From Beowulf’s swimming story to the end of the fight with Grendel.

Then a bench was cleared in the beer-hall for the Geats all together; there the stout-hearted ones went to sit, proud in their strength. A thane did his duty, who bore in his hands the decorated ale-cup, poured out the bright sweet drink. At times a scop sang, clear-voiced in Heorot [drinks and music, this is a party]; there was joy of heroes, no small host of Danes and Weders.

Unferth spoke, the son of Ecglaf, who sat at the feet of the lord of the Scyldings [implying that he is well regarded by the king? he might also be a court jester, explaining his behavior]; he unbound a battle-rune [a battle-rune!] (the journey of Beowulf, the brave seafarer, was a great vexation to him, for he would not allow that any other man ever achieved more glory under the heavens than himself [here we lapse into his thoughts]): “Are you that Beowulf who strove with Breca on the open sea, competing at swimming, where you two for pride tested the waters and for a foolish boast risked your lives in the deep water? No one, friend or foe, could dissuade you from that sorrowful journey, when you two swam out into the sea. There you enfolded the ocean streams with your arms, traversed the water-tracks, tossed with your hands, glided over the sea; the ocean was turbulent with waves, with the surges of winter. In the power of the water you toiled seven nights. He overcame you at swimming, he had more strength [so many insults, accusing beowulf of boasting and weakness]. Then in the morning the sea cast him up on the land of the Heatho-Reames, from where he, beloved of his people, sought his dear homeland, the country of the Brondings, his fair stronghold where he had his folk, a city, and treasures. The son of Beanstan truly fulfilled all his boast against you. So I expect a worse result for you, even if you have so far prevailed in every battle-rush, grim fight, if you dare await Grendel nearby for the space of a night.”

Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, spoke: “Well, my friend Unferth [ironic, and no doubt said in a chilly tone], you have said a great deal about Breca, drunk with beer, telling of his adventure [now the insult is reversed and turns into a boast]. The truth is that I had the greater sea-strength, power to withstand hardships on the waves, than any other man. He and I had talked in our youth and boasted - we were both then still in the prime of youth - that we two would risk our lives out on the sea, and so we did. We had our naked swords hard in hand [is this a double-entendre? unlikely] as we swam, intending to defend ourselves against whales. He could not swim away from me on the surging sea, be faster on the flood; I would not let him go. Thus we two remained in the sea for five nights, until the flood drove us apart, the coldest of weather, darkening night, and the fierce wind from the north turned against us, rough were the waves. The wrath of sea-fishes was aroused: my solid-linked mail-coat, hand-forged and adorned with gold [here he implies that he is rich], gave me help against the foes; my woven battle-garment, gold-adorned, lay on my breast. A hostile and terrible creature dragged me to the bottom, held me fast in its grim grip, yet it was granted me to reach the monster with the point of my battle-blade; the attack brought about the mighty sea-beast’s death by my hand.

“Thus frequently my hated foes threatened me severely. I served them well with my dear sword, as was right. They had no joy of the feast, the evil-doers, that they might devour me, sit around their banquet near the sea-bottom; but in the morning, wounded by blades, they lay high up on the seashore, put to sleep by swords, so that never after did they hinder seafarers on their course by the deep sea-currents. Light came from the east, a bright beacon; the seas subsided so that I could see the sea-headlands, the wind-swept cliffs. Fate often saves an undoomed man when his courage is good! However, it was granted me that I slew nine sea-monsters with my sword. I have not heard told of a harder nighttime fight under the vault of heaven, nor of a more miserable man adrift on the currents. Yet I survived the grasp of hostiles, worn out as I was with my adventure. The sea bore me up, the surging waters, onto the land of the Finns. I have not heard anything of such feats of arms concerning you [a direct insult], any such terror of swords. Neither Breca ever yet, nor either of you, performed such bold deeds in the play of battle with bloodstained swords - I don’t boast much of that - though you let your brothers’s die, your near kin, good as your wit may be [here brother is metaphorical: he has not been able to protect his brothers in arms from Grendel]. I say to you truly, son of Ecglaf, that Grendel, the fell monster, would never have done such horrors, such grim injuries, to your lord, humiliation in Heorot, if your spirit, your heart, were as battle-fierce as you yourself claim. But he has found out that he need not greatly fear the feud, the terrible sword-storm of your nation, the Victory-Scyldings. He takes his toll, he spares none of the Danish people, but he delights in killing, puts them to sleep, he counts on no quarrel from the Spear-Danes. But I shall quickly offer him the strength and courage of the Geats in war. Afterwards, let him who may gain fame in the hall go to the mead-drinking when morning-light, another day, the sun clothed in radiance, shines from the south over the children of men! [he has just insulted most of the people present]”

Then the giver of treasure was grey-haired and battle-brave; the chief of the Bright-Danes trusted in rescue, in Beowulf’s help, the lord of the people had heard the firm-set purpose in the hero’s speech. There was heroes’ laughter; the din resounded and joyful words were spoken. Wealhtheow, Hrothgar’s queen, went forth, mindful of courtesies [note how she goes to the local lords first, appeasing them, before tending to Beowulf], gold-adorned, greeting the men in the hall; and the noble woman first handed the cup to the lord of the homeland of the East-Danes, bade him be blithe at the beer-drinking, beloved of his people. In joy he partook of the feast and the hall-cup, victorious king. Then the lady of the Helmings went round to elder and younger everywhere, handing the precious cup, until the moment came that the ring-adorned queen, high-spirited, brought the mead-cup to Beowulf. She greeted the lord of the Geats, thanked God with wise words that her will had been granted, that she might find any earl for help against such crimes. He, the fierce warrior, received it from Wealhtheow, and then, prepared for combat, spoke in formal words [we are back to people showing respect to each other]. Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, said:

“I had intended when I put out to sea and sat down in the sea-boat with my company of men, that I would entirely fulfill the wish of your people or else fall in slaughter, fast in the fiend’s grip. I shall perform a deed of manly courage, or in this mead-hall await my end-day.”

Those words, the Geat’s boast, pleased the woman well; the gold-adorned folk-queen went to sit by her lord.

Then again, as often before, bold speech was spoken in the hall, the people were joyful, the noise of the victorious people resounded, until the son of Healfdene wished to seek his evening rest. He knew that the monster intended war upon the high hall, as soon as they could no longer see the sun’s light, and shadowy shapes came gliding forth wan beneath the clouds, night growing dark over all. The whole company arose. The grey-haired king greeted the other, Hrothgar Beowulf, and wished him success, power over the wine-hall, and spoke these words: “Never have I entrusted to any man, since I could lift hand and shield, the mighty hall of the Danes, except now to you. Have now and hold this best of houses, be mindful of fame [this is pointed advice], show mighty courage, watch for foes! You shall not lack what you wish if you survive this brave deed with your life.” [he is metaphorically handing him the kingdom and giving him advice for the rest of his life]

Then Hrothgar, protector of the Scyldings, went out of the hall with his troop of heroes; the war-chief wished to seek Wealhtheow, his queen and bedmate [in the end, he goes to his queen and bed rather than battle and fame, a wise decision, taking his own advice]. The famous king had, as men learned, appointed a hall-guard against Grendel; he performed a special service for the lord of the Danes, kept watch against monsters. Indeed, the prince of the Geats firmly trusted his bold strength and the favor of the Lord. Then he took off his iron corselet, helmet from his head; gave his ornamented sword, choicest of blades, to his thane, and bade him keep the war-gear.

Then the good man spoke some words of boast: “I consider myself no lesser in war-strength, in battle-works, than Grendel does himself. Therefore, I will not kill him with a sword, deprive him of life, though I easily might. He knows no good ways of striking back at me, hewing my shield, though he may be formidable in hostile works. We two shall forgo swords in the night, if he dares seek war without weapons, and afterwards the AllFather, wise one, shall assign glory on whichever hand seems good to Him.”

Then the bold warrior lay down, the pillow received the earl’s face, and many a keen sea-warrior lay down on his hall-bed around him. None of them expected ever to reach his beloved homeland again, the people or the stronghold where he was bred; they had heard that bloody death had taken all too many before, men of the Danes in that wine-hall [all lying down, getting ready for death]. But the Lord gave them success in war, aid and support, so that they all overcame their enemy through the craft of one man and his might alone.

In the dark night came stalking the walker in shadows. The warriors slept who had to guard the gabled hall - all but one. It was well-known to men that the demon could not drag them under the shadows, but Beowulf watched in anger, awaiting the battle’s outcome with swelling rage.

Then from the moor, under the misty cliffs, came Grendel walking, wearing the gods wrath. The foul ravager intended to ensnare some man in the high hall. He went under the clouds until he could see most clearly the wine-hall, the gold-adorned building of men, shining with gold-plating [gold is also a theme of the book, there is much of it and much is amassed]. That was not the first time he had sought out Hrothgar’s home. Never in his life before or since did he find worse luck with hall-thanes!

Then the creature deprived of joys came walking to the hall. The door, fastened with fire-forged bars, sprang open at once when he touched it with his hands. Then, swollen with rage, the ravager trod on the shining floor, moved angrily on. A horrible light, like flame, flared from his eyes. He saw many men in the building, a band of kinsmen, a group of young warriors, lying together sleeping. Then his heart exulted; the terrible monster intended to tear the life from the body of each one of them before day came, for the hope of a plentiful feast had come to him. It was no longer his fate that he should devour any more of mankind after that night. The mighty kinsman of Hygelac watched how the wicked ravager would set about his sudden attacks.

The monster did not delay, but he quickly seized a sleeping warrior as a first start, tore him fiercely asunder, bit into his bone-locks, drank the blood from his veins, swallowed him in large lumps; soon he had entirely devoured the man, even his feet and hands [this is a striking picture, a first death reminding us of how deadly Glendel is]. He stepped forward nearer, took then with his hand the great-hearted warrior on his resting place; the fiend reached towards him with his claw, he swiftly seized the foe with hostile intent, and grappled him on his arm. But the guardian of crimes soon realized he had not met in this earth, another man with a greater hand-grip. He grew fearful at heart, not for that could he escape the sooner. His intention was to run away, to flee into darkness, to seek the devil-pack - his mood was unlike any he had experienced before.

Then the good kinsman of Hygelac remembered his evening speech [now having to live up to his boast], he stood upright and seized him fast. His fingers cracked. The giant was moving out, the earl stepped forward. The famous one intended to flee further, if he at all could, and get away thence to his fen-hollows. He knew the power of his fingers, the fierce grip of his enemy, was in the grasp of the furious one; that was an ill-faring journey that the destructive spirit had taken to Heorot.

The splendid hall resounded. Dread fell upon all the Danes, castle-dwellers [one more note of this being a city], on each of the bold ones who heard the wail from the rampart, the adversary shrieking his terrible song, the howl of the defeated one, hell’s captive lamenting his pain. He who was the strongest of men in the days of this life held him too fast.

The protector of earls would not for any reason let the murderous visitor escape alive, did not consider his life-days useful to any people [hinting at a suicidal wish from Beowulf, in accord with his boast of succeeding or dying]. There many an earl of Beowulf’s brandished his old ancestral sword, wished to protect the life of his lord, the famous prince, in whatever way they could. They did not know it when they undertook the fight, the stout-hearted battle-warriors, and intended to hack away on every side, that not any of the choicest irons of the earth, no war-sword, could touch the wicked ravager; but he had enchanted victory-weapons, every sword-edge [he is enchanted against weapon]. But his parting from life was destined to be miserable on that day of this life, and the alien spirit must travel far into the power of fiends.

Then he who before had perpetrated much wickedness of mind against mankind found that his body would not serve him, but the proud kinsman of Hygelac had him by the hand. Each was hateful to the other alive. The horrible monster endured a body-wound - the sinews on his shoulder sprang apart, the bone-locks burst [the bursting is particularly graphic]. Success in battle was given to Beowulf; Grendel had to flee thence, mortally wounded, under the fen-slopes, had to seek his joyless dwelling. He knew the more surely that his life’s end was come, the number of his days. The wish of all the Danes had been fulfilled after the battle-slaughter.

The one who had come from afar, wise and valiant, had cleansed Hrothgar’s hall, saved it from attack. He rejoiced in his night-work, his glorious deeds. The prince of the Geat people had made good his boast to the East-Danes; besides, he had entirely remedied all their sorrow, the harrowing attacks they had endured before, no small distress. The demonstration was clear, when the battle-brave one laid down the hand, arm, and shoulder [a strong image] - there was Grendel’s claw altogether - under the vaulted roof.