The text, second part
Read the transitional part between the first and second part of the story. Pay attention to the changes in Beowulf.
Then Beowulf, strong in valour as in wisdom, Mightiest yet mildest of men, for fifty years Reigned over his people in peace and prosperity Unchallenged. From youth of fighting and heroic deeds Quietly he journeyed toward the tomb, until, Old at last - like a mighty oak in winter, Flaunting no longer her green midsummer glory, But stripped and bare, yet splendid still - he hoped To die in peace. But vainly. You shall hear How there came a dragon to confound his quiet, flying By night, scorching the dark on wings of fire... |
Villages he burnt, he laid waste the land; The palace of Beowulf, proud gift-throne of his people, He swamped in waves of fire - O terrible Was the King's anger - in his heart the wrathful embers flared. He commanded an iron shield to be made, For well he knew that linden wood must warp And shrivel in heat. With eleven chosen warriors He marched to the dragon's den, the mound on the headland beside the surging sea. Upon a hillock he sat and waited for the dragon, while over his troubled mind mistily moved, as a mirror, his youth and many deed of glory. |
After a little more pondering, Beowulf finally confronts the dragon.
The fight does not go well. When his men witness their King's plight, they abandon him. All but one, Wiglaf. Wiglaf also finds the time to remind his fellow warriors of the code of loyalty before he engages in the fight himself.
Unafraid he waited, Yet - as never before- with no blaze of battle In his soul, nor blood-yearning, nor champing of steed, Nor delirious charge of his chariot wheels - only A deep brooding sadness as he pondered upon death. Then for the last time he spoke to his warriors Greeting them man by man. "Dearest comrades, I am ready now - let the dragon face me if he dare! I wish I could fight him with my hands, as I fought Grendel. But his breath is fire, all swollen with poisonous blasts, And I need my battle steel, my stout mailcoat and thick-plated shield.... ...I shall not yield an inch. My courage Surely shall win the treasure, unless Fate- Whose word is final, to whom in obedience unquestioned Even kings must bow - shall deal me death." Then the hero, stern under his gleaming helmet, With his stout mailcoat and thick-plaited shield, strode out to meet his foe. |
The keen edge bit on the scales and glanced aside, But roused his dreadful wrath. Uprearing, he flapped Wide his monstrous wings, fanning the blaze Tenfold; like a forest fire, tree-ravenous, devouring All in his path, he bore down on the pygmy king Till Beowulf, choked in that frenzy of smoke and flame, Scarce could breathe... he stumbled...he gasped for air then the warriors, his friends on the headland, chieftains'sons whom he himself had chosen, when they saw their King sore-pressed, his strength waning, forsook him- in terror for their lives, they took to the woods, all But Wiglaf.... ...and called to his comrades: "Stay, Fellow warriors! The King needs us, now As never before. Is this the time to desert him? Have you forgotten the gifts he gave us in the Mead Hall When we feasted together - the gold rings, the shields and flashing swords? Have you forgotten that solemnly We swore to protect him from peril? Us alone He chose for this venture, named us of all his spearmen The bravest. Turn now, O my comrades, and fight!" But they shrank from his chiding and cringed among the trees. |
The poem being an Anglo-Saxon poem, Wiglaf really takes his time and continues a little longer in the same vein before he finally and actually joins the fray. Together, Wiglaf and the King overcome the monster, but the King is mortally wounded. Here, we can witness one of the earliest long drawn out dying scenes from literature.
Then cried he in torment of soul: "Shame upon you! Do your coward hearts knock at your ribs so loud You cannot hear me? Or do you not wish to hear? Is your master no more to you than carcass meat For monsters? I'd rather my body were burnt to a cinder Than stand by to see him slain. For him be my hand now, My helmet, my sword, my mailcoat - all for him!" ... Until he stood where he loved best to be - By his master's side. ... Together they quenched the fire, together beat out His loathsome life. O valiant, valiant knight, Who at King's peril never did falter! Such Should a warrior strive to be. |
'Twas the last victory That fell to the King, the last of his works in this world. As, faint from fighting, he sank down by the wall. His wound began to swelter and swell, the pestilent poison climbed to the heart.. ... Softly he spoke: "No son have I to succeed me, none to inherit, This armour of mine, scarred with a thousand battles... Now, as I lie dying - here under the arch That giants long ago hewed from the white cliff- These thoughts bring me comfort: full fifty winters Have I governed my people, guided and guarded them; Nover in the wide world was there a king or warrior Could match me in the field or make me quake with fear. Blameless my life has been; no blood of kinsman Have I shed, nor sworn falsely nor played the traitor- The Ruler of Men can charge me with no crime... |
Finally, Beowulf voices his dying wish. Note what he asks for. It is not a last look upon a loved one, neither does he ask Wiglaf to pass on a message of love to someone at home...
But my wound grows cold. Go quickly, dear Wiglaf,
Under the grey stone to the treasure within.
Now the dragon is dead, despoil him - bring me banquet
Of jewels to feast my hungry eyes - quickly
Before I die."