“Deprivation” is signaled by lande bereafod, wuldre benemed, duguðum bedeled, and winemægum bidroren. “State of mind” is indicated by hean and earm, and earmcearig, and “movement in or into exile” is expressed by wunode wrœclastum, wadan wræclastas, and winter wunade ǁ wrœccan lastum. In all these cases in both Magoun and Greenfield we can note a more or less stable core of formulas adapted to context. I have found such clusters of formulas or lines in oral traditional lyric poetry as well as in oral traditional narrative {141|142} poetry, as discussed in previous chapters. Perhaps these smaller groupings, or clusters, are the next highest structural unit above the formula. We must investigate further their relationship to the theme; for it may be, indeed, that these smaller units are themselves the themes we are seeking in Anglo-Saxon.

There is no need to follow in further detail Greenfield’s excellent article. It is clear, I hope, from these examples that, in spite of such categories as “status” or “deprivation,” one is dealing with obvious cases of verbal repetition. In short, in “the theme of the beasts of battle,” and “the theme of exile” the repeated passages do exhibit a certain degree of verbal correspondence, be they from the same poem or not. These seem to be recognizable as themes of the oral traditional type, whether they are in an oral or a written text. Moreover, they are themes known to and used by several authors, a fact that strengthens their claim to be traditional.

In the next development in the study of the “theme” in Anglo-Saxon poetry, verbal correspondence practically disappears, and what remains is a cluster of repeated elements of a more general than specific sort. This phenomenon was present actually in Greenfield’s theme of exile, inasmuch as such categories as “status,” “deprivation,” or “state of mind” are general rather than specific. Nevertheless, as we saw, he found groups of formulas used regularly to express the constituent items of the theme.

Crowne lists two passages in Beowulf as examples of the theme of “the hero on the beach” which seem to me to be only sections of a larger theme, namely, lines 1880b-99 and 1963-66. In reality, I believe, the full theme—or perhaps more properly, the full context of the theme of a journey that {142|143} includes departure and arrival—is interrupted by a digression. The full theme began with departure at line 1888, which ended only at line 1904, to be followed by a description of the journey, lines 1905-13, and of the arrival (1914-31a), which is interrupted by a digression about a cruel queen which extends from line 1931b to line 1962, at which point the account of arrival is continued. It would be, therefore, a mistake to treat lines 1914-24 and lines 1963-66 as separate examples of the theme of “the hero on the beach”; together, actually, they form the arrival section of the theme of a journey.

This full theme in Beowulf 1888-1966, the theme of a journey, from departure to arrival, should be compared with the same theme in Beowulf 208-307a. This earlier example of the theme of a journey is also lengthened, not by a digression but by the inclusion in it of the scene of the encounter of Beowulf and his companions with the coast guard and their ritual exchange of words.

The departure of Beowulf and his companions from Denmark runs as follows in lines 1880b-1904:

This second passage is about three times the length of the first, and, though there are some elements in common, there are also some specific to each. For example, lines 1884-87, telling how Hrothgar’s gifts were admired as the men marched, and commenting on him as a king, are applicable only to the circumstances at that particular moment in the poem. This is true also of the lines concerning the coast guard in this passage: in lines 1890b-95, the coast guard spots the returning Geats, rides to meet them, and, in indirect discourse, bids them welcome again for their continuing voyage back to Geatland; and in lines 1900-1903a, Beowulf presents the coast guard with a sword, and the poet comments on how proudly he boasted of it on the mead-benches. These three passages specific to the circumstances of this particular departure occupy twelve of the twenty-four and a half lines. There is no coast guard in the scene of departure of Beowulf and his companions from southern Sweden, although he does appear, of course, at the time of their arrival in Denmark. In the Beowulf context he seems to belong to arrivals—and to departures on the way back after an initial arrival. One might add the first lines of the passage to those already labeled specific to the particular occurrence:

These lines, however, serve the same purpose as the opening lines of the first departure, namely, to move the hero to the shore and ship:

One might consider, perhaps with greater reason, that lines 1898b-99 could also be specific to this occurrence:

The opening lines of the first departure set in a distinctive way a pattern of key words and sounds which recurs in the passage. The line “sundwudu sohte; ǁ secg wisade,” with an alliteration perhaps suggested by the previous hemistich, “XVna sum,” is picked up a little later in line 213, “sun wið sande; ǁ secgas bæron,” and the b of bæron seems to suggest the alliterative pattern for the following line, “on bearm nacan ǁ beorhte frætwe.”

Something similar may be observed in the second departure, where, for example, the sœgenga of sœgenga bad of line 1882b is picked up by sægeap naca in line 1896b, which in turn leads to gewat him on naca in line 1903b. And the hringedstefna of line 1897b echoes hringnet bœron in line 1889b.

One should observe in passing the abundance of responsions. Note, for example, feoroðhengestas ‘a throng of men’ in line 226b and wæghengestas ‘wavehorses, ships’ in line 236; and stæð ‘seashore’ and gearwe stodon ‘they stood ready’ in line 227, which are picked up in line 232a in on stæðe stodon ‘they stood on the shore.’ Such responsions indicate that the poet thought of the passage as a unit bound by internal tensions.

It is worthwhile to continue further with the larger theme of the journey, with its sections on departure, travel, and arrival. We must return, therefore, to the departure section of the two journey themes in Beowulf with which we began. The departure from southern Sweden is the simpler of the two. We saw that it differed from the departure from Denmark in respect to the ship. In the latter, the ship was at anchor awaiting the return of the Geats from their adventures at Hrothgar’s court. In the former, the ship was in the water under the cliff (lines 210b-11a):

The next action is embarkation of men and equipment. In the first departure this is accomplished in lines 211b-15a: {149|150}

This almost stark description, broken only by the paratactic guðsearo geatolic, which is needed to alliterate with and to introduce guman ut scufon ‘the men shoved off’, is truly ornamented by the realistic detail of the sea surging against the beach as the men entered the boat.

The departure from Denmark, leaving aside the specific elements I enumerated earlier, especially those dealing with the coast guard, tells, as we have seen, of Beowulf proceeding to the shore after leaving Hrothgar and mentions the boat waiting for its captain and riding at anchor (lines 1882b-83):

After commenting on Hrothgar’s gifts and on the man himself, the poet continues (lines 1888-90a):

After five and a half lines devoted to the coast guard, the action continues with the loading of the ship (lines 1896-99):

There is not much verbal correspondence between these parts of the departure section, nor indeed between the departure sections themselves of our two examples of the journey theme in Beowulf. This is not very surprising, of course, because no treasure was loaded on the ship in southern Sweden, only armor, which the men are wearing in the second departure; and there the emphasis, as was to be expected, is on the treasure given Beowulf by Hrothgar. Moreover, the coast guard plays a large role in the second departure but is not present in the first. We did discover that a subtheme of the second departure, that of the ship riding at anchor, was to be found in arrival scenes as well. Let us turn now, then, to the arrival sections of the journey theme. The arrival of Beowulf and his companions in Denmark is notable for their encounter with the coast guard, who appears as soon as they have secured their ship. Here is their landing (lines 224b-28):

The coast guard is now introduced and the famous interchange between him and Beowulf, ending with the march to Heorot, ensues. This elaborate coast guard episode contrasts with the arrival home of Beowulf and his men. They too are met by a coast guard (lines 1912b-19):

There is some verbal correspondence between the arrivals up to this point, in spite of the differences of the coast guards. The word hraþe ‘quickly’ appears in both passages, but applied to different persons. Most noticeable is the securing of the ship. It is done in one hemistich in the first paragraph—sæwudu sældon—and in a line and a half in the second: “sælde to sande ǁ sidfæþme scip / oncerbendum fæst.” Only the verb (sælde / sældon ‘fastened’) is common to both passages. I have discussed the subtheme of the ship at anchor above; now the seafarers set out for inland.

It is on this point that Crowne’s work focuses most intensely, eventually leading far away from beaches and even from human actors, as when he equates the sea beasts at banquet in the Breca episode with the hero’s companions, who would otherwise be missing from the scene. But in the early part of his article he treats themes, or subthemes, in the sense in which I also understand them, namely, as repeated passages with some verbal correspondence.

For example, in some of the instances given by Crowne there is actually a fair degree of verbal correspondence. The simplest form of “the hero on the beach” is found when Beowulf and his men arrive in southern Sweden on their return from Denmark in lines 1963-66. This is the second part of the arrival section of the second journey theme, as discussed above.

Moreover, sand and sœ alliterate in a single line in both passages: “sylf æfter sande ǁ sæwong tredan” and “ofer sandhleoðu ǁ to sæs faruðe.” When the two concepts of sand and sea are repeated in Andreas 238, the alliteration, governed now by gangan, brings forth two other words for sand and sea: “gangan on greote. ǁ Garsecg hlynede.”

Strangely enough, there is less correspondence between Beowulf 301-7, the second part of the arrival section of the first journey theme, and Beowulf 1963-66, given above, the second part of the arrival section of the second journey theme; Beowulf 301 begins with gewiton him þa feran; the words sand, sæ, waroðe, and woroldcandel, or equivalents, do not appear. But this passage does have correspondences with Andreas 235-37, as cited above. Here are lines 301-7a of Beowulf.

Sidfœþmed scip ‘spacious ship’ corresponds to widfœðme scip ‘wide ship’ in Andreas. There are other correspondences, too. For example,

The fierce-hearted boar held guard over the warlike men. The warriors hastened; reminds one of the following from Andreas:

It would seem that the kenning [metaphorical compound word] ferhwearde ‘life-protector’ governs the alliteration of the first hemistich, “fah ond fyrheard.” The same is probably true also in the case of lidweardas ‘ship-protector’, which would govern the alliteration of ofer lagoflodas in the first hemistich. The following lines in both passages are governed by alliteration around the word for man: in Beowulf the word is guman, and it calls forth “guþmod grimmon”; in Andreas it is þegnas, which calls forth “þrymlice þry”—although in this instance, it might well be that the specialized þry ‘three’ is the governing word, in which case it is þry that calls forth both þrymlice ‘splendid’ and þegnas.

One of the reasons there is little verbal correspondence in some of the examples given is that in a few cases the elements are more general, let us say, than the raven, the eagle, and the wolf in the theme of “the beasts of battle.” Another reason comes from the fact that as Crowne became more engrossed in the theme of “the hero on the beach,” he moved further and further away from its literal elements. Although he kept the place as a beach, eventually even it gave way to include a doorway, or any liminal situation. Sometimes the hero was mentioned, sometimes not, and the companions became ever more variable. Finally the two merged into “the comitatus relationship,” which could be manifested in innumerable ways.

Crowne finally rephrased the theme as containing “(1) a beach, (2) the comitatus relationship, (3) a bright light, and (4) a voyage.” He has eliminated the hero and his companions in favor of their relationship to one another. The place was somewhat more stable verbally for a while longer with {155|156} Crowne, as was the voyage. It may be that such a pattern exists, but I wonder if we should call it a “theme,” thus confusing it with passages that are held together as discernible verbal units having a cohesive sense of textuality. The latter is another way of saying repeated passages with a certain degree of verbal correspondence, which are what I call themes. In the foregoing I have demonstrated that such passages do occur, but they are not long.

An illustration of variation within a cohesive structure is provided by two {157|158} versions of the theme of an overnight visit made by Meho and Osman in Avdo Međedović’s epic “The Wedding of Smailagić Meho.” For a discussion of the two versions of this theme, see Chapter 9. We have similar “themes” in Anglo-Saxon, although of a somewhat different nature, to be sure. We have seen examples in Magoun’s theme of “the beasts of battle,” and in “the boat at anchor,” which I isolated earlier in this chapter, as well as the theme of “the world’s candle,” the last two from Crowne’s “the hero on the beach.” They have a degree of verbal correspondence and a sense of textuality and are not abstractions. They are larger than formulas, although made up of formulas. In the references to arms and armor—the most common “alternative” to “the world’s candle” in the “flashing light” category—one must allow for the use of several words for the same object, as, for example, words for “sword,” such as sweord, secg, bill, and mece. A sword is often found associated with other weapons or pieces of armor. Let us see whether we have any cohesive “more or less stable core” for the expression of this group of related ideas.

Two words for specific weapons or specific pieces of armor are to be seen in this passage, bilia ecgum ‘with the edges of the sword’; ecg is also used for “weapon” or “sword.” The passage in Christ(lines 1634-37a) reads:

A word to “carry” appears in all three passages, bæron, genamon, and berað; and blœd ‘glory’ is found in the last two. Two “sword” words occur in the Daniel passage, bill and ecg.

In Beowulf when the Geats land in Denmark, a few lines after our beginning passage with frætwe and guðsearo, their armor is again referred to in two successive sections of text (lines 224b-28 and 229-32a):

Here we have corslets (syrcan) and shields (randas), each with an appositive of general significance, guðgewædo ‘war-dress’ and fyrdsearu ‘accoutrements’, needed for making lines.

Syrcan also occurs in line 1111 in the Finn episode, lines 1108b-13a:

“Shield,” in Herescyldingas (note Scildinga in line 229b above); corslet, syrce; and “helmet,” metaphorically in swyn correspond to part of the combination in lines 333-36a. Only the spears are missing; and there is no word for “bringing,” inasmuch as the corpses are inert on the ground or pyre.

Guðgewœdo in line 227a above, in apposition with syrcan, is also often found in Beowulf . It is used in five other lines, the first two of which (lines 2617 and 2623) lead us to a rich lode of weapons and armor beginning in line {160|161} 2609 and extending through line 2625a. In this passage, it will be noted, fyrdsearo also appears, the only other time it is found. These two passages, lines 224b-32a and 2609-25a, have many verbal correspondences. Here are lines 2609-25a, which cover part of the account of Wiglaf’s background:

Here are two words for “shield,” rond and linde; three words for “sword” (one in two spellings), swyrd, mece, sweord, and bill; one word for “helmet,” helm; and one word for “corslet,” byrnan, used twice.

We are clearly defining a “theme,” with sufficient verbal and ideational correspondence to assure a sense of textuality. The verbal core, or cluster of lexical units, with such variations of alliteration and metrics as are needed to make lines, is adapted to the ideas and action of the narrative. {161|162}