Grendel’s Mother
But Grendel’s mother did not close her eyes in sleep. When her son came home with his death-blow, great was the sorrow and anger in her heart. She would punish the Danes and the Goths for her son’s death. In the middle of the night she crept to the hall where the Danes were sleeping, free from all fear. One she seized,—a brave man and dear to the king. Then rose a great cry in the hall when Grendel’s mother saw her son’s well-known hand and arm. She seized it and bore it away to the dark lake, together with the body of the warrior.
Soon Hrothgar was told of the fresh calamity, and he grieved at the death of his friend, the brave warrior whom Grendel’s mother had taken away.
When Beowulf came to the hall, Hrothgar cried out: “Speak not to me of rest or joy! Sorrow has come again. My best friend in war and peace is dead! The dread monster has killed him. Two shadows on the moor have my men seen; one, Grendel, is the figure of a man, and the other is like a woman. They dwell in the secret land where the wolf howls and the winds sweep; where the flood flows under the earth. About a mile away is this lake over which the dark trees bend. Every night can fire be seen over this waste of water. No one knows how deep the lake is. The noisy winds raise the black waves until the air grows gloomy and the heavens shed tears. You know not this dreadful place. If you dare seek it and come back from the strife, I will give you money and treasures of gold.”