Then the Fiend began to belch forth fire, and to burn up the glorious
palace. And the flames thereof were a horror to men. Nor would the
loathly air-flier leave aught living thereabouts. And this warfare
of the dragon was seen far and wide by men, this striving of the foe
who caused dire distress, and how the war-scather hated and harmed
the people of the Geats. And he hurried back to his hoard and the
dark cave-hall of which he was lord, ere it was day-dawn. He had
encircled the dwellers in that land with fire and brand. He trusted in
his cavern, and in battle and his cliff-wall. But his hope deceived
him. Then was the terror made known to Beowulf, quickly and soothly,
namely that his very homestead, that best of houses, that throne of
the Geats, was dissolving in the whelming fire. And full rueful was
it to the good man, and the very greatest of sorrows.
And the wise man was thinking that he had bitterly angered the
Wielder of all things, the eternal God, in the matter of some ancient
customs. [66] And within his breast gloomy brooding was welling, as
was by no means his wont. The fiery dragon had destroyed by flame the
stronghold of the people, both the sea-board and neighbouring land. And
therefore the King of the Weder-Geats devised revenge upon him.
Now Beowulf the Prince of earls and protector of warriors commanded
them to fashion him a glorious war-shield all made of iron. For he
well knew that a wooden shield would be unavailing against flames. For
he, the age-long noble Atheling, must await the end of days that
were fleeting of this world-life, he and the dragon together, though
long he had held sway over the hoard of treasure. And the Prince of
rings scorned to employ a troop against the wide-flying monster in
the great warfare. Nor did he dread the striving, nor did he think
much of this battle with the dragon, of his might and courage, for
that formerly in close conflict had he escaped many a time from the
crashings of battle since he, the victorious sword-man, cleansed the
great hall in Hart, of Hrothgar his kinsman, and had grappled in the
contest with the mother of Grendel, of the loathly kin.
Nor was that the least hand-to-hand fight, when Hygelac was slain
there in the Frisian land when the King of the Geats, the friendly
lord of the folk, the son of Hrethel, died in the battle-rush beaten
down by the sword, drunk with blood-drinking. Then fled Beowulf by
his very own craft and swam through the seas. [67] And he had on his
arm alone thirty battle-trappings when he went down to the sea. Nor
did the Hetware need to be boasting, of that battle on foot, they who
bore their linden shields against him. And few of them ever reached
their homes safe from that wolf of the battle.
But Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, swam o'er the expanse of waters,
miserable and solitary, back to his people, where Hygd proffered him
treasures and a kingdom, rings and dominion. She did not think that
her son Heardred would know how to hold their native seats against
strangers, now that Hygelac was dead. Nor could the wretched people
prevail upon the Atheling (Beowulf) in any wise to show himself lord
of Heardred or to be choosing the kingship. Nevertheless he gave
friendly counsel to the folk with grace and honour until that he
(Heardred) was older and held sway over the Weder-Geats.
Then those exiles the sons of Ohthere sought him over the seas; they
had rebelled against the Lord of the Swedes, the best of the sea-kings,
that famous chieftain of those who bestowed rings in Sweden. And that
was life's limit to him. For the son of Hygelac, famishing there,
was allotted a deadly wound by the swing of a sword. And the son of
Ongentheow went away thence to visit his homestead when Heardred lay
dead, and left Beowulf to sit on the throne and to rule the Goths. And
he was a good King. [68]