in this hall of conflict
Fearless to eat me, if he can compass it,
As he has oft devoured heroes of Denmark.
Then thou wilt not need my head to hide away,
Grendel will have me all mangled and gory;
Away will he carry, if death then shall take me,
My body with gore stained will he think to feast on,
On his lone track will bear it and joyously eat it,
And mark with my life-blood his lair in the moorland;
Nor more for my welfare wilt thou need to care then.
Send thou to Hygelac, if strife shall take me,
That best of byrnies which my breast guardeth,
Brightest of war-weeds, the work of Smith Weland,
Left me by Hrethel. Ever Wyrd has her way."

The aged King Hrothgar, who had listened attentively while the hero
spoke of his plans and of his possible fate, now greeted him saying:
"Thou hast sought my court for honour and for friendship's sake, O
Beowulf: thou hast remembered the ancient alliance between Ecgtheow,
thy father, and myself, when I shielded him, a fugitive, from the
wrath of the Wilfings, paid them the due wergild for his crime, and
took his oath of loyalty to myself. Long ago that time is; Ecgtheow is
dead, and I am old and in misery. It were too long now to tell of all
the woe that Grendel has wrought, but this I may say, that many a
hero has boasted of the great valour he would display in strife with
the monster, and has awaited his coming in this hall; in the morning
there has been no trace of each hero but the dark blood-stains on
benches and tables. How many times has that happened! But sit down now
to the banquet and tell thy plans, if such be thy will."

Thereupon room was made for the Geat warriors on the long benches, and
Beowulf sat in the place of honour opposite to the king: great respect
was shown to him, and all men looked with wonder on this mighty hero,
whose courage led him to hazard this terrible combat. Great carved
horns of ale were borne to Beowulf and his men, savoury meat was
placed before them, and while they ate and drank the minstrels played
and sang to the harp the deeds of men of old. The mirth of the feast
was redoubled now men hoped that a deliverer had come indeed.

The Quarrel

Among all the Danes who were rejoicing over Beowulf's coming there was
one whose heart was sad and his brow gloomy--one thane whom jealousy
urged to hate any man more distinguished than himself. Hunferth, Kin