So care that was time-long the kinsman of Healfdene Still seeth'd without ceasing, nor might the wise warrior 190 Wend otherwhere woe, for o'er strong was the strife All loathly so longsome late laid on the people, Need-wrack and grim nithing, of night-bales the greatest. Now that from his home heard the Hygelac's thane, Good midst of the Geat-folk; of Grendel's deeds heard he. But he was of mankind of might and main mightiest In the day that we tell of, the day of this life, All noble, strong-waxen. He bade a wave-wearer Right good to be gear'd him, and quoth he that the war-king Over the swan-road he would be seeking, 200 The folk-lord far-famed, since lack of men had he. Forsooth of that faring the carles wiser-fashion'd Laid little blame on him, though lief to them was he; The heart-hardy whetted they, heeded the omen. There had the good one, e'en he of the Geat-folk, Champions out-chosen of them that he keenest Might find for his needs; and he then the fifteenth, Sought to the sound-wood. A swain thereon show'd him, A sea-crafty man, all the make of the land-marks. Wore then a while, on the waves was the floater, 210 The boat under the berg, and yare then the warriors Strode up on the stem; the streams were a-winding The sea 'gainst the sands. Upbore the swains then Up into the bark's barm the bright-fretted weapons, The war-array stately; then out the lads shov'd her, The folk on the welcome way shov'd out the wood-bound. Then by the wind driven out o'er the wave-holm Far'd the foamy-neck'd floater most like to a fowl, Till when was the same tide of the second day's wearing The wound-about-stemm'd one had waded her way, 220 So that then they that sail'd her had sight of the land, Bleak shine of the sea-cliffs, bergs steep up above, Sea-nesses wide reaching; the sound was won over, The sea-way was ended: then up ashore swiftly The band of the Weder-folk up on earth wended; They bound up the sea-wood, their sarks on them rattled, Their weed of the battle, and God there they thanked For that easy the wave-ways were waxen unto them. But now from the wall saw the Scylding-folks' warder, E'en he whom the holm-cliffs should ever be holding, 230 Men bear o'er the gangway the bright shields a-shining, Folk-host gear all ready. Then mind-longing wore him, And stirr'd up his mood to wot who were the men-folk. So shoreward down far'd he his fair steed a-riding, Hrothgar's Thane, and full strongly then set he a-quaking The stark wood in his hands, and in council-speech speer'd he: What men be ye then of them that have war-gear, With byrnies bewarded, who the keel high up-builded Over the Lake-street thus have come leading. Hither o'er holm-ways hieing in ring-stem? 240 End-sitter was I, a-holding the sea-ward,