For no cause whatever would the earlmen’s defender Leave in life-joys the loathsome newcomer, He deemed his existence utterly useless To men under heaven. Many a noble Of Beowulf brandished his battle-sword old, Would guard the life of his lord and protector, The far-famous chieftain, if able to do so; While waging the warfare, this wist they but little, Brave battle-thanes, while his body intending To slit into slivers, and seeking his spirit: That the relentless foeman nor finest of weapons Of all on the earth, nor any of war-bills Was willing to injure; but weapons of victory Swords and suchlike he had sworn to dispense with. His death at that time must prove to be wretched, And the faraway spirit widely should journey Into enemies’ power. This plainly he saw then Who with mirth of mood malice no little Had wrought in the past on the race of the earthmen (To God he was hostile), that his body would fail him, But Higelac’s hardy henchman and kinsman Held him by the hand; hateful to other Was each one if living. A body-wound suffered The direful demon, damage incurable