Page:Gummere (1909) The Oldest English Epic.djvu/148

132 nor meet for any but me alone to measure might with this monster here and play the hero. Hardily I shall win that wealth, or war shall seize, cruel killing, your king and lord!” Up stood then with shield the sturdy champion, stayed by the strength of his single manhood, and hardy ’neath helmet his harness bore under cleft of the cliffs: no coward’s path! Soon spied by the wall that warrior chief, survivor of many a victory-field where foemen fought with furious clashings, an arch of stone; and within, a stream that broke from the barrow. The brooklet’s wave was hot with fire. The hoard that way he never could hope unharmed to near, or endure those deeps, for the dragon’s flame. Then let from his breast, for he burst with rage, the Weder-Geat prince a word outgo; stormed the stark-heart; stern went ringing and clear his cry ’neath the cliff-rocks gray. The hoard-guard heard a human voice; his rage was enkindled. No respite now for pact of peace! The poison-breath of that foul worm first came forth from the cave, hot reek-of-fight: the rocks resounded. Stout by the stone-way his shield he raised, lord of the Geats, against the loathed-one; while with courage keen that coiléd foe came seeking strife. The sturdy king had drawn his sword, not dull of edge,