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A perilous path, it proved, he trod who heinously hid, that hall within, wealth under wall! Its watcher had killed one of a few, and the feud was avenged in woful fashion. Wondrous seems it, what manner a man of might and valor oft ends his life, when the earl no longer in mead-hall may live with loving friends. So Beowulf, when that barrow’s warden he sought, and the struggle; himself knew not in what wise he should wend from the world at last. For princes potent, who placed the gold, with a curse to doomsday covered it deep, so that marked with sin the man should be, hedged with horrors, in hell-bonds fast, racked with plagues, who should rob their hoard. Yet no greed for gold, but the grace of heaven, ever the king had kept in view. Wiglaf spake, the son of Weohstan:— “At the mandate of one, oft warriors many sorrow must suffer; and so must we. The people’s-shepherd showed not aught