Put to sleep with the sword, that sea-going travelers
       10 No longer thereafter were hindered from sailing
          The foam-dashing currents.  Came a light from the east,
          God’s beautiful beacon; the billows subsided,
          That well I could see the nesses projecting,

{Fortune helps the brave earl.}

          The blustering crags.  Weird often saveth
       15 The undoomed hero if doughty his valor! 
          But me did it fortune[1] to fell with my weapon
          Nine of the nickers.  Of night-struggle harder
          ’Neath dome of the heaven heard I but rarely,
          Nor of wight more woful in the waves of the ocean;
       20 Yet I ’scaped with my life the grip of the monsters,

{After that escape I drifted to Finland.}

          Weary from travel.  Then the waters bare me
          To the land of the Finns, the flood with the current,

{I have never heard of your doing any such bold deeds.}

          The weltering waves.  Not a word hath been told me
          Of deeds so daring done by thee, Unferth,
       25 And of sword-terror none; never hath Breca
          At the play of the battle, nor either of you two,
          Feat so fearless performed with weapons
          Glinting and gleaming . . . . . . . . . . . .
[22] . . . . . . . . . . . .  I utter no boasting;

{You are a slayer of brothers, and will suffer damnation, wise as you may be.}

       30 Though with cold-blooded cruelty thou killedst thy brothers,
          Thy nearest of kin; thou needs must in hell get
          Direful damnation, though doughty thy wisdom. 
          I tell thee in earnest, offspring of Ecglaf,
          Never had Grendel such numberless horrors,
       35 The direful demon, done to thy liegelord,
          Harrying in Heorot, if thy heart were as sturdy,

{Had your acts been as brave as your words, Grendel had not ravaged your land so long.}

          Thy mood as ferocious as thou dost describe them. 
          He hath found out fully that the fierce-burning hatred,
          The edge-battle eager, of all of your kindred,
       40 Of the Victory-Scyldings, need little dismay him: 
          Oaths he exacteth, not any he spares

{The monster is not afraid of the Danes,}

          Of the folk of the Danemen, but fighteth with pleasure,
          Killeth and feasteth, no contest expecteth

{but he will soon learn to dread the Geats.}

          From Spear-Danish people.  But the prowess and valor
       45 Of the earls of the Geatmen early shall venture
          To give him a grapple.  He shall go who is able
          Bravely to banquet, when the bright-light of morning

{On the second day, any warrior may go unmolested to the mead-banquet.}