"Often have my heroes, when inspired by the cup, resolved to wait in the festive hall, well armed and bold, dark Grendel's coming. Alas! at dawn of day this hall of mead, this royal palace was stained with blood, all its benches horrible with the stiffened gore." He invited the heroes to be seated at the festive board,-the never-failing enjoyment of all the Germanic chiefs. The palace of every king in his "mead-hall," and of his liberality in other respects, we may form an idea from his being significantly called " the giver of bracelets." Cantos VIII. and IX. are very characteristic of the times; while the nobles were at table, before the monarch joined them, Hunferth, a minister of Hrothgar, already jealous of Beowulf's favour with his master, taunts the hero with his piratical exploits, —a profession which was fortunately becoming disreputable, even to the savage Scandinavians, and tells him that, if he dare to engage the Grendel, he may bid adieu to light and life. Beowulf receives the taunt in good humour ; ascribes it to the mead cup; and, to diminish the rashness of the projected enterprise, relates some marvellous deeds which he had accomplished. In the midst of the debate, the king enters, accompanied by his queen Wealtheowa. "She, encircled with gold, mindful of her high descent, greeted the warrior in the hall; the royal lady gave the cup to the noblest of the East Danes." She praised her guest as she graciously presented the mead, and expressed her gratitude to Heaven that a warrior was arrived from whom such things were to be hoped. Beowulf replied to her courtesy, and asserted his resolution of engaging in the combat: she then proceeded smiling to her seat by the side of her royal husband; the cup continued to flow, the song to arise, the revelry to increase, until Hrothgar, who, though a barbarian, was not unmindful of the decorum becoming his station, arose, committed to Beowulf the defence of his palace during the night, and retired to rest. Canto X.-Beowulf now disarms, delivers his mail, helmet and sword to an attendant, with the ex

pression of his conviction that they could be of no use to him, and laid himself down to rest, in the midst of his friends. They seem at first to have been terribly alarmed, that this Grendel would surprise them, and that they should see their country no more; but in a little while sleep was more powerful than apprehension, and all were buried in unconsciousness, save one.

Canto XI. introduces us to this mysterious being: we attempt the scene in blank verse, prose being scarcely admissible here.

Over the moor, beneath his misty hills

The Grendel stalk'd, — the fiend by heaven accursed!
And well he hoped, this foe to human-kind,

Within that lofty hall to seize his victims.

In darkness wrapt, the silent fiend approach'd,
Until that festive hall, that golden seat

Of high-born warriors, rich with goblets strewn,
Before him lay. Nor this the only time

That he the courts of princely Hrothgar sought.

But never in the days of yore had he

Leaders more brave, or thanes more dauntless found
Than in that hall reposed.

Onward he stalk'd,

That being joyless. Swift the wrathful fiend
With arm of might the massive bulwarks rent,
That vainly stopt his entrance. O'er the floor

With shining stones resplendent strode the fiend;
Dark was his mood, and terrible the flame,
Which from his lurid eyeballs flash'd around.
Many the sleepers in that festive hall,

By friendship, or by nearer kindred join'd:
Great was the demon's joy; for well he thought,
That prowler awful, ere the morning dawn'd
Of each the soul and frame to rend asunder.
Grim was his smile, to see the banquet spread,
It seem'd as if, obedient to his wish,
Fortune that night so many victims sent
To please his gory tooth.

In purpose firm

Higlac's brave kinsman watch'd; and much he mused

How he within his sudden grasp might close

The hated foe. Nor sluggish was the Grendel ;

In former visits little had it cost

To seize his sleeping victims, and their bones
To crush exultingly, while from the veins
The purple current stream'd. But of the limbs
Lifeless and mangled, feet and hands alone
Became his horrid repast.

Near he drew,

And with his hands the waking chieftain seized,
On couch reclined. But swifter rose the thane,
And in his sudden grasp, the demon dash'd
Against the floor resplendent. Sore dismay'd,
The Grendel felt that in his wanderings
Throughout the regions of the middle earth,
Never had stronger man his grasp assail'd.
In terror sudden, much the monster wish'd
To flee precipitate; in darkness wrapt,
To seek the shelter of his demon home." *

But the monster was not allowed thus easily to escape; he was still grappled by Beowulf, and though he often eluded the grasp, which was certainly one of iron, since it left strange marks on his flesh, he could not for some time escape from the hall. The conflict between the two combatants was so fierce, that the poet wonders how the hall could bear the concussion; it must have fallen, he says, had it not been firmly girt around with iron; the sounds raised by the demon reached even the wardens on the castle wall, "" who dreaded much to hear the howling of the enemy." "No sounds of triumph they, raised by the captive of hell, as he felt the iron grasp of the strongest of mankind." Canto XII.-" At length the demon's body bore marks of the conflict; his shoulder presented a ghastly wound, his limbs were loosed, his joints forced from their

Thorkelin, Beowulf, p. 36-56. Saxon text in Conybeare, p. 96-101. If the reader will open the translations of Turner and Taylor, he will be surprised at their difference from the one above. The former evidently gave the poem a very hasty glance; the latter has scarcely comprehended any part of it. But who will detract from Mr. Turner's merits as a Saxon scholar? What student does not owe him a debt of gratitude? The poem is a very obscure one-so indeed are all the Saxon poems-nor should we have had courage to venture on a new analysis from Thorkelin's edition alone. To Mr Conybeare is the world obliged for the first intelligible view of this curious relic. How came Mr. Taylor to publish his very inaccurate one four years after the appearance of Mr. Conybeare's?

sockets. At length, too, he was able to seek his joyless home, the morasses of the mountain;" but sorrowfully he fled, "for well he knew that his end was near.' If indeed we understand the passage right, he appears to have left one arm behind him, which Beowulf preserved as a trophy of his victory.*

Canto

The next six cantos are chiefly occupied with the rejoicings of Hrothgar's court, on the defeat of the Grendel, in the firm persuasion that he would return no more, and on the rewards lavishly bestowed on the victor. Over these festive scenes, adorned by the neverfailing accompaniments, the bardic song and the mead cup, we take a spring; they are every where much the same, from Homer's days to Beowulf's; enlivened some times, indeed, by the digression of the poet's song, but in the present case that episode is so obscure - relating apparently to a successful expedition once undertaken against the Finns - - that we willingly leave it. . XIX. introduces us to another demon,- a female this time, the mother of Grendel, who, eager to revenge the death of her son, stalks at midnight into the hall to glut herself with victims. But her power was inferior to her son's though Beowulf was not sleeping there, the warriors seized their arms and put her to flight. The old lady, however, resolved to do some mischief, carries bodily off Eschere, one of Hrothgar's favourite thanes. Canto XX.-The next morning we have another picture of the king's grief, who refuses to hear of consolation, until Beowulf engages to storm the monster's den, to kill both. (he could not know that Grendel was dead), and thus rid his royal friend of all future apprehension, or else perish in the attempt. Hrothgar tells

:

him that the two demons had been seen roaming over the moors, and that their habitation was not far distant.

"There that foul spirit, howling as the wolves,
Holds, by the perilous passage of the fen,
Rude crag, and trackless steep, his dark abode ;

*Thorkelin's Beowulf. Conybeare's Saxon text, ubi supra.

Then from the headlong cliff rolls arrowy down
The fiery stream, whose wild and wondrous waves
The fragrant and fast-rooted wood o'erhangs,
Spreading them o'er, as with the warrior's helm.
There nightly may'st thou see a sight of dread,
The flood of living flame."

The place, too, was further defended by storm, and hurricane, and magic charm. Canto XXI.-But nothing could shake Beowulf, who sagely observed, that man must once die; that the time when was of very little consequence, provided he did such deeds as must be approved by Heaven. He swore that he would pursue the fiend to the deepest caverns of the earth, to the impenetrable shades of the forests, even to the depths of the ocean. The grateful Hrothgar orders a chosen band to be prepared, and, mounting his steed, conducts Beowulf towards the mysterious abode :·

"And now the heroes trod

The mountain pass, a steep and uncouth way,
By cliff and cavern'd rock that housed within
The monsters of the flood: before them sped
Four chosen guides, and track'd the uncertain road.
Now paused they where the pine-grove clad
The hoar rock's brow, a dark and joyless shade;
Troublous and blood-stain'd roll'd the stream below,
Sorrow and dread were on the Scylding's host,
In each man's breast deep working; for they saw
On that rude cliff, young Eschere's mangled head.
Now blew the signal horn, and the stout thanes
Address'd themselves to battle; for that strand
Was held by many a fell and uncouth foe,

Monster, and worm, and dragon, of the deep."*

There were other monsters besides Grendel and his mother, but not having the human form: these, which inhabited the lake, were destroyed, and dragged to the beach. It was evident that the old beldame fiend was in the depths of the abyss. But Beowulf remembered his promise, and he resolved to plunge into it. Being

These are Mr. Conybeare's lines, and we are afraid our unpractised attempts must look very simple beside them.