Noble Beornfrith
I thank you for the chance to speak and here then
Is my Rede. Whatever course you take
I will remain at your back until you declare this war to be over
Well; sore, bitter tidings are these
Our King lost to us and so many kin
We all came here, far from our homes to serve
And we have fought as hard as we can
But we now must choose for ourselves
The best course
We might attack inland, perhaps to Ekethorp some say.
My advice is that we risk much by this and gain little that we can hold.
It gives me no joy to say so
But here, for this year, our cause is lost.
But nor do I feel ready to tamely sail away without honour
Too many friends and comrades have I left here for that!
Battle must be joined and this vile collection of sorcerers
Taught one more lesson
To me that must be to hurt their prideful ships
to leave them hearing our anger
“We are the Geats! These death-blows on you are our vengeance for Wiglaf”
As they spin overboard and down to the realms of Ran
Already our fleet has shown them our steel, our skill. They liked it not!
Now healed, reinforced, have the chance to make even harder havoc.
And show King Wiglaf
As he looks down from the mead-hall of Tiw
If we cannot match the brave manner of his passing
It was not for want of trying
And this, here, we Brimwisas beg you will accept