Now Beowulf heard that his own home had been burnt to the ground. It was
a great grief to him, almost making him break out in a rage against
Providence. His breast heaved with anger.

He meant to rid his country of the plague, and to fight the dragon
single handed. He would have thought it shame to seek him with a large
band, he who, as a lad, had killed Grendel and his kin. As he armed for
the fray, many thoughts filled his mind; he remembered the days of his
youth and manhood. "I fought many wars in my youth," he said, "and now
that I am aged, and the keeper of my people, I will yet again seek the
enemy and do famously."

He bade his men await him on the mountain-side. They were to see which
of the two would come alive out of the tussle.

There the aged King beheld where a rocky archway stood, with a stream of
fire gushing from it; no one could stand there and not be scorched. He
gave a great shout, and the dragon answered with a hot breath of flame.
Beowulf, with drawn sword, stood well up to his shield, when the burning
dragon, curved like an arch, came headlong upon him. The shield saved
him but little; he swung up the sword to smite the horrible monster, but
its edge did not bite. Sparks flew around him on every side; he saw that
the end of his days had come.

His men crept away to the woods to save their lives. One, and one only,
Wiglaf by name, sped through the smoke and flame to help his lord.

"My Lord Beowulf!" he cried, "with all your might defend life, I will
support you to the utmost."