Came a many to flood then all mighty of mood, Of the bachelors were they, and ring-nets they bore, The limb-sarks belocked. The land-warden noted 1890 The earls' aback-faring, as erst he beheld them; Then nowise with harm from the nose of the cliff The guests there he greeted, but rode unto themward, And quoth that full welcome to the folk of the Weders The bright-coated warriors were wending to ship. Then was on the sand there the bark the wide-sided With war-weed beladen, the ring-stemm'd as she lay there With mares and with treasure; uptower'd the mast High over Hrothgar's wealth of the hoards. He then to the boat-warden handsel'd a gold-bounden 1900 Sword, so that sithence was he on mead-bench Worthy'd the more for that very same wealth, The heirloom. Sithence in the ship he departed To stir the deep water; the Dane-land he left. Then was by the mast there one of the sea-rails, A sail, with rope made fast; thunder'd the sound-wood. Not there the wave-floater did the wind o'er the billows Waft off from its ways; the sea-wender fared, Floated the foamy-neck'd forth o'er the waves, The bounden-stemm'd over the streams of the sea; 1910 Till the cliffs of the Geats there they gat them to wit, The nesses well kenned. Throng'd up the keel then Driven hard by the lift, and stood on the land. Then speedy at holm was the hythe-warden yare, E'en he who a long while after the lief men Eager at stream's side far off had looked. To the sand thereon bound he the wide-fathom'd ship With anchor-bands fast, lest from them the waves' might The wood that was winsome should drive thence awayward. Thereon bade he upbear the athelings' treasures, 1920 The fretwork and wrought gold. Not far from them thenceforth To seek to the giver of treasures it was, E'en Hygelac, Hrethel's son, where at home wonneth Himself and his fellows hard by the sea-wall. Brave was the builded house, bold king the lord was, High were the walls, Hygd very young, Wise and well-thriven, though few of winters Under the burg-locks had she abided, The daughter of Haereth; naught was she dastard; Nowise niggard of gifts to the folk of the Geats, 1930 Of wealth of the treasures. But wrath Thrytho bore, The folk-queen the fierce, wrought the crime-deed full fearful. No one there durst it, the bold one, to dare, Of the comrades beloved, save only her lord, That on her by day with eyen he stare, But if to him death-bonds predestin'd he count on, Hand-wreathed; thereafter all rathely it was After the hand-grip the sword-blade appointed, That the cunning-wrought sword should show forth the deed, Make known the murder-bale. Naught is such queenlike 1940 For a woman to handle, though peerless she be, That a weaver of peace the life should waylay, For a shame that was lying, of a lief man of men;