For the Victory-Scyldings of sorrow had framed,
And misery for ever; but all that I awreaked,
So that needeth not boast any kinsman of Grendel
Any one upon earth of that uproar of dawn-dusk,
Nay not who lives longest of that kindred the loathly
Encompass'd of fenland. Thither first did I come
Unto that ring-hall Hrothgar to greet;
Soon unto me the great Healfdene's son,
So soon as my heart he was wotting forsooth.
Right against his own son a settle there showed.