Hrothgar spake, he the Lord of the Danes: 'Ask not after our luck,
for sorrow is renewed to the folk of the Danes. Aeschere is dead, the
elder brother of Yrmenlaf; he was my councillor and my rune-teller,
[36] my shoulder-companion when we in the battle protected our heads;
when troops were clashing and helmets were crashing. He was what an
earl ought to be, a very good Atheling. Such a man was Aeschere. And
a wandering slaughter-guest was his hand-slayer, in Hart. I know
not whither that dire woman exulting in carrion, and by her feeding
made famous, went on her journeys. She was wreaking vengeance for the
feud of thy making when thou killedst Grendel but yesternight, in a
violent way, with hard grips, because all too long he was lessening
and destroying my people. He fell in the struggle, gave his life as
a forfeit; and now comes another, a mighty man-scather, to avenge
her son, and the feud hath renewed as may seem a heavy heart-woe to
many a thane who weeps in his mind over the treasure-giver. Now lieth
low the hand which availed you well, for every kind of pleasure. I
heard land-dwellers, and hall-counsellors, and my people, say that
they saw two such monstrous March-steppers, [37] alien-sprites,
holding the moorland. And one of them was in the likeness of a woman
as far as they could tell; the other, shapen wretchedly, trod the
path of exiles in the form of a man, except that he was greater than
any other man, he whom in former days the earth-dwellers called by
name Grendel. They knew not his father, whether any secret sprite
was formerly born of him. They kept guard over the hidden land,
and the wolf-slopes, the windy nesses, the terrible fen-path where
the mountain streams rush down under mists of the nesses, the floods
under the earth. And it is not farther hence than the space of a mile
where standeth the lake, over which are hanging the frosted trees,
their wood fast by the roots, and shadowing the water. And there
every night one may see dread wonders, fire on the flood. And there
liveth not a wise man of the children of men who knoweth well the
ground. Nevertheless the heath-stepper, the strong-horned hart, when
pressed by the hounds seeketh that woodland, when put to flight from
afar, ere on the hillside, hiding his head he gives up his life. [38]
'Nor is that a canny place. For thence the surge of waters riseth up
wan to the welkin when stirred by the winds, the loathsome weather,
until the heaven darkens and skies weep. Now is good counsel depending
on thee alone. Thou knowest not the land, the terrible places where
thou couldest find the sinful man; seek it if thou darest. I will
reward thee for the feud with old world treasures so I did before,
with twisted gold, if thou comest thence, on thy way.'