Then she sprang upon him, and seized him, and dragged him down, and he found himself in a sort of hall under the water, with a pale strange light in it.

And then he turned from the horrible water-wolf and raised his sword and struck her on the head; but his blow did her no harm.

No sword made by mortal men could harm Grendel or his mother; and as he struck her Beowulf stumbled and fell.

Then the water-wolf rushed forward and sat upon him as he lay there, and raised aloft her own sharp dagger to drive it into his breast; but Beowulf shook her off, and sprang up, and there, on the wall, he saw hanging a strange old sword that had been made in the old times, long, long ago, when the world was full of giants.

So he threw his own sword aside and took down the old sword, and once more he smote the water-wolf.