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THE TALE OF BEOWULF
Until they betook them and sorrowfully therewith
Unto the Raven-holt, reft of their lord.
With huge host then beset he the leaving of swords
All weary with wounds, and woe he behight them,
That lot of the wretched, the livelong night through;
Quoth he that the morrow's morn with the swords' edges
He would do them to death, hang some on the gallows2939
For a game unto fowl. But again befell comfort
To the sorry of mood with the morrow-day early;
Whereas they of Hygelac's war-horn and trumpet
The voice wotted, whenas the good king his ways came
Faring on in the track of his folk's doughty men.
Unto the Raven-holt, reft of their lord.
With huge host then beset he the leaving of swords
All weary with wounds, and woe he behight them,
That lot of the wretched, the livelong night through;
Quoth he that the morrow's morn with the swords' edges
He would do them to death, hang some on the gallows2939
For a game unto fowl. But again befell comfort
To the sorry of mood with the morrow-day early;
Whereas they of Hygelac's war-horn and trumpet
The voice wotted, whenas the good king his ways came
Faring on in the track of his folk's doughty men.
XLI. MORE WORDS OF THE MESSENGER. HOW HE FEARS THE SWEDES WHEN THEY WOT OF BEOWULF DEAD.
WAS the track of the war-sweat of Swedes and of Geats,
The men's slaughter-race, right wide to be seen,
How those folks amongst them were waking the feud.
The men's slaughter-race, right wide to be seen,
How those folks amongst them were waking the feud.
