Beowulf

Lines 710–1007

1

Then bent on destruction, and bulging with rage, he forced open the hall’s mouth to move quickly in— a fiend trespassing on the shining floor, his spirit filled with fire.

2

Many a mead-bench, adorned with gold, flew from the floor, as I have heard told, in the struggle of foes.

3

The North-Danes recoiled at the horrible terror, as each of their troop heard a wail go up from inside the walls, the enemy of God screaming songs of despair, his cries of defeat—as this captive of hell found his wounds fatal.

4

while nobles look on the sign of his strength the hand of Grendel high up by the roof, the fingers of the foe—and each one tipped with a thick sharp mail, as strong as steel, the claws of the heathen suited for slashing in horrible slaughter.