The hoard-ward distinguished the speech of a man; Time was no longer to look out for friendship. The breath of the monster issued forth first, Vapory war-sweat, out of the stone-cave: The earth re-echoed. The earl ’neath the barrow Lifted his shield, lord of the Geatmen, Tow’rd the terrible stranger: the ring-twisted creature’s Heart was then ready to seek for a struggle. The excellent battle-king first brandished his weapon, The ancient heirloom, of edges unblunted, To the death-planners twain was terror from other. The lord of the troopers intrepidly stood then ’Gainst his high-rising shield, when the dragon coiled him Quickly together: in corslet he bided. He went then in blazes, bended and striding, Hasting him forward. His life and body The targe well protected, for time-period shorter Than wish demanded for the well-renowned leader, Where he then for the first day was forced to be victor, Famous in battle, as Fate had not willed it. The lord of the Geatmen uplifted his hand then,