First from the stone-hall
Came the monster’s breath, eager for burning,
A searing thrust. The earth thundered.
But they fled to the woods,
where they saved their lives. Yet in one of them surged
a feeling of remorse, for he well remembered
the bonds of loyalty, as he considered his kinship.
And now was the first time
For the brave young warrior to withstand such fury,
The storm of battle, standing beside his beloved lord.
Waves of fire swept Wiglaf’s shield,
Burned it up to its boss, nor might the mail-coat
Provide needed protection to the young warrior,
But the youth fought bravely on, nonetheless,
Under his kinsman’s shield, when his own was consumed
In the storm of fire.
