ath the o'erhanging cliffs downwards departeth,
Sinks in the sombre earth. Not far remote from us
Standeth the gloomy mere, round whose shores cluster
Groves with their branches mossed, hoary with lichens grey
A wood firmly rooted o'ershadows the water.
There is a wonder seen nightly by wanderers,
Flame in the waterflood: liveth there none of men
Ancient or wise enough to know its bottom.
Though the poor stag may be hard by the hounds pursued,
Though he may seek the wood, chased by his cruel foes,
Yet will he yield his life to hunters on the brink
Ere he will hide his head in the dark waters.
'Tis an uncanny place. Thence the surge swelleth up
Dark to the heavens above, when the wind stirreth oft
Terrible driving storms, till the air darkens,
The skies fall to weeping."

Then Hrothgar burst forth in uncontrollable emotion: "O Beowulf, help
us if thou canst! Help is only to be found in thee. But yet thou
knowest not the dangerous place thou must needs explore if thou seek
the fiend in her den. I will richly reward thy valour if thou
returnest alive from this hazardous journey."

Beowulf was touched by the sorrow of the grey-haired king, and
replied:

"Grieve not, O prudent King! Better it is for each
That he avenge his friend, than that he mourn him much.
Each man must undergo death at the end of life.
Let him win while he may warlike fame in the world!
That is best after death for the slain warrior."

"Arise, my lord; let us scan the track left by the monster, for I
promise thee I will never lose it, wheresoever it may lead me. Only
have patience yet for this one day of misery, as I am sure thou wilt."

Hrothgar sprang up joyously, almost youthfully, and ordered his horse
to be saddled; then, with Beowulf beside him, and a mixed throng of
Geats and Danes following, he rode away towards the home of the
monsters, the dread lake which all men shunned. The blood-stained
tracks were easy to see, and the avengers moved on swiftly till they
came to the edge of the mere, and there, with grief and horror, saw
the head of Aschere lying on the bank.

[Illustration: Beowulf finds the head of Aschere]

"The lake boiled with blood, with hot welling gore;
The warriors gazed awe-struck, and the dread horn sang
From time to time fiercely eager defiance.
The warri