’Neath the arch of the ether. Not any, however, ’Gainst the friend-lord muttered, mocking-words uttered Of Hrothgar the gracious (a good king he). Oft the famed ones permitted their fallow-skinned horses To run in rivalry, racing and chasing, Where the fieldways appeared to them fair and inviting, Known for their excellence; oft a thane of the folk-lord, A man of celebrity, mindful of rhythms, Who ancient traditions treasured in memory, New word-groups found properly bound: The bard after ’gan then Beowulf’s venture Wisely to tell of, and words that were clever To utter skilfully, earnestly speaking, Everything told he that he heard as to Sigmund’s Mighty achievements, many things hidden, The strife of the Waelsing, the wide-going ventures The children of men knew of but little, The feud and the fury, but Fitela with him, When suchlike matters he minded to speak of, Uncle to nephew, as in every contention Each to other was ever devoted: A numerous host of the race of the scathers