Nor the belovèd liegeman to lay on the pyre;
She the corpse had offcarried in the clutch of the foeman[2]
’Neath mountain-brook’s flood. To Hrothgar ’twas saddest
Of pains that ever had preyed on the chieftain;
By the life of thee the land-prince then me[3]
Besought very sadly, in sea-currents’ eddies
To display my prowess, to peril my safety,
Might-deeds accomplish; much did he promise.
I found then the famous flood-current’s cruel,
Horrible depth-warder. A while unto us two