NOT in any wise would the earls'-defence 
suffer that slaughterous stranger to live, 
useless deeming his days and years 
to men on earth. Now many an earl 
of Beowulf brandished blade ancestral, 
fain the life of their lord to shield, 
their praised prince, if power were theirs; 
never they knew, -- as they neared the foe, 
hardy-hearted heroes of war, 
aiming their swords on every side 
the accursed to kill, -- no keenest blade, 
no farest of falchions fashioned on earth, 
could harm or hurt that hideous fiend! 
He was safe, by his spells, from sword of battle, 
from edge of iron. Yet his end and parting 
on that same day of this our life 
woful should be, and his wandering soul 
far off flit to the fiends' domain. 
Soon he found, who in former days, 
harmful in heart and hated of God, 
on many a man such murder wrought, 
that the frame of his body failed him now. 
For him the keen-souled kinsman of Hygelac 
held in hand; hateful alive 
was each to other. The outlaw dire 
took mortal hurt; a mighty wound 
showed on his shoulder, and sinews cracked, 
and the bone-frame burst. To Beowulf now 
the glory was given, and Grendel thence 
death-sick his den in the dark moor sought, 
noisome abode: he knew too well 
that here was the last of life, an end 
of his days on earth. -- To all the Danes 
by that bloody battle the boon had come. 
From ravage had rescued the roving stranger 
Hrothgar's hall; the hardy and wise one 
had purged it anew. His night-work pleased him, 
his deed and its honor. To Eastern Danes 
had the valiant Geat his vaunt made good, 
all their sorrow and ills assuaged, 
their bale of battle borne so long, 
and all the dole they erst endured 
pain a-plenty. -- 'Twas proof of this, 
when the hardy-in-fight a hand laid down, 
arm and shoulder, -- all, indeed, 
of Grendel's gripe, -- 'neath the gabled roof.