Part XI

THEN from the moorland, by misty crags,with God's wrath laden, Grendel came.The monster was minded of mankind nowsundry to seize in the stately house.Under welkin he walked, till the wine-palace there,gold-hall of men, he gladly discerned,flashing with fretwork. Not first time, this,that he the home of Hrothgar sought, --yet ne'er in his life-day, late or early,such hardy heroes, such hall-thanes, found!To the house the warrior walked apace,parted from peace; the portal opended,though with forged bolts fast, when his fists hadstruck it,and baleful he burst in his blatant rage,the house's mouth. All hastily, then,o'er fair-paved floor the fiend trod on,ireful he strode; there streamed from his eyesfearful flashes, like flame to see.

He spied in hall the hero-band,kin and clansmen clustered asleep,hardy liegemen. Then laughed his heart;for the monster was minded, ere morn should dawn,savage, to sever the soul of each,life from body, since lusty banquetwaited his will! But Wyrd forbade himto seize any more of men on earthafter that evening. Eagerly watchedHygelac's kinsman his cursed foe,how he would fare in fell attack.Not that the monster was minded to pause!Straightway he seized a sleeping warriorfor the first, and tore him fiercely asunder,the bone-frame bit, drank blood in streams,swallowed him piecemeal: swiftly thusthe lifeless corse was clear devoured,e'en feet and hands. Then farther he hied;for the hardy hero with hand he grasped,felt for the foe with fiendish claw,for the hero reclining, -- who clutched it boldly,prompt to answer, propped on his arm.Soon then saw that shepherd-of-evilsthat never he met in this middle-world,in the ways of earth, another wightwith heavier hand-gripe; at heart he feared,sorrowed in soul, -- none the sooner escaped!Fain would he flee, his fastness seek,the den of devils: no doings nowsuch as oft he had done in days of old!Then bethought him the hardy Hygelac-thaneof his boast at evening: up he bounded,grasped firm his foe, whose fingers cracked.The fiend made off, but the earl close followed.The monster meant -- if he might at all --to fling himself free, and far awayfly to the fens, -- knew his fingers' powerin the gripe of the grim one. Gruesome marchto Heorot this monster of harm had made!Din filled the room; the Danes were bereft,castle-dwellers and clansmen all,earls, of their ale. Angry were boththose savage hall-guards: the house resounded.Wonder it was the wine-hall firmin the strain of their struggle stood, to earththe fair house fell not; too fast it waswithin and without by its iron bandscraftily clamped; though there crashed from sillmany a mead-bench -- men have told me --gay with gold, where the grim foes wrestled.So well had weened the wisest Scyldingsthat not ever at all might any manthat bone-decked, brave house break asunder,crush by craft, -- unless clasp of firein smoke engulfed it. -- Again uprosedin redoubled. Danes of the Northwith fear and frenzy were filled, each one,who from the wall that wailing heard,God's foe sounding his grisly song,cry of the conquered, clamorous painfrom captive of hell. Too closely held himhe who of men in might was strongestin that same day of this our life.