finest gold. [Footnote 1: See Guerber's Myths of Northern Lands, p. 127.]

"'Wear these,' she cried, 'since thou hast in the fight
So borne thyself, that wide as ocean rolls
Round our wind-beaten cliffs his brimming waves,
All gallant souls shall speak thy eulogy.'"
_Beowulf_ (Conybeare's tr.).

When the banquet was ended, Hrothgar escorted his guests to more pleasant
sleeping apartments than they had occupied the night before, leaving his
own men to guard the hall, where Grendel would never again appear. The
warriors, fearing no danger, slept in peace; but in the dead of night the
mother of the giant, as grewsome and uncanny a monster as he, glided into
the hall, secured the bloody trophy still hanging from the ceiling, and
carried it away, together with Aeschere (Askher), the king's bosom friend.

When Hrothgar learned this new loss at early dawn he was overcome with
grief; and when Beowulf, attracted by the sound of weeping, appeared at his
side, he mournfully told him of his irretrievable loss.

"'Ask not after happiness;
Sorrow is renewed
To the Danes' people.
Aeschere is dead,
Yrmenlaf's
Elder brother,
The partaker of my secrets
And my counselor,
Who stood at my elbow
When we in battle