BEOWULF AND THE FIRE DRAKE 47 



adversary ; from its body and mouth issued many coloured 

 flames, which burnt up Wiglaf's wooden shield, so that 

 for protection he crouched under the iron shield of 

 Beowulf. The King now struck with all his force at the 

 dragon, but, alas ! his good old sword shivered in pieces ; 

 and now for the third time the monster rushed at him, 

 and succeeded in encircling his neck in its horrid coils. 

 Still, the King's hands were free, so that he could draw a 

 dagger which he bore on his corselet ; Wiglaf, meanwhile, 

 was also hewing at the creature, and before long Beowulf 

 was able to stab it to death. Thus they slew the 

 Fire Drake ; but Beowulf had received a deadly wound, 

 which soon began to burn and swell, and though Wiglaf 

 brought him water and tended him with all affection, the 

 King felt his end to be near. Anxious to know of what 

 the treasure consisted, he sent Wiglaf into the cave to 

 explore it. Eiches of all descriptions were discovered — 

 jewels, gold, handsome bowls, helmets', armlets, and, 

 most curious of all, a gilded standard, which was flapping 

 over the hoard. From this standard there came a ray of 

 bright light, by which Wiglaf could easily see around 

 him. Nothing was to be seen of the dead Fire Drake, 

 so Beowulf's messenger plundered the hoard at will. 

 He piled up bowls and dishes in his bosom, took the 

 standard, and a sword shod with brass, hastening with 

 them back to the King, who, he was half afraid, might 

 die during his absence. Beowulf was alive, however, 

 though in sorry plight, so Wiglaf fetched more water 

 wherewith to refresh him. Then spake the brave old Kin g 

 his last words on earth, the while he looked sadly on the 

 gold : ' I give thanks for these beautiful things, which here 

 I gaze on, to the Lord of all, to the King of Glory, the 

 eternal Lord, for that I have been able before my death- 

 day to gain so much for my people. Fulfil ye now with 

 this hoard my people's needs, for here I may no longer 

 be. Let the warriors build a mound at the headland 

 which juts out into the sea. Bear it that it may tower 



