each man on the bench who had sailed with Beowulf
and risked the voyage received a bounty,
some treasured possession. And compensation,
a price in gold, was settled for the Geat
Grendle had cruelly killed earlier –
as he would have killed more, had not mindful God
and on man’s daring prevent that doom.-Beowulf, l.1050-1056, Seamus Heaney translation
Asleep by the bench at the mead-hall I lay, minding my own business. Why such wanton killing and why only me? What did I do wrong such that my name is not even remembered? As if any amount of gold could cover my loss of life. My captain knew my name and grieved at my death, though none saw it. He went on to immortal fame while I languished in a pool of blood, my flesh in the belly of a monster. I was originally excited to beam down to this exotic local. Our ship was strong on the waves, I was thrilled to tag along. Now I wish I had stayed home.
