His booty and bracelets, his bright shining sword. Byrhtnoth snatched forth the brown-edged weapon From his sheath, and sharply shook the attacker; Certain of the seamen too soon joined against him, 165 As he checked the arm of the charging enemy; Now sank to the ground his golden brand; He might not hold the hilt of his mace, Nor wield his weapons. These words still he spoke, To embolden the youths; the battle-scarred hero 170 Called on his comrades to conquer their foes; He no longer had strength to stand on his feet, . . . . . . . . he looked to heaven: "Ruler of realms, I render thee thanks For all of the honors that on earth I have had; 175 Now, gracious God, have I greatest of need That thou save my soul through thy sovereign mercy, That my spirit speed to its splendid home And pass into thy power, O Prince of angels, And depart in peace; this prayer I make, 180 That the hated hell-fiends may harass me not." Then the heathen dogs hewed down the noble one, And both the barons that by him stood-- Aelfnoth and Wulfmaer each lay slaughtered; They lost their lives in their lord's defence. 185 Then fled from the fray those who feared to remain. First in the frantic flight was Godric, The son of Odda; he forsook his chief Who had granted him gifts of goodly horses; Lightly he leapt on his lord's own steed, 190 In its royal array --no right had he to it; His brothers also the battle forsook. Godwin and Godwy made good their escape, And went to the wood, for the war they disliked; They fled to the fastnesses in fear of their lives, 195 And many more of the men than was fitting, Had they freshly in mind remembered the favors, The good deeds he had done them in days of old. Wise were the words spoken once by Offa As he sat with his comrades assembled in council: 200 "There are many who boast in the mead-hall of bravery Who turn in terror when trouble comes." The chief of the folk now fell to his death, Aethelred's earl; all his companions Looked on their lord as he lay on the field. 205 Now there approached some proud retainers; The hardy heroes hastened madly, All of them eager either to die Or valiantly avenge their vanquished lord. They were eagerly urged by Aelfric's son, 210 A warrior young in winters; these words he spoke-- Aelfwine then spoke, an honorable speech: "Remember how we made in the mead-hall our vaunts, From the benches our boasts of bravery we raised, Heroes in the hall, of hard-fought battles;