new kinship well. There shall be no lack to
thee of wealth that I can give. Often have
I held worthy of part in my hoard for a less
help a weaker warrior. May the All-wielder
pay thee with good as He yet has done."
Then was Ecglaf's boasting son quieter,
after the Athelings had seen over the high
roof the foe's fingers. Each had before it
hand-spurs, most like steel, instead of nails.
The best of iron would not bite into that
bloody hand. Then was Heorot bidden to be
made fresh, many men and women worked at
the wine-house, the golden webs shone on
the walls full of sights wondrous to the gazer.
That bright dwelling, fast with bands of iron,
was much broken, the hinges were rent, the
roof only was sound when the wretch turned
to flight. Then came the time when Healfdene's
son should go to the hall, the king
himself would share many a mead-cup with
his warriors. Heorot was full of friends.
Then the son of Healfdene gave to Beowulf
a gold flag with rich hilt, a helm and war
shirt, a sword of great worth many saw
borne before the warrior. Beowulf shared
the cup in the court. The shelter of earls
then bade eight steeds be led into the
court; on one of them stood a saddle
cunningly worked; that was the war-seat of the
high king when the son of Healfdene played
the game of swords. To Beowulf he gave all,
—horses and weapons. Also, the lord of
warriors gave to each of those on the mead
bench who came the sea-way with Beowulf
a gift, an heirloom; and bade that the one
whom Grendel slew should be paid for with
gold. Before Healfdene's war-leaders the
glee wood was touched and Hrothgar's glee-men,
gladdeners of the hall, told of the works
of Fin's offspring. The tale of Fin Folwalding,
of Hnæf and Hengest, and the sons of
Hildeburh burnt by their mother at Hnæf's
pile. The lay was sung, the gleeman's song,
games were begun again, the noise was loud,
the cup-bearers gave wine from wondrous
cups. Then Wealtheow, wearing a golden
crown, came forth to where the two good
kinsmen sat. There also sat Hunferth, the
spokesman, at the feet of the Scyldings' lord.
The Queen said: "Take this cup, dear lord,
and be thou happy golden friend of men,
speak to the Goths kindly. Heorot, bright
hall of rings, is cleansed. Enjoy the mead
of the many, and leave to thy sons folk
and land when thou must forth to behold
God." Then she turned towards the bench
where her sons were, Hrethric and Hrothmund,
where Beowulf the Goth sat by the
two brethren. To him the cup was borne,
and friendly bidding done, and twisted gold,
two sleeves, a cloak and rings were given, the
largest I have heard tell of on earth since
Hama bore off the Brosings neck-ring.
Wealtheow said: "Wear this ring, dear
Beowulf, O youth, with all hail! and with this
cloak, these riches, thrive; enliven thyself
with strength, and be to these boys a kind
helper. Thou hast done that which shall
beget praise throughout all time as widely as
the water girds the windy walls of land.
Live thou a thriving Atheling, and be
kind to my sons. Here all are friends."
She went then to her seat. The meat was
choice, the men drank wine, they knew not
of a grim hereafter. When evening came,
and Hrothgar had gone to his rest, many
earls guarded the house, as often they had
done. They bared the bench floor, it was
over-spread with beds and bolsters. Filled
with beer, ready for sleep, they bowed; they
set at their heads the round bright shields.
There, on the bench, was to be seen over
each Atheling his high war-helm, his ringed
shirt, and stout war-wood. It was their way
to be ready for war at home, and in the host
when need came to their lord their help was
near.

But Grendel's mother, wretched woman—
she who dwells in gruesome waters, the cold
streams, came on a path of sorrow to wreak
wrath for her dead son. She came to Heorot,
where the Ring-Danes were all sleeping
through the hall. When in rushed Grendel's
mother, the hard edge was drawn,
against point and against edge, it stood fast.
Then had Eegtheow's son perished, had not
his war-shirt helped, and holy God decided for
the right when he again stood up. He saw
among the weapons a huge bill, an old sword
of the Eotens, work of giants, greater than
any other man might bear forth to the game
of war. The Scyldings' warrior seized the
knotted hilt, fast and fierce he struck with
the brand upon her neck, her bone rings
brake, the bill went through her flesh, she
sank on the ground. The sword was gory,
the beam still shone, mild as the light from
heaven's candle. He looked through that
dwelling and saw Grendel lying lifeless. His
huge trunk sprang far away, when he cut off
the head. But then behold! that sword
melted away as ice in the hot venomous
blood; there was left only the hilt. Beowulf
took none of the wealth that he saw: he took
only the giants' heads and the rich sword-hilt.

The men who were with Hrothgar looking
on the water saw it mixed with new blood.
They said this was a warning that the
Atheling was slain. Then came the noon of
day, and the bold Scyldings left the headland,
sick of mood, gazing upon the mere
wishing, not weening, to see their dear lord.
Forthwith he was afloat; he dived up through
the water, came stoutly swimming to land,
glad in the burthen he brought with him.
The stout band of thanes, loosed quickly his
helm and war-shirt, the stream trickled down
of water stained with gore. When they
went forth from the seashore, four men could
hardly bear upon the deadly stake the head
of Grendel. So they came to the hall, fourteen
brave Goths marching with their lord over
the meadows. The worthiest of thanes came
to greet Hrothgar; then Grendel's head was