NOT in any wise would the earls’-defence
suffer that slaughterous stranger to live
useless deeming his days and years
to men on earth. Now many an earl
of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral
fain the life of their lord to shield
their praised prince, if power were theirs
never they knew, — as they neared the foe
hardy-hearted heroes of war
aiming their swords on every side
the accursed to kill, — no keenest blade
no farest of falchions fashioned on earth
could harm or hurt that hideous fiend
He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle
from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting
on that same day of this our life
woful should be, and his wandering soul
far off flit to the fiends’ domain.
Soon he found, who in former days
harmful in heart and hated of God
on many a man such murder wrought
that the frame of his body failed him now.
For him the keen-souled kinsman of Hygelac
held in hand; hateful alive
was each to other. The outlaw dire
took mortal hurt; a mighty wound
showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked
and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now
the glory was given, and Grendel thence
death-sick his den in the dark moor sought
noisome abode: he knew too well
that here was the last of life, an end
of his days on earth. — To all the Danes
by that bloody battle the boon had come.
From ravage had rescued the roving stranger
Hrothgar’s hall; the hardy and wise one
had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him
his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes
had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good
all their sorrow and ills assuaged
their bale of battle borne so long
and all the dole they erst endured
pain a-plenty. — ’Twas proof of this
when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down
arm and shoulder, — all, indeed
of Grendel’s gripe, — ’neath the gabled roof.