Hrothgar answered, "Noble you are, O Beowulf, and powerful, but terrible indeed is Grendel. Many a time at eventide have my warriors fearlessly vowed to await the coming of Grendel and to fight with him as you propose; but when morning came, the floor of Heorot was deep with their blood, but no other trace of them remained. Before, however, we accept your valiant offer, sit this night at meat, where, by our old and honored custom, we incite each other to heroic deeds and valorous behavior, when night shall come and Grendel claim his prey."
A royal feast it was that the old king gave that night, and the golden mead flowed from the twisted cups in living streams, while the Skalds sang the valorous deeds of heroic Danes of old.
Then rose Beowulf to speak. "To-night Grendel cometh again, expecting no one to fight him for many a time hath he levied his toll and escaped without harm. Here alone with myself will I keep vigil, and alone will I fight the foul fiend. To-morrow morning the sun will glorify my victory or I shall be a corpse in the dark and noisome home of the ogre."
The eye of the gray-haired king grew bright again as he listened to the brave words of Beowulf, and from her throne the queen in her bejeweled garments stepped down to Beowulf and presented him the loving-cup with words of gracious encouragement.
"No more shall Grendel feast upon the bodies of royal Danes, for to- night his foul body shall feel the powerful grip of my mighty hands," said Beowulf.
To their proper resting places in the hall stepped the Danish warriors, one by one, filing in a steady line past the great Beowulf, to whom each gave kindly greeting. Last of all came Hrothgar, and as he passed, he grasped the strong fingers of Beowulf and said, "To your keeping I leave my great hall, Heorot. Never before have I passed the duty on to any man. Be thou brave and valiant, and if victory cometh to thee no reward shall be too great for thy service."
And so the king departed, and silence fell over Heorot.
Left alone, Beowulf laid aside his iron mail, took off his brazen helmet and ungirded his trusty sword. Then unarmed and unprotected he lay down upon his bed. All about the palace slept, but Beowulf could find no rest upon his couch.
In the dim light of the early morn, forth from the pale mists of the marshes, stalked Grendel, up to the door of the many-windowed Heorot. Fire-strengthened were the iron bands with which the doors were bound, but he tore them away like wisps of straw and walked across the sounding tiles of the many-colored floor. Like strokes of vivid lightning flashed the fire from his eyes, making before him all things as clear as noonday. Beowulf, on his sleepless couch, held his breath as the fierce ogre gloated savagely over the bountiful feast he saw spread before him in the bodies of the sleeping Danes. With moistening lips he trod among the silent braves, and Beowulf saw him choose the strongest and noblest of them all. Quickly the monster stooped, seized the sleeping earl, and with one fierce stroke of his massive jaw, tore open the throat of the warrior and drank his steaming blood. Then he tore the corpse limb from limb and with horrid glee crunched the bones of his victim's hands.
[Illustration: GRENDEL COULD NOT BREAK THAT GRIP OF STEEL.]