And death after sinning: but clear was it shown now,

  Wide wotted of men, that e’en yet was a wreaker

  Living after the loathly, a long while of time

  After the battle-care, Grendel’s own mother;

  The woman, the monster-wife, minded her woe,

  She who needs must in horror of waters be wonning, 1260

  The streams all a-cold, sithence Cain was become

  For an edge-bane forsooth to his very own brother,

  The own son of his father. Forth bann’d then he fared,

  All marked by murder, from man’s joy to flee,

  And dwelt in the waste-land. Thence woke there a many

  Ghosts shapen of old time, of whom one was Grendel,

  The fierce wolf, the hateful, who found him at Hart

  A man there a-watching, abiding the war-tide;

  Where to him the fell ogre to hand-grips befell;

  Howe’er he him minded of the strength of his might, 1270

  The great gift set fast in him given of God,

  And trowed in grace by the All-wielder given,

  His fostering, his staying; so the fiend he o’ercame

  And bow’d down the Hell’s ghost, that all humble he wended

  Fordone of all mirth death’s house to go look on,

  That fiend of all mankind. But yet was his mother,

  The greedy, the glum-moody, fain to be going

  A sorrowful journey her son’s death to wreak.

  So came she to Hart whereas now the Ring-Danes

  Were sleeping adown the hall; soon there befell 1280

  Change of days to the earl-folk, when in she came thrusting,

  Grendel’s mother: and soothly was minish’d the terror

  By even so much as the craft-work of maidens,

  The war-terror of wife, is beside the man weapon’d,

  When the sword all hard bounden, by hammers to-beaten,

  The sword all sweat-stain’d, through the swine o’er the war-helm

  With edges full doughty down rightly sheareth.

  But therewith in the hall was tugg’d out the hard edge,

  The sword o’er the settles, and wide shields a many

  Heaved fast in the hand: no one the helm heeded, 1290

  Nor the byrny wide-wrought, when the wild fear fell on them.

  In haste was she then, and out would she thenceforth

  For the saving her life, whenas she should be found there.

  But one of the athelings she speedily handled

  And caught up full fast, and fenward so fared.

  But he was unto Hrothgar the liefest of heroes

  Of the sort of the fellows; betwixt the two sea-floods

  A mighty shield-warrior, whom she at rest brake up,

  A war-wight well famed. There Beowulf was not;

  Another house soothly had erewhile been dighted 1300

  After gift of that treasure to that great one of Geats.

  Uprose cry then in Hart, all ‘mid gore had she taken

  The hand, the well-known, and now care wrought anew

  In the wicks was arisen. Naught well was the bargain

  That on both halves they needs must be buying that tide

  With the life-days of friends. Then the lord king, the wise,

  The hoary of war-folk, was harmed of mood

  When his elder of thanes and he now unliving,

  The dearest of all, he knew to be dead.

  To the bower full swiftly was Beowulf brought now, 1310

  The man victory-dower’d; together with day-dawn

  Went he, one of the earls, that champion beworthy’d,

  Himself with his fellows, where the wise was abiding

  To wot if the All-wielder ever will to him

  After the tale of woe happy change work.

  Then went down the floor he the war-worthy

  With the host of his hand, while high dinn’d the hall-wood,

  Till he there the wise one with words had well greeted,

  The lord of the Ingwines, and ask’d had the night been.

  Since sore he was summon’d, a night of sweet easement. 1320

  XXI. HROTHGAR LAMENTS THE SLAYING OF AESCHERE, AND TELLS OF GRENDEL’S MOTHER AND HER DEN.

  Spake out then Hrothgar the helm of the Scyldings:

  Ask no more after bliss; for new-made now is sorrow

  For the folk of the Danes; for Aeschere is dead,

  He who was Yrmenlaf’s elder of brethren,

  My wise man of runes, my bearer of redes,

  Mine own shoulder-fellow, when we in the war-tide

  Warded our heads and the host on the host fell,

  And the boars were a-crashing; e’en such should an earl be,

  An atheling exceeding good, e’en as was Aeschere.

  Now in Hart hath befallen for a hand-bane unto him 1330

  A slaughter-ghost wandering; naught wot I whither

  The fell one, the carrion-proud, far’d hath her back-fare,

  By her fill made all famous. That feud hath she wreaked

  Wherein yesternight gone by Grendel thou quelledst

  Through thy hardihood fierce with grips hard enow.

  For that he over-long the lief people of me

  Made to wane and undid. In the war then he cringed,

  Being forfeit of life. But now came another,

  An ill-scather mighty, her son to awreak;

  And further hath she now the feud set on foot, 1340

  As may well be deemed of many a thane,

  Who after the wealth-giver weepeth in mind,

  A hard bale of heart. Now the hand lieth low

  Which well-nigh for every joy once did avail you.

  The dwellers in land here, my people indeed,

  The wise-of-rede hall-folk, have I heard say e’en this:

  That they have set eyes on two such-like erewhile,

  Two mickle mark-striders the moorland a-holding,

  Ghosts come from elsewhere, but of them one there was,

  As full certainly might they then know it to be, 1350

  In the likeness of woman; and the other shap’d loathly

  All after man’s image trod the tracks of the exile,

  Save that more was he shapen than any man other;

  And in days gone away now they named him Grendel,

  The dwellers in fold; they wot not if a father

  Unto him was born ever in the days of erewhile

  Of dark ghosts. They dwell in a dim hidden land,

  The wolf-bents they bide in, on the nesses the windy,

  The perilous fen-paths where the stream of the fell-side

  Midst the mists of the nesses wends netherward ever, 1360

  The flood under earth. Naught far away hence,

  But a mile-mark forsooth, there standeth the mere,

  And over it ever hang groves all berimed,

  The wood fast by the roots over-helmeth the water.

  But each night may one a dread wonder there see,

  A fire in the flood. But none liveth so wise

  Of the bairns of mankind, that the bottom may know.

  Although the heath-stepper beswinked by hounds,

  The hart strong of horns, that holt-wood should seek to

  Driven fleeing from far, he shall sooner leave life, 1370

  Leave life-breath on the bank, or ever will he

  Therein hide his head. No hallow’d stead is it:

  Thence the blending of water-waves ever upriseth

  Wan up to the welkin, whenso the wind stirreth

  Weather-storms loathly, until the lift darkens

  And weepeth the heavens. Now along the rede wendeth

  Of thee again only. Of that earth yet thou know’st not,

  The fearful of steads, wherein thou mayst find

  That much-sinning wight; seek then if thou dare,

  And thee for that feud will I guerdon with fee, 1380

  The treasures of old time, as erst did I do,

  With the gold all-bewounden, if away thence thou get thee.

  XXII. THEY FOLLOW GRENDEL’S DAM TO HER LAIR.

  Spake out then Beowulf the Ecgtheow’s bairn:

  O wise of men, mourn not; for to each man ’tis better

  That his friend he awreak than weep overmuch.

  Lo! each of us soothly abideth the ending

  Of the life of the world. Then let him work who work may

  High deeds ere the death: to the doughty of war-lads

  When he is unliving shall it best be hereafter.

  Rise up, warder of kingdom! and swiftly now wend we 1390

  The Grendel Kinswoman’s late goings to look on;

  And this I behote thee, that to holm shall she flee not,

  Nor into earth’s fathom, nor into the fell-holt,

  Nor the grounds of the ocean, go whereas she will go.

  For this one of days patience dree thou a while then

  Of each one of thy woes, as I ween it of thee.

  Then leapt up the old man, and lightly gave God thank,

  That mighty of Lords, for the word which the man spake.

  And for Hrothgar straightway then was bitted a horse,

  A wave-maned steed: and the wise of the princes 1400

  Went stately his ways; and stepp’d out the man-troop,

  The linden-board bearers. Now lightly the tracks were

  All through the woodland ways wide to be seen there,

  Her goings o’er ground; she had gotten her forthright

  Over the mirk-moor: bore she of kindred thanes

  The best that there was, all bare of his soul,

  Of them that with Hrothgar heeded the home.

  Overwent then that bairn of the athelings

  Steep bents of the stones, and stridings full narrow,

  Strait paths nothing pass’d over, ways all uncouth, 1410

  Sheer nesses to wit, many houses of nicors.

  He one of the few was going before

  Of the wise of the men the meadow to look on,

  Until suddenly there the trees of the mountains

  Over the hoar-stone found he a-leaning,

  A wood without gladness: the water stood under

  Dreary and troubled. Unto all the Danes was it,

  To the friends of the Scyldings, most grievous in mood

  To many of thanes such a thing to be tholing,

  Sore evil to each one of earls, for of Aeschere 1420

  The head did they find e’en there on the holm-cliff;

  The flood with gore welled (the folk looking on it),

  With hot blood. But whiles then the horn fell to singing

  A song of war eager. There sat down the band;

  They saw down the water a many of worm-kind,

  Sea-drakes seldom seen a-kenning the sound;

  Likewise on the ness-bents nicors a-lying,

  Who oft on the undern-tide wont are to hold them

  A course full of sorrow all over the sail-road.

  Now the worms and the wild-deer away did they speed 1430

  Bitter and wrath-swollen all as they heard it,

  The war-horn a-wailing: but one the Geats’ warden

  With his bow of the shafts from his life-days there sunder’d,

  From his strife of the waves; so that stood in his life-parts

  The hard arrow of war; and he in the holm was

  The slower in swimming as death away swept him.

  So swiftly in sea-waves with boar-spears forsooth

  Sharp-hook’d and hard-press’d was he thereupon,

  Set on with fierce battle, and on to the ness tugg’d,

  The wondrous wave-bearer; and men were beholding 1440

  The grisly guest, Beowulf therewith he gear’d him

  With weed of the earls: nowise of life reck’d he:

  Needs must his war-byrny, braided by hands,

  Wide, many-colour’d by cunning, the sound seek,

  E’en that which his bone-coffer knew how to ward,

  So that the war-grip his heart ne’er a while,

  The foe-snatch of the wrathful his life ne’er should scathe;

  Therewith the white war-helm warded his head,

  E’en that which should mingle with ground of the mere,

  And seek the sound-welter, with treasure beworthy’d, 1450

  All girt with the lordly chains, as in days gone by

  The weapon-smith wrought it most wondrously done,

  Beset with the swine-shapes, so that sithence

  The brand or the battle-blades never might bite it.

  Nor forsooth was that littlest of all of his mainstays,

  Which to him in his need lent the spokesman of Hrothgar,

  E’en the battle-sword hafted that had to name Hrunting,

  That in fore days was one of the treasures of old,

  The edges of iron with the poison twigs o’er-stain’d,

  With battle-sweat harden’d; in the brunt never fail’d he 1460

  Any one of the warriors whose hand wound about him,

  Who in grisly wayfarings durst ever to wend him

  To the folk-stead of foemen. Not the first of times was it

  That battle-work doughty it had to be doing.

  Forsooth naught remember’d that son there of Ecglaf,

  The crafty in mighty deeds, what ere he quoth

  All drunken with wine, when the weapon he lent

  To a doughtier sword-wolf: himself naught he durst it

  Under war of the waves there his life to adventure

  And warrior-ship work. So forwent he the glory, 1470

  The fair fame of valour. Naught far’d so the other

  Syth he to the war-tide had gear’d him to wend.

  XXIII. BEOWULF REACHETH THE MERE-BOTTOM IN A DAY’S WHILE, AND CONTENDS WITH GRENDEL’S DAM.

  Out then spake Beowulf, Ecgtheow’s bairn:

  Forsooth be thou mindful, O great son of Healfdene,

  O praise of the princes, now way-fain am I,

  O gold-friend of men, what we twain spake aforetime:

  If to me for thy need it might so befall

  That I cease from my life-days, thou shouldest be ever

  To me, forth away wended, in the stead of a father.

  Do thou then bear in hand these thanes of my kindred, 1480

  My hand-fellows, if so be battle shall have me;

  Those same treasures withal, which thou gavest me erst,

  O Hrothgar the lief, unto Hygelac send thou;

  By that gold then shall wot the lord of the Geat-folk,

  Shall Hrethel’s son see, when he stares on the treasure,

  That I in fair man-deeds a good one have found me,

  A ring-giver; while I might, joy made I thereof.

  And let thou then Unferth the ancient loom have,

  The wave-sword adorned, that man kenned widely,

  The blade of hard edges; for I now with Hrunting 1490

  Will work me the glory, or else shall death get me.

  So after these words the Weder-Geats’ chieftain

  With might of heart hasten’d; nor for answer then would he

  Aught tarry; the sea-welter straightway took hold on

  The warrior of men: wore the while of a daytide

  Or ever the ground-plain might he set eyes on.

  Soon did she find, she who the flood-ring

  Sword-ravening had held for an hundred of seasons,

  Greedy and grim, that there one man of grooms

  The abode of the alien-wights sought from above; 1500

  Then toward him she grasp’d and gat hold on the warrior

  With fell clutch, but no sooner she scathed withinward

  The hale body; rings from without-ward it warded,

  That she could in no wise the war-skin clutch through,

  The fast locked limb-sark, with fingers all loathly.

  So bare then that sea-wolf when she came unto bottom

  The king of the rings to the court-hall adown

  In such wise that he might not, though hard-moody was he,

  Be wielding of weapons. But a many of wonders

  In sea-swimming swink’d him, and many a sea-deer 1510

  With his war-tusks was breaking his sark of the battle;

  The fell wights him follow’d. ’Twas then the earl found it

  That in foe-hall there was he, I wot not of which,

  Where never the water might scathe him a whit,

  Nor because of the roof-hall might reach to him there

  The fear-grip of the flood. Now fire-light he saw,

  The bleak beam forsooth all brightly a-shining.

  Then the good one, he saw the wolf of the ground,

  The mere-wife the mighty, and main onset made he

  With his battle-bill; never his hand withheld sword-swing 1520

  So that there on her head sang the ring-sword forsooth

  The song of war greedy. But then found the guest

  That the beam of the battle would bite not therewith,

  Or scathe life at all, but there failed the edge

  The king in his need. It had ere thol’d a many

  Of meetings of hand; oft it sheared the helm,

  The host-rail of the fey one; and then was the first time

  For that treasure dear lov’d that its might lay a-low.

  But therewithal steadfast, naught sluggish of valour,

  All mindful of high deeds was Hygelac’s kinsman. 1530

  Cast then the wounden blade bound with the gem-stones

  The warrior all angry, that it lay on the earth there,

  Stiff-wrought and steel-edged. In strength now he trusted,

  The hard hand-grip of might and main; so shall a man do

  When he in the war-tide yet looketh to winning

  The praise that is longsome, nor aught for life careth.

  Then fast by the shoulder, of the feud nothing recking,

  The lord of the War-Geats clutch’d Grendel’s mother,

  Cast down the battle-hard, bollen with anger,

  That foe of the life, till she bow’d to the floor; 1540

  But swiftly to him gave she back the hand-guerdon

  With hand-graspings grim, and griped against him;

  Then mood-weary stumbled the strongest of warriors,

  The foot-kemp, until that adown there he fell.

  Then she sat on the hall-guest and tugg’d out her sax,

  The broad and brown-edged, to wreak her her son,

  Her offspring her own. But lay yet on his shoulder

  The breast-net well braided, the berg of his life,

 

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