|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
|
33 had there this un-living Geat Altogether eaten down, even to hands and feet. Then stepped he forth and nearer, and pawed by bed to nim The hardy-headed Hero, reaching toward him With his claws be- deviled: with thoughts that boded harm, Beowulf received him, propped upon an arm. But soon he found, did Grendel,- this Herdsman-over-crimes, That never in this Middle-World, this earth of many climes, He’d met a mightier hand-grip in any man than here. Afeared in mood and spirit, small help he gat from fear! Was bent on making-off, ho!- out to the dark would flee, Would seek the din of devils! Not now in Heorot he Fared as in the old- days!- And then the Bold-in-pride, Hyglac’s Thane, remembered his speech of eventide. Up he stood and grasped him so tight the fingers cracked. The Ettin started outward-the Jarl upon him packed. The monstrous One was minded, whereso’er he may, To fling himself but farther, and from thence away To flee to boggy dingles; his fingers’ power he wist Was in the grip of Grim One. That was a sorry quest Whereon the Scather Grendel to Heorot Hall had pressed. The lordly room resounded; and all the Danes did quail, Those warrior jarls of walled-town, lest ref for aye of ale. Wroth were the ramping twain there, those warders of the house; The chamber rang with uproar; mickle wonder ‘t was How the wine-hall held out ‘gainst shock of fighters there, How adown did fall not that earthly dwelling fair. But inside and outside it was too firmly wrought, With the bands of iron, forged by cunning thought. I’ve heard that many a mead-bench, with gold gilded o’er, There where tugged the foemen, started from the floor. So had weened the wise ones of the Scyldings erst That never any man by force might asunder burst That brave house and bone- bright, nor by craft might splitSave that bosoming fire in flame should swallow it. Up there rose a shriek then, strange enough o’ night; On each and every North-Dane seized a grisly fright, On each who from the wall there heard that ‘well-a-way’ Heard this God-Forsaker chant his gruesome lay, His song of loss-in-battle, heard bewail his wound This Grendel, Hell’s Bondsman. For held him tightly bound That man who was of all men between the seas confessed, In the days of this our life here, in strength the mightiest. |
