dearly-wrought swords,
Rusty, through-eaten they, as in earth's bosom
A thousand of winters there they had wonned.
For that heritage there was, all craftily eked, 3050
Gold of the yore men, in wizardry wounden;
So that that ring-hall might none reach thereto,
Not any of mankind but if God his own self,
Sooth king of victories, gave unto whom he would
(He is holder of men) to open that hoard,
E'en to whichso of mankind should seem to him meet.

XLII. THEY GO TO LOOK ON THE FIELD OF DEED.

Then it was to be seen that throve not the way
To him that unrightly had hidden within there
The fair gear 'neath the wall. The warder erst slew
Some few of folk, and the feud then became 3060
Wrothfully wreaked. A wonder whenas
A valour-strong earl may reach on the ending
Of the fashion of life, when he longer in nowise
One man with his kinsmen may dwell in the mead-hall!
So to Beowulf was it when the burg's ward he sought.
For the hate of the weapons: he himself knew not
Wherethrough forsooth his world's sundering should be.
So until Doomsday they cursed it deeply,
Those princes the dread, who erst there had done it,
That that man should be of sins never sackless, 3070
A-hoppled in shrines, in hell-bonds fast set,
With plague-spots be punish'd, who that plain should plunder.
But naught gold-greedy was he, more gladly had he
The grace of the Owner erst gotten to see.
Now spake out Wiglaf, that son was of Weohstan:
Oft shall many an earl for the will but of one
Dree the wrack, as to us even now is befallen:
Nowise might we learn the lief lord of us,
The herd of the realm, any of rede,
That he should not go greet that warder of gold, 3080
But let him live yet, whereas long he was lying,
And wonne in his wicks until the world's ending;
But he held to high weird and the hoard hath been seen,
Grimly gotten: o'er hard forsooth was that giving,
That the king of the folk e'en thither enticed.
Lo! I was therein, and I look'd it all over,
The gear of the house, when for me room was gotten,
But I lightly in nowise had leave for the passage
In under the earth-wall; in haste I gat hold
Forsooth with my hands of a mickle main burden 3090
Of hoard-treasures, and hither then out did I bear them,
Out unto my king, and then quick was he yet,
Wise