That feud then thereafter with fee did I settle;

I sent to the Wylfing folk over the waters' back

Treasures of old time; he swore the oaths to me.

Sorrow is in my mind that needs must I say it

To any of grooms, of Grendel what hath he

Of shaming in Hart, and he with his hate-wiles

Of sudden harms framed; the host of my hall-floor,

The war-heap, is waned; Weird swept them away

Into horror of Grendel. It is God now that may lightly

The scather the doltish from deeds thrust aside.