E'en at will to the Worm, and within wall no longer Would he bide, but awayward with burning he fared, All dight with the fire: it was fearful beginning To the folk in the land, and all swiftly it fell 2310 On their giver of treasure full grievously ended. XXXIII. THE WORM BURNS BEOWULF'S HOUSE, AND BEOWULF GETS READY TO GO AGAINST HIM. BEOWULF'S EARLY DEEDS IN BATTLE WITH THE HETWARE TOLD OF. Began then the guest to spew forth of gleeds, The bright dwellings to burn; stood the beam of the burning For a mischief to menfolk; now nothing that quick was The loathly lift-flier would leave there forsooth; The war of the Worm was wide to be seen there, The narrowing foe's hatred anigh and afar, How he, the fight-scather, the folk of the Geats Hated and harm'd; shot he back to the hoard, His dark lordly hall, ere yet was the day's while; The land-dwellers had he in the light low encompass'd 2320 With bale and with brand; in his burg yet he trusted, His war-might and his wall: but his weening bewray'd him. Then Beowulf was done to wit of the terror Full swiftly forsooth, that the house of himself, Best of buildings, was molten in wellings of fire, The gift-stool of the Geats. To the good one was that A grief unto heart; of mind-sorrows the greatest. Weened the wise one, that Him, e'en the Wielder, The Lord everlasting, against the old rights He had bitterly anger'd; the breast boil'd within him 2330 With dark thoughts, that to him were naught duly wonted. Now had the fire-drake the own fastness of folk, The water-land outward, that ward of the earth, With gleeds to ground wasted; so therefore the war-king, The lord of the Weder-folk, learned him vengeance. Then he bade be work'd for him, that fence of the warriors, And that all of iron, the lord of the earls, A war-board all glorious, for wissed he yarely That the holt-wood hereto might help him no whit, The linden 'gainst fire-flame. Of fleeting days now 2340 The Atheling exceeding good end should abide, The end of the world's life, and the Worm with him also, Though long he had holden the weal of the hoard. Forsooth scorned then the lord of the rings That he that wide-flier with war-band should seek, With a wide host; he fear'd not that war for himself, Nor for himself the Worm's war accounted one whit, His might and his valour, for that he erst a many Strait-daring of battles had bided, and liv'd, Clashings huge of the battle, sithence he of Hrothgar, 2350 He, the man victory-happy, had cleansed the hall, And in war-tide had gripped the kindred of Grendel, The loathly of kindreds; nor was that the least Of hand-meetings, wherein erst was Hygelac slain, Sithence the Geats' king in the onrush of battle, The lord-friend of the folks, down away in the Frieslands, The offspring of Hrethel, died, drunken of sword-drinks,