Paris flared -- Paris, which the divine sun had sown with light, and where in glory waved the great future harvest of Truth and of Justice.
Conclusion 1: Boredom= Flared tempers= hard words
Quickly, the dragon came at him, encouraged As Beowulf fell back; its breath flared, And he suffered, wrapped around in swirling Flames -- a king, before, but now A beaten warrior. None of his comrades Came to him, helped 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.
Love and war, it seemed, worked by the same rules. One had to hurry, before the fires flared out.
It was like there was a pile of kindling that was in the back of my imagination just waiting there. Once I lit it, it just flared up and I kept getting ideas and ideas.