… Wa bið þæm ðe sceal
þurh sliðne nið sawle bescufan
in fyres fæþm, frofre ne wenan,
wihte gewendan...
… Woe for that man
who in harm and hatred hales his soul
to fiery embraces; — nor favour nor change
awaits he ever....
- Beowulf (lines 184-187)
Kurowulf
The Danes lay dead, each doomed to slaughter,
The bodies of brave men bled upon tables,
The horror of Heorot was hellish and twisted,
Foe had feasted on the faces of Thanes.
Grey-haired and gaunt, the goodly lord Hrothgar
Stepped forward and stared, his stunned face observing
The latest of leavings from relentless night-terror.
How could he hinder this hellish of beasts
And free all his folk from the foul devil-spawn?
The spear of despair spoke of a way,
And heavy of heart, Hrothgar resolved
To offer his all, on Earth and in Heaven.
He would swap his sweet soul to save his own men:
From the grasp of Grendel, who gorged every night,
From that terror, that tyrant, that treader of nightmares,
From that doom of the Danes, that devourer of mortals,
From that moorland murderer of many warriors.
The King's newest course, arcane and obscene
Was to summon a servant of Satan himself,
Befriend a fell fiend and fight the dread Grendel,
Then pay the steep price and depart at ease.
Eternity's torment would test aged Hrothgar:
His agony endless in underworld flame,
His belly and back would grow black 'neath the torture,
The daemon he'd dragged up drinking his pain.
But better a bold man braves this ill fortune,
One soul may suffer to save those of others,
So Hrothgar the Hapless may help his poor people,
Ridding his realm of a rime-hearted foe.
Grendel the ghoul would be gone from these lands,
In Heorot Hall, hearts would be lifted,
And songs might be sung of sweeter occasions,
Free from the fear of foul monster's claws.