Of all doughty of Geats the grief should be bearing. Sink at strife. Unto us shall one sword be, one helm, One byrny and shield, to both of us common. Through the slaughter-reek waded he then, bare his war-helm 2660 To the finding his lord, and few words he quoth: O Beowulf the dear, now do thee all well, As thou in thy youthful life quothest of yore, That naught wouldst thou let, while still thou wert living, Thy glory fade out. Now shalt thou of deeds famed, The atheling of single heart, with all thy main deal For the warding thy life, and to stay thee I will. Then after these words all wroth came the Worm, The dire guest foesome, that second of whiles With fire-wellings flecked, his foes to go look on, 2670 The loath men. With flame was lightly then burnt up The board to the boss, and might not the byrny To the warrior the young frame any help yet. But so the young man under shield of his kinsman Went onward with valour, whenas his own was All undone with gleeds; then again the war-king Remember'd his glories, and smote with mainmight With his battle-bill, so that it stood in the head Need-driven by war-hate. Then asunder burst Naegling, Waxed weak in the war-tide, e'en Beowulf's sword, 2680 The old and grey-marked; to him was not given That to him any whit might the edges of irons Be helpful in battle; over-strong was the hand Which every of swords, by the hearsay of me, With its swing over-wrought, when he bare unto strife A wondrous hard weapon; naught it was to him better. Then was the folk-scather for the third of times yet, The fierce fire-drake, all mindful of feud; He rac'd on that strong one, when was room to him given, Hot and battle-grim; he all the halse of him gripped 2690 With bitter-keen bones; all bebloody'd he waxed With the gore of his soul. Well'd in waves then the war-sweat. XXXVII. THEY TWO SLAY THE WORM. BEOWULF IS WOUNDED DEADLY: HE BIDDETH WIGLAF BEAR OUT THE TREASURE.