Now shall taking of treasures and giving of swords
And all joy of your country-home fail from your kindred,
All hope wane away; of the land-right moreover
May each of the men of that kinsman's [burg] ever
Roam lacking; sithence that the athelings eft-soons
From afar shall have heard of your faring in flight,
Your gloryless deed. Yea, death shall be better
For each of the earls than a life ever ill-fam'd.
[ XL. WIGLAF SENDETH TIDING TO THE HOST: THE WORDS OF THE MESSENGER.]
Then he bade them that war-work give out at the barriers