The highway glistened with many-hued pebble, A by-path led the liegemen together. Firm and hand-locked the war-burnie glistened, The ring-sword radiant rang ’mid the armor As the party was approaching the palace together In warlike equipments. ’Gainst the wall of the building Their wide-fashioned war-shields they weary did set then, Battle-shields sturdy; benchward they turned then; Their battle-sarks 12 rattled, the gear of the heroes; The lances stood up then, all in a cluster, The arms of the seamen, ashen-shafts mounted With edges of iron: the armor-clad troopers Were decked with weapons. Then a proud-mooded hero Asked of the champions questions of lineage: “From what borders bear ye your battle-shields plated, Gilded and gleaming, your gray-colored burnies, Helmets with visors and heap of war-lances?⁠— To Hrothgar the king I am servant and liegeman. ’Mong folk from far-lands found I have never Men so many of mien more courageous. I ween that from valor, nowise as outlaws,