Read Grendel and highlight or quote a phrase and then make an…

Question Answered step-by-step Read Grendel and highlight or quote a phrase and then make an… Read Grendel and highlight or quote a phrase and then make an annotation on each. 4 annotations total.GRENDELHrothgar , king of the Danes, has built a wonderful mead hall called Herot , where his subjects congregate and make merry. As this selection opens, a fierce and powerful monster named Grendel prepares to invade the mead hall.        A powerful monster, living downIn the darkness, growled in pain, impatientAs day after day the music rangLoud in that hall, the harp’s rejoicingCall and the poet’s clear songs, sungOf the ancient beginnings of us all, recallingThe Almighty making the earth, shapingThese beautiful plains marked off by oceans,Then proudly setting the sun and moonTo glow across the land and light it;The corners of the earth were made lovely with treesAnd leaves, made quick with life, with eachOf the nations who now move on its face. And thenAs now warriors sang of their pleasure:So Hrothgar’s men lived happy in his hallTill the monster stirred, that demon, that fiend,Grendel, who haunted the moors, the wildMarshes, and made his home in a hellNot hell but earth. He was spawned in that slime,Conceived by a pair of those monsters bornOf Cain, murderous creatures banishedBy God, punished forever for the crimeOf Abel’s death. The Almighty droveThose demons out, and their exile was bitter,Shut away from men; they splitInto a thousand forms of evil—spiritsAnd fiends, goblins, monsters, giants,A brood forever opposing the Lord’sWill, and again and again defeated.        Then, when darkness had dropped, GrendelWent up to Herot, wondering what the warriorsWould do in that hall when their drinking was done.He found them sprawled in sleep, suspectingNothing, their dreams undisturbed. The monster’sThoughts were as quick as his greed or his claws:He slipped through the door and there in the silenceSnatched up thirty men, smashed themUnknowing in their beds and ran out with their bodies,The blood dripping behind him, backTo his lair, delighted with his night’s slaughter.       At daybreak, with the sun’s first light, they sawHow well he had worked, and in that gray morningBroke their long feast with tears and lamentsFor the dead. Hrothgar, their lord, sat joylessIn Herot, a mighty prince mourningThe fate of his lost friends and companions,Knowing by its tracks that some demon had tornHis followers apart. He wept, fearingThe beginning might not be the end. And that night Grendel came again, so setOn murder that no crime could ever be enough,No savage assault quench his lustFor evil. Then each warrior triedTo escape him, searched for rest in differentBeds, as far from Herot as they could find,Seeing how Grendel hunted when they slept.Distance was safety; the only survivorsWere those who fled him. Hate had triumphed.       So Grendel ruled, fought with the righteous,One against many, and won; so HerotStood empty, and stayed deserted for years,Twelve winters of grief for Hrothgar, kingOf the Danes, sorrow heaped at his doorBy hell-forged hands. His misery leaped The seas, was told and sung in allMen’s ears: how Grendel’s hatred began,How the monster relished his savage warOn the Danes, keeping the bloody feudAlive, seeking no peace, offeringNo truce, accepting no settlement, no priceIn gold or land, and paying the livingFor one crime only with another. No oneWaited for reparation from his plundering claws:That shadow of death hunted in the darkness,Stalked Hrothgar’s warriors, oldAnd young, lying in waiting, hiddenIn mist, invisibly following them from the edgeOf the marsh, always there, unseen.       So mankind’s enemy continued his crimes,Killing as often as he could, comingAlone, bloodthirsty and horrible. Though he livedIn Herot, when the night hid him, he neverDared to touch king Hrothgar’s gloriousThrone, protected by God—God,Whose love Grendel could not know. But Hrothgar’sHeart was bent. The best and most nobleOf his council debated remedies, satIn secret sessions, talking of terrorAnd wondering what the bravest of warriors could do.And sometimes they sacrificed to the old stone gods,Made heathen vows, hoping for Hell’sSupport, the Devil’s guidance in drivingTheir affliction off. That was their way,And the heathen’s only hope, HellAlways in their hearts, knowing neither GodNor His passing as He walks through our world, the LordOf Heaven and earth; their ears could not hearHis praise nor know His glory. Let themBeware, those who are thrust into danger,Clutched at by trouble, yet can carry no solaceIn their hearts, cannot hope to be better! HailTo those who will rise to God, drop offTheir dead bodies and seek our Father’s peace!  Arts & Humanities English English Literature ENGLISH HONORS Share QuestionEmailCopy link Comments (0)