Will bear me off bleeding, biting and mouthing me,
The hermit will eat me, heedless of pity,
Marking the moor-fens; no more wilt thou need then
Find me my food.[7] If I fall in the battle,
Send to Higelac the armor that serveth
To shield my bosom, the best of equipments,
Richest of ring-mails; ’tis the relic of Hrethla,
The work of Wayland. Goes Weird as she must go!”
[1] Some render ‘gif-sceattas’ by ‘tribute.’—‘Géata’ B. and Th. emended to ‘Géatum.’ If this be accepted, change ‘of the Geatmen’ to ‘to the Geatmen.’
[2] If t.B.’s emendation of vv. 386, 387 be accepted, the two lines, ‘Hasten … kinsmen’ will read: Hasten thou, bid the throng of kinsmen go into the hall together.