THEN the baleful fiend its fire belched out,and bright homes burned. The blaze stood highall landsfolk frighting. No living thingwould that loathly one leave as aloft it flew.Wide was the dragon's warring seen,its fiendish fury far and near,as the grim destroyer those Geatish peoplehated and hounded. To hidden lair,to its hoard it hastened at hint of dawn.Folk of the land it had lapped in flame,with bale and brand. In its barrow it trusted,its battling and bulwarks: that boast was vain!To Beowulf then the bale was toldquickly and truly: the king's own home,of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old mansad in heart, 'twas heaviest sorrow.The sage assumed that his sovran Godhe had angered, breaking ancient law,and embittered the Lord. His breast withinwith black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.The folk's own fastness that fiery dragonwith flame had destroyed, and the stronghold allwashed by waves; but the warlike king,prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.Warriors'-bulwark, he bade them workall of iron -- the earl's commander --a war-shield wondrous: well he knewthat forest-wood against fire were worthless,linden could aid not. -- Atheling brave,he was fated to finish this fleeting life,[1]his days on earth, and the dragon with him,though long it had watched o'er the wealth of thehoard! --Shame he reckoned it, sharer-of-rings,to follow the flyer-afar with a host,a broad-flung band; nor the battle feared he,nor deemed he dreadful the dragon's warring,its vigor and valor: ventures desperatehe had passed a-plenty, and perils of war,contest-crash, since, conqueror proud,Hrothgar's hall he had wholly purged,and in grapple had killed the kin of Grendel,loathsome breed! Not least was thatof hand-to-hand fights where Hygelac fell,when the ruler of Geats in rush of battle,lord of his folk, in the Frisian land,son of Hrethel, by sword-draughts died,by brands down-beaten. Thence Beowulf fledthrough strength of himself and his swimming power,though alone, and his arms were laden with thirtycoats of mail, when he came to the sea!Nor yet might Hetwaras[2] haughtily boasttheir craft of contest, who carried against himshields to the fight: but few escapedfrom strife with the hero to seek their homes!Then swam over ocean Ecgtheow's sonlonely and sorrowful, seeking his land,where Hygd made him offer of hoard and realm,rings and royal-seat, reckoning naughtthe strength of her son to save their kingdomfrom hostile hordes, after Hygelac's death.No sooner for this could the stricken onesin any wise move that atheling's mindover young Heardred's head as lordand ruler of all the realm to be:yet the hero upheld him with helpful words,aided in honor, till, older grown,he wielded the Weder-Geats. -- Wandering exilessought him o'er seas, the sons of Ohtere,who had spurned the sway of the Scylfings'-helmet,the bravest and best that broke the rings,in Swedish land, of the sea-kings' line,haughty hero.[3] Hence Heardred's end.For shelter he gave them, sword-death came,the blade's fell blow, to bairn of Hygelac;but the son of Ongentheow sought againhouse and home when Heardred fell,leaving Beowulf lord of Geatsand gift-seat's master. -- A good king he![1] Literally "loan-days," days loaned to man. [2] Chattuarii, atribe that dwelt along the Rhine, and took part in repelling theraid of (Hygelac) Chocilaicus. [3] Onla, son of Ongentheow, whopursues his two nephews Eanmund and Eadgils to Heardred's court,where they have taken refuge after their unsuccessful rebellion.In the fighting Heardred is killed.