Lines 2211–2515


Many such riches, treasures from ancient times, lay in that earth-house, an immense legacy of a noble nation…


The high, bold helmet, skillfully wrought with gold, will lose its gold plating, while those assigned to polish the war-masks have long departed in the sleep of death. So also the mail-coat, which came through fierce fighting, the sharp biting of blades, in the clashing of shields, decays like the warrior.


Then the monster began to spew forth flames, Burning bright dwellings; light from fires shot up, While the men watched in horror.


With courage I will win A reward of gold treasures, or your king will be torn Away from his people in a frightful slaughter.