Check this out — somebody has done a short “Solomon Kane” film based on the poem “The Return of Sir Richard Grenville.”
The film itself is OK (it’s kinda sad when I realize that I know people who could have done a much better job, in everything from the fight choreography to the costuming and film work), but it’s fun, and the poem is one of my favorites:
The Return of Sir Richard Grenville
By Robert E. Howard
One slept beneath the branches dim,
Cloaked in the crawling mist,
And Richard Grenville came to him
And plucked him by the wrist.
No nightwind shook the forest deep
Where the shadows of Doom were spread,
And Solomon Kane awoke from sleep
And looked upon the dead.
He spake in wonder, not in fear:
“How walks a man who died?
“Friend of old times, what do ye here,
“Long fallen at my side?”
“Rise up, rise up,” Sir Richard said,
“The hounds of Doom are free;
“The slayers come to take your head
“To hang on the ju-ju tree.
“Swift feet press the jungle mud
“Where the shadows are grim and stark,
“And naked men who pant for blood
“Are racing through the dark.”
And Solomon rose and bared his sword,
And swift as tongue could tell,
The dark spewed forth a painted horde
Like shadows out of Hell.
His pistols thundered in the night,
And in that burst of flame,
He saw red eyes with hate alight,
And on the figures came.
His sword was like a cobra’s strike,
And death hummed in its tune;
His arm was steel and knotted oak
Beneath the rising moon.
But by him sang another sword,
And a great form roared and thrust,
And dropped like leaves the screaming horde
To writhe in bloody dust.
Silent as death their charge had been,
Silent as night they fled;
And in the trampled glade was seen
Only the torn dead.
And Solomon turned with outstreched hand,
Then halted suddenly,
For no man stood with naked brand
Beneath the moon-lit tree.