June 26 The Harvard Classics, fifteen minutes a day
In the Lair of the Green-Eyed Monster
At the bottom of the ocean was the home of the monster who had desolated the king’s halls. Beowulf, bravest of warriors, descended beneath the waves to fight the beast. The king’s men, waiting above, saw the waves become colored with blood. Hero or monster—who had won?
From the 1930 Reading Guide
Beowulf
Page 45 opens mid-sentence; the reading starts at its beginning on page 44.
Swift on the billows, with boar-spears wellhooked and barbed, it was hard beset,done to death and dragged on the headland,wave-roamer wondrous. Warriors viewedthe grisly guest.Then girt him Beowulfin martial mail, nor mourned for his life.His breastplate broad and bright of hues,woven by hand, should the waters try;well could it ward the warrior’s bodythat battle should break on his breast in vainnor harm his heart by the hand of a foe.And the helmet white that his head protectedwas destined to dare the deeps of the flood,through wave-whirl win: ’twas wound with chains,decked with gold, as in days of yorethe weapon-smith worked it wondrously,with swine-forms set it, that swords nowise,brandished in battle, could bite that helm.Nor was that the meanest of mighty helpswhich Hrothgar’s orator offered at need:“Hrunting” they named the hilted sword,of old-time heirlooms easily first;iron was its edge, all etched with poison,with battle-blood hardened, nor blenched it at fightin hero’s hand who held it ever,on paths of peril prepared to goto folkstead1 of foes. Not first time thisit was destined to do a daring task.For he bore not in mind, the bairn of Ecglafsturdy and strong, that speech he had made,drunk with wine, now this weapon he lentto a stouter swordsman. Himself, though, durst notunder welter of waters wager his lifeas loyal liegeman. So lost he his glory,honor of earls. With the other not so,who girded him now for the grim encounter.
XXII
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:—“Have mind, thou honored offspring of Healfdene,gold-friend of men, now I go on this quest,sovran wise, what once was said:if in thy cause it came that Ishould lose my life, thou wouldst loyal bideto me, though fallen, in father’s place!Be guardian, thou, to this group of my thanes,my warrior-friends, if War should seize me;and the goodly gifts thou gavest me,Hrothgar beloved, to Hygelac send!Geatland’s king may ken by the gold,Hrethel’s son see, when he stares at the treasure,that I got me a friend for goodness famed,and joyed while I could in my jewel-bestower.And let Unferth wield this wondrous sword,earl far-honored, this heirloom precious,hard of edge: with Hrunting Iseek doom of glory, or Death shall take me.”
After these words the Weder-Geat lordboldly hastened, biding neveranswer at all: the ocean floodsclosed o’er the hero. Long while of the dayfled ere he felt the floor of the sea.Soon found the fiend who the flood-domainsword-hungry held these hundred winters,greedy and grim, that some guest from above,some man, was raiding her monster-realm.She grasped out for him with grisly claws,and the warrior seized; yet scathed she nothis body hale; the breastplate hindered,as she strove to shatter the sark of war,the linkéd harness, with loathsome hand.Then bore this brine-wolf, when bottom she touched,the lord of rings to the lair she haunted,whiles vainly he strove, though his valor held,weapon to wield against wondrous monstersthat sore beset him; sea-beasts manytried with fierce tusks to tear his mail,and swarmed on the stranger. But soon he markedhe was now in some hall, he knew not which,where water never could work him harm,nor through the roof could reach him everfangs of the flood. Firelight he saw,beams of a blaze that brightly shone.Then the warrior was ware of that wolf-of-the-deep,mere-wife monstrous. For mighty strokehe swung his blade, and the blow withheld not.Then sang on her head that seemly bladeits war-song wild. But the warrior foundthe light-of-battle2 was loath to bite,to harm the heart: its hard edge failedthe noble at need, yet had known of oldstrife hand to hand, and had helmets cloven,doomed men’s fighting-gear. First time, this,for the gleaming blade that its glory fell.Firm still stood, nor failed in valor,heedful of high deeds, Hygelac’s kinsman;flung away fretted sword, featly jewelled,the angry earl; on earth it laysteel-edged and stiff. His strength he trusted.hand-gripe of might. So man shall dowhenever in war he weens to earn himlasting fame, nor fears for his life!Seized then by shoulder, shrank not from combat,the Geatish war-prince Grendel’s mother.Flung then the fierce one, filled with wrath,his deadly foe, that she fell to ground.Swift on her part she paid him backwith grisly grasp, and grappled with him.Spent with struggle, stumbled the warrior,fiercest of fighting-men, fell adown.On the hall-guest she hurled herself, hent her short sword,broad and brown-edged,3 the bairn to avenge,the sole-born son.—On his shoulder laybraided breast-mail, barring death,withstanding entrance of edge or blade.Life would have ended for Ecgtheow’s son,under wide earth for that earl of Geats,had his armor of war not aided him,battle-net hard, and holy Godwielded the victory, wisest Maker.The Lord of Heaven allowed his cause;and easily rose the earl erect.
XXIII
’MID the battle-gear saw he a blade triumphant,old-sword of Eotens, with edge of proof,warriors’ heirloom, weapon unmatched,—save only ’twas more than other mento bandy-of-battle could bear at all—as the giants had wrought it, ready and keen.Seized then its chain-hilt the Scyldings’ chieftain,bold and battle-grim, brandished the sword,reckless of life, and so wrathfully smotethat it gripped her neck and grasped her hard,her bone-rings breaking: the blade pierced throughthat fated-one’s flesh: to floor she sank.Bloody the blade: he was blithe of his deed.Then blazed forth light. ’Twas bright withinas when from the sky there shines uncloudedheaven’s candle. The hall he scanned.By the wall then went he; his weapon raisedhigh by its hilt the Hygelac-thane,angry and eager. That edge was not uselessto the warrior now. He wished with speedGrendel to guerdon for grim raids many,for the war he waged on Western-Danesoftener far than an only time,when of Hrothgar’s hearth-companionshe slew in slumber, in sleep devoured,fifteen men of the folk of Danes,and as many others outward bore,his horrible prey. Well paid for thatthe wrathful prince! For now prone he sawGrendel stretched there, spent with war,spoiled of life, so scathed had left himHeorot’s battle. The body sprang farwhen after death it endured the blow,sword-stroke savage, that severed its head.Soon,4 then, saw the sage companionswho waited with Hrothgar, watching the flood,that the tossing waters turbid grew,blood-stained the mere. Old men together,hoary-haired, of the hero spake;the warrior would not, they weened, again,proud of conquest, come to seektheir mighty master. To many it seemedthe wolf-of-the-waves had won his life.The ninth hour came. The noble Scyldingsleft the headland; homeward wentthe gold-friend of men.5 But the guests sat on,stared at the surges, sick in heart,and wished, yet weened not, their winsome lordagain to see.Now that sword began,from blood of the fight, in battle-droppings,6war-blade, to wane: ’twas a wondrous thingthat all of it melted as ice is wontwhen frosty fetters the Father loosens,unwinds the wave-bonds, wielding allseasons and times: the true God he!Nor took from that dwelling the duke of the Geatsprecious things, though a plenty he saw,save only the head and that hilt withalblazoned with jewels: the blade had melted,burned was the bright sword, her blood was so hot,so poisoned the hell-sprite who perished within there.Soon he was swimming who safe saw in combatdownfall of demons; up-dove through the flood.The clashing waters were cleanséd now,waste of waves, where the wandering fiendher life-days left and this lapsing world.Swam then to strand the sailors’-refuge,sturdy-in-spirit, of sea-booty glad,of burden brave he bore with him.Went then to greet him, and God they thanked,the thane-band choice of their chieftain blithe,that safe and sound they could see him again.Soon from the hardy one helmet and armordeftly they doffed: now drowsed the mere,water ’neath welkin, with war-blood stained.Forth they fared by the footpaths thence,merry at heart the highways measured,well-known roads. Courageous mencarried the head from the cliff by the sea,an arduous task for all the band,the firm in fight, since four were neededon the shaft-of-slaughter7 strenuouslyto bear to the gold-hall Grendel’s head.So presently to the palace therefoemen fearless, fourteen Geats,marching came. Their master-of-clanmighty amid them the meadow-ways trod.Strode then within the sovran thanefearless in fight, of fame renowned,hardy hero, Hrothgar to greet.And next by the hair into hall was borneGrendel’s head, where the henchmen were drinking,an awe to clan and queen alike,a monster of marvel: the men looked on.
XXIV
BEOWULF spake, bairn of Ecgtheow:—“Lo, now, this sea-booty, son of Healfdene,Lord of Scyldings, we’ve lustily brought thee,sign of glory; thou seest it here.Not lightly did I with my life escape!In war under water this work I essayedwith endless effort; and even somy strength had been lost had the Lord not shielded me.Not a whit could I with Hrunting doin work of war, though the weapon is good;yet a sword the Sovran of Men vouchsafed meto spy on the wall there, in splendor hanging,old, gigantic,—how oft He guidesthe friendless wight!—and I fought with that brand,felling in fight, since fate was with me,the house’s wardens. That war-sword thenall burned, bright blade, when the blood gushed o’er it,battle-sweat hot; but the hilt I brought backfrom my foes. So avenged I their fiendish deeds,death-fall of Danes, as was due and right.And this is my hest, that in Heorot nowsafe thou canst sleep with thy soldier band,and every thane of all thy folkboth old and young; no evil fear,Scyldings’ lord, from that side again,aught ill for thy earls, as erst thou must!”
Page 50 ends mid-sentence; the reading runs on to the end of Beowulf’s speech on page 51.
Volume 49, pages 45–50 · See the scanned page on archive.org
This is the reading for June 26 in Fifteen Minutes a Day: The Reading Guide (1930 edition), page 58. There the assignment reads “Vol. 49, pp. 45–50.” Read it in the guide.