eper. Tearing him limb from limb, so
swiftly that his cry of agony was unheard, he drank the warm blood and
devoured the flesh; then, excited by the hideous food, he reached forth
again. Great was Grendel's amazement to find that his hand was seized
in a grasp such as he had never felt before, and to know that he had
at last found an antagonist whom even he must fight warily. Beowulf
sprang from his couch as the terrible claws of the monster fell upon
him, and wrestled with Grendel in the darkness and gloom of the
unlighted hall, where the flicker of the fire had died down to a dim
glow in the dull embers. That was a dreadful struggle, as the
combatants, in deadly conflict, swayed up and down the hall,
overturning tables and benches, trampling underfoot dishes and goblets
in the darkling wrestle for life. The men of the Geats felt for their
weapons, but they could not see the combatants distinctly, though they
heard the panting and the trampling movements, and occasionally caught
a gleam from the fiend's eyes as his face was turned towards them. When
they struck their weapons glanced harmlessly off Grendel's scaly hide.
The struggle continued for some time, and the hall was an utter wreck
within, when Grendel, worsted for once, tried to break away and rush
out into the night; but Beowulf held him fast in the grip which no man
on earth could equal or endure, and the monster writhed in anguish as
he vainly strove to free himself--vainly, for Beowulf would not loose
his grip. Suddenly, with one great cry, Grendel wrenched himself free,
and staggered to the door, leaving behind a terrible blood-trail, for
his arm and shoulder were torn off and left in the victor's grasp. So
the monster fled wailing over the moors to his home in the gloomy mere,
and Beowulf sank panting on a shattered seat, scarce believing in his
victory, until his men gathered round, bringing a lighted torch, by the
flaring gleam of which the green, scaly arm of Grendel looked ghastly
and threatening. But the monster had fled, and after such a wound as
the loss of his arm and shoulder must surely die; therefore the Geats
raised a shout of triumph, and then took the hateful trophy and
fastened it high up on the roof of the hall, that all who entered might
see the token of victory and recognise that the Geat hero had performed
his boast, that he would conquer with no weapon, but by the strength of
his hands alone.

In the morning many a warrior came to Heoro