The chief of the strangers rendered him answer, War-troopers’ leader, and word-treasure opened: “We are sprung from the lineage of the people of Geatland, And Higelac’s hearth-friends. To heroes unnumbered My father was known, a noble head-warrior Ecgtheow titled; many a winter He lived with the people, ere he passed on his journey, Old from his dwelling; each of the counsellors Widely mid world-folk well remembers him. We, kindly of spirit, the lord of thy people, The son of King Healfdene, have come here to visit, Folk-troop’s defender: be free in thy counsels! To the noble one bear we a weighty commission, The helm of the Danemen; we shall hide, I ween, Naught of our message. Thou know’st if it happen, As we soothly heard say, that some savage despoiler, Some hidden pursuer, on nights that are murky By deeds very direful ’mid the Danemen exhibits Hatred unheard of, horrid destruction And the falling of dead. From feelings least selfish I am able to render counsel to Hrothgar, How he, wise and worthy, may worst the destroyer, If the anguish of sorrow should ever be lessened,