"The best of kings, saw huge stone arches and felt the heat of the dragon's breath, flooding down through the hidden entrance, too hot for anyone to stand, a steaming current of fire and smoke that blocked all passage. And the Geats' Lord and leader, angry, lowered his sword and roared out a battle cry"
"Quickly, the dragon came at him, encouraged as Beowulf fell back: its breath flared, and he suffered, wrapped around swirling flames-a king, before, but now a beaten warrior. None of his comrades came to him, his brave and noble followers; they ran for their lives, fled deep in a wood. And only one of them remained, stood there, miserable, remembering, as a good man must, what kinship should mean."
"Beloved Wiglaf, go, quickly, find the dragons treasure: we've taken its life, but its gold is ours, too. Hurry, bring me ancient silver, precious jewels, shinning armor and gems, before I die."
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