had melted, burned was the bright sword, her blood
was so hot, so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished
within there. Soon he was swimming who safe saw
in combat downfall of demons; up-dove through the
flood. The clashing waters were cleansed now,
waste of waves, where the wandering fiend her life-days
left and this lapsing world. Swam then to strand
the sailors’-refuge, sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty
glad, of burden brave he bore with him. Went
then to greet him, and God they thanked, the thane-band
choice of their chieftain blithe, that safe and sound
they could see him again. Soon from the hardy
one helmet and armor deftly they doffed: now
drowsed the mere, water ’neath welkin, with
war-blood stained. Forth they fared by the footpaths
thence, merry at heart the highways measured, well-known
roads. Courageous men carried the head from the
cliff by the sea, an arduous task for all the band,
the firm in fight, since four were needed on the shaft-of-slaughter
{23d} strenuously to bear to the gold-hall Grendel’s
head. So presently to the palace there foemen
fearless, fourteen Geats, marching came. Their
master-of-clan mighty amid them the meadow-ways trod.
Strode then within the sovran thane fearless in fight,
of fame renowned, hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet.
And next by the hair into hall was borne Grendel’s
head, where the henchmen were drinking, an awe to
clan and queen alike, a monster of marvel: the
men looked on.
XXIV
Beowulf spake, bairn of Ecgtheow: —
“Lo, now, this sea-booty, son of Healfdene,
Lord of Scyldings, we’ve lustily brought thee,
sign of glory; thou seest it here. Not lightly
did I with my life escape! In war under water
this work I essayed with endless effort; and even
so my strength had been lost had the Lord not shielded
me. Not a whit could I with Hrunting do in work
of war, though the weapon is good; yet a sword the
Sovran of Men vouchsafed me to spy on the wall there,
in splendor hanging, old, gigantic, — how
oft He guides the friendless wight! — and
I fought with that brand, felling in fight, since
fate was with me, the house’s wardens.
That war-sword then all burned, bright blade, when
the blood gushed o’er it, battle-sweat hot;
but the hilt I brought back from my foes. So
avenged I their fiendish deeds death-fall of Danes,
as was due and right. And this is my hest, that
in Heorot now safe thou canst sleep with thy soldier
band, and every thane of all thy folk both old and
young; no evil fear, Scyldings’ lord, from that
side again, aught ill for thy earls, as erst thou
must!” Then the golden hilt, for that gray-haired
leader, hoary hero, in hand was laid, giant-wrought,
old. So owned and enjoyed it after downfall of
devils, the Danish lord, wonder-smiths’ work,
since the world was rid of that grim-souled fiend,
the foe of God, murder-marked, and his mother as well.
Now it passed into power of the people’s king,
best of all that the oceans bound who have scattered
