All the troop sat down. And many kinds of serpents they saw in
the water, and wonderful dragons searching the sea, and on the
cliff-slopes, monsters of the ocean were lying at full length, who
at the morning tide often make a woful journey on the sail-path;
and snakes and wild beasts they could see also. And these living
things fell down on the path all bitter and angry when they perceived
the noise, and the blast of the war-horn. And the Prince of the
Geats killed one of them with his bow and arrows and ended his
wave-strife, and he was in the sea, slower at swimming as death swept
him away. And on the waves by fierce battle hard pressed, and with
boar-spears savagely barbed, the wondrous sea-monster was assailed
in the struggle and drawn up on the headland. And men were looking
at the awful stranger. And Beowulf put on him his armour, that was
fitting for an earl, and by no means did he lament over his life, for
the hand-woven coat of mail, which was ample and of many colours, was
destined to explore the deeps, and knew well how to defend his body,
so that neither battle-grip nor the hostile grasp of the treacherous
one might scathe breast or life; and the white helmet thereof warded
his head, that which was destined to search out the bottom of the
sea and the welter of waters, and which was adorned with treasures
and encircled with noble chains, wondrously decked and set round with
boar-images, as in days of yore a weapon-smith had made it for him,
so that no brand nor battle-sword could bite him. And by no means
was that the least of aids in battle that the Spokesman of Hrothgar
[40] lent him at need, even the hilted sword which was called
Hrunting. And it was one of the ancient treasures. Its edge was of
iron, and poison-tipped, and hardened in battle-sweat. And never
did it fail in the fight any man who brandished it in his hands,
or who dared to go on fearful journeys, to the field of battle. And
that was not the first time that it was to do deeds of courage. And
Unferth did not think, he the kinsman of Ecglaf, crafty of strength,
of what he formerly had said [41] when drunken with wine, he had lent
that weapon to a braver sword-warrior. He himself durst not risk his
life in the stress of the waters and do a glorious deed. And thereby
he lost his doom of famous deeds. But thus was it not with that other,
for he had got himself ready for the battle.
XXII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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