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The good man, Beowulf the Geat, spoke a few boasting words before he lay down: “I consider myself no poorer in strength and battle-deeds than Grendel does himself; and so I will not kill him with a sword, 680 put an end to his life, though I easily might; he knows no arts of war, no way to strike back, hack at my shield-boss, though he be brave in his wicked deeds; but tonight we two will forgo our swords, if he dare to seek out 685 a war without weapons—and then let the wise Lord grant the judgment of glory, the holy God, to whichever hand seems proper to Him.” He lay down, battle-brave; the bolster took the earl’s cheek, and around him many a bold seafarer sank to his hall-rest. None of them thought that he should thence ever again seek his own dear homeland, his tribe or the town in which he was raised, for they had heard it said that savage death 695 had swept away far too many of the Danish folk in that wine-hall. But the Lord gave them a web of victory, the people of the Weders, comfort and support, so that they completely, through one man’s craft, overcame their enemy, 700 by his own might. It is a well-known truth that mighty God has ruled mankind always and forever. In the dark night he came creeping, the shadow-goer. The bowmen slept who were to hold that horned hall— 705 all but one. It was well-known to men that the demon foe could not drag them under the dark shadows if the Maker did not wish it; but he, wakeful, keeping watch for his enemy, awaited, enraged, the outcome of battle. 11 710 Then from the moor, in a blanket of mist, Grendel came stalking—he bore God’s anger; the evil marauder meant to ensnare some of human-kind in that high hall. Under the clouds he came until he clearly knew 715 he was near the wine-hall, men’s golden house, finely adorned. It was not the first time he had sought out the home of Hrothgar, but never in his life, early or late, did he find harder luck or a hardier hall-thane. 720 To the hall came that warrior on his journey, bereft of joys. The door burst open, fast in its forged bands, when his fingers touched it; bloody-minded, swollen with rage, he swung open the hall’s mouth, and immediately afterwards 725 the fiend strode across the paved floor, went angrily; in his eyes stood a light not fair, glowing like fire. He saw in the hall many a soldier, a peaceful troop sleeping all together, 730 a large company of thanes—and he laughed inside; he meant to divide, before day came, this loathsome creature, the life of each man from his body, when there befell him the hope of a feast. But it was not his fate 735 to taste any more of the race of mankind after that night. The kinsman of Hygelac, mighty one, beheld how that maneater planned to proceed with his sudden assault. Not that the monster1 meant to delay— 740 he seized at once at his first pass a sleeping man, slit him open suddenly, bit into his joints, drank the blood from his veins, gobbled his flesh in gobbets, and soon had completely devoured that dead man, 745 feet and fingertips. He stepped further, and took in his hands the strong-hearted man in his bed; the monster reached out towards him with his hands—he quickly grabbed him with evil intent, and sat up against his arm. 750 As soon as that shepherd of sins discovered that he had never met on middle-earth, in any region of the world, another man with a greater handgrip, in his heart he was afraid for his life, but none the sooner could he flee. 755 His mind was eager to escape to the darkness, seek out a host of devils—his habit there was nothing like he had ever met before. The good kinsman of Hygelac remembered then his evening speech, and stood upright 760 and seized him fast. His fingers burst; the giant turned outward, the earl stepped inward. The notorious one meant—if he might— to turn away further and flee, away to his lair in the fen; he knew his fingers 765 were held in a hostile grip. That was an unhappy journey that the harm-doer took to Heorot! The great hall resounded; to the Danes it seemed, the city’s inhabitants, and every brave earl, like a wild ale-sharing.2 Both were angry, fierce house-wardens—the hall echoed. It was a great wonder that the wine-hall withstood their fighting and did not fall to the ground, that fair building—but it was fastened inside and out with iron bands, 775 forged with skill. From the floor there flew many a mead-bench, as men have told me, gold-adorned, where those grim foes fought. The Scylding elders had never expected that any man, by any ordinary means, 780 could break it apart, beautiful, bone-adorned, or destroy it with guile, unless the embrace of fire might swallow it in flames. The noise swelled new and stark—among the North-Danes was horrible terror, in each of them 785 who heard through the wall the wailing cry— God’s adversary shrieked a grisly song of horror, defeated, the captive of Hell bewailed his pain. He pinned him fast, he who among men was the strongest of might 790 in those days of this life. 12 That protector of earls would not for anything let that murderous visitor escape alive— he did not consider his days on earth of any use at all. Many an earl 795 in Beowulf’s troop drew his old blade, longed to protect the life of his liege-lord, the famous captain, however they could. But they did not know as they entered the fight, those stern-minded men of battle, 800 and thought to strike from all sides and seek his soul, that no sword, not the best iron anywhere in the world, could even touch that evil sinner, for he had worked a curse on weapons, 805 every sort of blade. His separation from the world in those days of this life would have to be miserable, and that alien spirit would travel far into the keeping of fiends. Then he discovered, who had done before so much harm to the race of mankind, so many crimes—he was marked by God— that his body could bear it no longer, but the courageous kinsman of Hygelac had him in hand—hateful to each 815 was the life of the other. The loathsome creature felt great bodily pain; a gaping wound opened in his shoulder-joint, his sinews sprang apart, his joints burst asunder. Beowulf was given glory in battle—Grendel was forced 820 to flee, mortally wounded, into the fen-slopes, seek a sorry abode; he knew quite surely that the end of his life had arrived, the sum of his days. The will of the Danes was entirely fulfilled in that bloody onslaught! 825 He who had come from afar had cleansed, wise and stout-hearted, the hall of Hrothgar, warded off attack. He rejoiced in his night-work, his great courage. That man of the Geats had fulfilled his boast to the East-Danes, 830 and entirely remedied all their distress, the insidious sorrows they had suffered and had to endure from sad necessity, no small affliction. It was a clear sign, when the battle-brave one laid down the hand, 835 arm and shoulder—there all together was Grendel’s claw—under the curved roof. WARNING! End of first half. Beginning of part 13.