* * * * *

on that island; the vessels stand by the beach, enringed by the flood.
The weary-hearted sailors then encamp, dreaming not of peril.

On the island they start a fire, kindle a mounting flame. The dispirited
heroes, eager for repose, are flushed with joy. Now when the cunning
plotter feels that the seamen are firmly established upon him, and have
settled down to enjoy the weather, the guest of ocean sinks without
warning into the salt wave with his prey (?), and makes for the bottom,
thus whelming ships and men in that abode of death.

Such is the way of demons, the wont of devils: they spend their lives in
outwitting men by their secret power, inciting them to the corruption of
good deeds, misguiding

* * * * *

frōfre tō fēondum, oþþæt hy fæste ðǣr
æt þām wǣrlogan wīc gecēosað.
Þonne þæt gecnāweð of cwicsūsle
flāh fēond gemāh, þætte fīra gehwylc
40 hæleþa cynnes on his hringe biþ
fæste gefēged, hē him feorgbona,
þurh slīþen searo, siþþan weorþeð,
wloncum and hēanum þe his willan hēr
firenum fremmað; mid þām hē fǣringa,
45 heoloþhelme biþeaht, helle sēceð,
gōda gēasne, grundlēasne wylm
under mistglōme, swā se micla hwæl