| |
| 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 | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| 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 | 15 |
| 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, | 20 |
| 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, | 25 |
| 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 | 30 |
| 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-forgéd, the falchion hard, | 35 |
| 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, 1 and shields a-many | |
| firm held in hand: nor helmet minded | 40 |
| 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 the seized | |
| fast and firm, as she fled to the moor. | 45 |
| 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, | 50 |
| 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 | 55 |
| 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, | 60 |
| 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. | 65 |
| Strode o’er floor the famed-in-strife, | |
| with his hand-companions,—the hall resounded,— | |
| wishing to greet the wise old king, | |
| Ingwine’s lord; he asked if the night | |
| had passed in peace to the prince’s mind. | 70 |
