Another, who recklessly dispenses treasure, one who does not hold it in terror, seizes the warrior's ancient possessions. Beloved Beowulf, best of warriors, protect yourself against that wickedness and choose better, eternal councils. Now is your strength famous. . . for awhile. Soon after it shall happen that disease, or the sword's edge, shall cut off your strength. Or maybe the fire's embrace, or the flood's welling, or the grip of the sword, or the arrow's flight, or dire age. . .
Bright eyes do diminish and go dark.
Straightway death will overpower you, warrior. Thus I have ruled under the clouds the prosperous Danes a hundred half-years, and by war have protected them against many nations throughout this middle earth with spears and edges, so that under heaven's expanse I could think of no enemies. I have continually carried worry over that visitation. Go now to your seat, feast in joy, you who are distinguished in battle. We shall share a great many treasures before morning comes.