Fitt XXXIII — Brave Though Aged — Reminiscences

The news of the burning reaches Beowulf. His hall — the gift-seat of the Geats, the finest building of his kingship — is ash. The grief is immediate and physical. His breast welled within him. For a moment he wonders if he has somehow angered the everlasting Lord, acted against the ancient commandments. The self-examination is brief and sincere. He concludes it was not that.

He orders a shield made of iron — wood is useless against dragon-fire; he knows this clearly. He considers assembling a large war-band and then sets the idea aside: this is not a fight he will divide the credit for, nor one where a large force would help against the creature's flame. He will go with a small group, face it himself. The king who has ruled wisely for fifty winters makes his preparations with the same clarity he brought to Heorot.

The reminiscences begin. Beowulf remembers Friesland: Hygelac was killed in the battle, the Geat forces routed, and Beowulf escaped by fighting through a press of enemies to the sea and swimming home in full armor — thirty men's strength, the poem reminds us, though it does not need to. The memory of that day is registered as both proof and contrast: he was strong enough to survive that. The dragon-fight will be harder.