Part XXXIV

WIGLAF his name was, Weohstan's son,linden-thane loved, the lord of Scylfings,Aelfhere's kinsman. His king he now sawwith heat under helmet hard oppressed.He minded the prizes his prince had given him,wealthy seat of the Waegmunding line,and folk-rights that his father ownedNot long he lingered. The linden yellow,his shield, he seized; the old sword he drew: --as heirloom of Eanmund earth-dwellers knew it,who was slain by the sword-edge, son of Ohtere,friendless exile, erst in fraykilled by Weohstan, who won for his kinbrown-bright helmet, breastplate ringed,old sword of Eotens, Onela's gift,weeds of war of the warrior-thane,battle-gear brave: though a brother's childhad been felled, the feud was unfelt by Onela.For winters this war-gear Weohstan kept,breastplate and board, till his bairn had grownearlship to earn as the old sire did:then he gave him, mid Geats, the gear of battle,portion huge, when he passed from life,fared aged forth. For the first time nowwith his leader-lord the liegeman youngwas bidden to share the shock of battle.Neither softened his soul, nor the sire's bequestweakened in war. So the worm found outwhen once in fight the foes had met!Wiglaf spake, -- and his words were sage;sad in spirit, he said to his comrades: --"I remember the time, when mead we took,what promise we made to this prince of oursin the banquet-hall, to our breaker-of-rings,for gear of combat to give him requital,for hard-sword and helmet, if hap should bringstress of this sort! Himself who chose usfrom all his army to aid him now,urged us to glory, and gave these treasures,because he counted us keen with the spearand hardy 'neath helm, though this hero-workour leader hoped unhelped and aloneto finish for us, -- folk-defenderwho hath got him glory greater than all menfor daring deeds! Now the day is comethat our noble master has need of the mightof warriors stout. Let us stride alongthe hero to help while the heat is about himglowing and grim! For God is my witnessI am far more fain the fire should seizealong with my lord these limbs of mine!Unsuiting it seems our shields to bearhomeward hence, save here we essayto fell the foe and defend the lifeof the Weders' lord. I wot 'twere shameon the law of our land if alone the kingout of Geatish warriors woe enduredand sank in the struggle! My sword and helmet,breastplate and board, for us both shall serve!"Through slaughter-reek strode he to succor his chieftain,his battle-helm bore, and brief words spake: --"Beowulf dearest, do all bravely,as in youthful days of yore thou vowedstthat while life should last thou wouldst let no wisethy glory droop! Now, great in deeds,atheling steadfast, with all thy strengthshield thy life! I will stand to help thee."At the words the worm came once again,murderous monster mad with rage,with fire-billows flaming, its foes to seek,the hated men. In heat-waves burnedthat board to the boss, and the breastplate failedto shelter at all the spear-thane young.Yet quickly under his kinsman's shieldwent eager the earl, since his own was nowall burned by the blaze. The bold king againhad mind of his glory: with might his glaivewas driven into the dragon's head, --blow nerved by hate. But Naegling was shivered,broken in battle was Beowulf's sword,old and gray. 'Twas granted him notthat ever the edge of iron at allcould help him at strife: too strong was his hand,so the tale is told, and he tried too farwith strength of stroke all swords he wielded,though sturdy their steel: they steaded him nought.Then for the third time thought on its feudthat folk-destroyer, fire-dread dragon,and rushed on the hero, where room allowed,battle-grim, burning; its bitter teethclosed on his neck, and covered himwith waves of blood from his breast that welled.