eowulf, with fearless eyes, gazed in the face of the warden and
told him simply and unboastfully who he was, from whence he came, and
what was his errand. He had come as the nation's deliverer, to slay
the thing that

"Cometh in dark of night, sateth his secret hate,
Worketh through fearsome awe, slaughter and shame."

With joy the warden heard his noble words.

"My men shall beach your ship," he said, "and make her fast with a
barrier of oars against the greedy tide. Come with me to the king."

It was a gallant band that strode into Heorot, where sat the old
king, gloom overshadowing his soul. And fit leader for a band of
heroes was Beowulf, a giant figure in ring-mail, spear and shield
gleaming in his hand, and by his side the mighty sword, Naegeling. To
Hrothgar, as to the warden, Beowulf told the reason of his coming, and
hope began again to live in the heart of the king.

That night the warriors from the land of the Goths were feasted in the
great banqueting-hall where, for twelve unhappy years, voices had
never rung out so bravely and so merrily. The queen herself poured out
the mead with which the king and the men from Gothland pledged each
other, and with her own hand she passed the goblet to each one. When,
last of it all, it came to the guest of honour, Beowulf took the cup
of mead from the fair queen and solemnly pledged himself to save the
land from the evil thing that devoured it like a pestilence, or to die
in his endeavour.

"Needs must I now perform knightly deeds in this hall,
Or here must meet my doom in darksome night."

When darkness fell the feast came to an end, and all left the hall
save Beowulf and his fourteen followers. In their armour, with swords
girt on their sides, the fourteen heroes lay down to rest, but Beowulf
laid aside all his arms and gave his sword to a thane to bear away.
For, said he,

"I have heard
That that foul miscreant's dark and stubborn flesh
Recks not the force of arms ...
Hand to hand ... Beowulf will grapple with the mighty foe."

From his fastnesses in the fens, the Grendel had heard the shouts of
revelry, and as the Goths closed their eyes to sleep, knowing they
might open them again only to grapple with hideous death, yet unafraid
because of their sure belief that "What is to be goes ever as it
must," the monster roused himself. Through the dank, chill, clinging
mists he came, and his breath made the poisonous mias