Beowulf spake, the son of Ecgtheow: 'O kinsman of Healfdene, [42]
thou far-famed and proud prince, thou gold-friend of men, now that
eager I am for this forth-faring, bethink thee now of what we two were
speaking together, that if I should lose my life through helping thee
in thy need, thou wouldst be always to me in the place of a father
after my death. Be thou a guardian to my kinsmen, my thanes, and
my hand comrades, if battle should take me. And dear Hrothgar, send
thou the gifts, which thou didst give me, to Hygelac. And the Lord
of the Geats, the son of Hrethel, when he looks on the treasure and
perceives the gold, will see that I found a giver of rings, one good
and open-handed, and that while I could, I enjoyed the treasures. And
do thou let Unferth, the man who is far-famed, have the old heirloom,
the curiously wrought sword with its wave-like device, with its hard
edge. I work out my fate with Hrunting, or death shall seize me.'
After these words the Lord of the Weder-Geats courageously hastened,
and by no means would he wait for an answer. The whelming sea received
the battle-hero. And it was a day's while before he could see the
bottom of the sea. And very soon the fierce and eager one who had
ruled the expanse of the floods for a hundred years, she, the grim
and greedy, saw that a man was searching out from above the dwelling
of strange monsters. Then she made a grab at him, and closed on the
warrior with dire embrace. But not at first did she scathe his body,
safe and sound. The ring surrounded it on the outside, so that she
could not pierce the coat of mail or the interlaced war-shirt with
loathsome finger. Then the sea-wolf, when she came to the bottom of
the sea, bore the Ring-Prince towards her house so that he might not,
though he was so strong in soul, wield any weapon; and many a wonder
oppressed him in the depths, many a sea-beast broke his war-shirt
with his battle-tusks, and monsters pursued him.
Then the earl saw that he was in he knew not what hall of strife,
where no water scathed him a whit, nor could the sudden grip of the
flood touch him because of the roof-hall. He saw, too, a firelight,
a bright pale flame shining. Then the good man caught sight of the
she-wolf, that monstrous wife, down in the depths of the sea. And he
made a mighty rush with his sword. Nor did his hand fail to swing it
so that the ringed mail on her head sang a greedy death-song. Then
Beowulf the stranger discovered that the battle-blade would not bite
or scathe her life, but the edge failed the lord in his need. It
had suffered many hand-blows, and the helmet, the battle-dress of
the doomed one, it had often cut in two. That was the first time
that his dear sword-treasure failed him. Then he became resolute,
and not by any means did he fail in courage, that kinsman of Hygelac,
mindful of glory. And this angry warrior threw away the stout sword,
bound round with jewels with its wavy decorations, and with its
edge of steel, so that it lay prone on the ground; and henceforth
he trusted in his strength and the hand-grasp of might. So should
a man be doing when he thinketh to be gaining long-lasting praise
in fighting, and careth not for his life. Then the Lord of the Geats
seized by the shoulder the mother of Grendel (nor at all did he mourn
over that feud), and he, the hard in battle, threw down his deadly
foe, when he was angry, so that she lay prone on the floor. But she
very quickly, with grimmest of grips, requited him a hand-reward,
and made a clutch at him. And the weary in soul, that strongest of
fighters, he the foot-warrior stumbled and fell. Then she sat on that
hall-guest, and drew forth her axe, broad and brown-edged, and would
fain be avenging the death of her child, of her only son. But on his
shoulder was the coat of mail all woven, which saved his life and
prevented the entrance of the point and the edge of the sword. And
the son of Ecgtheow, the Prince of Geats, would have surely gone a
journey under the wide earth unless that warlike coat of mail had
given him help, that hard war-net, and unless the Holy God He the
cunning Lord, and the Ruler in the heavens, had wielded the victory,
and easily decided the issue aright; then he straightway stood up.