XXX
"The whole tale of how I killed him,
Repaid him in kind for all the evil
He'd done, would take too long; your people
My prince, were honored in the doing. He escaped,
Found a few minutes of life, but his hand,
His whole right arm, stayed in Herot;
The miserable creature crept away,
Dropped to the bottom of his lake, half dead
As he fell. When the sun had returned, the Danes'
Great king poured out treasure, repaid me
In hammered gold for the bloody battle
I'd fought in his name He ordered a feast;
There were songs and the telling of tales.
One ancient Dane told of long dead times,
And sometimes Hrothgar himself, with the harp
In his lap, stroked its silvery string
And told wonderful stories, a brave king
Reciting unhappy truths about good and evil
And sometimes he wove his stoires
On the mournful thread of old age, remembering
Buried strength and the battles it had won.
He would weep, the old king, wise with many
Winters, remembering what he'd done, once,
What he'd seen what he knew. And so we sat
The day away, feasting. Then darkness
Fell again, and Grendel's mother
Was waiting, ready for revenge, hating
The Danes for her son's death. The monstrous
Hag succeeded, burst boldly into Herot
And killed Esher, one of the king's oldest
And wisest soldiers. But when the sun shone
Once more the death weary Danes could not build
A pyre and burn his beloved body,
Lay hi on flaming logs, return ashes
To dust: she'd carried away his corpse,
Brought it to her den deep within the lake.
Hrothgar had wept for many of hismen,
But this time his heart melted, this was the worst.
He gbegged me, in your name, half weeping
As he spoke to seek still greater glory
Deep in the swirling waves, to win
Still higher fame, and the gifts he would give me.
Down in that surging lake I sought and found her.
The horrible hag, fierce and wild;
We fought, clutching and grasping;
The water ran red with blood and at last
With a mighty sword that had hung on the wall,
I cut off her head. I had barely escaped.
With my life, my death was not written. And the Danes'
Protector, Healfdane's grat son, heaped up
Treasures and precious jewels to reward me.
Chapter 31