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Out of the marsh, Grendel came, hoping to kill anyone he could trap on this trip to high Herot.
He journeyed, forever joyless, straight to the door, tore its iron fasteners with a touch, and rushed angrily over the threshold.
Grendel snatched at the first Geat he came to, ripped him apart, cut his body to bits with powerful jaws, drank the blood from his veins and bolted him down.
The infamous killer fought for his freedom, wanting no flesh but retreat, desiring nothing but escape; his claws had been trapped.
In the mornning, crowds surrounded Herot, warriors coming to that hall from faraway lands, princes and leaders of men hurrying to behold the monster's great staggering tracks.
Grendel's monstrous mother, in grief for her son, next attacks Herot, and in her dripping claws she carries off one man, Hrothgar's clostest friend and Grendel's arm.
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