I hear it thus said that this host here is friendly
To the lord of the Scyldings; forth fare ye then, bearing
Your weed and your weapons, of the way will I wise you;
Likewise mine own kinsmen I will now be bidding
Against every foeman your floater before us,
Your craft but new-tarred, the keel on the sand,
With honour to hold, until back shall be bearing
Over the lake-streams this one, the lief man,
The wood of the wounden-neck back unto Wedermark.
Unto such shall be granted amongst the good-doers