BP+Hyun

Beowulf-2836~2876

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There are few people I have heard of who possessed the body and audacity to survive, if they had to face, the outbursts of that poison-breather or would have scavenged the ring-hall floor to find the dragon on guard and awake.

The wealth had been won, bought and paid with Beowulf's bereavement. Both had reached the end of the road of the lives they had been lent. 

Shortly, the ones who fled from the brawl crawled back, the ones who had betrayed their king earlier, the tail-turners, all ten of them together. When he needed them the most, they ran away Now they felt guilty and came reluctantly in their armors, to where the old king lay. They watched Wiglaf, sitting exhausted, a companion, shoulder to shoulder with his king, making frustrated attempts to bring him back with water. Much as he wanted to, there was no way he could keep hold of his lord's life on Earth or alter the God's will. What God judge right rules what happens to every man, as it does to this day.

Then some serious scolding followed from the young warrior to the ones who had been cowards. Wiglaf, son of Weohstan, spoke scornfully and and in distress: "Anyone ready to accept reality will surely realize that our king, who showered you with gifts and gave you the armor you are standing in – when he would distribute helmets and mail-shirts to men on the mead-benches, a prince treating his subjects in his hall with the best things he could find was equal to throwing weapons uselessly away. It would be a miserable waste when the war broke out. Beowulf had little cause to brag about his armed guard; yet God who chooses who wins or loses allowed him to strike with his own blade when valor was needed. 