21 March 22 Beowulf – #16

Beware the Dragon!

Draw not thy sword, good warrior! But for the third and last time, Beowulf does anyway. Yes, the awaited third “monster” arrives, complete with legendary treasure.

The second part of the story, set in Geatland, skips over the middle of Beowulf’s career and focuses on the very end of his life. Through a series of retrospectives, however, we recover much of what happens during this gap and therefore are able to see how Beowulf comports himself as both a warrior and a king. The period following Hygelac’s death is an important transitional moment for Beowulf. Instead of rushing for the throne himself, as Hrothulf does in Denmark, he supports Hygelac’s son, the rightful heir. With this gesture of loyalty and respect for the throne, he proves himself worthy of kingship.

Beowulf’s third battle is with the Dragon, which takes place back home, in Geatland. The Dragon, who unlike Grendel and his mother, is less a monster than a symbol. He is not sad or weird or even pathetic. Indeed, he is rather glamorous. He is fifty feet long and breathes fire. He has wings—he can fly—and he doesn’t live in a nasty fen. He has a nice cave, where he guards a treasure that has been his for three hundred years, and which he feels strongly about. But now someone has come and stolen a jeweled cup. This enrages him, and he begins incinerating the Geatish countryside.

And now . . . Back to Our Story . . .

“Beware Dragons Bearing Gold!”

Then he drew himself up beside his shield. 

The fabled warrior in his war-shirt and helmet

Trusted in his own strength entirely 2540

And went under the crag.

No coward path. 

Hard by the rock-face that hale veteran,

A good man who had gone repeatedly

Into combat and danger and come through,

Saw a stone arch and a gushing stream

That burst from the barrow, blazing and wafting 

A deadly heat. It would be hard to survive 

Unscathed near the hoard, to hold firm

Against the dragon in those flaming depths.

Then he gave a shout. 

The lord of the Geats 2550

Unburdened his breast and broke out 

In a storm of anger. 

Under gray stone

His voice challenged and resounded clearly.

Heat was ignited. 

The hoard-guard recognized 

A human voice, the time was over

For peace and parleying. 

Pouring forth

In a hot battle-fume, the breath of the monster

Burst from the rock. 

There was a rumble underground.

Down there in the barrow, Beowulf the warrior

Lifted his shield: the outlandish thing   2560

Writhed and convulsed and viciously

Turned on the king, whose keen-edged-sword, 

And heirloom inherited by ancient right,

Was already in his hand. 

Roused to a fury, 

Each antagonist struck terror in the other.

Unyielding, the lord of his people loomed 

By his tall shield, sure of his ground,

While the serpent looped and unleashed itself.

Swaddled in flames, it came gliding and flexing

And racing toward its fate. Yet his shield defended 2570

The renowned leader’s life and limb

For a shorter time than he meant it to:

That final day was the first time

When Beowulf fought and fate denied him

Glory in battle. 

So the king of the Geats 

Raised his hand and struck hard

At the enameled scales, but hardly cut through: 

The blade flashed and slashed yet the blow

Was far less powerful than the hard-pressed king

Had need of at the moment. 

The hoard-keeper     2580

Went into a spasm and spouted deadly flames: 

When he felt the stroke, battle-fire

Billowed and spewed. 

Beowulf was foiled 

Of a glorious victory. 

The glittering sword,

Infallible before that day,

Failed when he unsheathed it, as it never should have

For the son of Ecgtheow, it was no easy thing

To have to give ground like that and go

Unwillingly to inhabit another home

In a place beyond; so every man must yield   2590

The leasehold of his days.

Before long

The fierce contenders clashed again.

The hoard-guard took heart, 

inhaled and swelled up 

And got a new wind; he who had once ruled

Was furled in fire and had to face the worst.

No help or backing was to be had then

From his high-born comrades; that hand-picked troop

Broke ranks and ran for their lives

To the safety of the wood. But within one heart 

Sorrow welled up: in a man of worth 2600

The claims of kinship cannot be denied.

His name was Wiglaf, a son of Weohstan’s,

A well-regarded Shylfing warrior

Related to Aelfhere. 

When he saw his lord 

Tormented by the heat of his scalding helmet,

He remembered the bountiful gifts he bestowed on him

How well he lived among the Waegmundings,

The freehold he inherited from his father before him.

He could not hold back: one hand brandished

The yellow-timbered shield, the other drew his sword 2610

An ancient blade that was said to have belonged 

To Eanmund, the son of Ohthere, the one

Weohstan had slain when he was in exile without friends.

He carried the arms to the victim’s kinfolk, 

The burnished helmet, the webbed chain-mail 

And that relic of the giants. 

But Onela retuned 

The weapons to him, rewarded Weohstan

With Eadmund’s war-gear. 

He ignored the blood-feud,

The fact that Eadmund was his brother’s son.

Weohstan kept that war-gear for a lifetime, 2620

The sword and the mail-shirt, until it was the son’s turn

To follow his father and perform his part. 

Then, in old age, at the end of his days

Among the Weather-Geats, 

he bequeathed to Wiglaf Innumerable weapons.

And now the youth

Was to enter the line of battle with his lord,

 His first time to be tested as a fighter.

His spirit did not break, and the ancestral blade 

Would keep its edge, as the dragon discovered

As soon as they came together in combat. 2630

Sad at heart, addressing his companions, 

Wiglaf spoke wise and fluent words:

“I remember that time when the mead was flowing, 

How we pledged loyalty to our lord in the hall, 

Promised our ring-giver we would be worth our price, 

Make good the gift of the war-gear,

Those swords and helmets, as and when 

His need required it. 

He picked us out

From the army deliberately, honored us and judged us

Fit for this action, made me these lavish gifts-- 2640

And all because he considered us the best

Of his arms-bearing thanes. And now, although

He wanted this challenge to be the one he’d face

By himself alone--the shepherd of our land,

A man unequalled in the quest for glory

And a name for daring--now the day has come 

When this lord we serve needs sound men

To give him their support. 

Let us go to him, 

Help our leader through the hot flame

And dread of the fire. 

As God is my witness, 2650

I would rather my body were robbed in the same 

Burning blaze as my gold-giver’s body

Then go back home bearing arms.

That is unthinkable, unless we have first 

Slain the foe and defended the life

Of the prince of the Weather-Geats. 

I well know that things he has done for us deserve better.

Should he alone be left exposed

To fall in battle? We must bond together,

Shield and helmet, mail-shirt and sword.” 2660

Then he wadded the dangerous reek and went

Under arms to his lord, saying only:

“Go on, dear Beowulf, do everything

You said you would when you were still young

And vowed you would never let your name and fame 

Be dimmed while you lived. 

Your deeds are famous,

So stay resolute, my lord, defend your life now

With the whole of your strength. I shall stand by you.”

After those word, a wildness rose

In the dragon again and drove it to attack, 2670

Heaving up fire, hunting for enemies,

The humans it loathed. 

Flames lapped the shield,

Charred it to the boss, and the body armor

On the young warrior was useless to him.

But Wiglaf did well under the wide rim

Beowulf shared with him once his own had shattered

In sparks and ashes.

Inspired again

By the thought of glory, the war-king threw 

His whole strength behind a sword-stroke

And connected with the skull. 

And Naegling snapped.      2680

Beowulf’s ancient iron-gray sword

Let him down in the fight. 

It was never his fortune 

To be helped in combat by the cutting-edge

Of weapons made of iron. 

When he yielded a sword,

No matter how blooded and hard-edged the blade

His hand was too strong, the stroke he dealt

(I have heard) would ruin it. He could reap no advantage.

Then the bane of that people, the fire-breathing dragon, 

Was mad to attack for a third time.

When a chance came, he caught the hero 2690

In a rush of flame and clamped sharp fangs

Into his neck. 

Beowulf’s body

Ran wet with his lifeblood: it came welling out.

Next thing, they say, the noble son of Weohstan 

Saw the king in danger at his side

And displayed his inborn bravery and strength. 

He left the head alone, but his fighting hand

Was burned when he came to his kinsman’s aid.

He lunged at the enemy lower down

So that his decorated sword sank into its belly 2700

And the flames grew weaker.

Background

Many years have passed since Beowulf killed Grendel and his mother. He has become the King of the Geats and ruled them for fifty years. He is about eighty years old now, and tired. Still, to protect his people he must eliminate the Dragon menace. He sets out, but “heavy was his mood.” Speaking to his knights, he reviews his great deeds. He bids them farewell. 

In what is probably the poem’s most iconic image, he goes and sits on a promontory that juts out over the sea. (This says everything. Beowulf will soon be part of nature—the land, the sea.) As always, he insists on going into the contest alone. His knights, relieved, slink off into the forest. The dragon emerges from the cave, “blazing, gliding in loopéd curves.” Beowulf brings his huge sword down on the monster’s body, but, as with Grendel’s mother, it doesn’t make a dent. The dragon sinks his teeth into Beowulf’s neck. His blood “welled forth in gushing streams.”

Beowulf is considered an epic poem in that the main character is a hero who travels great distances to prove his strength at impossible odds against supernatural demons and beasts. The poem begins "in the middle of things", a characteristic of the epics of antiquity. Although the poem begins with Beowulf's arrival, Grendel's attacks have been ongoing. An elaborate history of characters and their lineages is spoken of, as well as their interactions with each other, debts owed and repaid, and deeds of valor. The warriors form a brotherhood linked by loyalty to their lord. The poem begins and ends with funerals: at the beginning of the poem for Scyld Scefing and at the end for Beowulf. 

NOTE: The Anglo-Saxons believed that it was a dragon's task to seek out such treasure and guard it fiercely. They thought that dragons lived underground beneath hills, and many place-names like Dragley (meaning Dragon's Mound) in Lancashire or Drakelow in Derbyshire show this.

Exploration 1: Why is the Dragon afraid of Beowulf? (“Each antagonist struck terror in the other.”)

Exploration 2: “. . . it was no easy thing /To have to give ground like that /and go Unwillingly to inhabit another home / In a place beyond; so everyman must yield / The leasehold of his days.”

What does this short passage tell us about the attitude toward death those of Beowulf’s time may have had?

Exploration 3:  The Dragon has several names* in the poem. Why?

*serpent / hoard keeper / contender / wyrm / hoard-guard / fire-breathing dragon.