or death shall take me."

Beowulf dived downward, as it seemed to him, for the space of a day
ere he could perceive the floor of that sinister lake, and all that
time he had to fight the sea-beasts, for they, attacking him with tusk
and horn, strove to break his ring-mail, but in vain. As Beowulf came
near the bottom he felt himself seized in long, scaly arms of gigantic
strength. The fierce claws of the wolfish sea-woman strove eagerly to
reach his heart through his mail, but in vain; so the she-wolf of the
waters, a being awful and loathsome, bore him to her abode, rushing
through thick clusters of horrible sea-beasts.

"The hero now noticed he was in some hostile hall,
Where him the water-stream no whit might injure,
Nor for the sheltering roof the rush of the raging flood
Ever could touch him. He saw the strange flickering flame,
Weird lights in the water, shining with livid sheen:
He saw, too, the ocean-wolf, the hateful sea-woman."

Terrible and almost superhuman was the contest which now followed: the
awful sea-woman flung Beowulf down on his back and stabbed at him with
point and edge of her broad knife, seeking some vulnerable point; but
the good corslet resisted all her efforts, and Beowulf, exerting his
mighty force, overthrew her and sprang to his feet. Angered beyond
measure, he brandished the flaming sword Hrunting, and flashed one
great blow at her head which would have killed her had her scales and
hair been vulnerable; but alas! the edge of the blade turned on her
scaly hide, and the blow failed. Wrathfully Beowulf cast aside the
useless sword, and determined to trust once again to his hand-grip.
Grendel's mother now felt, in her turn, the deadly power of Beowulf's
grasp, and was borne to the ground; but the struggle continued long,
for Beowulf was weaponless, since the sword failed in its work. Yet
some weapon he must have.

"So he gazed at the walls, saw there a glorious sword,
An old brand gigantic, trusty in point and edge,
An heirloom of heroes; that was the best of blades,
Splendid and stately, the forging of giants;
But it was huger than any of human race
Could bear to battle-strife, save Beowulf only."

This mighty sword, a relic of earlier and greater races, brought new
hope to Beowulf. Springing up, he snatched it from the wall and swung
it fiercely round his head. The blow fell with crushing force on