| |
| 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, | 5 |
| 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! | 10 |
| To the house the warrior walked apace, | |
| parted from peace; 1 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, | 15 |
| 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, | 20 |
| 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 | 25 |
| 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! | 30 |
| 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, | 35 |
| 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. | 40 |
| 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! | 45 |
| 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, | 50 |
| 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 | 55 |
| 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 | 60 |
| 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 | 65 |
| 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 | 70 |
| 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, | 75 |
| 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 | 80 |
| in that same day of this our life. | |
