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PART III.

THE FIRE DRAKE.

THE ARGUMENT.

Beowulf, having succeeded to the kingdom of the Weder-Goths, had ruled the folk gloriously for fifty years, when the fiery dragon began to lay waste the land. With twelve companions Beowulf goes to do battle with the dragon. He tells the story of his life, and bids his men farewell. Then, with the help of Wiglaf, he kills the dragon, but is wounded to the death, and dies after Wiglaf has brought to him part of the hoard from the dragon's Wiglaf denounces the dastards who shrank from helping their lord. He sends a message home, and bids preparation be made to burn Beowulf's body, which is laid on the pyre and consumed amid the wailing and tears of his sorrowing people.

cave.

I.

HOW THE DRAGON GOT THE HOARD AND WASTED THE LAND.

Then afterwards the kingdom wide passed to Beowulf's hand.

He ruled it well for fifty years, old guardian of the

land,

And prudent king, till in dark nights began the dragon's sway

Who in the high cliff kept the hoard, upon the moorland grey;

Unknown to men the path below.

Great heaps of treasure of old time in that earth-cavern lay,

* In the MS. the next sixteen lines are in such a ruinous condition that even with the help of the ingenious conjectures of Kemble, Thorpe, and Grein, it is well-nigh impossible to make sense of them. I do not therefore attempt to translate them. As well as can be made out we are told that a certain thrall, flying from the displeasure of his lord, found the dragon asleep by the hoard, and took away a cup as a peace offering to his master. The dragon awaking missed the cup, and in revenge wasted the land with fire.

The heritage of noble men, which he of olden day, I wot not who, with anxious care had hidden,—treasures good.

Ere then had death swept all away, and sad was he of

mood

Who longest tarried there alone,-the last of valiant

men.

Delay he sought that yet awhile he might enjoy again His treasure. Ready stood the hill, made strong by subtle lore,

Upon the plain, below the ness, hard by the billowy shore.

In it the guardian of the rings that lordly treasure laid, A heavy load of plated gold, and dark the spell he said: "O earth! keep thou the warriors' hoard which men may keep no more!

Lo! upon thee by valiant men 'twas gained in days of

yore.

But war and death have swept away my comrades

every one;

Of those who saw the joys of hall to wield the sword

there's none,

Or fill the beaker goodly wrought. Gone are the

brave elsewhere!

From frowning helmet dight with gold must fall the plating fair;

They sleep who would have kept it bright! The mail that bite of sword

O'er clashing shield in fight withstood must follow its dead lord.

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