Grendel'S Visits
Gewât þâ neósian, syððan niht becom,heán hûses, hû hit Hring-Deneäfter beór-þege gebûn häfdon.Fand þâ þær inne äðelinga gedrihtswefan äfter symble; sorge ne cûðon,won-sceaft wera. Wiht unhælogrim and grædig gearo sôna wäs,reóc and rêðe, and on räste genamþritig þegna: þanon eft gewâthûðe hrêmig tô hâm faran,mid þære wäl-fylle wîca neósan.Þâ wäs on uhtan mid ær-dägeGrendles gûð-cräft gumum undyrne:þâ wäs äfter wiste wôp up âhafen,micel morgen-swêg. Mære þeóden,
Then, once night had fallen, he went to seek outthe high hall — to see how the Ring-Daneshad settled in after their beer-drinking.Inside he found a company of noblesasleep after the feast; they knew no sorrow,no misery of men. That unholy creature,grim and greedy, was ready at once,savage and fierce, and seized from their restthirty thanes; then he went back,exulting in his plunder, heading home,to find his den with that fill of slaughter.Then at dawn, in the early light,Grendel’s war-craft was plain to see:after the feasting a wail went up,a great cry in the morning. The famous ruler,
äðeling ær-gôd, unblîðe sät,þolode þrýð-swýð, þegn-sorge dreáh,syððan hie þäs lâðan lâst sceáwedon,wergan gâstes; wäs þät gewin tô strang,lâð and longsum. Näs hit lengra fyrst,ac ymb âne niht eft gefremedemorð-beala mâre and nô mearn forefæhðe and fyrene; wäs tô fäst on þâm.Þâ wäs eáð-fynde, þe him elles hwærgerûmlîcor räste sôhte,bed äfter bûrum, þâ him gebeácnod wäs,gesägd sôðlîce sweotolan tâcneheal-þegnes hete; heóld hine syððanfyr and fästor, se þäm feónde ätwand.Swâ rîxode and wið rihte wan
that noble long good, sat grieving,suffered, strong as he was, bore the loss of his men,once they had seen the tracks of that hated,accursed spirit; the struggle was too fierce,hateful and long. No longer was there rest —within one more night he struck again,a greater slaughter, and felt no remorsefor feud or crime; he was too set on it.It was easy then to find the man who,somewhere else, sought a roomier bed,a place in the outbuildings, once it was made clear to him,told plainly by unmistakable sign,the hall-thane’s hatred; whoever escaped that fiendkept himself afterward farther off, and safer.So Grendel ruled, and fought against justice,
âna wið eallum, ôð þät îdel stôdhûsa sêlest. Wäs seó hwîl micel:twelf wintra tîd torn geþolodewine Scyldinga, weána gehwelcne,sîdra sorga; forþam syððan wearðylda bearnum undyrne cûð,gyddum geômore, þätte Grendel wan,hwîle wið Hrôðgâr;— hete-nîðas wäg,fyrene and fæhðe fela missera,singale säce, sibbe ne woldewið manna hwone mägenes Denigafeorh-bealo feorran, feó þingian,ne þær nænig witena wênan þorftebeorhtre bôte tô banan folmum;atol äglæca êhtende wäs,
alone against everyone, until it stood empty,the finest of halls. That was a long stretch of time:twelve winters of anguish the friend of the Scyldingsendured, every kind of grief,deep sorrows; and so, in time, it becamecommon knowledge to the children of men,sung of sadly, that Grendel had foughtagainst Hrothgar for years — waged hateful malice,crimes and feud, season after season,constant war, wanting no peacewith any man of the Danish power,no lifting of the death-toll, no settling for gold,and none of the counselors needed to expectbright compensation from the killer’s hands;the terrible monster hunted them down,
deorc deáð-scûa duguðe and geogoðeseomade and syrede. Sin-nihte heóldmistige môras; men ne cunnon,hwyder hel-rûnan hwyrftum scrîðað.Swâ fela fyrena feónd man-cynnes,atol ân-gengea, oft gefremedeheardra hýnða; Heorot eardode,sinc-fâge sel sweartum nihtum(nô he þone gif-stôl grêtan môste,mâððum for metode, ne his myne wisse);þät wäs wræc micel wine Scyldinga,môdes brecða. Monig-oft gesätrîce tô rûne; ræd eahtedon,hwät swîð-ferhðum sêlest wærewið fær-gryrum tô gefremmanne.
that dark shadow of death, stalking and ambushingveterans and young men alike. He held, night without end,the misty moors; no one knowswhere such hell-walkers go on their rounds.So many crimes the enemy of mankind,that terrible loner, went on committing,cruel humiliations; he lived in Heorot,that treasure-bright hall, on the darkest nights(he could never go near the throne of gifts,the treasure, because of God, and never knew His favor) —that was great grief to the friend of the Scyldings,a breaking of the heart. Often the powerfulsat in council, weighing what to do,what would serve the strong-hearted bestagainst these sudden horrors.
Hwîlum hie gehêton ät härg-trafumwig-weorðunga, wordum bædon,þät him gâst-bona geóce gefremedewið þeód-þreáum. Swylc wäs þeáw hyra,hæðenra hyht; helle gemundonin môd-sefan, metod hie ne cûðon,dæda dêmend, ne wiston hie drihten god,ne hie hûru heofena helm hêrian ne cûðon,wuldres waldend. Wâ bið þäm þe scealþurh slîðne nîð sâwle bescûfanin fýres fäðm, frôfre ne wênan,wihte gewendan; wel bið þäm þe môtäfter deáð-däge drihten sêceanand tô fäder fäðmum freoðo wilnian.
Sometimes at their shrines they vowedhonor to idols, prayed aloudthat the soul-slayer would send them helpagainst the people’s affliction. Such was their custom,the hope of the heathen; they turned their minds to hell,not knowing the Measurer, judge of deeds,not knowing the Lord God,not knowing how to praise the guardian of heaven,the ruler of glory. Woe to the one who,driven by savage hate, must shove his soulinto the fire’s grip, expecting no comfort,no change at all; well for the one who may,after his death-day, go to seek the Lordand long for peace in the Father’s embrace.