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                        “UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed
                        by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails
                        from foul behest of the hellish fiend.
                        Him seems too little what long he possessed.
                        Greedy and grim, no golden rings
                        he gives for his pride; the promised future
                        forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him,
                        Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.
                        Yet in the end it ever comes
                        that the frame of the body fragile yields,
                        fated falls; and there follows another
                        who joyously the jewels divides,
                        the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear.
                        Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf
                            dearest,
                        best of men, and the better part choose,
                        profit eternal; and temper thy pride,
                        warrior famous! The flower of thy might
                        lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be
                        that sickness or sword thy strength shall
                            minish,
                        or fang of fire, or flooding billow,
                        or bite of blade, or brandished spear,
                        or odious age; or the eyes’ clear beam
                        wax dull and darken: Death even thee
                        in haste shall o’erwhelm, thou hero of war!
                        So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I
                            ruled,
                        wielded ’neath welkin, and warded them bravely
                        from mighty-ones many o’er middle-earth,
                        from spear and sword, till it seemed for me
                        no foe could be found under fold of the sky.
                        Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure
                        came grief for joy when Grendel began
                        to harry my home, the hellish foe;
                        for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered
                        heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked,
                        Lord Eternal, for life extended
                        that I on this head all hewn and bloody,
                        after long evil, with eyes may gaze!
                        —Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet,
                        warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure
                        at dawn of day, be dealt between us!”
                        Glad was the Geats’ lord, going betimes
                        to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded.
                        Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle,
                        for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight
                        nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened
                        dusk o’er the drinkers.
                        The doughty ones rose:
                        for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest,
                        aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,
                        shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.
                        Him wander-weary, warrior-guest
                        from far, a hall-thane heralded forth,
                        who by custom courtly cared for all
                        needs of a thane as in those old days
                        warrior-wanderers wont to have.
                        So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall
                        rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on
                        till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven
                        blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying
                        shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened,
                        athelings all were eager homeward
                        forth to fare; and far from thence
                        the great-hearted guest would guide his keel.
                        Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought
                        to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take,
                        excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it,
                        quoth that he counted it keen in battle,
                        “war-friend” winsome: with words he slandered
                            not
                        edge of the blade: ’twas a big-hearted man!
                        Now eager for parting and armed at point
                        warriors waited, while went to his host
                        that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling
                        to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.
                    
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                        “UNDER harness his heart then is hit indeed
                        by sharpest shafts; and no shelter avails
                        from foul behest of the hellish fiend.
                        Him seems too little what long he possessed.
                        Greedy and grim, no golden rings
                        he gives for his pride; the promised future
                        forgets he and spurns, with all God has sent him,
                        Wonder-Wielder, of wealth and fame.
                        Yet in the end it ever comes
                        that the frame of the body fragile yields,
                        fated falls; and there follows another
                        who joyously the jewels divides,
                        the royal riches, nor recks of his forebear.
                        Ban, then, such baleful thoughts, Beowulf
                            dearest,
                        best of men, and the better part choose,
                        profit eternal; and temper thy pride,
                        warrior famous! The flower of thy might
                        lasts now a while: but erelong it shall be
                        that sickness or sword thy strength shall
                            minish,
                        or fang of fire, or flooding billow,
                        or bite of blade, or brandished spear,
                        or odious age; or the eyes’ clear beam
                        wax dull and darken: Death even thee
                        in haste shall o’erwhelm, thou hero of war!
                        So the Ring-Danes these half-years a hundred I
                            ruled,
                        wielded ’neath welkin, and warded them bravely
                        from mighty-ones many o’er middle-earth,
                        from spear and sword, till it seemed for me
                        no foe could be found under fold of the sky.
                        Lo, sudden the shift! To me seated secure
                        came grief for joy when Grendel began
                        to harry my home, the hellish foe;
                        for those ruthless raids, unresting I suffered
                        heart-sorrow heavy. Heaven be thanked,
                        Lord Eternal, for life extended
                        that I on this head all hewn and bloody,
                        after long evil, with eyes may gaze!
                        —Go to the bench now! Be glad at banquet,
                        warrior worthy! A wealth of treasure
                        at dawn of day, be dealt between us!”
                        Glad was the Geats’ lord, going betimes
                        to seek his seat, as the Sage commanded.
                        Afresh, as before, for the famed-in-battle,
                        for the band of the hall, was a banquet dight
                        nobly anew. The Night-Helm darkened
                        dusk o’er the drinkers.
                        The doughty ones rose:
                        for the hoary-headed would hasten to rest,
                        aged Scylding; and eager the Geat,
                        shield-fighter sturdy, for sleeping yearned.
                        Him wander-weary, warrior-guest
                        from far, a hall-thane heralded forth,
                        who by custom courtly cared for all
                        needs of a thane as in those old days
                        warrior-wanderers wont to have.
                        So slumbered the stout-heart. Stately the hall
                        rose gabled and gilt where the guest slept on
                        till a raven black the rapture-of-heaven
                        blithe-heart boded. Bright came flying
                        shine after shadow. The swordsmen hastened,
                        athelings all were eager homeward
                        forth to fare; and far from thence
                        the great-hearted guest would guide his keel.
                        Bade then the hardy-one Hrunting be brought
                        to the son of Ecglaf, the sword bade him take,
                        excellent iron, and uttered his thanks for it,
                        quoth that he counted it keen in battle,
                        “war-friend” winsome: with words he slandered
                            not
                        edge of the blade: ’twas a big-hearted man!
                        Now eager for parting and armed at point
                        warriors waited, while went to his host
                        that Darling of Danes. The doughty atheling
                        to high-seat hastened and Hrothgar greeted.
                    
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