depths. She made a grab at him, and caught him in her talons, but his
coat of mail saved him from her loathsome fingers. Still she clutched
him tight, and bore him in her arms to the bottom of the lake; he had no
power to use his weapons, though he had courage enough. Water-beasts
swam after him and battered him with their tusks.

Then he saw that he was in a vast hall, where there was no water, but a
strange, unearthly glow of firelight. At once the fight began, but the
sword would not bite--it failed its master in his need; for the first
time its fame broke down. Away Beowulf threw it in anger, trusting to
the strength of his hands. He cared nothing for his own life, for he
thought but of honour.

He seized the witch by the shoulder and swayed her so that she sank on
the pavement. Quickly she recovered, and closed in on him; he staggered
and fell, worn out. She sat on him, and drew her knife to take his life,
but his good mail coat turned the point. He stood up again, and then
truly God helped him, for he saw among the armour on the wall an old
sword of huge size, the handiwork of giants. He seized it, and smote
with all his might, so that the witch gave up her life.

His heart was full of gladness, and light, calm and beautiful as that of
the sun, filled the hall. He scanned the vast chamber, and saw Grendel
lying there dead. He cut off his head as a trophy for King Hrothgar,
whose men the fiend had killed and devoured.

Now those men who were seated on the banks of the pool watching with
Hrothgar saw that the water was tinged with blood. Then the old men
spoke together of the brave Beowulf, saying they feared they would never
see him again. The day was waning fast, so they and the King went