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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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79 CHAPTER XXXIII The Scop chants how the Dragon burnt down with his fiery breath the homesteads of men and even the castle of old King Beowulf; and how Beowulf, resolving to do battle with this third Monster, alone as before, caused a shield of iron to be made as protection against the Monster’s spew of fire. The Scop then recalls some of Beowulf’s feats in days gone by: his fight with Grendel, of which we have heard; his escape by swimming in the sea-raid of Hygelac into the land of the Frisians (a raid which, as said, really took place in the sixth century, in which King Hygelac lost his life); and how Beowulf had refused the offer of the throne from the Queen- Widow, Hygd, preferring to act as unofficial adviser to her son Heardred, till young King Heardred was slain by the Swedish King, Onela, for having sheltered Onela’s rebellious and outlawed nephews. Then began the Stranger One forth his gleeds to spew, And burn the bright homesteads; the glare ablazing flew, Frightful to landsfolk. Nothing living there Would he leave, this loathly One, Flier-in-the-air. The warfare of the great Worm wide about was clear, The rancor of this Ravager, afar and anear, How this fell Destroyer the folk of Geatish kin Hated and hounded. He shot to Hoard within, To his hidden King’s-hall, ere the morning came. The dwellers in the land he’d lapped about with flame, With brand and with bale-fire. He trusted in his mound, His wall and his warfare. His trust in vain he found. Then was unto Beowulf the horror made known, Speedily and soothly, that the home his own, The goodliest of dwellings, the Geat’s gift-throne, In fiery surge had melted. That to this good King Was a grief in bosom, the worst of sorrowing. The Wise One he weened that he the Wielder might Bitterly have angered, breaking olden right Of the Lord eternal. Welled his bosom sore With thoughts of black foreboding, as ne’er his wont before. From beyond the water-land, the Fire-Drake with gleeds Now had laid in ashes the fastness of the ledes, The stronghold of Geatmen. The Warrior-King for this, The Sovran of the Weders, planned how vengeance should be his. He, the clansmen’s Bulwark, Lord of jarlmen, he, Bade them work a wondrous shield, all of iron firm For well he wist that linden, wood of forest tree, Could help him not against the flames of that great Worm. He needs must now be meeting, this King of passing worth, |
