From the beginning to the introduction of Grendel.

Lo! We have heard of the glory of the Spear-Danes’ kings in days of yore - how those princes did valorous deeds! Often Scyld Scefing seized the mead-benches from many tribes, from troops of enemies, though he had first been found abandoned [this is important, he came from nothing like a lot of our characters]. He experienced solace for that - he grew under the heavens, thrived with honors, until each of the encircling nations over the whale-road had to obey him and pay tribute. That was a good king! [this sentence is repeated in the text as a way to build rythm]

Later a young heir was born to him, a child in the court. A comfort to the dire distress that the people had suffered before for a long while, leaderless. Beowulf [not our beowulf!] was renowned - his fame spread far and wide - heir of Scyld in the Scandinavian lands, by good deeds deserving the rich gifts from his father’s possessions, so that later loyal comrades will stand by him in his old age when war comes, serving the people - by praiseworthy actions shall a man prosper among any people.

Scyld passed away at his fated hour, the mighty lord went into the Lord’s keeping. His dear comrades then bore him to the sea’s surf, as he himself had bid while he, friend of the Scyldings, still ruled with words; long had he owned the land. There in the harbor stood the ring-prowed ship, icy but eager, fit for a prince. They laid their beloved lord, giver of rings, in the bosom of the ship, the glorious one by the mast. Many treasures were brought there, ornaments from far-off lands. I have not heard of a more splendid ship bedecked with battle-weapons and war-gear, swords and coats of mail. A multitude of treasures lay upon his breast that were to travel far with him into the watery realm. They equipped him with offerings no less than those had done who at his beginning had sent him forth alone over the waves, a small child [he came from the sea, and is now returned to the sea]. Moreover, they set a golden banner high over his head and let the sea bear him, gave him to the ocean. Their hearts were mournful, their minds sorrowful. No man can truly say - no lord in hall, no hero under the sky - who received that cargo [important, this is a future dragon’s hoard].

Then Beowulf of the Scyldings was long renowned as a king in the towns (his father had gone elsewhere, the prince from his own home) until in turn high Healfdene was born to him: he ruled, proud and warlike, the happy Scyldings for as long as he lived. And to him in turn four children were born into the world: Heorogar, Hrothgar, and good Halga; I have heard that Yrse was queen, dear bedfellow of the Battle-Scylfing [they all matter].

Then success in war was given to Hrothgar, honor in battle, so that his loyal kinsmen eagerly obeyed him, until the young fighters grew into a great troop.

It came into his mind that he would command the construction of a mead-hall, a great house which the men of his nation would talk of forever [hubris! Reminiscent of the tower of Babel], and there inside he would share out everything the gods had given him, except ancestral land and men’s lives [meaningful exceptions].

I have heard that the work, the task of adorning the noble dwelling, was proclaimed to many peoples throughout this middle-earth. In due time it came to pass, quickly among men, that it was completely ready, the greatest of halls. He whose word held sway far and wide gave it the name “Heorot”. He did not neglect his promise: at the feast he distributed rings and treasure. The hall towered high, horn-gabled, awaiting hostile flames; the surging blaze had not yet licked it, though the hatred of enemies was soon to come.

Then the powerful demon who in the darkness abided could not brook this for long, hearing each day loud joy in the hall. There were the strains of the harp, and the clear song of the scop.

So the warriors lived in joy and ease, until one [one of them? the ambiguity is interesting] began to do evil deeds, a hellish adversary. This fierce spirit was called Grendel, a notorious haunter of the borderlands, who occupied the moors, the fens and fastnesses, dwelling with the monster-kin.

Then, after night came, Grendel went to investigate the tall house, to see how the Ring-Danes had arranged it after their beer-drinking. He found therein a band of noble warriors sleeping after the feast; they knew no sorrow, no misery of men. The creature of evil, grim and greedy, was ready at once, savage and cruel, and seized from their rest thirty thanes; thence he returned to his lair exulting in his spoil, carrying the lifeless corpses home to his den.