'Twas there, my prince, that I proudly distinguished Thy land with my labors. He left and retreated, He lived his life a little while longer: 65 Yet his right-hand guarded his footstep in Heorot, And sad-mooded thence to the sea-bottom fell he, Mournful in mind. For the might-rush of battle {King Hrothgar lavished gifts upon me.} The friend of the Scyldings, with gold that was plated, With ornaments many, much requited me, 70 When daylight had dawned, and down to the banquet We had sat us together. There was chanting and joyance: The age-stricken Scylding asked many questions [72] And of old-times related; oft light-ringing harp-strings, Joy-telling wood, were touched by the brave one; 75 Now he uttered measures, mourning and truthful, Then the large-hearted land-king a legend of wonder Truthfully told us. Now troubled with years {The old king is sad over the loss of his youthful vigor.} The age-hoary warrior afterward began to Mourn for the might that marked him in youth-days; 80 His breast within boiled, when burdened with winters Much he remembered. From morning till night then We joyed us therein as etiquette suffered, Till the second night season came unto earth-folk. Then early thereafter, the mother of Grendel {Grendel's mother.} 85 Was ready for vengeance, wretched she journeyed; Her son had death ravished, the wrath of the Geatmen. The horrible woman avengèd her offspring, And with mighty mainstrength murdered a hero. {Æschere falls a prey to her vengeance.} There the spirit of Æschere, agèd adviser, 90 Was ready to vanish; nor when morn had lightened Were they anywise suffered to consume him with fire, Folk of the Danemen, the death-weakened hero, Nor the belovèd liegeman to lay on the pyre; {She suffered not his body to be burned, but ate it.} She the corpse had offcarried in the clutch of the foeman[2] 95 'Neath mountain-brook's flood. To Hrothgar 'twas saddest Of pains that ever had preyed on the chieftain; By the life of thee the land-prince then me[3] Besought very sadly, in sea-currents' eddies To display my prowess, to peril my safety, 100 Might-deeds accomplish; much did he promise. {I sought the creature in her den,} I found then the famous flood-current's cruel, Horrible depth-warder. A while unto us two [73] Hand was in common; the currents were seething With gore that was clotted, and Grendel's fierce mother's {and hewed her head off.} 105 Head I offhacked in the hall at the bottom With huge-reaching sword-edge, hardly I wrested My life from her clutches; not doomed was I then,