen guys so straight-laced and technical, you'd think a simple shot to the jaw would send them crying to the referee, saying "that mean man hit me in the face; this match has to stop!" I've seen people who are SO STRIKINGLY FAMILIAR to the style, success, and personality of Adam Benjamin, I could have sworn I beat this same guy years ago.
But oh... Adam Benjamin is clinging onto the last shred of his hopeless ego, that pathetic Major Championship Wrestling title. Oddly enough, I don't hear the Crimson Calling bragging about how they were MCW's last Tag Team champions... but it's probably because those guys know they have enough talent to make their egos unnecessary.
But simply because Adam Benjamin held onto this ONE belt... for mere weeks, suddenly that makes all the difference. Suddenly, that PROVES he is the "greatest professional wrestler... EVER." Pay no attention to the bevy of bright, young flames that exploded onto the scene back on my hey dey, accomplishing things people though impossible for a lowly rookie, only to see them wink out and dissappear into forgotten memories after mere MONTHS. Never mind the so-called "one hit wonders" of professional wrestling, whose title reigns lasted through periods nearly as short as their careers.
Adam Benjamin won a belt... A belt. And suddenly, he's God's gift to wrestling.
(Rocko rolls his eyes.)
Rocko Daymon
At Aggression, I'm going to walk into A ring... I'm going to participate in A match... I'm going to walk over A egomaniacal snot-nosed rook and A legendary muscle-head. I'm going to win A title to add to my collection of DOZENS...
And then? I will be proclaimed THE Champion. I'm going to show, just by winning the World Championship, that Adam Benjamin is nowhere near as good as I am... or what I was, or what I will become. I intend to be the Champion... the first of Empire Pro wrestling, and the new icon of the industry itself.
All because I can... and quite frankly, I don't see much out of Adam Benjamin being champion for the second time in his career.
(He turns to his wife, Caitlyn.)
Rocko Daymon
Darling... when we watched Benjamin's last promo, he said something that sort of stuck, didn't he?
Caitlyn Daymon
Yes, he did.
Rocko Daymon
I told you to memorize exactly what he said. Tell me... what did he say.
(Clearing her throat, Caitlyn turns to the camera.)
Caitlyn Daymon
As Adam Benjamin himself said... "You want to talk about me only being a champion for a few months, well guess what it is not my fault that the fed closed, because if it were still open I would still be the champ, a belt that I know for sure you would never have taken off of me."
(She matches it perfectly, right down to the prissy British accent. Rocko nods, then turns back to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
I just hear that, and think...
I think of how funny it is, knowing he's wrong in every wat. I think of how foolish everybody involved in MCW was... to allow this guy to be the icon of the federation, and to hold onto that belt. I think... why couldn't I have just joined a month sooner, so I could have simply won MCW's tournament, became champion, thereby saving myself of having to listen to any of this...
(He shakes his head, his dark eyes piercing into the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
First and foremost, Benjamin... a World Title match has more on the line than the first round of a tournament. Unfortunately, I got careless for a single moment in our one and only meeting, and it allowed luck to fall on your side for a mere second. But if we had ever met in MCW, with that belt on the line... there would not have been even a moment where you could gain the opportunity. I would not have been as careless. I would have assuredly proven myself as the better professional wrestler, and would have walked out as the champion.
Second... I find it fascinating that you would say that you had nothing to do with MCW's closing.
For any World Champion... that's blasphemy. That's complete and utter disrespect for the federation, the fans, the talent, and the industry as a whole. You should really be ashamed of yourself, not having the balls to admit that you let MCW down...
(Rocko shakes his head again, obviously dismayed.)
Rocko Daymon
A World Champion is the icon of the federation he is the champion of. He is the figurehead... the leader. He is the cornerstone of everything the fed represents. Without him and his leadership, everything breaks apart.
Do you know why Major Championship Wrestling was closed? Simply put, ratings. People just suddenly became uninterested. The doors were closed, people lost jobs, and entire crates of unused merchandise were basically boarded up someplace in a warehouse, never to be seen again. As World Champion, it was YOUR DUTY, Adam Benjamin, to be the crown jewel of MCW. By holding onto that belt, it was YOUR RESPONSIBILITY to keep the fans coming back, keeping them satisfied... making them WANT to see more action. It was your task to make the people tune in, and buy the tickets, buy the posters and t-shirts, wait in line for autographs, and eat the damn hotdogs while they sat in the seats of the arena.
And you know what, Benjamin? You failed. You failed as the World Champion of Major Championship Wrestling, because you thought everything relied on winning and losing. You figured, "As long as nobody beats me, I must be a true world champion." Well that's where you were wrong. Being what you were meant a lot more than you can realize, but you were so self-centered, you forgot what truly mattered.
So yes, Benjamin... it IS your fault that MCW closed its doors. And I'll be damned if I sit by and watch you f*ck over another federation with your ego-centric views.
(Pausing for a moment, Rocko backs away from the camera to stand in between the other two.)
Rocko Daymon
You know... I don't think the public has a better opportunity to see how full of sh*t Adam Benjamin truly is. The man is a hypocrite who sees his luck as talent and his goals as righteous. It's hard to believe that THIS GUY wants to be champion... and it's damn near impossible to imagine that he could succeed at that task. I feel that I owe it to the fans to do everything in my power to see that he comes nowhere near the World Title.
The bottom line is that Adam Benjamin had his chance to show his stuff as a World Champion, and failed everybody involved... cause though he defeated his challengers and held onto the strap for a few weeks, he couldn't measure up to the expectations everybody had. As a result, the federation collapsed, having a weak champion and no rightful competition to claim the spot.
Adam... your fifteen minutes of fame are up, and you've shown the entire world that you didn't know how to use them effectively. It's time you stepped aside and left the spotlight to people who can bring good things to Empire Pro. Like me.
(He turns to his companions for a moment, a questionable look crossing his face.)
Rocko Daymon
And could anybody tell me where Dan Ryan ran off to? I was expecting some tough words from this guy after that last promo, but he's been hiding someplace, or something.
Caitlyn Daymon
He's probably just bogged down.
Rocko Daymon
Bogged down?
Caitlyn Daymon
Well, yeah. As we speak, he's probably preparing for his match against Mark Windham in GXW. Let's not forget that he's also working for CSWA and NFW. He's currently employed in four federations... and it's plausible that he doesn't have the time to focus on Empire Pro.
Rocko Daymon
Hm... in that case, being in so many federations would prove to be at his disadvantage. How can he expect to put all of his focus into this tournament? In my opinion, if you're not going to put 100% into Empire Pro, then you shouldn't be in the running for the World Title. As for myself, all of my focus and training is going into this match, and for the following matches I hope to go through in this tournament. That in itself sets me apart from Dan Ryan... cause while he is a man of many trades, I plan to establish myself as a man of ONLY Empire Pro.
Regardless of what Dan Ryan is or what he's done, I'm going to throw everything I've got at him, determined to survive this match and win the next. I've lost too many times to see myself follow a similar course... so for me, it's not just about a title. It's about proving something to my opponents, and even more important, gaining a victory... giving myself something to be proud of, to put fear into the hearts of my opponents.
(Into the frame walks a slender, athletic youth with blonde hair. Zack smiles upon his arrival, and speaks.)
Zack Tseng
Rocko, allow me to introduce you to Sid Crighton.
Rocko Daymon
Hi, Sid. Zack's told you the details, right?
Sid Crighton
Fifteen minutes in the ring, standard rules apply, no pins, submissions, or finishers.
Rocko Daymon
Good. Gear up, and we'll get started within the next few minutes.
Sid Crighton
Alright.
(Zack leads Daymon's sparring opponent away as Rocko turns to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, I have a training schedule to keep up with, so I'm going to have to cut this off here. As for Adam Benjamin and Dan Ryan... I certainly hope you guys are getting ready. I learned from my mistakes, and now, being a better judge today than I was weeks ago, I am purely confident that I'm going to survive this match and move on to the next round. No strategy... no favorites, cause I don't care who I fight in the second round. One of you goes down at Aggression, and the other follows suit the next week.
(He nods with confidence.)
Rocko Daymon
I'll see you guys in Pittsburg...
(With an about-face, Rocko turns from the camera and walks through the vast gymnasium, toward the ring, with his wife following him. From there we fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
(We fade into the energy-laden environment known as Ludwig's Fitness Center, a popular place in the Pacific Northwest where many have come in as nobodies and walked out as legends. We get a panning shot of the large gymnasium, peppered with several athletes pumping iron. In the life-sized ring on the far end of the room, two amateurs go head to head. As we pan over to the left, revealing more and more of the center's patrons, a conversation slowly comes over the audio. Eventually, Caitlyn Daymon comes into the frame, standing alongside a man who is known as the friend and former trainer of Rocko Daymon, Zack Tseng.)
Zack Tseng
...the rate he's going, I'd say he's better than he's ever been. But that's just his style, right? Always improving... always correcting mistakes.
Caitlyn Daymon
Yes, it's just that he needs to be a step ahead of the game.
Zack Tseng
Well, it's easier than you think... it's all in the head really. As long as he keeps his focus, he should...
(As we continue on to the left, their conversation is drowned out by heavy rhythmetic breathing. Finally, the camera comes to rest on Daymon himself, his back to the camera, shirtless, wearing gym shorts. His bare back, scarred in many areas where he has received intense punishment over the years, is glazed with sweat. He's down pull-ups on a bar grafted into the wall. A moment later, he ends, dropping onto his feet and taking a few breaths.)
(A slight zoom into a medium shot as he turns around toward the camera, and wears a confident smile.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, well... back for more? It seems as though somebody cannot keep their mouth shut.
(He picks up his towel and dries his face.)
Rocko Daymon
You know... I was jogging through the park the other day, and this funny thing happened. I was on this path, and... wow, I just saw the biggest pile of dog crap sitting there in the middle of the road. Now normally, I'da just ran by and not given it a second glance... but it just so happened that I saw this particular pile of dog crap AFTER I saw Adam Benjamin's last promo...
And you know, it's funny... because something just triggered in my head, like deja vu. Something about this fecal matter, lying there, covered in flies, in the middle of this road, reminded me of what Adam Benjamin said...
(His smile widens as he shrugs, settling the towel over his shoulders.)
Rocko Daymon
So you know what I did? Instead of running around this particular mound of sh*t, I ran right through it. And as my right foot quietly sank through those foul, revolting entrails, I became thrilled... ecstatic. And you know why?
Because, it made me think of all the more pleasurable it will be to see Adam Benjamin kissing the heel of my boot at Aggression... cleaning the sh*t out of my treads with his crooked mouth.
(He utters a *hmph* of delight, then his eyebrows perk up.)
Rocko Daymon
Better brush before you go into the ring, Adam...
Oh wait, I forgot... you're British. You guys never brush, am I right? Having bad teeth is to you guys like hairy armpits are for the French.
(He turns to the right, and the camera follows him as he approaches his wife and his former trainer. Zack acknowledges him with a nod.)
Rocko Daymon
So, next iota on my workout... sparring. Who do you have lined up for me?
Zack Tseng
This guy named Sid Crighton, a technical wrestlers out of Canada. His experience is three years.
Rocko Daymon
Sounds good...
(He turns to the camera, as if to explain himself.)
Rocko Daymon
You see, over the past week, while Benjamin has been playing with words and making a mockery of my life, while Dan Ryan has done practically nothing but laugh this match off and sit on his ass, I've been here, every day, busting my ass. Why? Because I'm a professional wrestler who grows after every match... who takes every loss as a personal message, which pushes him to continue his training, and to become a better competitor.
This week, considering I'm going against two different opponents of different styles--Benjamin being a technical expert and Ryan being a simple powerhouse--I've been going against a lot of local guys in a series of short sparring bouts to adjust my own style against my opponents'. It usually goes as two guys per day... always a different guy every time I go into the ring. First the power pusher, then the mat-technician.
And so far, I'm doing quite well. Against a guy like Dan Ryan, you can't do much in terms of strength, but through strategy and agility, doing anything that prevents him from getting the upper hand gives you a solid advantage. As for Adam Benjamin, we fought a close match not long ago, which he was lucky enough to get the win on. With that experience, along with the weekly training, I've developed numerous countermethods when going against the typical straight-laced technican.
(He turns to Zack for a moment, then back to the camera with a frown.)
Rocko Daymon
The question is, while I'm here, training against guys like Ryan and Benjamin... what are my opponents doing to prepare themselves against a guy like me? Exactly, how do you define my style?
Well obviously, considering Mr. Benjamin has that lucky win under his belt, he would see my wrestling techniques as "inferior", and that reason would be enough to explain why he shouldn't waste the time training. But as evidence clearly shows, it was a close match... determined by one second, as I have reiterated time and time again. If my style was "inferior" to Benjamin's, don't you think it would have been a little easier for him to get the upper hand?
But as we clearly saw that night, in GXW... Benjamin just barely got away.
(Zack Tseng nods.)
Zack Tseng
Fact of the matter is, Mr. Daymon, that your style is too many things at once. It's entirely unpredictable. And when it's unleashed on the offensive, it's catastrophic for whoever is in the path of destruction.
Rocko Daymon
Hence, the reason why Christian Sands has been sporting a bandage these past few days...
Zack Tseng
With all due respect to Mr. Benjamin, who I do admire for his excellence in technical wrestling... I don't see any ways that make his form of wrestling any superior to your own. In fact, I'd see it the other way around. While scientific wrestling has its benefits, its telegraphed in any way. An experienced eye can read the moves and strategy of a technical wrestler like the average man can read the newspaper.
(Rocko smiles, slinging an arm around his friend's neck.)
Rocko Daymon
Do you think five years is "experienced" enough, Mr. Tseng?
Zack Tseng
Yes, I'd say that five years is enough.
Rocko Daymon
Thought so...
(Rocko breaks away from Zack, and approaches the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
You see, one thing that Adam Benjamin fails to realize is that five years experience can go a long ways. I've seen a hundreds of professional wrestlers in my tenure. I've seen guys so straight-laced and technical, you'd think a simple shot to the jaw would send them crying to the referee, saying "that mean man hit me in the face; this match has to stop!" I've seen people who are SO STRIKINGLY FAMILIAR to the style, success, and personality of Adam Benjamin, I could have sworn I beat this same guy years ago.
But oh... Adam Benjamin is clinging onto the last shred of his hopeless ego, that pathetic Major Championship Wrestling title. Oddly enough, I don't hear the Crimson Calling bragging about how they were MCW's last Tag Team champions... but it's probably because those guys know they have enough talent to make their egos unnecessary.
But simply because Adam Benjamin held onto this ONE belt... for mere weeks, suddenly that makes all the difference. Suddenly, that PROVES he is the "greatest professional wrestler... EVER." Pay no attention to the bevy of bright, young flames that exploded onto the scene back on my hey dey, accomplishing things people though impossible for a lowly rookie, only to see them wink out and dissappear into forgotten memories after mere MONTHS. Never mind the so-called "one hit wonders" of professional wrestling, whose title reigns lasted through periods nearly as short as their careers.
Adam Benjamin won a belt... A belt. And suddenly, he's God's gift to wrestling.
(Rocko rolls his eyes.)
Rocko Daymon
At Aggression, I'm going to walk into A ring... I'm going to participate in A match... I'm going to walk over A egomaniacal snot-nosed rook and A legendary muscle-head. I'm going to win A title to add to my collection of DOZENS...
And then? I will be proclaimed THE Champion. I'm going to show, just by winning the World Championship, that Adam Benjamin is nowhere near as good as I am... or what I was, or what I will become. I intend to be the Champion... the first of Empire Pro wrestling, and the new icon of the industry itself.
All because I can... and quite frankly, I don't see much out of Adam Benjamin being champion for the second time in his career.
(He turns to his wife, Caitlyn.)
Rocko Daymon
Darling... when we watched Benjamin's last promo, he said something that sort of stuck, didn't he?
Caitlyn Daymon
Yes, he did.
Rocko Daymon
I told you to memorize exactly what he said. Tell me... what did he say.
(Clearing her throat, Caitlyn turns to the camera.)
Caitlyn Daymon
As Adam Benjamin himself said... "You want to talk about me only being a champion for a few months, well guess what it is not my fault that the fed closed, because if it were still open I would still be the champ, a belt that I know for sure you would never have taken off of me."
(She matches it perfectly, right down to the prissy British accent. Rocko nods, then turns back to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
I just hear that, and think...
I think of how funny it is, knowing he's wrong in every wat. I think of how foolish everybody involved in MCW was... to allow this guy to be the icon of the federation, and to hold onto that belt. I think... why couldn't I have just joined a month sooner, so I could have simply won MCW's tournament, became champion, thereby saving myself of having to listen to any of this...
(He shakes his head, his dark eyes piercing into the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
First and foremost, Benjamin... a World Title match has more on the line than the first round of a tournament. Unfortunately, I got careless for a single moment in our one and only meeting, and it allowed luck to fall on your side for a mere second. But if we had ever met in MCW, with that belt on the line... there would not have been even a moment where you could gain the opportunity. I would not have been as careless. I would have assuredly proven myself as the better professional wrestler, and would have walked out as the champion.
Second... I find it fascinating that you would say that you had nothing to do with MCW's closing.
For any World Champion... that's blasphemy. That's complete and utter disrespect for the federation, the fans, the talent, and the industry as a whole. You should really be ashamed of yourself, not having the balls to admit that you let MCW down...
(Rocko shakes his head again, obviously dismayed.)
Rocko Daymon
A World Champion is the icon of the federation he is the champion of. He is the figurehead... the leader. He is the cornerstone of everything the fed represents. Without him and his leadership, everything breaks apart.
Do you know why Major Championship Wrestling was closed? Simply put, ratings. People just suddenly became uninterested. The doors were closed, people lost jobs, and entire crates of unused merchandise were basically boarded up someplace in a warehouse, never to be seen again. As World Champion, it was YOUR DUTY, Adam Benjamin, to be the crown jewel of MCW. By holding onto that belt, it was YOUR RESPONSIBILITY to keep the fans coming back, keeping them satisfied... making them WANT to see more action. It was your task to make the people tune in, and buy the tickets, buy the posters and t-shirts, wait in line for autographs, and eat the damn hotdogs while they sat in the seats of the arena.
And you know what, Benjamin? You failed. You failed as the World Champion of Major Championship Wrestling, because you thought everything relied on winning and losing. You figured, "As long as nobody beats me, I must be a true world champion." Well that's where you were wrong. Being what you were meant a lot more than you can realize, but you were so self-centered, you forgot what truly mattered.
So yes, Benjamin... it IS your fault that MCW closed its doors. And I'll be damned if I sit by and watch you f*ck over another federation with your ego-centric views.
(Pausing for a moment, Rocko backs away from the camera to stand in between the other two.)
Rocko Daymon
You know... I don't think the public has a better opportunity to see how full of sh*t Adam Benjamin truly is. The man is a hypocrite who sees his luck as talent and his goals as righteous. It's hard to believe that THIS GUY wants to be champion... and it's damn near impossible to imagine that he could succeed at that task. I feel that I owe it to the fans to do everything in my power to see that he comes nowhere near the World Title.
The bottom line is that Adam Benjamin had his chance to show his stuff as a World Champion, and failed everybody involved... cause though he defeated his challengers and held onto the strap for a few weeks, he couldn't measure up to the expectations everybody had. As a result, the federation collapsed, having a weak champion and no rightful competition to claim the spot.
Adam... your fifteen minutes of fame are up, and you've shown the entire world that you didn't know how to use them effectively. It's time you stepped aside and left the spotlight to people who can bring good things to Empire Pro. Like me.
(He turns to his companions for a moment, a questionable look crossing his face.)
Rocko Daymon
And could anybody tell me where Dan Ryan ran off to? I was expecting some tough words from this guy after that last promo, but he's been hiding someplace, or something.
Caitlyn Daymon
He's probably just bogged down.
Rocko Daymon
Bogged down?
Caitlyn Daymon
Well, yeah. As we speak, he's probably preparing for his match against Mark Windham in GXW. Let's not forget that he's also working for CSWA and NFW. He's currently employed in four federations... and it's plausible that he doesn't have the time to focus on Empire Pro.
Rocko Daymon
Hm... in that case, being in so many federations would prove to be at his disadvantage. How can he expect to put all of his focus into this tournament? In my opinion, if you're not going to put 100% into Empire Pro, then you shouldn't be in the running for the World Title. As for myself, all of my focus and training is going into this match, and for the following matches I hope to go through in this tournament. That in itself sets me apart from Dan Ryan... cause while he is a man of many trades, I plan to establish myself as a man of ONLY Empire Pro.
Regardless of what Dan Ryan is or what he's done, I'm going to throw everything I've got at him, determined to survive this match and win the next. I've lost too many times to see myself follow a similar course... so for me, it's not just about a title. It's about proving something to my opponents, and even more important, gaining a victory... giving myself something to be proud of, to put fear into the hearts of my opponents.
(Into the frame walks a slender, athletic youth with blonde hair. Zack smiles upon his arrival, and speaks.)
Zack Tseng
Rocko, allow me to introduce you to Sid Crighton.
Rocko Daymon
Hi, Sid. Zack's told you the details, right?
Sid Crighton
Fifteen minutes in the ring, standard rules apply, no pins, submissions, or finishers.
Rocko Daymon
Good. Gear up, and we'll get started within the next few minutes.
Sid Crighton
Alright.
(Zack leads Daymon's sparring opponent away as Rocko turns to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Well, I have a training schedule to keep up with, so I'm going to have to cut this off here. As for Adam Benjamin and Dan Ryan... I certainly hope you guys are getting ready. I learned from my mistakes, and now, being a better judge today than I was weeks ago, I am purely confident that I'm going to survive this match and move on to the next round. No strategy... no favorites, cause I don't care who I fight in the second round. One of you goes down at Aggression, and the other follows suit the next week.
(He nods with confidence.)
Rocko Daymon
I'll see you guys in Pittsburg...
(With an about-face, Rocko turns from the camera and walks through the vast gymnasium, toward the ring, with his wife following him. From there we fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
Adam_Benjamin
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 313
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 45
(As the camera fades in “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin is seen standing in front of EPW backdrop. Adam is seen wearing a black to shirt the worlds still not noticeable to the cameras view. As he stands there he is flipping a coin up in the air catching it and flipping it again smiling towards the camera as he begins.)
Benjamin: Flip goes the coin, heads I pin Daymon, tails I pin Ryan….
(Coin goes into the air; Adam catches it and smiles at the result)
Benjamin: What did you think I would let the cat out of the bag? No that would be bad build up, or bad ratings right Rocko?
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: RD it’s funny hearing a former champion lower himself to stepping in dog matter to explain a point. But hey whatever floats your boat. For you see in today’s promo I am not going to step into poo, or lay in pee, or even lower myself as far as kissing that frog of a wife of yours, no I am again going to talk facts, not as I see, but more as the world does except for you of course. So Again pull up a chair RD tell the wife to break out the court stenographer gear and take the proper notes.
(Adam looks at his t shirt and reads the message)
Benjamin: Check out this shirt I am sure it will sell. It says “Rocko Daymon 24-7”, that is your name, how cool. And on the back it says “The little engine that couldn’t”. Yes this shirt sums you up real well RD. Ok so about your last promo first off there is your trainer and your wife, my god leave the ***** at home. You know I have a girlfriend, yeah I do and she works for a law firm in New York, and she loves me and I love her. But guess what you know that because I told you, not because she is up my ass and in my promo’s. But hey I am drifting away from my points, sort of like a Rocko Daymon promo; oh did I say that out loud…
(Adam laughs)
Benjamin: Ok your trainer says something about you always improving, always correcting mistakes? Hello am I on the same planet, is this earth? My that guy is on some good meds, I mean wow what can I say about that except what are you fixing, you sucked, you say you don’t, you then tell everyone you will be better, and you fail again, tell me what he is own because my dear man we should bottle it and sell it on the black market as a new age hero pill.
(Adam laughs again)
Benjamin: Man you are making me laugh but I will continue there is so much more to talk about. You take a shot at me being British that is classic, the hole teeth and toothbrush joke, wow simply wow. I would make fun of you being American but why should I put down a entire nation for your sad pathetic life, they suffer enough knowing you are one of them.
(Adam stops real quickly)
Benjamin: I forgot the Benji fact of the day. Ok Yours Truly knows that there are twenty-four hours in a day! Now of course I do, but do you RD? I mean my promo’s last about I don’t know ten minutes top, however because I don’t do my promo during my workout, to you that gives you right to say I am not training. No you see I sometimes train and then do a promo, but hey sometimes I simple rather stand wearing a pair of jeans rather then be seen standing with my balls dripping wet from my workout. But hey you are training against so stiff comp so who am I to talk.
(Adam raises his hands in a question motion.)
Benjamin: Now as far as Yours Truly opinion of your wrestling abilities well I really think you are not as good as me. For all you have done, I have done it is half the time. And when we faced one on one I was the man standing with my hand held high, while you were left looking at Cat with that “almost” look on your face. Hey ask your trainer why fives years of wrestling still left you open for a reversal of you finishing maneuver?
(Adam laughs as he continues)
Benjamin: RD as far as MCW goes it is dead because the matches leading up to Yours Truly involved you and your wife sad build up. MCW failed because it did not market and expand and bring in some new blood that would make the roster looks stronger than its FAB 3. Yeah myself, Sands, and Brown carried the company on our backs, and you know what MCW died. But at last it was not my fault, and by god I know you would have never even came close to beating for that title. But hell that is a dead issue, lets talk about this week and your next great chance to stamp your self an icon or a legend. I have said it before and I will say it again you are not better than me, nor are you close to being. Sure you were a champion, but so was I and I did it in shorter time. Five years from now I will not be on my knee’s looking down and saying what have I done wrong, or man I was close. No in five year I will still be dominating everyone that steps up to the plate.
(Adam shakes his head)
Benjamin: In closing RD look at yourself and think before you talk. I am the hype, your are the depression. You call me a joke and tell me my ten 15 minutes of fame is over? Step out of the spotlight and let someone like yourself try and carry this company? I would rather sleep with your wife with Dan Ryan’s unit than do allow that. But hey I make you a deal this week you get a chance to toss me from that spotlight, so put your money were your mouth is and back something you say up for once.
(Adam starts to walk away, and stops and pulls out a piece of paper and holds it up shaking his head from the result of the message. The camera fades out the following message)
"Dan Ryan forget the hype"
Fade to black
Benjamin: Flip goes the coin, heads I pin Daymon, tails I pin Ryan….
(Coin goes into the air; Adam catches it and smiles at the result)
Benjamin: What did you think I would let the cat out of the bag? No that would be bad build up, or bad ratings right Rocko?
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: RD it’s funny hearing a former champion lower himself to stepping in dog matter to explain a point. But hey whatever floats your boat. For you see in today’s promo I am not going to step into poo, or lay in pee, or even lower myself as far as kissing that frog of a wife of yours, no I am again going to talk facts, not as I see, but more as the world does except for you of course. So Again pull up a chair RD tell the wife to break out the court stenographer gear and take the proper notes.
(Adam looks at his t shirt and reads the message)
Benjamin: Check out this shirt I am sure it will sell. It says “Rocko Daymon 24-7”, that is your name, how cool. And on the back it says “The little engine that couldn’t”. Yes this shirt sums you up real well RD. Ok so about your last promo first off there is your trainer and your wife, my god leave the ***** at home. You know I have a girlfriend, yeah I do and she works for a law firm in New York, and she loves me and I love her. But guess what you know that because I told you, not because she is up my ass and in my promo’s. But hey I am drifting away from my points, sort of like a Rocko Daymon promo; oh did I say that out loud…
(Adam laughs)
Benjamin: Ok your trainer says something about you always improving, always correcting mistakes? Hello am I on the same planet, is this earth? My that guy is on some good meds, I mean wow what can I say about that except what are you fixing, you sucked, you say you don’t, you then tell everyone you will be better, and you fail again, tell me what he is own because my dear man we should bottle it and sell it on the black market as a new age hero pill.
(Adam laughs again)
Benjamin: Man you are making me laugh but I will continue there is so much more to talk about. You take a shot at me being British that is classic, the hole teeth and toothbrush joke, wow simply wow. I would make fun of you being American but why should I put down a entire nation for your sad pathetic life, they suffer enough knowing you are one of them.
(Adam stops real quickly)
Benjamin: I forgot the Benji fact of the day. Ok Yours Truly knows that there are twenty-four hours in a day! Now of course I do, but do you RD? I mean my promo’s last about I don’t know ten minutes top, however because I don’t do my promo during my workout, to you that gives you right to say I am not training. No you see I sometimes train and then do a promo, but hey sometimes I simple rather stand wearing a pair of jeans rather then be seen standing with my balls dripping wet from my workout. But hey you are training against so stiff comp so who am I to talk.
(Adam raises his hands in a question motion.)
Benjamin: Now as far as Yours Truly opinion of your wrestling abilities well I really think you are not as good as me. For all you have done, I have done it is half the time. And when we faced one on one I was the man standing with my hand held high, while you were left looking at Cat with that “almost” look on your face. Hey ask your trainer why fives years of wrestling still left you open for a reversal of you finishing maneuver?
(Adam laughs as he continues)
Benjamin: RD as far as MCW goes it is dead because the matches leading up to Yours Truly involved you and your wife sad build up. MCW failed because it did not market and expand and bring in some new blood that would make the roster looks stronger than its FAB 3. Yeah myself, Sands, and Brown carried the company on our backs, and you know what MCW died. But at last it was not my fault, and by god I know you would have never even came close to beating for that title. But hell that is a dead issue, lets talk about this week and your next great chance to stamp your self an icon or a legend. I have said it before and I will say it again you are not better than me, nor are you close to being. Sure you were a champion, but so was I and I did it in shorter time. Five years from now I will not be on my knee’s looking down and saying what have I done wrong, or man I was close. No in five year I will still be dominating everyone that steps up to the plate.
(Adam shakes his head)
Benjamin: In closing RD look at yourself and think before you talk. I am the hype, your are the depression. You call me a joke and tell me my ten 15 minutes of fame is over? Step out of the spotlight and let someone like yourself try and carry this company? I would rather sleep with your wife with Dan Ryan’s unit than do allow that. But hey I make you a deal this week you get a chance to toss me from that spotlight, so put your money were your mouth is and back something you say up for once.
(Adam starts to walk away, and stops and pulls out a piece of paper and holds it up shaking his head from the result of the message. The camera fades out the following message)
"Dan Ryan forget the hype"
Fade to black
God's first mistake was hell.
SCENE BEGINS
From where he crouched at the king's feet,
Unferth, a son of Ecglaf's, spoke
contrary words. Beowulf coming,
his sea-braving, made him sick with envy:
he could not brook or abide the fact
that anyone else alive under heaven
might enjoy greater regard than he did:
"Are you Beowulf who took on Breca
in a swimming match on the open sea,
risking the water just to prove that you could win?
It was sheer vanity made you venture out
on the main deep. And no matter who tried,
friend or foe, to deflect the pair of you,
neither would back down: the sea-test obsessed you.
You waded in, embracing water,
taking its measure, mastering currents,
riding on the swell. The ocean swayed,
winter went wild in the waves, but you vied
for seven nights; and then he outswam you,
came ashore the stronger contendor.
He was cast up safe and sound one morning
among the Heatho-Reams, then made his way
to where he belonged in Bronding country,
home again, sure of his ground
in strongroom and bawn. So Breca made good
his boast upon you and was proved right.
No matter, therefore, how you may have fared
in every bout and battle until now,
this time you'll be worsted; no one has ever
outlasted an entire night against Grendel."
Beowulf, Ecgtheow's son, replied:
"Well, friend Unferth, you have had your say
about Breca and me. But it was mostly beer
that was doing the talking. The truth is this:
when the going was heavy in those high waves,
I was the strongest swimmer of all.
We'd been children together and we grew up
daring ourselves to outdo each other,
boasting and urging each other to risk
our lives on the sea. And so it turned out.
Each of us swam holding a sword,
a naked, hard-proofed blade for protection
against the whale-beasts. But Breca could never
move out farther or faster from me
than I could manage to move from him.
Shoulder to shoulder, we struggled on
for five nights, until the long flow
and pitch of the waves, the perishing cold,
night falling and winds from the north
drove us apart. The deep boiled up
and its wallowing sent the sea-brutes wild.
My armor helped me to hold out;
my hard-ringed chain-mail, hand-forged and linked,
a fine, close-fitting filigree of gold,
kept me safe when some ocean creature
pulled me to the bottom. Pinioned fast
and swatched in its grip, I was granted one
final chance: my sword plunged
and the ordeal was over. Through my own hands,
the fury of battle had finished off the sea-beast.
"Time and again, fould things attacked me,
lurking and stalking, but I lashed out,
gave as good as I got with my sword.
My flesh was not feasting on,
there would be no monsters gnawing and gloating
over their banquet at the bottom of the sea.
Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping
the sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated
like the ocean's leavings. From now on
sailors would be safe, the deep-sea raids
were over for good. Light came from the east,
bright guaruntee of God, and the waves
went quiet; I could see headlands
and buffeted cliffs. Often, for undaunted courage,
fate spares the man it has not already marked.
However it occurred, my sword had killed
nine sea-monsters. Such night dangers
and hard ordeals I have never heard of
nor of a man more desolate in surging waves.
Bur worn out as I was, I survived,
came through with my life. The ocean lifted
and laid me ashore, I landed safe
on the coast of Finland.
"Now I cannot recall
any fight you entered, Unferth,
that bears comparison. I don't boast when I say
that neither you nor Breca were ever much
celebrated for swordsmanship
or for facing danger on the field of battle.
You killed your own kith and kin,
so for all your cleverness and quick tongue,
you will suffer damnation in the depths of hell.
The fact is, Unferth, if you were truly
as keen or courageous as you claim to be
Grendel would never have got away with
such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king,
havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.
But he knows he need never be in dread
of your blade making a mizzle of his blood
or of vengeance arriving ever from this quarter—
from the Victory-Shieldings, the shoulderers of the spear.
He knows he can trample down you Danes
To his heart’s content, humiliate and murder
Without fear of reprisal. But he will find me different.
I will show him how Geats shape to kill
In the heat of battle. Then whoever wants to
May go bravely to mead, when the morning light,
Scarfed in the sun-dazzle, shines forth from the south
And brings another daybreak to the world.”
(Fade to a shot of a pair of hands holding a blue hardcover book, closing the tome. We zoom out, and get the picture of Rocko Daymon standing next to a bookcase in what must be his home office.)
Rocko Daymon
Ahh… Beowulf. You truly have to appreciate the great British masterpieces written through the past couple millennia. They were truly great writers…
(He looks up to the camera with a smirk.)
Rocko Daymon
Not the best speakers or wrestlers you could find in the world, but definitely the leaders in literature, in my opinion.
(He turns to the bookcase and inserts the hardcover copy of The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume 1 into the top shelf, then turns back to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
I sort of recalled that passage from the story after thinking about what has happened over the weekend. Here, Heorot is plagued by this horrible monster, losing friends and soldiers ever night as he raids the mead hall. Then Beowulf sails over, looking to challenge and slay this beast, and everybody’s happy. Almost everybody, that is… one guy, Unferth, sits there and mutters under his breath because he is jealous. He wishes he could have that sort of fame and popularity. But, alas… poor Unferth is a f*ck-off. He’s all talk and no action.
Obviously… you could see the parallels between this Unferth, and my much “esteemed” opponent, Adam Benjamin. Two guys who look at themselves, and automatically feel as though they deserve everything. In Benjamin’s case, he thinks a belt from a defunct fed he couldn’t save and a chance victory of yours truly—him, not me—is reason enough to feel he is entirely capable of being Empire Pro’s first World Champion.
And maybe in MCW, he was at the top of the game… but he’s in Empire Pro, with a LOT of long-time veterans and titans of the professional wrestling world, me included. Things are different now… and Benjamin’s success is simple a flash in the annals of history. We’re involved in an entirely different situation… first round of a tournament, three-way match, first man pinned gets eliminated. Not MCW, not GXW… Empire Pro, where ESTABLISHED names like Sands, Ryan, Beast, and Daymon intend to succeed.
(The sound of the door opening can be heard, and Rocko’s attention is diverted. Stepping into the frame is his wife and manager, Caitlyn Daymon.)
Rocko Daymon
What’s up, babe?
Cailtyn Daymon
Zack is on the phone.
(She looks into the camera for a moment.)
Caitlyn Daymon
But I’m sure he wasn’t aware that you were busy, so I’ll tell him that you’ll call him when you’re finished here.
Rocko Daymon
Thanks.
(With a nod, she turns and leaves the room.)
Rocko Daymon
Zack is probably calling about how he can get some plane tickets to Pittsburg, and if he can get the hookup with seats for Aggression. And you can bet I want him front row and center when he sees how the young kid he met on the street five years ago has grown into the living wrestling legend he is today. I want him to have the closest seat in the house, when I go full-throttle on Adam Benjamin and Dan Ryan, and establish myself as one of the main contenders for the Empire Pro World Title.
(Rocko turns toward his desk, near the bookcase, and falls into the swiveled chair.)
Rocko Daymon
It was about an hour from now when I returned from the gym and watched Adam Benjamin’s last promo. And out of all honesty, I’m still trying to figure out what it was that I just saw. Certainly, that mess of unorganized points and topics stringed together with a clusterf*ck of intangible sentences wasn’t the work of a man who knows he has any hope of winning the title. I was, in fact, quite tempted to call Paul Freeman to ask if Benji is currently on any medication, or if he simply has a natural brain defect that causes his brain to overheat when it undergoes periods of intense stress—the week leading up to an important match where he knows he will be outwrestled, for example.
I’m no psychologist, but I’ve seen it happen many times before. Opponents suddenly become unsure of themselves, because they’re faced with the brutal truth. As a result, they go completely haywire. They laugh off everything, as if it was their confidence speaking, and deliver poorly conducted and disorganized promos, similar to what I saw not long ago from Mr. Benjamin.
The only cure is humility… and humility can only be gained through defeat. Perhaps I’ll do him a favor and eliminate him in this first round, and perhaps I won’t have to suffer a second “meltdown of the ego.”
(He shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
I ask, can anybody take this guy seriously anymore? Can anybody SERIOUSLY watch that last promo, and say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Benjamin has his sh*t together and he will almost certainly be Empire Pro’s first champion? I thought the flip of the coin was a nice touch, but damn… everything following that just went down the crapper. The idiot actually MADE A T-SHIRT for the occasion!
It was so bad, that I don’t even know where to start. I had to take notes, for chrissakes…
(He picks up a pad of paper resting on his desk, and looks at it.)
Rocko Daymon
This here is essentially the run-down of disjointed and unconnected points that was Adam Benjamin’s promo…
- Dog crap and frog wife…
- Girlfriend in New York…
- Pill-pushing and improvement…
- The “hole” teeth and toothbrush bit…
- Not working out while training…
- Is better and has done more…
- MCW is STILL not his fault…
- Something that MIGHT have been a closing statement.
(Clearing his throat, Rocko sets the notepad aside.)
Rocko Daymon
If that didn’t sound ridiculous enough, what would you say if I told you that that was only scratching the surface? This summary sounds stupid by itself, but sitting through the entire promo is an entirely HORRIFYING experience. What Benjamin basically did was he took the phrase, “You suck, and I am much better than you,” and extended it into ten minutes of outright torture. Nowhere in his promo does he present reasons why, or make a valid argument. He sits there and acts like a five-year-old trying to present himself as an adult in front of a viewing audience. It’s completely disgusting, that the federation should waste the time, money, and effort into putting him on the air when he does nothing but make an ass out of himself and a joke out of Empire Pro.
I’m not even going to try to present a rebuttal to the accusations he threw at me in his latest promo. Unlike him, I try to present myself in a mature fashion. You better believe when I cut a promo, there’s bound to be a POINT to it. It’s hard to believe that weeks ago, when Benjamin and I were booked to team against Brown and Sands, this same man PRAISED me for the phenomenal talent and motivation I presented during our one and only match
Benjamin has done nothing but talk sh*t all week. But I am different in the ways I have SHOWN this federation the truth, where I stand. I played the match for the people, Benjamin vs. Daymon, to show them that he came nowhere near to “kicking my ass”; his success was ENTIRELY based on luck. I have shown that I have dedicated every minute of this week toward this match, in preparation and promotion. Benjamin, on the other hand, has done nothing but talk. He’s talked about how great he is and how I’m so much worse than him. My question is, where’s the proof? What has HE to show?
(He pauses for a beat, allowing the viewer to figure that out on his or her own.)
Rocko Daymon
My goal through making my promos this week was not to say I am better than Adam Benjamin, or prove that in any way. I intend to do that in the ring. The point of my recurring appearances is that I’m telling everybody, from my opponents to the fans, that I am going to do everything I can to pass through this match, and become Empire Pro’s first champion. I think my recent performance has shown that I’m fully able to keep up with the talent around this federation… and though I’ve suffered numerous last-second letdowns, my wrestling clearly speaks for itself. Christian Sands did not carry me through the entire match when we met last weak. Similarly, Adam Benjamin did not prove himself to be superior in any way to me when we met in GXW. With that said, I feel that with the proper motivation, I can easily win this tournament.
But Benjamin talks to me as if I was a lowly stranger on the street who cut him off. Here he talks about how he is better than me, and I will never be as good as him… as well as how in the short time he’s been wrestling, he’s accomplished twice as much as me. Am I sensing a certain level of bullsh*t here? I think Benjamin’s recent flash-in-the-pan success has gone to his head, cause now he’s just speaking psychobabble.
(He clears his throat, then edges near the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Adam… let me speak to you directly. If you truly ARE that much better than I am, then maybe you could explain a few things for me. First, explain why at Aggression, just by gazing into the audience, you could see a myriad of Rocko Daymon signs, shirts, and posters… and almost nothing related to “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin. Explain why your match against Killjoy Tommy Mayhem was set BELOW my own against Christian Sands, serving as nothing more than a warm-up for the later competitions. Explain why Jake Morgan rated my match higher than yours.
Cause by looking at things… it’s quite obvious that the fans, the talent, and the staff of Empire Pro consider ME to be the more talented and extravagant wrestler, between the two of us. So my advice to you, Adam, is to THINK before you start speaking trash, cause nobody else is familiar with the divine sign that gave you your sort of confidence. All I’ve got to say is this, Adam: You think you’re big and bad…?
Then prove it, f*ck-wad.
(Confident nod.)
Rocko Daymon
And I’m not about to forget about Dan Ryan. We haven’t heard much out of you this week, bud. But I’m sure that’s expected, when a guy like you is involved in so many federations. But you do what you gotta do, and either way, I expect to see you in the ring, and put forth a decent challenge. But understand that I’m going to be giving it my all, and if you aren’t prepared to do the same, then don’t expect to get far in this tournament.
With that said, I’m out.
(With a nod, Daymon stands from his chair and walks out of the frame. We fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
From where he crouched at the king's feet,
Unferth, a son of Ecglaf's, spoke
contrary words. Beowulf coming,
his sea-braving, made him sick with envy:
he could not brook or abide the fact
that anyone else alive under heaven
might enjoy greater regard than he did:
"Are you Beowulf who took on Breca
in a swimming match on the open sea,
risking the water just to prove that you could win?
It was sheer vanity made you venture out
on the main deep. And no matter who tried,
friend or foe, to deflect the pair of you,
neither would back down: the sea-test obsessed you.
You waded in, embracing water,
taking its measure, mastering currents,
riding on the swell. The ocean swayed,
winter went wild in the waves, but you vied
for seven nights; and then he outswam you,
came ashore the stronger contendor.
He was cast up safe and sound one morning
among the Heatho-Reams, then made his way
to where he belonged in Bronding country,
home again, sure of his ground
in strongroom and bawn. So Breca made good
his boast upon you and was proved right.
No matter, therefore, how you may have fared
in every bout and battle until now,
this time you'll be worsted; no one has ever
outlasted an entire night against Grendel."
Beowulf, Ecgtheow's son, replied:
"Well, friend Unferth, you have had your say
about Breca and me. But it was mostly beer
that was doing the talking. The truth is this:
when the going was heavy in those high waves,
I was the strongest swimmer of all.
We'd been children together and we grew up
daring ourselves to outdo each other,
boasting and urging each other to risk
our lives on the sea. And so it turned out.
Each of us swam holding a sword,
a naked, hard-proofed blade for protection
against the whale-beasts. But Breca could never
move out farther or faster from me
than I could manage to move from him.
Shoulder to shoulder, we struggled on
for five nights, until the long flow
and pitch of the waves, the perishing cold,
night falling and winds from the north
drove us apart. The deep boiled up
and its wallowing sent the sea-brutes wild.
My armor helped me to hold out;
my hard-ringed chain-mail, hand-forged and linked,
a fine, close-fitting filigree of gold,
kept me safe when some ocean creature
pulled me to the bottom. Pinioned fast
and swatched in its grip, I was granted one
final chance: my sword plunged
and the ordeal was over. Through my own hands,
the fury of battle had finished off the sea-beast.
"Time and again, fould things attacked me,
lurking and stalking, but I lashed out,
gave as good as I got with my sword.
My flesh was not feasting on,
there would be no monsters gnawing and gloating
over their banquet at the bottom of the sea.
Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping
the sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated
like the ocean's leavings. From now on
sailors would be safe, the deep-sea raids
were over for good. Light came from the east,
bright guaruntee of God, and the waves
went quiet; I could see headlands
and buffeted cliffs. Often, for undaunted courage,
fate spares the man it has not already marked.
However it occurred, my sword had killed
nine sea-monsters. Such night dangers
and hard ordeals I have never heard of
nor of a man more desolate in surging waves.
Bur worn out as I was, I survived,
came through with my life. The ocean lifted
and laid me ashore, I landed safe
on the coast of Finland.
"Now I cannot recall
any fight you entered, Unferth,
that bears comparison. I don't boast when I say
that neither you nor Breca were ever much
celebrated for swordsmanship
or for facing danger on the field of battle.
You killed your own kith and kin,
so for all your cleverness and quick tongue,
you will suffer damnation in the depths of hell.
The fact is, Unferth, if you were truly
as keen or courageous as you claim to be
Grendel would never have got away with
such unchecked atrocity, attacks on your king,
havoc in Heorot and horrors everywhere.
But he knows he need never be in dread
of your blade making a mizzle of his blood
or of vengeance arriving ever from this quarter—
from the Victory-Shieldings, the shoulderers of the spear.
He knows he can trample down you Danes
To his heart’s content, humiliate and murder
Without fear of reprisal. But he will find me different.
I will show him how Geats shape to kill
In the heat of battle. Then whoever wants to
May go bravely to mead, when the morning light,
Scarfed in the sun-dazzle, shines forth from the south
And brings another daybreak to the world.”
(Fade to a shot of a pair of hands holding a blue hardcover book, closing the tome. We zoom out, and get the picture of Rocko Daymon standing next to a bookcase in what must be his home office.)
Rocko Daymon
Ahh… Beowulf. You truly have to appreciate the great British masterpieces written through the past couple millennia. They were truly great writers…
(He looks up to the camera with a smirk.)
Rocko Daymon
Not the best speakers or wrestlers you could find in the world, but definitely the leaders in literature, in my opinion.
(He turns to the bookcase and inserts the hardcover copy of The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume 1 into the top shelf, then turns back to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
I sort of recalled that passage from the story after thinking about what has happened over the weekend. Here, Heorot is plagued by this horrible monster, losing friends and soldiers ever night as he raids the mead hall. Then Beowulf sails over, looking to challenge and slay this beast, and everybody’s happy. Almost everybody, that is… one guy, Unferth, sits there and mutters under his breath because he is jealous. He wishes he could have that sort of fame and popularity. But, alas… poor Unferth is a f*ck-off. He’s all talk and no action.
Obviously… you could see the parallels between this Unferth, and my much “esteemed” opponent, Adam Benjamin. Two guys who look at themselves, and automatically feel as though they deserve everything. In Benjamin’s case, he thinks a belt from a defunct fed he couldn’t save and a chance victory of yours truly—him, not me—is reason enough to feel he is entirely capable of being Empire Pro’s first World Champion.
And maybe in MCW, he was at the top of the game… but he’s in Empire Pro, with a LOT of long-time veterans and titans of the professional wrestling world, me included. Things are different now… and Benjamin’s success is simple a flash in the annals of history. We’re involved in an entirely different situation… first round of a tournament, three-way match, first man pinned gets eliminated. Not MCW, not GXW… Empire Pro, where ESTABLISHED names like Sands, Ryan, Beast, and Daymon intend to succeed.
(The sound of the door opening can be heard, and Rocko’s attention is diverted. Stepping into the frame is his wife and manager, Caitlyn Daymon.)
Rocko Daymon
What’s up, babe?
Cailtyn Daymon
Zack is on the phone.
(She looks into the camera for a moment.)
Caitlyn Daymon
But I’m sure he wasn’t aware that you were busy, so I’ll tell him that you’ll call him when you’re finished here.
Rocko Daymon
Thanks.
(With a nod, she turns and leaves the room.)
Rocko Daymon
Zack is probably calling about how he can get some plane tickets to Pittsburg, and if he can get the hookup with seats for Aggression. And you can bet I want him front row and center when he sees how the young kid he met on the street five years ago has grown into the living wrestling legend he is today. I want him to have the closest seat in the house, when I go full-throttle on Adam Benjamin and Dan Ryan, and establish myself as one of the main contenders for the Empire Pro World Title.
(Rocko turns toward his desk, near the bookcase, and falls into the swiveled chair.)
Rocko Daymon
It was about an hour from now when I returned from the gym and watched Adam Benjamin’s last promo. And out of all honesty, I’m still trying to figure out what it was that I just saw. Certainly, that mess of unorganized points and topics stringed together with a clusterf*ck of intangible sentences wasn’t the work of a man who knows he has any hope of winning the title. I was, in fact, quite tempted to call Paul Freeman to ask if Benji is currently on any medication, or if he simply has a natural brain defect that causes his brain to overheat when it undergoes periods of intense stress—the week leading up to an important match where he knows he will be outwrestled, for example.
I’m no psychologist, but I’ve seen it happen many times before. Opponents suddenly become unsure of themselves, because they’re faced with the brutal truth. As a result, they go completely haywire. They laugh off everything, as if it was their confidence speaking, and deliver poorly conducted and disorganized promos, similar to what I saw not long ago from Mr. Benjamin.
The only cure is humility… and humility can only be gained through defeat. Perhaps I’ll do him a favor and eliminate him in this first round, and perhaps I won’t have to suffer a second “meltdown of the ego.”
(He shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
I ask, can anybody take this guy seriously anymore? Can anybody SERIOUSLY watch that last promo, and say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Benjamin has his sh*t together and he will almost certainly be Empire Pro’s first champion? I thought the flip of the coin was a nice touch, but damn… everything following that just went down the crapper. The idiot actually MADE A T-SHIRT for the occasion!
It was so bad, that I don’t even know where to start. I had to take notes, for chrissakes…
(He picks up a pad of paper resting on his desk, and looks at it.)
Rocko Daymon
This here is essentially the run-down of disjointed and unconnected points that was Adam Benjamin’s promo…
- Dog crap and frog wife…
- Girlfriend in New York…
- Pill-pushing and improvement…
- The “hole” teeth and toothbrush bit…
- Not working out while training…
- Is better and has done more…
- MCW is STILL not his fault…
- Something that MIGHT have been a closing statement.
(Clearing his throat, Rocko sets the notepad aside.)
Rocko Daymon
If that didn’t sound ridiculous enough, what would you say if I told you that that was only scratching the surface? This summary sounds stupid by itself, but sitting through the entire promo is an entirely HORRIFYING experience. What Benjamin basically did was he took the phrase, “You suck, and I am much better than you,” and extended it into ten minutes of outright torture. Nowhere in his promo does he present reasons why, or make a valid argument. He sits there and acts like a five-year-old trying to present himself as an adult in front of a viewing audience. It’s completely disgusting, that the federation should waste the time, money, and effort into putting him on the air when he does nothing but make an ass out of himself and a joke out of Empire Pro.
I’m not even going to try to present a rebuttal to the accusations he threw at me in his latest promo. Unlike him, I try to present myself in a mature fashion. You better believe when I cut a promo, there’s bound to be a POINT to it. It’s hard to believe that weeks ago, when Benjamin and I were booked to team against Brown and Sands, this same man PRAISED me for the phenomenal talent and motivation I presented during our one and only match
Benjamin has done nothing but talk sh*t all week. But I am different in the ways I have SHOWN this federation the truth, where I stand. I played the match for the people, Benjamin vs. Daymon, to show them that he came nowhere near to “kicking my ass”; his success was ENTIRELY based on luck. I have shown that I have dedicated every minute of this week toward this match, in preparation and promotion. Benjamin, on the other hand, has done nothing but talk. He’s talked about how great he is and how I’m so much worse than him. My question is, where’s the proof? What has HE to show?
(He pauses for a beat, allowing the viewer to figure that out on his or her own.)
Rocko Daymon
My goal through making my promos this week was not to say I am better than Adam Benjamin, or prove that in any way. I intend to do that in the ring. The point of my recurring appearances is that I’m telling everybody, from my opponents to the fans, that I am going to do everything I can to pass through this match, and become Empire Pro’s first champion. I think my recent performance has shown that I’m fully able to keep up with the talent around this federation… and though I’ve suffered numerous last-second letdowns, my wrestling clearly speaks for itself. Christian Sands did not carry me through the entire match when we met last weak. Similarly, Adam Benjamin did not prove himself to be superior in any way to me when we met in GXW. With that said, I feel that with the proper motivation, I can easily win this tournament.
But Benjamin talks to me as if I was a lowly stranger on the street who cut him off. Here he talks about how he is better than me, and I will never be as good as him… as well as how in the short time he’s been wrestling, he’s accomplished twice as much as me. Am I sensing a certain level of bullsh*t here? I think Benjamin’s recent flash-in-the-pan success has gone to his head, cause now he’s just speaking psychobabble.
(He clears his throat, then edges near the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Adam… let me speak to you directly. If you truly ARE that much better than I am, then maybe you could explain a few things for me. First, explain why at Aggression, just by gazing into the audience, you could see a myriad of Rocko Daymon signs, shirts, and posters… and almost nothing related to “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin. Explain why your match against Killjoy Tommy Mayhem was set BELOW my own against Christian Sands, serving as nothing more than a warm-up for the later competitions. Explain why Jake Morgan rated my match higher than yours.
Cause by looking at things… it’s quite obvious that the fans, the talent, and the staff of Empire Pro consider ME to be the more talented and extravagant wrestler, between the two of us. So my advice to you, Adam, is to THINK before you start speaking trash, cause nobody else is familiar with the divine sign that gave you your sort of confidence. All I’ve got to say is this, Adam: You think you’re big and bad…?
Then prove it, f*ck-wad.
(Confident nod.)
Rocko Daymon
And I’m not about to forget about Dan Ryan. We haven’t heard much out of you this week, bud. But I’m sure that’s expected, when a guy like you is involved in so many federations. But you do what you gotta do, and either way, I expect to see you in the ring, and put forth a decent challenge. But understand that I’m going to be giving it my all, and if you aren’t prepared to do the same, then don’t expect to get far in this tournament.
With that said, I’m out.
(With a nod, Daymon stands from his chair and walks out of the frame. We fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
Adam_Benjamin
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 313
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 45
(Fade into “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin seen standing outside his gym he has just finished up his workout and has taken the time to talk to the EPW world)
Benjamin: You know it’s funny RD that you are reading some nice British lit, I am happy to see that you enjoy a fellow countryman’s work. But why do you need to take such great work and tie it into a spin off of your points of view. The country of England has not that many quality wrestlers? Lets see there is Max Blackshire, there is Karl Brown, and there is Yours Truly. Well there is just three off the top of my head that have come to the states and dominated. There goes that attack nice try RD.
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: Now again you bring up MCW, man let it go RD. All I have ever said is that I live with the feeling of having a title taken away from me with out anyone defeating me for it. I use that for my own personal driving force. You want to say I am a flash in the pan, then what does that make you garbage in the can? I mean as silly as that might sound it is the truth. You want to talk about all this veterans of the past who have made names for themselves, and then slide your name in there too? Wow what have you done lately to put your name in that group of names other than tasting their defeats perhaps?
(Adam shakes his head)
Benjamin: Twisting my words into a joke how cleaver of you. I like how you fade away from the clear and obvious and look threw the fogged glasses of yours. Man what have I said that is so hard for you to understand? Lets see I said I am better than you, and I have a win over you to prove it! You call my win a fluke and say you were about to beat me, I being the better man countered your move and pinned you. What else RD I mean you are stepping in dog poop, need I say more? As for the shirt well call it a joke? Or is it reality in a comical way? I mean you are the man who week in say’s this is your time, this is your chance to become a legend or an icon, and then you go out and fail. So hey you are the little engine that couldn’t in my eyes.
(Adam points to his eyes)
Benjamin: You say you are not going to even give a rebuttal to my last promo? That is fine I knew you would duck the truth. I mean all I want to know is why in my one year and half of my career I have done more than you in your five years of hell you like to call a career? But hey if you can’t give all your fans, you know the ones with the Rocko signs in the crowd a true answer you don’t have too. And speaking of the fans and there signs I really do not care, I am a heel and I am what is know as a bad guy in this company. I call them names mean things about them, why would they make signs for me. But I will tell you one thing about the fans, like me or hate me I know they respect what I do in the ring.
(Adam looks downward then back towards the camera)
Benjamin: You asked what I have done to say I am better than you, or even worthy of being the champion of this federation? Take a look at my resume, now look at yourself in the mirror and slap yourself. What have you done that comes close to what I have? Hell I beat you in GXW, I was the MCW champion, you lose every match your in, hell your not even good enough to get booked on the GXW PPV, were as I am in a potential card stealer! Your match last week was given more hype and a better spot on the card due to your opponent not you. Jack Morgan gave you a better rating because you take a better ass kicking then Mayhem does I guess. As far as me and you are concerned its like comparing a 8 tracked to a DVD it really is. Put if you want to call me a talker go right ahead, because in reality I am much like you a talker, however I back my words up and do not let the world down like you seem to do so well.
(Adam laughs as he looks into the camera)
Benjamin: RD your career goes like this… Opps I did it again, I lost another match, I thought I could win, oh Caitlin, You think I am good, A legend above, I lost another match!
(Adam smiles and he opens his door)
Benjamin: Beji fact of the day, Adam is a huge Britney Fan! I will not lie I think she is a hot American chick. But that song ‘Opps I did it again” is all about you RD. And this week you will once again fail after telling everyone how you would succeed. But hey the mighty hands of time are in your hands RD make the best of you latest chance, but hey there always is the passion of being the IC champion, I am sure you will be selling that dream next week. See you around mate!!!
(Benjamin gets into his car, rolls down the window to say something)
Benjamin: Dan Ryan your hand is showing, and I am calling!!!
(fade to black as Adam drives off)
Benjamin: You know it’s funny RD that you are reading some nice British lit, I am happy to see that you enjoy a fellow countryman’s work. But why do you need to take such great work and tie it into a spin off of your points of view. The country of England has not that many quality wrestlers? Lets see there is Max Blackshire, there is Karl Brown, and there is Yours Truly. Well there is just three off the top of my head that have come to the states and dominated. There goes that attack nice try RD.
(Adam smiles)
Benjamin: Now again you bring up MCW, man let it go RD. All I have ever said is that I live with the feeling of having a title taken away from me with out anyone defeating me for it. I use that for my own personal driving force. You want to say I am a flash in the pan, then what does that make you garbage in the can? I mean as silly as that might sound it is the truth. You want to talk about all this veterans of the past who have made names for themselves, and then slide your name in there too? Wow what have you done lately to put your name in that group of names other than tasting their defeats perhaps?
(Adam shakes his head)
Benjamin: Twisting my words into a joke how cleaver of you. I like how you fade away from the clear and obvious and look threw the fogged glasses of yours. Man what have I said that is so hard for you to understand? Lets see I said I am better than you, and I have a win over you to prove it! You call my win a fluke and say you were about to beat me, I being the better man countered your move and pinned you. What else RD I mean you are stepping in dog poop, need I say more? As for the shirt well call it a joke? Or is it reality in a comical way? I mean you are the man who week in say’s this is your time, this is your chance to become a legend or an icon, and then you go out and fail. So hey you are the little engine that couldn’t in my eyes.
(Adam points to his eyes)
Benjamin: You say you are not going to even give a rebuttal to my last promo? That is fine I knew you would duck the truth. I mean all I want to know is why in my one year and half of my career I have done more than you in your five years of hell you like to call a career? But hey if you can’t give all your fans, you know the ones with the Rocko signs in the crowd a true answer you don’t have too. And speaking of the fans and there signs I really do not care, I am a heel and I am what is know as a bad guy in this company. I call them names mean things about them, why would they make signs for me. But I will tell you one thing about the fans, like me or hate me I know they respect what I do in the ring.
(Adam looks downward then back towards the camera)
Benjamin: You asked what I have done to say I am better than you, or even worthy of being the champion of this federation? Take a look at my resume, now look at yourself in the mirror and slap yourself. What have you done that comes close to what I have? Hell I beat you in GXW, I was the MCW champion, you lose every match your in, hell your not even good enough to get booked on the GXW PPV, were as I am in a potential card stealer! Your match last week was given more hype and a better spot on the card due to your opponent not you. Jack Morgan gave you a better rating because you take a better ass kicking then Mayhem does I guess. As far as me and you are concerned its like comparing a 8 tracked to a DVD it really is. Put if you want to call me a talker go right ahead, because in reality I am much like you a talker, however I back my words up and do not let the world down like you seem to do so well.
(Adam laughs as he looks into the camera)
Benjamin: RD your career goes like this… Opps I did it again, I lost another match, I thought I could win, oh Caitlin, You think I am good, A legend above, I lost another match!
(Adam smiles and he opens his door)
Benjamin: Beji fact of the day, Adam is a huge Britney Fan! I will not lie I think she is a hot American chick. But that song ‘Opps I did it again” is all about you RD. And this week you will once again fail after telling everyone how you would succeed. But hey the mighty hands of time are in your hands RD make the best of you latest chance, but hey there always is the passion of being the IC champion, I am sure you will be selling that dream next week. See you around mate!!!
(Benjamin gets into his car, rolls down the window to say something)
Benjamin: Dan Ryan your hand is showing, and I am calling!!!
(fade to black as Adam drives off)
Last edited:
Then He made the Internet.
SCENE BEGINS
(White is the scene, but that is because it's all that CAN be seen. In his driveway, covered in snow, Rocko Daymon, clad in his coat, clears a path for outgoing and incoming vehicle. He speaks to the cameraman while he clears the way, in an almost conversational voice.)
Rocko Daymon
You know, Edgar... I find that clearing the driveway with a snowshovel is a good respiratory exercise. Out here, in the cold air, I feel my breathing getting stronger... along with my endurance.
(He looks up, and into the camera... or rather, PAST the camera, at the man holding it.)
Rocko Daymon
You filming again?
(The camera nods. Rocko shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
Hey, whatever... if you gotta use up the rest of the tape, then by all means, film away. I'm sure nobody's truly interested in my daily life anyways.
(Then, the front door opens. Caitlyn appears in the doorway. Rocko hails her with a wave.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Rocko?
Rocko Daymon
Yeah?
Caitlyn Daymon
Could you come in here for a minute...?
(Rocko looks to the camera, shrugs, and sets his shovel aside, unzipping his coat and walking in through the door. He stamps his shoes on the rug and removes them as Caitly closes the door behind him.)
Rocko Daymon
So what's the problem?
Caitlyn Daymon
Well, I was watching TV, and...
Rocko Daymon
...yeah?
Caitlyn Daymon
It seems as though Benjamin has done another promo.
(Rocko looks at her for a moment, his expression blank.)
Rocko Daymon
...you have GOT to be kidding me?
(Her answer is a slow shake of the head. Rocko rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh.)
Rocko Daymon
Caitlyn, it's been TWO HOURS since I shot my last one! What does he do, sit in front of a TV every minute of the day, waiting for the next Rocko Daymon roleplay? Does he have some sort of obsession with getting the last word, EVERY TIME? I don't f*cking believe this...
(He stalks into the living room with the countenance of an angry lion, and walks over to the TV. He pulls up a chair and sits near the VCR.)
Rocko Daymon
You taped it?
Caitlyn Daymon
Yep. Already rewound, cause I knew you'd want to see it.
Rocko Daymon
Yeah...
Call the custom t-shirt place... let's make it, "Adam Benjamin 24/7" on the front, and on the back, "No F*cking Life, No ****ing Brains."
(Rolling his eyes, he presses the play button, revealing Adam Benjamin before... my, what is this? An Empire Pro backdrop!)
Rocko Daymon
...didn't I already see this one?
Caitlyn Daymon
No.
(The promo begins.)
Adam Benjamin
You know it’s funny RD that you are reading some nice British lit, I am happy to see that you enjoy a fellow countryman’s work. But why do you need to take such great work and tie it into a spin off of your points of view. The country of England has not that many quality wrestlers? Lets see there is Max Blackshire, there is Karl Brown, and there is Yours Truly. Well there is just three off the top of my head that have come to the states and dominated. There goes that attack nice try RD.
(With his arms crossed over his chest, Rocko rolls his eyes.)
Adam Benjamin
Now again you bring up MCW, man let it go ED. All I have ever said is that I live with the feeling of having a title taken away from me with out anyone defeating me for it. I use that for my own personal driving force. You want to say I am a flash in the pan, then what does that make you garbage in the can? I mean as silly as that might sound it is the truth. You want to talk about all this veterans of the past who have made names for themselves, and then slide your name in there too? Wow what have you done lately to put your name in that group of names other than tasting their defeats perhaps?
Rocko Daymon
It's about what's been done in all, jackass...
Adam Benjamin
Twisting my words into a joke how cleaver of you. I like how you fade away from the clear and obvious and look threw the fogged glasses--
Rocko Daymon
Okay, this has gotta stop...
(Scoffing with discuss, Rocko ejects the tape and comes to his feet.)
Caitlyn Daymon
What's the matter?
Rocko Daymon
What's the matter? The matter is that THIS... is trash.
(He drops it into a nearby wastebasket.)
Rocko Daymon
This is no different then any of his latest promos... just a jumbled clutter of words and phrases all thrown together. There's so many run-on sentences, I get the feeling I'm listening to Ralph Wiggum with a British accent!
(Rocko slaps on a mock British accent.)
Rocko Daymon
"Ha ha, RD, you its funny that you are not better than me but I'm better than you and it's funny so there and I am so great and I would have never lost the MCW title if it hadn't closed but it's not my fault, but it's funny RD, because, RD, I had this bean burrito earlier, and it made me think of this t-shirt, RD, I think it's funny, jolly good show."
Caitlyn, I have a driveway to clear. I am not going to waste my time, and my voice, talking to a man whose logic is that of a mentally inefficient child. So you know what?
F*ck Adam Benjamin... he can wait another day.
(Rocko looks to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Turn that off...
(Cut to black.)
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
(White is the scene, but that is because it's all that CAN be seen. In his driveway, covered in snow, Rocko Daymon, clad in his coat, clears a path for outgoing and incoming vehicle. He speaks to the cameraman while he clears the way, in an almost conversational voice.)
Rocko Daymon
You know, Edgar... I find that clearing the driveway with a snowshovel is a good respiratory exercise. Out here, in the cold air, I feel my breathing getting stronger... along with my endurance.
(He looks up, and into the camera... or rather, PAST the camera, at the man holding it.)
Rocko Daymon
You filming again?
(The camera nods. Rocko shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
Hey, whatever... if you gotta use up the rest of the tape, then by all means, film away. I'm sure nobody's truly interested in my daily life anyways.
(Then, the front door opens. Caitlyn appears in the doorway. Rocko hails her with a wave.)
Caitlyn Daymon
Rocko?
Rocko Daymon
Yeah?
Caitlyn Daymon
Could you come in here for a minute...?
(Rocko looks to the camera, shrugs, and sets his shovel aside, unzipping his coat and walking in through the door. He stamps his shoes on the rug and removes them as Caitly closes the door behind him.)
Rocko Daymon
So what's the problem?
Caitlyn Daymon
Well, I was watching TV, and...
Rocko Daymon
...yeah?
Caitlyn Daymon
It seems as though Benjamin has done another promo.
(Rocko looks at her for a moment, his expression blank.)
Rocko Daymon
...you have GOT to be kidding me?
(Her answer is a slow shake of the head. Rocko rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh.)
Rocko Daymon
Caitlyn, it's been TWO HOURS since I shot my last one! What does he do, sit in front of a TV every minute of the day, waiting for the next Rocko Daymon roleplay? Does he have some sort of obsession with getting the last word, EVERY TIME? I don't f*cking believe this...
(He stalks into the living room with the countenance of an angry lion, and walks over to the TV. He pulls up a chair and sits near the VCR.)
Rocko Daymon
You taped it?
Caitlyn Daymon
Yep. Already rewound, cause I knew you'd want to see it.
Rocko Daymon
Yeah...
Call the custom t-shirt place... let's make it, "Adam Benjamin 24/7" on the front, and on the back, "No F*cking Life, No ****ing Brains."
(Rolling his eyes, he presses the play button, revealing Adam Benjamin before... my, what is this? An Empire Pro backdrop!)
Rocko Daymon
...didn't I already see this one?
Caitlyn Daymon
No.
(The promo begins.)
Adam Benjamin
You know it’s funny RD that you are reading some nice British lit, I am happy to see that you enjoy a fellow countryman’s work. But why do you need to take such great work and tie it into a spin off of your points of view. The country of England has not that many quality wrestlers? Lets see there is Max Blackshire, there is Karl Brown, and there is Yours Truly. Well there is just three off the top of my head that have come to the states and dominated. There goes that attack nice try RD.
(With his arms crossed over his chest, Rocko rolls his eyes.)
Adam Benjamin
Now again you bring up MCW, man let it go ED. All I have ever said is that I live with the feeling of having a title taken away from me with out anyone defeating me for it. I use that for my own personal driving force. You want to say I am a flash in the pan, then what does that make you garbage in the can? I mean as silly as that might sound it is the truth. You want to talk about all this veterans of the past who have made names for themselves, and then slide your name in there too? Wow what have you done lately to put your name in that group of names other than tasting their defeats perhaps?
Rocko Daymon
It's about what's been done in all, jackass...
Adam Benjamin
Twisting my words into a joke how cleaver of you. I like how you fade away from the clear and obvious and look threw the fogged glasses--
Rocko Daymon
Okay, this has gotta stop...
(Scoffing with discuss, Rocko ejects the tape and comes to his feet.)
Caitlyn Daymon
What's the matter?
Rocko Daymon
What's the matter? The matter is that THIS... is trash.
(He drops it into a nearby wastebasket.)
Rocko Daymon
This is no different then any of his latest promos... just a jumbled clutter of words and phrases all thrown together. There's so many run-on sentences, I get the feeling I'm listening to Ralph Wiggum with a British accent!
(Rocko slaps on a mock British accent.)
Rocko Daymon
"Ha ha, RD, you its funny that you are not better than me but I'm better than you and it's funny so there and I am so great and I would have never lost the MCW title if it hadn't closed but it's not my fault, but it's funny RD, because, RD, I had this bean burrito earlier, and it made me think of this t-shirt, RD, I think it's funny, jolly good show."
Caitlyn, I have a driveway to clear. I am not going to waste my time, and my voice, talking to a man whose logic is that of a mentally inefficient child. So you know what?
F*ck Adam Benjamin... he can wait another day.
(Rocko looks to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Turn that off...
(Cut to black.)
SCENE ENDS
SCENE BEGINS
(Fade in. On the studio, an Empire Pro backdrop sits at angle, fastened to a rig that would normally not be visible on camera, for a medium shot of the speaker standing before it. But we begin this with a long shot, showing the backdrop being suspended in the background, and nearby, at the edge of the stage, Rocko Daymon sits in a director's chair with his feet propped on someone's toolbox.)
(He is adorned in jeans, a black T-shirt with his red twist logo on the chest, and his favorite leather jacket. He sits, his legs propped up and crossed, and his cheek leaning against the knuckles of his right hand, the index finger stretched up the side of his face. He looks off into space, in thought.)
Rocko Daymon
I arrived in Pittsburgh this morning, with Caitlyn, my friend, and his wife... I stepped off the plane, in Pittsburgh International Airport, and you wouldn't believe what I saw.
There was a crowd there. I couldn't tell you how many people it was... a hundred or maybe more. And as soon as I stepped off the plane, they began cheering. The held up the signs, and the t-shirts. They started chanting my name. I was so suprised, I didn't know how to react at first.
It's been a long while since I've had some followers after I had been out for so long, but little by little, more fans keep coming on to my side. And it really touched me to see everybody there at the airport.
(He pauses for a beat. The camera slowly tracks in so he may fill more of the frame.)
Rocko Daymon
So naturally, I came up to them, shook hands, signed autographs...
(He looks up with a smile, shaking his right hand in the air.)
Rocko Daymon
And boy... is my right hand tired. When you sign you name so many times, it really cramps up the muscles. But nevertheless, Caitlyn and I stayed with the crowd until every last fan who drove through the snow to meet us there was pleased. Then we came here, to the arena.
But while at the airport, something caught my eye. One fan held up a sign. No names, or pictures, or logos or anything... just one simple phrase. You know what it said?
"The Legend Lives On."
(He looks away, slowly nodding his head.)
Rocko Daymon
Over the past couple weeks, I've done a lot of thinking over the definition of legend. When I came back to wrestling... I was convinced that I had a long way to go. I looked at guys like DreamMaker, and Kendall Codine, and even one of my opponents this week, Dan Ryan... and I thought to myself, "THESE guys are true wrestling legends... but what do I have to do to be on their level?"
And after these past couple weeks, by looking into the crowd, and seeing my fans... I realized that I was wrong, with what I thought a legend was. I look at guys like DreamMaker and Codine... DreamMaker, whose name happens to sit on a roster for months, but doesn't wrestle the entire time. Codine, who makes a glamorous return to the ring every year or so, and lasts for about a week or two.
These guys have walked the walk... but I realize that a legend isn't simply a guy who does great things and merely fades from existence. A legend pushes on, continuing to do great things... continuing to improve, and wow the fans. A legend lives on, forever.
(One single nod.)
Rocko Daymon
I am a wrestling legend... cause I have done many great things in my career, and I continue to do so. The fans have never lost faith, nor have I. No matter what is said, every minute I spend in the ring, before my injury and since my return, has been spent busting my ass, putting the hurt on my opponent, and making them EARN victory.
I have made a lot of mistakes, yes... and because of those last-minute mistakes, I have lost matches. But I am a man who grows. In all of my five years, there have been many times where I have been beaten... but I always come back in the rematch, with something to prove. And I never fail to prove it. My opponents, always blinded by the impression that history repeats itself, never see it coming. For that reason, when it comes to comebacks... the odds are always in the favor of the underdog, Rochester Vincent Daymon.
(He looks into the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
This week, I once again have something to prove... this time, to Adam Benjamin. I'm going to prove that mistakes are never repeated, and lightning never strikes twice. While Adam Benjamin has found confidence in his abilities from his lucky last-second counter in our last meeting, I have been busting my ass in the gym, training against numerous technical experts, doing anything and everything I can to make sure when I fight Adam Benjamin the second time, I will be better prepared, and I will overcome this time around.
No mistakes... no counters... just my mettle and motivation against his own. And I'm confident... I have reason to be.
(He lets those words sink in, as he pauses for a long moment, then speaks again.)
Rocko Daymon
There was a time when Adam Benjamin used to respect me, before, and after our last match. When we were scheduled to team up against Karl Brown and Christian Sands, he even admitted that he was 100% confident that we would win. He said, after fighting me, and knowing what level of talent I was able to dish out in the ring, there was no way we could lose.
But somewhere, between then and now, Karl Brown had a change of heart. What he says now completely contradicts what he said during the final week of MCW. And for that reason?
Well, there is no reason. There's no way anybody could explain it rationally. My guess is that something in his head simply snapped once he realized that his first title reign had come to an end due to his failure to secure himself as the federation's first true icon. Now, everything's warped and contradictory in his head. Facts are jumbled around and opinions have been drastically altered. Perhaps its a last ditch attempt to lower my confidence. In that case, it's a very weak attempt.
(He shakes his head.)
Rocko Daymon
I really don't know what to say. One day, Adam Benjamin glorifies me as one of the greatest wrestlers ever, and the next, he spits on me like a dog. I can't explain why, but I guess he just woke up one day and decided to be a Grade A assh*le for his own personal enjoyment.
(Shakes his head again and shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
Adam Benjamin has lately thrown out a string of promos, with jumbled messages that... to me, don't make any sense. In every one of them, he tries to bring across the message that he is better than me. And over the week, I've been asking him where he gets this idea... and he has so far presented nothing more than FOUR major arguments...
He is from the United Kingdom... he has beaten me before... he is the former MCW Champion... and he has accomplished more than me in terms of careers.
Through this promo, I'm going to show how every one of these points is absolutely moot, and don't clearly PROVE how Adam Benjamin is the better wrestler, nor will it prove why he will survive this three-way dance at Aggression, win next week's match, and go on to become Empire Pro's first World Champion.
(He clears his throat.)
Rocko Daymon
First, there's this issue with his coming from England. I asked him to give me the names of all the great wrestlers who hail from England. He gave his own, Karl Brown, and Max Blackshire's. And those are three worthy names... but three, in the entire professional wrestling industry. Three doesn't cut it in my book... I expected many more.
And for the record, Adam... I have wrestled and beaten Karl Brown, since my return. It was my redebut into wrestling, remember? Max Blackshire has done very little since the death of his brother--whom you neglected to mention, by the way, cause Cyrus Blackshire was one of the finest professional wrestlers I've ever seen in my illustrious career.
And as for yourself? Heh... well that's the point of this promo isn't it?
(He looks off, silent for a moment, squinting his eyes and shaking his head in wonder.)
Rocko Daymon
I know foreign origin has a lot to do with a professional wrestler's personality, and wrestling style. You always hear about the technical prowess of the Canadians... the luche-libres down south of the border... the hardcore martial artists of Japan and the Asian-Pacific regions. But wrestlers from England?
Can't say there are many that stand out in my mind... and believe me, I would know. I have wrestled around the entire globe for a good five years of my life. I could pull out my passport, and name a common wrestling style for every country I have a stamp for. Suffice to say, nothing truly stands out in England in the wrestling world.
The jury's still out to determine whether or not you truly are a "better" wrestler, Adam... but the evidence surely doesn't lie in that rock out in the ocean. Let's move on.
(He looks off stage and makes a gesture. A second later, someone from off camera hands him a bottle of water.)
Rocko Daymon
Next, we come to this issue about our previous match. Now I'm not going to deny that you won, and it was a clean pin. But I do feel you miss what truly mattered. I kept up with you through that entire match, Adam. In fact, I dominated. If it wasn't for that crucial mistake I made in the last few seconds of the match, I would won. But like I said before, I do not repeat mistakes. I never have, in my entire five years of professional wrestling, and I never will.
Try to look at the facts, Adam. You spent that entire match dishing out everything you could, doing anything to try and overpower me. But at every turn, you got shot down, so much that you JUST BARELY came out with the win. You didn't even come close to hitting me with your finisher. With that said, how do you expect to pull it off this time around? Or next week, for that matter, if you're luck enough to survive this round?
(He pauses for a beat.)
Rocko Daymon
I think your inexperience causes you to doubt the power of the situation. You see, I look back on your short career... and while you have won quite a few matches, most of them were one-shot deals. Every week, you go up against a different opponent. You haven't had many rematches or feuds thus far. But that changes now, cause for the first time, you fight an opponent for the SECOND time. It's time you learned that history never repeats itself--I alone am proof of that statement. You win some and lose some... but ultimately, it depends on the situation.
For example, once, a few years ago, I had a bitter feud against another wrestler. We fought of pair of matches. He won the first, and I won the rematch. Now you'd think... by Adam Benjamin's logic, if he won the first match, he would automatically be the "better wrestler", am I right? So how is it that he didn't succeed in upholding that image in our second match?
You know why? Because he was cocky... he thought he could do the same thing twice. And that arrogance, the very same we've seen from Adam Benjamin all this week, cause him to lose that match. In addition to that, I improved. I learned from my mistakes and went back to the gym, worked out the kinks, then stepped back into the ring with something to prove.
(He smiles.)
Rocko Daymon
And I proved it... which explains why I am a former SCW World Champion.
But what this all means is that clearly, Adam Benjamin's lucky break in the first round of the Battleground Countdown tournament is NOT evidence that he is the better wrestler. He is quick to forget that not once in that entire match did he assuredly have control of everything, or have any remarkable spots. I, on the other hand, walked into that ring and did everything I promised I would do, which Adam Benjamin foolishly disregards. I did everything I said... except win.
All because of that one mistake. And every time I look back, that memory comes glaring into my face. The only way I can make up for that mistake is to survive this match... to overshadow Adam Benjamin's performance, or eliminate him, or do SOMETHING that leaves a significant mark in the minds of the fans and the wrestlers involved.
In conclusion, yes, he won... but that doesn't make him any better in the ring.
(Snapping the seal off of his bottle of water, Rocko unscrews the lid off, takes a gush, swallows it down, and turns back to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Now we touch upon the MCW issue. Adam Benjamin was the federation's one and only champion, during its short-lived tenure, and he busted his ass to get that title. That's all fine and dandy... but what does that mean to me? We're in Empire Pro, now. New talent and new challenges. Overall, it's a whole new game for Adam Benjamin. If you look at GXW, where he's been for MANY MONTHS, mind you, he's accomplished... absolutely nothing. Until he match against Dan Ryan, he was basically unknown. But the second he takes a belt in another fed, where there is, shall we say, a smaller field of competition, he suddenly feels as though he was one of the greatest wrestlers ever.
Adam, if being MCW champion is proof of your greatness, then explain to me why you are nothing more than a midcard stain in GXW? On second thought, I'll explain it myself. You see, GXW is a federation with a lot of talent to go through before you can earn your shot at the big time. I heard the closest you got to anything there was a couple shots at the Television Title, both of which you lost. But you see, MCW had less of a roster, not to mention had no current champion to hold the title. How many opponents did you fight before you took that title? Three? Four?
Crap, anybody with wrestling talent could get an easy streak of three or four wins. That's the beauty of a tournament. Look at Battleground Countdown... do you think Boogie Smallz is naturally better than everybody involved in that tournament because he won? What I'm trying to say, Adam, is that winning a tournament made you a champion... but it doesn't really compare to doing it the old-fashioned way. Try working your way up the ladder, fighting on for several months, until you FINALLY earn your spot in the main event, against the champion. Maybe THEN... I might consider you as a real heavy-hitter. But as it stands, winning a tournament, though impressive, proves nothing. I wasn't in that tournament, but who knows... if I was, maybe things would have turned out differently.
(He takes another sip.)
Rocko Daymon
And you're still clinging to the idea that if MCW was still open, you would still be champion. IF... they were still open. But haven't you realized that the reason why they closed is because you WERE the champion? I explained this all to you already, but you're doding the facts. You see, being MCW's World Champion meant more than defending that belt on a weekly basis. It meant being an icon... entertaining the audience, and making them want to come back to see more. Sure, you were doing pretty well in the ring... but you had no personality, or anything that made the fans appreciate you.
As a result, little by little, they started tuning out. Ticket sales were dropping. Eventually, Bolich just decided to pull the plug. Everything was doing SO well until the moment you won the title. And from there, everything went on a downward spiral. Can we see a trend, there?
Fact of the matter is, you won the title by being presented a small challenge... and you didn't know what to do with it. You simply figured by winning matches, everything would be okay, and you could keep the belt. But there's more to being the World Champion than that, Adam. And because you didn't see that, MCW closed down, and stripped you of your belt. But the way I see it, you unconciously threw away that title. Getting beaten by someone is one thing, but when you let down the championship and the entire federation by simply not having the know how... that's another. That's just pretty damn stupid.
(He cocks his eyebrow, and takes another sip, and continues.)
Rocko Daymon
So you're British... you beat me once... you won a title... and none of that yet proves exactly WHY you are a better wrestler. You're running out of options here, Adam... and we have one more to touch on. You claim that in the short time you have been involved in professional wrestling, you have accomplished more than I ever have.
First and foremost... exactly what timeframe are you thinking in? Are you saying you've accomplished than me since my return, or in my entire career? If it's the latter, then I can assure you with argument, you are wrong. I am a former World Champion, as are you... only I held onto my title thrice as long as you held onto yours, not to mention I've held onto a variety of other championships in my five year tenure. Even if you argue that you were never pinned for your title, do you really believe you could have held onto it for half a year? I don't think you understand what a challenge that is. I was booked in the main event, week after week, for six months, against all comers. I defended my title against people who were willing to do ANYTHING to win, and I succeeded, until one guy finally got the idea to use the same strategy as Christian Sands from last week, and take that belt from me.
You were doing well during your short World Championship tenure in MCW, but as history clearly shows, no federation would stay open long enough for you to go past the six month mark I've made. Looking at you, I really don't see a guy who can withstand the same sort of challenges I went through years ago. You're just too cocky and inexperienced... you wouldn't have had a hope in hell. So in summary, you don't even come close to being equal to what I've accomplished. I tip the scale phenomenally, if you look back through those five years.
(He eyes the bottle, decides he's not thirsty, and simply sets it aside.)
Rocko Daymon
So maybe you were saying, you have accomplished more than me in your career than I have since I've returned. Well yes, that's true... you've been around for almost a year, but I've only been wrestling since November. Last I checked, Adam... you didn't win any titles or championships within three months of signing up with Global Xtreme Wrestling. In fact, you haven't done practically ANYTHING in GXW. Winning MCW's World Title was your only spot on the map, out of an entire year. I think maybe I need a little time to catch up before I can be judged on what I've accomplished compared to you. You may be more established at this point... but that doesn't make you better in terms of talent.
But who knows... come November 2004, you may be looking at your own career, wondering why you still haven't done anything more than win a world title from a short-lived federation, while you look at me, and see all I've gained from my effort and hard work. Try not to look suprised when that time rolls around, cause I told you so in the first place.
(He pauses for a beat, wearing half a grin.)
Rocko Daymon
So let's see... I have proven thus far that in spite of your British heritage, your recent win over me, your short-lived title reign as MCW's World Champion, and your "accomplishments" in the past year, you are clearly wrong with everything you try to say. I know you use these "facts" to boost your ego in any way you can, but I'm afraid I have to burst your bubble.
With that said, it's time to get to the Rocko Fact of the Day: Beyond a doubt... you are NOT a better wrestler than me. And just through talking, I have proven it. Imagine what it's going to be like at Aggression, when I prove it again in the ring.
With this conclusion drawn, let me inform you that I will NOT be cutting any more promos until Aggression... because, quite honestly, I have better things to do with my time. But before you run out to make your response within the next two hours, listen to me now, and listen well. There's nothing you could say that can prove you as the better professional wrestler... not in my eyes, or in the eyes of the fans, the other wrestlers, or the executives. In the end, it's not about what you say... it's about what you SHOW. With that said, it's going to be what I show you in the ring which ultimately determines who the better wrestler is.
(He nods confidently, taking his feet off the toolbox and leaning forward.)
Rocko Daymon
Ever since my return, Adam Benjamin, the fans and the federations have had high expectations. And I've delivered everything they expected, and more. You see things in win-loss ratios... but that sort of vision is what cause MCW to close down, with your ignorance. I see things based on performance. I see the match we competed in, and in spite of being pinned in the end, I see all the great moments where I had the fans cheering, not because I'm the good guy... but because I can entertain better than you. Not only that, I can compete. I do it so well, even you were robbed of a glorious win.
Let me tell you something, Adam... professional wrestling is not made by who wins and who loses. It's made by the men who sweat and bleed in that ring... who give it their all, no matter what happens in the end. If the fans wanted to see winners and losers, we wouldn't even have shows like Aggression or Revolution; results would simply be posted on a bulletin board somewhere, with a W beside the winner's name. But professional wrestling has a lot more depth than that. It's all about the matches that take place in the ring... and what happens there.
It just so happens, Adam, that I do just a little bit more. Perhaps I haven't been graced with any rewards for my efforts yet... but I'm not here to win. I'm here to make you bleed, and scream in pain... and to hear the fans cheer me on. I make my opponents fear for their lives when they're in the ring with me. How could you judge me on results alone, when in every match I have been in, I have delivered this? Karl Brown... Corey Thomas... Christian Sands... even you, Adam. You've all walked the same road, and were chilled to the bone.
(Pauses a beat.)
Rocko Daymon
But I'm going to take it a step further this week, at Aggression... simply because I can, and because I want you to realize something. When we step in the ring, with Dan Ryan... I'm not ONLY going to make you feel pain. I've got something better to prove... overall, I am a better professional wrestler than you, and I can prove it in the ring. And considering you only see things depending on who gets the pinfall, then I'm going for that too.
I'm not only going to beat the living hell out of you in the ring, Adam... I'm going to pin your shoulders onto the mat, to show you that even though you beat me the first time, comebacks are what do. I'm going to prove that I can take a close defeat, use it as motivation, and turn it into a solid victory over the man who just barely beat me last time we met. I'm going to humble you, and in doing so, maybe you'll see a bit more about the industry that you think you know so well.
At Aggression... you will bleed, you will hurt, and you will lose. If Dan Ryan is watching, then he can be assured that he'll make it as far as the second round. I've made my choice of who to take with me in this tournament, and it sure as hell isn't Adam Benjamin. The sooner he is beaten, the less chance he has to ride the coattails of Lady Luck and gain an opportunity to win the World Title. I'll be damned if I see Empire Pro follow the footsteps of MCW...
(He nods with confidence, balling his fists.)
Rocko Daymon
What it comes down to is this: I have more... I give more... and you can BET YOUR ASS that I want it more. I'm not going to let Dan Ryan stand in my way... and I definitely intend to finish off Adam Benjamin's overburdened ego. It's only a matter of time, before I'm in that final match at Black Dawn, with the World Title on the line. I'm going to blast through Empire Pro at full force, with the momentum of a speeding locomotive, and professional wrestling will never be the same.
Rocko Daymon, the Legend, moves on...
(Fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
(Fade in. On the studio, an Empire Pro backdrop sits at angle, fastened to a rig that would normally not be visible on camera, for a medium shot of the speaker standing before it. But we begin this with a long shot, showing the backdrop being suspended in the background, and nearby, at the edge of the stage, Rocko Daymon sits in a director's chair with his feet propped on someone's toolbox.)
(He is adorned in jeans, a black T-shirt with his red twist logo on the chest, and his favorite leather jacket. He sits, his legs propped up and crossed, and his cheek leaning against the knuckles of his right hand, the index finger stretched up the side of his face. He looks off into space, in thought.)
Rocko Daymon
I arrived in Pittsburgh this morning, with Caitlyn, my friend, and his wife... I stepped off the plane, in Pittsburgh International Airport, and you wouldn't believe what I saw.
There was a crowd there. I couldn't tell you how many people it was... a hundred or maybe more. And as soon as I stepped off the plane, they began cheering. The held up the signs, and the t-shirts. They started chanting my name. I was so suprised, I didn't know how to react at first.
It's been a long while since I've had some followers after I had been out for so long, but little by little, more fans keep coming on to my side. And it really touched me to see everybody there at the airport.
(He pauses for a beat. The camera slowly tracks in so he may fill more of the frame.)
Rocko Daymon
So naturally, I came up to them, shook hands, signed autographs...
(He looks up with a smile, shaking his right hand in the air.)
Rocko Daymon
And boy... is my right hand tired. When you sign you name so many times, it really cramps up the muscles. But nevertheless, Caitlyn and I stayed with the crowd until every last fan who drove through the snow to meet us there was pleased. Then we came here, to the arena.
But while at the airport, something caught my eye. One fan held up a sign. No names, or pictures, or logos or anything... just one simple phrase. You know what it said?
"The Legend Lives On."
(He looks away, slowly nodding his head.)
Rocko Daymon
Over the past couple weeks, I've done a lot of thinking over the definition of legend. When I came back to wrestling... I was convinced that I had a long way to go. I looked at guys like DreamMaker, and Kendall Codine, and even one of my opponents this week, Dan Ryan... and I thought to myself, "THESE guys are true wrestling legends... but what do I have to do to be on their level?"
And after these past couple weeks, by looking into the crowd, and seeing my fans... I realized that I was wrong, with what I thought a legend was. I look at guys like DreamMaker and Codine... DreamMaker, whose name happens to sit on a roster for months, but doesn't wrestle the entire time. Codine, who makes a glamorous return to the ring every year or so, and lasts for about a week or two.
These guys have walked the walk... but I realize that a legend isn't simply a guy who does great things and merely fades from existence. A legend pushes on, continuing to do great things... continuing to improve, and wow the fans. A legend lives on, forever.
(One single nod.)
Rocko Daymon
I am a wrestling legend... cause I have done many great things in my career, and I continue to do so. The fans have never lost faith, nor have I. No matter what is said, every minute I spend in the ring, before my injury and since my return, has been spent busting my ass, putting the hurt on my opponent, and making them EARN victory.
I have made a lot of mistakes, yes... and because of those last-minute mistakes, I have lost matches. But I am a man who grows. In all of my five years, there have been many times where I have been beaten... but I always come back in the rematch, with something to prove. And I never fail to prove it. My opponents, always blinded by the impression that history repeats itself, never see it coming. For that reason, when it comes to comebacks... the odds are always in the favor of the underdog, Rochester Vincent Daymon.
(He looks into the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
This week, I once again have something to prove... this time, to Adam Benjamin. I'm going to prove that mistakes are never repeated, and lightning never strikes twice. While Adam Benjamin has found confidence in his abilities from his lucky last-second counter in our last meeting, I have been busting my ass in the gym, training against numerous technical experts, doing anything and everything I can to make sure when I fight Adam Benjamin the second time, I will be better prepared, and I will overcome this time around.
No mistakes... no counters... just my mettle and motivation against his own. And I'm confident... I have reason to be.
(He lets those words sink in, as he pauses for a long moment, then speaks again.)
Rocko Daymon
There was a time when Adam Benjamin used to respect me, before, and after our last match. When we were scheduled to team up against Karl Brown and Christian Sands, he even admitted that he was 100% confident that we would win. He said, after fighting me, and knowing what level of talent I was able to dish out in the ring, there was no way we could lose.
But somewhere, between then and now, Karl Brown had a change of heart. What he says now completely contradicts what he said during the final week of MCW. And for that reason?
Well, there is no reason. There's no way anybody could explain it rationally. My guess is that something in his head simply snapped once he realized that his first title reign had come to an end due to his failure to secure himself as the federation's first true icon. Now, everything's warped and contradictory in his head. Facts are jumbled around and opinions have been drastically altered. Perhaps its a last ditch attempt to lower my confidence. In that case, it's a very weak attempt.
(He shakes his head.)
Rocko Daymon
I really don't know what to say. One day, Adam Benjamin glorifies me as one of the greatest wrestlers ever, and the next, he spits on me like a dog. I can't explain why, but I guess he just woke up one day and decided to be a Grade A assh*le for his own personal enjoyment.
(Shakes his head again and shrugs.)
Rocko Daymon
Adam Benjamin has lately thrown out a string of promos, with jumbled messages that... to me, don't make any sense. In every one of them, he tries to bring across the message that he is better than me. And over the week, I've been asking him where he gets this idea... and he has so far presented nothing more than FOUR major arguments...
He is from the United Kingdom... he has beaten me before... he is the former MCW Champion... and he has accomplished more than me in terms of careers.
Through this promo, I'm going to show how every one of these points is absolutely moot, and don't clearly PROVE how Adam Benjamin is the better wrestler, nor will it prove why he will survive this three-way dance at Aggression, win next week's match, and go on to become Empire Pro's first World Champion.
(He clears his throat.)
Rocko Daymon
First, there's this issue with his coming from England. I asked him to give me the names of all the great wrestlers who hail from England. He gave his own, Karl Brown, and Max Blackshire's. And those are three worthy names... but three, in the entire professional wrestling industry. Three doesn't cut it in my book... I expected many more.
And for the record, Adam... I have wrestled and beaten Karl Brown, since my return. It was my redebut into wrestling, remember? Max Blackshire has done very little since the death of his brother--whom you neglected to mention, by the way, cause Cyrus Blackshire was one of the finest professional wrestlers I've ever seen in my illustrious career.
And as for yourself? Heh... well that's the point of this promo isn't it?
(He looks off, silent for a moment, squinting his eyes and shaking his head in wonder.)
Rocko Daymon
I know foreign origin has a lot to do with a professional wrestler's personality, and wrestling style. You always hear about the technical prowess of the Canadians... the luche-libres down south of the border... the hardcore martial artists of Japan and the Asian-Pacific regions. But wrestlers from England?
Can't say there are many that stand out in my mind... and believe me, I would know. I have wrestled around the entire globe for a good five years of my life. I could pull out my passport, and name a common wrestling style for every country I have a stamp for. Suffice to say, nothing truly stands out in England in the wrestling world.
The jury's still out to determine whether or not you truly are a "better" wrestler, Adam... but the evidence surely doesn't lie in that rock out in the ocean. Let's move on.
(He looks off stage and makes a gesture. A second later, someone from off camera hands him a bottle of water.)
Rocko Daymon
Next, we come to this issue about our previous match. Now I'm not going to deny that you won, and it was a clean pin. But I do feel you miss what truly mattered. I kept up with you through that entire match, Adam. In fact, I dominated. If it wasn't for that crucial mistake I made in the last few seconds of the match, I would won. But like I said before, I do not repeat mistakes. I never have, in my entire five years of professional wrestling, and I never will.
Try to look at the facts, Adam. You spent that entire match dishing out everything you could, doing anything to try and overpower me. But at every turn, you got shot down, so much that you JUST BARELY came out with the win. You didn't even come close to hitting me with your finisher. With that said, how do you expect to pull it off this time around? Or next week, for that matter, if you're luck enough to survive this round?
(He pauses for a beat.)
Rocko Daymon
I think your inexperience causes you to doubt the power of the situation. You see, I look back on your short career... and while you have won quite a few matches, most of them were one-shot deals. Every week, you go up against a different opponent. You haven't had many rematches or feuds thus far. But that changes now, cause for the first time, you fight an opponent for the SECOND time. It's time you learned that history never repeats itself--I alone am proof of that statement. You win some and lose some... but ultimately, it depends on the situation.
For example, once, a few years ago, I had a bitter feud against another wrestler. We fought of pair of matches. He won the first, and I won the rematch. Now you'd think... by Adam Benjamin's logic, if he won the first match, he would automatically be the "better wrestler", am I right? So how is it that he didn't succeed in upholding that image in our second match?
You know why? Because he was cocky... he thought he could do the same thing twice. And that arrogance, the very same we've seen from Adam Benjamin all this week, cause him to lose that match. In addition to that, I improved. I learned from my mistakes and went back to the gym, worked out the kinks, then stepped back into the ring with something to prove.
(He smiles.)
Rocko Daymon
And I proved it... which explains why I am a former SCW World Champion.
But what this all means is that clearly, Adam Benjamin's lucky break in the first round of the Battleground Countdown tournament is NOT evidence that he is the better wrestler. He is quick to forget that not once in that entire match did he assuredly have control of everything, or have any remarkable spots. I, on the other hand, walked into that ring and did everything I promised I would do, which Adam Benjamin foolishly disregards. I did everything I said... except win.
All because of that one mistake. And every time I look back, that memory comes glaring into my face. The only way I can make up for that mistake is to survive this match... to overshadow Adam Benjamin's performance, or eliminate him, or do SOMETHING that leaves a significant mark in the minds of the fans and the wrestlers involved.
In conclusion, yes, he won... but that doesn't make him any better in the ring.
(Snapping the seal off of his bottle of water, Rocko unscrews the lid off, takes a gush, swallows it down, and turns back to the camera.)
Rocko Daymon
Now we touch upon the MCW issue. Adam Benjamin was the federation's one and only champion, during its short-lived tenure, and he busted his ass to get that title. That's all fine and dandy... but what does that mean to me? We're in Empire Pro, now. New talent and new challenges. Overall, it's a whole new game for Adam Benjamin. If you look at GXW, where he's been for MANY MONTHS, mind you, he's accomplished... absolutely nothing. Until he match against Dan Ryan, he was basically unknown. But the second he takes a belt in another fed, where there is, shall we say, a smaller field of competition, he suddenly feels as though he was one of the greatest wrestlers ever.
Adam, if being MCW champion is proof of your greatness, then explain to me why you are nothing more than a midcard stain in GXW? On second thought, I'll explain it myself. You see, GXW is a federation with a lot of talent to go through before you can earn your shot at the big time. I heard the closest you got to anything there was a couple shots at the Television Title, both of which you lost. But you see, MCW had less of a roster, not to mention had no current champion to hold the title. How many opponents did you fight before you took that title? Three? Four?
Crap, anybody with wrestling talent could get an easy streak of three or four wins. That's the beauty of a tournament. Look at Battleground Countdown... do you think Boogie Smallz is naturally better than everybody involved in that tournament because he won? What I'm trying to say, Adam, is that winning a tournament made you a champion... but it doesn't really compare to doing it the old-fashioned way. Try working your way up the ladder, fighting on for several months, until you FINALLY earn your spot in the main event, against the champion. Maybe THEN... I might consider you as a real heavy-hitter. But as it stands, winning a tournament, though impressive, proves nothing. I wasn't in that tournament, but who knows... if I was, maybe things would have turned out differently.
(He takes another sip.)
Rocko Daymon
And you're still clinging to the idea that if MCW was still open, you would still be champion. IF... they were still open. But haven't you realized that the reason why they closed is because you WERE the champion? I explained this all to you already, but you're doding the facts. You see, being MCW's World Champion meant more than defending that belt on a weekly basis. It meant being an icon... entertaining the audience, and making them want to come back to see more. Sure, you were doing pretty well in the ring... but you had no personality, or anything that made the fans appreciate you.
As a result, little by little, they started tuning out. Ticket sales were dropping. Eventually, Bolich just decided to pull the plug. Everything was doing SO well until the moment you won the title. And from there, everything went on a downward spiral. Can we see a trend, there?
Fact of the matter is, you won the title by being presented a small challenge... and you didn't know what to do with it. You simply figured by winning matches, everything would be okay, and you could keep the belt. But there's more to being the World Champion than that, Adam. And because you didn't see that, MCW closed down, and stripped you of your belt. But the way I see it, you unconciously threw away that title. Getting beaten by someone is one thing, but when you let down the championship and the entire federation by simply not having the know how... that's another. That's just pretty damn stupid.
(He cocks his eyebrow, and takes another sip, and continues.)
Rocko Daymon
So you're British... you beat me once... you won a title... and none of that yet proves exactly WHY you are a better wrestler. You're running out of options here, Adam... and we have one more to touch on. You claim that in the short time you have been involved in professional wrestling, you have accomplished more than I ever have.
First and foremost... exactly what timeframe are you thinking in? Are you saying you've accomplished than me since my return, or in my entire career? If it's the latter, then I can assure you with argument, you are wrong. I am a former World Champion, as are you... only I held onto my title thrice as long as you held onto yours, not to mention I've held onto a variety of other championships in my five year tenure. Even if you argue that you were never pinned for your title, do you really believe you could have held onto it for half a year? I don't think you understand what a challenge that is. I was booked in the main event, week after week, for six months, against all comers. I defended my title against people who were willing to do ANYTHING to win, and I succeeded, until one guy finally got the idea to use the same strategy as Christian Sands from last week, and take that belt from me.
You were doing well during your short World Championship tenure in MCW, but as history clearly shows, no federation would stay open long enough for you to go past the six month mark I've made. Looking at you, I really don't see a guy who can withstand the same sort of challenges I went through years ago. You're just too cocky and inexperienced... you wouldn't have had a hope in hell. So in summary, you don't even come close to being equal to what I've accomplished. I tip the scale phenomenally, if you look back through those five years.
(He eyes the bottle, decides he's not thirsty, and simply sets it aside.)
Rocko Daymon
So maybe you were saying, you have accomplished more than me in your career than I have since I've returned. Well yes, that's true... you've been around for almost a year, but I've only been wrestling since November. Last I checked, Adam... you didn't win any titles or championships within three months of signing up with Global Xtreme Wrestling. In fact, you haven't done practically ANYTHING in GXW. Winning MCW's World Title was your only spot on the map, out of an entire year. I think maybe I need a little time to catch up before I can be judged on what I've accomplished compared to you. You may be more established at this point... but that doesn't make you better in terms of talent.
But who knows... come November 2004, you may be looking at your own career, wondering why you still haven't done anything more than win a world title from a short-lived federation, while you look at me, and see all I've gained from my effort and hard work. Try not to look suprised when that time rolls around, cause I told you so in the first place.
(He pauses for a beat, wearing half a grin.)
Rocko Daymon
So let's see... I have proven thus far that in spite of your British heritage, your recent win over me, your short-lived title reign as MCW's World Champion, and your "accomplishments" in the past year, you are clearly wrong with everything you try to say. I know you use these "facts" to boost your ego in any way you can, but I'm afraid I have to burst your bubble.
With that said, it's time to get to the Rocko Fact of the Day: Beyond a doubt... you are NOT a better wrestler than me. And just through talking, I have proven it. Imagine what it's going to be like at Aggression, when I prove it again in the ring.
With this conclusion drawn, let me inform you that I will NOT be cutting any more promos until Aggression... because, quite honestly, I have better things to do with my time. But before you run out to make your response within the next two hours, listen to me now, and listen well. There's nothing you could say that can prove you as the better professional wrestler... not in my eyes, or in the eyes of the fans, the other wrestlers, or the executives. In the end, it's not about what you say... it's about what you SHOW. With that said, it's going to be what I show you in the ring which ultimately determines who the better wrestler is.
(He nods confidently, taking his feet off the toolbox and leaning forward.)
Rocko Daymon
Ever since my return, Adam Benjamin, the fans and the federations have had high expectations. And I've delivered everything they expected, and more. You see things in win-loss ratios... but that sort of vision is what cause MCW to close down, with your ignorance. I see things based on performance. I see the match we competed in, and in spite of being pinned in the end, I see all the great moments where I had the fans cheering, not because I'm the good guy... but because I can entertain better than you. Not only that, I can compete. I do it so well, even you were robbed of a glorious win.
Let me tell you something, Adam... professional wrestling is not made by who wins and who loses. It's made by the men who sweat and bleed in that ring... who give it their all, no matter what happens in the end. If the fans wanted to see winners and losers, we wouldn't even have shows like Aggression or Revolution; results would simply be posted on a bulletin board somewhere, with a W beside the winner's name. But professional wrestling has a lot more depth than that. It's all about the matches that take place in the ring... and what happens there.
It just so happens, Adam, that I do just a little bit more. Perhaps I haven't been graced with any rewards for my efforts yet... but I'm not here to win. I'm here to make you bleed, and scream in pain... and to hear the fans cheer me on. I make my opponents fear for their lives when they're in the ring with me. How could you judge me on results alone, when in every match I have been in, I have delivered this? Karl Brown... Corey Thomas... Christian Sands... even you, Adam. You've all walked the same road, and were chilled to the bone.
(Pauses a beat.)
Rocko Daymon
But I'm going to take it a step further this week, at Aggression... simply because I can, and because I want you to realize something. When we step in the ring, with Dan Ryan... I'm not ONLY going to make you feel pain. I've got something better to prove... overall, I am a better professional wrestler than you, and I can prove it in the ring. And considering you only see things depending on who gets the pinfall, then I'm going for that too.
I'm not only going to beat the living hell out of you in the ring, Adam... I'm going to pin your shoulders onto the mat, to show you that even though you beat me the first time, comebacks are what do. I'm going to prove that I can take a close defeat, use it as motivation, and turn it into a solid victory over the man who just barely beat me last time we met. I'm going to humble you, and in doing so, maybe you'll see a bit more about the industry that you think you know so well.
At Aggression... you will bleed, you will hurt, and you will lose. If Dan Ryan is watching, then he can be assured that he'll make it as far as the second round. I've made my choice of who to take with me in this tournament, and it sure as hell isn't Adam Benjamin. The sooner he is beaten, the less chance he has to ride the coattails of Lady Luck and gain an opportunity to win the World Title. I'll be damned if I see Empire Pro follow the footsteps of MCW...
(He nods with confidence, balling his fists.)
Rocko Daymon
What it comes down to is this: I have more... I give more... and you can BET YOUR ASS that I want it more. I'm not going to let Dan Ryan stand in my way... and I definitely intend to finish off Adam Benjamin's overburdened ego. It's only a matter of time, before I'm in that final match at Black Dawn, with the World Title on the line. I'm going to blast through Empire Pro at full force, with the momentum of a speeding locomotive, and professional wrestling will never be the same.
Rocko Daymon, the Legend, moves on...
(Fade to black.)
SCENE ENDS
Out of breath yet?
"And he sat high above them as they scurried in futile attempts to thwart him. And he watched waiting, until finally he swept their hopes and dreams away with one crushing blow...."
--------
FADE IN
Houston, TX
Reliant Stadium
January 27th, 2004
DAN RYAN standing in Budweiser plaza, a huge Super Bowl XXXVIII banner hanging behind him in the distance.
Ryan turns to glance at the camera as a vendor hands him a large sausage on a stick. Bands play in the background as festivities for Superbowl week's media day continue on.
Ryan gestures the camera to follow him as he turns, revealing an oversized David Carr jersey, No. 8.
We pull to the side in an out of the way nook of the plaza and stop in front of the Gallery Furniture Entrance to the stadium.
Ryan: "Hey guys. I thought I might check in with the two of you before I take off for Pittsburgh. I mean, I've just been so busy not training all week that I almost lost track of time."
"I mean, really....heaven forbid I don't pipe in and give you two a reason for living."
"Still, like the old song says.....if you can't be with the one you love, honey.....love the one you're with...."
Smile....
"And naturally the two of you had a regular love-in all week. I mean.....yakety yakety yakety yakety yakety yak......"
"I'd say 'don't talk back'....but that doesn't seem very likely does it?"
"Damn Rocko....how does that little wife of yours stand you? Does she burn your ears yapping the same way you burn up everyone elses? I'm starting to wonder who the woman is in your relationship, cuz I've honestly never heard a man talk so much."
"I wonder, does it do your heart good to know that I have absolutely no interest in this match? Does it make you all tingly inside that I've already made it abundantly clear that I have no intention of participating in Paul Freeman's little joyfest? I'll bet you got all happy down in your special places, didn't ya Rocko? You probably took Caitlyn out for a night on the town the likes of which she hasn't known since the night of that Superior Title win oh....what.....about seven thousand years ago? Hell, you might've even sprung for the twelve dollar wine this time instead of the usual seven dollar....just for funsies."
"And I don't blame ya, Daymon. You have reason to be optimistic. What I've basically done is insure that you'll be moving on to round two. By taking myself out of the equation, what we'll have is a fine little technical showdown between two fine upstanding athletes with something to prove. No need for an already established star-type to step in the middle of it and muck it up. After all, wouldn't my power only repertoire just throw the whole thing off?"
Ryan allows a smirk...
"Come now, Rocko....what tapes of my work have you been watching? Power only? My background is in amateur wrestling my friend. I'll admit, sometimes throwing a little guy like you ten feet into the air can be fun....but I can just as easily turn you into the worlds smallest human pretzel. That's the beauty of what I do and why I'm as successful as I am, Rockster."
"But this really is all such a moot point anyway isn't it? Like I said....this is all about you and Mr. Benjamin."
"And what about Adam Benjamin, my friend from across the pond?"
"Getting a bit too big for our knickers aren't we, Adam?"
"You know, if I were you I might not be talking so big toward someone that could just as easily snap your leg like a twig as look at you. I listened to the early arguing back and forth about the nature of our first encounter, Adam....and I can't help but insert one little fact that you failed to bring up."
"I was being nice to you."
"I wrestled a nice clean match....and you did alright for yourself. And when I had had enough, it was kick-wham-powerbomb.....and goodnight for little Adam Benjamin."
"Let's be perfectly honest here. Neither you or Rocko have the slightest possible chance of ever pinning me in your lifetimes. So truthfully, it's for both of your own good that I kindly step back and allow you two to strut your stuff. It serves your interests, it serves mine....and more importantly it saves me the further effort it would require to embarrass the two of you myself."
"But hey, I'll be in attendance. I have business to conduct. And who knows....maybe Freeman comes to his senses and sees things my way."
"Well....probably not."
Smile....as Ryan takes a huge chunk out of his food with a quick bite....
"See you two around Pittsburgh, fellas. I'm just about ready to throw down those cards you're calling for, Adam.....and Rocko.....the true legend.....eats on....."
Ryan takes another bite and tips his cap.....then walks off screen.....FADE OUT....
"And he sat high above them as they scurried in futile attempts to thwart him. And he watched waiting, until finally he swept their hopes and dreams away with one crushing blow...."
--------
FADE IN
Houston, TX
Reliant Stadium
January 27th, 2004
DAN RYAN standing in Budweiser plaza, a huge Super Bowl XXXVIII banner hanging behind him in the distance.
Ryan turns to glance at the camera as a vendor hands him a large sausage on a stick. Bands play in the background as festivities for Superbowl week's media day continue on.
Ryan gestures the camera to follow him as he turns, revealing an oversized David Carr jersey, No. 8.
We pull to the side in an out of the way nook of the plaza and stop in front of the Gallery Furniture Entrance to the stadium.
Ryan: "Hey guys. I thought I might check in with the two of you before I take off for Pittsburgh. I mean, I've just been so busy not training all week that I almost lost track of time."
"I mean, really....heaven forbid I don't pipe in and give you two a reason for living."
"Still, like the old song says.....if you can't be with the one you love, honey.....love the one you're with...."
Smile....
"And naturally the two of you had a regular love-in all week. I mean.....yakety yakety yakety yakety yakety yak......"
"I'd say 'don't talk back'....but that doesn't seem very likely does it?"
"Damn Rocko....how does that little wife of yours stand you? Does she burn your ears yapping the same way you burn up everyone elses? I'm starting to wonder who the woman is in your relationship, cuz I've honestly never heard a man talk so much."
"I wonder, does it do your heart good to know that I have absolutely no interest in this match? Does it make you all tingly inside that I've already made it abundantly clear that I have no intention of participating in Paul Freeman's little joyfest? I'll bet you got all happy down in your special places, didn't ya Rocko? You probably took Caitlyn out for a night on the town the likes of which she hasn't known since the night of that Superior Title win oh....what.....about seven thousand years ago? Hell, you might've even sprung for the twelve dollar wine this time instead of the usual seven dollar....just for funsies."
"And I don't blame ya, Daymon. You have reason to be optimistic. What I've basically done is insure that you'll be moving on to round two. By taking myself out of the equation, what we'll have is a fine little technical showdown between two fine upstanding athletes with something to prove. No need for an already established star-type to step in the middle of it and muck it up. After all, wouldn't my power only repertoire just throw the whole thing off?"
Ryan allows a smirk...
"Come now, Rocko....what tapes of my work have you been watching? Power only? My background is in amateur wrestling my friend. I'll admit, sometimes throwing a little guy like you ten feet into the air can be fun....but I can just as easily turn you into the worlds smallest human pretzel. That's the beauty of what I do and why I'm as successful as I am, Rockster."
"But this really is all such a moot point anyway isn't it? Like I said....this is all about you and Mr. Benjamin."
"And what about Adam Benjamin, my friend from across the pond?"
"Getting a bit too big for our knickers aren't we, Adam?"
"You know, if I were you I might not be talking so big toward someone that could just as easily snap your leg like a twig as look at you. I listened to the early arguing back and forth about the nature of our first encounter, Adam....and I can't help but insert one little fact that you failed to bring up."
"I was being nice to you."
"I wrestled a nice clean match....and you did alright for yourself. And when I had had enough, it was kick-wham-powerbomb.....and goodnight for little Adam Benjamin."
"Let's be perfectly honest here. Neither you or Rocko have the slightest possible chance of ever pinning me in your lifetimes. So truthfully, it's for both of your own good that I kindly step back and allow you two to strut your stuff. It serves your interests, it serves mine....and more importantly it saves me the further effort it would require to embarrass the two of you myself."
"But hey, I'll be in attendance. I have business to conduct. And who knows....maybe Freeman comes to his senses and sees things my way."
"Well....probably not."
Smile....as Ryan takes a huge chunk out of his food with a quick bite....
"See you two around Pittsburgh, fellas. I'm just about ready to throw down those cards you're calling for, Adam.....and Rocko.....the true legend.....eats on....."
Ryan takes another bite and tips his cap.....then walks off screen.....FADE OUT....
Culture Club
FADE IN
Classical music fills the air as we see a beautiful study. Oak furniture decorates the room, highlighted by a large desk in the center.
Behind the desk sits Dan Ryan. On his face are a pair of reading glasses and hanging from his lips, a pipe.
Ryan's eyes arch slightly upward as the scene begins.
Ryan: "I should like to take this oppurtunity to share a life-long pursuit of mine....one which anyone who knows me would be easily able to share with you. The vice I speak of, naturally is my love of literature."
"And as such, with Mr. Daymon having recently regaled us all with a passage from Beowulf, I thought it a disservice to the piece to not present it in context so that we might gain a true portrait of the meaning of this masterful text."
"Therefore I, Dan Ryan.....now humbly present to you the entire text of Beowulf...in the original Old English."
"I will begin.....now."
"LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled....
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
to say in sooth, no son of the halls,
no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!
Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings,
leader beloved, and long he ruled
in fame with all folk, since his father had gone
away from the world, till awoke an heir,
haughty Healfdene, who held through life,
sage and sturdy, the Scyldings glad.
Then, one after one, there woke to him,
to the chieftain of clansmen, children four:
Heorogar, then Hrothgar, then Halga brave;
and I heard that -- was --'s queen,
the Heathoscylfing's helpmate dear.
To Hrothgar was given such glory of war,
such honor of combat, that all his kin
obeyed him gladly till great grew his band
of youthful comrades. It came in his mind
to bid his henchmen a hall uprear,
a master mead-house, mightier far
than ever was seen by the sons of earth,
and within it, then, to old and young
he would all allot that the Lord had sent him,
save only the land and the lives of his men.
Wide, I heard, was the work commanded,
for many a tribe this mid-earth round,
to fashion the folkstead. It fell, as he ordered,
in rapid achievement that ready it stood there,
of halls the noblest: Heorot he named it
whose message had might in many a land.
Not reckless of promise, the rings he dealt,
treasure at banquet: there towered the hall,
high, gabled wide, the hot surge waiting
of furious flame. Nor far was that day
when father and son-in-law stood in feud
for warfare and hatred that woke again.
With envy and anger an evil spirit
endured the dole in his dark abode,
that he heard each day the din of revel
high in the hall: there harps rang out,
clear song of the singer. He sang who knew
tales of the early time of man,
how the Almighty made the earth,
fairest fields enfolded by water,
set, triumphant, sun and moon
for a light to lighten the land-dwellers,
and braided bright the breast of earth
with limbs and leaves, made life for all
of mortal beings that breathe and move.
So lived the clansmen in cheer and revel
a winsome life, till one began
to fashion evils, that field of hell.
Grendel this monster grim was called,
march-riever mighty, in moorland living,
in fen and fastness; fief of the giants
the hapless wight a while had kept
since the Creator his exile doomed.
On kin of Cain was the killing avenged
by sovran God for slaughtered Abel.
Ill fared his feud, and far was he driven,
for the slaughter's sake, from sight of men.
Of Cain awoke all that woful breed,
Etins and elves and evil-spirits,
as well as the giants that warred with God
weary while: but their wage was paid them!
WENT he forth to find at fall of night
that haughty house, and heed wherever
the Ring-Danes, outrevelled, to rest had gone.
Found within it the atheling band
asleep after feasting and fearless of sorrow,
of human hardship. Unhallowed wight,
grim and greedy, he grasped betimes,
wrathful, reckless, from resting-places,
thirty of the thanes, and thence he rushed
fain of his fell spoil, faring homeward,
laden with slaughter, his lair to seek.
Then at the dawning, as day was breaking,
the might of Grendel to men was known;
then after wassail was wail uplifted,
loud moan in the morn. The mighty chief,
atheling excellent, unblithe sat,
labored in woe for the loss of his thanes,
when once had been traced the trail of the fiend,
spirit accurst: too cruel that sorrow,
too long, too loathsome. Not late the respite;
with night returning, anew began
ruthless murder; he recked no whit,
firm in his guilt, of the feud and crime.
They were easy to find who elsewhere sought
in room remote their rest at night,
bed in the bowers, when that bale was shown,
was seen in sooth, with surest token, --
the hall-thane's hate. Such held themselves
far and fast who the fiend outran!
Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill
one against all; until empty stood
that lordly building, and long it bode so.
Twelve years' tide the trouble he bore,
sovran of Scyldings, sorrows in plenty,
boundless cares. There came unhidden
tidings true to the tribes of men,
in sorrowful songs, how ceaselessly Grendel
harassed Hrothgar, what hate he bore him,
what murder and massacre, many a year,
feud unfading, -- refused consent
to deal with any of Daneland's earls,
make pact of peace, or compound for gold:
still less did the wise men ween to get
great fee for the feud from his fiendish hands.
But the evil one ambushed old and young
death-shadow dark, and dogged them still,
lured, or lurked in the livelong night
of misty moorlands: men may say not
where the haunts of these Hell-Runes be.
Such heaping of horrors the hater of men,
lonely roamer, wrought unceasing,
harassings heavy. O'er Heorot he lorded,
gold-bright hall, in gloomy nights;
and ne'er could the prince approach his throne,
-- 'twas judgment of God, -- or have joy in his hall.
Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings'-friend,
heart-rending misery. Many nobles
sat assembled, and searched out counsel
how it were best for bold-hearted men
against harassing terror to try their hand.
Whiles they vowed in their heathen fanes
altar-offerings, asked with words
that the slayer-of-souls would succor give them
for the pain of their people. Their practice this,
their heathen hope; 'twas Hell they thought of
in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not,
Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord,
nor Heaven's-Helmet heeded they ever,
Wielder-of-Wonder. -- Woe for that man
who in harm and hatred hales his soul
to fiery embraces; -- nor favor nor change
awaits he ever. But well for him
that after death-day may draw to his Lord,
and friendship find in the Father's arms!
THUS seethed unceasing the son of Healfdene
with the woe of these days; not wisest men
assuaged his sorrow; too sore the anguish,
loathly and long, that lay on his folk,
most baneful of burdens and bales of the night.
This heard in his home Hygelac's thane,
great among Geats, of Grendel's doings.
He was the mightiest man of valor
in that same day of this our life,
stalwart and stately. A stout wave-walker
he bade make ready. Yon battle-king, said he,
far o'er the swan-road he fain would seek,
the noble monarch who needed men!
The prince's journey by prudent folk
was little blamed, though they loved him dear;
they whetted the hero, and hailed good omens.
And now the bold one from bands of Geats
comrades chose, the keenest of warriors
e'er he could find; with fourteen men
the sea-wood he sought, and, sailor proved,
led them on to the land's confines.
Time had now flown; afloat was the ship,
boat under bluff. On board they climbed,
warriors ready; waves were churning
sea with sand; the sailors bore
on the breast of the bark their bright array,
their mail and weapons: the men pushed off,
on its willing way, the well-braced craft.
Then moved o'er the waters by might of the wind
that bark like a bird with breast of foam,
till in season due, on the second day,
the curved prow such course had run
that sailors now could see the land,
sea-cliffs shining, steep high hills,
headlands broad. Their haven was found,
their journey ended. Up then quickly
the Weders' clansmen climbed ashore,
anchored their sea-wood, with armor clashing
and gear of battle: God they thanked
for passing in peace o'er the paths of the sea.
Now saw from the cliff a Scylding clansman,
a warden that watched the water-side,
how they bore o'er the gangway glittering shields,
war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him
to know what manner of men they were.
Straight to the strand his steed he rode,
Hrothgar's henchman; with hand of might
he shook his spear, and spake in parley.
"Who are ye, then, ye armed men,
mailed folk, that yon mighty vessel
have urged thus over the ocean ways,
here o'er the waters? A warden I,
sentinel set o'er the sea-march here,
lest any foe to the folk of Danes
with harrying fleet should harm the land.
No aliens ever at ease thus bore them,
linden-wielders: yet word-of-leave
clearly ye lack from clansmen here,
my folk's agreement. -- A greater ne'er saw I
of warriors in world than is one of you, --
yon hero in harness! No henchman he
worthied by weapons, if witness his features,
his peerless presence! I pray you, though, tell
your folk and home, lest hence ye fare
suspect to wander your way as spies
in Danish land. Now, dwellers afar,
ocean-travellers, take from me
simple advice: the sooner the better
I hear of the country whence ye came."
To him the stateliest spake in answer;
the warriors' leader his word-hoard unlocked:--
"We are by kin of the clan of Geats,
and Hygelac's own hearth-fellows we.
To folk afar was my father known,
noble atheling, Ecgtheow named.
Full of winters, he fared away
aged from earth; he is honored still
through width of the world by wise men all.
To thy lord and liege in loyal mood
we hasten hither, to Healfdene's son,
people-protector: be pleased to advise us!
To that mighty-one come we on mickle errand,
to the lord of the Danes; nor deem I right
that aught be hidden. We hear -- thou knowest
if sooth it is -- the saying of men,
that amid the Scyldings a scathing monster,
dark ill-doer, in dusky nights
shows terrific his rage unmatched,
hatred and murder. To Hrothgar I
in greatness of soul would succor bring,
so the Wise-and-Brave may worst his foes, --
if ever the end of ills is fated,
of cruel contest, if cure shall follow,
and the boiling care-waves cooler grow;
else ever afterward anguish-days
he shall suffer in sorrow while stands in place
high on its hill that house unpeered!"
Astride his steed, the strand-ward answered,
clansman unquailing: "The keen-souled thane
must be skilled to sever and sunder duly
words and works, if he well intends.
I gather, this band is graciously bent
to the Scyldings' master. March, then, bearing
weapons and weeds the way I show you.
I will bid my men your boat meanwhile
to guard for fear lest foemen come, --
your new-tarred ship by shore of ocean
faithfully watching till once again
it waft o'er the waters those well-loved thanes,
-- winding-neck'd wood, -- to Weders' bounds,
heroes such as the hest of fate
shall succor and save from the shock of war."
They bent them to march, -- the boat lay still,
fettered by cable and fast at anchor,
broad-bosomed ship. -- Then shone the boars
over the cheek-guard; chased with gold,
keen and gleaming, guard it kept
o'er the man of war, as marched along
heroes in haste, till the hall they saw,
broad of gable and bright with gold:
that was the fairest, 'mid folk of earth,
of houses 'neath heaven, where Hrothgar lived,
and the gleam of it lightened o'er lands afar.
The sturdy shieldsman showed that bright
burg-of-the-boldest; bade them go
straightway thither; his steed then turned,
hardy hero, and hailed them thus:--
"Tis time that I fare from you. Father Almighty
in grace and mercy guard you well,
safe in your seekings. Seaward I go,
'gainst hostile warriors hold my watch."
STONE-BRIGHT the street: it showed the way
to the crowd of clansmen. Corselets glistened
hand-forged, hard; on their harness bright
the steel ring sang, as they strode along
in mail of battle, and marched to the hall.
There, weary of ocean, the wall along
they set their bucklers, their broad shields, down,
and bowed them to bench: the breastplates clanged,
war-gear of men; their weapons stacked,
spears of the seafarers stood together,
gray-tipped ash: that iron band
was worthily weaponed! -- A warrior proud
asked of the heroes their home and kin.
"Whence, now, bear ye burnished shields,
harness gray and helmets grim,
spears in multitude? Messenger, I,
Hrothgar's herald! Heroes so many
ne'er met I as strangers of mood so strong.
'Tis plain that for prowess, not plunged into exile,
for high-hearted valor, Hrothgar ye seek!"
Him the sturdy-in-war bespake with words,
proud earl of the Weders answer made,
hardy 'neath helmet:--"Hygelac's, we,
fellows at board; I am Beowulf named.
I am seeking to say to the son of Healfdene
this mission of mine, to thy master-lord,
the doughty prince, if he deign at all
grace that we greet him, the good one, now."
Wulfgar spake, the Wendles' chieftain,
whose might of mind to many was known,
his courage and counsel: "The king of Danes,
the Scyldings' friend, I fain will tell,
the Breaker-of-Rings, as the boon thou askest,
the famed prince, of thy faring hither,
and, swiftly after, such answer bring
as the doughty monarch may deign to give."
Hied then in haste to where Hrothgar sat
white-haired and old, his earls about him,
till the stout thane stood at the shoulder there
of the Danish king: good courtier he!
Wulfgar spake to his winsome lord:--
"Hither have fared to thee far-come men
o'er the paths of ocean, people of Geatland;
and the stateliest there by his sturdy band
is Beowulf named. This boon they seek,
that they, my master, may with thee
have speech at will: nor spurn their prayer
to give them hearing, gracious Hrothgar!
In weeds of the warrior worthy they,
methinks, of our liking; their leader most surely,
a hero that hither his henchmen has led."
HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings:--
"I knew him of yore in his youthful days;
his aged father was Ecgtheow named,
to whom, at home, gave Hrethel the Geat
his only daughter. Their offspring bold
fares hither to seek the steadfast friend.
And seamen, too, have said me this, --
who carried my gifts to the Geatish court,
thither for thanks, -- he has thirty men's
heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand,
the bold-in-battle. Blessed God
out of his mercy this man hath sent
to Danes of the West, as I ween indeed,
against horror of Grendel. I hope to give
the good youth gold for his gallant thought.
Be thou in haste, and bid them hither,
clan of kinsmen, to come before me;
and add this word, -- they are welcome guests
to folk of the Danes." [To the door of the hall
Wulfgar went] and the word declared:--
"To you this message my master sends,
East-Danes' king, that your kin he knows,
hardy heroes, and hails you all
welcome hither o'er waves of the sea!
Ye may wend your way in war-attire,
and under helmets Hrothgar greet;
but let here the battle-shields bide your parley,
and wooden war-shafts wait its end."
Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men,
brave band of thanes: some bode without,
battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief.
Then hied that troop where the herald led them,
under Heorot's roof: [the hero strode,]
hardy 'neath helm, till the hearth he neared.
Beowulf spake, -- his breastplate gleamed,
war-net woven by wit of the smith:--
"Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac's I,
kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty
have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds
I heard in my home-land heralded clear.
Seafarers say how stands this hall,
of buildings best, for your band of thanes
empty and idle, when evening sun
in the harbor of heaven is hidden away.
So my vassals advised me well, --
brave and wise, the best of men, --
O sovran Hrothgar, to seek thee here,
for my nerve and my might they knew full well.
Themselves had seen me from slaughter come
blood-flecked from foes, where five I bound,
and that wild brood worsted. I' the waves I slew
nicors by night, in need and peril
avenging the Weders, whose woe they sought, --
crushing the grim ones. Grendel now,
monster cruel, be mine to quell
in single battle! So, from thee,
thou sovran of the Shining-Danes,
Scyldings'-bulwark, a boon I seek, --
and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not,
O Warriors'-shield, now I've wandered far, --
that I alone with my liegemen here,
this hardy band, may Heorot purge!
More I hear, that the monster dire,
in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not;
hence shall I scorn -- so Hygelac stay,
king of my kindred, kind to me! --
brand or buckler to bear in the fight,
gold-colored targe: but with gripe alone
must I front the fiend and fight for life,
foe against foe. Then faith be his
in the doom of the Lord whom death shall take.
Fain, I ween, if the fight he win,
in this hall of gold my Geatish band
will he fearless eat, -- as oft before, --
my noblest thanes. Nor need'st thou then
to hide my head; for his shall I be,
dyed in gore, if death must take me;
and my blood-covered body he'll bear as prey,
ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely,
with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen:
no further for me need'st food prepare!
To Hygelac send, if Hild should take me,
best of war-weeds, warding my breast,
armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel
and work of Wayland. Fares Wyrd as she must."
HROTHGAR spake, the Scyldings'-helmet:--
"For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf,
to succor and save, thou hast sought us here.
Thy father's combat a feud enkindled
when Heatholaf with hand he slew
among the Wylfings; his Weder kin
for horror of fighting feared to hold him.
Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk,
over surge of ocean the Honor-Scyldings,
when first I was ruling the folk of Danes,
wielded, youthful, this widespread realm,
this hoard-hold of heroes. Heorogar was dead,
my elder brother, had breathed his last,
Healfdene's bairn: he was better than I!
Straightway the feud with fee I settled,
to the Wylfings sent, o'er watery ridges,
treasures olden: oaths he swore me.
Sore is my soul to say to any
of the race of man what ruth for me
in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought,
what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me,
my warriors wane; for Wyrd hath swept them
into Grendel's grasp. But God is able
this deadly foe from his deeds to turn!
Boasted full oft, as my beer they drank,
earls o'er the ale-cup, armed men,
that they would bide in the beer-hall here,
Grendel's attack with terror of blades.
Then was this mead-house at morning tide
dyed with gore, when the daylight broke,
all the boards of the benches blood-besprinkled,
gory the hall: I had heroes the less,
doughty dear-ones that death had reft.
-- But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words,
hardy hero, as heart shall prompt thee."
Gathered together, the Geatish men
in the banquet-hall on bench assigned,
sturdy-spirited, sat them down,
hardy-hearted. A henchman attended,
carried the carven cup in hand,
served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang
blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,
no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane.
UNFERTH spake, the son of Ecglaf,
who sat at the feet of the Scyldings' lord,
unbound the battle-runes. -- Beowulf's quest,
sturdy seafarer's, sorely galled him;
ever he envied that other men
should more achieve in middle-earth
of fame under heaven than he himself. --
"Art thou that Beowulf, Breca's rival,
who emulous swam on the open sea,
when for pride the pair of you proved the floods,
and wantonly dared in waters deep
to risk your lives? No living man,
or lief or loath, from your labor dire
could you dissuade, from swimming the main.
Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered,
with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured,
swam o'er the waters. Winter's storm
rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea
a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee,
had more of main! Him at morning-tide
billows bore to the Battling Reamas,
whence he hied to his home so dear
beloved of his liegemen, to land of Brondings,
fastness fair, where his folk he ruled,
town and treasure. In triumph o'er thee
Beanstan's bairn his boast achieved.
So ween I for thee a worse adventure
-- though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been,
in struggle grim, -- if Grendel's approach
thou darst await through the watch of night!"
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"What a deal hast uttered, dear my Unferth,
drunken with beer, of Breca now,
told of his triumph! Truth I claim it,
that I had more of might in the sea
than any man else, more ocean-endurance.
We twain had talked, in time of youth,
and made our boast, -- we were merely boys,
striplings still, -- to stake our lives
far at sea: and so we performed it.
Naked swords, as we swam along,
we held in hand, with hope to guard us
against the whales. Not a whit from me
could he float afar o'er the flood of waves,
haste o'er the billows; nor him I abandoned.
Together we twain on the tides abode
five nights full till the flood divided us,
churning waves and chillest weather,
darkling night, and the northern wind
ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge.
Now the wrath of the sea-fish rose apace;
yet me 'gainst the monsters my mailed coat,
hard and hand-linked, help afforded, --
battle-sark braided my breast to ward,
garnished with gold. There grasped me firm
and haled me to bottom the hated foe,
with grimmest gripe. 'Twas granted me, though,
to pierce the monster with point of sword,
with blade of battle: huge beast of the sea
was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine.
ME thus often the evil monsters
thronging threatened. With thrust of my sword,
the darling, I dealt them due return!
Nowise had they bliss from their booty then
to devour their victim, vengeful creatures,
seated to banquet at bottom of sea;
but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt,
on the edge of ocean up they lay,
put to sleep by the sword. And since, by them
on the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folk
are never molested. -- Light from east,
came bright God's beacon; the billows sank,
so that I saw the sea-cliffs high,
windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth
earl undoomed if he doughty be!
And so it came that I killed with my sword
nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles
ne'er heard I a harder 'neath heaven's dome,
nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man!
Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch,
though spent with swimming. The sea upbore me,
flood of the tide, on Finnish land,
the welling waters. No wise of thee
have I heard men tell such terror of falchions,
bitter battle. Breca ne'er yet,
not one of you pair, in the play of war
such daring deed has done at all
with bloody brand, -- I boast not of it! --
though thou wast the bane of thy brethren dear,
thy closest kin, whence curse of hell
awaits thee, well as thy wit may serve!
For I say in sooth, thou son of Ecglaf,
never had Grendel these grim deeds wrought,
monster dire, on thy master dear,
in Heorot such havoc, if heart of thine
were as battle-bold as thy boast is loud!
But he has found no feud will happen;
from sword-clash dread of your Danish clan
he vaunts him safe, from the Victor-Scyldings.
He forces pledges, favors none
of the land of Danes, but lustily murders,
fights and feasts, nor feud he dreads
from Spear-Dane men. But speedily now
shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats,
shall bid him battle. Blithe to mead
go he that listeth, when light of dawn
this morrow morning o'er men of earth,
ether-robed sun from the south shall beam!"
Joyous then was the Jewel-giver,
hoar-haired, war-brave; help awaited
the Bright-Danes' prince, from Beowulf hearing,
folk's good shepherd, such firm resolve.
Then was laughter of liegemen loud resounding
with winsome words. Came Wealhtheow forth,
queen of Hrothgar, heedful of courtesy,
gold-decked, greeting the guests in hall;
and the high-born lady handed the cup
first to the East-Danes' heir and warden,
bade him be blithe at the beer-carouse,
the land's beloved one. Lustily took he
banquet and beaker, battle-famed king.
Through the hall then went the Helmings' Lady,
to younger and older everywhere
carried the cup, till come the moment
when the ring-graced queen, the royal-hearted,
to Beowulf bore the beaker of mead.
She greeted the Geats' lord, God she thanked,
in wisdom's words, that her will was granted,
that at last on a hero her hope could lean
for comfort in terrors. The cup he took,
hardy-in-war, from Wealhtheow's hand,
and answer uttered the eager-for-combat.
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"This was my thought, when my thanes and I
bent to the ocean and entered our boat,
that I would work the will of your people
fully, or fighting fall in death,
in fiend's gripe fast. I am firm to do
an earl's brave deed, or end the days
of this life of mine in the mead-hall here."
Well these words to the woman seemed,
Beowulf's battle-boast. -- Bright with gold
the stately dame by her spouse sat down.
Again, as erst, began in hall
warriors' wassail and words of power,
the proud-band's revel, till presently
the son of Healfdene hastened to seek
rest for the night; he knew there waited
fight for the fiend in that festal hall,
when the sheen of the sun they saw no more,
and dusk of night sank darkling nigh,
and shadowy shapes came striding on,
wan under welkin. The warriors rose.
Man to man, he made harangue,
Hrothgar to Beowulf, bade him hail,
let him wield the wine hall: a word he added:--
"Never to any man erst I trusted,
since I could heave up hand and shield,
this noble Dane-Hall, till now to thee.
Have now and hold this house unpeered;
remember thy glory; thy might declare;
watch for the foe! No wish shall fail thee
if thou bidest the battle with bold-won life."
THEN Hrothgar went with his hero-train,
defence-of-Scyldings, forth from hall;
fain would the war-lord Wealhtheow seek,
couch of his queen. The King-of-Glory
against this Grendel a guard had set,
so heroes heard, a hall-defender,
who warded the monarch and watched for the monster.
In truth, the Geats' prince gladly trusted
his mettle, his might, the mercy of God!
Cast off then his corselet of iron,
helmet from head; to his henchman gave, --
choicest of weapons, -- the well-chased sword,
bidding him guard the gear of battle.
Spake then his Vaunt the valiant man,
Beowulf Geat, ere the bed be sought:--
"Of force in fight no feebler I count me,
in grim war-deeds, than Grendel deems him.
Not with the sword, then, to sleep of death
his life will I give, though it lie in my power.
No skill is his to strike against me,
my shield to hew though he hardy be,
bold in battle; we both, this night,
shall spurn the sword, if he seek me here,
unweaponed, for war. Let wisest God,
sacred Lord, on which side soever
doom decree as he deemeth right."
Reclined then the chieftain, and cheek-pillows held
the head of the earl, while all about him
seamen hardy on hall-beds sank.
None of them thought that thence their steps
to the folk and fastness that fostered them,
to the land they loved, would lead them back!
Full well they wist that on warriors many
battle-death seized, in the banquet-hall,
of Danish clan. But comfort and help,
war-weal weaving, to Weder folk
the Master gave, that, by might of one,
over their enemy all prevailed,
by single strength. In sooth 'tis told
that highest God o'er human kind
hath wielded ever! -- Thro' wan night striding,
came the walker-in-shadow. Warriors slept
whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, --
all save one. 'Twas widely known
that against God's will the ghostly ravager
him could not hurl to haunts of darkness;
wakeful, ready, with warrior's wrath,
bold he bided the battle's issue.
THEN from the moorland, by misty crags,
with God's wrath laden, Grendel came.
The monster was minded of mankind now
sundry to seize in the stately house.
Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,
gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,
flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,
that he the home of Hrothgar sought, --
yet ne'er in his life-day, late or early,
such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!
To the house the warrior walked apace,
parted from peace; the portal opended,
though with forged bolts fast, when his fists had struck it,
and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,
the house's mouth. All hastily, then,
o'er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,
ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyes
fearful flashes, like flame to see.
He spied in hall the hero-band,
kin and clansmen clustered asleep,
hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;
for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,
savage, to sever the soul of each,
life from body, since lusty banquet
waited his will! But Wyrd forbade him
to seize any more of men on earth
after that evening. Eagerly watched
Hygelac's kinsman his cursed foe,
how he would fare in fell attack.
Not that the monster was minded to pause!
Straightway he seized a sleeping warrior
for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,
the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,
swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus
the lifeless corse was clear devoured,
e'en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;
for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,
felt for the foe with fiendish claw,
for the hero reclining, -- who clutched it boldly,
prompt to answer, propped on his arm.
Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evils
that never he met in this middle-world,
in the ways of earth, another wight
with heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,
sorrowed in soul, -- none the sooner escaped!
Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,
the den of devils: no doings now
such as oft he had done in days of old!
Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thane
of his boast at evening: up he bounded,
grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.
The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.
The monster meant -- if he might at all --
to fling himself free, and far away
fly to the fens, -- knew his fingers' power
in the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome march
to Heorot this monster of harm had made!
Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,
castle-dwellers and clansmen all,
earls, of their ale. Angry were both
those savage hall-guards: the house resounded.
Wonder it was the wine-hall firm
in the strain of their struggle stood, to earth
the fair house fell not; too fast it was
within and without by its iron bands
craftily clamped; though there crashed from sill
many a mead-bench -- men have told me --
gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.
So well had weened the wisest Scyldings
that not ever at all might any man
that bone-decked, brave house break asunder,
crush by craft, -- unless clasp of fire
in smoke engulfed it. -- Again uprose
din redoubled. Danes of the North
with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,
who from the wall that wailing heard,
God's foe sounding his grisly song,
cry of the conquered, clamorous pain
from captive of hell. Too closely held him
he who of men in might was strongest
in that same day of this our life.
NOT in any wise would the earls'-defence
suffer that slaughterous stranger to live,
useless deeming his days and years
to men on earth. Now many an earl
of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral,
fain the life of their lord to shield,
their praised prince, if power were theirs;
never they knew, -- as they neared the foe,
hardy-hearted heroes of war,
aiming their swords on every side
the accursed to kill, -- no keenest blade,
no farest of falchions fashioned on earth,
could harm or hurt that hideous fiend!
He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle,
from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting
on that same day of this our life
woful should be, and his wandering soul
far off flit to the fiends' domain.
Soon he found, who in former days,
harmful in heart and hated of God,
on many a man such murder wrought,
that the frame of his body failed him now.
For him the keen-souled kinsman of Hygelac
held in hand; hateful alive
was each to other. The outlaw dire
took mortal hurt; a mighty wound
showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked,
and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now
the glory was given, and Grendel thence
death-sick his den in the dark moor sought,
noisome abode: he knew too well
that here was the last of life, an end
of his days on earth. -- To all the Danes
by that bloody battle the boon had come.
From ravage had rescued the roving stranger
Hrothgar's hall; the hardy and wise one
had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him,
his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes
had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good,
all their sorrow and ills assuaged,
their bale of battle borne so long,
and all the dole they erst endured
pain a-plenty. -- 'Twas proof of this,
when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down,
arm and shoulder, -- all, indeed,
of Grendel's gripe, -- 'neath the gabled roofá
MANY at morning, as men have told me,
warriors gathered the gift-hall round,
folk-leaders faring from far and near,
o'er wide-stretched ways, the wonder to view,
trace of the traitor. Not troublous seemed
the enemy's end to any man
who saw by the gait of the graceless foe
how the weary-hearted, away from thence,
baffled in battle and banned, his steps
death-marked dragged to the devils' mere.
Bloody the billows were boiling there,
turbid the tide of tumbling waves
horribly seething, with sword-blood hot,
by that doomed one dyed, who in den of the moor
laid forlorn his life adown,
his heathen soul,-and hell received it.
Home then rode the hoary clansmen
from that merry journey, and many a youth,
on horses white, the hardy warriors,
back from the mere. Then Beowulf's glory
eager they echoed, and all averred
that from sea to sea, or south or north,
there was no other in earth's domain,
under vault of heaven, more valiant found,
of warriors none more worthy to rule!
(On their lord beloved they laid no slight,
gracious Hrothgar: a good king he!)
From time to time, the tried-in-battle
their gray steeds set to gallop amain,
and ran a race when the road seemed fair.
From time to time, a thane of the king,
who had made many vaunts, and was mindful of verses,
stored with sagas and songs of old,
bound word to word in well-knit rime,
welded his lay; this warrior soon
of Beowulf's quest right cleverly sang,
and artfully added an excellent tale,
in well-ranged words, of the warlike deeds
he had heard in saga of Sigemund.
Strange the story: he said it all, --
the Waelsing's wanderings wide, his struggles,
which never were told to tribes of men,
the feuds and the frauds, save to Fitela only,
when of these doings he deigned to speak,
uncle to nephew; as ever the twain
stood side by side in stress of war,
and multitude of the monster kind
they had felled with their swords. Of Sigemund grew,
when he passed from life, no little praise;
for the doughty-in-combat a dragon killed
that herded the hoard: under hoary rock
the atheling dared the deed alone
fearful quest, nor was Fitela there.
Yet so it befell, his falchion pierced
that wondrous worm, -- on the wall it struck,
best blade; the dragon died in its blood.
Thus had the dread-one by daring achieved
over the ring-hoard to rule at will,
himself to pleasure; a sea-boat he loaded,
and bore on its bosom the beaming gold,
son of Waels; the worm was consumed.
He had of all heroes the highest renown
among races of men, this refuge-of-warriors,
for deeds of daring that decked his name
since the hand and heart of Heremod
grew slack in battle. He, swiftly banished
to mingle with monsters at mercy of foes,
to death was betrayed; for torrents of sorrow
had lamed him too long; a load of care
to earls and athelings all he proved.
Oft indeed, in earlier days,
for the warrior's wayfaring wise men mourned,
who had hoped of him help from harm and bale,
and had thought their sovran's son would thrive,
follow his father, his folk protect,
the hoard and the stronghold, heroes' land,
home of Scyldings. -- But here, thanes said,
the kinsman of Hygelac kinder seemed
to all: the other was urged to crime!
And afresh to the race, the fallow roads
by swift steeds measured! The morning sun
was climbing higher. Clansmen hastened
to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,
the wonder to witness. Warden of treasure,
crowned with glory, the king himself,
with stately band from the bride-bower strode;
and with him the queen and her crowd of maidens
measured the path to the mead-house fair.
HROTHGAR spake, -- to the hall he went,
stood by the steps, the steep roof saw,
garnished with gold, and Grendel's hand:--
"For the sight I see to the Sovran Ruler
be speedy thanks! A throng of sorrows
I have borne from Grendel; but God still works
wonder on wonder, the Warden-of-Glory.
It was but now that I never more
for woes that weighed on me waited help
long as I lived, when, laved in blood,
stood sword-gore-stained this stateliest house, --
widespread woe for wise men all,
who had no hope to hinder ever
foes infernal and fiendish sprites
from havoc in hall. This hero now,
by the Wielder's might, a work has done
that not all of us erst could ever do
by wile and wisdom. Lo, well can she say
whoso of women this warrior bore
among sons of men, if still she liveth,
that the God of the ages was good to her
in the birth of her bairn. Now, Beowulf, thee,
of heroes best, I shall heartily love
as mine own, my son; preserve thou ever
this kinship new: thou shalt never lack
wealth of the world that I wield as mine!
Full oft for less have I largess showered,
my precious hoard, on a punier man,
less stout in struggle. Thyself hast now
fulfilled such deeds, that thy fame shall endure
through all the ages. As ever he did,
well may the Wielder reward thee still!"
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"This work of war most willingly
we have fought, this fight, and fearlessly dared
force of the foe. Fain, too, were I
hadst thou but seen himself, what time
the fiend in his trappings tottered to fall!
Swiftly, I thought, in strongest gripe
on his bed of death to bind him down,
that he in the hent of this hand of mine
should breathe his last: but he broke away.
Him I might not -- the Maker willed not --
hinder from flight, and firm enough hold
the life-destroyer: too sturdy was he,
the ruthless, in running! For rescue, however,
he left behind him his hand in pledge,
arm and shoulder; nor aught of help
could the cursed one thus procure at all.
None the longer liveth he, loathsome fiend,
sunk in his sins, but sorrow holds him
tightly grasped in gripe of anguish,
in baleful bonds, where bide he must,
evil outlaw, such awful doom
as the Mighty Maker shall mete him out."
More silent seemed the son of Ecglaf
in boastful speech of his battle-deeds,
since athelings all, through the earl's great prowess,
beheld that hand, on the high roof gazing,
foeman's fingers, -- the forepart of each
of the sturdy nails to steel was likest, --
heathen's "hand-spear," hostile warrior's
claw uncanny. 'Twas clear, they said,
that him no blade of the brave could touch,
how keen soever, or cut away
that battle-hand bloody from baneful foe.
THERE was hurry and hest in Heorot now
for hands to bedeck it, and dense was the throng
of men and women the wine-hall to cleanse,
the guest-room to garnish. Gold-gay shone the hangings
that were wove on the wall, and wonders many
to delight each mortal that looks upon them.
Though braced within by iron bands,
that building bright was broken sorely;
rent were its hinges; the roof alone
held safe and sound, when, seared with crime,
the fiendish foe his flight essayed,
of life despairing. -- No light thing that,
the flight for safety, -- essay it who will!
Forced of fate, he shall find his way
to the refuge ready for race of man,
for soul-possessors, and sons of earth;
and there his body on bed of death
shall rest after revel. Arrived was the hour
when to hall proceeded Healfdene's son:
the king himself would sit to banquet.
Ne'er heard I of host in haughtier throng
more graciously gathered round giver-of-rings!
Bowed then to bench those bearers-of-glory,
fain of the feasting. Featly received
many a mead-cup the mighty-in-spirit,
kinsmen who sat in the sumptuous hall,
Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Heorot now
was filled with friends; the folk of Scyldings
ne'er yet had tried the traitor's deed.
To Beowulf gave the bairn of Healfdene
a gold-wove banner, guerdon of triumph,
broidered battle-flag, breastplate and helmet;
and a splendid sword was seen of many
borne to the brave one. Beowulf took
cup in hall: for such costly gifts
he suffered no shame in that soldier throng.
For I heard of few heroes, in heartier mood,
with four such gifts, so fashioned with gold,
on the ale-bench honoring others thus!
O'er the roof of the helmet high, a ridge,
wound with wires, kept ward o'er the head,
lest the relict-of-files should fierce invade,
sharp in the strife, when that shielded hero
should go to grapple against his foes.
Then the earls'-defence on the floor bade lead
coursers eight, with carven head-gear,
adown the hall: one horse was decked
with a saddle all shining and set in jewels;
'twas the battle-seat of the best of kings,
when to play of swords the son of Healfdene
was fain to fare. Ne'er failed his valor
in the crush of combat when corpses fell.
To Beowulf over them both then gave
the refuge-of-Ingwines right and power,
o'er war-steeds and weapons: wished him joy of them.
Manfully thus the mighty prince,
hoard-guard for heroes, that hard fight repaid
with steeds and treasures contemned by none
who is willing to say the sooth aright.
AND the lord of earls, to each that came
with Beowulf over the briny ways,
an heirloom there at the ale-bench gave,
precious gift; and the price bade pay
in gold for him whom Grendel erst
murdered, -- and fain of them more had killed,
had not wisest God their Wyrd averted,
and the man's brave mood. The Maker then
ruled human kind, as here and now.
Therefore is insight always best,
and forethought of mind. How much awaits him
of lief and of loath, who long time here,
through days of warfare this world endures!
Then song and music mingled sounds
in the presence of Healfdene's head-of-armies
and harping was heard with the hero-lay
as Hrothgar's singer the hall-joy woke
along the mead-seats, making his song
of that sudden raid on the sons of Finn.
Healfdene's hero, Hnaef the Scylding,
was fated to fall in the Frisian slaughter.
Hildeburh needed not hold in value
her enemies' honor! Innocent both
were the loved ones she lost at the linden-play,
bairn and brother, they bowed to fate,
stricken by spears; 'twas a sorrowful woman!
None doubted why the daughter of Hoc
bewailed her doom when dawning came,
and under the sky she saw them lying,
kinsmen murdered, where most she had kenned
of the sweets of the world! By war were swept, too,
Finn's own liegemen, and few were left;
in the parleying-place he could ply no longer
weapon, nor war could he wage on Hengest,
and rescue his remnant by right of arms
from the prince's thane. A pact he offered:
another dwelling the Danes should have,
hall and high-seat, and half the power
should fall to them in Frisian land;
and at the fee-gifts, Folcwald's son
day by day the Danes should honor,
the folk of Hengest favor with rings,
even as truly, with treasure and jewels,
with fretted gold, as his Frisian kin
he meant to honor in ale-hall there.
Pact of peace they plighted further
on both sides firmly. Finn to Hengest
with oath, upon honor, openly promised
that woful remnant, with wise-men's aid,
nobly to govern, so none of the guests
by word or work should warp the treaty,
or with malice of mind bemoan themselves
as forced to follow their fee-giver's slayer,
lordless men, as their lot ordained.
Should Frisian, moreover, with foeman's taunt,
that murderous hatred to mind recall,
then edge of the sword must seal his doom.
Oaths were given, and ancient gold
heaped from hoard. -- The hardy Scylding,
battle-thane best, on his balefire lay.
All on the pyre were plain to see
the gory sark, the gilded swine-crest,
boar of hard iron, and athelings many
slain by the sword: at the slaughter they fell.
It was Hildeburh's hest, at Hnaef's own pyre
the bairn of her body on brands to lay,
his bones to burn, on the balefire placed,
at his uncle's side. In sorrowful dirges
bewept them the woman: great wailing ascended.
Then wound up to welkin the wildest of death-fires,
roared o'er the hillock: heads all were melted,
gashes burst, and blood gushed out
from bites of the body. Balefire devoured,
greediest spirit, those spared not by war
out of either folk: their flower was gone.
THEN hastened those heroes their home to see,
friendless, to find the Frisian land,
houses and high burg. Hengest still
through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn,
holding pact, yet of home he minded,
though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive
over the waters, now waves rolled fierce
lashed by the winds, or winter locked them
in icy fetters. Then fared another
year to men's dwellings, as yet they do,
the sunbright skies, that their season ever
duly await. Far off winter was driven;
fair lay earth's breast; and fain was the rover,
the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered
on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep,
and how to hasten the hot encounter
where sons of the Frisians were sure to be.
So he escaped not the common doom,
when Hun with "Lafing," the light-of-battle,
best of blades, his bosom pierced:
its edge was famed with the Frisian earls.
On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise,
on himself at home, the horrid sword-death;
for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack
had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed,
mourning their woes. Finn's wavering spirit
bode not in breast. The burg was reddened
with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain,
king amid clansmen; the queen was taken.
To their ship the Scylding warriors bore
all the chattels the chieftain owned,
whatever they found in Finn's domain
of gems and jewels. The gentle wife
o'er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore,
led to her land. The lay was finished,
the gleeman's song. Then glad rose the revel;
bench-joy brightened. Bearers draw
from their "wonder-vats" wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth,
under gold-crown goes where the good pair sit,
uncle and nephew, true each to the other one,
kindred in amity. Unferth the spokesman
at the Scylding lord's feet sat: men had faith in his spirit,
his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him
unsure at the sword-play. The Scylding queen spoke:
"Quaff of this cup, my king and lord,
breaker of rings, and blithe be thou,
gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak
such words of mildness as man should use.
Be glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful,
or near or far, which now thou hast.
Men say to me, as son thou wishest
yon hero to hold. Thy Heorot purged,
jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while thou canst,
with many a largess; and leave to thy kin
folk and realm when forth thou goest
to greet thy doom. For gracious I deem
my Hrothulf, willing to hold and rule
nobly our youths, if thou yield up first,
prince of Scyldings, thy part in the world.
I ween with good he will well requite
offspring of ours, when all he minds
that for him we did in his helpless days
of gift and grace to gain him honor!"
Then she turned to the seat where her sons were placed,
Hrethric and Hrothmund, with heroes' bairns,
young men together: the Geat, too, sat there,
Beowulf brave, the brothers between.
A CUP she gave him, with kindly greeting
and winsome words. Of wounden gold,
she offered, to honor him, arm-jewels twain,
corselet and rings, and of collars the noblest
that ever I knew the earth around.
Ne'er heard I so mighty, 'neath heaven's dome,
a hoard-gem of heroes, since Hama bore
to his bright-built burg the Brisings' necklace,
jewel and gem casket. -- Jealousy fled he,
Eormenric's hate: chose help eternal.
Hygelac Geat, grandson of Swerting,
on the last of his raids this ring bore with him,
under his banner the booty defending,
the war-spoil warding; but Wyrd o'erwhelmed him
what time, in his daring, dangers he sought,
feud with Frisians. Fairest of gems
he bore with him over the beaker-of-waves,
sovran strong: under shield he died.
Fell the corpse of the king into keeping of Franks,
gear of the breast, and that gorgeous ring;
weaker warriors won the spoil,
after gripe of battle, from Geatland's lord,
and held the death-field. Din rose in hall.
Wealhtheow spake amid warriors, and said:--
"This jewel enjoy in thy jocund youth,
Beowulf lov'd, these battle-weeds wear,
a royal treasure, and richly thrive!
Preserve thy strength, and these striplings here
counsel in kindness: requital be mine.
Hast done such deeds, that for days to come
thou art famed among folk both far and near,
so wide as washeth the wave of Ocean
his windy walls. Through the ways of life
prosper, O prince! I pray for thee
rich possessions. To son of mine
be helpful in deed and uphold his joys!
Here every earl to the other is true,
mild of mood, to the master loyal!
Thanes are friendly, the throng obedient,
liegemen are revelling: list and obey!"
Went then to her place. -- That was proudest of feasts;
flowed wine for the warriors. Wyrd they knew not,
destiny dire, and the doom to be seen
by many an earl when eve should come,
and Hrothgar homeward hasten away,
royal, to rest. The room was guarded
by an army of earls, as erst was done.
They bared the bench-boards; abroad they spread
beds and bolsters. -- One beer-carouser
in danger of doom lay down in the hall. --
At their heads they set their shields of war,
bucklers bright; on the bench were there
over each atheling, easy to see,
the high battle-helmet, the haughty spear,
the corselet of rings. 'Twas their custom so
ever to be for battle prepared,
at home, or harrying, which it were,
even as oft as evil threatened
their sovran king. -- They were clansmen good.
THEN sank they to sleep. With sorrow one bought
his rest of the evening, -- as ofttime had happened
when Grendel guarded that golden hall,
evil wrought, till his end drew nigh,
slaughter for sins. 'Twas seen and told
how an avenger survived the fiend,
as was learned afar. The livelong time
after that grim fight, Grendel's mother,
monster of women, mourned her woe.
She was doomed to dwell in the dreary waters,
cold sea-courses, since Cain cut down
with edge of the sword his only brother,
his father's offspring: outlawed he fled,
marked with murder, from men's delights
warded the wilds. -- There woke from him
such fate-sent ghosts as Grendel, who,
war-wolf horrid, at Heorot found
a warrior watching and waiting the fray,
with whom the grisly one grappled amain.
But the man remembered his mighty power,
the glorious gift that God had sent him,
in his Maker's mercy put his trust
for comfort and help: so he conquered the foe,
felled the fiend, who fled abject,
reft of joy, to the realms of death,
mankind's foe. And his mother now,
gloomy and grim, would go that quest
of sorrow, the death of her son to avenge.
To Heorot came she, where helmeted Danes
slept in the hall. Too soon came back
old ills of the earls, when in she burst,
the mother of Grendel. Less grim, though, that terror,
e'en as terror of woman in war is less,
might of maid, than of men in arms
when, hammer-forged, the falchion hard,
sword gore-stained, through swine of the helm,
crested, with keen blade carves amain.
Then was in hall the hard-edge drawn,
the swords on the settles, and shields a-many
firm held in hand: nor helmet minded
nor harness of mail, whom that horror seized.
Haste was hers; she would hie afar
and save her life when the liegemen saw her.
Yet a single atheling up she seized
fast and firm, as she fled to the moor.
He was for Hrothgar of heroes the dearest,
of trusty vassals betwixt the seas,
whom she killed on his couch, a clansman famous,
in battle brave. -- Nor was Beowulf there;
another house had been held apart,
after giving of gold, for the Geat renowned. --
Uproar filled Heorot; the hand all had viewed,
blood-flecked, she bore with her; bale was returned,
dole in the dwellings: 'twas dire exchange
where Dane and Geat were doomed to give
the lives of loved ones. Long-tried king,
the hoary hero, at heart was sad
when he knew his noble no more lived,
and dead indeed was his dearest thane.
To his bower was Beowulf brought in haste,
dauntless victor. As daylight broke,
along with his earls the atheling lord,
with his clansmen, came where the king abode
waiting to see if the Wielder-of-All
would turn this tale of trouble and woe.
Strode o'er floor the famed-in-strife,
with his hand-companions, -- the hall resounded, --
wishing to greet the wise old king,
Ingwines' lord; he asked if the night
had passed in peace to the prince's mind.
HROTHGAR spake, helmet-of-Scyldings:--
"Ask not of pleasure! Pain is renewed
to Danish folk. Dead is Aeschere,
of Yrmenlaf the elder brother,
my sage adviser and stay in council,
shoulder-comrade in stress of fight
when warriors clashed and we warded our heads,
hewed the helm-boars; hero famed
should be every earl as Aeschere was!
But here in Heorot a hand hath slain him
of wandering death-sprite. I wot not whither,
proud of the prey, her path she took,
fain of her fill. The feud she avenged
that yesternight, unyieldingly,
Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killedst, --
seeing how long these liegemen mine
he 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'er
sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings,
this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies low
that once was willing each wish to please.
Land-dwellers here and liegemen mine,
who house by those parts, I have heard relate
that 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-track
of 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 him
of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home;
by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,
fenways fearful, where flows the stream
from mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks,
underground flood. Not far is it hence
in 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 none
of 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 first
on the brink he yields ere he brave the plunge
to hide his head: 'tis no happy place!
Thence the welter of waters washes up
wan to welkin when winds bestir
evil storms, and air grows dusk,
and the heavens weep. Now is help once more
with thee alone! The land thou knowst not,
place of fear, where thou findest out
that 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."
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:
"Sorrow not, sage! It beseems us better
friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them.
Each of us all must his end abide
in the ways of the world; so win who may
glory ere death! When his days are told,
that is the warrior's worthiest doom.
Rise, O realm-warder! Ride we anon,
and mark the trail of the mother of Grendel.
No harbor shall hide her -- heed my promise! --
enfolding of field or forested mountain
or floor of the flood, let her flee where she will!
But thou this day endure in patience,
as I ween thou wilt, thy woes each one."
Leaped up the graybeard: God he thanked,
mighty Lord, for the man's brave words.
For Hrothgar soon a horse was saddled
wave-maned steed. The sovran wise
stately rode on; his shield-armed men
followed in force. The footprints led
along the woodland, widely seen,
a path o'er the plain, where she passed, and trod
the murky moor; of men-at-arms
she bore the bravest and best one, dead,
him who with Hrothgar the homestead ruled.
On then went the atheling-born
o'er stone-cliffs steep and strait defiles,
narrow passes and unknown ways,
headlands sheer, and the haunts of the Nicors.
Foremost he fared, a few at his side
of the wiser men, the ways to scan,
till he found in a flash the forested hill
hanging over the hoary rock,
a woful wood: the waves below
were dyed in blood. The Danish men
had sorrow of soul, and for Scyldings all,
for many a hero, 'twas hard to bear,
ill for earls, when Aeschere's head
they found by the flood on the foreland there.
Waves were welling, the warriors saw,
hot with blood; but the horn sang oft
battle-song bold. The band sat down,
and watched on the water worm-like things,
sea-dragons strange that sounded the deep,
and nicors that lay on the ledge of the ness --
such as oft essay at hour of morn
on the road-of-sails their ruthless quest, --
and sea-snakes and monsters. These started away,
swollen and savage that song to hear,
that war-horn's blast. The warden of Geats,
with bolt from bow, then balked of life,
of wave-work, one monster, amid its heart
went the keen war-shaft; in water it seemed
less doughty in swimming whom death had seized.
Swift on the billows, with boar-spears well
hooked and barbed, it was hard beset,
done to death and dragged on the headland,
wave-roamer wondrous. Warriors viewed
the grisly guest. Then girt him Beowulf
in martial mail, nor mourned for his life.
His breastplate broad and bright of hues,
woven by hand, should the waters try;
well could it ward the warrior's body
that battle should break on his breast in vain
nor harm his heart by the hand of a foe.
And the helmet white that his head protected
was destined to dare the deeps of the flood,
through wave-whirl win: 'twas wound with chains,
decked with gold, as in days of yore
the weapon-smith worked it wondrously,
with swine-forms set it, that swords nowise,
brandished in battle, could bite that helm.
Nor was that the meanest of mighty helps
which Hrothgar's orator offered at need:
"Hrunting" they named the hilted sword,
of old-time heirlooms easily first;
iron was its edge, all etched with poison,
with battle-blood hardened, nor blenched it at fight
in hero's hand who held it ever,
on paths of peril prepared to go
to folkstead of foes. Not first time this
it was destined to do a daring task.
For he bore not in mind, the bairn of Ecglaf
sturdy and strong, that speech he had made,
drunk with wine, now this weapon he lent
to a stouter swordsman. Himself, though, durst not
under welter of waters wager his life
as loyal liegeman. So lost he his glory,
honor of earls. With the other not so,
who girded him now for the grim encounter.
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Have mind, thou honored offspring of Healfdene
gold-friend of men, now I go on this quest,
sovran wise, what once was said:
if in thy cause it came that I
should lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bide
to me, though fallen, in father's place!
Be guardian, thou, to this group of my thanes,
my warrior-friends, if War should seize me;
and the goodly gifts thou gavest me,
Hrothgar beloved, to Hygelac send!
Geatland's king may ken by the gold,
Hrethel's son see, when he stares at the treasure,
that I got me a friend for goodness famed,
and joyed while I could in my jewel-bestower.
And let Unferth wield this wondrous sword,
earl far-honored, this heirloom precious,
hard of edge: with Hrunting I
seek doom of glory, or Death shall take me."
After these words the Weder-Geat lord
boldly hastened, biding never
answer at all: the ocean floods
closed o'er the hero. Long while of the day
fled ere he felt the floor of the sea.
Soon found the fiend who the flood-domain
sword-hungry held these hundred winters,
greedy and grim, that some guest from above,
some man, was raiding her monster-realm.
She grasped out for him with grisly claws,
and the warrior seized; yet scathed she not
his body hale; the breastplate hindered,
as she strove to shatter the sark of war,
the linked harness, with loathsome hand.
Then bore this brine-wolf, when bottom she touched,
the lord of rings to the lair she haunted
whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held,
weapon to wield against wondrous monsters
that sore beset him; sea-beasts many
tried with fierce tusks to tear his mail,
and swarmed on the stranger. But soon he marked
he was now in some hall, he knew not which,
where water never could work him harm,
nor through the roof could reach him ever
fangs of the flood. Firelight he saw,
beams of a blaze that brightly shone.
Then the warrior was ware of that wolf-of-the-deep,
mere-wife monstrous. For mighty stroke
he swung his blade, and the blow withheld not.
Then sang on her head that seemly blade
its war-song wild. But the warrior found
the light-of-battle was loath to bite,
to harm the heart: its hard edge failed
the noble at need, yet had known of old
strife hand to hand, and had helmets cloven,
doomed men's fighting-gear. First time, this,
for the gleaming blade that its glory fell.
Firm still stood, nor failed in valor,
heedful of high deeds, Hygelac's kinsman;
flung away fretted sword, featly jewelled,
the angry earl; on earth it lay
steel-edged and stiff. His strength he trusted,
hand-gripe of might. So man shall do
whenever in war he weens to earn him
lasting fame, nor fears for his life!
Seized then by shoulder, shrank not from combat,
the Geatish war-prince Grendel's mother.
Flung then the fierce one, filled with wrath,
his deadly foe, that she fell to ground.
Swift on her part she paid him back
with grisly grasp, and grappled with him.
Spent with struggle, stumbled the warrior,
fiercest of fighting-men, fell adown.
On the hall-guest she hurled herself, hent her short sword,
broad and brown-edged, the bairn to avenge,
the sole-born son. -- On his shoulder lay
braided breast-mail, barring death,
withstanding entrance of edge or blade.
Life would have ended for Ecgtheow's son,
under wide earth for that earl of Geats,
had his armor of war not aided him,
battle-net hard, and holy God
wielded the victory, wisest Maker.
The Lord of Heaven allowed his cause;
and easily rose the earl erect.
'MID the battle-gear saw he a blade triumphant,
old-sword of Eotens, with edge of proof,
warriors' heirloom, weapon unmatched,
-- save only 'twas more than other men
to bandy-of-battle could bear at all --
as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen.
Seized then its chain-hilt the Scyldings' chieftain,
bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword,
reckless of life, and so wrathfully smote
that it gripped her neck and grasped her hard,
her bone-rings breaking: the blade pierced through
that fated-one's flesh: to floor she sank.
Bloody the blade: he was blithe of his deed.
Then blazed forth light. 'Twas bright within
as when from the sky there shines unclouded
heaven's candle. The hall he scanned.
By the wall then went he; his weapon raised
high by its hilts the Hygelac-thane,
angry and eager. That edge was not useless
to the warrior now. He wished with speed
Grendel to guerdon for grim raids many,
for the war he waged on Western-Danes
oftener far than an only time,
when of Hrothgar's hearth-companions
he slew in slumber, in sleep devoured,
fifteen men of the folk of Danes,
and as many others outward bore,
his horrible prey. Well paid for that
the wrathful prince! For now prone he saw
Grendel stretched there, spent with war,
spoiled of life, so scathed had left him
Heorot's battle. The body sprang far
when after death it endured the blow,
sword-stroke savage, that severed its head.
Soon, then, saw the sage companions
who waited with Hrothgar, watching the flood,
that the tossing waters turbid grew,
blood-stained the mere. Old men together,
hoary-haired, of the hero spake;
the warrior would not, they weened, again,
proud of conquest, come to seek
their mighty master. To many it seemed
the wolf-of-the-waves had won his life.
The ninth hour came. The noble Scyldings
left the headland; homeward went
the gold-friend of men. But the guests sat on,
stared at the surges, sick in heart,
and wished, yet weened not, their winsome lord
again to see. Now that sword began,
from blood of the fight, in battle-droppings,
war-blade, to wane: 'twas a wondrous thing
that all of it melted as ice is wont
when frosty fetters the Father loosens,
unwinds the wave-bonds, wielding all
seasons and times: the true God he!
Nor took from that dwelling the duke of the Geats
precious things, though a plenty he saw,
save only the head and that hilt withal
blazoned with jewels: the blade had melted,
burned was the bright sword, her blood was so hot,
so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished within
there.
Soon he was swimming who safe saw in combat
downfall of demons; up-dove through the flood.
The clashing waters were cleansed now,
waste of waves, where the wandering fiend
her life-days left and this lapsing world.
Swam then to strand the sailors'-refuge,
sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty glad,
of burden brave he bore with him.
Went then to greet him, and God they thanked,
the thane-band choice of their chieftain blithe,
that safe and sound they could see him again.
Soon from the hardy one helmet and armor
deftly they doffed: now drowsed the mere,
water 'neath welkin, with war-blood stained.
Forth they fared by the footpaths thence,
merry at heart the highways measured,
well-known roads. Courageous men
carried the head from the cliff by the sea,
an arduous task for all the band,
the firm in fight, since four were needed
on the shaft-of-slaughter strenuously
to bear to the gold-hall Grendel's head.
So presently to the palace there
foemen fearless, fourteen Geats,
marching came. Their master-of-clan
mighty amid them the meadow-ways trod.
Strode then within the sovran thane
fearless in fight, of fame renowned,
hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet.
And next by the hair into hall was borne
Grendel's head, where the henchmen were drinking,
an awe to clan and queen alike,
a monster of marvel: the men looked on.
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Lo, now, this sea-booty, son of Healfdene,
Lord of Scyldings, we've lustily brought thee,
sign of glory; thou seest it here.
Not lightly did I with my life escape!
In war under water this work I essayed
with endless effort; and even so
my strength had been lost had the Lord not shielded me.
Not a whit could I with Hrunting do
in work of war, though the weapon is good;
yet a sword the Sovran of Men vouchsafed me
to spy on the wall there, in splendor hanging,
old, gigantic, -- how oft He guides
the friendless wight! -- and I fought with that brand,
felling in fight, since fate was with me,
the house's wardens. That war-sword then
all burned, bright blade, when the blood gushed o'er it,
battle-sweat hot; but the hilt I brought back
from my foes. So avenged I their fiendish deeds
death-fall of Danes, as was due and right.
And this is my hest, that in Heorot now
safe thou canst sleep with thy soldier band,
and every thane of all thy folk
both old and young; no evil fear,
Scyldings' lord, from that side again,
aught ill for thy earls, as erst thou must!"
Then the golden hilt, for that gray-haired leader,
hoary hero, in hand was laid,
giant-wrought, old. So owned and enjoyed it
after downfall of devils, the Danish lord,
wonder-smiths' work, since the world was rid
of that grim-souled fiend, the foe of God,
murder-marked, and his mother as well.
Now it passed into power of the people's king,
best of all that the oceans bound
who have scattered their gold o'er Scandia's isle.
Hrothgar spake -- the hilt he viewed,
heirloom old, where was etched the rise
of that far-off fight when the floods o'erwhelmed,
raging waves, the race of giants
(fearful their fate!), a folk estranged
from God Eternal: whence guerdon due
in that waste of waters the Wielder paid them.
So on the guard of shining gold
in runic staves it was rightly said
for whom the serpent-traced sword was wrought,
best of blades, in bygone days,
and the hilt well wound. -- The wise-one spake,
son of Healfdene; silent were all:--
"Lo, so may he say who sooth and right
follows 'mid folk, of far times mindful,
a land-warden old, that this earl belongs
to the better breed! So, borne aloft,
thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,
far and wide o'er folksteads many. Firmly thou shalt all maintain,
mighty strength with mood of wisdom. Love of mine will I assure thee,
as, awhile ago, I promised; thou shalt prove a stay in future,
in far-off years, to folk of thine,
to the heroes a help. Was not Heremod thus
to offspring of Ecgwela, Honor-Scyldings,
nor grew for their grace, but for grisly slaughter,
for doom of death to the Danishmen.
He slew, wrath-swollen, his shoulder-comrades,
companions at board! So he passed alone,
chieftain haughty, from human cheer.
Though him the Maker with might endowed,
delights of power, and uplifted high
above all men, yet blood-fierce his mind,
his breast-hoard, grew, no bracelets gave he
to Danes as was due; he endured all joyless
strain of struggle and stress of woe,
long feud with his folk. Here find thy lesson!
Of virtue advise thee! This verse I have said for thee,
wise from lapsed winters. Wondrous seems
how to sons of men Almighty God
in the strength of His spirit sendeth wisdom,
estate, high station: He swayeth all things.
Whiles He letteth right lustily fare
the heart of the hero of high-born race, --
in seat ancestral assigns him bliss,
his folk's sure fortress in fee to hold,
puts in his power great parts of the earth,
empire so ample, that end of it
this wanter-of-wisdom weeneth none.
So he waxes in wealth, nowise can harm him
illness or age; no evil cares
shadow his spirit; no sword-hate threatens
from ever an enemy: all the world
wends at his will, no worse he knoweth,
till all within him obstinate pride
waxes and wakes while the warden slumbers,
the spirit's sentry; sleep is too fast
which masters his might, and the murderer nears,
stealthily shooting the shafts from his bow!
"UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed
by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails
from foul behest of the hellish fiend.
Him seems too little what long he possessed.
Greedy and grim, no golden rings
he gives for his pride; the promised future
forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him,
Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.
Yet in the end it ever comes
that the frame of the body fragile yields,
fated falls; and there follows another
who joyously the jewels divides,
the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear.
Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf dearest,
best of men, and the better part choose,
profit eternal; and temper thy pride,
warrior famous! The flower of thy might
lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be
that sickness or sword thy strength shall minish,
or fang of fire, or flooding billow,
or bite of blade, or brandished spear,
or odious age; or the eyes' clear beam
wax dull and darken: Death even thee
in haste shall o'erwhelm, thou hero of war!
So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I ruled,
wielded 'neath welkin, and warded them bravely
from mighty-ones many o'er middle-earth,
from spear and sword, till it seemed for me
no foe could be found under fold of the sky.
Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure
came grief for joy when Grendel began
to harry my home, the hellish foe;
for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered
heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked,
Lord Eternal, for life extended
that I on this head all hewn and bloody,
after long evil, with eyes may gaze!
-- Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet,
warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure
at dawn of day, be dealt between us!"
Glad was the Geats' lord, going betimes
to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded.
Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle,
for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight
nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened
dusk o'er the drinkers. The doughty ones rose:
for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest,
aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,
shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.
Him wander-weary, warrior-guest
from far, a hall-thane heralded forth,
who by custom courtly cared for all
needs of a thane as in those old days
warrior-wanderers wont to have.
So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall
rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on
till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven
blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying
shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened,
athelings all were eager homeward
forth to fare; and far from thence
the great-hearted guest would guide his keel.
Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought
to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take,
excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it,
quoth that he counted it keen in battle,
"war-friend" winsome: with words he slandered not
edge of the blade: 'twas a big-hearted man!
Now eager for parting and armed at point
warriors waited, while went to his host
that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling
to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Lo, we seafarers say our will,
far-come men, that we fain would seek
Hygelac now. We here have found
hosts to our heart: thou hast harbored us well.
If ever on earth I am able to win me
more of thy love, O lord of men,
aught anew, than I now have done,
for work of war I am willing still!
If it come to me ever across the seas
that neighbor foemen annoy and fright thee, --
as they that hate thee erewhile have used, --
thousands then of thanes I shall bring,
heroes to help thee. Of Hygelac I know,
ward of his folk, that, though few his years,
the lord of the Geats will give me aid
by word and by work, that well I may serve thee,
wielding the war-wood to win thy triumph
and lending thee might when thou lackest men.
If thy Hrethric should come to court of Geats,
a sovran's son, he will surely there
find his friends. A far-off land
each man should visit who vaunts him brave."
Him then answering, Hrothgar spake:--
"These words of thine the wisest God
sent to thy soul! No sager counsel
from so young in years e'er yet have I heard.
Thou art strong of main and in mind art wary,
art wise in words! I ween indeed
if ever it hap that Hrethel's heir
by spear be seized, by sword-grim battle,
by illness or iron, thine elder and lord,
people's leader, -- and life be thine, --
no seemlier man will the Sea-Geats find
at all to choose for their chief and king,
for hoard-guard of heroes, if hold thou wilt
thy kinsman's kingdom! Thy keen mind pleases me
the longer the better, Beowulf loved!
Thou hast brought it about that both our peoples,
sons of the Geat and Spear-Dane folk,
shall have mutual peace, and from murderous strife,
such as once they waged, from war refrain.
Long as I rule this realm so wide,
let our hoards be common, let heroes with gold
each other greet o'er the gannet's-bath,
and the ringed-prow bear o'er rolling waves
tokens of love. I trow my landfolk
towards friend and foe are firmly joined,
and honor they keep in the olden way."
To him in the hall, then, Healfdene's son
gave treasures twelve, and the trust-of-earls
bade him fare with the gifts to his folk beloved,
hale to his home, and in haste return.
Then kissed the king of kin renowned,
Scyldings' chieftain, that choicest thane,
and fell on his neck. Fast flowed the tears
of the hoary-headed. Heavy with winters,
he had chances twain, but he clung to this, --
that each should look on the other again,
and hear him in hall. Was this hero so dear to him.
his breast's wild billows he banned in vain;
safe in his soul a secret longing,
locked in his mind, for that loved man
burned in his blood. Then Beowulf strode,
glad of his gold-gifts, the grass-plot o'er,
warrior blithe. The wave-roamer bode
riding at anchor, its owner awaiting.
As they hastened onward, Hrothgar's gift
they lauded at length. -- 'Twas a lord unpeered,
every way blameless, till age had broken
-- it spareth no mortal -- his splendid might.
CAME now to ocean the ever-courageous
hardy henchmen, their harness bearing,
woven war-sarks. The warden marked,
trusty as ever, the earl's return.
From the height of the hill no hostile words
reached the guests as he rode to greet them;
but "Welcome!" he called to that Weder clan
as the sheen-mailed spoilers to ship marched on.
Then on the strand, with steeds and treasure
and armor their roomy and ring-dight ship
was heavily laden: high its mast
rose over Hrothgar's hoarded gems.
A sword to the boat-guard Beowulf gave,
mounted with gold; on the mead-bench since
he was better esteemed, that blade possessing,
heirloom old. -- Their ocean-keel boarding,
they drove through the deep, and Daneland left.
A sea-cloth was set, a sail with ropes,
firm to the mast; the flood-timbers moaned;
nor did wind over billows that wave-swimmer blow
across from her course. The craft sped on,
foam-necked it floated forth o'er the waves,
keel firm-bound over briny currents,
till they got them sight of the Geatish cliffs,
home-known headlands. High the boat,
stirred by winds, on the strand updrove.
Helpful at haven the harbor-guard stood,
who long already for loved companions
by the water had waited and watched afar.
He bound to the beach the broad-bosomed ship
with anchor-bands, lest ocean-billows
that trusty timber should tear away.
Then Beowulf bade them bear the treasure,
gold and jewels; no journey far
was it thence to go to the giver of rings,
Hygelac Hrethling: at home he dwelt
by the sea-wall close, himself and clan.
Haughty that house, a hero the king,
high the hall, and Hygd right young,
wise and wary, though winters few
in those fortress walls she had found a home,
Haereth's daughter. Nor humble her ways,
nor grudged she gifts to the Geatish men,
of precious treasure. Not Thryth's pride showed she,
folk-queen famed, or that fell deceit.
Was none so daring that durst make bold
(save her lord alone) of the liegemen dear
that lady full in the face to look,
but forged fetters he found his lot,
bonds of death! And brief the respite;
soon as they seized him, his sword-doom was spoken,
and the burnished blade a baleful murder
proclaimed and closed. No queenly way
for woman to practise, though peerless she,
that the weaver-of-peace from warrior dear
by wrath and lying his life should reave!
But Hemming's kinsman hindered this. --
For over their ale men also told
that of these folk-horrors fewer she wrought,
onslaughts of evil, after she went,
gold-decked bride, to the brave young prince,
atheling haughty, and Offa's hall
o'er the fallow flood at her father's bidding
safely sought, where since she prospered,
royal, throned, rich in goods,
fain of the fair life fate had sent her,
and leal in love to the lord of warriors.
He, of all heroes I heard of ever
from sea to sea, of the sons of earth,
most excellent seemed. Hence Offa was praised
for his fighting and feeing by far-off men,
the spear-bold warrior; wisely he ruled
over his empire. Eomer woke to him,
help of heroes, Hemming's kinsman,
Grandson of Garmund, grim in war.
HASTENED the hardy one, henchmen with him,
sandy strand of the sea to tread
and widespread ways. The world's great candle,
sun shone from south. They strode along
with sturdy steps to the spot they knew
where the battle-king young, his burg within,
slayer of Ongentheow, shared the rings,
shelter-of-heroes. To Hygelac
Beowulf's coming was quickly told, --
that there in the court the clansmen's refuge,
the shield-companion sound and alive,
hale from the hero-play homeward strode.
With haste in the hall, by highest order,
room for the rovers was readily made.
By his sovran he sat, come safe from battle,
kinsman by kinsman. His kindly lord
he first had greeted in gracious form,
with manly words. The mead dispensing,
came through the high hall Haereth's daughter,
winsome to warriors, wine-cup bore
to the hands of the heroes. Hygelac then
his comrade fairly with question plied
in the lofty hall, sore longing to know
what manner of sojourn the Sea-Geats made.
"What came of thy quest, my kinsman Beowulf,
when thy yearnings suddenly swept thee yonder
battle to seek o'er the briny sea,
combat in Heorot? Hrothgar couldst thou
aid at all, the honored chief,
in his wide-known woes? With waves of care
my sad heart seethed; I sore mistrusted
my loved one's venture: long I begged thee
by no means to seek that slaughtering monster,
but suffer the South-Danes to settle their feud
themselves with Grendel. Now God be thanked
that safe and sound I can see thee now!"
Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"'Tis known and unhidden, Hygelac Lord,
to many men, that meeting of ours,
struggle grim between Grendel and me,
which we fought on the field where full too many
sorrows he wrought for the Scylding-Victors,
evils unending. These all I avenged.
No boast can be from breed of Grendel,
any on earth, for that uproar at dawn,
from the longest-lived of the loathsome race
in fleshly fold! -- But first I went
Hrothgar to greet in the hall of gifts,
where Healfdene's kinsman high-renowned,
soon as my purpose was plain to him,
assigned me a seat by his son and heir.
The liegemen were lusty; my life-days never
such merry men over mead in hall
have I heard under heaven! The high-born queen,
people's peace-bringer, passed through the hall,
cheered the young clansmen, clasps of gold,
ere she sought her seat, to sundry gave.
Oft to the heroes Hrothgar's daughter,
to earls in turn, the ale-cup tendered, --
she whom I heard these hall-companions
Freawaru name, when fretted gold
she proffered the warriors. Promised is she,
gold-decked maid, to the glad son of Froda.
Sage this seems to the Scylding's-friend,
kingdom's-keeper: he counts it wise
the woman to wed so and ward off feud,
store of slaughter. But seldom ever
when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink
but briefest while, though the bride be fair!
"Nor haply will like it the Heathobard lord,
and as little each of his liegemen all,
when a thane of the Danes, in that doughty throng,
goes with the lady along their hall,
and on him the old-time heirlooms glisten
hard and ring-decked, Heathobard's treasure,
weapons that once they wielded fair
until they lost at the linden-play
liegeman leal and their lives as well.
Then, over the ale, on this heirloom gazing,
some ash-wielder old who has all in mind
that spear-death of men, -- he is stern of mood,
heavy at heart, -- in the hero young
tests the temper and tries the soul
and war-hate wakens, with words like these:--
Canst thou not, comrade, ken that sword
which to the fray thy father carried
in his final feud, 'neath the fighting-mask,
dearest of blades, when the Danish slew him
and wielded the war-place on Withergild's fall,
after havoc of heroes, those hardy Scyldings?
Now, the son of a certain slaughtering Dane,
proud of his treasure, paces this hall,
joys in the killing, and carries the jewel
that rightfully ought to be owned by thee!
Thus he urges and eggs him all the time
with keenest words, till occasion offers
that Freawaru's thane, for his father's deed,
after bite of brand in his blood must slumber,
losing his life; but that liegeman flies
living away, for the land he kens.
And thus be broken on both their sides
oaths of the earls, when Ingeld's breast
wells with war-hate, and wife-love now
after the care-billows cooler grows.
"So I hold not high the Heathobards' faith
due to the Danes, or their during love
and pact of peace. -- But I pass from that,
turning to Grendel, O giver-of-treasure,
and saying in full how the fight resulted,
hand-fray of heroes. When heaven's jewel
had fled o'er far fields, that fierce sprite came,
night-foe savage, to seek us out
where safe and sound we sentried the hall.
To Hondscio then was that harassing deadly,
his fall there was fated. He first was slain,
girded warrior. Grendel on him
turned murderous mouth, on our mighty kinsman,
and all of the brave man's body devoured.
Yet none the earlier, empty-handed,
would the bloody-toothed murderer, mindful of bale,
outward go from the gold-decked hall:
but me he attacked in his terror of might,
with greedy hand grasped me. A glove hung by him
wide and wondrous, wound with bands;
and in artful wise it all was wrought,
by devilish craft, of dragon-skins.
Me therein, an innocent man,
the fiendish foe was fain to thrust
with many another. He might not so,
when I all angrily upright stood.
'Twere long to relate how that land-destroyer
I paid in kind for his cruel deeds;
yet there, my prince, this people of thine
got fame by my fighting. He fled away,
and a little space his life preserved;
but there staid behind him his stronger hand
left in Heorot; heartsick thence
on the floor of the ocean that outcast fell.
Me for this struggle the Scyldings'-friend
paid in plenty with plates of gold,
with many a treasure, when morn had come
and we all at the banquet-board sat down.
Then was song and glee. The gray-haired Scylding,
much tested, told of the times of yore.
Whiles the hero his harp bestirred,
wood-of-delight; now lays he chanted
of sooth and sadness, or said aright
legends of wonder, the wide-hearted king;
or for years of his youth he would yearn at times,
for strength of old struggles, now stricken with age,
hoary hero: his heart surged full
when, wise with winters, he wailed their flight.
Thus in the hall the whole of that day
at ease we feasted, till fell o'er earth
another night. Anon full ready
in greed of vengeance, Grendel's mother
set forth all doleful. Dead was her son
through war-hate of Weders; now, woman monstrous
with fury fell a foeman she slew,
avenged her offspring. From Aeschere old,
loyal councillor, life was gone;
nor might they e'en, when morning broke,
those Danish people, their death-done comrade
burn with brands, on balefire lay
the man they mourned. Under mountain stream
she had carried the corpse with cruel hands.
For Hrothgar that was the heaviest sorrow
of all that had laden the lord of his folk.
The leader then, by thy life, besought me
(sad was his soul) in the sea-waves' coil
to play the hero and hazard my being
for glory of prowess: my guerdon he pledged.
I then in the waters -- 'tis widely known --
that sea-floor-guardian savage found.
Hand-to-hand there a while we struggled;
billows welled blood; in the briny hall
her head I hewed with a hardy blade
from Grendel's mother, -- and gained my life,
though not without danger. My doom was not yet.
Then the haven-of-heroes, Healfdene's son,
gave me in guerdon great gifts of price.
"So held this king to the customs old,
that I wanted for nought in the wage I gained,
the meed of my might; he made me gifts,
Healfdene's heir, for my own disposal.
Now to thee, my prince, I proffer them all,
gladly give them. Thy grace alone
can find me favor. Few indeed
have I of kinsmen, save, Hygelac, thee!"
Then he bade them bear him the boar-head standard,
the battle-helm high, and breastplate gray,
the splendid sword; then spake in form:--
"Me this war-gear the wise old prince,
Hrothgar, gave, and his hest he added,
that its story be straightway said to thee. --
A while it was held by Heorogar king,
for long time lord of the land of Scyldings;
yet not to his son the sovran left it,
to daring Heoroweard, -- dear as he was to him,
his harness of battle. -- Well hold thou it all!"
And I heard that soon passed o'er the path of this treasure,
all apple-fallow, four good steeds,
each like the others, arms and horses
he gave to the king. So should kinsmen be,
not weave one another the net of wiles,
or with deep-hid treachery death contrive
for neighbor and comrade. His nephew was ever
by hardy Hygelac held full dear,
and each kept watch o'er the other's weal.
I heard, too, the necklace to Hygd he presented,
wonder-wrought treasure, which Wealhtheow gave him
sovran's daughter: three steeds he added,
slender and saddle-gay. Since such gift
the gem gleamed bright on the breast of the queen.
Thus showed his strain the son of Ecgtheow
as a man remarked for mighty deeds
and acts of honor. At ale he slew not
comrade or kin; nor cruel his mood,
though of sons of earth his strength was greatest,
a glorious gift that God had sent
the splendid leader. Long was he spurned,
and worthless by Geatish warriors held;
him at mead the master-of-clans
failed full oft to favor at all.
Slack and shiftless the strong men deemed him,
profitless prince; but payment came,
to the warrior honored, for all his woes. --
Then the bulwark-of-earls bade bring within,
hardy chieftain, Hrethel's heirloom
garnished with gold: no Geat e'er knew
in shape of a sword a statelier prize.
The brand he laid in Beowulf's lap;
and of hides assigned him seven thousand,
with house and high-seat. They held in common
land alike by their line of birth,
inheritance, home: but higher the king
because of his rule o'er the realm itself.
Now further it fell with the flight of years,
with harryings horrid, that Hygelac perished,
and Heardred, too, by hewing of swords
under the shield-wall slaughtered lay,
when him at the van of his victor-folk
sought hardy heroes, Heatho-Scilfings,
in arms o'erwhelming Hereric's nephew.
Then Beowulf came as king this broad
realm to wield; and he ruled it well
fifty winters, a wise old prince,
warding his land, until One began
in the dark of night, a Dragon, to rage.
In the grave on the hill a hoard it guarded,
in the stone-barrow steep. A strait path reached it,
unknown to mortals. Some man, however,
came by chance that cave within
to the heathen hoard. In hand he took
a golden goblet, nor gave he it back,
stole with it away, while the watcher slept,
by thievish wiles: for the warden's wrath
prince and people must pay betimes!
THAT way he went with no will of his own,
in danger of life, to the dragon's hoard,
but for pressure of peril, some prince's thane.
He fled in fear the fatal scourge,
seeking shelter, a sinful man,
and entered in. At the awful sight
tottered that guest, and terror seized him;
yet the wretched fugitive rallied anon
from fright and fear ere he fled away,
and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.
Of such besides there was store enough,
heirlooms old, the earth below,
which some earl forgotten, in ancient years,
left the last of his lofty race,
heedfully there had hidden away,
dearest treasure. For death of yore
had hurried all hence; and he alone
left to live, the last of the clan,
weeping his friends, yet wished to bide
warding the treasure, his one delight,
though brief his respite. The barrow, new-ready,
to strand and sea-waves stood anear,
hard by the headland, hidden and closed;
there laid within it his lordly heirlooms
and heaped hoard of heavy gold
that warden of rings. Few words he spake:
"Now hold thou, earth, since heroes may not,
what earls have owned! Lo, erst from thee
brave men brought it! But battle-death seized
and cruel killing my clansmen all,
robbed them of life and a liegeman's joys.
None have I left to lift the sword,
or to cleanse the carven cup of price,
beaker bright. My brave are gone.
And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold,
shall part from its plating. Polishers sleep
who could brighten and burnish the battle-mask;
and those weeds of war that were wont to brave
over bicker of shields the bite of steel
rust with their bearer. The ringed mail
fares not far with famous chieftain,
at side of hero! No harp's delight,
no glee-wood's gladness! No good hawk now
flies through the hall! Nor horses fleet
stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death
the flower of my race have reft away."
Mournful of mood, thus he moaned his woe,
alone, for them all, and unblithe wept
by day and by night, till death's fell wave
o'erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss
that old ill-doer open found,
who, blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth,
naked foe-dragon flying by night
folded in fire: the folk of earth
dread him sore. 'Tis his doom to seek
hoard in the graves, and heathen gold
to watch, many-wintered: nor wins he thereby!
Powerful this plague-of-the-people thus
held the house of the hoard in earth
three hundred winters; till One aroused
wrath in his breast, to the ruler bearing
that costly cup, and the king implored
for bond of peace. So the barrow was plundered,
borne off was booty. His boon was granted
that wretched man; and his ruler saw
first time what was fashioned in far-off days.
When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled.
O'er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found
footprint of foe who so far had gone
in his hidden craft by the creature's head. --
So may the undoomed easily flee
evils and exile, if only he gain
the grace of The Wielder! -- That warden of gold
o'er the ground went seeking, greedy to find
the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.
Savage and burning, the barrow he circled
all without; nor was any there,
none in the waste.... Yet war he desired,
was eager for battle. The barrow he entered,
sought the cup, and discovered soon
that some one of mortals had searched his treasure,
his lordly gold. The guardian waited
ill-enduring till evening came;
boiling with wrath was the barrow's keeper,
and fain with flame the foe to pay
for the dear cup's loss. -- Now day was fled
as the worm had wished. By its wall no more
was it glad to bide, but burning flew
folded in flame: a fearful beginning
for sons of the soil; and soon it came,
in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.
THEN the baleful fiend its fire belched out,
and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high
all landsfolk frighting. No living thing
would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.
Wide was the dragon's warring seen,
its fiendish fury far and near,
as the grim destroyer those Geatish people
hated and hounded. To hidden lair,
to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.
Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,
with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,
its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!
To Beowulf then the bale was told
quickly and truly: the king's own home,
of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,
that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old man
sad in heart, 'twas heaviest sorrow.
The sage assumed that his sovran God
he had angered, breaking ancient law,
and embittered the Lord. His breast within
with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.
The folk's own fastness that fiery dragon
with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all
washed by waves; but the warlike king,
prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.
Warriors'-bulwark, he bade them work
all of iron -- the earl's commander --
a war-shield wondrous: well he knew
that forest-wood against fire were worthless,
linden could aid not. -- Atheling brave,
he was fated to finish this fleeting life,
his days on earth, and the dragon with him,
though long it had watched o'er the wealth of the hoard! --
Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,
to follow the flyer-afar with a host,
a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,
nor deemed he dreadful the dragon's warring,
its vigor and valor: ventures desperate
he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,
contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,
Hrothgar's hall he had wholly purged,
and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,
loathsome breed! Not least was that
of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,
when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,
lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,
son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts died,
by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fled
through strength of himself and his swimming power,
though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty
coats of mail, when he came to the sea!
Nor yet might Hetwaras haughtily boast
their craft of contest, who carried against him
shields to the fight: but few escaped
from strife with the hero to seek their homes!
Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow's son
lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,
where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,
rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught
the strength of her son to save their kingdom
from hostile hordes, after Hygelac's death.
No sooner for this could the stricken ones
in any wise move that atheling's mind
over young Heardred's head as lord
and ruler of all the realm to be:
yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,
aided in honor, till, older grown,
he wielded the Weder-Geats. -- Wandering exiles
sought him o'er seas, the sons of Ohtere,
who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings'-helmet,
the bravest and best that broke the rings,
in Swedish land, of the sea-kings' line,
haughty hero. Hence Heardred's end.
For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,
the blade's fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;
but the son of Ongentheow sought again
house and home when Heardred fell,
leaving Beowulf lord of Geats
and gift-seat's master. -- A good king he!
THE fall of his lord he was fain to requite
in after days; and to Eadgils he proved
friend to the friendless, and forces sent
over the sea to the son of Ohtere,
weapons and warriors: well repaid he
those care-paths cold when the king he slew.
Thus safe through struggles the son of Ecgtheow
had passed a plenty, through perils dire,
with daring deeds, till this day was come
that doomed him now with the dragon to strive.
With comrades eleven the lord of Geats
swollen in rage went seeking the dragon.
He had heard whence all the harm arose
and the killing of clansmen; that cup of price
on the lap of the lord had been laid by the finder.
In the throng was this one thirteenth man,
starter of all the strife and ill,
care-laden captive; cringing thence
forced and reluctant, he led them on
till he came in ken of that cavern-hall,
the barrow delved near billowy surges,
flood of ocean. Within 'twas full
of wire-gold and jewels; a jealous warden,
warrior trusty, the treasures held,
lurked in his lair. Not light the task
of entrance for any of earth-born men!
Sat on the headland the hero king,
spake words of hail to his hearth-companions,
gold-friend of Geats. All gloomy his soul,
wavering, death-bound. Wyrd full nigh
stood ready to greet the gray-haired man,
to seize his soul-hoard, sunder apart
life and body. Not long would be
the warrior's spirit enwound with flesh.
Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Through store of struggles I strove in youth,
mighty feuds; I mind them all.
I was seven years old when the sovran of rings,
friend-of-his-folk, from my father took me,
had me, and held me, Hrethel the king,
with food and fee, faithful in kinship.
Ne'er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,
bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,
Herebeald and Haethcyn and Hygelac mine.
For the eldest of these, by unmeet chance,
by kinsman's deed, was the death-bed strewn,
when Haethcyn killed him with horny bow,
his own dear liege laid low with an arrow,
missed the mark and his mate shot down,
one brother the other, with bloody shaft.
A feeless fight, and a fearful sin,
horror to Hrethel; yet, hard as it was,
unavenged must the atheling die!
Too awful it is for an aged man
to bide and bear, that his bairn so young
rides on the gallows. A rime he makes,
sorrow-song for his son there hanging
as rapture of ravens; no rescue now
can come from the old, disabled man!
Still is he minded, as morning breaks,
of the heir gone elsewhere; another he hopes not
he will bide to see his burg within
as ward for his wealth, now the one has found
doom of death that the deed incurred.
Forlorn he looks on the lodge of his son,
wine-hall waste and wind-swept chambers
reft of revel. The rider sleepeth,
the hero, far-hidden; no harp resounds,
in the courts no wassail, as once was heard.
"THEN he goes to his chamber, a grief-song chants
alone for his lost. Too large all seems,
homestead and house. So the helmet-of-Weders
hid in his heart for Herebeald
waves of woe. No way could he take
to avenge on the slayer slaughter so foul;
nor e'en could he harass that hero at all
with loathing deed, though he loved him not.
And so for the sorrow his soul endured,
men's gladness he gave up and God's light chose.
Lands and cities he left his sons
(as the wealthy do) when he went from earth.
There was strife and struggle 'twixt Swede and Geat
o'er the width of waters; war arose,
hard battle-horror, when Hrethel died,
and Ongentheow's offspring grew
strife-keen, bold, nor brooked o'er the seas
pact of peace, but pushed their hosts
to harass in hatred by Hreosnabeorh.
Men of my folk for that feud had vengeance,
for woful war ('tis widely known),
though one of them bought it with blood of his heart,
a bargain hard: for Haethcyn proved
fatal that fray, for the first-of-Geats.
At morn, I heard, was the murderer killed
by kinsman for kinsman, with clash of sword,
when Ongentheow met Eofor there.
Wide split the war-helm: wan he fell,
hoary Scylfing; the hand that smote him
of feud was mindful, nor flinched from the death-blow.
-- "For all that he gave me, my gleaming sword
repaid him at war, -- such power I wielded, --
for lordly treasure: with land he entrusted me,
homestead and house. He had no need
from Swedish realm, or from Spear-Dane folk,
or from men of the Gifths, to get him help, --
some warrior worse for wage to buy!
Ever I fought in the front of all,
sole to the fore; and so shall I fight
while I bide in life and this blade shall last
that early and late hath loyal proved
since for my doughtiness Daeghrefn fell,
slain by my hand, the Hugas' champion.
Nor fared he thence to the Frisian king
with the booty back, and breast-adornments;
but, slain in struggle, that standard-bearer
fell, atheling brave. Not with blade was he slain,
but his bones were broken by brawny gripe,
his heart-waves stilled. -- The sword-edge now,
hard blade and my hand, for the hoard shall strive."
Beowulf spake, and a battle-vow made
his last of all: "I have lived through many
wars in my youth; now once again,
old folk-defender, feud will I seek,
do doughty deeds, if the dark destroyer
forth from his cavern come to fight me!"
Then hailed he the helmeted heroes all,
for the last time greeting his liegemen dear,
comrades of war: "I should carry no weapon,
no sword to the serpent, if sure I knew
how, with such enemy, else my vows
I could gain as I did in Grendel's day.
But fire in this fight I must fear me now,
and poisonous breath; so I bring with me
breastplate and board. From the barrow's keeper
no footbreadth flee I. One fight shall end
our war by the wall, as Wyrd allots,
all mankind's master. My mood is bold
but forbears to boast o'er this battling-flyer.
-- Now abide by the barrow, ye breastplate-mailed,
ye heroes in harness, which of us twain
better from battle-rush bear his wounds.
Wait ye the finish. The fight is not yours,
nor meet for any but me alone
to measure might with this monster here
and play the hero. Hardily I
shall win that wealth, or war shall seize,
cruel killing, your king and lord!"
Up stood then with shield the sturdy champion,
stayed by the strength of his single manhood,
and hardy 'neath helmet his harness bore
under cleft of the cliffs: no coward's path!
Soon spied by the wall that warrior chief,
survivor of many a victory-field
where foemen fought with furious clashings,
an arch of stone; and within, a stream
that broke from the barrow. The brooklet's wave
was hot with fire. The hoard that way
he never could hope unharmed to near,
or endure those deeps, for the dragon's flame.
Then let from his breast, for he burst with rage,
the Weder-Geat prince a word outgo;
stormed the stark-heart; stern went ringing
and clear his cry 'neath the cliff-rocks gray.
The hoard-guard heard a human voice;
his rage was enkindled. No respite now
for pact of peace! The poison-breath
of that foul worm first came forth from the cave,
hot reek-of-fight: the rocks resounded.
Stout by the stone-way his shield he raised,
lord of the Geats, against the loathed-one;
while with courage keen that coiled foe
came seeking strife. The sturdy king
had drawn his sword, not dull of edge,
heirloom old; and each of the two
felt fear of his foe, though fierce their mood.
Stoutly stood with his shield high-raised
the warrior king, as the worm now coiled
together amain: the mailed-one waited.
Now, spire by spire, fast sped and glided
that blazing serpent. The shield protected,
soul and body a shorter while
for the hero-king than his heart desired,
could his will have wielded the welcome respite
but once in his life! But Wyrd denied it,
and victory's honors. -- His arm he lifted
lord of the Geats, the grim foe smote
with atheling's heirloom. Its edge was turned
brown blade, on the bone, and bit more feebly
than its noble master had need of then
in his baleful stress. -- Then the barrow's keeper
waxed full wild for that weighty blow,
cast deadly flames; wide drove and far
those vicious fires. No victor's glory
the Geats' lord boasted; his brand had failed,
naked in battle, as never it should,
excellent iron! -- 'Twas no easy path
that Ecgtheow's honored heir must tread
over the plain to the place of the foe;
for against his will he must win a home
elsewhere far, as must all men, leaving
this lapsing life! -- Not long it was
ere those champions grimly closed again.
The hoard-guard was heartened; high heaved his breast
once more; and by peril was pressed again,
enfolded in flames, the folk-commander!
Nor yet about him his band of comrades,
sons of athelings, armed stood
with warlike front: to the woods they bent them,
their lives to save. But the soul of one
with care was cumbered. Kinship true
can never be marred in a noble mind!
WIGLAF his name was, Weohstan's son,
linden-thane loved, the lord of Scylfings,
Aelfhere's kinsman. His king he now saw
with heat under helmet hard oppressed.
He minded the prizes his prince had given him,
wealthy seat of the Waegmunding line,
and folk-rights that his father owned
Not long he lingered. The linden yellow,
his shield, he seized; the old sword he drew: --
as heirloom of Eanmund earth-dwellers knew it,
who was slain by the sword-edge, son of Ohtere,
friendless exile, erst in fray
killed by Weohstan, who won for his kin
brown-bright helmet, breastplate ringed,
old sword of Eotens, Onela's gift,
weeds of war of the warrior-thane,
battle-gear brave: though a brother's child
had been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onela.
For winters this war-gear Weohstan kept,
breastplate and board, till his bairn had grown
earlship to earn as the old sire did:
then he gave him, mid Geats, the gear of battle,
portion huge, when he passed from life,
fared aged forth. For the first time now
with his leader-lord the liegeman young
was bidden to share the shock of battle.
Neither softened his soul, nor the sire's bequest
weakened in war. So the worm found out
when once in fight the foes had met!
Wiglaf spake, -- and his words were sage;
sad in spirit, he said to his comrades:--
"I remember the time, when mead we took,
what promise we made to this prince of ours
in the banquet-hall, to our breaker-of-rings,
for gear of combat to give him requital,
for hard-sword and helmet, if hap should bring
stress of this sort! Himself who chose us
from all his army to aid him now,
urged us to glory, and gave these treasures,
because he counted us keen with the spear
and hardy 'neath helm, though this hero-work
our leader hoped unhelped and alone
to finish for us, -- folk-defender
who hath got him glory greater than all men
for daring deeds! Now the day is come
that our noble master has need of the might
of warriors stout. Let us stride along
the hero to help while the heat is about him
glowing and grim! For God is my witness
I am far more fain the fire should seize
along with my lord these limbs of mine!
Unsuiting it seems our shields to bear
homeward hence, save here we essay
to fell the foe and defend the life
of the Weders' lord. I wot 'twere shame
on the law of our land if alone the king
out of Geatish warriors woe endured
and sank in the struggle! My sword and helmet,
breastplate and board, for us both shall serve!"
Through slaughter-reek strode he to succor his chieftain,
his battle-helm bore, and brief words spake:--
"Beowulf dearest, do all bravely,
as in youthful days of yore thou vowedst
that while life should last thou wouldst let no wise
thy glory droop! Now, great in deeds,
atheling steadfast, with all thy strength
shield thy life! I will stand to help thee."
At the words the worm came once again,
murderous monster mad with rage,
with fire-billows flaming, its foes to seek,
the hated men. In heat-waves burned
that board to the boss, and the breastplate failed
to shelter at all the spear-thane young.
Yet quickly under his kinsman's shield
went eager the earl, since his own was now
all burned by the blaze. The bold king again
had mind of his glory: with might his glaive
was driven into the dragon's head, --
blow nerved by hate. But Naegling was shivered,
broken in battle was Beowulf's sword,
old and gray. 'Twas granted him not
that ever the edge of iron at all
could help him at strife: too strong was his hand,
so the tale is told, and he tried too far
with strength of stroke all swords he wielded,
though sturdy their steel: they steaded him nought.
Then for the third time thought on its feud
that folk-destroyer, fire-dread dragon,
and rushed on the hero, where room allowed,
battle-grim, burning; its bitter teeth
closed on his neck, and covered him
with waves of blood from his breast that welled.
'TWAS now, men say, in his sovran's need
that the earl made known his noble strain,
craft and keenness and courage enduring.
Heedless of harm, though his hand was burned,
hardy-hearted, he helped his kinsman.
A little lower the loathsome beast
he smote with sword; his steel drove in
bright and burnished; that blaze began
to lose and lessen. At last the king
wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,
a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,
and the Weders'-helm smote that worm asunder,
felled the foe, flung forth its life.
So had they killed it, kinsmen both,
athelings twain: thus an earl should be
in danger's day! -- Of deeds of valor
this conqueror's-hour of the king was last,
of his work in the world. The wound began,
which that dragon-of-earth had erst inflicted,
to swell and smart; and soon he found
in his breast was boiling, baleful and deep,
pain of poison. The prince walked on,
wise in his thought, to the wall of rock;
then sat, and stared at the structure of giants,
where arch of stone and steadfast column
upheld forever that hall in earth.
Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless
lave with water his winsome lord,
the king and conqueror covered with blood,
with struggle spent, and unspan his helmet.
Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt,
his mortal wound; full well he knew
his portion now was past and gone
of earthly bliss, and all had fled
of his file of days, and death was near:
"I would fain bestow on son of mine
this gear of war, were given me now
that any heir should after me come
of my proper blood. This people I ruled
fifty winters. No folk-king was there,
none at all, of the neighboring clans
who war would wage me with 'warriors'-friends'
and threat me with horrors. At home I bided
what fate might come, and I cared for mine own;
feuds I sought not, nor falsely swore
ever on oath. For all these things,
though fatally wounded, fain am I!
From the Ruler-of-Man no wrath shall seize me,
when life from my frame must flee away,
for killing of kinsmen! Now quickly go
and gaze on that hoard 'neath the hoary rock,
Wiglaf loved, now the worm lies low,
sleeps, heart-sore, of his spoil bereaved.
And fare in haste. I would fain behold
the gorgeous heirlooms, golden store,
have joy in the jewels and gems, lay down
softlier for sight of this splendid hoard
my life and the lordship I long have held."
I HAVE heard that swiftly the son of Weohstan
at wish and word of his wounded king, --
war-sick warrior, -- woven mail-coat,
battle-sark, bore 'neath the barrow's roof.
Then the clansman keen, of conquest proud,
passing the seat, saw store of jewels
and glistening gold the ground along;
by the wall were marvels, and many a vessel
in the den of the dragon, the dawn-flier old:
unburnished bowls of bygone men
reft of richness; rusty helms
of the olden age; and arm-rings many
wondrously woven. -- Such wealth of gold,
booty from barrow, can burden with pride
each human wight: let him hide it who will! --
His glance too fell on a gold-wove banner
high o'er the hoard, of handiwork noblest,
brilliantly broidered; so bright its gleam,
all the earth-floor he easily saw
and viewed all these vessels. No vestige now
was seen of the serpent: the sword had ta'en him.
Then, I heard, the hill of its hoard was reft,
old work of giants, by one alone;
he burdened his bosom with beakers and plate
at his own good will, and the ensign took,
brightest of beacons. -- The blade of his lord
-- its edge was iron -- had injured deep
one that guarded the golden hoard
many a year and its murder-fire
spread hot round the barrow in horror-billows
at midnight hour, till it met its doom.
Hasted the herald, the hoard so spurred him
his track to retrace; he was troubled by doubt,
high-souled hero, if haply he'd find
alive, where he left him, the lord of Weders,
weakening fast by the wall of the cave.
So he carried the load. His lord and king
he found all bleeding, famous chief
at the lapse of life. The liegeman again
plashed him with water, till point of word
broke through the breast-hoard. Beowulf spake,
sage and sad, as he stared at the gold. --
"For the gold and treasure, to God my thanks,
to the Wielder-of-Wonders, with words I say,
for what I behold, to Heaven's Lord,
for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk
or ever the day of my death be run!
Now I've bartered here for booty of treasure
the last of my life, so look ye well
to the needs of my land! No longer I tarry.
A barrow bid ye the battle-fanned raise
for my ashes. 'Twill shine by the shore of the flood,
to folk of mine memorial fair
on Hrones Headland high uplifted,
that ocean-wanderers oft may hail
Beowulf's Barrow, as back from far
they drive their keels o'er the darkling wave."
From his neck he unclasped the collar of gold,
valorous king, to his vassal gave it
with bright-gold helmet, breastplate, and ring,
to the youthful thane: bade him use them in joy.
"Thou art end and remnant of all our race
the Waegmunding name. For Wyrd hath swept them,
all my line, to the land of doom,
earls in their glory: I after them go."
This word was the last which the wise old man
harbored in heart ere hot death-waves
of balefire he chose. From his bosom fled
his soul to seek the saints' reward.
IT was heavy hap for that hero young
on his lord beloved to look and find him
lying on earth with life at end,
sorrowful sight. But the slayer too,
awful earth-dragon, empty of breath,
lay felled in fight, nor, fain of its treasure,
could the writhing monster rule it more.
For edges of iron had ended its days,
hard and battle-sharp, hammers' leaving;
and that flier-afar had fallen to ground
hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near,
no longer lusty aloft to whirl
at midnight, making its merriment seen,
proud of its prizes: prone it sank
by the handiwork of the hero-king.
Forsooth among folk but few achieve,
-- though sturdy and strong, as stories tell me,
and never so daring in deed of valor, --
the perilous breath of a poison-foe
to brave, and to rush on the ring-board hall,
whenever his watch the warden keeps
bold in the barrow. Beowulf paid
the price of death for that precious hoard;
and each of the foes had found the end
of this fleeting life. Befell erelong
that the laggards in war the wood had left,
trothbreakers, cowards, ten together,
fearing before to flourish a spear
in the sore distress of their sovran lord.
Now in their shame their shields they carried,
armor of fight, where the old man lay;
and they gazed on Wiglaf. Wearied he sat
at his sovran's shoulder, shieldsman good,
to wake him with water. Nowise it availed.
Though well he wished it, in world no more
could he barrier life for that leader-of-battles
nor baffle the will of all-wielding God.
Doom of the Lord was law o'er the deeds
of every man, as it is to-day.
Grim was the answer, easy to get,
from the youth for those that had yielded to fear!
Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan, --
mournful he looked on those men unloved:--
"Who sooth will speak, can say indeed
that the ruler who gave you golden rings
and the harness of war in which ye stand
-- for he at ale-bench often-times
bestowed on hall-folk helm and breastplate,
lord to liegemen, the likeliest gear
which near of far he could find to give, --
threw away and wasted these weeds of battle,
on men who failed when the foemen came!
Not at all could the king of his comrades-in-arms
venture to vaunt, though the Victory-Wielder,
God, gave him grace that he got revenge
sole with his sword in stress and need.
To rescue his life, 'twas little that I
could serve him in struggle; yet shift I made
(hopeless it seemed) to help my kinsman.
Its strength ever waned, when with weapon I struck
that fatal foe, and the fire less strongly
flowed from its head. -- Too few the heroes
in throe of contest that thronged to our king!
Now gift of treasure and girding of sword,
joy of the house and home-delight
shall fail your folk; his freehold-land
every clansman within your kin
shall lose and leave, when lords highborn
hear afar of that flight of yours,
a fameless deed. Yea, death is better
for liegemen all than a life of shame!"
THAT battle-toil bade he at burg to announce,
at the fort on the cliff, where, full of sorrow,
all the morning earls had sat,
daring shieldsmen, in doubt of twain:
would they wail as dead, or welcome home,
their lord beloved? Little kept back
of the tidings new, but told them all,
the herald that up the headland rode. --
"Now the willing-giver to Weder folk
in death-bed lies; the Lord of Geats
on the slaughter-bed sleeps by the serpent's deed!
And beside him is stretched that slayer-of-men
with knife-wounds sick: no sword availed
on the awesome thing in any wise
to work a wound. There Wiglaf sitteth,
Weohstan's bairn, by Beowulf's side,
the living earl by the other dead,
and heavy of heart a head-watch keeps
o'er friend and foe. -- Now our folk may look
for waging of war when once unhidden
to Frisian and Frank the fall of the king
is spread afar. -- The strife began
when hot on the Hugas Hygelac fell
and fared with his fleet to the Frisian land.
Him there the Hetwaras humbled in war,
plied with such prowess their power o'erwhelming
that the bold-in-battle bowed beneath it
and fell in fight. To his friends no wise
could that earl give treasure! And ever since
the Merowings' favor has failed us wholly.
Nor aught expect I of peace and faith
from Swedish folk. 'Twas spread afar
how Ongentheow reft at Ravenswood
Haethcyn Hrethling of hope and life,
when the folk of Geats for the first time sought
in wanton pride the Warlike-Scylfings.
Soon the sage old sire of Ohtere,
ancient and awful, gave answering blow;
the sea-king he slew, and his spouse redeemed,
his good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold,
mother of Ohtere and Onela.
Then he followed his foes, who fled before him
sore beset and stole their way,
bereft of a ruler, to Ravenswood.
With his host he besieged there what swords had left,
the weary and wounded; woes he threatened
the whole night through to that hard-pressed throng:
some with the morrow his sword should kill,
some should go to the gallows-tree
for rapture of ravens. But rescue came
with dawn of day for those desperate men
when they heard the horn of Hygelac sound,
tones of his trumpet; the trusty king
had followed their trail with faithful band.
"THE bloody swath of Swedes and Geats
and the storm of their strife, were seen afar,
how folk against folk the fight had wakened.
The ancient king with his atheling band
sought his citadel, sorrowing much:
Ongentheow earl went up to his burg.
He had tested Hygelac's hardihood,
the proud one's prowess, would prove it no longer,
defied no more those fighting-wanderers
nor hoped from the seamen to save his hoard,
his bairn and his bride: so he bent him again,
old, to his earth-walls. Yet after him came
with slaughter for Swedes the standards of Hygelac
o'er peaceful plains in pride advancing,
till Hrethelings fought in the fenced town.
Then Ongentheow with edge of sword,
the hoary-bearded, was held at bay,
and the folk-king there was forced to suffer
Eofor's anger. In ire, at the king
Wulf Wonreding with weapon struck;
and the chieftain's blood, for that blow, in streams
flowed 'neath his hair. No fear felt he,
stout old Scylfing, but straightway repaid
in better bargain that bitter stroke
and faced his foe with fell intent.
Nor swift enough was the son of Wonred
answer to render the aged chief;
too soon on his head the helm was cloven;
blood-bedecked he bowed to earth,
and fell adown; not doomed was he yet,
and well he waxed, though the wound was sore.
Then the hardy Hygelac-thane,
when his brother fell, with broad brand smote,
giants' sword crashing through giants'-helm
across the shield-wall: sank the king,
his folk's old herdsman, fatally hurt.
There were many to bind the brother's wounds
and lift him, fast as fate allowed
his people to wield the place-of-war.
But Eofor took from Ongentheow,
earl from other, the iron-breastplate,
hard sword hilted, and helmet too,
and the hoar-chief's harness to Hygelac carried,
who took the trappings, and truly promised
rich fee 'mid folk, -- and fulfilled it so.
For that grim strife gave the Geatish lord,
Hrethel's offspring, when home he came,
to Eofor and Wulf a wealth of treasure,
Each of them had a hundred thousand
in land and linked rings; nor at less price reckoned
mid-earth men such mighty deeds!
And to Eofor he gave his only daughter
in pledge of grace, the pride of his home.
"Such is the feud, the foeman's rage,
death-hate of men: so I deem it sure
that the Swedish folk will seek us home
for this fall of their friends, the fighting-Scylfings,
when once they learn that our warrior leader
lifeless lies, who land and hoard
ever defended from all his foes,
furthered his folk's weal, finished his course
a hardy hero. -- Now haste is best,
that we go to gaze on our Geatish lord,
and bear the bountiful breaker-of-rings
to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely
shall burn with the warrior. Wealth of jewels,
gold untold and gained in terror,
treasure at last with his life obtained,
all of that booty the brands shall take,
fire shall eat it. No earl must carry
memorial jewel. No maiden fair
shall wreathe her neck with noble ring:
nay, sad in spirit and shorn of her gold,
oft shall she pass o'er paths of exile
now our lord all laughter has laid aside,
all mirth and revel. Many a spear
morning-cold shall be clasped amain,
lifted aloft; nor shall lilt of harp
those warriors wake; but the wan-hued raven,
fain o'er the fallen, his feast shall praise
and boast to the eagle how bravely he ate
when he and the wolf were wasting the slain."
So he told his sorrowful tidings,
and little he lied, the loyal man
of word or of work. The warriors rose;
sad, they climbed to the Cliff-of-Eagles,
went, welling with tears, the wonder to view.
Found on the sand there, stretched at rest,
their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings
of old upon them. Ending-day
had dawned on the doughty-one; death had seized
in woful slaughter the Weders' king.
There saw they, besides, the strangest being,
loathsome, lying their leader near,
prone on the field. The fiery dragon,
fearful fiend, with flame was scorched.
Reckoned by feet, it was fifty measures
in length as it lay. Aloft erewhile
it had revelled by night, and anon come back,
seeking its den; now in death's sure clutch
it had come to the end of its earth-hall joys.
By it there stood the stoups and jars;
dishes lay there, and dear-decked swords
eaten with rust, as, on earth's lap resting,
a thousand winters they waited there.
For all that heritage huge, that gold
of bygone men, was bound by a spell,
so the treasure-hall could be touched by none
of human kind, -- save that Heaven's King,
God himself, might give whom he would,
Helper of Heroes, the hoard to open, --
even such a man as seemed to him meet.
A PERILOUS path, it proved, he trod
who heinously hid, that hall within,
wealth under wall! Its watcher had killed
one of a few, and the feud was avenged
in woful fashion. Wondrous seems it,
what manner a man of might and valor
oft ends his life, when the earl no longer
in mead-hall may live with loving friends.
So Beowulf, when that barrow's warden
he sought, and the struggle; himself knew not
in what wise he should wend from the world at last.
For princes potent, who placed the gold,
with a curse to doomsday covered it deep,
so that marked with sin the man should be,
hedged with horrors, in hell-bonds fast,
racked with plagues, who should rob their hoard.
Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of heaven,
ever the king had kept in view.
Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan:--
"At the mandate of one, oft warriors many
sorrow must suffer; and so must we.
The people's-shepherd showed not aught
of care for our counsel, king beloved!
That guardian of gold he should grapple not, urged we,
but let him lie where he long had been
in his earth-hall waiting the end of the world,
the hest of heaven. -- This hoard is ours
but grievously gotten; too grim the fate
which thither carried our king and lord.
I was within there, and all I viewed,
the chambered treasure, when chance allowed me
(and my path was made in no pleasant wise)
under the earth-wall. Eager, I seized
such heap from the hoard as hands could bear
and hurriedly carried it hither back
to my liege and lord. Alive was he still,
still wielding his wits. The wise old man
spake much in his sorrow, and sent you greetings
and bade that ye build, when he breathed no more,
on the place of his balefire a barrow high,
memorial mighty. Of men was he
worthiest warrior wide earth o'er
the while he had joy of his jewels and burg.
Let us set out in haste now, the second time
to see and search this store of treasure,
these wall-hid wonders, -- the way I show you, --
where, gathered near, ye may gaze your fill
at broad-gold and rings. Let the bier, soon made,
be all in order when out we come,
our king and captain to carry thither
-- man beloved -- where long he shall bide
safe in the shelter of sovran God."
Then the bairn of Weohstan bade command,
hardy chief, to heroes many
that owned their homesteads, hither to bring
firewood from far -- o'er the folk they ruled --
for the famed-one's funeral. " Fire shall devour
and wan flames feed on the fearless warrior
who oft stood stout in the iron-shower,
when, sped from the string, a storm of arrows
shot o'er the shield-wall: the shaft held firm,
featly feathered, followed the barb."
And now the sage young son of Weohstan
seven chose of the chieftain's thanes,
the best he found that band within,
and went with these warriors, one of eight,
under hostile roof. In hand one bore
a lighted torch and led the way.
No lots they cast for keeping the hoard
when once the warriors saw it in hall,
altogether without a guardian,
lying there lost. And little they mourned
when they had hastily haled it out,
dear-bought treasure! The dragon they cast,
the worm, o'er the wall for the wave to take,
and surges swallowed that shepherd of gems.
Then the woven gold on a wain was laden --
countless quite! -- and the king was borne,
hoary hero, to Hrones-Ness.
THEN fashioned for him the folk of Geats
firm on the earth a funeral-pile,
and hung it with helmets and harness of war
and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;
and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,
heroes mourning their master dear.
Then on the hill that hugest of balefires
the warriors wakened. Wood-smoke rose
black over blaze, and blent was the roar
of flame with weeping (the wind was still),
till the fire had broken the frame of bones,
hot at the heart. In heavy mood
their misery moaned they, their master's death.
Wailing her woe, the widow old,
her hair upbound, for Beowulf's death
sung in her sorrow, and said full oft
she dreaded the doleful days to come,
deaths enow, and doom of battle,
and shame. -- The smoke by the sky was devoured.
The folk of the Weders fashioned there
on the headland a barrow broad and high,
by ocean-farers far descried:
in ten days' time their toil had raised it,
the battle-brave's beacon. Round brands of the pyre
a wall they built, the worthiest ever
that wit could prompt in their wisest men.
They placed in the barrow that precious booty,
the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile,
hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, --
trusting the ground with treasure of earls,
gold in the earth, where ever it lies
useless to men as of yore it was.
Then about that barrow the battle-keen rode,
atheling-born, a band of twelve,
lament to make, to mourn their king,
chant their dirge, and their chieftain honor.
They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess
worthily witnessed: and well it is
that men their master-friend mightily laud,
heartily love, when hence he goes
from life in the body forlorn away.
Thus made their mourning the men of Geatland,
for their hero's passing his hearth-companions:
quoth that of all the kings of earth,
of men he was mildest and most beloved,
to his kin the kindest, keenest for praise."
Ryan smiles and takes a deep breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
Ryan: "And alas, the great work is finished."
"This will conclude our time together. I hope that Misters Daymon and Benjamin enjoyed this moment of culture as much as I have, and I do look forward to meeting both fine chaps in Pittsburgh."
"Good day then."
The classical music gets louder as Ryan looks back down into his book and we FADE OUT....
FADE IN
Classical music fills the air as we see a beautiful study. Oak furniture decorates the room, highlighted by a large desk in the center.
Behind the desk sits Dan Ryan. On his face are a pair of reading glasses and hanging from his lips, a pipe.
Ryan's eyes arch slightly upward as the scene begins.
Ryan: "I should like to take this oppurtunity to share a life-long pursuit of mine....one which anyone who knows me would be easily able to share with you. The vice I speak of, naturally is my love of literature."
"And as such, with Mr. Daymon having recently regaled us all with a passage from Beowulf, I thought it a disservice to the piece to not present it in context so that we might gain a true portrait of the meaning of this masterful text."
"Therefore I, Dan Ryan.....now humbly present to you the entire text of Beowulf...in the original Old English."
"I will begin.....now."
"LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled....
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
to say in sooth, no son of the halls,
no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!
Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings,
leader beloved, and long he ruled
in fame with all folk, since his father had gone
away from the world, till awoke an heir,
haughty Healfdene, who held through life,
sage and sturdy, the Scyldings glad.
Then, one after one, there woke to him,
to the chieftain of clansmen, children four:
Heorogar, then Hrothgar, then Halga brave;
and I heard that -- was --'s queen,
the Heathoscylfing's helpmate dear.
To Hrothgar was given such glory of war,
such honor of combat, that all his kin
obeyed him gladly till great grew his band
of youthful comrades. It came in his mind
to bid his henchmen a hall uprear,
a master mead-house, mightier far
than ever was seen by the sons of earth,
and within it, then, to old and young
he would all allot that the Lord had sent him,
save only the land and the lives of his men.
Wide, I heard, was the work commanded,
for many a tribe this mid-earth round,
to fashion the folkstead. It fell, as he ordered,
in rapid achievement that ready it stood there,
of halls the noblest: Heorot he named it
whose message had might in many a land.
Not reckless of promise, the rings he dealt,
treasure at banquet: there towered the hall,
high, gabled wide, the hot surge waiting
of furious flame. Nor far was that day
when father and son-in-law stood in feud
for warfare and hatred that woke again.
With envy and anger an evil spirit
endured the dole in his dark abode,
that he heard each day the din of revel
high in the hall: there harps rang out,
clear song of the singer. He sang who knew
tales of the early time of man,
how the Almighty made the earth,
fairest fields enfolded by water,
set, triumphant, sun and moon
for a light to lighten the land-dwellers,
and braided bright the breast of earth
with limbs and leaves, made life for all
of mortal beings that breathe and move.
So lived the clansmen in cheer and revel
a winsome life, till one began
to fashion evils, that field of hell.
Grendel this monster grim was called,
march-riever mighty, in moorland living,
in fen and fastness; fief of the giants
the hapless wight a while had kept
since the Creator his exile doomed.
On kin of Cain was the killing avenged
by sovran God for slaughtered Abel.
Ill fared his feud, and far was he driven,
for the slaughter's sake, from sight of men.
Of Cain awoke all that woful breed,
Etins and elves and evil-spirits,
as well as the giants that warred with God
weary while: but their wage was paid them!
WENT he forth to find at fall of night
that haughty house, and heed wherever
the Ring-Danes, outrevelled, to rest had gone.
Found within it the atheling band
asleep after feasting and fearless of sorrow,
of human hardship. Unhallowed wight,
grim and greedy, he grasped betimes,
wrathful, reckless, from resting-places,
thirty of the thanes, and thence he rushed
fain of his fell spoil, faring homeward,
laden with slaughter, his lair to seek.
Then at the dawning, as day was breaking,
the might of Grendel to men was known;
then after wassail was wail uplifted,
loud moan in the morn. The mighty chief,
atheling excellent, unblithe sat,
labored in woe for the loss of his thanes,
when once had been traced the trail of the fiend,
spirit accurst: too cruel that sorrow,
too long, too loathsome. Not late the respite;
with night returning, anew began
ruthless murder; he recked no whit,
firm in his guilt, of the feud and crime.
They were easy to find who elsewhere sought
in room remote their rest at night,
bed in the bowers, when that bale was shown,
was seen in sooth, with surest token, --
the hall-thane's hate. Such held themselves
far and fast who the fiend outran!
Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill
one against all; until empty stood
that lordly building, and long it bode so.
Twelve years' tide the trouble he bore,
sovran of Scyldings, sorrows in plenty,
boundless cares. There came unhidden
tidings true to the tribes of men,
in sorrowful songs, how ceaselessly Grendel
harassed Hrothgar, what hate he bore him,
what murder and massacre, many a year,
feud unfading, -- refused consent
to deal with any of Daneland's earls,
make pact of peace, or compound for gold:
still less did the wise men ween to get
great fee for the feud from his fiendish hands.
But the evil one ambushed old and young
death-shadow dark, and dogged them still,
lured, or lurked in the livelong night
of misty moorlands: men may say not
where the haunts of these Hell-Runes be.
Such heaping of horrors the hater of men,
lonely roamer, wrought unceasing,
harassings heavy. O'er Heorot he lorded,
gold-bright hall, in gloomy nights;
and ne'er could the prince approach his throne,
-- 'twas judgment of God, -- or have joy in his hall.
Sore was the sorrow to Scyldings'-friend,
heart-rending misery. Many nobles
sat assembled, and searched out counsel
how it were best for bold-hearted men
against harassing terror to try their hand.
Whiles they vowed in their heathen fanes
altar-offerings, asked with words
that the slayer-of-souls would succor give them
for the pain of their people. Their practice this,
their heathen hope; 'twas Hell they thought of
in mood of their mind. Almighty they knew not,
Doomsman of Deeds and dreadful Lord,
nor Heaven's-Helmet heeded they ever,
Wielder-of-Wonder. -- Woe for that man
who in harm and hatred hales his soul
to fiery embraces; -- nor favor nor change
awaits he ever. But well for him
that after death-day may draw to his Lord,
and friendship find in the Father's arms!
THUS seethed unceasing the son of Healfdene
with the woe of these days; not wisest men
assuaged his sorrow; too sore the anguish,
loathly and long, that lay on his folk,
most baneful of burdens and bales of the night.
This heard in his home Hygelac's thane,
great among Geats, of Grendel's doings.
He was the mightiest man of valor
in that same day of this our life,
stalwart and stately. A stout wave-walker
he bade make ready. Yon battle-king, said he,
far o'er the swan-road he fain would seek,
the noble monarch who needed men!
The prince's journey by prudent folk
was little blamed, though they loved him dear;
they whetted the hero, and hailed good omens.
And now the bold one from bands of Geats
comrades chose, the keenest of warriors
e'er he could find; with fourteen men
the sea-wood he sought, and, sailor proved,
led them on to the land's confines.
Time had now flown; afloat was the ship,
boat under bluff. On board they climbed,
warriors ready; waves were churning
sea with sand; the sailors bore
on the breast of the bark their bright array,
their mail and weapons: the men pushed off,
on its willing way, the well-braced craft.
Then moved o'er the waters by might of the wind
that bark like a bird with breast of foam,
till in season due, on the second day,
the curved prow such course had run
that sailors now could see the land,
sea-cliffs shining, steep high hills,
headlands broad. Their haven was found,
their journey ended. Up then quickly
the Weders' clansmen climbed ashore,
anchored their sea-wood, with armor clashing
and gear of battle: God they thanked
for passing in peace o'er the paths of the sea.
Now saw from the cliff a Scylding clansman,
a warden that watched the water-side,
how they bore o'er the gangway glittering shields,
war-gear in readiness; wonder seized him
to know what manner of men they were.
Straight to the strand his steed he rode,
Hrothgar's henchman; with hand of might
he shook his spear, and spake in parley.
"Who are ye, then, ye armed men,
mailed folk, that yon mighty vessel
have urged thus over the ocean ways,
here o'er the waters? A warden I,
sentinel set o'er the sea-march here,
lest any foe to the folk of Danes
with harrying fleet should harm the land.
No aliens ever at ease thus bore them,
linden-wielders: yet word-of-leave
clearly ye lack from clansmen here,
my folk's agreement. -- A greater ne'er saw I
of warriors in world than is one of you, --
yon hero in harness! No henchman he
worthied by weapons, if witness his features,
his peerless presence! I pray you, though, tell
your folk and home, lest hence ye fare
suspect to wander your way as spies
in Danish land. Now, dwellers afar,
ocean-travellers, take from me
simple advice: the sooner the better
I hear of the country whence ye came."
To him the stateliest spake in answer;
the warriors' leader his word-hoard unlocked:--
"We are by kin of the clan of Geats,
and Hygelac's own hearth-fellows we.
To folk afar was my father known,
noble atheling, Ecgtheow named.
Full of winters, he fared away
aged from earth; he is honored still
through width of the world by wise men all.
To thy lord and liege in loyal mood
we hasten hither, to Healfdene's son,
people-protector: be pleased to advise us!
To that mighty-one come we on mickle errand,
to the lord of the Danes; nor deem I right
that aught be hidden. We hear -- thou knowest
if sooth it is -- the saying of men,
that amid the Scyldings a scathing monster,
dark ill-doer, in dusky nights
shows terrific his rage unmatched,
hatred and murder. To Hrothgar I
in greatness of soul would succor bring,
so the Wise-and-Brave may worst his foes, --
if ever the end of ills is fated,
of cruel contest, if cure shall follow,
and the boiling care-waves cooler grow;
else ever afterward anguish-days
he shall suffer in sorrow while stands in place
high on its hill that house unpeered!"
Astride his steed, the strand-ward answered,
clansman unquailing: "The keen-souled thane
must be skilled to sever and sunder duly
words and works, if he well intends.
I gather, this band is graciously bent
to the Scyldings' master. March, then, bearing
weapons and weeds the way I show you.
I will bid my men your boat meanwhile
to guard for fear lest foemen come, --
your new-tarred ship by shore of ocean
faithfully watching till once again
it waft o'er the waters those well-loved thanes,
-- winding-neck'd wood, -- to Weders' bounds,
heroes such as the hest of fate
shall succor and save from the shock of war."
They bent them to march, -- the boat lay still,
fettered by cable and fast at anchor,
broad-bosomed ship. -- Then shone the boars
over the cheek-guard; chased with gold,
keen and gleaming, guard it kept
o'er the man of war, as marched along
heroes in haste, till the hall they saw,
broad of gable and bright with gold:
that was the fairest, 'mid folk of earth,
of houses 'neath heaven, where Hrothgar lived,
and the gleam of it lightened o'er lands afar.
The sturdy shieldsman showed that bright
burg-of-the-boldest; bade them go
straightway thither; his steed then turned,
hardy hero, and hailed them thus:--
"Tis time that I fare from you. Father Almighty
in grace and mercy guard you well,
safe in your seekings. Seaward I go,
'gainst hostile warriors hold my watch."
STONE-BRIGHT the street: it showed the way
to the crowd of clansmen. Corselets glistened
hand-forged, hard; on their harness bright
the steel ring sang, as they strode along
in mail of battle, and marched to the hall.
There, weary of ocean, the wall along
they set their bucklers, their broad shields, down,
and bowed them to bench: the breastplates clanged,
war-gear of men; their weapons stacked,
spears of the seafarers stood together,
gray-tipped ash: that iron band
was worthily weaponed! -- A warrior proud
asked of the heroes their home and kin.
"Whence, now, bear ye burnished shields,
harness gray and helmets grim,
spears in multitude? Messenger, I,
Hrothgar's herald! Heroes so many
ne'er met I as strangers of mood so strong.
'Tis plain that for prowess, not plunged into exile,
for high-hearted valor, Hrothgar ye seek!"
Him the sturdy-in-war bespake with words,
proud earl of the Weders answer made,
hardy 'neath helmet:--"Hygelac's, we,
fellows at board; I am Beowulf named.
I am seeking to say to the son of Healfdene
this mission of mine, to thy master-lord,
the doughty prince, if he deign at all
grace that we greet him, the good one, now."
Wulfgar spake, the Wendles' chieftain,
whose might of mind to many was known,
his courage and counsel: "The king of Danes,
the Scyldings' friend, I fain will tell,
the Breaker-of-Rings, as the boon thou askest,
the famed prince, of thy faring hither,
and, swiftly after, such answer bring
as the doughty monarch may deign to give."
Hied then in haste to where Hrothgar sat
white-haired and old, his earls about him,
till the stout thane stood at the shoulder there
of the Danish king: good courtier he!
Wulfgar spake to his winsome lord:--
"Hither have fared to thee far-come men
o'er the paths of ocean, people of Geatland;
and the stateliest there by his sturdy band
is Beowulf named. This boon they seek,
that they, my master, may with thee
have speech at will: nor spurn their prayer
to give them hearing, gracious Hrothgar!
In weeds of the warrior worthy they,
methinks, of our liking; their leader most surely,
a hero that hither his henchmen has led."
HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings:--
"I knew him of yore in his youthful days;
his aged father was Ecgtheow named,
to whom, at home, gave Hrethel the Geat
his only daughter. Their offspring bold
fares hither to seek the steadfast friend.
And seamen, too, have said me this, --
who carried my gifts to the Geatish court,
thither for thanks, -- he has thirty men's
heft of grasp in the gripe of his hand,
the bold-in-battle. Blessed God
out of his mercy this man hath sent
to Danes of the West, as I ween indeed,
against horror of Grendel. I hope to give
the good youth gold for his gallant thought.
Be thou in haste, and bid them hither,
clan of kinsmen, to come before me;
and add this word, -- they are welcome guests
to folk of the Danes." [To the door of the hall
Wulfgar went] and the word declared:--
"To you this message my master sends,
East-Danes' king, that your kin he knows,
hardy heroes, and hails you all
welcome hither o'er waves of the sea!
Ye may wend your way in war-attire,
and under helmets Hrothgar greet;
but let here the battle-shields bide your parley,
and wooden war-shafts wait its end."
Uprose the mighty one, ringed with his men,
brave band of thanes: some bode without,
battle-gear guarding, as bade the chief.
Then hied that troop where the herald led them,
under Heorot's roof: [the hero strode,]
hardy 'neath helm, till the hearth he neared.
Beowulf spake, -- his breastplate gleamed,
war-net woven by wit of the smith:--
"Thou Hrothgar, hail! Hygelac's I,
kinsman and follower. Fame a plenty
have I gained in youth! These Grendel-deeds
I heard in my home-land heralded clear.
Seafarers say how stands this hall,
of buildings best, for your band of thanes
empty and idle, when evening sun
in the harbor of heaven is hidden away.
So my vassals advised me well, --
brave and wise, the best of men, --
O sovran Hrothgar, to seek thee here,
for my nerve and my might they knew full well.
Themselves had seen me from slaughter come
blood-flecked from foes, where five I bound,
and that wild brood worsted. I' the waves I slew
nicors by night, in need and peril
avenging the Weders, whose woe they sought, --
crushing the grim ones. Grendel now,
monster cruel, be mine to quell
in single battle! So, from thee,
thou sovran of the Shining-Danes,
Scyldings'-bulwark, a boon I seek, --
and, Friend-of-the-folk, refuse it not,
O Warriors'-shield, now I've wandered far, --
that I alone with my liegemen here,
this hardy band, may Heorot purge!
More I hear, that the monster dire,
in his wanton mood, of weapons recks not;
hence shall I scorn -- so Hygelac stay,
king of my kindred, kind to me! --
brand or buckler to bear in the fight,
gold-colored targe: but with gripe alone
must I front the fiend and fight for life,
foe against foe. Then faith be his
in the doom of the Lord whom death shall take.
Fain, I ween, if the fight he win,
in this hall of gold my Geatish band
will he fearless eat, -- as oft before, --
my noblest thanes. Nor need'st thou then
to hide my head; for his shall I be,
dyed in gore, if death must take me;
and my blood-covered body he'll bear as prey,
ruthless devour it, the roamer-lonely,
with my life-blood redden his lair in the fen:
no further for me need'st food prepare!
To Hygelac send, if Hild should take me,
best of war-weeds, warding my breast,
armor excellent, heirloom of Hrethel
and work of Wayland. Fares Wyrd as she must."
HROTHGAR spake, the Scyldings'-helmet:--
"For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf,
to succor and save, thou hast sought us here.
Thy father's combat a feud enkindled
when Heatholaf with hand he slew
among the Wylfings; his Weder kin
for horror of fighting feared to hold him.
Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk,
over surge of ocean the Honor-Scyldings,
when first I was ruling the folk of Danes,
wielded, youthful, this widespread realm,
this hoard-hold of heroes. Heorogar was dead,
my elder brother, had breathed his last,
Healfdene's bairn: he was better than I!
Straightway the feud with fee I settled,
to the Wylfings sent, o'er watery ridges,
treasures olden: oaths he swore me.
Sore is my soul to say to any
of the race of man what ruth for me
in Heorot Grendel with hate hath wrought,
what sudden harryings. Hall-folk fail me,
my warriors wane; for Wyrd hath swept them
into Grendel's grasp. But God is able
this deadly foe from his deeds to turn!
Boasted full oft, as my beer they drank,
earls o'er the ale-cup, armed men,
that they would bide in the beer-hall here,
Grendel's attack with terror of blades.
Then was this mead-house at morning tide
dyed with gore, when the daylight broke,
all the boards of the benches blood-besprinkled,
gory the hall: I had heroes the less,
doughty dear-ones that death had reft.
-- But sit to the banquet, unbind thy words,
hardy hero, as heart shall prompt thee."
Gathered together, the Geatish men
in the banquet-hall on bench assigned,
sturdy-spirited, sat them down,
hardy-hearted. A henchman attended,
carried the carven cup in hand,
served the clear mead. Oft minstrels sang
blithe in Heorot. Heroes revelled,
no dearth of warriors, Weder and Dane.
UNFERTH spake, the son of Ecglaf,
who sat at the feet of the Scyldings' lord,
unbound the battle-runes. -- Beowulf's quest,
sturdy seafarer's, sorely galled him;
ever he envied that other men
should more achieve in middle-earth
of fame under heaven than he himself. --
"Art thou that Beowulf, Breca's rival,
who emulous swam on the open sea,
when for pride the pair of you proved the floods,
and wantonly dared in waters deep
to risk your lives? No living man,
or lief or loath, from your labor dire
could you dissuade, from swimming the main.
Ocean-tides with your arms ye covered,
with strenuous hands the sea-streets measured,
swam o'er the waters. Winter's storm
rolled the rough waves. In realm of sea
a sennight strove ye. In swimming he topped thee,
had more of main! Him at morning-tide
billows bore to the Battling Reamas,
whence he hied to his home so dear
beloved of his liegemen, to land of Brondings,
fastness fair, where his folk he ruled,
town and treasure. In triumph o'er thee
Beanstan's bairn his boast achieved.
So ween I for thee a worse adventure
-- though in buffet of battle thou brave hast been,
in struggle grim, -- if Grendel's approach
thou darst await through the watch of night!"
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"What a deal hast uttered, dear my Unferth,
drunken with beer, of Breca now,
told of his triumph! Truth I claim it,
that I had more of might in the sea
than any man else, more ocean-endurance.
We twain had talked, in time of youth,
and made our boast, -- we were merely boys,
striplings still, -- to stake our lives
far at sea: and so we performed it.
Naked swords, as we swam along,
we held in hand, with hope to guard us
against the whales. Not a whit from me
could he float afar o'er the flood of waves,
haste o'er the billows; nor him I abandoned.
Together we twain on the tides abode
five nights full till the flood divided us,
churning waves and chillest weather,
darkling night, and the northern wind
ruthless rushed on us: rough was the surge.
Now the wrath of the sea-fish rose apace;
yet me 'gainst the monsters my mailed coat,
hard and hand-linked, help afforded, --
battle-sark braided my breast to ward,
garnished with gold. There grasped me firm
and haled me to bottom the hated foe,
with grimmest gripe. 'Twas granted me, though,
to pierce the monster with point of sword,
with blade of battle: huge beast of the sea
was whelmed by the hurly through hand of mine.
ME thus often the evil monsters
thronging threatened. With thrust of my sword,
the darling, I dealt them due return!
Nowise had they bliss from their booty then
to devour their victim, vengeful creatures,
seated to banquet at bottom of sea;
but at break of day, by my brand sore hurt,
on the edge of ocean up they lay,
put to sleep by the sword. And since, by them
on the fathomless sea-ways sailor-folk
are never molested. -- Light from east,
came bright God's beacon; the billows sank,
so that I saw the sea-cliffs high,
windy walls. For Wyrd oft saveth
earl undoomed if he doughty be!
And so it came that I killed with my sword
nine of the nicors. Of night-fought battles
ne'er heard I a harder 'neath heaven's dome,
nor adrift on the deep a more desolate man!
Yet I came unharmed from that hostile clutch,
though spent with swimming. The sea upbore me,
flood of the tide, on Finnish land,
the welling waters. No wise of thee
have I heard men tell such terror of falchions,
bitter battle. Breca ne'er yet,
not one of you pair, in the play of war
such daring deed has done at all
with bloody brand, -- I boast not of it! --
though thou wast the bane of thy brethren dear,
thy closest kin, whence curse of hell
awaits thee, well as thy wit may serve!
For I say in sooth, thou son of Ecglaf,
never had Grendel these grim deeds wrought,
monster dire, on thy master dear,
in Heorot such havoc, if heart of thine
were as battle-bold as thy boast is loud!
But he has found no feud will happen;
from sword-clash dread of your Danish clan
he vaunts him safe, from the Victor-Scyldings.
He forces pledges, favors none
of the land of Danes, but lustily murders,
fights and feasts, nor feud he dreads
from Spear-Dane men. But speedily now
shall I prove him the prowess and pride of the Geats,
shall bid him battle. Blithe to mead
go he that listeth, when light of dawn
this morrow morning o'er men of earth,
ether-robed sun from the south shall beam!"
Joyous then was the Jewel-giver,
hoar-haired, war-brave; help awaited
the Bright-Danes' prince, from Beowulf hearing,
folk's good shepherd, such firm resolve.
Then was laughter of liegemen loud resounding
with winsome words. Came Wealhtheow forth,
queen of Hrothgar, heedful of courtesy,
gold-decked, greeting the guests in hall;
and the high-born lady handed the cup
first to the East-Danes' heir and warden,
bade him be blithe at the beer-carouse,
the land's beloved one. Lustily took he
banquet and beaker, battle-famed king.
Through the hall then went the Helmings' Lady,
to younger and older everywhere
carried the cup, till come the moment
when the ring-graced queen, the royal-hearted,
to Beowulf bore the beaker of mead.
She greeted the Geats' lord, God she thanked,
in wisdom's words, that her will was granted,
that at last on a hero her hope could lean
for comfort in terrors. The cup he took,
hardy-in-war, from Wealhtheow's hand,
and answer uttered the eager-for-combat.
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"This was my thought, when my thanes and I
bent to the ocean and entered our boat,
that I would work the will of your people
fully, or fighting fall in death,
in fiend's gripe fast. I am firm to do
an earl's brave deed, or end the days
of this life of mine in the mead-hall here."
Well these words to the woman seemed,
Beowulf's battle-boast. -- Bright with gold
the stately dame by her spouse sat down.
Again, as erst, began in hall
warriors' wassail and words of power,
the proud-band's revel, till presently
the son of Healfdene hastened to seek
rest for the night; he knew there waited
fight for the fiend in that festal hall,
when the sheen of the sun they saw no more,
and dusk of night sank darkling nigh,
and shadowy shapes came striding on,
wan under welkin. The warriors rose.
Man to man, he made harangue,
Hrothgar to Beowulf, bade him hail,
let him wield the wine hall: a word he added:--
"Never to any man erst I trusted,
since I could heave up hand and shield,
this noble Dane-Hall, till now to thee.
Have now and hold this house unpeered;
remember thy glory; thy might declare;
watch for the foe! No wish shall fail thee
if thou bidest the battle with bold-won life."
THEN Hrothgar went with his hero-train,
defence-of-Scyldings, forth from hall;
fain would the war-lord Wealhtheow seek,
couch of his queen. The King-of-Glory
against this Grendel a guard had set,
so heroes heard, a hall-defender,
who warded the monarch and watched for the monster.
In truth, the Geats' prince gladly trusted
his mettle, his might, the mercy of God!
Cast off then his corselet of iron,
helmet from head; to his henchman gave, --
choicest of weapons, -- the well-chased sword,
bidding him guard the gear of battle.
Spake then his Vaunt the valiant man,
Beowulf Geat, ere the bed be sought:--
"Of force in fight no feebler I count me,
in grim war-deeds, than Grendel deems him.
Not with the sword, then, to sleep of death
his life will I give, though it lie in my power.
No skill is his to strike against me,
my shield to hew though he hardy be,
bold in battle; we both, this night,
shall spurn the sword, if he seek me here,
unweaponed, for war. Let wisest God,
sacred Lord, on which side soever
doom decree as he deemeth right."
Reclined then the chieftain, and cheek-pillows held
the head of the earl, while all about him
seamen hardy on hall-beds sank.
None of them thought that thence their steps
to the folk and fastness that fostered them,
to the land they loved, would lead them back!
Full well they wist that on warriors many
battle-death seized, in the banquet-hall,
of Danish clan. But comfort and help,
war-weal weaving, to Weder folk
the Master gave, that, by might of one,
over their enemy all prevailed,
by single strength. In sooth 'tis told
that highest God o'er human kind
hath wielded ever! -- Thro' wan night striding,
came the walker-in-shadow. Warriors slept
whose hest was to guard the gabled hall, --
all save one. 'Twas widely known
that against God's will the ghostly ravager
him could not hurl to haunts of darkness;
wakeful, ready, with warrior's wrath,
bold he bided the battle's issue.
THEN from the moorland, by misty crags,
with God's wrath laden, Grendel came.
The monster was minded of mankind now
sundry to seize in the stately house.
Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,
gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,
flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,
that he the home of Hrothgar sought, --
yet ne'er in his life-day, late or early,
such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!
To the house the warrior walked apace,
parted from peace; the portal opended,
though with forged bolts fast, when his fists had struck it,
and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,
the house's mouth. All hastily, then,
o'er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,
ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyes
fearful flashes, like flame to see.
He spied in hall the hero-band,
kin and clansmen clustered asleep,
hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;
for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,
savage, to sever the soul of each,
life from body, since lusty banquet
waited his will! But Wyrd forbade him
to seize any more of men on earth
after that evening. Eagerly watched
Hygelac's kinsman his cursed foe,
how he would fare in fell attack.
Not that the monster was minded to pause!
Straightway he seized a sleeping warrior
for the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,
the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,
swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thus
the lifeless corse was clear devoured,
e'en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;
for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,
felt for the foe with fiendish claw,
for the hero reclining, -- who clutched it boldly,
prompt to answer, propped on his arm.
Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evils
that never he met in this middle-world,
in the ways of earth, another wight
with heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,
sorrowed in soul, -- none the sooner escaped!
Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,
the den of devils: no doings now
such as oft he had done in days of old!
Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thane
of his boast at evening: up he bounded,
grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.
The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.
The monster meant -- if he might at all --
to fling himself free, and far away
fly to the fens, -- knew his fingers' power
in the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome march
to Heorot this monster of harm had made!
Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,
castle-dwellers and clansmen all,
earls, of their ale. Angry were both
those savage hall-guards: the house resounded.
Wonder it was the wine-hall firm
in the strain of their struggle stood, to earth
the fair house fell not; too fast it was
within and without by its iron bands
craftily clamped; though there crashed from sill
many a mead-bench -- men have told me --
gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.
So well had weened the wisest Scyldings
that not ever at all might any man
that bone-decked, brave house break asunder,
crush by craft, -- unless clasp of fire
in smoke engulfed it. -- Again uprose
din redoubled. Danes of the North
with fear and frenzy were filled, each one,
who from the wall that wailing heard,
God's foe sounding his grisly song,
cry of the conquered, clamorous pain
from captive of hell. Too closely held him
he who of men in might was strongest
in that same day of this our life.
NOT in any wise would the earls'-defence
suffer that slaughterous stranger to live,
useless deeming his days and years
to men on earth. Now many an earl
of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral,
fain the life of their lord to shield,
their praised prince, if power were theirs;
never they knew, -- as they neared the foe,
hardy-hearted heroes of war,
aiming their swords on every side
the accursed to kill, -- no keenest blade,
no farest of falchions fashioned on earth,
could harm or hurt that hideous fiend!
He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle,
from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting
on that same day of this our life
woful should be, and his wandering soul
far off flit to the fiends' domain.
Soon he found, who in former days,
harmful in heart and hated of God,
on many a man such murder wrought,
that the frame of his body failed him now.
For him the keen-souled kinsman of Hygelac
held in hand; hateful alive
was each to other. The outlaw dire
took mortal hurt; a mighty wound
showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked,
and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now
the glory was given, and Grendel thence
death-sick his den in the dark moor sought,
noisome abode: he knew too well
that here was the last of life, an end
of his days on earth. -- To all the Danes
by that bloody battle the boon had come.
From ravage had rescued the roving stranger
Hrothgar's hall; the hardy and wise one
had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him,
his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes
had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good,
all their sorrow and ills assuaged,
their bale of battle borne so long,
and all the dole they erst endured
pain a-plenty. -- 'Twas proof of this,
when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down,
arm and shoulder, -- all, indeed,
of Grendel's gripe, -- 'neath the gabled roofá
MANY at morning, as men have told me,
warriors gathered the gift-hall round,
folk-leaders faring from far and near,
o'er wide-stretched ways, the wonder to view,
trace of the traitor. Not troublous seemed
the enemy's end to any man
who saw by the gait of the graceless foe
how the weary-hearted, away from thence,
baffled in battle and banned, his steps
death-marked dragged to the devils' mere.
Bloody the billows were boiling there,
turbid the tide of tumbling waves
horribly seething, with sword-blood hot,
by that doomed one dyed, who in den of the moor
laid forlorn his life adown,
his heathen soul,-and hell received it.
Home then rode the hoary clansmen
from that merry journey, and many a youth,
on horses white, the hardy warriors,
back from the mere. Then Beowulf's glory
eager they echoed, and all averred
that from sea to sea, or south or north,
there was no other in earth's domain,
under vault of heaven, more valiant found,
of warriors none more worthy to rule!
(On their lord beloved they laid no slight,
gracious Hrothgar: a good king he!)
From time to time, the tried-in-battle
their gray steeds set to gallop amain,
and ran a race when the road seemed fair.
From time to time, a thane of the king,
who had made many vaunts, and was mindful of verses,
stored with sagas and songs of old,
bound word to word in well-knit rime,
welded his lay; this warrior soon
of Beowulf's quest right cleverly sang,
and artfully added an excellent tale,
in well-ranged words, of the warlike deeds
he had heard in saga of Sigemund.
Strange the story: he said it all, --
the Waelsing's wanderings wide, his struggles,
which never were told to tribes of men,
the feuds and the frauds, save to Fitela only,
when of these doings he deigned to speak,
uncle to nephew; as ever the twain
stood side by side in stress of war,
and multitude of the monster kind
they had felled with their swords. Of Sigemund grew,
when he passed from life, no little praise;
for the doughty-in-combat a dragon killed
that herded the hoard: under hoary rock
the atheling dared the deed alone
fearful quest, nor was Fitela there.
Yet so it befell, his falchion pierced
that wondrous worm, -- on the wall it struck,
best blade; the dragon died in its blood.
Thus had the dread-one by daring achieved
over the ring-hoard to rule at will,
himself to pleasure; a sea-boat he loaded,
and bore on its bosom the beaming gold,
son of Waels; the worm was consumed.
He had of all heroes the highest renown
among races of men, this refuge-of-warriors,
for deeds of daring that decked his name
since the hand and heart of Heremod
grew slack in battle. He, swiftly banished
to mingle with monsters at mercy of foes,
to death was betrayed; for torrents of sorrow
had lamed him too long; a load of care
to earls and athelings all he proved.
Oft indeed, in earlier days,
for the warrior's wayfaring wise men mourned,
who had hoped of him help from harm and bale,
and had thought their sovran's son would thrive,
follow his father, his folk protect,
the hoard and the stronghold, heroes' land,
home of Scyldings. -- But here, thanes said,
the kinsman of Hygelac kinder seemed
to all: the other was urged to crime!
And afresh to the race, the fallow roads
by swift steeds measured! The morning sun
was climbing higher. Clansmen hastened
to the high-built hall, those hardy-minded,
the wonder to witness. Warden of treasure,
crowned with glory, the king himself,
with stately band from the bride-bower strode;
and with him the queen and her crowd of maidens
measured the path to the mead-house fair.
HROTHGAR spake, -- to the hall he went,
stood by the steps, the steep roof saw,
garnished with gold, and Grendel's hand:--
"For the sight I see to the Sovran Ruler
be speedy thanks! A throng of sorrows
I have borne from Grendel; but God still works
wonder on wonder, the Warden-of-Glory.
It was but now that I never more
for woes that weighed on me waited help
long as I lived, when, laved in blood,
stood sword-gore-stained this stateliest house, --
widespread woe for wise men all,
who had no hope to hinder ever
foes infernal and fiendish sprites
from havoc in hall. This hero now,
by the Wielder's might, a work has done
that not all of us erst could ever do
by wile and wisdom. Lo, well can she say
whoso of women this warrior bore
among sons of men, if still she liveth,
that the God of the ages was good to her
in the birth of her bairn. Now, Beowulf, thee,
of heroes best, I shall heartily love
as mine own, my son; preserve thou ever
this kinship new: thou shalt never lack
wealth of the world that I wield as mine!
Full oft for less have I largess showered,
my precious hoard, on a punier man,
less stout in struggle. Thyself hast now
fulfilled such deeds, that thy fame shall endure
through all the ages. As ever he did,
well may the Wielder reward thee still!"
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"This work of war most willingly
we have fought, this fight, and fearlessly dared
force of the foe. Fain, too, were I
hadst thou but seen himself, what time
the fiend in his trappings tottered to fall!
Swiftly, I thought, in strongest gripe
on his bed of death to bind him down,
that he in the hent of this hand of mine
should breathe his last: but he broke away.
Him I might not -- the Maker willed not --
hinder from flight, and firm enough hold
the life-destroyer: too sturdy was he,
the ruthless, in running! For rescue, however,
he left behind him his hand in pledge,
arm and shoulder; nor aught of help
could the cursed one thus procure at all.
None the longer liveth he, loathsome fiend,
sunk in his sins, but sorrow holds him
tightly grasped in gripe of anguish,
in baleful bonds, where bide he must,
evil outlaw, such awful doom
as the Mighty Maker shall mete him out."
More silent seemed the son of Ecglaf
in boastful speech of his battle-deeds,
since athelings all, through the earl's great prowess,
beheld that hand, on the high roof gazing,
foeman's fingers, -- the forepart of each
of the sturdy nails to steel was likest, --
heathen's "hand-spear," hostile warrior's
claw uncanny. 'Twas clear, they said,
that him no blade of the brave could touch,
how keen soever, or cut away
that battle-hand bloody from baneful foe.
THERE was hurry and hest in Heorot now
for hands to bedeck it, and dense was the throng
of men and women the wine-hall to cleanse,
the guest-room to garnish. Gold-gay shone the hangings
that were wove on the wall, and wonders many
to delight each mortal that looks upon them.
Though braced within by iron bands,
that building bright was broken sorely;
rent were its hinges; the roof alone
held safe and sound, when, seared with crime,
the fiendish foe his flight essayed,
of life despairing. -- No light thing that,
the flight for safety, -- essay it who will!
Forced of fate, he shall find his way
to the refuge ready for race of man,
for soul-possessors, and sons of earth;
and there his body on bed of death
shall rest after revel. Arrived was the hour
when to hall proceeded Healfdene's son:
the king himself would sit to banquet.
Ne'er heard I of host in haughtier throng
more graciously gathered round giver-of-rings!
Bowed then to bench those bearers-of-glory,
fain of the feasting. Featly received
many a mead-cup the mighty-in-spirit,
kinsmen who sat in the sumptuous hall,
Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Heorot now
was filled with friends; the folk of Scyldings
ne'er yet had tried the traitor's deed.
To Beowulf gave the bairn of Healfdene
a gold-wove banner, guerdon of triumph,
broidered battle-flag, breastplate and helmet;
and a splendid sword was seen of many
borne to the brave one. Beowulf took
cup in hall: for such costly gifts
he suffered no shame in that soldier throng.
For I heard of few heroes, in heartier mood,
with four such gifts, so fashioned with gold,
on the ale-bench honoring others thus!
O'er the roof of the helmet high, a ridge,
wound with wires, kept ward o'er the head,
lest the relict-of-files should fierce invade,
sharp in the strife, when that shielded hero
should go to grapple against his foes.
Then the earls'-defence on the floor bade lead
coursers eight, with carven head-gear,
adown the hall: one horse was decked
with a saddle all shining and set in jewels;
'twas the battle-seat of the best of kings,
when to play of swords the son of Healfdene
was fain to fare. Ne'er failed his valor
in the crush of combat when corpses fell.
To Beowulf over them both then gave
the refuge-of-Ingwines right and power,
o'er war-steeds and weapons: wished him joy of them.
Manfully thus the mighty prince,
hoard-guard for heroes, that hard fight repaid
with steeds and treasures contemned by none
who is willing to say the sooth aright.
AND the lord of earls, to each that came
with Beowulf over the briny ways,
an heirloom there at the ale-bench gave,
precious gift; and the price bade pay
in gold for him whom Grendel erst
murdered, -- and fain of them more had killed,
had not wisest God their Wyrd averted,
and the man's brave mood. The Maker then
ruled human kind, as here and now.
Therefore is insight always best,
and forethought of mind. How much awaits him
of lief and of loath, who long time here,
through days of warfare this world endures!
Then song and music mingled sounds
in the presence of Healfdene's head-of-armies
and harping was heard with the hero-lay
as Hrothgar's singer the hall-joy woke
along the mead-seats, making his song
of that sudden raid on the sons of Finn.
Healfdene's hero, Hnaef the Scylding,
was fated to fall in the Frisian slaughter.
Hildeburh needed not hold in value
her enemies' honor! Innocent both
were the loved ones she lost at the linden-play,
bairn and brother, they bowed to fate,
stricken by spears; 'twas a sorrowful woman!
None doubted why the daughter of Hoc
bewailed her doom when dawning came,
and under the sky she saw them lying,
kinsmen murdered, where most she had kenned
of the sweets of the world! By war were swept, too,
Finn's own liegemen, and few were left;
in the parleying-place he could ply no longer
weapon, nor war could he wage on Hengest,
and rescue his remnant by right of arms
from the prince's thane. A pact he offered:
another dwelling the Danes should have,
hall and high-seat, and half the power
should fall to them in Frisian land;
and at the fee-gifts, Folcwald's son
day by day the Danes should honor,
the folk of Hengest favor with rings,
even as truly, with treasure and jewels,
with fretted gold, as his Frisian kin
he meant to honor in ale-hall there.
Pact of peace they plighted further
on both sides firmly. Finn to Hengest
with oath, upon honor, openly promised
that woful remnant, with wise-men's aid,
nobly to govern, so none of the guests
by word or work should warp the treaty,
or with malice of mind bemoan themselves
as forced to follow their fee-giver's slayer,
lordless men, as their lot ordained.
Should Frisian, moreover, with foeman's taunt,
that murderous hatred to mind recall,
then edge of the sword must seal his doom.
Oaths were given, and ancient gold
heaped from hoard. -- The hardy Scylding,
battle-thane best, on his balefire lay.
All on the pyre were plain to see
the gory sark, the gilded swine-crest,
boar of hard iron, and athelings many
slain by the sword: at the slaughter they fell.
It was Hildeburh's hest, at Hnaef's own pyre
the bairn of her body on brands to lay,
his bones to burn, on the balefire placed,
at his uncle's side. In sorrowful dirges
bewept them the woman: great wailing ascended.
Then wound up to welkin the wildest of death-fires,
roared o'er the hillock: heads all were melted,
gashes burst, and blood gushed out
from bites of the body. Balefire devoured,
greediest spirit, those spared not by war
out of either folk: their flower was gone.
THEN hastened those heroes their home to see,
friendless, to find the Frisian land,
houses and high burg. Hengest still
through the death-dyed winter dwelt with Finn,
holding pact, yet of home he minded,
though powerless his ring-decked prow to drive
over the waters, now waves rolled fierce
lashed by the winds, or winter locked them
in icy fetters. Then fared another
year to men's dwellings, as yet they do,
the sunbright skies, that their season ever
duly await. Far off winter was driven;
fair lay earth's breast; and fain was the rover,
the guest, to depart, though more gladly he pondered
on wreaking his vengeance than roaming the deep,
and how to hasten the hot encounter
where sons of the Frisians were sure to be.
So he escaped not the common doom,
when Hun with "Lafing," the light-of-battle,
best of blades, his bosom pierced:
its edge was famed with the Frisian earls.
On fierce-heart Finn there fell likewise,
on himself at home, the horrid sword-death;
for Guthlaf and Oslaf of grim attack
had sorrowing told, from sea-ways landed,
mourning their woes. Finn's wavering spirit
bode not in breast. The burg was reddened
with blood of foemen, and Finn was slain,
king amid clansmen; the queen was taken.
To their ship the Scylding warriors bore
all the chattels the chieftain owned,
whatever they found in Finn's domain
of gems and jewels. The gentle wife
o'er paths of the deep to the Danes they bore,
led to her land. The lay was finished,
the gleeman's song. Then glad rose the revel;
bench-joy brightened. Bearers draw
from their "wonder-vats" wine. Comes Wealhtheow forth,
under gold-crown goes where the good pair sit,
uncle and nephew, true each to the other one,
kindred in amity. Unferth the spokesman
at the Scylding lord's feet sat: men had faith in his spirit,
his keenness of courage, though kinsmen had found him
unsure at the sword-play. The Scylding queen spoke:
"Quaff of this cup, my king and lord,
breaker of rings, and blithe be thou,
gold-friend of men; to the Geats here speak
such words of mildness as man should use.
Be glad with thy Geats; of those gifts be mindful,
or near or far, which now thou hast.
Men say to me, as son thou wishest
yon hero to hold. Thy Heorot purged,
jewel-hall brightest, enjoy while thou canst,
with many a largess; and leave to thy kin
folk and realm when forth thou goest
to greet thy doom. For gracious I deem
my Hrothulf, willing to hold and rule
nobly our youths, if thou yield up first,
prince of Scyldings, thy part in the world.
I ween with good he will well requite
offspring of ours, when all he minds
that for him we did in his helpless days
of gift and grace to gain him honor!"
Then she turned to the seat where her sons were placed,
Hrethric and Hrothmund, with heroes' bairns,
young men together: the Geat, too, sat there,
Beowulf brave, the brothers between.
A CUP she gave him, with kindly greeting
and winsome words. Of wounden gold,
she offered, to honor him, arm-jewels twain,
corselet and rings, and of collars the noblest
that ever I knew the earth around.
Ne'er heard I so mighty, 'neath heaven's dome,
a hoard-gem of heroes, since Hama bore
to his bright-built burg the Brisings' necklace,
jewel and gem casket. -- Jealousy fled he,
Eormenric's hate: chose help eternal.
Hygelac Geat, grandson of Swerting,
on the last of his raids this ring bore with him,
under his banner the booty defending,
the war-spoil warding; but Wyrd o'erwhelmed him
what time, in his daring, dangers he sought,
feud with Frisians. Fairest of gems
he bore with him over the beaker-of-waves,
sovran strong: under shield he died.
Fell the corpse of the king into keeping of Franks,
gear of the breast, and that gorgeous ring;
weaker warriors won the spoil,
after gripe of battle, from Geatland's lord,
and held the death-field. Din rose in hall.
Wealhtheow spake amid warriors, and said:--
"This jewel enjoy in thy jocund youth,
Beowulf lov'd, these battle-weeds wear,
a royal treasure, and richly thrive!
Preserve thy strength, and these striplings here
counsel in kindness: requital be mine.
Hast done such deeds, that for days to come
thou art famed among folk both far and near,
so wide as washeth the wave of Ocean
his windy walls. Through the ways of life
prosper, O prince! I pray for thee
rich possessions. To son of mine
be helpful in deed and uphold his joys!
Here every earl to the other is true,
mild of mood, to the master loyal!
Thanes are friendly, the throng obedient,
liegemen are revelling: list and obey!"
Went then to her place. -- That was proudest of feasts;
flowed wine for the warriors. Wyrd they knew not,
destiny dire, and the doom to be seen
by many an earl when eve should come,
and Hrothgar homeward hasten away,
royal, to rest. The room was guarded
by an army of earls, as erst was done.
They bared the bench-boards; abroad they spread
beds and bolsters. -- One beer-carouser
in danger of doom lay down in the hall. --
At their heads they set their shields of war,
bucklers bright; on the bench were there
over each atheling, easy to see,
the high battle-helmet, the haughty spear,
the corselet of rings. 'Twas their custom so
ever to be for battle prepared,
at home, or harrying, which it were,
even as oft as evil threatened
their sovran king. -- They were clansmen good.
THEN sank they to sleep. With sorrow one bought
his rest of the evening, -- as ofttime had happened
when Grendel guarded that golden hall,
evil wrought, till his end drew nigh,
slaughter for sins. 'Twas seen and told
how an avenger survived the fiend,
as was learned afar. The livelong time
after that grim fight, Grendel's mother,
monster of women, mourned her woe.
She was doomed to dwell in the dreary waters,
cold sea-courses, since Cain cut down
with edge of the sword his only brother,
his father's offspring: outlawed he fled,
marked with murder, from men's delights
warded the wilds. -- There woke from him
such fate-sent ghosts as Grendel, who,
war-wolf horrid, at Heorot found
a warrior watching and waiting the fray,
with whom the grisly one grappled amain.
But the man remembered his mighty power,
the glorious gift that God had sent him,
in his Maker's mercy put his trust
for comfort and help: so he conquered the foe,
felled the fiend, who fled abject,
reft of joy, to the realms of death,
mankind's foe. And his mother now,
gloomy and grim, would go that quest
of sorrow, the death of her son to avenge.
To Heorot came she, where helmeted Danes
slept in the hall. Too soon came back
old ills of the earls, when in she burst,
the mother of Grendel. Less grim, though, that terror,
e'en as terror of woman in war is less,
might of maid, than of men in arms
when, hammer-forged, the falchion hard,
sword gore-stained, through swine of the helm,
crested, with keen blade carves amain.
Then was in hall the hard-edge drawn,
the swords on the settles, and shields a-many
firm held in hand: nor helmet minded
nor harness of mail, whom that horror seized.
Haste was hers; she would hie afar
and save her life when the liegemen saw her.
Yet a single atheling up she seized
fast and firm, as she fled to the moor.
He was for Hrothgar of heroes the dearest,
of trusty vassals betwixt the seas,
whom she killed on his couch, a clansman famous,
in battle brave. -- Nor was Beowulf there;
another house had been held apart,
after giving of gold, for the Geat renowned. --
Uproar filled Heorot; the hand all had viewed,
blood-flecked, she bore with her; bale was returned,
dole in the dwellings: 'twas dire exchange
where Dane and Geat were doomed to give
the lives of loved ones. Long-tried king,
the hoary hero, at heart was sad
when he knew his noble no more lived,
and dead indeed was his dearest thane.
To his bower was Beowulf brought in haste,
dauntless victor. As daylight broke,
along with his earls the atheling lord,
with his clansmen, came where the king abode
waiting to see if the Wielder-of-All
would turn this tale of trouble and woe.
Strode o'er floor the famed-in-strife,
with his hand-companions, -- the hall resounded, --
wishing to greet the wise old king,
Ingwines' lord; he asked if the night
had passed in peace to the prince's mind.
HROTHGAR spake, helmet-of-Scyldings:--
"Ask not of pleasure! Pain is renewed
to Danish folk. Dead is Aeschere,
of Yrmenlaf the elder brother,
my sage adviser and stay in council,
shoulder-comrade in stress of fight
when warriors clashed and we warded our heads,
hewed the helm-boars; hero famed
should be every earl as Aeschere was!
But here in Heorot a hand hath slain him
of wandering death-sprite. I wot not whither,
proud of the prey, her path she took,
fain of her fill. The feud she avenged
that yesternight, unyieldingly,
Grendel in grimmest grasp thou killedst, --
seeing how long these liegemen mine
he 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'er
sorrows in soul for that sharer of rings,
this is hardest of heart-bales. The hand lies low
that once was willing each wish to please.
Land-dwellers here and liegemen mine,
who house by those parts, I have heard relate
that 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-track
of 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 him
of treacherous spirits. Untrod is their home;
by wolf-cliffs haunt they and windy headlands,
fenways fearful, where flows the stream
from mountains gliding to gloom of the rocks,
underground flood. Not far is it hence
in 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 none
of 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 first
on the brink he yields ere he brave the plunge
to hide his head: 'tis no happy place!
Thence the welter of waters washes up
wan to welkin when winds bestir
evil storms, and air grows dusk,
and the heavens weep. Now is help once more
with thee alone! The land thou knowst not,
place of fear, where thou findest out
that 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."
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:
"Sorrow not, sage! It beseems us better
friends to avenge than fruitlessly mourn them.
Each of us all must his end abide
in the ways of the world; so win who may
glory ere death! When his days are told,
that is the warrior's worthiest doom.
Rise, O realm-warder! Ride we anon,
and mark the trail of the mother of Grendel.
No harbor shall hide her -- heed my promise! --
enfolding of field or forested mountain
or floor of the flood, let her flee where she will!
But thou this day endure in patience,
as I ween thou wilt, thy woes each one."
Leaped up the graybeard: God he thanked,
mighty Lord, for the man's brave words.
For Hrothgar soon a horse was saddled
wave-maned steed. The sovran wise
stately rode on; his shield-armed men
followed in force. The footprints led
along the woodland, widely seen,
a path o'er the plain, where she passed, and trod
the murky moor; of men-at-arms
she bore the bravest and best one, dead,
him who with Hrothgar the homestead ruled.
On then went the atheling-born
o'er stone-cliffs steep and strait defiles,
narrow passes and unknown ways,
headlands sheer, and the haunts of the Nicors.
Foremost he fared, a few at his side
of the wiser men, the ways to scan,
till he found in a flash the forested hill
hanging over the hoary rock,
a woful wood: the waves below
were dyed in blood. The Danish men
had sorrow of soul, and for Scyldings all,
for many a hero, 'twas hard to bear,
ill for earls, when Aeschere's head
they found by the flood on the foreland there.
Waves were welling, the warriors saw,
hot with blood; but the horn sang oft
battle-song bold. The band sat down,
and watched on the water worm-like things,
sea-dragons strange that sounded the deep,
and nicors that lay on the ledge of the ness --
such as oft essay at hour of morn
on the road-of-sails their ruthless quest, --
and sea-snakes and monsters. These started away,
swollen and savage that song to hear,
that war-horn's blast. The warden of Geats,
with bolt from bow, then balked of life,
of wave-work, one monster, amid its heart
went the keen war-shaft; in water it seemed
less doughty in swimming whom death had seized.
Swift on the billows, with boar-spears well
hooked and barbed, it was hard beset,
done to death and dragged on the headland,
wave-roamer wondrous. Warriors viewed
the grisly guest. Then girt him Beowulf
in martial mail, nor mourned for his life.
His breastplate broad and bright of hues,
woven by hand, should the waters try;
well could it ward the warrior's body
that battle should break on his breast in vain
nor harm his heart by the hand of a foe.
And the helmet white that his head protected
was destined to dare the deeps of the flood,
through wave-whirl win: 'twas wound with chains,
decked with gold, as in days of yore
the weapon-smith worked it wondrously,
with swine-forms set it, that swords nowise,
brandished in battle, could bite that helm.
Nor was that the meanest of mighty helps
which Hrothgar's orator offered at need:
"Hrunting" they named the hilted sword,
of old-time heirlooms easily first;
iron was its edge, all etched with poison,
with battle-blood hardened, nor blenched it at fight
in hero's hand who held it ever,
on paths of peril prepared to go
to folkstead of foes. Not first time this
it was destined to do a daring task.
For he bore not in mind, the bairn of Ecglaf
sturdy and strong, that speech he had made,
drunk with wine, now this weapon he lent
to a stouter swordsman. Himself, though, durst not
under welter of waters wager his life
as loyal liegeman. So lost he his glory,
honor of earls. With the other not so,
who girded him now for the grim encounter.
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Have mind, thou honored offspring of Healfdene
gold-friend of men, now I go on this quest,
sovran wise, what once was said:
if in thy cause it came that I
should lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bide
to me, though fallen, in father's place!
Be guardian, thou, to this group of my thanes,
my warrior-friends, if War should seize me;
and the goodly gifts thou gavest me,
Hrothgar beloved, to Hygelac send!
Geatland's king may ken by the gold,
Hrethel's son see, when he stares at the treasure,
that I got me a friend for goodness famed,
and joyed while I could in my jewel-bestower.
And let Unferth wield this wondrous sword,
earl far-honored, this heirloom precious,
hard of edge: with Hrunting I
seek doom of glory, or Death shall take me."
After these words the Weder-Geat lord
boldly hastened, biding never
answer at all: the ocean floods
closed o'er the hero. Long while of the day
fled ere he felt the floor of the sea.
Soon found the fiend who the flood-domain
sword-hungry held these hundred winters,
greedy and grim, that some guest from above,
some man, was raiding her monster-realm.
She grasped out for him with grisly claws,
and the warrior seized; yet scathed she not
his body hale; the breastplate hindered,
as she strove to shatter the sark of war,
the linked harness, with loathsome hand.
Then bore this brine-wolf, when bottom she touched,
the lord of rings to the lair she haunted
whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held,
weapon to wield against wondrous monsters
that sore beset him; sea-beasts many
tried with fierce tusks to tear his mail,
and swarmed on the stranger. But soon he marked
he was now in some hall, he knew not which,
where water never could work him harm,
nor through the roof could reach him ever
fangs of the flood. Firelight he saw,
beams of a blaze that brightly shone.
Then the warrior was ware of that wolf-of-the-deep,
mere-wife monstrous. For mighty stroke
he swung his blade, and the blow withheld not.
Then sang on her head that seemly blade
its war-song wild. But the warrior found
the light-of-battle was loath to bite,
to harm the heart: its hard edge failed
the noble at need, yet had known of old
strife hand to hand, and had helmets cloven,
doomed men's fighting-gear. First time, this,
for the gleaming blade that its glory fell.
Firm still stood, nor failed in valor,
heedful of high deeds, Hygelac's kinsman;
flung away fretted sword, featly jewelled,
the angry earl; on earth it lay
steel-edged and stiff. His strength he trusted,
hand-gripe of might. So man shall do
whenever in war he weens to earn him
lasting fame, nor fears for his life!
Seized then by shoulder, shrank not from combat,
the Geatish war-prince Grendel's mother.
Flung then the fierce one, filled with wrath,
his deadly foe, that she fell to ground.
Swift on her part she paid him back
with grisly grasp, and grappled with him.
Spent with struggle, stumbled the warrior,
fiercest of fighting-men, fell adown.
On the hall-guest she hurled herself, hent her short sword,
broad and brown-edged, the bairn to avenge,
the sole-born son. -- On his shoulder lay
braided breast-mail, barring death,
withstanding entrance of edge or blade.
Life would have ended for Ecgtheow's son,
under wide earth for that earl of Geats,
had his armor of war not aided him,
battle-net hard, and holy God
wielded the victory, wisest Maker.
The Lord of Heaven allowed his cause;
and easily rose the earl erect.
'MID the battle-gear saw he a blade triumphant,
old-sword of Eotens, with edge of proof,
warriors' heirloom, weapon unmatched,
-- save only 'twas more than other men
to bandy-of-battle could bear at all --
as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen.
Seized then its chain-hilt the Scyldings' chieftain,
bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword,
reckless of life, and so wrathfully smote
that it gripped her neck and grasped her hard,
her bone-rings breaking: the blade pierced through
that fated-one's flesh: to floor she sank.
Bloody the blade: he was blithe of his deed.
Then blazed forth light. 'Twas bright within
as when from the sky there shines unclouded
heaven's candle. The hall he scanned.
By the wall then went he; his weapon raised
high by its hilts the Hygelac-thane,
angry and eager. That edge was not useless
to the warrior now. He wished with speed
Grendel to guerdon for grim raids many,
for the war he waged on Western-Danes
oftener far than an only time,
when of Hrothgar's hearth-companions
he slew in slumber, in sleep devoured,
fifteen men of the folk of Danes,
and as many others outward bore,
his horrible prey. Well paid for that
the wrathful prince! For now prone he saw
Grendel stretched there, spent with war,
spoiled of life, so scathed had left him
Heorot's battle. The body sprang far
when after death it endured the blow,
sword-stroke savage, that severed its head.
Soon, then, saw the sage companions
who waited with Hrothgar, watching the flood,
that the tossing waters turbid grew,
blood-stained the mere. Old men together,
hoary-haired, of the hero spake;
the warrior would not, they weened, again,
proud of conquest, come to seek
their mighty master. To many it seemed
the wolf-of-the-waves had won his life.
The ninth hour came. The noble Scyldings
left the headland; homeward went
the gold-friend of men. But the guests sat on,
stared at the surges, sick in heart,
and wished, yet weened not, their winsome lord
again to see. Now that sword began,
from blood of the fight, in battle-droppings,
war-blade, to wane: 'twas a wondrous thing
that all of it melted as ice is wont
when frosty fetters the Father loosens,
unwinds the wave-bonds, wielding all
seasons and times: the true God he!
Nor took from that dwelling the duke of the Geats
precious things, though a plenty he saw,
save only the head and that hilt withal
blazoned with jewels: the blade had melted,
burned was the bright sword, her blood was so hot,
so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished within
there.
Soon he was swimming who safe saw in combat
downfall of demons; up-dove through the flood.
The clashing waters were cleansed now,
waste of waves, where the wandering fiend
her life-days left and this lapsing world.
Swam then to strand the sailors'-refuge,
sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty glad,
of burden brave he bore with him.
Went then to greet him, and God they thanked,
the thane-band choice of their chieftain blithe,
that safe and sound they could see him again.
Soon from the hardy one helmet and armor
deftly they doffed: now drowsed the mere,
water 'neath welkin, with war-blood stained.
Forth they fared by the footpaths thence,
merry at heart the highways measured,
well-known roads. Courageous men
carried the head from the cliff by the sea,
an arduous task for all the band,
the firm in fight, since four were needed
on the shaft-of-slaughter strenuously
to bear to the gold-hall Grendel's head.
So presently to the palace there
foemen fearless, fourteen Geats,
marching came. Their master-of-clan
mighty amid them the meadow-ways trod.
Strode then within the sovran thane
fearless in fight, of fame renowned,
hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet.
And next by the hair into hall was borne
Grendel's head, where the henchmen were drinking,
an awe to clan and queen alike,
a monster of marvel: the men looked on.
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Lo, now, this sea-booty, son of Healfdene,
Lord of Scyldings, we've lustily brought thee,
sign of glory; thou seest it here.
Not lightly did I with my life escape!
In war under water this work I essayed
with endless effort; and even so
my strength had been lost had the Lord not shielded me.
Not a whit could I with Hrunting do
in work of war, though the weapon is good;
yet a sword the Sovran of Men vouchsafed me
to spy on the wall there, in splendor hanging,
old, gigantic, -- how oft He guides
the friendless wight! -- and I fought with that brand,
felling in fight, since fate was with me,
the house's wardens. That war-sword then
all burned, bright blade, when the blood gushed o'er it,
battle-sweat hot; but the hilt I brought back
from my foes. So avenged I their fiendish deeds
death-fall of Danes, as was due and right.
And this is my hest, that in Heorot now
safe thou canst sleep with thy soldier band,
and every thane of all thy folk
both old and young; no evil fear,
Scyldings' lord, from that side again,
aught ill for thy earls, as erst thou must!"
Then the golden hilt, for that gray-haired leader,
hoary hero, in hand was laid,
giant-wrought, old. So owned and enjoyed it
after downfall of devils, the Danish lord,
wonder-smiths' work, since the world was rid
of that grim-souled fiend, the foe of God,
murder-marked, and his mother as well.
Now it passed into power of the people's king,
best of all that the oceans bound
who have scattered their gold o'er Scandia's isle.
Hrothgar spake -- the hilt he viewed,
heirloom old, where was etched the rise
of that far-off fight when the floods o'erwhelmed,
raging waves, the race of giants
(fearful their fate!), a folk estranged
from God Eternal: whence guerdon due
in that waste of waters the Wielder paid them.
So on the guard of shining gold
in runic staves it was rightly said
for whom the serpent-traced sword was wrought,
best of blades, in bygone days,
and the hilt well wound. -- The wise-one spake,
son of Healfdene; silent were all:--
"Lo, so may he say who sooth and right
follows 'mid folk, of far times mindful,
a land-warden old, that this earl belongs
to the better breed! So, borne aloft,
thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,
far and wide o'er folksteads many. Firmly thou shalt all maintain,
mighty strength with mood of wisdom. Love of mine will I assure thee,
as, awhile ago, I promised; thou shalt prove a stay in future,
in far-off years, to folk of thine,
to the heroes a help. Was not Heremod thus
to offspring of Ecgwela, Honor-Scyldings,
nor grew for their grace, but for grisly slaughter,
for doom of death to the Danishmen.
He slew, wrath-swollen, his shoulder-comrades,
companions at board! So he passed alone,
chieftain haughty, from human cheer.
Though him the Maker with might endowed,
delights of power, and uplifted high
above all men, yet blood-fierce his mind,
his breast-hoard, grew, no bracelets gave he
to Danes as was due; he endured all joyless
strain of struggle and stress of woe,
long feud with his folk. Here find thy lesson!
Of virtue advise thee! This verse I have said for thee,
wise from lapsed winters. Wondrous seems
how to sons of men Almighty God
in the strength of His spirit sendeth wisdom,
estate, high station: He swayeth all things.
Whiles He letteth right lustily fare
the heart of the hero of high-born race, --
in seat ancestral assigns him bliss,
his folk's sure fortress in fee to hold,
puts in his power great parts of the earth,
empire so ample, that end of it
this wanter-of-wisdom weeneth none.
So he waxes in wealth, nowise can harm him
illness or age; no evil cares
shadow his spirit; no sword-hate threatens
from ever an enemy: all the world
wends at his will, no worse he knoweth,
till all within him obstinate pride
waxes and wakes while the warden slumbers,
the spirit's sentry; sleep is too fast
which masters his might, and the murderer nears,
stealthily shooting the shafts from his bow!
"UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed
by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails
from foul behest of the hellish fiend.
Him seems too little what long he possessed.
Greedy and grim, no golden rings
he gives for his pride; the promised future
forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him,
Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.
Yet in the end it ever comes
that the frame of the body fragile yields,
fated falls; and there follows another
who joyously the jewels divides,
the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear.
Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf dearest,
best of men, and the better part choose,
profit eternal; and temper thy pride,
warrior famous! The flower of thy might
lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be
that sickness or sword thy strength shall minish,
or fang of fire, or flooding billow,
or bite of blade, or brandished spear,
or odious age; or the eyes' clear beam
wax dull and darken: Death even thee
in haste shall o'erwhelm, thou hero of war!
So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I ruled,
wielded 'neath welkin, and warded them bravely
from mighty-ones many o'er middle-earth,
from spear and sword, till it seemed for me
no foe could be found under fold of the sky.
Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure
came grief for joy when Grendel began
to harry my home, the hellish foe;
for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered
heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked,
Lord Eternal, for life extended
that I on this head all hewn and bloody,
after long evil, with eyes may gaze!
-- Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet,
warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure
at dawn of day, be dealt between us!"
Glad was the Geats' lord, going betimes
to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded.
Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle,
for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight
nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened
dusk o'er the drinkers. The doughty ones rose:
for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest,
aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,
shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.
Him wander-weary, warrior-guest
from far, a hall-thane heralded forth,
who by custom courtly cared for all
needs of a thane as in those old days
warrior-wanderers wont to have.
So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall
rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on
till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven
blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying
shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened,
athelings all were eager homeward
forth to fare; and far from thence
the great-hearted guest would guide his keel.
Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought
to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take,
excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it,
quoth that he counted it keen in battle,
"war-friend" winsome: with words he slandered not
edge of the blade: 'twas a big-hearted man!
Now eager for parting and armed at point
warriors waited, while went to his host
that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling
to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Lo, we seafarers say our will,
far-come men, that we fain would seek
Hygelac now. We here have found
hosts to our heart: thou hast harbored us well.
If ever on earth I am able to win me
more of thy love, O lord of men,
aught anew, than I now have done,
for work of war I am willing still!
If it come to me ever across the seas
that neighbor foemen annoy and fright thee, --
as they that hate thee erewhile have used, --
thousands then of thanes I shall bring,
heroes to help thee. Of Hygelac I know,
ward of his folk, that, though few his years,
the lord of the Geats will give me aid
by word and by work, that well I may serve thee,
wielding the war-wood to win thy triumph
and lending thee might when thou lackest men.
If thy Hrethric should come to court of Geats,
a sovran's son, he will surely there
find his friends. A far-off land
each man should visit who vaunts him brave."
Him then answering, Hrothgar spake:--
"These words of thine the wisest God
sent to thy soul! No sager counsel
from so young in years e'er yet have I heard.
Thou art strong of main and in mind art wary,
art wise in words! I ween indeed
if ever it hap that Hrethel's heir
by spear be seized, by sword-grim battle,
by illness or iron, thine elder and lord,
people's leader, -- and life be thine, --
no seemlier man will the Sea-Geats find
at all to choose for their chief and king,
for hoard-guard of heroes, if hold thou wilt
thy kinsman's kingdom! Thy keen mind pleases me
the longer the better, Beowulf loved!
Thou hast brought it about that both our peoples,
sons of the Geat and Spear-Dane folk,
shall have mutual peace, and from murderous strife,
such as once they waged, from war refrain.
Long as I rule this realm so wide,
let our hoards be common, let heroes with gold
each other greet o'er the gannet's-bath,
and the ringed-prow bear o'er rolling waves
tokens of love. I trow my landfolk
towards friend and foe are firmly joined,
and honor they keep in the olden way."
To him in the hall, then, Healfdene's son
gave treasures twelve, and the trust-of-earls
bade him fare with the gifts to his folk beloved,
hale to his home, and in haste return.
Then kissed the king of kin renowned,
Scyldings' chieftain, that choicest thane,
and fell on his neck. Fast flowed the tears
of the hoary-headed. Heavy with winters,
he had chances twain, but he clung to this, --
that each should look on the other again,
and hear him in hall. Was this hero so dear to him.
his breast's wild billows he banned in vain;
safe in his soul a secret longing,
locked in his mind, for that loved man
burned in his blood. Then Beowulf strode,
glad of his gold-gifts, the grass-plot o'er,
warrior blithe. The wave-roamer bode
riding at anchor, its owner awaiting.
As they hastened onward, Hrothgar's gift
they lauded at length. -- 'Twas a lord unpeered,
every way blameless, till age had broken
-- it spareth no mortal -- his splendid might.
CAME now to ocean the ever-courageous
hardy henchmen, their harness bearing,
woven war-sarks. The warden marked,
trusty as ever, the earl's return.
From the height of the hill no hostile words
reached the guests as he rode to greet them;
but "Welcome!" he called to that Weder clan
as the sheen-mailed spoilers to ship marched on.
Then on the strand, with steeds and treasure
and armor their roomy and ring-dight ship
was heavily laden: high its mast
rose over Hrothgar's hoarded gems.
A sword to the boat-guard Beowulf gave,
mounted with gold; on the mead-bench since
he was better esteemed, that blade possessing,
heirloom old. -- Their ocean-keel boarding,
they drove through the deep, and Daneland left.
A sea-cloth was set, a sail with ropes,
firm to the mast; the flood-timbers moaned;
nor did wind over billows that wave-swimmer blow
across from her course. The craft sped on,
foam-necked it floated forth o'er the waves,
keel firm-bound over briny currents,
till they got them sight of the Geatish cliffs,
home-known headlands. High the boat,
stirred by winds, on the strand updrove.
Helpful at haven the harbor-guard stood,
who long already for loved companions
by the water had waited and watched afar.
He bound to the beach the broad-bosomed ship
with anchor-bands, lest ocean-billows
that trusty timber should tear away.
Then Beowulf bade them bear the treasure,
gold and jewels; no journey far
was it thence to go to the giver of rings,
Hygelac Hrethling: at home he dwelt
by the sea-wall close, himself and clan.
Haughty that house, a hero the king,
high the hall, and Hygd right young,
wise and wary, though winters few
in those fortress walls she had found a home,
Haereth's daughter. Nor humble her ways,
nor grudged she gifts to the Geatish men,
of precious treasure. Not Thryth's pride showed she,
folk-queen famed, or that fell deceit.
Was none so daring that durst make bold
(save her lord alone) of the liegemen dear
that lady full in the face to look,
but forged fetters he found his lot,
bonds of death! And brief the respite;
soon as they seized him, his sword-doom was spoken,
and the burnished blade a baleful murder
proclaimed and closed. No queenly way
for woman to practise, though peerless she,
that the weaver-of-peace from warrior dear
by wrath and lying his life should reave!
But Hemming's kinsman hindered this. --
For over their ale men also told
that of these folk-horrors fewer she wrought,
onslaughts of evil, after she went,
gold-decked bride, to the brave young prince,
atheling haughty, and Offa's hall
o'er the fallow flood at her father's bidding
safely sought, where since she prospered,
royal, throned, rich in goods,
fain of the fair life fate had sent her,
and leal in love to the lord of warriors.
He, of all heroes I heard of ever
from sea to sea, of the sons of earth,
most excellent seemed. Hence Offa was praised
for his fighting and feeing by far-off men,
the spear-bold warrior; wisely he ruled
over his empire. Eomer woke to him,
help of heroes, Hemming's kinsman,
Grandson of Garmund, grim in war.
HASTENED the hardy one, henchmen with him,
sandy strand of the sea to tread
and widespread ways. The world's great candle,
sun shone from south. They strode along
with sturdy steps to the spot they knew
where the battle-king young, his burg within,
slayer of Ongentheow, shared the rings,
shelter-of-heroes. To Hygelac
Beowulf's coming was quickly told, --
that there in the court the clansmen's refuge,
the shield-companion sound and alive,
hale from the hero-play homeward strode.
With haste in the hall, by highest order,
room for the rovers was readily made.
By his sovran he sat, come safe from battle,
kinsman by kinsman. His kindly lord
he first had greeted in gracious form,
with manly words. The mead dispensing,
came through the high hall Haereth's daughter,
winsome to warriors, wine-cup bore
to the hands of the heroes. Hygelac then
his comrade fairly with question plied
in the lofty hall, sore longing to know
what manner of sojourn the Sea-Geats made.
"What came of thy quest, my kinsman Beowulf,
when thy yearnings suddenly swept thee yonder
battle to seek o'er the briny sea,
combat in Heorot? Hrothgar couldst thou
aid at all, the honored chief,
in his wide-known woes? With waves of care
my sad heart seethed; I sore mistrusted
my loved one's venture: long I begged thee
by no means to seek that slaughtering monster,
but suffer the South-Danes to settle their feud
themselves with Grendel. Now God be thanked
that safe and sound I can see thee now!"
Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"'Tis known and unhidden, Hygelac Lord,
to many men, that meeting of ours,
struggle grim between Grendel and me,
which we fought on the field where full too many
sorrows he wrought for the Scylding-Victors,
evils unending. These all I avenged.
No boast can be from breed of Grendel,
any on earth, for that uproar at dawn,
from the longest-lived of the loathsome race
in fleshly fold! -- But first I went
Hrothgar to greet in the hall of gifts,
where Healfdene's kinsman high-renowned,
soon as my purpose was plain to him,
assigned me a seat by his son and heir.
The liegemen were lusty; my life-days never
such merry men over mead in hall
have I heard under heaven! The high-born queen,
people's peace-bringer, passed through the hall,
cheered the young clansmen, clasps of gold,
ere she sought her seat, to sundry gave.
Oft to the heroes Hrothgar's daughter,
to earls in turn, the ale-cup tendered, --
she whom I heard these hall-companions
Freawaru name, when fretted gold
she proffered the warriors. Promised is she,
gold-decked maid, to the glad son of Froda.
Sage this seems to the Scylding's-friend,
kingdom's-keeper: he counts it wise
the woman to wed so and ward off feud,
store of slaughter. But seldom ever
when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink
but briefest while, though the bride be fair!
"Nor haply will like it the Heathobard lord,
and as little each of his liegemen all,
when a thane of the Danes, in that doughty throng,
goes with the lady along their hall,
and on him the old-time heirlooms glisten
hard and ring-decked, Heathobard's treasure,
weapons that once they wielded fair
until they lost at the linden-play
liegeman leal and their lives as well.
Then, over the ale, on this heirloom gazing,
some ash-wielder old who has all in mind
that spear-death of men, -- he is stern of mood,
heavy at heart, -- in the hero young
tests the temper and tries the soul
and war-hate wakens, with words like these:--
Canst thou not, comrade, ken that sword
which to the fray thy father carried
in his final feud, 'neath the fighting-mask,
dearest of blades, when the Danish slew him
and wielded the war-place on Withergild's fall,
after havoc of heroes, those hardy Scyldings?
Now, the son of a certain slaughtering Dane,
proud of his treasure, paces this hall,
joys in the killing, and carries the jewel
that rightfully ought to be owned by thee!
Thus he urges and eggs him all the time
with keenest words, till occasion offers
that Freawaru's thane, for his father's deed,
after bite of brand in his blood must slumber,
losing his life; but that liegeman flies
living away, for the land he kens.
And thus be broken on both their sides
oaths of the earls, when Ingeld's breast
wells with war-hate, and wife-love now
after the care-billows cooler grows.
"So I hold not high the Heathobards' faith
due to the Danes, or their during love
and pact of peace. -- But I pass from that,
turning to Grendel, O giver-of-treasure,
and saying in full how the fight resulted,
hand-fray of heroes. When heaven's jewel
had fled o'er far fields, that fierce sprite came,
night-foe savage, to seek us out
where safe and sound we sentried the hall.
To Hondscio then was that harassing deadly,
his fall there was fated. He first was slain,
girded warrior. Grendel on him
turned murderous mouth, on our mighty kinsman,
and all of the brave man's body devoured.
Yet none the earlier, empty-handed,
would the bloody-toothed murderer, mindful of bale,
outward go from the gold-decked hall:
but me he attacked in his terror of might,
with greedy hand grasped me. A glove hung by him
wide and wondrous, wound with bands;
and in artful wise it all was wrought,
by devilish craft, of dragon-skins.
Me therein, an innocent man,
the fiendish foe was fain to thrust
with many another. He might not so,
when I all angrily upright stood.
'Twere long to relate how that land-destroyer
I paid in kind for his cruel deeds;
yet there, my prince, this people of thine
got fame by my fighting. He fled away,
and a little space his life preserved;
but there staid behind him his stronger hand
left in Heorot; heartsick thence
on the floor of the ocean that outcast fell.
Me for this struggle the Scyldings'-friend
paid in plenty with plates of gold,
with many a treasure, when morn had come
and we all at the banquet-board sat down.
Then was song and glee. The gray-haired Scylding,
much tested, told of the times of yore.
Whiles the hero his harp bestirred,
wood-of-delight; now lays he chanted
of sooth and sadness, or said aright
legends of wonder, the wide-hearted king;
or for years of his youth he would yearn at times,
for strength of old struggles, now stricken with age,
hoary hero: his heart surged full
when, wise with winters, he wailed their flight.
Thus in the hall the whole of that day
at ease we feasted, till fell o'er earth
another night. Anon full ready
in greed of vengeance, Grendel's mother
set forth all doleful. Dead was her son
through war-hate of Weders; now, woman monstrous
with fury fell a foeman she slew,
avenged her offspring. From Aeschere old,
loyal councillor, life was gone;
nor might they e'en, when morning broke,
those Danish people, their death-done comrade
burn with brands, on balefire lay
the man they mourned. Under mountain stream
she had carried the corpse with cruel hands.
For Hrothgar that was the heaviest sorrow
of all that had laden the lord of his folk.
The leader then, by thy life, besought me
(sad was his soul) in the sea-waves' coil
to play the hero and hazard my being
for glory of prowess: my guerdon he pledged.
I then in the waters -- 'tis widely known --
that sea-floor-guardian savage found.
Hand-to-hand there a while we struggled;
billows welled blood; in the briny hall
her head I hewed with a hardy blade
from Grendel's mother, -- and gained my life,
though not without danger. My doom was not yet.
Then the haven-of-heroes, Healfdene's son,
gave me in guerdon great gifts of price.
"So held this king to the customs old,
that I wanted for nought in the wage I gained,
the meed of my might; he made me gifts,
Healfdene's heir, for my own disposal.
Now to thee, my prince, I proffer them all,
gladly give them. Thy grace alone
can find me favor. Few indeed
have I of kinsmen, save, Hygelac, thee!"
Then he bade them bear him the boar-head standard,
the battle-helm high, and breastplate gray,
the splendid sword; then spake in form:--
"Me this war-gear the wise old prince,
Hrothgar, gave, and his hest he added,
that its story be straightway said to thee. --
A while it was held by Heorogar king,
for long time lord of the land of Scyldings;
yet not to his son the sovran left it,
to daring Heoroweard, -- dear as he was to him,
his harness of battle. -- Well hold thou it all!"
And I heard that soon passed o'er the path of this treasure,
all apple-fallow, four good steeds,
each like the others, arms and horses
he gave to the king. So should kinsmen be,
not weave one another the net of wiles,
or with deep-hid treachery death contrive
for neighbor and comrade. His nephew was ever
by hardy Hygelac held full dear,
and each kept watch o'er the other's weal.
I heard, too, the necklace to Hygd he presented,
wonder-wrought treasure, which Wealhtheow gave him
sovran's daughter: three steeds he added,
slender and saddle-gay. Since such gift
the gem gleamed bright on the breast of the queen.
Thus showed his strain the son of Ecgtheow
as a man remarked for mighty deeds
and acts of honor. At ale he slew not
comrade or kin; nor cruel his mood,
though of sons of earth his strength was greatest,
a glorious gift that God had sent
the splendid leader. Long was he spurned,
and worthless by Geatish warriors held;
him at mead the master-of-clans
failed full oft to favor at all.
Slack and shiftless the strong men deemed him,
profitless prince; but payment came,
to the warrior honored, for all his woes. --
Then the bulwark-of-earls bade bring within,
hardy chieftain, Hrethel's heirloom
garnished with gold: no Geat e'er knew
in shape of a sword a statelier prize.
The brand he laid in Beowulf's lap;
and of hides assigned him seven thousand,
with house and high-seat. They held in common
land alike by their line of birth,
inheritance, home: but higher the king
because of his rule o'er the realm itself.
Now further it fell with the flight of years,
with harryings horrid, that Hygelac perished,
and Heardred, too, by hewing of swords
under the shield-wall slaughtered lay,
when him at the van of his victor-folk
sought hardy heroes, Heatho-Scilfings,
in arms o'erwhelming Hereric's nephew.
Then Beowulf came as king this broad
realm to wield; and he ruled it well
fifty winters, a wise old prince,
warding his land, until One began
in the dark of night, a Dragon, to rage.
In the grave on the hill a hoard it guarded,
in the stone-barrow steep. A strait path reached it,
unknown to mortals. Some man, however,
came by chance that cave within
to the heathen hoard. In hand he took
a golden goblet, nor gave he it back,
stole with it away, while the watcher slept,
by thievish wiles: for the warden's wrath
prince and people must pay betimes!
THAT way he went with no will of his own,
in danger of life, to the dragon's hoard,
but for pressure of peril, some prince's thane.
He fled in fear the fatal scourge,
seeking shelter, a sinful man,
and entered in. At the awful sight
tottered that guest, and terror seized him;
yet the wretched fugitive rallied anon
from fright and fear ere he fled away,
and took the cup from that treasure-hoard.
Of such besides there was store enough,
heirlooms old, the earth below,
which some earl forgotten, in ancient years,
left the last of his lofty race,
heedfully there had hidden away,
dearest treasure. For death of yore
had hurried all hence; and he alone
left to live, the last of the clan,
weeping his friends, yet wished to bide
warding the treasure, his one delight,
though brief his respite. The barrow, new-ready,
to strand and sea-waves stood anear,
hard by the headland, hidden and closed;
there laid within it his lordly heirlooms
and heaped hoard of heavy gold
that warden of rings. Few words he spake:
"Now hold thou, earth, since heroes may not,
what earls have owned! Lo, erst from thee
brave men brought it! But battle-death seized
and cruel killing my clansmen all,
robbed them of life and a liegeman's joys.
None have I left to lift the sword,
or to cleanse the carven cup of price,
beaker bright. My brave are gone.
And the helmet hard, all haughty with gold,
shall part from its plating. Polishers sleep
who could brighten and burnish the battle-mask;
and those weeds of war that were wont to brave
over bicker of shields the bite of steel
rust with their bearer. The ringed mail
fares not far with famous chieftain,
at side of hero! No harp's delight,
no glee-wood's gladness! No good hawk now
flies through the hall! Nor horses fleet
stamp in the burgstead! Battle and death
the flower of my race have reft away."
Mournful of mood, thus he moaned his woe,
alone, for them all, and unblithe wept
by day and by night, till death's fell wave
o'erwhelmed his heart. His hoard-of-bliss
that old ill-doer open found,
who, blazing at twilight the barrows haunteth,
naked foe-dragon flying by night
folded in fire: the folk of earth
dread him sore. 'Tis his doom to seek
hoard in the graves, and heathen gold
to watch, many-wintered: nor wins he thereby!
Powerful this plague-of-the-people thus
held the house of the hoard in earth
three hundred winters; till One aroused
wrath in his breast, to the ruler bearing
that costly cup, and the king implored
for bond of peace. So the barrow was plundered,
borne off was booty. His boon was granted
that wretched man; and his ruler saw
first time what was fashioned in far-off days.
When the dragon awoke, new woe was kindled.
O'er the stone he snuffed. The stark-heart found
footprint of foe who so far had gone
in his hidden craft by the creature's head. --
So may the undoomed easily flee
evils and exile, if only he gain
the grace of The Wielder! -- That warden of gold
o'er the ground went seeking, greedy to find
the man who wrought him such wrong in sleep.
Savage and burning, the barrow he circled
all without; nor was any there,
none in the waste.... Yet war he desired,
was eager for battle. The barrow he entered,
sought the cup, and discovered soon
that some one of mortals had searched his treasure,
his lordly gold. The guardian waited
ill-enduring till evening came;
boiling with wrath was the barrow's keeper,
and fain with flame the foe to pay
for the dear cup's loss. -- Now day was fled
as the worm had wished. By its wall no more
was it glad to bide, but burning flew
folded in flame: a fearful beginning
for sons of the soil; and soon it came,
in the doom of their lord, to a dreadful end.
THEN the baleful fiend its fire belched out,
and bright homes burned. The blaze stood high
all landsfolk frighting. No living thing
would that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.
Wide was the dragon's warring seen,
its fiendish fury far and near,
as the grim destroyer those Geatish people
hated and hounded. To hidden lair,
to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.
Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,
with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,
its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!
To Beowulf then the bale was told
quickly and truly: the king's own home,
of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,
that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old man
sad in heart, 'twas heaviest sorrow.
The sage assumed that his sovran God
he had angered, breaking ancient law,
and embittered the Lord. His breast within
with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.
The folk's own fastness that fiery dragon
with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all
washed by waves; but the warlike king,
prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.
Warriors'-bulwark, he bade them work
all of iron -- the earl's commander --
a war-shield wondrous: well he knew
that forest-wood against fire were worthless,
linden could aid not. -- Atheling brave,
he was fated to finish this fleeting life,
his days on earth, and the dragon with him,
though long it had watched o'er the wealth of the hoard! --
Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,
to follow the flyer-afar with a host,
a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,
nor deemed he dreadful the dragon's warring,
its vigor and valor: ventures desperate
he had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,
contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,
Hrothgar's hall he had wholly purged,
and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,
loathsome breed! Not least was that
of hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,
when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,
lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,
son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts died,
by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fled
through strength of himself and his swimming power,
though alone, and his arms were laden with thirty
coats of mail, when he came to the sea!
Nor yet might Hetwaras haughtily boast
their craft of contest, who carried against him
shields to the fight: but few escaped
from strife with the hero to seek their homes!
Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow's son
lonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,
where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,
rings and royal-seat, reckoning naught
the strength of her son to save their kingdom
from hostile hordes, after Hygelac's death.
No sooner for this could the stricken ones
in any wise move that atheling's mind
over young Heardred's head as lord
and ruler of all the realm to be:
yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,
aided in honor, till, older grown,
he wielded the Weder-Geats. -- Wandering exiles
sought him o'er seas, the sons of Ohtere,
who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings'-helmet,
the bravest and best that broke the rings,
in Swedish land, of the sea-kings' line,
haughty hero. Hence Heardred's end.
For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,
the blade's fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;
but the son of Ongentheow sought again
house and home when Heardred fell,
leaving Beowulf lord of Geats
and gift-seat's master. -- A good king he!
THE fall of his lord he was fain to requite
in after days; and to Eadgils he proved
friend to the friendless, and forces sent
over the sea to the son of Ohtere,
weapons and warriors: well repaid he
those care-paths cold when the king he slew.
Thus safe through struggles the son of Ecgtheow
had passed a plenty, through perils dire,
with daring deeds, till this day was come
that doomed him now with the dragon to strive.
With comrades eleven the lord of Geats
swollen in rage went seeking the dragon.
He had heard whence all the harm arose
and the killing of clansmen; that cup of price
on the lap of the lord had been laid by the finder.
In the throng was this one thirteenth man,
starter of all the strife and ill,
care-laden captive; cringing thence
forced and reluctant, he led them on
till he came in ken of that cavern-hall,
the barrow delved near billowy surges,
flood of ocean. Within 'twas full
of wire-gold and jewels; a jealous warden,
warrior trusty, the treasures held,
lurked in his lair. Not light the task
of entrance for any of earth-born men!
Sat on the headland the hero king,
spake words of hail to his hearth-companions,
gold-friend of Geats. All gloomy his soul,
wavering, death-bound. Wyrd full nigh
stood ready to greet the gray-haired man,
to seize his soul-hoard, sunder apart
life and body. Not long would be
the warrior's spirit enwound with flesh.
Beowulf spake, the bairn of Ecgtheow:--
"Through store of struggles I strove in youth,
mighty feuds; I mind them all.
I was seven years old when the sovran of rings,
friend-of-his-folk, from my father took me,
had me, and held me, Hrethel the king,
with food and fee, faithful in kinship.
Ne'er, while I lived there, he loathlier found me,
bairn in the burg, than his birthright sons,
Herebeald and Haethcyn and Hygelac mine.
For the eldest of these, by unmeet chance,
by kinsman's deed, was the death-bed strewn,
when Haethcyn killed him with horny bow,
his own dear liege laid low with an arrow,
missed the mark and his mate shot down,
one brother the other, with bloody shaft.
A feeless fight, and a fearful sin,
horror to Hrethel; yet, hard as it was,
unavenged must the atheling die!
Too awful it is for an aged man
to bide and bear, that his bairn so young
rides on the gallows. A rime he makes,
sorrow-song for his son there hanging
as rapture of ravens; no rescue now
can come from the old, disabled man!
Still is he minded, as morning breaks,
of the heir gone elsewhere; another he hopes not
he will bide to see his burg within
as ward for his wealth, now the one has found
doom of death that the deed incurred.
Forlorn he looks on the lodge of his son,
wine-hall waste and wind-swept chambers
reft of revel. The rider sleepeth,
the hero, far-hidden; no harp resounds,
in the courts no wassail, as once was heard.
"THEN he goes to his chamber, a grief-song chants
alone for his lost. Too large all seems,
homestead and house. So the helmet-of-Weders
hid in his heart for Herebeald
waves of woe. No way could he take
to avenge on the slayer slaughter so foul;
nor e'en could he harass that hero at all
with loathing deed, though he loved him not.
And so for the sorrow his soul endured,
men's gladness he gave up and God's light chose.
Lands and cities he left his sons
(as the wealthy do) when he went from earth.
There was strife and struggle 'twixt Swede and Geat
o'er the width of waters; war arose,
hard battle-horror, when Hrethel died,
and Ongentheow's offspring grew
strife-keen, bold, nor brooked o'er the seas
pact of peace, but pushed their hosts
to harass in hatred by Hreosnabeorh.
Men of my folk for that feud had vengeance,
for woful war ('tis widely known),
though one of them bought it with blood of his heart,
a bargain hard: for Haethcyn proved
fatal that fray, for the first-of-Geats.
At morn, I heard, was the murderer killed
by kinsman for kinsman, with clash of sword,
when Ongentheow met Eofor there.
Wide split the war-helm: wan he fell,
hoary Scylfing; the hand that smote him
of feud was mindful, nor flinched from the death-blow.
-- "For all that he gave me, my gleaming sword
repaid him at war, -- such power I wielded, --
for lordly treasure: with land he entrusted me,
homestead and house. He had no need
from Swedish realm, or from Spear-Dane folk,
or from men of the Gifths, to get him help, --
some warrior worse for wage to buy!
Ever I fought in the front of all,
sole to the fore; and so shall I fight
while I bide in life and this blade shall last
that early and late hath loyal proved
since for my doughtiness Daeghrefn fell,
slain by my hand, the Hugas' champion.
Nor fared he thence to the Frisian king
with the booty back, and breast-adornments;
but, slain in struggle, that standard-bearer
fell, atheling brave. Not with blade was he slain,
but his bones were broken by brawny gripe,
his heart-waves stilled. -- The sword-edge now,
hard blade and my hand, for the hoard shall strive."
Beowulf spake, and a battle-vow made
his last of all: "I have lived through many
wars in my youth; now once again,
old folk-defender, feud will I seek,
do doughty deeds, if the dark destroyer
forth from his cavern come to fight me!"
Then hailed he the helmeted heroes all,
for the last time greeting his liegemen dear,
comrades of war: "I should carry no weapon,
no sword to the serpent, if sure I knew
how, with such enemy, else my vows
I could gain as I did in Grendel's day.
But fire in this fight I must fear me now,
and poisonous breath; so I bring with me
breastplate and board. From the barrow's keeper
no footbreadth flee I. One fight shall end
our war by the wall, as Wyrd allots,
all mankind's master. My mood is bold
but forbears to boast o'er this battling-flyer.
-- Now abide by the barrow, ye breastplate-mailed,
ye heroes in harness, which of us twain
better from battle-rush bear his wounds.
Wait ye the finish. The fight is not yours,
nor meet for any but me alone
to measure might with this monster here
and play the hero. Hardily I
shall win that wealth, or war shall seize,
cruel killing, your king and lord!"
Up stood then with shield the sturdy champion,
stayed by the strength of his single manhood,
and hardy 'neath helmet his harness bore
under cleft of the cliffs: no coward's path!
Soon spied by the wall that warrior chief,
survivor of many a victory-field
where foemen fought with furious clashings,
an arch of stone; and within, a stream
that broke from the barrow. The brooklet's wave
was hot with fire. The hoard that way
he never could hope unharmed to near,
or endure those deeps, for the dragon's flame.
Then let from his breast, for he burst with rage,
the Weder-Geat prince a word outgo;
stormed the stark-heart; stern went ringing
and clear his cry 'neath the cliff-rocks gray.
The hoard-guard heard a human voice;
his rage was enkindled. No respite now
for pact of peace! The poison-breath
of that foul worm first came forth from the cave,
hot reek-of-fight: the rocks resounded.
Stout by the stone-way his shield he raised,
lord of the Geats, against the loathed-one;
while with courage keen that coiled foe
came seeking strife. The sturdy king
had drawn his sword, not dull of edge,
heirloom old; and each of the two
felt fear of his foe, though fierce their mood.
Stoutly stood with his shield high-raised
the warrior king, as the worm now coiled
together amain: the mailed-one waited.
Now, spire by spire, fast sped and glided
that blazing serpent. The shield protected,
soul and body a shorter while
for the hero-king than his heart desired,
could his will have wielded the welcome respite
but once in his life! But Wyrd denied it,
and victory's honors. -- His arm he lifted
lord of the Geats, the grim foe smote
with atheling's heirloom. Its edge was turned
brown blade, on the bone, and bit more feebly
than its noble master had need of then
in his baleful stress. -- Then the barrow's keeper
waxed full wild for that weighty blow,
cast deadly flames; wide drove and far
those vicious fires. No victor's glory
the Geats' lord boasted; his brand had failed,
naked in battle, as never it should,
excellent iron! -- 'Twas no easy path
that Ecgtheow's honored heir must tread
over the plain to the place of the foe;
for against his will he must win a home
elsewhere far, as must all men, leaving
this lapsing life! -- Not long it was
ere those champions grimly closed again.
The hoard-guard was heartened; high heaved his breast
once more; and by peril was pressed again,
enfolded in flames, the folk-commander!
Nor yet about him his band of comrades,
sons of athelings, armed stood
with warlike front: to the woods they bent them,
their lives to save. But the soul of one
with care was cumbered. Kinship true
can never be marred in a noble mind!
WIGLAF his name was, Weohstan's son,
linden-thane loved, the lord of Scylfings,
Aelfhere's kinsman. His king he now saw
with heat under helmet hard oppressed.
He minded the prizes his prince had given him,
wealthy seat of the Waegmunding line,
and folk-rights that his father owned
Not long he lingered. The linden yellow,
his shield, he seized; the old sword he drew: --
as heirloom of Eanmund earth-dwellers knew it,
who was slain by the sword-edge, son of Ohtere,
friendless exile, erst in fray
killed by Weohstan, who won for his kin
brown-bright helmet, breastplate ringed,
old sword of Eotens, Onela's gift,
weeds of war of the warrior-thane,
battle-gear brave: though a brother's child
had been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onela.
For winters this war-gear Weohstan kept,
breastplate and board, till his bairn had grown
earlship to earn as the old sire did:
then he gave him, mid Geats, the gear of battle,
portion huge, when he passed from life,
fared aged forth. For the first time now
with his leader-lord the liegeman young
was bidden to share the shock of battle.
Neither softened his soul, nor the sire's bequest
weakened in war. So the worm found out
when once in fight the foes had met!
Wiglaf spake, -- and his words were sage;
sad in spirit, he said to his comrades:--
"I remember the time, when mead we took,
what promise we made to this prince of ours
in the banquet-hall, to our breaker-of-rings,
for gear of combat to give him requital,
for hard-sword and helmet, if hap should bring
stress of this sort! Himself who chose us
from all his army to aid him now,
urged us to glory, and gave these treasures,
because he counted us keen with the spear
and hardy 'neath helm, though this hero-work
our leader hoped unhelped and alone
to finish for us, -- folk-defender
who hath got him glory greater than all men
for daring deeds! Now the day is come
that our noble master has need of the might
of warriors stout. Let us stride along
the hero to help while the heat is about him
glowing and grim! For God is my witness
I am far more fain the fire should seize
along with my lord these limbs of mine!
Unsuiting it seems our shields to bear
homeward hence, save here we essay
to fell the foe and defend the life
of the Weders' lord. I wot 'twere shame
on the law of our land if alone the king
out of Geatish warriors woe endured
and sank in the struggle! My sword and helmet,
breastplate and board, for us both shall serve!"
Through slaughter-reek strode he to succor his chieftain,
his battle-helm bore, and brief words spake:--
"Beowulf dearest, do all bravely,
as in youthful days of yore thou vowedst
that while life should last thou wouldst let no wise
thy glory droop! Now, great in deeds,
atheling steadfast, with all thy strength
shield thy life! I will stand to help thee."
At the words the worm came once again,
murderous monster mad with rage,
with fire-billows flaming, its foes to seek,
the hated men. In heat-waves burned
that board to the boss, and the breastplate failed
to shelter at all the spear-thane young.
Yet quickly under his kinsman's shield
went eager the earl, since his own was now
all burned by the blaze. The bold king again
had mind of his glory: with might his glaive
was driven into the dragon's head, --
blow nerved by hate. But Naegling was shivered,
broken in battle was Beowulf's sword,
old and gray. 'Twas granted him not
that ever the edge of iron at all
could help him at strife: too strong was his hand,
so the tale is told, and he tried too far
with strength of stroke all swords he wielded,
though sturdy their steel: they steaded him nought.
Then for the third time thought on its feud
that folk-destroyer, fire-dread dragon,
and rushed on the hero, where room allowed,
battle-grim, burning; its bitter teeth
closed on his neck, and covered him
with waves of blood from his breast that welled.
'TWAS now, men say, in his sovran's need
that the earl made known his noble strain,
craft and keenness and courage enduring.
Heedless of harm, though his hand was burned,
hardy-hearted, he helped his kinsman.
A little lower the loathsome beast
he smote with sword; his steel drove in
bright and burnished; that blaze began
to lose and lessen. At last the king
wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,
a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,
and the Weders'-helm smote that worm asunder,
felled the foe, flung forth its life.
So had they killed it, kinsmen both,
athelings twain: thus an earl should be
in danger's day! -- Of deeds of valor
this conqueror's-hour of the king was last,
of his work in the world. The wound began,
which that dragon-of-earth had erst inflicted,
to swell and smart; and soon he found
in his breast was boiling, baleful and deep,
pain of poison. The prince walked on,
wise in his thought, to the wall of rock;
then sat, and stared at the structure of giants,
where arch of stone and steadfast column
upheld forever that hall in earth.
Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless
lave with water his winsome lord,
the king and conqueror covered with blood,
with struggle spent, and unspan his helmet.
Beowulf spake in spite of his hurt,
his mortal wound; full well he knew
his portion now was past and gone
of earthly bliss, and all had fled
of his file of days, and death was near:
"I would fain bestow on son of mine
this gear of war, were given me now
that any heir should after me come
of my proper blood. This people I ruled
fifty winters. No folk-king was there,
none at all, of the neighboring clans
who war would wage me with 'warriors'-friends'
and threat me with horrors. At home I bided
what fate might come, and I cared for mine own;
feuds I sought not, nor falsely swore
ever on oath. For all these things,
though fatally wounded, fain am I!
From the Ruler-of-Man no wrath shall seize me,
when life from my frame must flee away,
for killing of kinsmen! Now quickly go
and gaze on that hoard 'neath the hoary rock,
Wiglaf loved, now the worm lies low,
sleeps, heart-sore, of his spoil bereaved.
And fare in haste. I would fain behold
the gorgeous heirlooms, golden store,
have joy in the jewels and gems, lay down
softlier for sight of this splendid hoard
my life and the lordship I long have held."
I HAVE heard that swiftly the son of Weohstan
at wish and word of his wounded king, --
war-sick warrior, -- woven mail-coat,
battle-sark, bore 'neath the barrow's roof.
Then the clansman keen, of conquest proud,
passing the seat, saw store of jewels
and glistening gold the ground along;
by the wall were marvels, and many a vessel
in the den of the dragon, the dawn-flier old:
unburnished bowls of bygone men
reft of richness; rusty helms
of the olden age; and arm-rings many
wondrously woven. -- Such wealth of gold,
booty from barrow, can burden with pride
each human wight: let him hide it who will! --
His glance too fell on a gold-wove banner
high o'er the hoard, of handiwork noblest,
brilliantly broidered; so bright its gleam,
all the earth-floor he easily saw
and viewed all these vessels. No vestige now
was seen of the serpent: the sword had ta'en him.
Then, I heard, the hill of its hoard was reft,
old work of giants, by one alone;
he burdened his bosom with beakers and plate
at his own good will, and the ensign took,
brightest of beacons. -- The blade of his lord
-- its edge was iron -- had injured deep
one that guarded the golden hoard
many a year and its murder-fire
spread hot round the barrow in horror-billows
at midnight hour, till it met its doom.
Hasted the herald, the hoard so spurred him
his track to retrace; he was troubled by doubt,
high-souled hero, if haply he'd find
alive, where he left him, the lord of Weders,
weakening fast by the wall of the cave.
So he carried the load. His lord and king
he found all bleeding, famous chief
at the lapse of life. The liegeman again
plashed him with water, till point of word
broke through the breast-hoard. Beowulf spake,
sage and sad, as he stared at the gold. --
"For the gold and treasure, to God my thanks,
to the Wielder-of-Wonders, with words I say,
for what I behold, to Heaven's Lord,
for the grace that I give such gifts to my folk
or ever the day of my death be run!
Now I've bartered here for booty of treasure
the last of my life, so look ye well
to the needs of my land! No longer I tarry.
A barrow bid ye the battle-fanned raise
for my ashes. 'Twill shine by the shore of the flood,
to folk of mine memorial fair
on Hrones Headland high uplifted,
that ocean-wanderers oft may hail
Beowulf's Barrow, as back from far
they drive their keels o'er the darkling wave."
From his neck he unclasped the collar of gold,
valorous king, to his vassal gave it
with bright-gold helmet, breastplate, and ring,
to the youthful thane: bade him use them in joy.
"Thou art end and remnant of all our race
the Waegmunding name. For Wyrd hath swept them,
all my line, to the land of doom,
earls in their glory: I after them go."
This word was the last which the wise old man
harbored in heart ere hot death-waves
of balefire he chose. From his bosom fled
his soul to seek the saints' reward.
IT was heavy hap for that hero young
on his lord beloved to look and find him
lying on earth with life at end,
sorrowful sight. But the slayer too,
awful earth-dragon, empty of breath,
lay felled in fight, nor, fain of its treasure,
could the writhing monster rule it more.
For edges of iron had ended its days,
hard and battle-sharp, hammers' leaving;
and that flier-afar had fallen to ground
hushed by its hurt, its hoard all near,
no longer lusty aloft to whirl
at midnight, making its merriment seen,
proud of its prizes: prone it sank
by the handiwork of the hero-king.
Forsooth among folk but few achieve,
-- though sturdy and strong, as stories tell me,
and never so daring in deed of valor, --
the perilous breath of a poison-foe
to brave, and to rush on the ring-board hall,
whenever his watch the warden keeps
bold in the barrow. Beowulf paid
the price of death for that precious hoard;
and each of the foes had found the end
of this fleeting life. Befell erelong
that the laggards in war the wood had left,
trothbreakers, cowards, ten together,
fearing before to flourish a spear
in the sore distress of their sovran lord.
Now in their shame their shields they carried,
armor of fight, where the old man lay;
and they gazed on Wiglaf. Wearied he sat
at his sovran's shoulder, shieldsman good,
to wake him with water. Nowise it availed.
Though well he wished it, in world no more
could he barrier life for that leader-of-battles
nor baffle the will of all-wielding God.
Doom of the Lord was law o'er the deeds
of every man, as it is to-day.
Grim was the answer, easy to get,
from the youth for those that had yielded to fear!
Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan, --
mournful he looked on those men unloved:--
"Who sooth will speak, can say indeed
that the ruler who gave you golden rings
and the harness of war in which ye stand
-- for he at ale-bench often-times
bestowed on hall-folk helm and breastplate,
lord to liegemen, the likeliest gear
which near of far he could find to give, --
threw away and wasted these weeds of battle,
on men who failed when the foemen came!
Not at all could the king of his comrades-in-arms
venture to vaunt, though the Victory-Wielder,
God, gave him grace that he got revenge
sole with his sword in stress and need.
To rescue his life, 'twas little that I
could serve him in struggle; yet shift I made
(hopeless it seemed) to help my kinsman.
Its strength ever waned, when with weapon I struck
that fatal foe, and the fire less strongly
flowed from its head. -- Too few the heroes
in throe of contest that thronged to our king!
Now gift of treasure and girding of sword,
joy of the house and home-delight
shall fail your folk; his freehold-land
every clansman within your kin
shall lose and leave, when lords highborn
hear afar of that flight of yours,
a fameless deed. Yea, death is better
for liegemen all than a life of shame!"
THAT battle-toil bade he at burg to announce,
at the fort on the cliff, where, full of sorrow,
all the morning earls had sat,
daring shieldsmen, in doubt of twain:
would they wail as dead, or welcome home,
their lord beloved? Little kept back
of the tidings new, but told them all,
the herald that up the headland rode. --
"Now the willing-giver to Weder folk
in death-bed lies; the Lord of Geats
on the slaughter-bed sleeps by the serpent's deed!
And beside him is stretched that slayer-of-men
with knife-wounds sick: no sword availed
on the awesome thing in any wise
to work a wound. There Wiglaf sitteth,
Weohstan's bairn, by Beowulf's side,
the living earl by the other dead,
and heavy of heart a head-watch keeps
o'er friend and foe. -- Now our folk may look
for waging of war when once unhidden
to Frisian and Frank the fall of the king
is spread afar. -- The strife began
when hot on the Hugas Hygelac fell
and fared with his fleet to the Frisian land.
Him there the Hetwaras humbled in war,
plied with such prowess their power o'erwhelming
that the bold-in-battle bowed beneath it
and fell in fight. To his friends no wise
could that earl give treasure! And ever since
the Merowings' favor has failed us wholly.
Nor aught expect I of peace and faith
from Swedish folk. 'Twas spread afar
how Ongentheow reft at Ravenswood
Haethcyn Hrethling of hope and life,
when the folk of Geats for the first time sought
in wanton pride the Warlike-Scylfings.
Soon the sage old sire of Ohtere,
ancient and awful, gave answering blow;
the sea-king he slew, and his spouse redeemed,
his good wife rescued, though robbed of her gold,
mother of Ohtere and Onela.
Then he followed his foes, who fled before him
sore beset and stole their way,
bereft of a ruler, to Ravenswood.
With his host he besieged there what swords had left,
the weary and wounded; woes he threatened
the whole night through to that hard-pressed throng:
some with the morrow his sword should kill,
some should go to the gallows-tree
for rapture of ravens. But rescue came
with dawn of day for those desperate men
when they heard the horn of Hygelac sound,
tones of his trumpet; the trusty king
had followed their trail with faithful band.
"THE bloody swath of Swedes and Geats
and the storm of their strife, were seen afar,
how folk against folk the fight had wakened.
The ancient king with his atheling band
sought his citadel, sorrowing much:
Ongentheow earl went up to his burg.
He had tested Hygelac's hardihood,
the proud one's prowess, would prove it no longer,
defied no more those fighting-wanderers
nor hoped from the seamen to save his hoard,
his bairn and his bride: so he bent him again,
old, to his earth-walls. Yet after him came
with slaughter for Swedes the standards of Hygelac
o'er peaceful plains in pride advancing,
till Hrethelings fought in the fenced town.
Then Ongentheow with edge of sword,
the hoary-bearded, was held at bay,
and the folk-king there was forced to suffer
Eofor's anger. In ire, at the king
Wulf Wonreding with weapon struck;
and the chieftain's blood, for that blow, in streams
flowed 'neath his hair. No fear felt he,
stout old Scylfing, but straightway repaid
in better bargain that bitter stroke
and faced his foe with fell intent.
Nor swift enough was the son of Wonred
answer to render the aged chief;
too soon on his head the helm was cloven;
blood-bedecked he bowed to earth,
and fell adown; not doomed was he yet,
and well he waxed, though the wound was sore.
Then the hardy Hygelac-thane,
when his brother fell, with broad brand smote,
giants' sword crashing through giants'-helm
across the shield-wall: sank the king,
his folk's old herdsman, fatally hurt.
There were many to bind the brother's wounds
and lift him, fast as fate allowed
his people to wield the place-of-war.
But Eofor took from Ongentheow,
earl from other, the iron-breastplate,
hard sword hilted, and helmet too,
and the hoar-chief's harness to Hygelac carried,
who took the trappings, and truly promised
rich fee 'mid folk, -- and fulfilled it so.
For that grim strife gave the Geatish lord,
Hrethel's offspring, when home he came,
to Eofor and Wulf a wealth of treasure,
Each of them had a hundred thousand
in land and linked rings; nor at less price reckoned
mid-earth men such mighty deeds!
And to Eofor he gave his only daughter
in pledge of grace, the pride of his home.
"Such is the feud, the foeman's rage,
death-hate of men: so I deem it sure
that the Swedish folk will seek us home
for this fall of their friends, the fighting-Scylfings,
when once they learn that our warrior leader
lifeless lies, who land and hoard
ever defended from all his foes,
furthered his folk's weal, finished his course
a hardy hero. -- Now haste is best,
that we go to gaze on our Geatish lord,
and bear the bountiful breaker-of-rings
to the funeral pyre. No fragments merely
shall burn with the warrior. Wealth of jewels,
gold untold and gained in terror,
treasure at last with his life obtained,
all of that booty the brands shall take,
fire shall eat it. No earl must carry
memorial jewel. No maiden fair
shall wreathe her neck with noble ring:
nay, sad in spirit and shorn of her gold,
oft shall she pass o'er paths of exile
now our lord all laughter has laid aside,
all mirth and revel. Many a spear
morning-cold shall be clasped amain,
lifted aloft; nor shall lilt of harp
those warriors wake; but the wan-hued raven,
fain o'er the fallen, his feast shall praise
and boast to the eagle how bravely he ate
when he and the wolf were wasting the slain."
So he told his sorrowful tidings,
and little he lied, the loyal man
of word or of work. The warriors rose;
sad, they climbed to the Cliff-of-Eagles,
went, welling with tears, the wonder to view.
Found on the sand there, stretched at rest,
their lifeless lord, who had lavished rings
of old upon them. Ending-day
had dawned on the doughty-one; death had seized
in woful slaughter the Weders' king.
There saw they, besides, the strangest being,
loathsome, lying their leader near,
prone on the field. The fiery dragon,
fearful fiend, with flame was scorched.
Reckoned by feet, it was fifty measures
in length as it lay. Aloft erewhile
it had revelled by night, and anon come back,
seeking its den; now in death's sure clutch
it had come to the end of its earth-hall joys.
By it there stood the stoups and jars;
dishes lay there, and dear-decked swords
eaten with rust, as, on earth's lap resting,
a thousand winters they waited there.
For all that heritage huge, that gold
of bygone men, was bound by a spell,
so the treasure-hall could be touched by none
of human kind, -- save that Heaven's King,
God himself, might give whom he would,
Helper of Heroes, the hoard to open, --
even such a man as seemed to him meet.
A PERILOUS path, it proved, he trod
who heinously hid, that hall within,
wealth under wall! Its watcher had killed
one of a few, and the feud was avenged
in woful fashion. Wondrous seems it,
what manner a man of might and valor
oft ends his life, when the earl no longer
in mead-hall may live with loving friends.
So Beowulf, when that barrow's warden
he sought, and the struggle; himself knew not
in what wise he should wend from the world at last.
For princes potent, who placed the gold,
with a curse to doomsday covered it deep,
so that marked with sin the man should be,
hedged with horrors, in hell-bonds fast,
racked with plagues, who should rob their hoard.
Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of heaven,
ever the king had kept in view.
Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan:--
"At the mandate of one, oft warriors many
sorrow must suffer; and so must we.
The people's-shepherd showed not aught
of care for our counsel, king beloved!
That guardian of gold he should grapple not, urged we,
but let him lie where he long had been
in his earth-hall waiting the end of the world,
the hest of heaven. -- This hoard is ours
but grievously gotten; too grim the fate
which thither carried our king and lord.
I was within there, and all I viewed,
the chambered treasure, when chance allowed me
(and my path was made in no pleasant wise)
under the earth-wall. Eager, I seized
such heap from the hoard as hands could bear
and hurriedly carried it hither back
to my liege and lord. Alive was he still,
still wielding his wits. The wise old man
spake much in his sorrow, and sent you greetings
and bade that ye build, when he breathed no more,
on the place of his balefire a barrow high,
memorial mighty. Of men was he
worthiest warrior wide earth o'er
the while he had joy of his jewels and burg.
Let us set out in haste now, the second time
to see and search this store of treasure,
these wall-hid wonders, -- the way I show you, --
where, gathered near, ye may gaze your fill
at broad-gold and rings. Let the bier, soon made,
be all in order when out we come,
our king and captain to carry thither
-- man beloved -- where long he shall bide
safe in the shelter of sovran God."
Then the bairn of Weohstan bade command,
hardy chief, to heroes many
that owned their homesteads, hither to bring
firewood from far -- o'er the folk they ruled --
for the famed-one's funeral. " Fire shall devour
and wan flames feed on the fearless warrior
who oft stood stout in the iron-shower,
when, sped from the string, a storm of arrows
shot o'er the shield-wall: the shaft held firm,
featly feathered, followed the barb."
And now the sage young son of Weohstan
seven chose of the chieftain's thanes,
the best he found that band within,
and went with these warriors, one of eight,
under hostile roof. In hand one bore
a lighted torch and led the way.
No lots they cast for keeping the hoard
when once the warriors saw it in hall,
altogether without a guardian,
lying there lost. And little they mourned
when they had hastily haled it out,
dear-bought treasure! The dragon they cast,
the worm, o'er the wall for the wave to take,
and surges swallowed that shepherd of gems.
Then the woven gold on a wain was laden --
countless quite! -- and the king was borne,
hoary hero, to Hrones-Ness.
THEN fashioned for him the folk of Geats
firm on the earth a funeral-pile,
and hung it with helmets and harness of war
and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;
and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,
heroes mourning their master dear.
Then on the hill that hugest of balefires
the warriors wakened. Wood-smoke rose
black over blaze, and blent was the roar
of flame with weeping (the wind was still),
till the fire had broken the frame of bones,
hot at the heart. In heavy mood
their misery moaned they, their master's death.
Wailing her woe, the widow old,
her hair upbound, for Beowulf's death
sung in her sorrow, and said full oft
she dreaded the doleful days to come,
deaths enow, and doom of battle,
and shame. -- The smoke by the sky was devoured.
The folk of the Weders fashioned there
on the headland a barrow broad and high,
by ocean-farers far descried:
in ten days' time their toil had raised it,
the battle-brave's beacon. Round brands of the pyre
a wall they built, the worthiest ever
that wit could prompt in their wisest men.
They placed in the barrow that precious booty,
the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile,
hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, --
trusting the ground with treasure of earls,
gold in the earth, where ever it lies
useless to men as of yore it was.
Then about that barrow the battle-keen rode,
atheling-born, a band of twelve,
lament to make, to mourn their king,
chant their dirge, and their chieftain honor.
They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess
worthily witnessed: and well it is
that men their master-friend mightily laud,
heartily love, when hence he goes
from life in the body forlorn away.
Thus made their mourning the men of Geatland,
for their hero's passing his hearth-companions:
quoth that of all the kings of earth,
of men he was mildest and most beloved,
to his kin the kindest, keenest for praise."
Ryan smiles and takes a deep breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
Ryan: "And alas, the great work is finished."
"This will conclude our time together. I hope that Misters Daymon and Benjamin enjoyed this moment of culture as much as I have, and I do look forward to meeting both fine chaps in Pittsburgh."
"Good day then."
The classical music gets louder as Ryan looks back down into his book and we FADE OUT....
Adam_Benjamin
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 313
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 45
(Fade into “Yours Truly” Adam Benjamin sitting on a chair in his locker room. Adam is clearing his thoughts and preparing for his match, behind him his wrestling tights, elbow pads, and boots are seen. Adam looking towards the camera begins to speak)
Benjamin: Thinking back over the last year I can think of several times were I had to look myself in the mirror and question something. And much like in the past I looked today and seen the answer I was looking for. Tonight when I step into the ring with RD and Dan Ryan I am not wrestling for anyone but myself. I train hard daily, I bust my ass in the ring night in and night out, I put my life into this very sport for moments like this. Tonight when I am wrestling it is another chance to perfect my abilities in the square circle and at the same time move one step closer to the top of the ladder. Over the course of this past week I have taken shots at RD and listen closely to his rebuttals. To each there own we have each laid out claim to victory by using our voices, using strong examples and harsh attacks at one another’s respective careers. But in turn tonight when I lace my final boot up I will be tying my words into action. But as far as my opponent goes I am not sure if he will ever be able to step away from the microphone and back up all his views. And it is with that doubt that I am almost afraid for RD, really I am. For you see if RD beats me this week, I will with out a doubt go on to win the IC title in weeks to come. However if RD loses I fear this might be the last straw for him. I just cannot see him being able to come back next week regardless of what his crutch of a wife tells him, with a straight face, I just can’t see it.
(Adam shakes his head)
Benjamin: All week I have talked to you about this match RD and you have come up with a few things to highlight. Well I guess in all fairness I will answer your points in this promo. First off as far as Yours Truly being English I have not said anything about my country being better at all this week. The only comment about England was a response to a shot you took, so let’s not get into a country war. As far as all your fans go, well that is great for you. I am sorry for the fans that they buy into your lies about winning. You fill their heads with falsehoods and at the same time puff out your chest and buy into your own lies. You talk about proving it to them, to me, to whoever, that is the difference I do not need to prove anything to anyone, I do this for myself. As far are our past match goes you can look at the tapes over and over the end result in me winning, thus by god I can and will beat you again. I am not sure how many times I need to tell you that. But soon very soon I am simply going to lay you out and I am going to make sure this ending will be clean, and done with a knock out effect.
(Adam laughs, as he looks downward to his knee)
Benjamin: You have taken shots at me for being proud of my MCW career. You have called my title a joke due to the fed closing. You have even gone out and mentioned my career in GXW, and yeah my record there is not breathtaking. However wrestling is a learning experience and in GXW I am slowly making strides in my career and in the ranks. I mean you are taking shots at me about stuff that matters nothing in our match…
(Adam gets up and grabs the camera)
Benjamin: Everything you have said is a huge cover up. You are masking you fears of losing with silly facts about Yours Truly. Yeah I am English, yeah I am proud of my title run in MCW, and of course I consider myself better than you because I beat you one on one! What else can you say about me except I am inexperienced? Man that is a shot I do not think I can get back up from! At last I am ok and ready to make my way to the ring tonight and defeat you once again and send you to the back so that you can tell another lie or Faber gate your career.
(Adam sits back down)
Benjamin: The bottom line is that Adam Benjamin simply does not know how to fail. I am on a set course to the top and tonight is simple my first step in my quest to become the first ever EPW champion. RD bring all your hopes, your dreams, and your false desires, and make yourself a legend of my name if you can. But if you fail own it and do not lie to all the fans, and the boys in the back about next time. I will see you in the ring RD were the talking stops and the moment arrives….
(Fade to black)
Benjamin: Thinking back over the last year I can think of several times were I had to look myself in the mirror and question something. And much like in the past I looked today and seen the answer I was looking for. Tonight when I step into the ring with RD and Dan Ryan I am not wrestling for anyone but myself. I train hard daily, I bust my ass in the ring night in and night out, I put my life into this very sport for moments like this. Tonight when I am wrestling it is another chance to perfect my abilities in the square circle and at the same time move one step closer to the top of the ladder. Over the course of this past week I have taken shots at RD and listen closely to his rebuttals. To each there own we have each laid out claim to victory by using our voices, using strong examples and harsh attacks at one another’s respective careers. But in turn tonight when I lace my final boot up I will be tying my words into action. But as far as my opponent goes I am not sure if he will ever be able to step away from the microphone and back up all his views. And it is with that doubt that I am almost afraid for RD, really I am. For you see if RD beats me this week, I will with out a doubt go on to win the IC title in weeks to come. However if RD loses I fear this might be the last straw for him. I just cannot see him being able to come back next week regardless of what his crutch of a wife tells him, with a straight face, I just can’t see it.
(Adam shakes his head)
Benjamin: All week I have talked to you about this match RD and you have come up with a few things to highlight. Well I guess in all fairness I will answer your points in this promo. First off as far as Yours Truly being English I have not said anything about my country being better at all this week. The only comment about England was a response to a shot you took, so let’s not get into a country war. As far as all your fans go, well that is great for you. I am sorry for the fans that they buy into your lies about winning. You fill their heads with falsehoods and at the same time puff out your chest and buy into your own lies. You talk about proving it to them, to me, to whoever, that is the difference I do not need to prove anything to anyone, I do this for myself. As far are our past match goes you can look at the tapes over and over the end result in me winning, thus by god I can and will beat you again. I am not sure how many times I need to tell you that. But soon very soon I am simply going to lay you out and I am going to make sure this ending will be clean, and done with a knock out effect.
(Adam laughs, as he looks downward to his knee)
Benjamin: You have taken shots at me for being proud of my MCW career. You have called my title a joke due to the fed closing. You have even gone out and mentioned my career in GXW, and yeah my record there is not breathtaking. However wrestling is a learning experience and in GXW I am slowly making strides in my career and in the ranks. I mean you are taking shots at me about stuff that matters nothing in our match…
(Adam gets up and grabs the camera)
Benjamin: Everything you have said is a huge cover up. You are masking you fears of losing with silly facts about Yours Truly. Yeah I am English, yeah I am proud of my title run in MCW, and of course I consider myself better than you because I beat you one on one! What else can you say about me except I am inexperienced? Man that is a shot I do not think I can get back up from! At last I am ok and ready to make my way to the ring tonight and defeat you once again and send you to the back so that you can tell another lie or Faber gate your career.
(Adam sits back down)
Benjamin: The bottom line is that Adam Benjamin simply does not know how to fail. I am on a set course to the top and tonight is simple my first step in my quest to become the first ever EPW champion. RD bring all your hopes, your dreams, and your false desires, and make yourself a legend of my name if you can. But if you fail own it and do not lie to all the fans, and the boys in the back about next time. I will see you in the ring RD were the talking stops and the moment arrives….
(Fade to black)
Last edited:
Steve
the EX-QUEEN of FW~!
OORP
Good grief.
I've seen cards, shorter than this thread.
You people are insane
-Stephen
Good grief.
I've seen cards, shorter than this thread.
You people are insane
-Stephen