That wight dyed with all evil-deeds, the doom mickle, For what wise to him the bright Maker will write it. Then a silenter man was the son there of Ecglaf 980 In the speech of the boasting of works of the battle, After when every atheling by craft of the earl Over the high roof had look'd on the hand there, Yea, the fiend's fingers before his own eyen, Each one of the nail-steads most like unto steel, Hand-spur of the heathen one; yea, the own claw Uncouth of the war-wight. But each one there quoth it, That no iron of the best, of the hardy of folk, Would touch him at all, which e'er of the monster The battle-hand bloody might bear away thence. 990 XVI. HROTHGAR GIVETH GIFTS TO BEOWULF. Then was speedily bidden that Hart be withinward By hand of man well adorn'd; was there a many Of warriors and wives, who straightway that wine-house The guest-house, bedight them: there gold-shotten shone The webs over the walls, many wonders to look on For men every one who on such things will stare. Was that building the bright all broken about All withinward, though fast in the bands of the iron; Asunder the hinges rent, only the roof there Was saved all sound, when the monster of evil 1000 The guilty of crime-deeds had gat him to flight Never hoping for life. Nay, lightly now may not That matter be fled from, frame it whoso may frame it. But by strife man shall win of the bearers of souls, Of the children of men, compelled by need, The abiders on earth, the place made all ready, The stead where his body laid fast on his death-bed Shall sleep after feast. Now time and place was it When unto the hall went that Healfdene's son, And the King himself therein the feast should be sharing; 1010 Never heard I of men-folk in fellowship more About their wealth-giver so well themselves bearing. Then bow'd unto bench there the abounders in riches And were fain of their fill. Full fairly there took A many of mead-cups the kin of those men, The sturdy of heart in the hall high aloft, Hrothgar and Hrothulf. Hart there withinward Of friends was fulfilled; naught there that was guilesome The folk of the Scyldings for yet awhile framed. Gave then to Beowulf Healfdene's bairn 1020 A golden war-ensign, the victory's guerdon, A staff-banner fair-dight, a helm and a byrny: The great jewel-sword a many men saw them Bear forth to the hero. Then Beowulf took The cup on the floor, and nowise of that fee-gift Before the shaft-shooters the shame need he have. Never heard I how friendlier four of the treasures, All gear'd with the gold about, many men erewhile On the ale-bench have given to others of men. Round the roof of the helm, the burg of the head, 1030 A wale wound with wires held ward from without-ward, So that the file-leavings might not over fiercely,