But Grendel's mother did not close her eyes in sleep. When her son
came home with his death-blow, great was the sorrow and anger in her
heart. She would punish the Danes and the Goths for her son's death.
In the middle of the night she crept to the hall where the Danes were
sleeping, free from all fear. One she seized,--a brave man and dear to
the king. Then rose a great cry in the hall when Grendel's mother saw
her son's well-known hand and arm. She seized it and bore it away to
the dark lake, together with the body of the warrior.
Soon Hrothgar was told of the fresh calamity, and he grieved at the
death of his friend, the brave warrior whom Grendel's mother had taken
away.
When Beowulf came to the hall, Hrothgar cried out: "Speak not to me of
rest or joy! Sorrow has come again. My best friend in war and peace
is dead! The dread monster has killed him. Two shadows on the moor
have my men seen; one, Grendel, is the figure of a man, and the other
is like a woman. They dwell in the secret land where the wolf howls
and the winds sweep; where the flood flows under the earth. About a
mile away is this lake over which the dark trees bend. Every night can
fire be seen over this waste of water. No one knows how deep the lake
is. The noisy winds raise the black waves until the air grows gloomy
and the heavens shed tears. You know not this dreadful place. If you
dare seek it and come back from the strife, I will give you money and
treasures of gold."