Beowulf is, an Anglo-Saxon poem set in pre-Christian Scandinavia. No one now doubts that it was composed by a poet thoroughly versed in Christian and biblical traditions, but whether its author had the same degree of knowledge of the background to his chosen subject matter - specifically, Scandinavian paganism - has been fiercely debated.1 And even if one is inclined to believe that the Beowulf-poet did have special knowledge of Scandinavian paganism,2 the thorny problem remains of whether this material represented part of the poet's cultural heritage - that is, that Beowulf is a relatively early poem steeped in traditions from the pre-Viking Age period, traditions perhaps shared by the ancestors of both the Anglo-Saxons and the Norse raiders - or whether the poet eagerly composed his ambitious epic under the influence of a wealth of new material brought to his notice by Scandinavian settlers later rather than earlier in the Anglo-Saxon period.3Since many of the characters and events in the poem feature in Old Norse-Icelandic literature, comparing the poem with these Scandinavian analogues, to see whether the poet's recreation of the pagan past matches what we find in these sources, might seem an obvious strategy. But relating Beowulf to Old Norse sources can only be done with the utmost caution, chiefly because most of the latter, at least in their written form, belong to a period centuries later than even the latest possible date for the composition of Beowulf. We cannot assume that late Old Norse-Icelandic texts themselves conserve without distortion or addition the traditions of an ancient Germanic past. In this article, I will begin by comparing the account in Beowulf of the accidental killing of Herebeald by his brother Hae[eth]cyn with Snorri Sturluson's celebrated thirteenth-century account of the killing of the god Baldr by his brother Ho[eth]r. This is an episode in Beowulf which might suggest that the poet did indeed have special knowledge of Old Norse mythology. There are, however, significant differences between the two stories. I shall argue that the differences between the two call into question not the Beowulf-poet's knowledge of Scandinavian traditions, but rather, Snorri's representation of them. As it happens, I do think it possible that the story in Beowulf oi how Hae[eth]cyn killed his brother is a reworking of the myth about the death of Baldr. But the main purpose of this article is not to establish this connection. It is rather to suggest that Snorri's account of the death of Baldr is not a straightforward rendition of earlier Norse traditions, but instead a careful patchwork of narrative elements from different sources. In other words, I shall argue that certain of the elements in Snorri's narrative, far from reflecting earlier native mythological material, may be later additions to the myth, and may themselves depend on Christian-Latin (and, ultimately, Jewish) traditions.4 And the details which cause Snorri's narrative to differ most strikingly from the Beowulfian version of events - thus constituting the case against a relationship between the poem and Scandinavian tradition - are precisely those which, I shall suggest, are non-native accretions to the myth.Towards the end of the poem, as he faces the final challenge of his career, the fight with the dragon, Beowulf casts his mind back to his childhood, reminiscing about his adoption, at the age of 7, by his grandfather Hrepel, king of the Geats. Beowulf recalls how Hrepel loved him no less than he loved his own sons - Herebeald, Hae[eth]cyn, and Hygelac - but moves at once to a much less happy memory:(There was for the eldest, unfittingly, a murderous deathbed made by the actions of a kinsman, when Hae[eth]cyn killed him, his lord and friend, with an arrow from a horn bow; he missed the target and shot dead his kinsman, one brother the other, with a bloody spear.)Beowulf goes on to explain the terrible position Hrepel now finds himself in: although he grieves for Hcrcbcald, he cannot possibly relieve his gtief by taking vengeance on his other son, even though he now has no love for Hae[eth]cyn. …