Wiglaf: Your legend is known from the high seas and the snow barriers to the Great Island Kingdom - you are the Monster Slayer.
Beowulf: We men are the monsters now. The time of heroes is dead, Wiglaf - the Christ God has killed it, leaving humankind with nothing but weeping martyrs, fear, and shame.
Beowulf: Why not take that girl, and live out your remaining years in peace? Let some young hero save us.
Wealthow: And let the nightmare begin anew? No. I visited this horror upon my kingdom. I must be the one to finish her.
Wealthow: "Her..." Was she beautiful, Beowulf? A beauty so costly.
Beowulf: Beautiful, and full of fine promises. I was weak. I am sorry. So, so sorry. I have always loved you, my Queen.
Wealthow: And I you.
Beowulf: How many monsters must I slay? Grendel's mother, father, Grende's uncle? Must I hack down a whole family tree of demons?
King Hrothgar: She is the last of them. Whith her gone, demonkind will slip back into the darkness from whence it came.
Wiglaf: And where it belongs.
Beowulf: And the mother's mate? Where is Grendel's father?
King Hrothgar: Grendel's father can do no harm to man.