Ill-liking this may be to the lord of the Heathobards, And to each of the thanes of that same people. When he with fair bride on the floor of hall wendeth, That the Dane's noble bairn his doughty should wait on, As on him glisten there the heirlooms of the aged, Hard and with rings bedight, Heathobards' treasure, Whileas the weapons yet they might wield; Till astray did they lead there at the lind-play Their own fellows belov'd and their very own lives. 2040 For then saith at the beer, he who seeth the ring, An ancient ash-warrior who mindeth of all The spear-death of men; grim is he of mind; Sad of mood he beginneth to tell the young champion. Through the thought of his heart his mind there to try, The war-bale to waken, and sayeth this word: Mayest thou, friend mine, wot of the war-sword, That which thy father bore in the fight Under the war-mask e'en on the last time, That the dear iron, whereas the Danes slew him, 2050 Wielded the death-field, since Withergyld lay, After fall of the heroes, the keen-hearted Scyldings? Now here of those banesmen the son, whoseso he be, All merry in fretwork forth on floor fareth; Of the murder he boasteth, and that jewel he beareth, E'en that which of right thou shouldest arede. Thus he mindeth and maketh word every of times, With sore words he telleth, until the time cometh That the thane of the fair bride for the deeds of his father After bite of the bill sleepeth all blood-stain'd, 2060 All forfeit of life; but thenceforth the other Escapeth alive; the land well he kenneth; Then will be broken on both sides forsooth The oath-swearing of earls, whenas unto Ingeld Well up the death-hatreds, and the wife-loves of him Because of the care-wellings cooler become. Therefore the Heathobards' faith I account not, Their deal of the folk-peace, unguileful to Danes, Their fast-bounden friendship. Henceforth must I speak on Again about Grendel, that thou get well to know it, 2070 O treasure-out-dealer, how sithence betided The hand-race of heroes: sithence heaven's gem All over the grounds glided, came the wroth guest, The dire night-angry one us to go look on, Whereas we all sound were warding the hall. There then for Handshoe was battle abiding, Life-bale to the fey; he first lay alow, The war-champion girded; unto him became Grendel, To the great thane of kindreds, a banesman of mouth, Of the man well-beloved the body he swallow'd; 2080 Nor the sooner therefor out empty-handed The bloody-tooth'd banesman, of bales all bemindful, Out from that gold-hall yet would he get him; But he, mighty of main, made trial of me, And gripp'd ready-handed. His glove hung aloft, Wondrous and wide, in wily bands fast, With cunning wiles was it begeared forsooth, With crafts of the devils and fells of the dragons;