Beowulf 1

The bane of the race of men roamed forth, hunting for a prey in the high hall (Heaney 49).

Suddenly then the God-cursed brute was creating havoc greedy and grim, he grabbed thirty men from their resting places and rushed to his lair, flushed up and inflamed from the raid, blundering back with the butchered corpses (Heaney 11).

He was overwhelmed, manacled tight by the man who of all men was foremost and strongest in the days of this life (Heaney 53).

There was less tampering and big talk then from Unferth the boaster, less of his blather as the hall-thanes eyed the awful proof of the hero's prowess, the splayed hand up under the eaves (Heaney 65).

The man who had lately landed among them, proud and sure, had purged the hall, kept it from harm; he was happy with his nightwork and the courage he shown (Heaney 55).

But now his mother had sallied forth on a savage journey, grief-racked and ravenous, desperate for revenge (Heaney 89).

There were high times on the hall benches and the king's poet performed his part with the saga of Finn and his sons, unfolding the tale of the fierce attack in Friesland where Hnaef, king of the Danes, met death (Heaney 71).

There was Shield Sheafson, scourge of many tribes, a wrecker of mead-benches, rampaging among foes (Heaney 3).

Venturing closer, his talon was raised to attack Beowulf where he lay on the bed; he was bearing in with open claw when the alert hero's comeback and armlock forestalled him utterly (Heaney 51).

Then an extraordinary wail arose, and bewildering fear came over the Danes (Heaney 53).